Justice was born outside the home and a long way from it; and it has never even been adopted there. Justice is wholly social in its nature--extra-domestic--even anti-domestic. Just men may seek to do justly in their homes, but it is hard work. Intense, personal feeling, close ties of blood, are inimical to the exercise of justice. Do we expect the judge upon the bench to do justice, dispassionate, unswerving, on his own child--his own wife--in the dock? If he does, we hail him as more than mortal. Do we expect a common man--not a judge with all the training and experience of his place, but a plain man--to do justice to his own wife and his own child in the constant intimacy of the home? Do we expect the mother to do justice to the child when the child is the offender and the mother the offended? Where plaintiff, judge, and executioner are lodged in one person; where there is no third party--no spectators even--only absolute irresponsible power, why should we--how could we--expect justice! We don't. We do not even think of it. No child cries for "Justice!" to the deaf walls of the home--he never heard of it. He gets love--endless love and indulgence. He gets anger and punishment with no court of appeal. He gets care--neglect--discourtesy--affection-- indifference--cruelty--and sometimes wise and lovely training--but none of these are justice. The home, as such, in no way promotes justice; but, in its disproportionate and unbalanced position to-day, palpably perverts and prevents it. Allied to justice, following upon large equality and recognition of others, comes that true estimate of one's self and one's own powers which is an unnamed virtue. "Humility" is not it--to undervalue and depreciate one's self may be the opposite of pride, but it is not a virtue. A just estimate is not humility. But call it humility for convenience' sake; and see how ill it flourishes at home. In that circumscribed horizon small things look large. There is no general measuring point, no healthy standard of comparison. The passionate love of the wife, the mother, and equally of the husband, the father, makes all geese swans. The parents idealise their children; and the children, even more restricted by the home atmosphere--_for they know no other_--idealise the parents. This is sometimes to their advantage--often the other way. Constant study of near objects, with no distant horizon to rest and change the focus, makes us short-sighted; and, as we all know, the smallest object is large if you hold it near enough. Constant association with one's nearest and dearest necessarily tends to a disproportionate estimate of their values.