and now let me go on to tell at once the thing that changed life for both of us altogether, that turned us out of the courses that seemed set for us, our spacious, successful and divergent ways, she to the tragedy of her death and i from all the prospects of the public career that lay before me to the work that now, toilsomely, inadequately and blunderingly enough, i do. it was to pierce and slash away the appearances of life for me, it was to open my way to infinite disillusionment, and unsuspected truths. within a few weeks of our second meeting mary and i were passionately in love with one another; we had indeed become lovers. the arrested attractions of our former love released again, drew us inevitably to that. we tried to seem outwardly only friends, with this hot glow between us. our tormented secret was half discovered and half betrayed itself. there followed a tragi-comedy of hesitations and disunited struggle. within four months the crisis of our two lives was past....
it is not within my purpose to tell you, my son, of the particular events, the particular comings and goings, the chance words, the chance meetings, the fatal momentary misunderstandings that occurred between us. i want to tell of something more general than that. this misadventure is in our strain. it is our inheritance. it is a possibility in the inheritance of all honest and emotional men and women. there are no doubt people altogether cynical and adventurous to whom these passions and desires are at once controllable and permissible indulgences without any radiation of consequences, a secret and detachable part of life, and there may be people of convictions so strong and simple that these disturbances are eliminated, but we strattons are of a quality neither so low nor so high, we stoop and rise, we are not convinced about our standards, and for many generations to come, with us and with such people as the christians, and indeed with most of our sort of people, we shall be equally desirous of free and intimate friendship and prone to blaze into passion and disaster at that proximity.
this is one of the essential riddles in the adaptation of such human beings as ourselves to that greater civilized state of which i dream. it is the gist of my story. it is one of the two essential riddles that confront our kind. the servitude of sex and the servitude of labor are the twin conditions upon which human society rests to-day, the two limitations upon its progress towards a greater social order, to that greater community, those uplands of light and happy freedom, towards which that being who was my father yesterday, who thinks in myself to-day, and who will be you to-morrow and your sons after you, by his very nature urges and must continue to urge the life of mankind. the story of myself and mary is a mere incident in that gigantic, scarce conscious effort to get clear of toils and confusions and encumbrances, and have our way with life. we are like little figures, dots ascendant upon a vast hillside; i take up our intimacy for an instant and hold it under a lens for you. i become more than myself then, and mary stands for innumerable women. it happened yesterday, and it is just a part of that same history that made edmond stratton of the hays elope with charlotte anstruther and get himself run through the body at haddington two hundred years ago, which drove the laidlaw-christians to virginia in '45, gave stratton street to the moneylenders when george iv. was regent, and broke the heart of margaret stratton in the days when charles the first was king. with our individual variations and under changed conditions the old desires and impulses stirred us, the old antagonisms confronted us, the old difficulties and sloughs and impassable places baffled us. there are times when i think of my history among all those widespread repeated histories, until it seems to me that the human lover is like a creature who struggles for ever through a thicket without an end....
there are no universal laws of affection and desire, but it is manifestly true that for the most of us free talk, intimate association, and any real fellowship between men and women turns with an extreme readiness to love. and that being so it follows that under existing conditions the unrestricted meeting and companionship of men and women in society is a monstrous sham, a merely dangerous pretence of encounters. the safe reality beneath those liberal appearances is that a woman must be content with the easy friendship of other women and of one man only, letting a superficial friendship towards all other men veil impassable abysses of separation, and a man must in the same way have one sole woman intimate. to all other women he must be a little blind, a little deaf, politely inattentive. he must respect the transparent, intangible, tacit purdah about them, respect it but never allude to it. to me that is an intolerable state of affairs, but it is reality. if you live in the spirit of any other understanding you will court social disaster. i suppose it is a particularly intolerable state of affairs to us strattons because it is in our nature to want things to seem what they are. that translucent yet impassible purdah outrages our veracity. and it is plain to me that our social order cannot stand and is not standing the tensions it creates. the convention that passions and emotions are absent when they are palpably present broke down between mary and myself, as it breaks down in a thousand other cases, as it breaks down everywhere. our social life is honeycombed and rotten with secret hidden relationships. the rigid, the obtuse and the unscrupulously cunning escape; the honest passion sooner or later flares out and destroys.... here is a difficulty that no bullying imposition of arbitrary rules on the one hand nor any reckless abandonment of law on the other, can solve. humanity has yet to find its method in sexual things; it has to discover the use and the limitation of jealousy. and before it can even begin to attempt to find, it has to cease its present timid secret groping in shame and darkness and turn on the light of knowledge. none of us knows much and most of us do not even know what is known.
