86 INDIVIDUALISM nificance of the search for power, whenever power is sought otherwise than as a mere means to some more ideal goal. Let us then merely recall the well-known verdict that tragedy and comedy, and the wisdom of the ages, have passed upon the lust of power.
The objections to defining your individual good in terms merely of power are threefold. First, the attainment of power is a matter of fortune. Set your heart upon power, make it your central good in life, and you have staked the worth of your moral individuality upon a mere venture. In the end old age and death will at best make a mockery of whatever purely individual powers your life as a human being can possess for yourself alone. While life lasts, the attainment of power is at best but a little less uncertain than the attainment of a purely private individual happiness. This is the first objection to power as the highest indi vidual good. It is an objection as sound as it is old; and in this objection the poets and the sages are at one; and the cynics join in the verdict.
87 THE PHILOSOPHY OF LOYALTY Secondly, the lust for power is insatiable. To say, I seek merely power, not as a means to an end, but as my chief good, is to say that, for my own sake alone, I condemn myself to a laborious quest that is certain, from my own point of view and however fortune favors me, to give me a constantly increasing sense that I have not found what I need. Thus, then, I condemn myself to an endless disappointment. This objection is also well known; and it is easily illustrated. After fortune had long seemed to be actually unable to thwart Na poleon, he went on to destroy himself, merely because his lust for power grew with what it fed upon, until the fatal Russian campaign became inevitable.
Thirdly, in the often quoted words of Spi noza, "The power of man is infinitely surpassed by the power of external things;" and hence the seeker after merely individual power has undertaken a battle with the essentially irre sistible forces of the whole universe. There fore, to adapt other words of Spinoza, when such a seeker after power "ceases to suffer, he 88 INDIVIDUALISM 88 INDIVIDUALISM ceases also to be." The larger one's powers, the more are the places in which he comes in contact with the world that he would con quer, and the more are the ways in which he feels its force. It is with the seeker after indi vidual power as it has lately been with some of our greater corporations. The vaster the capi tal of these corporations, and the more widely spread the interests that they control, the more numerous are their enemies, the harder the legislative enactments that they have to fear, the greater their fines if they are convicted of misdoing. Power means increasing oppor tunities for conflict. Hence the mere seeker for power not only, by the accidents of fortune, may meet his downfall, but also, himself, actively pursues his own destruction.
Whoever pursues power, and only power, wars therefore with unconquerable fate. But you may retort: "Are the loyal also not sub ject to fortune, like others?" And, in reply, I call at once attention to the fact that pre cisely such fate is what the loyal also unhesi tatingly face; but they meet it in a totally THE PHILOSOPHY OF LOYALTY different spirit. They, too, are indeed subject to fortune; their loyalty, also, is an insatiable passion to serve their cause; they also know what it is to meet with tasks that are too vast for mortals to accomplish. Only their very loyalty, since it is a willing surrender of the self to the cause, is no hopeless warfare with this fate, but is a joyous acceptance in advance of the inevitable destiny of every individual human being. In such matters, as you well know, "the readiness is all." Loyalty discounts death, for it is from the start a readiness to die for the cause. It defies fortune; for it says: " Lo, have I not surrendered my all? Did I ever assert that just I must be fortunate?" Since it views life as service of the cause, it is content with an endless quest. Since nothing is too vast to undertake for the cause, loyalty regards the greatness of its tasks as mere opportunity. But the lust of power, on the contrary, has staked its value not upon the giving up of self-will, but upon the attainment of private possessions, upon the winning of the hopeless fight of the individual with his 90 INDIVIDUALISM 90 INDIVIDUALISM private fate. Hence, in a world of wandering and of private disasters and unsettlement, the loyal indeed are always at home. For how ever they may wander or lose, they view their cause as fixed and as worthy. To serve the cause is an honor; and this honor they have in their own possession. But in this same world the seekers for power are never at home. If they have conquered Western Europe, power lies still hidden in the Far East, and they wan der into the snows of a Russian winter in pur suit of that ghost of real life which always beckons to them from the dark world beyond. Napoleon's loyal soldiers won, indeed, their goal when they died in his service. But he lost. They were more fortunate than was their leader. They had their will, and then slept. He lived on for a while, and failed.
