a treatise on parents and children-第18部分

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the　class　that　occupied　that　schoolroom。　　To　have　sent　us　home　would

have　been　to　break　the　fundamental　bargain　with　our　parents　by　which

the　school　was　bound　to　keep　us　out　of　their　way　for　half　the　day　at

all　hazards。　　Therefore　an　appeal　had　to　be　made　to　our　better

feelings：　　that　is；　to　our　common　humanity；　not　to　make　a　noise。　　But

the　head　master　had　never　admitted　any　common　humanity　with　us。　　We

had　been　carefully　broken　in　to　regard　him　as　a　being　quite　aloof　from

and　above　us：　　one　not　subject　to　error　or　suffering　or　death　or

illness　or　mortality。　　Consequently　sympathy　was　impossible；　and　if

the　unfortunate　lady　did　not　perish；　it　was　because；　as　I　now　comfort

myself　with　guessing；　she　was　too　much　pre…occupied　with　her　own

pains；　and　possibly　making　too　much　noise　herself；　to　be　conscious　of

the　pandemonium　downstairs。



A　great　deal　of　the　fiendishness　of　schoolboys　and　the　cruelty　of

children　to　their　elders　is　produced　just　in　this　way。　　Elders　cannot

be　superhuman　beings　and　suffering　fellow…creatures　at　the　same　time。

If　you　pose　as　a　little　god；　you　must　pose　for　better　for　worse。







How　Little　We　Know　About　Our　Parents



The　relation　between　parent　and　child　has　cruel　moments　for　the　parent

even　when　money　is　no　object；　and　the　material　worries　are　delegated

to　servants　and　school　teachers。　　The　child　and　the　parent　are

strangers　to　one　another　necessarily；　because　their　ages　must　differ

widely。　　Read　Goethe's　autobiography；　and　note　that　though　he　was

happy　in　his　parents　and　had　exceptional　powers　of　observation；

divination；　and　story…telling；　he　knew　less　about　his　father　and

mother　than　about　most　of　the　other　people　he　mentions。　　I　myself　was

never　on　bad　terms　with　my　mother：　　we　lived　together　until　I　was

forty…two　years　old；　absolutely　without　the　smallest　friction　of　any

kind；　yet　when　her　death　set　me　thinking　curiously　about　our

relations；　I　realized　that　I　knew　very　little　about　her。　　Introduce　me

to　a　strange　woman　who　was　a　child　when　I　was　a　child；　a　girl　when　I

was　a　boy；　an　adolescent　when　I　was　an　adolescent；　and　if　we　take

naturally　to　one　another　I　will　know　more　of　her　and　she　of　me　at　the

end　of　forty　days　（I　had　almost　said　of　forty　minutes）　than　I　knew　of

my　mother　at　the　end　of　forty　years。　　A　contemporary　stranger　is　a

novelty　and　an　enigma；　also　a　possibility；　but　a　mother　is　like　a

broomstick　or　like　the　sun　in　the　heavens；　it　does　not　matter　which　as

far　as　one's　knowledge　of　her　is　concerned：　　the　broomstick　is　there

and　the　sun　is　there；　and　whether　the　child　is　beaten　by　it　or　warmed

and　enlightened　by　it；　it　accepts　it　as　a　fact　in　nature；　and　does　not

conceive　it　as　having　had　youth；　passions；　and　weaknesses；　or　as　still

growing；　yearning；　suffering；　and　learning。　　If　I　meet　a　widow　I　may

ask　her　all　about　her　marriage；　but　what　son　ever　dreams　of　asking　his

mother　about　her　marriage；　or　could　endure　to　hear　of　it　without

violently　breaking　off　the　old　sacred　relationship　between　them；　and

ceasing　to　be　her　child　or　anything　more　to　her　than　the　first　man　in

the　street　might　be？



Yet　though　in　this　sense　the　child　cannot　realize　its　parent's

humanity；　the　parent　can　realize　the　child's；　for　the　parents　with

