ation of
the unity of the species, is a mode of self-expansion, of being another.
To be conquered, or at least to seem to be conquered, is often to
conquer; to take what is another's is a way of living in him.

And in speaking of domination, I do not mean the domination of the
tiger. The fox also dominates by cunning, and the hare by flight, and
the viper by poison, and the mosquito by its smallness, and the squid by
the inky fluid with which it darkens the water and under cover of which
it escapes. And no one is scandalized at this, for the same universal
Father who gave its fierceness, its talons, and its jaws to the tiger,
gave cunning to the fox, swift feet to the hare, poison to the viper,
diminutiveness to the mosquito, and its inky fluid to the squid. And
nobleness or ignobleness does not consist in the weapons we use, for
every species and even every individual possesses its own, but rather in
the way in which we use them, and above all in the cause in which we
wield them.

And among the weapons of conquest must be included the weapon of
patience and of resignation, but a passionate patience and a passionate
resignation, containing within itself an active principle and antecedent
longings. You remember that famous sonnet of Milton--Milton, the great
fighter, the great Puritan disturber of the spiritual peace, the singer
of Satan--who, when he considered how his light was spent and that one
talent which it is death to hide lodged with him useless, heard the
voice of Patience saying to him,

God doth not need
Either man's work, or his own gifts; who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve Him best: his state
Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed,
And post o'er land and ocean without rest;
They also serve who only stand and wait.

They also serve who only stand and wait--yes, but it is when they wait
for Him passionately, hungeringly, full of longing for immortality in
Him.

And we must impose ourselves, even though it be by our patience. "My cup
is small, but I drink out of my cup," said the egoistical poet of an
avaricious people.[58] No, out of my cup all drink, for I wish all to
drink out of it; I offer it to them, and my cup grows according to the
number of those who drink out of it, and all, in putting it to their
lips, leave in it something of their spirit. And while they drink out of
my cup, I also drink out of theirs. For the more I belong to myself, and