Growing Out of Savagery

An excerpt from Chapter 8 of Lloyd C. Douglas's The Robe (1942):

'Lucretius concedes that all life is difficult, but becoming less so as men grow out of savagery to civilization.' Demetrius tried to make this observation sound optimistic. Marcellus chuckled bitterly.

'"As men grow out of savagery," eh? What makes him think men are growing out of savagery?' He made an impatient gesture, throwing the idea away with a toss of his hand. 'Lucretius knew very little about what was going on in the world. Lived like a mole in a burrow. Lived on his own fat like a bear in winter. Went wrong in his head at forty, and died. "Growing out of savagery"? Nonsense! Nothing that ever went on in the jungle can compare with the bestiality of our life to-day!' Marcellus's voice had mounted from a monologic mutter to a high-tensioned harangue. '"Growing out of savagery"!' he shouted. 'You know better than that! You were out there!'

Demetrius nodded soberly.

'It was very sad,' he said, 'but I think you have reproached yourself too much, sir. You had no alternative.'

Marcellus had retreated into his accustomed lethargy, but he suddenly roused, clenching his fists.

'That's a lie, Demetrius, and you know it! There was an alternative! I could have set the Galilean free! I had enough of those tough fellows from Minoa with me to have dispersed that mob!'

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Is there a redeemed Marcellus in our mist, who will arouse in him a very lion to save Mrs. Schiavo from the civilized savagery?