Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche - Human, All Too Human

Human, All Too Human Preface 1.Often enough, and always with great consternation, people have told me that there is something distinctive in all my writings, from The Birth of Tragedy to the most recently published Prelude to a Philosophy of the Future [subtitle of Beyond Good and Evil]. All of them, I have been told, contain snares and nets for careless birds, and an almost constant, unperceived challenge to reverse one's habitual estimations and esteemed habits. "What's that? Everything is only—human, all too human?" With such a sigh one comes from my writings, they say, with a kind of wariness and distrust even toward morality, indeed tempted and encouraged in no small way to become the spokesman for the worst things: might they perhaps be only the best slandered? My writings have been called a school for suspicion, even more for contempt, fortunately also for courage and, in fact, for daring. Truly, I myself do not believe that anyone has ever looked into the world with such deep suspicion, and not only as an occasional devil's advocate, but every bit as much, to speak theologically, as an enemy and challenger of God. Whoever guesses something of the consequences of any deep suspicion, something of the chills and fears stemming from isolation, to which every man burdened with an unconditional difference of viewpoint is condemned, this person will understand how often I tried to take shelter somewhere, to recover from myself, as if to forget myself entirely for a time (in some sort of reverence, or enmity, or scholarliness, or frivolity, or stupidity); and he will also understand why, when I could not find what I needed, I had to gain it by force artificially, to counterfeit it, or create it poetically. (And what have poets ever done otherwise? And why else do we have all the art in the world?) What I always needed most to cure and restore myself, however, was the belief that I was not the only one to be thus, to see thus—I needed the enchanting intuition of kinship and equality in the eye and in desire, repose in a trusted friendship; I needed a shared blindness, with no suspicion or question marks, a pleasure in foregrounds, surfaces, what is near, what is nearest, in everything that has color, skin, appearance. Perhaps one could accuse me in this regard of some sort of "art," various sorts of finer counterfeiting: for example, that I had deliberately and willfully closed my eyes to Schopenhauer's blind will to morality, at a time when I was already clear-sighted enough about morality; similarly, that I had deceived myself about Richard Wagner's incurable romanticism, as if it were a beginning and not an end; similarly, about the Greeks; similarly about the Germans and their future—and there might be a whole long list of such similarlies. But even if this all were true and I were accused of it with good reason, what do you know, what could you know about the amount of self-preserving cunning, or reason and higher protection that is contained in such self-deception—and how much falseness I still require so that I may keep permitting myself the luxury of my truthfulness?...Enough, I am still alive; and life has not been devised by morality: it wants deception, it lives on deception—but wouldn't you know it? Here I am, beginning again, doing what I have always done, the old immoralist and birdcatcher, I am speaking immorally, extra-morally, "beyond good and evil." 2. Thus then, when I found it necessary, I invented once upon a time the "free spirits," to whom this discouragingly encouraging book with the title Human, All Too Human, is dedicated. There are no such " free spirits" nor have there been such, but, as already said, I then required them for company to keep me cheerful in the midst of evils (sickness, loneliness, foreignness —acedia, inactivity) as brave companions and ghosts with whom I could laugh and gossip when so inclined and send to the devil when they became bores—as compensation for the lack of friends. That such free spirits will be possible some day, that our Europe will have such bold and cheerful sights amongst her sons of tomorrow and the day after tomorrow, actually and bodily, and not merely, as in my case, as the shadows of a hermit's phantasmagoria—I should be the last to doubt thereof. Already I see them coming, slowly; and perhaps I am doing something to hasten their coming when I describe in advance under what auspices I see them originate, and upon what paths I see them come. 3. One may conjecture that a spirit in whom the type "free spirit" will one day become ripe and sweet to the point of perfection has had its decisive experience in a great liberation and that previously it was all the more a fettered spirit and seemed to be chained forever to its pillar and corner. What fetters the fastest? What bonds are all but unbreakable? In the case of men of a high and select kind they will be their duties: that reverence proper to youth, that reserve and delicacy before all that is honored and revered from of old, that gratitude for the soul out of which they have grown, for the hand which led them, for the holy place where they learned to worship—their supreme moments themselves will fetter them the fastest, lay upon them the most enduring obligation. The great liberation comes from those who are thus fettered suddenly, like the shock of an earthquake: the youthful soul is all at once convulsed, torn loose, torn away—it itself does not know what is happening. A drive and impulse rules and masters it like a command; a will and desire awakens to go off, anywhere, at any cost; a vehement dangerous curiosity for an undiscovered world flames and flickers in all its senses. "Better to die than to go on living here"—thus resounds the imperious voice and temptation: and this "here," this "at home" is everything it had hitherto loved! A sudden terror and suspicion of what it loved, a lightning-bolt of contempt for what it called "duty," a rebellious, arbitrary, volcanically erupting desire for travel, strange places, estrangement, coldness, soberness, frost, a hatred for love, perhaps a desecrating blow and glance backwards to where it formerly loved and worshipped, perhaps a hot blush of shame at what it has just done and at the same time an exultation that it has done it, a drunken, inwardly exultant shudder which betrays that a victory has been won—a victory? over what? over whom? an enigmatic, question-packed, questionable victory, but the first victory nonetheless: such