has　the　incredible　lack　of　humour　and　lack　of　imagination　to　ask　us
  to　believe　that　his　aristocracy　is　an　aristocracy　of　strong　muscles　or
  an　aristocracy　of　strong　wills；　it　is　necessary　to　point　out　the　truth。
  It　is　an　aristocracy　of　weak　nerves。
  We　make　our　friends；　we　make　our　enemies；　but　God　makes　our
  next…door　neighbour。　　Hence　he　comes　to　us　clad　in　all　the　careless
  terrors　of　nature；　he　is　as　strange　as　the　stars；　as　reckless　and
  indifferent　as　the　rain。　　He　is　Man；　the　most　terrible　of　the　beasts。
  That　is　why　the　old　religions　and　the　old　scriptural　language　showed
  so　sharp　a　wisdom　when　they　spoke；　not　of　one's　duty　towards　humanity；
  but　one's　duty　towards　one's　neighbour。　　The　duty　towards　humanity　may
  often　take　the　form　of　some　choice　which　is　personal　or　even　pleasurable。
  That　duty　may　be　a　hobby；　it　may　even　be　a　dissipation。
  We　may　work　in　the　East　End　because　we　are　peculiarly　fitted　to　work
  in　the　East　End；　or　because　we　think　we　are；　we　may　fight　for　the　cause
  of　international　peace　because　we　are　very　fond　of　fighting。
  The　most　monstrous　martyrdom；　the　most　repulsive　experience；　may　be
  the　result　of　choice　or　a　kind　of　taste。　　We　may　be　so　made　as　to　be
  particularly　fond　of　lunatics　or　specially　interested　in　leprosy。
  We　may　love　negroes　because　they　are　black　or　German　Socialists　because
  they　are　pedantic。　　But　we　have　to　love　our　neighbour　because　he　is　there
  a　much　more　alarming　reason　for　a　much　more　serious　operation。
  He　is　the　sample　of　humanity　which　is　actually　given　us。
  Precisely　because　he　may　be　anybody　he　is　everybody。
  He　is　a　symbol　because　he　is　an　accident。
  Doubtless　men　flee　from　small　environments　into　lands　that　are
  very　deadly。　　But　this　is　natural　enough；　for　they　are　not　fleeing
  from　death。　　They　are　fleeing　from　life。　　And　this　principle
  applies　to　ring　within　ring　of　the　social　system　of　humanity。
  It　is　perfectly　reasonable　that　men　should　seek　for　some　particular
  variety　of　the　human　type；　so　long　as　they　are　seeking　for　that
  variety　of　the　human　type；　and　not　for　mere　human　variety。
  It　is　quite　proper　that　a　British　diplomatist　should　seek　the　society
  of　Japanese　generals；　if　what　he　wants　is　Japanese　generals。
  But　if　what　he　wants　is　people　different　from　himself；　he　had　much
  better　stop　at　home　and　discuss　religion　with　the　housemaid。
  It　is　quite　reasonable　that　the　village　genius　should　come　up　to　conquer
  London　if　what　he　wants　is　to　conquer　London。　　But　if　he　wants　to　conquer
  something　fundamentally　and　symbolically　hostile　and　also　very　strong；
  he　had　much　better　remain　where　he　is　and　have　a　row　with　the　rector。
  The　man　in　the　suburban　street　is　quite　right　if　he　goes　to
  Ramsgate　for　the　sake　of　Ramsgatea　difficult　thing　to　imagine。
  But　if；　as　he　expresses　it；　he　goes　to　Ramsgate　〃for　a　change；〃
  then　he　would　have　a　much　more　romantic　and　even　melodramatic
  change　if　he　jumped　over　the　wall　into　his　neighbours　garden。
  The　consequences　would　be　bracing　in　a　sense　far　beyond　the　possibilities
  of　Ramsgate　hygiene。
  Now；　exactly　as　this　principle　applies　to　the　empire；　to　the　nation
  within　the　empire；　to　the　city　within　the　nation；　to　the　street
  within　the　city；　so　it　applies　to　the　home　within　the　street。
  The　institution　of　the　family　is　to　be　commended　for　precisely
  the　same　reasons　that　the　institution　of　the　nation；　or　the
  institution　of　the　city；　are　in　this　matter　to　be　commended。
  It　is　a　good　thing　for　a　man　to　live　in　a　family　for　the　same　reason
  that　it　is　a　good　thing　for　a　man　to　be　besieged　in　a　city。
  It　is　a　good　thing　for　a　man　to　live　in　a　family　in　the　same　sense　that　it
  is　a　beautiful　and　delightful　thing　for　a　man　to　be　snowed　up　in　a　street。
  They　all　force　him　to　realize　that　life　is　not　a　thing　from　outside；
  but　a　thing　from　inside。　　Above　all；　they　all　insist　upon　the　fact
  that　life；　if　it　be　a　truly　stimulating　and　fascinating　life；
  is　a　thing　which；　of　its　nature；　exists　in　spite　of　ourselves。
  The　modern　writers　who　have　suggested；　in　a　more　or　less　open　manner；
  that　the　family　is　a　bad　institution；　have　generally　confined
  themselves　to　suggesting；　with　much　sharpness；　bitterness；　or　pathos；
  that　perhaps　the　family　is　not　always　very　congenial。
