If one develops one side of one’s nature, as the intellectual or artistic, one probably suffers on the emotional or moral side.  The pain which the perceptive man feels in surveying this process is apt to be very acute.  He may see that he lacks certain qualities altogether and yet be unable to develop them.  He may find in himself some patent and even gross fault, and be unable to cure it.  The only hope for any of us is that we do not know the expansive force of our qualities, nor the size of the box; and therefore it is reasonable to go on trying and desiring; and as long as one can do that, it is clear that there is still room for growth.  The worst shadow of all is to find, as one goes on, a certain indifference creeping over one.  One accepts a fault as a part of one’s nature; one ceases to care about what appears unattainable.

It may be said that this is a fatalistic theory, and leads to a mild inactivity; but the question rather is whether it is true, whether it is attested by experience.  One improves, not by overlooking facts, in however generous and enthusiastic a spirit, but by facing facts, and making the best use one can of them.  One must resolutely try to submit oneself to favourable conditions, fertilising influences.  And much more must one do that in the case of those for whom one is responsible.  In the case of my own two children, for instance, my one desire is to surround them with the best influences I can.  Even there one makes mistakes, no doubt, because one cannot test the expansive power of their qualities; but one can observe the conditions under which they seem to develop best, and apply them.  To lavish love and tenderness on some children serves to concentrate their thoughts upon themselves, and makes them expect to find all difficulties smoothed away; on other more generous natures, it produces a glow of responsive gratitude and affection, a desire to fulfil the hopes formed of them by those who love them.  The most difficult cases of all are the cases of temperaments without loyal affection, but with much natural charm.  Those are the people who get what is called ‘spoilt,’ because it is so much easier to believe in the existence of qualities which are superficially displayed than in qualities which lie too deep for facile expression.  One comes across cases of children of intense emotional natures, and very little power of expressing their feelings, or of showing their affection.  Of course, too, example is far more potent than precept, and it is very difficult for parents to simulate a high-mindedness and an affectionateness that they do not themselves possess, even if they are sincerely anxious that their children should grow up high-minded and affectionate.  One of the darkest shadows of my present condition is the fear that any revelation of my own weakness and emptiness may discourage and distort my children’s characters; and the watchfulness which this requires increases the strain under which I suffer, because it is a hard fact that an example set for a noble and an unselfish motive is not nearly so potent as an example set naturally, sweetly, and generously, with no particular consciousness of motive behind it at all.