Can any one of the above mentioned classes — the flower of England's chivalry, her proudest peers and most distinguished commoners, her most virtuous and truth speaking ladies — can any of them speak the truth, I ask, whether at home, or in Society, during their public functions or in the family circle? What would you think of a gentleman, or a lady, whose affable politeness of manner and suavity of language would cover no falsehood; who, in meeting you would tell you plainly and abruptly what he thinks of you, or of anyone else? And where can you find that pearl of honest tradesmen or that god-fearing patriot, or politician, or a simple casual visitor of yours, but conceals his thoughts the whole while, and is obliged under the penalty of being regarded as a brute, a madman — to lie deliberately, and with a bold face, no sooner he is forced to tell you what he thinks of you; unless for a wonder his real feelings demand no concealment? All is lie, all falsehood, around and in us, my brother; and that is why you seem so surprised, if not affected, whenever you find a person who will tell you bluntly truth to your face; and also why it seems impossible for you to realize that a man may have no ill feelings against you, nay even like and respect you for some things, and yet tell you to your face what he honestly and sincerely thinks of you. In noticing M's opinion of yourself expressed in some of his letters — (you must not feel altogether so sure that because they are in his handwriting, they are written by him, though of course every word is sanctioned by him to serve certain ends) — you say he has "a peculiar mode of expressing himself to say the least."
Now, that "way" is simply the bare truth, which he is ready to write to yourself, or even say and repeat to your face, without the least concealment or change — (unless he has purposely allowed the expressions to be exaggerated for the same purposes as mentioned above); and he is — of all the men I know just the one to do it without the least hesitation! And for this, you call him "an imperious sort of chap very angry if he is opposed," but add, that you "bear him for it no malice, and like him none the less for that." NOW THIS IS NOT SO, my brother, and YOU KNOW IT. However, I am prepared to concede the definition in a limited sense, and to admit and repeat with you (and himself at my elbow) that he is a very imperious sort of chap, and certainly very apt sometimes to become angry, especially if he is opposed in what he knows to be right. Would you think more of him, were he to conceal his anger; to lie to himself and the outsiders, and so permit them to credit him with a virtue he has not? If it is a meritorious act to extirpate with the roots all feelings of anger, so as to never feel the slightest paroxysm of a passion we all consider sinful, it is a still greater sin with us to pretend that it is so extirpated. Please read over the "Elixir of Life" No. 2 (April, p. 169 col. 1, paras. 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6). And yet in the ideas of the West, everything is brought down to appearances even in religion. A confessor does not inquire of his penitent whether he felt anger, but whether he has shown anger to anyone. "Thou shalt in lying, stealing, killing, etc., avoid being detected" — seems to be the chief commandment of the Lord gods of civilization — Society and Public opinion. That is the sole reason why you, who belong to it, will hardly if ever be able to appreciate such characters as Morya's: a man as stern for himself, as severe for his own shortcomings, as he is indulgent for the defects of other people, not in words but in the innermost feelings of his heart; for, while ever ready to tell you to your face anything he may think of you, he yet was ever a stauncher friend to you than myself, who may often hesitate to hurt anyone's feelings, even in speaking the strictest truth. Thus, were M. one to ever descend to an explanation he could have told you: "My Brother, in my opinion you are intensely egotistical and haughty. In your appreciation and self-adulation you generally lose sight of the rest of mankind, and I verily believe that you regard the whole universe created for man, and that man — yourself. If I cannot bear to be opposed when I know I am right, you can bear contradiction still less, even when your conscience plainly tells you that you are wrong. You are unable to forget — though I admit that you are one to forgive — the smallest slight. And, sincerely believing yourself to have been so slighted, by me (sat upon — as you once expressed it) to this day the supposed offence exercises a silent influence over all your thoughts in connexion with my humble individual. And though your great intellect will ever prevent any vindictive feelings from asserting themselves and thus over-ruling your better nature, yet they are not without a certain influence even over your reasoning faculties, since you find pleasure (though you will hardly admit it to yourself) — in devising means to catch me tripping to the length of representing me in your imagination a fool, a credulous ignoramus capable of falling into the traps of a — Fern!