THE LOSS IN CIVILIZATION

Have we yet hit upon the right idea of civilization?  The process which has been going on ever since the world began seems to have a defect in it; strength, vital power, somehow escapes.  When you’ve got a man thoroughly civilized you cannot do anything more with him.  And it is worth reflection what we should do, what could we spend our energies on, and what would evoke them, we who are both civilized and enlightened, if all nations were civilized and the earth were entirely subdued.  That is to say, are not barbarism and vast regions of uncultivated land a necessity of healthful life on this globe?  We do not like to admit that this process has its cycles, that nations and men, like trees and fruit, grow, ripen, and then decay.  The world has always had a conceit that the globe could be made entirely habitable, and all over the home of a society constantly growing better.  In order to accomplish this we have striven to eliminate barbarism in man and in nature: 

Is there anything more unsatisfactory than a perfect house, perfect grounds, perfect gardens, art and nature brought into the most absolute harmony of taste and culture?  What more can a man do with it?  What satisfaction has a man in it if he really gets to the end of his power to improve it?  There have been such nearly ideal places, and how strong nature, always working against man and in the interest of untamed wildness, likes to riot in them and reduce them to picturesque destruction!  And what sweet sadness, pathos, romantic suggestion, the human mind finds in such a ruin!  And a society that has attained its end in all possible culture, entire refinement in manners, in tastes, in the art of elegant intellectual and luxurious living—­is there nothing pathetic in that?  Where is the primeval, heroic force that made the joy of living in the rough old uncivilized days?  Even throw in goodness, a certain amount of altruism, gentleness, warm interest in unfortunate humanity—­is the situation much improved?  London is probably the most civilized centre the world has ever seen; there are gathered more of the elements of that which we reckon the best.  Where in history, unless some one puts in a claim for the Frenchman, shall we find a Man so nearly approaching the standard we have set up of civilization as the Englishman, refined by inheritance and tradition, educated almost beyond the disturbance of enthusiasm, and cultivated beyond the chance of surprise?  We are speaking of the highest type in manner, information, training, in the acquisition of what the world has to give.  Could these men have conquered the world?  Is it possible that our highest civilization has lost something of the rough and admirable element that we admire in the heroes of Homer and of Elizabeth?  What is this London, the most civilized city ever known?  Why, a considerable part of its population is more barbarous, more hopelessly barbarous, than any wild race we know, because they are the barbarians of civilization, the refuse and slag of it, if we dare say that of any humanity.  More hopeless, because the virility of savagery has measurably gone out of it.  We can do something with a degraded race of savages, if it has any stamina in it.  What can be done with those who are described as “East-Londoners”?