their　experience　of　life　have　none　of　the　illusions　about　the　child

that　the　child　has　about　the　parents；　and　the　consequence　is　that　the

child　can　hurt　its　parents'　feelings　much　more　than　its　parents　can

hurt　the　child's；　because　the　child；　even　when　there　has　been　none　of

the　deliberate　hypocrisy　by　which　children　are　taken　advantage　of　by

their　elders；　cannot　conceive　the　parent　as　a　fellow…creature；　whilst

the　parents　know　very　well　that　the　children　are　only　themselves　over

again。　　The　child　cannot　conceive　that　its　blame　or　contempt　or　want

of　interest　could　possibly　hurt　its　parent；　and　therefore　expresses

them　all　with　an　indifference　which　has　given　rise　to　the　term　_enfant

terrible_　（a　tragic　term　in　spite　of　the　jests　connected　with　it）；

whilst　the　parent　can　suffer　from　such　slights　and　reproaches　more

from　a　child　than　from　anyone　else；　even　when　the　child　is　not

beloved；　because　the　child　is　so　unmistakably　sincere　in　them。







Our　Abandoned　Mothers



Take　a　very　common　instance　of　this　agonizing　incompatibility。　　A

widow　brings　up　her　son　to　manhood。　　He　meets　a　strange　woman；　and

goes　off　with　and　marries　her；　leaving　his　mother　desolate。　　It　does

not　occur　to　him　that　this　is　at　all　hard　on　her：　　he　does　it　as　a

matter　of　course；　and　actually　expects　his　mother　to　receive；　on　terms

of　special　affection；　the　woman　for　whom　she　has　been　abandoned。　　If

he　shewed　any　sense　of　what　he　was　doing；　any　remorse；　if　he　mingled

his　tears　with　hers　and　asked　her　not　to　think　too　hardly　of　him

because　he　had　obeyed　the　inevitable　destiny　of　a　man　to　leave　his

father　and　mother　and　cleave　to　his　wife；　she　could　give　him　her

blessing　and　accept　her　bereavement　with　dignity　and　without　reproach。

But　the　man　never　dreams　of　such　considerations。　　To　him　his　mother's

feeling　in　the　matter；　when　she　betrays　it；　is　unreasonable；

ridiculous；　and　even　odious；　as　shewing　a　prejudice　against　his

adorable　bride。



I　have　taken　the　widow　as　an　extreme　and　obvious　case；　but　there　are

many　husbands　and　wives　who　are　tired　of　their　consorts；　or

disappointed　in　them；　or　estranged　from　them　by　infidelities；　and

these　parents；　in　losing　a　son　or　a　daughter　through　marriage；　may　be

losing　everything　they　care　for。　　No　parent's　love　is　as　innocent　as

the　love　of　a　child：　　the　exclusion　of　all　conscious　sexual　feeling

from　it　does　not　exclude　the　bitterness；　jealousy；　and　despair　at　loss

which　characterize　sexual　passion：　　in　fact；　what　is　called　a　pure

love　may　easily　be　more　selfish　and　jealous　than　a　carnal　one。

Anyhow；　it　is　plain　matter　of　fact　that　naively　selfish　people

sometimes　try　with　fierce　jealousy　to　prevent　their　children　marrying。







Family　Affection



Until　the　family　as　we　know　it　ceases　to　exist；　nobody　will　dare　to

analyze　parental　affection　as　distinguished　from　that　general　human

sympathy　which　has　secured　to　many　an　orphan　fonder　care　in　a

stranger's　house　than　it　would　have　received　from　its　actual　parents。

Not　even　Tolstoy；　in　The　Kreutzer　Sonata；　has　said　all　that　we　suspect

about　it。　　When　it　persists　beyond　the　period　at　which　it　ceases　to　be

necessary　to　the　child's　welfare；　it　is　apt　to　be　morbid；　and　we　are

probably　wrong　to　inculcate　its　deliberate　cultivation。　　The　natural

course　is　for　the　parents　and　children　to　cast　off　the　specific