Such considerations may suffice to show wherein consists the blindness of those who in our day seem to themselves to have more rights than duties. This homily of mine about the vanity of the lust for power is, of course, a very old story. You may think these remarks 91 THE PHILOSOPHY OF LOYALTY but wearisome moral platitudes. But we all have to learn this sort of lesson sometime afresh, and for ourselves. And if the story of the fate of the lust for power is old, it is none the less true. And it is a story that we in America seem to need to have told to us anew to-day. Any financial crisis with its tragedies can serve by way of illustration.
But perhaps this is not the form of indi vidualism which is asserted by the ethical individualist whom I am now addressing. Perhaps you say: " It is not mere power that I want. I demand moral autonomy, personal independence of judgment. I want to call my soul my own. The highest good is an active self-possession." Well, in this case I wholly agree with your demand, precisely in so far as you make that demand positive. I only undertake to supplement your own state ment of your demand, and to oppose your denial of the supreme value of loyalty. For what end, I insist, is your moral independence good? Do you find anything finally impor tant in the mere fact that you are unlike any- 92 INDIVIDUALISM 92 INDIVIDUALISM body else, or that you think good what another man condemns? What worth could you find in an independence that should merely isolate you, that should leave you but a queer creature, whose views are shared by nobody? No, - you are still a social being. What you really mean is, that you want to be heard and re spected as regards your choice of your own cause. What you actually intend is, that no body else shall determine, apart from this your own choice, the special loyalty that shall be yours.
Now, I, who have defined loyalty as the will ing devotion of a self to a cause, am far from demanding from you any unwilling devotion to any cause. You are autonomous, of course. You can even cut loose from all loyalty if you will. I only plead that, if you do so, if you wholly decline to devote yourself to any cause whatever, your assertion of moral indepen dence will remain but an empty proclaiming of a moral sovereignty over your life, without any definite life over which to be sovereign. For the only definite life that you can live will 93 THE PHILOSOPHY OF LOYALTY be a social life. This social life may indeed be one of enmity to society. But in that case your social order will crush you, and then your moral independence will die without any of the comfort of the loyal man's last glimpse of the banner for which he sheds his blood. For the loyal man's cause survives him. Your independence will die with you, and while it lives, nobody else will find its life worth insur ing. Your last word will then be simply the empty phrase: "Lo, I asserted myself." But in the supposed case of your enmity to society, you will never know what it was that you thus asserted when you asserted yourself. For a man's self has no contents, no plans, no pur poses, except those which are, in one way or another, defined for him by his social relations. Or, again, your life may indeed be one of social conformity, of merely conventional morality. But such a life you, as individualist, have learned to despise, --I think justly. Your only recourse, then, is to assert your autonomy by choosing a cause, and by loyally living, and, when need be, dying for that cause. Then you 94 INDIVIDUALISM 94 INDIVIDUALISM will not only assert yourself by your choice of a cause, but express yourself articulately by your service. The only way to be practically autonomous is to be freely loyal.
Such considerations serve to indicate my answer to those individualists who insist upon moral independence. My young Russian and my friend, the teacher, were individualists of this type. My answer to them both, as you see, is that the only coherent moral independence which you can define is one that has to find its expression in a loyal life. There is endless room, as we shall hereafter see, for a rational autonomy in your choice of your cause.
But you may still insist that one other form of individualism remains open to you. You may say: "I seek spirituality, serenity, an inward peace, which the world cannot give or take away. Therefore my highest good lies not in loyalty, but in this interior perfection." But once more I answer you with the whole verdict of human experience regarding the true nature of spiritual self-possession. You seek serenity. Yes, but you do not want your 95 THE PHILOSOPHY OF LOYALTY serenity to mean mere apathy. You seek peace, but you do not want dreamless sleep, nor yet the repose of a swoon. The stones seem to remain serene when you by chance stumble over them; some tropical islanders slumber peacefully in their huts when there is no work pressing. But the types of serenity that are for you in question are not of such sort. You are an ethical individualist. Your repose must therefore be the only repose pos sible to a being with a conscious and a vital will of his own. It must be the repose of ac tivity; the assurance of one who lives ener getically, even because he lives in the spirit. But in what spirit shall you live? Are you not a man? Can you live with an active will of your own without living amongst your brethren? Seek, then, serenity, but let it be the serenity of the devotedly and socially active being. Otherwise your spiritual peace is a mere feeling of repose, and, as such, contents at its best but one side of your nature, namely, the merely sensuous side. The massive sen sation that all things are somehow well is not 96 INDIVIDUALISM 96 INDIVIDUALISM the highest good of an active being. Even one of the most typical of mystics, Meister Eckhart, once stated his case, regarding a true spiritual life, thus: ' That a man should have a life of rest and peace in God is good; that he should bear a painful life with patience is better; but that he should find his rest even in his pain ful life, that is best of all." Now, this last state, the finding of one's rest and spiritual fulfilment even in one's very life of toil itself, - this state is precisely the state of the loyal, in so far as their loyalty gets full control of their emotional nature. I grant you that not all the loyal are possessed of this serenity; but that is because of their defects of nature or of training. Their loyalty would be more effective, indeed, if it were colored throughout by the serenity that you pursue. But your own peace of spirit will be meaningless unless it is the peace of one who is willingly devoted to his cause. 'The loving," says Bayard Taylor, in his lyric of Sebastopol, "the loving are the dar ing." And I say: The truly serene of spirit are to be found at their best amongst the loyal.
