- Temperance —Eat not to dullness; drink not to elevation.
- Silence —Speak not but what may benefit others or yourself; avoid trifling conversation.
- Order —Let all your things have their places; let each part of your business have its time.
- Resolution —Resolve to perform what you ought; perform without fail what you resolve.
- Frugality —Make no expense but to do good to others or yourself; i.e., waste nothing.
- Industry —Lose no time; be always employed in something useful; cut off all unnecessary actions.
- Sincerity —Use no hurtful deceit; think innocently and justly, and, if you speak, speak accordingly.
- Justice —Wrong none by doing injuries, or omitting the benefits that are your duty.
- Moderation —Avoid extremes; forbear resenting injuries so much as you think they deserve.
- Cleanliness —Tolerate no uncleanliness in body, clothes, or habitation.
- Tranquility —Be not disturbed at trifles, or at accidents common or unavoidable.
- Chastity —Rarely use venery but for health or offspring, never to dullness, weakness, or the injury of your own or another’s peace or reputation
- Humility —Imitate Jesus and Socrates.
Nothing more strangely indicates an enormous and silent evil of modern society that the extraordinary use which is made nowadays of the word “orthodox.” In former days the heretic was proud of not being a heretic. It was the kingdoms of the world and the police and the judges who were heretics. He was orthodox. He had no pride in having rebelled against them;t they had rebelled against him.
The word “heresy” not only means no longer being wrong; it practically means being clear-headed and courageous. The word “orthodoxy” not only no longer means being right; it practically means being wrong.
… people care less for whether they are philosophically right. For obviously a man ought to confess himself crazy before he confesses himself heretical. The Bohemian, with a red tie, ought to pique himself on his orthodoxy. The dynamiter, laying a bomb, ought to feel that, whatever else he is, at least he is orthodox.
We are more and more to discuss details in art, politics, literature. A man’s opinion on tramcars matters; his opinion on Botticelli matters; his opinion on all things does not matter. He may turn over and explore a million objects, but he must not find that strange object, the universe; for if he does he will have a religion, and be lost. Everything matters — except everything.
At any innocent tea-table we may easily hear a many say, “Life is not worth living.” We regard it as we regard the statement that it is a fine day; nobody things that it can possibly have any serious effect on the man or on the world. And yet if that utterance were really believed, the world would stand on its head. Murderers would be given medals for saying men from life; firemen would be denounced for keeping men from death; poisons would be used as medicines; doctors would be called in when people were well; the Royal Humane Society would be rooted out like a horde of assassins. Yet we never speculate as to whether the conversational pessimist will strengthen or disorganize society; for we are convinced that theories do not matter.
The modern idea is that cosmic truth is so unimportant that it cannot matter what any one says. The former freed inquiry as men loose a noble hound; the latter frees inquiry as men fling back into the sea a fish unfit for eating.
Emancipation has only locked the saint in the same tower of silence as the heresiarch.
In the fifteenth century men cross-examined an tormented a man because he preached some immoral attitude; in the nineteenth century we feted and flattered Oscar Wilde because he preached such an attitude, and then broke his heart in penal servitude because he carried it out. It may be a question which of the two methods was the more cruel; there can be no kind of question which was the more ludicrous.
The age of the inquisition has not at least the disgrace of having produced a society which made an idol of the very same man for preaching the very same things which it mad him a convict for practising.
And just as this repudiation of big words and big visions has brought forth a race of small men in politics, so it has brought forth a race of small men in the arts. Our modern politicians claim the colossal license of Caesar and the Superman, claim that they are too practical to be pure and too patriotic to be moral; but the upshot of it all is that a mediocrity is Chancellor of the Exchequer. Our new artistic philosophers call for the same moral license, for a freedom to wreck heaven and earth with they energy; but the upshot of it all is that a mediocrity is Poet Laureate. I do not say that there are no stronger men than these; but will any one say that there are any men stronger than those men of old who were dominated by their philosophy and steeped in their religion? Whether bondage be better that freedom may be discussed. But that their bondage came to more than our freedom it will be difficult for any one to deny.
Blasphemy is an artistic effect, because blasphemy depends upon a philosophical conviction. Blasphemy depends upon belief and is fading with it. If any one doubts this, let him sit down seriously and try to think blasphemous thoughts about Thor.