bad and painful things are part of the history of the great liberation. It is at the same time a sickness that can destroy the man who has it, this first outbreak of strength and will to self-determination, to evaluating on one's own account, this will to free will: and how much sickness is expressed in the wild experiments and singularities through which the liberated prisoner now seeks to demonstrate his mastery over things! He prowls cruelly around with an unslaked lasciviousness; what he captures has to expiate the perilous tension of his pride; what excites him he tears apart. With a wicked laugh he turns round whatever he finds veiled and through some sense of shame or other spared and pampered: he puts to the test what these things look like when they are reversed. It is a matter of arbitrariness with him, and pleasure in arbitrariness, if he now perhaps bestows his favor on what had hitherto a bad repute—if he inquisitively and temptingly haunts what is specially forbidden. Behind all his toiling and weaving—for he is restlessly and aimlessly on his way as if in a desert—stands the question mark of a more and more perilous curiosity. "Can all values not be turned round? and is good perhaps evil? and God only an invention and finesse of the Devil? Is everything perhaps in the last resort false? And if we are deceived, are we not for that very reason also deceivers? must we not be deceivers?—such thoughts as these tempt him and lead him on, ever further away, ever further down. Solitude encircles and embraces him, ever more threatening, suffocating, heart-tightening, that terrible goddess and mater saeva cupidinum ["wild mother of the passions"]—but who today knows what solitude is?... 4. From this morbid isolation, from the desert of these years of temptation and experiment, it is still a long road to that tremendous overflowing certainty and health which may not dispense even with sickness, as a means and fish-hook of knowledge, to that mature freedom of spirit which is equally self-mastery and discipline of the heart and permits access to many and contradictory modes of thought—to that inner spaciousness and indulgence of superabundance which excludes the danger that the spirit may even on its own road perhaps lose itself and become infatuated and remain seated intoxicated in some corner or other, to that superfluity of formative, curative, molding and restorative forces which is precisely the sign of great health, that superfluity which grants to the free spirit the dangerous privilege of living experimentally and of being allowed to offer itself to adventure: the master's privilege of the free spirit! In between there may lie long years of convalescence, years full of variegated, painfully magical transformations ruled and led along by a tenacious will to health which often ventures to clothe and disguise itself as health already achieved. There is a midway condition which a man of such a destiny will not be able to recall without emotion: it is characterized by a pale, subtle happiness of light and sunshine, a feeling of bird-like freedom, bird-like altitude, bird-like exuberance, and a third thing in which curiosity is united with a tender contempt. A "free spirit"—this cool expression does one good in every condition, it is almost warming. One lives no longer in the fetters of love and hatred, without yes, without no, near or far as one wishes, preferably slipping away, evading, fluttering off, gone again, again flying aloft; one is spoiled, as everyone is who has at some time seen a tremendous number of things beneath him—and one becomes the opposite of those who concern themselves with things which have nothing to do with them. Indeed, the free spirit henceforth has to do only with things—and how many things!—with which he is no longer concerned... 5. A step further in convalescence: and the free spirit again draws near to life—slowly, to be sure, almost reluctantly, almost mistrustfully. It again grows warmer around him, yellower, as it were; feeling and feeling for others acquire depth, warm breezes of all kinds blow across him. It seems to him as if his eyes are only now open to what is close at hand. He is astonished and sits silent: where had he been? These close and closest things: how changed they seemed! what bloom and magic they have acquired! He looks back gratefully—grateful to his wandering, to his hardness and self-alienation, to his viewing of far distances and birdlike flights in cold heights. What a good thing he had not always stayed "at home," stayed "under his own roof" like a delicate apathetic loafer! He had been beside himself: no doubt of that. Only now does he see himself—and what surprises he experiences as he does so! What unprecedented shudders! What happiness even in the weariness, the old sickness, the relapses of the convalescent! How he loves to sit sadly still, to spin out patience, to lie in the sun! Who understands as he does the happiness that comes in winter, the spots of sunlight on the wall! They are the most grateful animals in the world, also the most modest, these convalescents and lizards again half turned towards life:—there are some among them who allow no day to pass without hanging a little song of praise on the hem of its departing robe. And, speaking seriously, it is a radical cure for all pessimism (the well-known disease of old idealists and falsehood-mongers) to become ill after the manner of these free spirits, to remain ill a good It is wisdom. an immeasurably long order. as adventurers and circumnavigators of the inner world called "man. neediest. Granted that it is the problem of the gradations of rank. practical wisdom. distortion. most incipient and yet cannot avoid taking itself as the goal and measure of things and for the sake of its own preservation secretly and meanly and ceaselessly crumbling away and calling into question the higher. 