(2) Don’t say you are not going to say a thing, and then say it.  This practice is very flourishing and successful with public speakers.  The trick consists of first repudiating a certain view in unfavourable terms, and then repeating the same view in favourable terms.  Perhaps the simplest form of it may be found in a landlord of my neighbourhood, who said to his tenants in an election speech, “Of course I’m not going to threaten you, but if this Budget passes the rents will go up.”  The thing can be done in many forms besides this.  “I am the last man to mention party politics; but when I see the Empire rent in pieces by irresponsible Radicals,” etc.  “In this hall we welcome all creeds.  We have no hostility against any honest belief; but only against that black priestcraft and superstition which can accept such a doctrine as,” etc.  “I would not say one word that could ruffle our relations with Germany.  But this I will say; that when I see ceaseless and unscrupulous armament,” etc.  “Please don’t do it.  Decide to make a remark or not to make a remark.  But don’t fancy that you have somehow softened the saying of a thing by having just promised not to say it.

(3) Don’t use secondary words as primary words.  “Happiness” (let us say) is a primary word.  You know when you have the thing, and you jolly well know when you haven’t.  “Progress” is a secondary word; it means the degree of one’s approach to happiness, or to some such solid ideal.  But modern controversies constantly turn on asking, “Does Happiness help Progress?” Thus, I see in the New Age this week a letter from Mr. Egerton Swann, in which he warns the world against me and my friend Mr. Belloc, on the ground that our democracy is “spasmodic” (whatever that means); while our “reactionism is settled and permanent.”  It never strikes Mr. Swann that democracy means something in itself; while “reactionism” means nothing—­except in connection with democracy.  You cannot react except from something.  If Mr. Swann thinks I have ever reacted from the doctrine that the people should rule, I wish he would give me the reference.

(4) Don’t say, “There is no true creed; for each creed believes itself right and the others wrong.”  Probably one of the creeds is right and the others are wrong.  Diversity does show that most of the views must be wrong.  It does not by the faintest logic show that they all must be wrong.  I suppose there is no subject on which opinions differ with more desperate sincerity than about which horse will win the Derby.  These are certainly solemn convictions; men risk ruin for them.  The man who puts his shirt on Potosi must believe in that animal, and each of the other men putting their last garments upon other quadrupeds must believe in them quite as sincerely.  They are all serious, and most of them are wrong.  But one of them is right.  One of the faiths is justified; one of the horses does win; not always even the dark horse