THE PHILOSOPHY OF LOYALTY In view of such considerations, when I listen to our modern ethical individualists, — to our poets, dramatists, essayists who glorify per sonal initiative — to our Walt Whitman, to Ibsen, and, above all, when I listen to Nietzsche, —I confess that these men move me for a time, but that erelong I begin to listen with impa tience. Of course, I then say, be indeed auton omous. Be an individual. But for Heaven's sake, set about the task. Do not forever whet the sword of your resolve. Begin the battle of real individuality. Why these endless pre liminary gesticulations? "Leave off thy — • grimaces," and begin. There is only one way to be an ethical individual. That is to choose your cause, and then to serve it, as the Samurai his feudal chief, as the ideal knight of romantic story his lady, — in the spirit of all the loyal.
98 Ill LOYALTY TO LOYALTY LECTURE III LOYALTY TO LOYALTY THE two foregoing lectures have been de voted to defending the thesis that loyalty is, for the loyal individual himself, a supreme good, whatever be, for the world in general, the worth of his cause. We are next to con sider what are the causes which are worthy of loyalty.
I I But before I go on to this new stage of our discussion, I want, by way of summary of all that has preceded, to get before your minds as clear an image as I can of some representative instance of loyalty. The personal dignity and worth of a loyal character can best be appre ciated by means of illustrations. And I con fess that those illustrations of loyalty which my earlier lectures used must have aroused some associations which I do not want, as I go on to THE PHILOSOPHY OF LOYALTY my further argument, to leave too prominent in your minds. I chose those instances be cause they were familiar. Perhaps they are too familiar. I have mentioned the patriot aflame with the war-spirit, the knight of ro mance, and the Japanese Samurai. But these examples may have too much emphasized the common but false impression that loyalty necessarily has to do with the martial virtues and with the martial vices. I have also used the instance of the loyal captain standing by his sinking ship. But this case suggests that the loyal have their duties assigned to them by some established and customary routine of the service to which they belong. And that, again, is an association that I do not want you to make too prominent. Loyalty is perfectly consistent with originality. The loyal man . may -often have to show his loyalty by some act which no mere routine predetermines. He may have to be as inventive of his duties as he is faithful to them.
Now, I myself have for years used in my own classes, as an illustration of the personal wrorth LOYALTY TO LOYALTY and beauty of loyalty, an incident of English history, which has often been cited as a precedent in discussions of the constitutional privileges of the House of Commons, but which, as I think, has not been sufficiently noticed by moralists. Let me set that incident now be fore your imagination. Thus, I say, do the loyal bear themselves: In January, 1642, just before the outbreak of hostilities between King Charles I and the Commons, the King resolved to arrest certain leaders of the oppo sition party in Parliament. He accordingly sent his herald to the House to demand the surrender of these members into his custody. The Speaker of the House in reply solemnly appealed to the ancient privileges of the House, which gave to that body jurisdiction over its own members, and which forbade their arrest without its consent. The conflict between the privileges of the House and the royal preroga tive was herewith definitely initiated. The King resolved by a show of force to assert at once his authority; and, on the day following that upon which the demand sent through his THE PHILOSOPHY OF LOYALTY herald had been refused, he went in person, accompanied by soldiers, to the House. Then, having placed his guards at the doors, he en tered, went up to the Speaker, and, naming the members whom he desired to arrest, demanded, "Mr. Speaker, do you espy these persons in the House?"
