I know it is very hard to rise above the influences of party

“I know it is very hard to rise above the influences of party prejudice. Often, it almost drowns the sentiment of patriotism. Party rancor and party hatred are the last serpents which the genius of patriotism can crush.” Thus spoke Joseph P. Bradley, Associate Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States, a man who lived in the turbulent years following the Civil War, when the wounds of a divided nation had not yet healed. In these words, he revealed the eternal struggle between loyalty to faction and loyalty to country, between the narrow fire of party prejudice and the higher flame of patriotism.

The origin of this reflection lies in an age when the Republic was torn by fierce battles of politics and principle. Bradley witnessed a nation struggling to reconcile liberty with unity, and justice with power. He knew well that men often clung so tightly to their parties, their labels, and their factions that they forgot the greater cause for which the nation stood. To him, party rancor was not merely a quarrel—it was a venomous serpent, poisoning the wells of unity, threatening to suffocate the very patriotism that bound Americans together.

History offers vivid proof of his wisdom. Consider the bitter years before the Civil War, when party loyalty and sectional pride drowned out the voice of national brotherhood. In those days, patriotism was torn asunder by prejudice, and the result was four years of blood and fire. The serpent of faction had not been crushed, and the nation nearly perished. Bradley’s words, then, stand as both lament and warning: when party becomes greater than country, the bonds of unity are broken, and even the noblest ideals are drowned.

Yet, there are also moments when men have risen above party prejudice, proving Bradley’s hope that patriotism can indeed crush the serpent. Recall George Washington, who in his farewell address warned against the dangers of faction, pleading for unity above all else. Or think of Abraham Lincoln, who in the midst of war called for “malice toward none, with charity for all,” seeking to bind wounds rather than deepen divides. These leaders knew that true greatness lay not in feeding rancor, but in elevating the cause of the whole nation above the quarrels of the part.

The imagery of the serpent is powerful. For the serpent winds itself around the heart, constricting it slowly, until love of neighbor and loyalty to country are strangled. Bradley teaches that the only way to slay this serpent is through the genius of patriotism—a higher devotion, a nobler calling that reminds us that no party, no faction, no ideology can be greater than the people united as one. This is the battlefield not of swords, but of conscience; not of armies, but of the human heart.

The lesson for us is clear: beware of allowing party hatred to consume your love for your country. Let your disagreements be fierce, but let them never drown your loyalty to the greater whole. Remember that the republic is larger than your faction, that your fellow citizen is more than an opponent. If the serpent of rancor is not crushed, it will devour unity, and in its coils the nation itself may suffocate.

Practical actions follow from this wisdom. Debate with integrity, but do not let bitterness rule your speech. Defend your principles, but recognize the humanity of those who oppose you. Seek compromise where possible, and always place the good of the nation above the triumph of your party. Let your patriotism be proven not in shouting down rivals, but in lifting up the republic, even at the cost of personal victory.

So let Bradley’s words be carried like a standard into our own day: “Party rancor and party hatred are the last serpents which the genius of patriotism can crush.” Rise above the prejudice of faction, lest it drown the nobler voice of unity. For only when the serpent is slain can the flame of patriotism burn pure, lighting the way for generations yet to come.