7. an underus. narrowest. the rungs of which we ourselves have sat upon and mounted —which we ourselves at some time have been! Here a higher place. "so must it happen to everyone in whom a mission seeks to embody itself and to 'come into the world. and all the intellectual loss with which every every For and Against has to be paid for. You shall above all see with your own eyes where injustice is always at its greatest: where life has developed at its smallest. life itself as conditioned by the sense of perspective and its injustice. also the amount of stupidity which opposite values involve. Formerly they were your masters. You shall learn to grasp the sense of perspective in every value judgment—the shifting. and ends therewith. a lower place. and disguises the problem needed." as surveyors of all the "higher" and the "one-above-another. while he generalises his case. tests." he says to himself. and apparent teleology of the horizons and everything that belongs to perspective. a hierarchy which we see. under the sudden illumination of a still stressful. "As it has happened to me. but they must be only your instruments beside other instruments. and how we had first to experience the most manifold and opposing conditions of distress and happiness in soul and body. this suspiciousness. almost untouchable in his memory. You shall"—enough: from now on the free spirit knows what "you shall" he has obeyed. before it was permitted to rise before us.'" The secret power and necessity of this mission will operate in and upon the destined individuals like an unconscious pregnancy—long before they have had the mission itself in view and have known its name. richer— you shall see with your own eyes the problem of order of rank. we free spirits. injustice as inseparable from life. and he also knows what he now can. At that time it may finally happen that. 6. losing nothing. of which we may say that it is our problem. questionable. detours. even when we are not yet aware of it.while. "Here—a new problem! Here a long ladder. now only in the midday of our life do we first understand what preparations. Thus does the free spirit answer himself with regard to the riddle of emancipation. ever freer spirit begins to unveil the riddle of that great liberation which had until then waited dark. it is the future that makes laws for our today." also called "man"—penetrating everywhere. and. experiments. we free spirits. Our destiny rules over us.. You shall get control over your For and Against and learn how to display first one and then the other in accordance with your higher goal. almost without fear. master also over your virtues. sifting it out—until at last we could say. the free. If he has for long hardly dared to ask himself: "why so apart? so alone? renouncing everything I once reverenced? renouncing reverence itself? why this hardness. as it were. rejecting nothing. You shall learn to grasp the necessary injustice in every For and Against. "You shall become master over yourself. this hatred for your own virtues?"—now he dares to ask it aloud and hears in reply something like an answer. here—our problem!" . and then grow well (I mean "better ") for a still longer period. what only now he—may do. in order thus to decide with regard to his experience.. greater. tasting everything. and how power and right and spaciousness of perspective grow into the heights together. to prescribe even health for oneself for a long time only in small doses. still changeable health. cleansing everything from all that is accidental. 8. All we require. perhaps in Russia. The chemistry of concepts and sensations . for one who in this respect is un-German in disposition and constitution! This German book. except in the customary exaggeration of popular metaphysical interpretations. and what can be given us only now the individual sciences have attained their present level. of otium in the boldest sense of the term—purely good things. and that a mistake in reasoning lies at the bottom of this antithesis: according to this explanation there exists. Of First and Last Things 1. living for others in egoism. and indeed even when we are alone: what if this chemistry would end up by revealing that in this domain too the most glorious colors are derived from base. But where are these psychologists nowadays? In France." After such a polite answer my philosophy advises me to be silent and not to question further. besides. Spring 1886 I. assuredly not in Germany. indeed from despised materials? Will there be many who desire to pursue such researches? Mankind likes to put questions of origins and beginnings out of its mind: must one not be almost inhuman to detect in oneself a contrary inclination? Nietzsche . and worst listened to. disinterested contemplation in covetous desire." Historical philosophy. one only remains a philosopher by being—silent. Reasons are not lacking why the present-day Germans could still even count this as an honour to them—bad enough. logic in unlogic. religious and aesthetic conceptions and sensations. which can no longer be separated from natural science. of clearness of sky and heart. truth in error? Metaphysical philosophy has hitherto surmounted this difficulty by denying that the one originates in the other and assuming for the more highly valued thing a miraculous source in the very kernel and being of the "thing in itself. has discovered in individual cases (and this will probably be the result in every case) that there are no opposites. as the proverb points out. both are only sublimations. strictly speaking. in certain cases. certainly. the youngest of all philosophical methods. it needs superfluity—superfluity of time. for example rationality in irrationality." I have been told. which has been able to find readers in a wide circle of countries and nations—it has been about ten years going its rounds—and must understand some sort of music and piping art. it wants refined and fastidious senses. is a chemistry of the moral.— Almost all the problems of philosophy once again pose the same form of question as they did two thousand years ago: how can something originate in its opposite. surely. in which the basic element seems almost to have dispersed and reveals itself only under the most painstaking observation. likewise of all the agitations we experience within ourselves in cultural and social intercourse. on the other hand. "it appeals to men free from the pressure of coarse duties. neither an unegoistic action nor completely disinterested contemplation. which we Germans of today do not possess and therefore cannot give. what is the reason? "It demands too much. No psychologist or augur will be in doubt for a moment as to what stage of the development just described the following book belongs (or is assigned to). Friedrich Nice. the sentient in the dead. by means of which even coy foreign ears are seduced into listening—it is precisely in Germany that this book has been most negligently read. but only because it is unable to see how the realm of internal.