Now we had an amusing talk on conventions, in which Henry objected to full-dress suits, bouillon cups and polite lies. But I showed them how good and necessary were conventions properly used, since they saved us weighty discussions on trivial matters. I said it was a good thing we didn’t have to waste time and energy deciding what we would eat for breakfast each day. “But,” said Henry, “if some day I don’t care to eat oatmeal for breakfast, I don’t want to feel obliged.” “No,” I said; “don’t be a slave to convention.” I went on: “If all things were right, then conformity would be good—though uninteresting—but in this growing world we need reformers who smash and reform things, whenever conformity becomes deformity.” You notice that Alfred spoke more at this meeting. I had told him that if he did not help us along, and show what he meant and thought, he was not living up to our idea of completeness and work in unison. FOURTEENTH MEETING I read Henry’s paper: “A good man will bring those with whom he comes in contact into harmonious relations with himself. It is not enough to have a good heart. Many people are always meaning to do good, but never do it. It is the actions that count; for we said: ‘Art (good) is self-expression and self-fulfilment.’ “Many things which we call virtues are only substitutes for love and sympathy, which we are outgrowing. The principal ones are justice, honesty, conformity, obedience and pity. “Men have not perfect sympathy, but often do things at the expense of others. Therefore man, realizing his weakness, has made for himself a set of laws.” I objected to his use of the word “pity” along with the other substitutes. We had another short talk on the subject. Virginia said: “I would rather commit suicide than be pitied.” “Then,” I answered, “since we do not wish to be pitied, we could not, with perfect sympathy, do so unto others.” Virginia went on: “When a person who has some trouble or loss makes a great fuss over it, I must say I don’t think very well of him.” “We expect people to bear life bravely,” I said, “and to help them do it, to do it altogether. A man who is prevented from helping by his own pity is like a man who, when he saw another blind, put out his own eyes in sorrow, instead of leading the blind.” I said I wanted to speak of a subject that seemed especially to interest Virginia. I meant patriotism, but patriotism in a large and unusual sense. What were their ideas on this subject? Virginia implied that patriotism was not good, “because whenever you are patriotic for your own country, you have to be patriotic against other countries. You seem to be praising and helping your own at the expense of others.”