state, the more completely are we free. The nature of the social bond makes service to its demands the very essence of freedom. Before I seek to analyse this view, I would point out how simply this argument enables us to resolve the very difficult problem of social obligation. When I obey the state, I obey the best part of myself. The more fully I discover its purposes the more fully, also, there is revealed to me their identity with that at which, in the long view, I aim. So that when I obey it, I am, in fact, obeying myself; in a real sense its commands are my own. Its view is built upon the innumerable intelligences from the interplay of which social organization derives its ultimate form; obviously such a view is superior in its wisdom to the result my own petty knowledge can attain. My true liberty is, therefore, a kind of permanent tutelage to the state, a sacrifice of my limited purpose to its larger end upon the ground that, as this larger end is realized, so I, too, am given realization. I may, in fact, be most fully free when I am most suffused with the sense of compulsion. To me, at least, this view contradicts all the major facts of experience. It seems to me to imply not only a paralysis of the will, but a denial of that uniqueness of individuality, that sense that each of us is ultimately different from our fellows, that is the ultimate fact of human experience. For as I encounter the state, it is for me a body of men issuing orders. Most of them I can obey either with active good will or, at least, with indifference. But I may encounter some one order, a demand, for instance, for military service, a compulsion to abandon my religious faith, which seems to me in direct contradiction to the whole scheme of values I have found in life. How I can be the more free by subordinating my judgment of right to one which directly changes that judgment to its opposite, I cannot understand. If the individual is not to find the source of his decisions in the contact between the outer world and himself, in the experience, that is, which is the one unique thing that separates him from the rest of society, he ceases to have meaning as an individual in any sense that is creative. For the individual is real to himself not by reason of the contacts he shares with others, but because he reaches those contacts through a channel which he alone can know. His true self is the self that is isolated from his fellows and contributes the fruit of isolated meditation to the common good, which, collectively, they seek to bring into being.