— It is the mark of a higher culture to value the little unpretentious truths which have been discovered by means of rigorous method more highly than the errors handed down by metaphysical ages and men. or because men raised in that spirit have not yet been fully and inwardly permeated by it. long before the four thousand years we more or less know about. that the faculty of cognition has become. Lack of historical sense is the family failing of all philosophers. But everything has become: there are no eternal facts. while some of them. while the other truths are so beautiful. Consequently what is needed from now on is historical philosophizing. with their standard of beauty and sublimity. which blind us and make us happy. Previously. one has scorn on his lips for unpretentious truths. like someone who no longer really cares about the matter). but all mankind will be elevated to this manliness. perhaps. so the forms of our life become ever more spiritual—to the eye of older times uglier. They will not learn that man has become. even apparently discouraging. just as there are no absolute truths. while some of them would have it that the whole world is spun out of this faculty of cognition. that importance of symbols has become the sign of lower culture. will. enduring. certain. or even enrapturing. and shows bravery. so that they continue thoughtlessly to imitate old forms (and poorly. however. spiritual beauty is . as a sure measure of things. during these years mankind may well not have altered very much. splendid. but only because either their eye has not yet been opened to the charm of the simplest form. At first. sober. That has changed. as if they could offer no match for the others: they stand so modest. too. But the philosopher here sees "instincts" in man as he now is and assumes that these belong to the unalterable facts of mankind and to that extent could provide a key to the understanding of the world in general: the whole of teleology is constructed by speaking of the man of the last four millennia as of an eternal man towards whom all things in the world have had a natural relationship from the time he began. Now. They involuntarily think of "man" as an aeterna veritas [something everlastingly true]. such as has arisen under the impress of certain religions.— All philosophers have the common failing of starting out from man as he is now and thinking they can reach their goal through an analysis of him. Just as our very arts are becoming ever more intellectual and our senses more spiritual. at bottom no more than a testimony as to the man of a very limited period of time. when men finally grow accustomed to the greater esteem for durable. to keep to them is manly. lasting knowledge and have lost all belief in inspiration and a seemingly miraculous communication of truths. simplicity. its importance lay in spinning out symbols and forms. for example. Everything the philosopher has declared about man is. many. the mind was not obliged to think rigorously. not only the individual. without being aware of it. even certain political events. Estimation of unpretentious truths. The admirers of forms. Family failing of philosophers. that which is sensually pleasant to the ear is judged quite differently now than a hundred years ago. simple. But truths that are hard won. enchanting. 3. when esteem for unpretentious truths and the scientific spirit first comes to rule. everything essential in the development of mankind took place in primeval times. to be sure. as the fixed form from which one has to start out. restraint. and with it the virtue of modesty. even take the most recent manifestation of man.2. as something that remains constant in the midst of all flux. have good reason to mock at first. Eventually. and therefore still of consequence for all further knowledge are the higher. and as. For this reason. thus the origin of all beliefs in spirits and probably also of the belief in gods.— It is probable that the objects of religious. not in the whole . to be sure): what for? to what benefit? Because of this concern about benefit. 7. great sciences. however. every one is an optimist. Here we have the antagonism between individual scientific fields and philosophy. the general. Without the dream. at least. moral. . All philosophers are tyrannized by logic: and logic. The latter. which thinks the heavens revolve around the fate of man. Until now. he deceives himself. taken as a whole. The dissection into soul and body is also connected with the oldest idea of the dream. and shows the same pride as astrology. and to what extent a glance full of intelligence can mean more to all of us now than the most beautiful human body and the most sublime edifice. wishes to render the greatest possible depth and meaning to life and activity. The moral man. is optimism. Astrology and the like . Now. In the sciences. by thinking that knowledge must be accorded the highest usefulness. one would have had no occasion to divide the world into two. for they appear to the living in dreams": that was the conclusion one formerly drew.— The distinct. The troublemaker in science. by its nature. The scientific spirit is powerful in the part. there has been no philosopher in whose hands philosophy has not become an apology for knowledge. On the other hand. In this way. all philosophies have so much high-flying metaphysics and so much wariness of the seemingly insignificant explanations of physics. 4. smallest fields of science are treated purely objectively.— The man of the ages of barbarous primordial culture believed that in the dream he was getting to know a second real world: here is the origin of all metaphysics. 6. Misunderstanding of the dream. For the importance of knowledge for life ought to appear as great as possible. Because those things make him so deeply happy or unhappy. 5. although man likes to believe that here at least he is touching the heart of the world. one seeks knowledge and nothing more—whatever the consequences may be. men treat the sciences less impersonally as a whole than in their parts. likewise the postulation of a life of the soul [" Seelenscheinleib"]. like art.— Philosophy divorced itself from science when it inquired which knowledge of the world and life could help man to live most happily. presumes that that which is essential to his heart must also be the heart and essence of all things. "The dead live on. in philosophy—the top of the whole scientific pyramid—the question of the benefit of knowledge itself is posed automatically and each philosophy has the unconscious intention of ascribing to knowledge the greatest benefit. throughout many millennia. pose the question (a very unobjective question. 