f litter, dirt; a little reality,
intolerable crudity.

A woman with this temperament is a poor candidate for matrimony unless
there goes with it a capacity for adjustment, unusual in this type. Most
men have their habitual crudities, their daily lapses, and every home is
the theater of a constant struggle with the disagreeable. Intensely
pleased by the utmost refinements, these are too uncommon to make up for
the shortcomings. The hyperaesthetic woman is constantly the prey of the
most deenergizing of emotions,--disgust. "It makes me sick" is not an
exaggerated expression of her feeling. And her afflicted household size
up the situation with the brief analysis, "Everything makes her
nervous." Every one in her household falls under the tyranny of her
disposition, mingling their concern with exasperation, their pity with a
silent almost subconscious contempt.

Next comes the over-conscientious type. Whatever conscience is, whether
implanted by God, or the social code sanctified by training, teaching,
and a social nature, there can be no question that, as the Court of
Appeals, it does harm as well as good.

There are people whose lack of conscience is back of all manner of
crimes, from murder down to careless, slack work; whose cruelty, lust,
and selfishness operate unhampered by restraint. On the other hand there
are others whose hypertrophied conscience works in one of two
directions. If they are zealots, convinced of the righteousness of their
own decisions and conclusions, their conscience spurs them on to
reforming the world. Since they are more often wrong than right, they
become, as it were, a sort of misdirected Providence, raising havoc with
the happiness and comfort of others. Whether the conscienceless or
those overburdened with this type of conscience have done more harm in
the world is perhaps an open question, which I leave to the historians
for settlement.

The other type of the overconscientious does definite harm to
themselves. This type I have called the "Seekers of Perfection" and it
is their affliction that they are miserable with anything less. They are
particularly hard on themselves, differing in this wise from the by
hyperaesthetic. Constantly they examine and reexamine what they have
done. "Is it the best I can do?" "Should I rest now; have I the right to
rest?"

Into every moment of enjoyment they obtrude conscience, or rather
conscience obtrudes itself. They become wedded to a purpose, and