DEAR CHAMBERLAIN,--In writing to you, of course, I've not been writing a book--but simply setting down the thoughts and feelings of the moment as they come. I write a book exactly the same way; but all this has to be smoothed, ordinated, corrected, toned over twenty times before a page is ready. It strikes me, however, that the first raw emotion or fancy, which is the base of all, has its value between men who understand each other. You, on the other hand,--differently constituted,--write a letter as you would write a book. You collect and mould the thought instinctively and perhaps unconsciously before setting it on paper.
I'm not quite such an American radical as you think in consequence; for I confess to a belief in the value of aristocracies--a very strong belief. On the other hand, the reality of the thing to the man is its relation to him personally. Don't you think your comfort in all sorts and conditions may be due to your personal independence of those sorts and conditions? It is like Rufz's statement that "the first relations between men are delicious"--so long as you are in nobody's way, and have capacity to please, you have the bright side turned to you. (Again, there is this question: Are you sure the side you see and like is not the artificial side? I don't say it is, but there are possibilities.) My own dislike of mercantile people in all countries is based upon experiences of the contrary sort. But how can men, trained from childhood to watch for and to take all possible advantage of human weakness, remain a morally superior class. That they don't, needs no argument; and that the poorest people in all countries are the most moral and self-sacrificing needs no argument either. Both are acknowledged and indisputable facts in sociology,--in the study of civilized races, at least. When to this marrow-bred sense of morality is superadded the courtesy you yourself in a former letter declared without parallel, I see nothing extravagant in the statement that a Japanese _hyakush[=o]_ is more of a gentleman than an English merchant can be--if gentleness means delicate consideration for others, by means of which virtue no man can succeed in life.
I should like to know any story of heroism--sorry not to be near you to coax you for an outline of it. Every fact of goodness makes one better, and an author richer, to know it. There are good heroes and heroines in all walks of life, indeed,--though all walks of life do not necessarily lead to goodness. Indeed, there are some which teach that goodness is foolishness,--but all won't believe it is true.