parental　and　filial　relation　when　they　are　no　longer　necessary　to　one

another。　　The　child　does　this　readily　enough　to　form　fresh　ties；

closer　and　more　fascinating。　　Parents　are　not　always　excluded　from

such　compensations：　　it　happens　sometimes　that　when　the　children　go

out　at　the　door　the　lover　comes　in　at　the　window。　　Indeed　it　happens

now　oftener　than　it　used　to；　because　people　remain　much　longer　in　the

sexual　arena。　　The　cultivated　Jewess　no　longer　cuts　off　her　hair　at

her　marriage。　　The　British　matron　has　discarded　her　cap　and　her

conscientious　ugliness；　and　a　bishop's　wife　at　fifty　has　more　of　the

air　of　a　_femme　galante_　than　an　actress　had　at　thirty…five　in　her

grandmother's　time。　　But　as　people　marry　later；　the　facts　of　age　and

time　still　inexorably　condemn　most　parents　to　comparative　solitude

when　their　children　marry。　　This　may　be　a　privation　and　may　be　a

relief：　　probably　in　healthy　circumstances　it　is　no　worse　than　a

salutary　change　of　habit；　but　even　at　that　it　is；　for　the　moment　at

least；　a　wrench。　　For　though　parents　and　children　sometimes　dislike

one　another；　there　is　an　experience　of　succor　and　a　habit　of

dependence　and　expectation　formed　in　infancy　which　naturally　attaches

a　child　to　its　parent　or　to　its　nurse　（a　foster　parent）　in　a　quite

peculiar　way。　　A　benefit　to　the　child　may　be　a　burden　to　the　parent；

but　people　become　attached　to　their　burdens　sometimes　more　than　the

burdens　are　attached　to　them；　and　to　〃suffer　little　children〃　has

become　an　affectionate　impulse　deep　in　our　nature。



Now　there　is　no　such　impulse　to　suffer　our　sisters　and　brothers；　our

aunts　and　uncles；　much　less　our　cousins。　　If　we　could　choose　our

relatives；　we　might；　by　selecting　congenial　ones；　mitigate　the

repulsive　effect　of　the　obligation　to　like　them　and　to　admit　them　to

our　intimacy。　　But　to　have　a　person　imposed　on　us　as　a　brother　merely

because　he　happens　to　have　the　same　parents　is　unbearable　when；　as　may

easily　happen；　he　is　the　sort　of　person　we　should　carefully　avoid　if

he　were　anyone　else's　brother。　　All　Europe　（except　Scotland；　which　has

clans　instead　of　families）　draws　the　line　at　second　cousins。

Protestantism　draws　it　still　closer　by　making　the　first　cousin　a

marriageable　stranger；　and　the　only　reason　for　not　drawing　it　at

sisters　and　brothers　is　that　the　institution　of　the　family　compels　us

to　spend　our　childhood　with　them；　and　thus　imposes　on　us　a　curious

relation　in　which　familiarity　destroys　romantic　charm；　and　is　yet

expected　to　create　a　specially　warm　affection。　　Such　a　relation　is

dangerously　factitious　and　unnatural；　and　the　practical　moral　is　that

the　less　said　at　home　about　specific　family　affection　the　better。

Children；　like　grown…up　people；　get　on　well　enough　together　if　they

are　not　pushed　down　one　another's　throats；　and　grown…up　relatives　will

get　on　together　in　proportion　to　their　separation　and　their　care　not

to　presume　on　their　blood　relationship。　　We　should　let　children's

feelings　take　their　natural　course　without　prompting。　　I　have　seen　a

child　scolded　and　called　unfeeling　because　it　did　not　occur　to　it　to

make　a　theatrical　demonstration　of　affectionate　delight　when　its

mother　returned　after　an　absence：　　a　typical　example　of　the　way　in

which　spurious　family　sentiment　is　stoked　up。　　We　are；　after　all；

sociable　animals；　and　if　we　are