You will observe that the moment was an unique one in English history. Custom, prece dent, convention, obviously were inadequate to define the Speaker's duty in this most criti cal instance. How, then, could he most ad mirably express himself? How best preserve his genuine personal dignity? What response would secure to the Speaker his own highest good? Think of the matter merely as one of the Speaker's individual worth and reputation. By what act could he do himself most honor?
In fact, as the well-known report, entered in the Journal of the House, states, the Speaker at once fell on his knee before the King and said::<Your Majesty, I am the Speaker of this House, and, being such, I have neither eyes to see nor tongue to speak save as this LOYALTY TO LOYALTY House shall command; and I humbly beg your Majesty's pardon if this is the only an swer that I can give to your Majesty."
Now, I ask you not, at this point, to consider the Speaker's reply to the King as a deed having historical importance, or in fact as having value for anybody but himself. I want you to view the act merely as an instance of a supremely worthy personal attitude. The beautiful union of formal humility (when the Speaker fell on his knee before the King) with unconquerable self-assertion (when the reply rang with so clear a note of lawful de fiance); the willing and complete identifica tion of his whole self with his cause (when the Speaker declared that he had no eye or tongue except as his office gave them to him), — these are characteristics typical of a loyal attitude. The Speaker's words were at once ingenious and obvious. They were in line with the an cient custom of the realm. They were also creative of a new precedent. He had to be inventive to utter them; but once uttered, they seem almost commonplace in their plain truth.
THE PHILOSOPHY OF LOYALTY The King might be offended at the refusal; but he could not fail to note that, for the mo ment, he had met with a personal dignity greater than kingship, — the dignity that any loyal man, great or humble, possesses whenever he speaks and acts in the service of his cause. Well --here is an image of loyalty. Thus, I say, whatever their cause, the loyal express themselves. When any one asks me what the worthiest personal bearing, the most dignified and internally complete expression of an indi vidual is, I can therefore only reply: Such a bearing, such an expression of yourself as the Speaker adopted. Have, then, your cause, chosen by you just as the Speaker had chosen to accept his office from the House. Let this cause so possess you that, even in the most thrilling crisis of your practical service of that cause, you can say with the Speaker: "I am the servant of this cause, its reasonable, its willing, its devoted instrument, and, being such, I have neither eyes to see nor tongue to speak save as this cause shall command." Let this be your bearing, and this your deed.
LOYALTY TO LOYALTY LOYALTY TO LOYALTY Then, indeed, you know what you live for. And you have won the attitude which consti tutes genuine personal dignity. What an indi vidual in his practical bearing can be, you now are. And herein, as I have said, lies for you a supreme personal good.
II With this image of the loyal self before us, let us now return to the main thread of our discourse. We have deliberately declined, so far, to consider what the causes are to which men ought to be loyal. To turn to this task is the next step in our philosophy of loyalty.
Your first impression may well be that the task in question is endlessly complex. In our opening lecture we defined indeed some gen eral characteristics which a cause must possess in order to be a fitting object of loyalty. A cause, we said, is a possible object of loyalty only in case it is such as to join many persons into the unity of a single life. Such a cause, we said, must therefore be at once personal, and, for one who defines personality from a purely THE PHILOSOPHY OF LOYALTY human point of view, superpersonal. Our ini tial illustrations of possible causes were, first, a friendship which unites several friends into some unity of friendly life; secondly, a family, whose unity binds its members' lives together; and, thirdly, the state, in so far as it is no mere collection of separate citizens, but such an unity as that to which the devoted patriot is loyal. As we saw, such illustrations could be vastly extended. All stable social relations may giye rise to causes that may call forth loyalty.
Now, it is obvious that nobody can be equally and directly loyal to all of the countless actual social causes that exist. It is obvious also that many causes which conform to our general definition of a possible cause may appear to any given person to be hateful and evil causes, to which he is justly opposed. A robber band, a family engaged in a murderous feud, a pirate crew, a savage tribe, a Highland robber clan of the old days — these might constitute causes to which somebody has been, or is, pro foundly loyal. Men have loved such causes devotedly, have served them for a lifetime.