8. This occurred in the Socratic schools: out of a concern for happiness man tied off the veins of scientific investigation—and does so still today.continually deepening and expanding. and aesthetic sensibility likewise belong only to the surface of things. so it stands too in regard to nature—in fact much worse. not the best of all. not to speak of letting happiness. religion. while the question nonetheless remains what of the world would still be there if one had cut it off. all that has begotten these assumptions. a double meaning. but not to sniff out. With complete calm we will let physiology and the ontogeny of organisms and concepts determine how our image of the world can be so very different from the disclosed essence of the world. it would be a thing with negative qualities.— The significance of language for the evolution of culture lies in this. art. 10. and one still comes upon vestiges of allegorical and mystical interpretation in the best-educated society. he conceived rather that with words he was expressing .Pneumatic explanation of nature. have taught belief in them. and morality have been described.— For one could assert nothing at all of the metaphysical world except that it was a being-other." We are in the realm of idea.— It is true. that mankind set up in language a separate world beside the other world. a place it took to be so firmly set that. Metaphysical world. It takes a lot of intelligence to apply to nature the same kind of strict interpretive art that philologists today have created for all books: with the intention simply to understand what the scripture wants to say. the worst of all methods of acquiring knowledge. error and selfdeception. the absolute possibility of it is hardly to be disputed." For however the case may be.— Even if the existence of such a world were never so well demonstrated. 11. We behold all things through the human head and cannot cut off this head. This is a purely scientific problem and one not very well calculated to bother people overmuch. Language as putative science. delightful to them. then one no longer has as strong an interest in the purely theoretical problem of the "thing-in-itself" and "appearance. but all that has hitherto mad metaphysical assumptions valuable. Just as we have by no means overcome bad interpretive art in regard to books. To the extent that man has for long ages believed in the concepts and names of things as in aeternae veritates he has appropriated to himself that pride by which he raised himself above the animal: he really thought that in language he possessed knowledge of the world. standing upon it. art. it could lift the rest of the world off its hinges and make itself master of it. salvation and life depend on the gossamer of such a possibility. there could be a metaphysical world. The sculptor of language was not so modest as to believe that he was only giving things designations. so that one can explain them fully without resorting to the use of metaphysical intervention at the beginning and along the way. or even presume. and morality do not enable us to touch the "essence of the world in itself. but one can do absolutely nothing with it. When one has disclosed these methods as the foundation of all extant religions and metaphysical systems one has refuted them! Then that possibility still remains over. — Metaphysics explains nature's scriptures as if pneumatologically. 9. it is certain that knowledge of it would be the most useless of all knowledge: more useless even than knowledge of the chemical composition of water must be to the sailor in danger of shipwreck. the way the church and its scholars used to explain the Bible. no "intuition" can carry us further. terrible.— As soon as the origins of religion. is passion. The harmlessness of metaphysics in the future. the intestines turn. how. Thus. when awake and by day. because we harbor so much foolishness within. but it was the same arbitrariness and confusion with which the tribes composed their mythologies. but it is brought back to a state of imperfection. it continually mistakes things on the basis of the most superficial similarities. as does the different way the whole body is clothed after its daily change and variation.— Logic too depends on presuppositions with which nothing in the real world corresponds. as it might have been in everyone. cause a feeling of unusualness. Very much subsequently—only now—it dawns on men that in their belief in language they have propagated a tremendous error. and all this excites by its unusualness the whole system. we go through the work of earlier mankind once more. after he strains his memory briefly. is the searching for. their soles not pressing on the floor. the nervous system is constantly excited by manifold internal stimuli: almost all the organs secrete and are active. whole nations simultaneously. Arbitrary and confused as it is. Thus everybody knows from experience how quickly one blends a strong sound—e.e. it is the belief that the truth has been found out of which the mightiest sources of energy have flowed. and the imagining of. during mankind's primeval age.— When one sleeps. reminds us once again of the state of earlier mankind in which hallucinations were extraordinarily frequent. in our sleep and dreams. Happily. But all of us are like the savage when we dream. 13.. the supposed causes. The utter clarity of all dream-ideas.— Memory is that function of the brain which is most greatly impaired by sleep—not that it relaxes entirely. which presupposes an unconditional belief in their reality. am having"—thus judges the mind of the sleeper. the position of the sleeper. which would certainly not have come into existence if one had known from the beginning that there was in nature no exactly straight line. and sometimes seized whole communities.. For example. the placement of the head occasions unusual positions of the muscles. it is too late for the evolution of reason. his blankets. one may dream that two snakes are coiled around one's feet. What is thus inferred to have been the near past becomes the present through the excited imagination. too. accompanied by a pictorial idea and elaboration: "These snakes must be the cause of that feeling which I.g. i. the toiling . without shoes. no absolute magnitude.supreme knowledge of things. if one ties two straps around one's feet. no real circle. the first stage of the occupation with science. then a belief. This is at first a hypothesis. to be again put back. language is. in fact. including the brain functions. that the same thing is identical at different points of time: but this science came into existence through the opposite belief (that such conditions do obtain in the real world). Here. the feet. the causes for these excited feelings. 