The next higher stage, however, starts from within, the giver seeking to promote another’s welfare at the cost of his own. But there is always uncertainty in accomplishing this; it extends at best only to brief portions of life, is impossible wherever rational claim enters, and never escapes a suggestion of haughty disparagement. The trouble in both of these stages is, after all, the same. _Alter_ and _ego_ have been conceived as distinct, and getting has been separated from giving. But surely this is unnecessary. There are mutual situations in life where each of two parties is at once giver and receiver. The single self may be entirely at one with the conjunct, the conjunct with the single. Only so in mutuality can altruism become complete. To explaining this curious situation I shall devote my remaining chapters. But before doing so I wish to turn back and make atonement for a certain erroneous light in which I have placed these earlier stages. When I was analyzing manners my readers must have felt that those are not the manners with which they are familiar. They have never felt the need of barriers between friends or thought of manners as a protective agency. Nor in gifts have they come upon my perplexities. Giving and receiving have seemed to them matters usual and pleasant, and no notion of superiority or inferiority has entered their heads. No doubt this is a more frequent experience than that just described. Yet my account is correct and important. It states the minimum of altruism which necessarily enters into manners, what they are when taken by themselves and unaffected by any higher range of our being. As soon as we become acquainted with giving, it reacts on this earlier stage and fills it with new meaning. Egoistic elements are softened. Manners are used as an opportunity for tactful giving. An atmosphere of kindness takes the place of restraint, the formal manners I have described being reserved for formal occasions. Fortunately this higher civilization is now wide-spread. Yet we can still detect what I would call the guarded manners of some persons and set them in contrast to the generous manners of others. People of guarded manners are ever mindful of their own dignity, hold themselves somewhat aloof, and make much of punctilio. Those of generous manners are ready to spend themselves freely for the pleasure of those about them and seem able to save any occasion from dulness with their stores of information, wit, song, and lively anecdote. These persons look after those less accustomed to society and unobtrusively help them on. But even their admirable work is exceeded by those accustomed to mutuality. These give us no impression of wealthy persons imparting to us their stores. Their work is quieter. Their manners might be called friendly. They set every one at ease and do not so much give as share, appearing as much interested in our affairs as we could be in theirs. In their presence