There have been times when I have been genuinely self-sacrificing. Indeed I should unhesitatingly die for my son, my daughters--and probably for my wife. I have frequently suffered financial loss rather than commit perjury or violate my sense of what is right. I have called this sense an instinct, but I do not pretend to know what it is. Neither can I explain its origin. If it is anything it is probably utilitarian; but it does not go very far. I have manners rather than morals. Fundamentally I am honest, because to be honest is one of the rules of the game I play. If I were caught cheating I should not be allowed to participate. Honesty from this point of view is so obviously the best policy that I have never yet met a big man in business who was crooked. Mind you, they were most of them pirates--frankly flying the black flag and each trying to scuttle the other's ships; but their word was as good as their bond and they played the game squarely, according to the rules. Men of my class would no more stoop to petty dishonesties than they would wear soiled linen. The word lie is not in their mutual language. They may lie to the outside public--I do not deny that they do--but they do not lie to each other. There has got to be some basis on which they can do business with one another--some stability. The spoils must be divided evenly. Good morals, like good manners, are a necessity in our social relations. They are the uncodified rules of conduct among gentlemen. Being uncodified, they are exceedingly vague; and the court of Public Opinion that administers them is apt to be not altogether impartial. It is a "respecter of persons." One man can get away with things that another man will hang for. A Jean Valjean will steal a banana and go to the Island, while some rich fellow will put a bank in his pocket and everybody will treat it as a joke. A popular man may get drunk and not be criticized for it; but the sour chap who does the same thing is flung out of the club. There is little justice in the arbitrary decisions of society at large. In a word we exact a degree of morality from our fellowmen precisely in proportion to its apparent importance to ourselves. It is a purely practical and even a rather shortsighted matter with us. Our friend's private conduct, so far as it does not concern us, is an affair of small moment. He can be as much of a roue as he chooses, so long as he respects our wives and daughters. He can put through a gigantic commercial robbery and we will acclaim his nerve and audacity, provided he is on the level with ourselves. That is the reason why cheating one's club members at cards is regarded as worse than stealing the funds belonging to widows and orphans.