ifficult to
move to other towns or countries, to change one's occupation; it will
even be difficult to adopt new poses, for the other will not be taken
in. One will be for evermore what one is. True there is elopement,
divorce; in matters of art, there is the artist courage that enables a
man to see another suffer for the sake of his desire. But all this is
very difficult, and few of us have courage enough to make others suffer;
if one had the courage to do no harm at all, it might not be so bad, but
not many can follow Mr. Bernard Shaw: "If you injure your neighbor, let
it not be by halves." They almost invariably do injure by halves: he
that will not kill, scratches. There is no refuge from a world of rates,
and taxes, and bills, and houses overcrowded by children, and old
clothes, dull leaders in the papers, stupid plays, the morning train,
the unvarying Sunday dinner. It is so bad sometimes that it causes
willful revolt. I sincerely believe that a great many men would be model
husbands if only they were not married. Only when everything is
respectable and nice there is a terrible temptation to introduce a
change; the wild animal in man, that is in a few a lion, in most a
weasel, reacts against the definite, the irremediable, the assured. He
must do something. He must break through. He must prove to himself that
he has not really sentenced himself to penal servitude for life. That is
why so few of the respectable are respectable, and why reformed rakes do
make good husbands. (Generally, that is, for a few rakes feel that they
must keep up their reputation; on the other hand, a really respectable
man knows no shame.)

Curiously enough, children seem to act both against and in favor of
these disruptive factors. It is difficult to deprive children of
influence; they must part, or they must unite. They are somebody in the
house; they make a noise, and it depends upon temperament whether the
noise exasperates or delights. Parents are divided into those who love
them, and those who bear their children; generally, men dislike little
babies, unless they are rather strong men whom weakness attracts, or
unless they feel pride of race, while women, excepting those who live
only for light pleasures, give them a quite unreasoning affection.
Children are a frequent source of trouble, for the tired man's nerves
are horribly frayed by screams and exuberances. He shouts: "Stop that
child howling!" and if his wife assumes a saintly ai