which rules a living line from its beginning, even though the intention
be towards a point while the first spring of the line is towards an
opening curve. But man does not care for intention; he mows it. Nor
does he care for attitude; he rolls it. In a word, he proves to the
grass, as plainly as deeds can do so, that it is not to his mind. The
rolling, especially, seems to be a violent way of showing that the
universal grass interrupted by the life of the Englishman is not as he
would have it. Besides, when he wishes to deride a city, he calls it
grass-grown.

But his suburbs shall not, if he can help it, be grass-grown. They shall
not be like a mere Pisa. Highgate shall not so, nor Peckham.




A WOMAN IN GREY


The mothers of Professors were indulged in the practice of jumping at
conclusions, and were praised for their impatience of the slow process of
reason.

Professors have written of the mental habits of women as though they
accumulated generation by generation upon women, and passed over their
sons. Professors take it for granted, obviously by some process other
than the slow process of reason, that women derive from their mothers and
grandmothers, and men from their fathers and grandfathers. This, for
instance, was written lately: "This power [it matters not what] would be
about equal in the two sexes but for the influence of heredity, which