mind than common associates. It may be an
instinctive agreement with Plato's definition of the wise man, as ever
wanting to be with him who is better than himself. But in its usual
form it becomes an unspeakable degradation, inducing servility, and
lick-spittle humility, and all the vices of the servile mind. There
can never be true friendship without self-respect, and unless soul
meets soul free from self-seeking. If we had higher standards for
ourselves, if we lived to God and not to men, we would also find that
in the truest sense we would live with men. We need not go out of our
way to ingratiate ourselves with anybody. Nothing can make up for the
loss of independence and native dignity of soul. It is not for a man,
made in the image of God, to grovel, and demean himself before his
fellow creatures.

After all it defeats itself; for there can only be friendship _between
equals_. This does not mean equals in what is called social position,
nor even in intellectual attainments, though these naturally have
weight, but it means equality which has a spiritual source. Can two
walk together, except they be agreed? Nor does it mean identity, nor
even likeness. Indeed, for the highest unity there must be difference,
the difference of free beings, with will, and conscience, and mind
unhampered. We often make much of our differences, forgetting that
really we differ, and _can_ differ, only because we agree. Without
many points of contact, there could be no divergence from these.
Argument and contradiction of opinion are the outcome of difference,
and yet for argument there is needed a common basis. We cannot even
discuss, unless we meet on some mental ground common to both
disputants. So there may be, nay, for the highest union there must be,
a great general conformity behind the distinctions, a deep underlying
common basis beneath the unlikeness. And for true union of hearts,
this equality must have a spiritual source. If then there must be some
spiritual affinity, agreement in what is best and highest in each, we
can see the futility of most of the selfish attempts to make capital
out of our intercourse. Our friends will be, because they must be, our
equals. We can never have a nobler intimacy, until we are made fit for
it.

All connections based on selfishness, either on personal pleasure or on
usefulness, are accidental. They are easily dissolved, because, when
the pleasure or the utility ceases, the