every aspiring youth who sees some political or economical or ethical
truth quite clearly: "Keep it dark! Don't mention it! Nobody will listen
to you; and you, who are probably a person of superior insight and
higher moral aims than the mass, will only destroy your own influence
for good by premature declarations. The world will very likely come
round of itself to your views in the end; but if you tell them too soon,
you will suffer for it in person, and will very likely do nothing to
help on the revolution in thought that you contemplate. For thought that
is too abruptly ahead of the mass never influences humanity."

"But sometimes the truth will out in spite of one!" Ah, yes, that's the
worst of it. Do as I say, not as I do. If possible, repress it.

It is a noble and beautiful thing to be a martyr, especially if you are
a martyr in the cause of truth, and not, as is often the case, of some
debasing and degrading superstition. But nobody has a right to demand of
you that you should be a martyr. And some people have often a right to
demand that you should resolutely refuse the martyr's crown on the
ground that you have contracted prior obligations, inconsistent with the
purely personal luxury of martyrdom. 'Tis a luxury for a few. It befits
only the bachelor, the unattached, and the economically spareworthy.

"These be pessimistic pronouncements," you say. Well, no, not exactly.
For, after all, we must never shut our eyes to the actual; and in the
world as it is, meliorism, not optimism, is the true opposite of
pessimism. Optimist and pessimist are both alike in a sense, seeing they
are both conservative; they sit down contented--the first with the smug
contentment that says "All's well; I have enough; why this fuss about
others?" the second with the contentment of blank despair that says,
"All's hopeless; all's wrong; why try uselessly to mend it?" The