It is a foible of our human nature that when we have an extremely unpleasant experience, it gives us a peculiar satisfaction if it is the biggest of its disagreeable kind that has happened since the world began. During a heat wave, for instance, we are very pleased if the papers announce that it is the highest temperature reached since the year 1881, and we feel a little resentment towards the year 1881 for having gone us one better. Or if our ears are frozen till all the skin peels off, it fills us with a certain happiness to learn that it was the hardest frost recorded since 1786. It is just the same with wars. The war in progress is either the most righteous or the bloodiest, or the most successful, or the longest, since such and such a time; any superlative whatever always affords us the proud satisfaction of having been through something extraordinary and record-breaking.
