Probably they were not, any of them, paragons of virtue.

They did not walk in altogether speckless Sunday pumps, or much clear-starched into consciousness of the moral sublime; but in rugged practical boots, and by such roads as there were.
Concerning their moralities, and conformities to the Laws of the Road and of the Universe, there will much remain to be argued by pamphleteers and others.

Men will have their opinion, Men of more wisdom and of less; Apes by the Dead-Sea also will have theirs.

But what man that believed in such a Universe as that of this Dead-Sea Pamphleteer could consent to live in it at all?
Who that believed in such a Universe, and did not design to live like a Papin's-Digester, or PORCUS EPICURI, in an extremely ugly manner in it, could avoid one of two things: Going rapidly into Bedlam, or else blowing his brains out?
"It will not do for me at any rate, this infinite Dog-house; not for me, ye Dryasdusts, and omnipotent Dog-monsters and Mud-gods, whoever you are.

One honorable thing I can do: take leave of you and your Dog-establishment.