There is a loneliness that survives good company.
A man can sit among people who like him and still keep the greater part of his life to himself. He becomes skilled at giving the short answer. Work is going well enough. He has plans. He is keeping busy.
Often, he is. There are things to finish and people who need him. He has learned to make himself useful in rooms where he struggles to feel at home.
The question is what happens when usefulness is no longer enough to carry the conversation.
When he has made a mistake. When the work has dried up. When he has nothing impressive to report. When he wants to speak about something he has never found the right words for.
A place among men has to be made for those occasions, too.
The bond of the Order is kept in ordinary acts. Remember what a man told you. Keep the confidence he entrusted to you. Read the work he was reluctant to show. Return when you said you would.
In time, a man may find himself speaking more plainly. He may discover that another man has been trying, in his own language, to say something familiar.
Their lives will differ. Each has things the other cannot know. Listening does not require the two accounts to become the same.
Nor does belonging relieve a man of responsibility. The Measure applies when he is admired and when he is ashamed. If he has caused harm, friendship must be strong enough to hear the truth of it.
We hold that a man can carry unfinished things and still give himself to a meaningful life.
He can have people to stand beside, work worth undertaking, and a place where his word matters. He can learn what he has to offer through offering it.
These are the things the Order asks its men to make for one another.
The bond leaves each man his conscience, his other relationships, and the freedom to go. It must be worth returning to freely.