Y.M. What was it?
O.M. If you fell short of what he was expecting
and wanting, you would get a look which would shame
you before folk. That would give
you pain. You—for you are
only working for yourself, not him. If you
gave him too much you would be ashamed of
yourself for it, and that would give you
pain—another case of thinking of yourself,
protecting yourself, saving yourself from
discomfort. You never think of the servant
once—except to guess out how to get his
approval. If you get that, you get your
own approval, and that is the sole and only thing
you are after. The Master inside of you is then
satisfied, contented, comfortable; there was no
other thing at stake, as a matter of first
interest, anywhere in the transaction.
Y.M. Well, to think of it; Self-Sacrifice for
others, the grandest thing in man, ruled out! non-existent!
O.M. Are you accusing me of saying that?
Y.M. Why, certainly.
O.M. I haven’t said it.
Y.M. What did you say, then?
O.M. That no man has ever sacrificed himself
in the common meaning of that phrase—which
is, self-sacrifice for another alone. Men
make daily sacrifices for others, but it is for their
own sake first. The act must content their own
spirit first. The other beneficiaries come second.
Y.M. And the same with duty for duty’s
sake?
O.M. Yes. No man performs a duty for mere
duty’s sake; the act must content his spirit
first. He must feel better for doing the
duty than he would for shirking it. Otherwise
he will not do it.
Y.M. Take the case of the Berkeley Castle.
O.M. It was a noble duty, greatly performed.
Take it to pieces and examine it, if you like.
Y.M. A British troop-ship crowded with soldiers
and their wives and children. She struck a rock
and began to sink. There was room in the boats
for the women and children only. The colonel
lined up his regiment on the deck and said “it
is our duty to die, that they may be saved.”
There was no murmur, no protest. The boats carried
away the women and children. When the death-moment
was come, the colonel and his officers took their
several posts, the men stood at shoulder-arms, and
so, as on dress-parade, with their flag flying and
the drums beating, they went down, a sacrifice to
duty for duty’s sake. Can you view it as
other than that?
O.M. It was something as fine as that, as exalted
as that. Could you have remained in those ranks
and gone down to your death in that unflinching way?
Y.M. Could I? No, I could not.
O.M. Think. Imagine yourself there, with
that watery doom creeping higher and higher around
you.
