He was an honest man—he gave the rights he claimed. This was the foundation on which he built. To think for himself—to give his thought to others; this was to him not only a privilege, not only a right, but a duty.
He believed in self-preservation—in personal independence—that is to say, in manhood.
He preserved the realm of mind from the invasion of brute force, and protected the children of the brain from the Herod of authority.
He investigated for himself the questions, the problems and the mysteries of life. Majorities were nothing to him. No error could be old enough—popular, plausible or profitable enough—to bribe his judgment or to keep his conscience still.
He knew that, next to finding truth, the greatest joy is honest search.
He was a believer in intellectual hospitality, in the fair exchange of thought, in good mental manners, in the amenities of the soul, in the chivalry of discussion.
He insisted that those who speak should hear; that those who question should answer; that each should strive not for a victory over others, but for the discovery of truth, and that truth when found should be welcomed by every human soul.
He knew that truth has no fear of investigation—of being understood. He knew that truth loves the day—that its enemies are ignorance, prejudice, egotism, bigotry, hypocrisy, fear and darkness, and that intelligence, candor, honesty, love and light are its eternal friends.
He believed in the morality of the useful—that the virtues are the friends of man—the seeds of joy.
He knew that consequences determine the quality of actions, and "that whatsoever a man sows that shall he also reap."