12. the blood circulates turbulently. The logic of the dream. It is the same with mathematics. we are frightened of ourselves. his mind begins to stagger about. Dream and culture. Thus there are a hundred occasions for the mind to be surprised and to search for reasons for this excitation: the dream. for example on the presupposition that there are identical things. influence his feelings variously. and he produces lies and nonsense simply because he is weary. Faulty recognitions and mistaken equations are the basis of the poor conclusions which we are guilty of making in dreams. and even now travelers regularly observe how greatly the savage inclines to forgetfulness. however. the stomach digests and disturbs other organs with its movements. which depends on this belief. the sleeper. so that when we recollect a dream clearly. they seem to stir up memory. the imagination keeps pushing images upon the mind. We can infer from these processes. and skeptical about hypotheses? Why does he think the first best hypothesis that explains a feeling is enough to believe in it at once? (For when dreaming. best idea. i. and can help us to understand it. landscapes. the brain produces a multitude of impressions of light and colors. 14. in every human: dreams take us back again to distant conditions of human culture and put a means at our disposal for understanding them better. the actual process is a kind of conclusion from the effect to the cause. Now. mankind inferred for many thousands of years also when awake. (According to the tales of travelers. in such a way that he supposes that he experiences first the causal circumstances and then this sound. probably as a kind of postlude and echo to all those effects of light which penetrate it by day. attributes his moods and states to causes that are in no way the true ones. our reason (in league with imagination) immediately works these plays of color. forms. with eyes open. developed. Something in us remembers and becomes aware of similar states and their origin. The poet. All this with an extraordinary speed. our functions of reason and intelligence reach back instinctively to those primitive forms of deductions. how late a more acute logical thinking.) This old aspect of humanity lives on in us in our dreams. for it is the basis upon which higher reason developed. to this extent he reminds us of an older mankind. and is still developing. it assumes those figures and shapes to be the cause. That is.— All intense moods bring with them a resonance of related feelings and moods. as with a conjurer.. the first causa that occurred to the mind to explain anything that required explanation sufficed and was considered the truth.) I suppose: as man even now infers in dreams. and a sequence can appear to be a synchronism. They seem to be the occasion of those colors and lights. are eventually no longer felt as . a rigorous application of cause and effect. formless in themselves.of bells or cannon shots—into his dream. we have been so well drilled in just this form of fantastic and cheap explanation from the first. Thus habitual.e. Once again. or even a reversed sequence. rapid associations of feelings and thoughts are formed. which. Resonance. savages proceed this way even today. as the mind inquires about the origin of these light impressions and colors. how he explains them ex post facto through his dream. we believe in the dream as if it were reality. too. If we close our eyes. careful. and we live more or less half our lives in this state. using in their production the visual impressions of the day—and this is precisely what dream imagination does. so that. then. when they follow with lightning speed upon one another. during mankind's immense periods of development. we take our hypothesis for fully proven. judgment becomes confused. A related occurrence when we are awake can be viewed as a virtual gate and antechamber to the dream. while the same mind awake tends to be so sober. In this way dreaming is recuperation for a brain which must satisfy by day the stricter demands made on thought by higher culture. Dream-thought is so easy for us now because. moving groups. because the mind is used to finding an occasioning cause for every color and every light impression it receives by day. the supposed cause is deduced from the effect and imagined after the effect. But how is it that the mind of the dreamer always errs so greatly. that is. however. into definite figures. Here. even now. the artist. the unity of the word does not guarantee the unity of the thing. passion or fear.— Philosophers are accustomed to place themselves before life and experience—before that which they call the world of appearance—as if before a painting that has been unrolled once and for all and unchangingly displays almost the same event: this event. where they have no meaning. they think. very uncanny character of the world. our inherited idea of the world. is indeed still fully in process of becoming. as to the thing-in-itself. very late. A feeling is deep because we hold the accompanying thought to be deep. one speaks of moral feelings. If one subtracts the added elements of thought from the deep feeling. On the other hand. on the other hand. consequently also the unconditioning. approaches the heart of nature. overlook the possibility that this painting—that which we men call life and experience—has gradually become. As is so often the case. . does the intellect stop to think: and now the world of experience and the thing-in-itself seem so extraordinarily different and separate that it rejects any conclusion about the latter from the former. what remains is intense feeling. looked upon it with blind desire. But these feelings are deep only to the extent that they regularly stimulate. In this sense. religious feelings. denied any connection between the unconditioned (the metaphysical world) and the world known to us: so that what appears in appearance is precisely not the thing-in-itself. soulful. and abandoned ourselves to the bad habits of illogical thinking. certain complicated groups of thoughts. 16. which we call deep.