Hon­our­able speech sets a high stand­ard. An hon­our­able man speaks hon­our­ably – a man is his word, his speech… Speech of this kind is not merely a for­mula of cour­tesy, not merely a sub­ject­ive stance, but far more a mat­ter of elev­a­tion, a com­mit­ment to truth.

The three fun­da­ment­al domains of human life are deed, word and thought, that is, the work­ings of the body, the mouth and the head. Each is harder to dis­cip­line than the last. The dis­cip­line of the body is vir­tu­ous con­duct, the dis­cip­line of the mouth is hon­our­able speech, and the dis­cip­line of the head is pur­ity of thought.

Speech is one of man's del­ic­ate domains, for the word heals, but it also wounds. The ancient teach­ings declare that every word is a bear­er of holi­ness, and so speech, too, should be given the hon­our due to it. Empty chat­ter mars this ancient holi­ness as much as a lie does. Every­one can talk, but actu­ally say­ing some­thing – that is a mat­ter of aware­ness. Every­one likes to talk, fewer like to listen, and yet listen­ing to someone can also be a heal­ing pro­cess. What a good talk we had! should not mean that all the while you heard only your own voice.

Com­mu­nic­a­tion has its rules, which bring rights and, nat­ur­ally, oblig­a­tions at the same time. The basis of a com­munity that works well is open com­mu­nic­a­tion – no sub­ject is taboo, and any­thing may be dis­cussed. These are three rights, open to any­one will­ing to accept the three oblig­a­tions. They are the respect owed to the sub­ject and to the parties, the avoid­ance of quib­bling, and a read­i­ness to accept the answer. As soon as I prac­tise the oblig­a­tions, the rights come into effect.

The basis of hon­our­able speech is the respect owed to the sub­ject, to the one you are speak­ing with, to your listen­ers, and to your­self as well.

A mul­ti­tude had gathered at the prince's court to see justice done. To settle the dis­puted case, the parties were heard: a priest, a knight, a mer­chant and a vag­a­bond. The magis­trate called upon the priest:

– Speak! – and then they listened attent­ively to what he said. Second came the knight, whom the magis­trate addressed thus:

– Tell the truth! – and the knight set forth what he knew. Third came the mer­chant:

– It will profit you if you speak the truth! – the judge admon­ished him, and at last he addressed the vag­a­bond thus:

– If you do not tell the truth, you will be sorry!

The people fell to pon­der­ing, as did the ruler him­self, and he bade the magis­trate explain why he had called on each wit­ness to testi­fy in a dif­fer­ent way.

– A priest is a man of God, who always speaks accord­ing to divine truth, and what is more, whatever he says bene­fits every­one who hears him. He need only be asked to speak, and his words need only be heeded. The knight is of a war­like nature, and since he is also versed in dip­lomacy, where truth some­times goes into hid­ing, he must be called upon to tell the truth! He need only be reminded of vir­tue, and as a cham­pi­on of truth he will give a faith­ful account of events.

– What you say is true, but what of the mer­chant, and the vag­a­bond?

– Well, the mer­chant's highest ideal is gain, profit. For profit's sake he is ready to bend the truth, but also to tell it. If telling the truth brings him profit, he will do it, for at heart he is good-natured, though a little sly­ness is not for­eign to him either. Where­as the vag­a­bond stands almost out­side the norms of com­mon folk, and so he can be brought to tell the truth by a threat.

So much for the story. A man of dis­cip­lined speech holds fast to the truth, speaks kindly, without offend­ing oth­ers, and appeals to the sac­red truths. And who are you? A saintly priest, a war­like knight, a profit-minded mer­chant, or a vag­a­bond out­side soci­ety?