Infidelity leading to supposititious children in the case of the wife,

or infidelity obstinately and offensively persisted in or endangering

health in the case of the husband, really injure the home sufficiently

to justify a divorce on the assumptions of our present argument. If we

are going to make the welfare of the children our criterion in these

matters, then our divorce law does in this direction already go too far.

A husband or wife may do far more injury to the home by constantly

neglecting it for the companionship of some outside person with whom no

"matrimonial offence" is ever committed. Of course, if our divorce law

exists mainly for the gratification of the fiercer sexual resentments,

well and good, but if that is so, let us abandon our pretence that

marriage is an institution for the establishment and protection of

homes. And while on the one hand existing divorce laws appear to be

obsessed by sexual offences, other things of far more evil effect upon

the home go without a remedy. There are, for example, desertion,

domestic neglect, cruelty to the children drunkenness or harmful

drug-taking, indecency of living and uncontrollable extravagance. I

cannot conceive how any logical mind, having once admitted the principle

of divorce, can hesitate at making these entirely home-wrecking things

the basis of effective pleas. But in another direction, some strain of

sentimentality in my nature makes me hesitate to go with the great

majority of divorce law reformers. I cannot bring myself to agree that

either a long term of imprisonment or the misfortune of insanity should

in itself justify a divorce. I admit the social convenience, but I wince

at the thought of those tragic returns of the dispossessed. So far as

insanity goes, I perceive that the cruelty of the law would but endorse

the cruelty of nature. But I do not like men to endorse the cruelty of

nature.

And, of course, there is no decent-minded person nowadays but wants to

put an end to that ugly blot upon our civilisation, the publication of

whatever is most spicy and painful in divorce court proceedings. It is

an outrage which falls even more heavily on the innocent than on the

guilty, and which has deterred hundreds of shy and delicate-minded

people from seeking legal remedies for nearly intolerable wrongs. The

sort of person who goes willingly to the divorce court to-day is the

sort of person who would love a screaming quarrel in a crowded street.

The emotional breach of the marriage bond is as private an affair as its

consummation, and it would be nearly as righteous to subject young

couples about to marry to a blustering cross-examination by some

underbred bully of a barrister upon their motives, and then to publish

whatever chance phrases in their answers appeared to be amusing in the

press, as it is to publish contemporary divorce proceedings. The thing

Is a nastiness, a stream of social contagion and an extreme cruelty, and

there can be no doubt that whatever other result this British Royal

Commission may have, there at least will be many sweeping alterations.

THE SCHOOLMASTER AND THE EMPIRE

Sec. 1

"If Youth but Knew" is the title of a book published some years ago, but

still with a quite living interest, by "Kappa"; it is the bitter

complaint of a distressed senior against our educational system. He is

hugely disappointed in the public-school boy, and more particularly in

one typical specimen. He is--if one might hazard a guess--an uncle

bereft of great expectations. He finds an echo in thousands of other

distressed uncles and parents. They use the most divergent and

inadequate forms of expression for this vague sense that the result has

not come out good enough; they put it contradictorily and often wrongly,

but the sense is widespread and real and justifiable and we owe a great

debt to "Kappa" for an accurate diagnosis of what in the aggregate

amounts to a grave national and social evil.

The trouble with "Kappa's" particular public-school boy is his unlit

imagination, the apathetic commonness of his attitude to life at large.

He is almost stupidly not interested in the mysteries of material fact,

nor in the riddles and great dramatic movements of history, indifferent

to any form of beauty, and pedantically devoted to the pettiness of

games and clothing and social conduct. It is, in fact, chiefly by his

style in these latter things, his extensive unilluminated knowledge of

Greek and Latin, and his greater costliness, that he differs from a

young carpenter or clerk. A young carpenter or clerk of the same

temperament would have no narrower prejudices nor outlook, no less

capacity for the discussion of broad questions and for imaginative

thinking. And it has come to the mind of "Kappa" as a discovery, as an

exceedingly remarkable and moving thing, a thing to cry aloud about,

that this should be so, that this is all that the best possible modern

education has achieved. He makes it more than a personal issue. He has

come to the conclusion that this is not an exceptional case at all, but

a fair sample of what our upper-class education does for the imagination

of those who must presently take the lead among us. He declares plainly

that we are raising a generation of rulers and of those with whom the

duty of initiative should chiefly reside, who have minds atrophied by

dull studies and deadening suggestions, and he thinks that this is a

matter of the gravest concern for the future of this land and Empire. It