  Of　course　the　family　is　a　good　institution　because　it　is　uncongenial。
  It　is　wholesome　precisely　because　it　contains　so　many
  divergencies　and　varieties。　　It　is；　as　the　sentimentalists　say；
  like　a　little　kingdom；　and；　like　most　other　little　kingdoms；
  is　generally　in　a　state　of　something　resembling　anarchy。
  It　is　exactly　because　our　brother　George　is　not　interested　in　our
  religious　difficulties；　but　is　interested　in　the　Trocadero　Restaurant；
  that　the　family　has　some　of　the　bracing　qualities　of　the　commonwealth。
  It　is　precisely　because　our　uncle　Henry　does　not　approve　of　the　theatrical
  ambitions　of　our　sister　Sarah　that　the　family　is　like　humanity。
  The　men　and　women　who；　for　good　reasons　and　bad；　revolt　against　the　family；
  are；　for　good　reasons　and　bad；　simply　revolting　against　mankind。
  Aunt　Elizabeth　is　unreasonable；　like　mankind。　　Papa　is　excitable；
  like　mankind　Our　youngest　brother　is　mischievous；　like　mankind。
  Grandpapa　is　stupid；　like　the　world；　he　is　old；　like　the　world。
  Those　who　wish；　rightly　or　wrongly；　to　step　out　of　all　this；
  do　definitely　wish　to　step　into　a　narrower　world。　　They　are
  dismayed　and　terrified　by　the　largeness　and　variety　of　the　family。
  Sarah　wishes　to　find　a　world　wholly　consisting　of　private　theatricals；
  George　wishes　to　think　the　Trocadero　a　cosmos。　　I　do　not　say；
  for　a　moment；　that　the　flight　to　this　narrower　life　may　not　be
  the　right　thing　for　the　individual；　any　more　than　I　say　the　same
  thing　about　flight　into　a　monastery。　　But　I　do　say　that　anything
  is　bad　and　artificial　which　tends　to　make　these　people　succumb
  to　the　strange　delusion　that　they　are　stepping　into　a　world
  which　is　actually　larger　and　more　varied　than　their　own。
  The　best　way　that　a　man　could　test　his　readiness　to　encounter　the　common
  variety　of　mankind　would　be　to　climb　down　a　chimney　into　any　house
  at　random；　and　get　on　as　well　as　possible　with　the　people　inside。
  And　that　is　essentially　what　each　one　of　us　did　on　the　day　that
  he　was　born。
  This　is；　indeed；　the　sublime　and　special　romance　of　the　family。　　It　is
  romantic　because　it　is　a　toss…up。　It　is　romantic　because　it　is　everything
  that　its　enemies　call　it。　　It　is　romantic　because　it　is　arbitrary。
  It　is　romantic　because　it　is　there。　　So　long　as　you　have　groups　of　men
  chosen　rationally；　you　have　some　special　or　sectarian　atmosphere。
  It　is　when　you　have　groups　of　men　chosen　irrationally　that　you　have　men。
  The　element　of　adventure　begins　to　exist；　for　an　adventure　is；
  by　its　nature；　a　thing　that　comes　to　us。　　It　is　a　thing　that　chooses　us；
  not　a　thing　that　we　choose。　　Falling　in　love　has　been　often
  regarded　as　the　supreme　adventure；　the　supreme　romantic　accident。
  In　so　much　as　there　is　in　it　something　outside　ourselves；
  something　of　a　sort　of　merry　fatalism；　this　is　very　true。
  Love　does　take　us　and　transfigure　and　torture　us。　　It　does　break　our
  hearts　with　an　unbearable　beauty；　like　the　unbearable　beauty　of　music。
  But　in　so　far　as　we　have　certainly　something　to　do　with　the　matter；
  in　so　far　as　we　are　in　some　sense　prepared　to　fall　in　love　and　in　some
  sense　jump　into　it；　in　so　far　as　we　do　to　some　extent　choose　and　to　some
  extent　even　judgein　all　this　falling　in　love　is　not　truly　romantic；
  is　not　truly　adventurous　at　all。　　In　this　degree　the　supreme　adventure
  is　not　falling　in　love。　　The　supreme　adventure　is　being　born。
  There　we　do　walk　suddenly　into　a　splendid　and　startling　trap。
  There　we　do　see　something　of　which　we　have　not　dreamed　before。
  Our　father　and　mother　do　lie　in　wait　for　us　and　leap　out　on　us；
  like　brigands　from　a　bush。　　Our　uncle　is　a　surprise。　　Our　aunt　is；
  in　the　beautiful　common　expression；　a　bolt　from　the　blue。
  When　we　step　into　the　family；　by　the　act　of　being　born；　we　do
  step　into　a　world　which　is　incalculable；　into　a　world　which　has
  its　own　strange　laws；　into　a　world　which　could　do　without　us；
  into　a　world　that　we　have　not　made。　　In　other　words；　when　we　step
  into　the　family　we　step　into　a　fairy…tale。
  This　colour　as　of　a　fantastic　narrative　ought　to　cling
  to　the　family　and　to　our　relations　with　it　throughout　life。
  Romance　is　the　deepest　thing　in　life；　romance　is　deeper　even
  than　reality。　　For　even　if　reality　could　be　proved　to　be　mislead