— Just as Democritus applied the concepts of above and below to infinite space. which guarantees nothing at all about knowledge except itself. every metaphysical thought. have attacked the essence of things for causing this real. it has acquired color—but we have been the colorists: it is the human intellect that has made appearances appear and transported its erroneous basic conceptions into things. after they had strictly established the concept of the metaphysical as that of the unconditioned. frightful. Because we have for millennia made moral. and any conclusion from the former to the latter is to be rejected. Only late. which is seen as the sufficient reason for the world of appearance. spun out of intellectual errors) and. instead of accusing the intellect. so philosophers in general apply the concept "inside and outside" to the essence and appearance of the world. this world has gradually become so marvelously variegated. it demands the abandonment of our intellect. 15. in truth they are rivers with a hundred sources and tributaries. and should thus not be regarded as a fixed magnitude from which one might draw a conclusion as to the originator (the sufficient reason) or even reject such a conclusion. mysterious way. religious demands on the world. Appearance and thing-in-itself. however. or else. other people have gathered together all characteristic traits of our world of appearances (that is. in an awful. just as strong belief proves only its own strength. of our personal will in order to come to the essential by becoming essential.complexes. meaningful. More rigorous logicians. as if they were all unities. not the truth of what is believed. as is. No inside and outside in the world. almost imperceptibly. and have preached salvation from being. must be interpreted correctly in order to draw a conclusion as to the being which produced the painting: that is to say. aesthetic. but rather as unities. for example. Both parties. But the deep thought can nevertheless be very far from the truth. They think that with deep feelings man penetrates deep into the inside. as an object identical with itself. that is. To feel less responsible. in short. in that it is unable to break significantly the power of ancient habits of feeling. All belief is based on the feeling of pleasure or pain in relation to the feeling subject. that is to say empty of meaning. If he is dissatisfied with himself. have become entwined with one another and are now inherited by us as the accumulated treasure of the entire past—as a treasure: for the value of our humanity depends on it. all things are normally quiet.The steady and arduous progress of science. and at the same time to find things more interesting: that is the twofold benefit which he owes to metaphysics. will deal decisively with all these views. which will ultimately celebrate its greatest triumph in an ontogeny of thought. Metaphysical explanations. the first belief of all organic beings may be that the whole rest of the world is One and unmoved. other than in its relationship to us with regard to pleasure and pain. whose essence consists. but each one with One attribute. Basic questions of metaphysics. 17. Then we find the world and every thing in it without interest. of non-sensation. The first stage of logic is judgment. eternal. To a plant. Later. different substances are gradually distinguished. Its conclusion might perhaps end up with this tenet: That which we now call the world is the result of a host of errors and fantasies which have gradually arisen in the course of the total evolution of organic nature. too. the following sentence by an excellent logician will be seen in a new light: "The original general law of the knowing subject consists in the inner necessity of knowing each object in itself. which is here called "original. 18. From the beginning. and that his interest in life and its problems is kindled perhaps even more thereby. . the states of sensation) lie those states of quiet. Rigorous science is in fact able to detach us from this ideational world only to a slight extent (something we by no means desire)." also evolved. Perhaps we then recognize that the thing-in-itself is worthy of Homeric laughter: it appeared to be so much.— A young person appreciates metaphysical explanations because they show him something highly meaningful in matters he found unpleasant or despicable. A new. of course. he understands that physical and historical explanations bring about at least as much that feeling of irresponsibility. each thing identical to itself. But it can gradually and step by step illuminate the history of how this world as idea arose—and raise us above the whole thing at least for moments at a time. his feeling is relieved if he can recognize in that which he so disapproves of in himself the innermost riddle of the world or its misery. Initially." This law. Some day the gradual origin of this tendency in lower organisms will be shown. we notice no change in it (just as even now. self-existing and fundamentally always the same and unchangeable. in its own being. as a substance. a person who is intensely interested in something will not notice that someone is passing by him). that is.e. when the various stimuli of pleasure and unpleasure become more noticeable. with one single relationship to such an organism. indeed everything. in belief. and is actually empty. third feeling as the result of two preceding feelings is judgment in its lowest form. how then. then perhaps he understands that those same effects are to be obtained just as well and more scientifically in another way.. how the dull mole's eyes of these organizations at first see everything as identical. as the best logicians have determined.— Once the ontogeny of thought is written. Between those moments in which we become aware of this relationship (i. From the period of low organisms. we organic beings have no interest in a thing. man has inherited the belief that there are identical things (only experience which has been educated by the highest science contradicts this tenet). he comes to distrust the whole method of metaphysical explanation. The assumption of multiplicity always presumes that there is something. for example. There we still feel ourselves forced to assume a "thing" or a material "substratum" that is moved. and has stopped talking about the soul's salvation." this is wholly true in respect to the concept of nature which we are obliged to attach to nature (nature = world as idea. Number. but which is the summation of a host of errors of the understanding. one may characterize it as that science which deals with the basic errors of man—but as if they were basic truths. has been reached when man gets beyond superstitious and religious concepts and fears and.In that first stage of logic. Once he is at this level of liberation. A few rungs down. we believe fundamentally that all feelings and actions are acts of free will. Thus the belief in freedom of the will is an initial error of all organic beings. it isolates itself and takes itself to be arbitrary. the thought of causality is furthest removed. itself a very high one. When Kant says "the understanding does not draw its laws from nature. To a world that is not our idea. Whenever we establish something scientifically. 