LOYALTY TO LOYALTY LOYALTY TO LOYALTY Yet most of us would easily agree in thinking such causes unworthy of anybody's loyalty. Moreover, different loyalties may obviously stand in mutual conflict, whenever their causes are opposed. Family feuds are embittered by the very strength of the loyalty of both sides. My country, if I am the patriot inflamed by the war-spirit, seems an absolutely worthy cause; but my enemy's country usually seems hateful to me just because of my own loyalty; and therefore even my individual enemy may be hated because of the supposed baseness of his cause. War-songs call the individual enemy evil names just because he possesses the very personal qualities that, in our own loyal fellow- countrymen, we most admire. "No refuge could save the hireling and slave." Our enemy, as you see, is a slave, because he serves his cause so obediently. Yet just such service we call, in our own country's heroes, the wor thiest devotion.
Meanwhile, in the foregoing account of loyalty as a spiritual good to the loyal man, we have insisted that true loyalty, being a willing THE PHILOSOPHY OF LOYALTY devotion of the self to its cause, involves some element of autonomous choice. Tradition has usually held that a man ought to be loyal to just that cause which his social station deter mines for him. Common sense generally says, that if you were born in your country, and still live there, you ought to be loyal to that country, and to that country only, hating the enemies across the border whenever a declaration of war requires you to hate them. But we have declared that true loyalty includes some ele ment of free choice. Hence our own account seems still further to have complicated the theory of loyalty. For in answering in our last lecture the ethical individualists who ob jected to loyalty, we have ourselves deliberately given to loyalty an individualistic coloring. And if our view be right, and if tradition be wrong, so much the more difficult appears to be the task of defining wherein consists that which makes a cause worthy of loyalty for a given man, since tradition alone is for us an insufficient guide.
To sum up, then, our apparent difficulties, no LOYALTY TO LOYALTY they are these: Loyalty is a good for the loyal man; but it may be mischievous for those whom his cause assails. Conflicting loyalties may mean general social disturbances; and the fact that loyalty is good for the loyal does not of itself decide whose cause is right when various causes stand opposed to one another. And if, in accordance with our own argument in the foregoing lecture, we declare that the best form of loyalty, for the loyal individual, is the one that he freely chooses for himself, so much the greater seems to be the complica tion of the moral world, and so much the more numerous become the chances that the loyal ties of various people will conflict with one another.
Ill In order to overcome such difficulties, now that they have arisen in our way, and in order to discover a principle whereby one may be guided in choosing a right object for his loyalty, we must steadfastly bear in mind that, when we declared loyalty to be a supreme good for in THE PHILOSOPHY OF LOYALTY the loyal man himself, we were not speaking of a good that can come to a few men only — to heroes or to saints of an especially exalted mental type. As we expressly said, the mightiest and the humblest members of any social order can be morally equal in the ex emplification of loyalty. Whenever I myself begin to look about my own community to single out those people whom I know to be, in the sense of our definition, especially loyal to their various causes, I always find, amongst the most exemplary cases of loyalty, a few in deed of the most prominent members of the community, whom your minds and mine must at once single out because their public services and their willing sacrifices have made their loyalty to their chosen causes a matter of com mon report and of easy observation. But my own mind also chooses some of the plain est and obscurest of the people whom I chance to know, the most straightforward and simple- minded of folk, whose loyalty is even all the more sure to me because I can certainly affirm that they, at least, cannot be making LOYALTY TO LOYALTY LOYALTY TO LOYALTY any mere display of loyalty in order that they should be seen of men. Nobody knows of their loyalty except those who are in more or less direct touch with them; and these usually appreciate this loyalty too little. You all of you similarly know plain and wholly obscure men and women, of whom the world has never heard, and is not worthy, but who have pos sessed and who have proved in the presence of you who have chanced to observe them, a loyalty to their chosen causes which was not indeed expressed in martial deeds, but which was quite as genuine a loyalty as that of a Samurai, or as that of Arnold von Winkelried when he rushed upon the Austrian spears. As for the ordinary expressions of loyalty, not at critical moments and in the heroic instants that come to the plainest lives, but in daily business, we are all aware how the letter carrier and the housemaid may live, and often do live, when they choose, as complete a daily life of steadfast loyalty as could any knight or king. Some of us certainly know precisely such truly great personal embodiments of loyalty in those who THE PHILOSOPHY OF LOYALTY are, in the world's ill-judging eyes, the little ones of the community.
Now these facts, I insist, show that loyalty is in any case no aristocratic gift of the few. It is, indeed, too rare a possession to-day in our own American social order; but that defect is due to the state of our present moral education. We as a nation, I fear, have been forgetting loyalty. We have been neglecting to cultivate it in our social order. We have been making light of it. We have not been train ing ourselves for it. Hence we, indeed, often sadly miss it in our social environment. But all sound human beings are made for it and can learn to possess it and to profit by it. And it is an essentially accessible and prac tical virtue for everybody.
This being true, let us next note that all the complications which we just reported are ob viously due, in the main, to the fact that, as loyal men at present are, their various causes, and so their various loyalties, are viewed by them as standing in mutual, sometimes in deadly conflict. In general, as is plain if LOYALTY TO LOYALTY LOYALTY TO LOYALTY somebody's loyalty to a given cause, as for instance to a family, or to a state, so expresses itself as to involve a feud with a neighbor's family, or a warlike assault upon a foreign state, the result is obviously an evil; and at least part of the reason why it is an evil is that, by reason of the feud or the war, a cer tain good, namely, the enemy's loyalty, to gether with the enemy's opportunity to be loyal, is assailed, is thwarted, is endangered, is, perhaps, altogether destroyed. If the loy alty of A is a good for him, and if the loyalty of B is a good for him, then a feud between A and B, founded upon a mutual conflict between the causes that they serve, obviously involves this evil, namely, that each of the combatants assails, and perhaps may alto gether destroy, precisely what we have seen to be the best spiritual possession of the other, namely, his chance to have a cause and to be loyal to a cause. The militant loyalty, indeed, also assails, in such a case, the enemy's physical comfort and well-being, his property, his life; and herein, of course, THE PHILOSOPHY OF LOYALTY militant loyalty does evil to the enemy. But if each man's having and serving a cause is his best good, the worst of the evils of a feud is the resulting attack, not upon the enemy's comfort or his health or his property or his life, but upon the most precious of his posses sions, his loyalty itself.
If loyalty is a supreme good, the mutually destructive conflict of loyalties is in general a supreme evil. If loyalty is a good for all sorts and conditions of men, the war of man against man has been especially mischievous, not so much because it has hurt, maimed, im poverished, or slain men, as because it has so often robbed the defeated of their causes, of their opportunities to be loyal, and some times of their very spirit of loyalty.
If, then, we look over the field of human life to see where good and evil have most clustered, we see that the best in human life is its loyalty; while the worst is whatever has tended to make loyalty impossible, or to destroy it when present, or to rob it of its own while it still survives. And of all things that LOYALTY TO LOYALTY LOYALTY TO LOYALTY thus have warred with loyalty, the bitterest woe of humanity has been that so often it is the loyal themselves who have thus blindly and eagerly gone about to wound and to slay the loyalty of their brethren. The spirit of loyalty has been misused to make men commit sin against this very spirit, holy as it is. For such a sin is precisely what any wanton con flict of loyalties means. Where such a con flict occurs, the best, namely, loyalty, is used as an instrument in order to compass the worst, namely, the destruction of loyalty.
It is true, then, that some causes are good, while some are evil. But the test of good and evil in the causes to which men are loyal is now definable in terms which we can greatly simplify in view of the foregoing considera tions.
If, namely, I find a cause, and this cause fascinates me, and I give myself over to its service, I in so far attain what, for me, if my loyalty is complete, is a supreme good. But my cause, by our own definition, is a social cause, which binds many into the unity of THE PHILOSOPHY OF LOYALTY one service. My cause, therefore, gives me, of necessity, fellow-servants, who with me share this loyalty, and to whom this loyalty, if complete, is also a supreme good. So far, then, in being loyal myself, I not only get but give good; for I help to sustain, in each of my fellow-servants, his own loyalty, and so I help him to secure his own supreme good. In so far, then, my loyalty to my cause is also a loyalty to my fellows' loyalty. But now suppose that my cause, like the family in a feud, or like the pirate ship, or like the aggres sively warlike nation, lives by the destruction of the loyalty of other families, or of its own community, or of other communities. Then, indeed, I get a good for myself and for my fellow-servants by our common loyalty; but I war against this very spirit of loyalty as it appears in our opponent's loyalty to his own cause.
And so, a cause is good, not only for me, but for mankind, in so far as it is essentially a loyalty to loyalty, that is, is an aid and a furtherance of loyalty in my fellows. It is an LOYALTY TO LOYALTY