19. as error).— The laws of numbers were invented on the basis of the initially prevailing error that there are various identical things (but actually there is nothing identical) or at least that there are things (but there is no "thing"). our feeling distinguishes that which is moving from that which is moved. but because these quantities are at least constant (as is. a retrograde movement is necessary: he must understand both the historical and the psychological justification in metaphysical ideas. come into contradiction with the results. to be something isolated. 20. Belief in unconditioned substances and identical things is likewise an old. in atomic theory. that is. that feeling seems to assert itself without reason or purpose. where the mistaken basic assumptions. It rises up out of us. that do not exist. One can continue to build upon them-up to that final analysis. Here. Even now. without a context. Rather. they lead to logical contradictions. even here. original error of all that is organic. we invent entities. We are hungry. each change. unities. with no connection to anything earlier or later. as old as the existence in them of stirrings of logic. Then. however. Our feelings of space and time are false. But this is just where error rules. but do not think initially that the organism wants to be kept alive. no longer believes in the heavenly angels or original sin. too. the results of science do acquire a perfect strictness and certainty in their relationship to each other. our feeling of time and space). for example. because the belief in things has been tied up with our essential nature from time immemorial. he takes each feeling. He . something unconditioned. it prescribes them to nature. however. the laws of numbers are wholly inapplicable: these are valid only in the human world. for example. he must still make a last intense effort to overcome metaphysics. when the feeling individual considers himself. that is. and we do not come out of this circle. those constant errors. which occurs repeatedly. we are inevitably always reckoning with some incorrect quantities.— One level of education. for if they are tested rigorously. To the extent that all metaphysics has dealt primarily with substance and freedom of the will. while the entire scientific procedure has pursued the task of dissolving everything thing-like (material) into movements. With regard to philosophical metaphysics. too. Nevertheless. can in time become so large (in the dietetics of health. it is work on the eternal salvation of his soul. but not want to stand on it.— Let us accept for the moment the skeptical starting point: assuming there were no other. trees that are destined to overshade long successions of generations. For one should look out over the last rung of the ladder. for example. for even the span of his own life. 22. For metaphysical views lead one to believe that they offer the conclusive foundation upon which all future generations are henceforth obliged to settle and build. The historical question about mankind's unmetaphysical views remains the same in either case. once and for all. how would we then look upon men and things? One can imagine this. even if one were to reject the question of whether Kant and Schopenhauer proved anything metaphysical scientifically." ["A memorial lasting longer than bronze (Horace). one would rob himself of mankind's finest accomplishments to date. it is useful to do so. he thinks it will be credited to him and repaid in his soul's eternal afterlife. So one must ask the question: how will human society take shape under the influence of such an attitude? Perhaps the scientific proof of any metaphysical world is itself so difficult that mankind can no longer keep from distrusting it. as in the hippodrome. it is necessary to take a turn at the end of the track. Presumed triumph of skepticism. the individual runs through too many inner and outer evolutions himself to dare to set himself up permanently. Disbelief in the "monumentum aere perennius. designed for the ages. but only a few who climb back down a few rungs. for example). 21. that one can decide on that basis to found "eternal" works. metaphysical world and that we could not use any metaphysical explanations of the only world known to us. Those who are most enlightened can go only as far as to free themselves of metaphysics and look back on it with superiority. or a monastery. And if one is distrustful of metaphysics.must recognize how mankind's greatest advancement came from them and how. the same consequences as if metaphysics had been directly refuted and one were no longer permitted to believe in it. if one did not take this retrograde step. In the meanwhile. its truest allies must be doubt and distrust. awaken such a belief in its results? To be sure. He wants to pick the fruit from the tree he has planted himself. generally speaking. because the two ages are still too close to each other. When a wholly modern man intends. which outlast all storms of skepticism and all disintegration. . while here. The individual is furthering his salvation when he endows a church. then we have."] — One crucial disadvantage about the end of metaphysical views is that the individual looks his own short life span too squarely in the eye and feels no strong incentives to build on enduring institutions. Can science. to build a house. and therefore no longer likes to plant those trees which require regular care over centuries. the sum of indisputable truths. I now see a number of people who have arrived at the negative goal (that all positive metaphysics is an error). For according to historical probability. he has a feeling as if he were walling himself up alive in a mausoleum. the contrast between our excited ephemeral existence and the long-winded quiet of metaphysical ages is still too strong. for example. it is quite likely that men at some time will become skeptical about this whole subject. with gratitude. Even if romantic fantasizing still uses the word "progress" about its goals (e. led an unconscious animal-and-vegetable life.— The less men are bound by their tradition. we will conceive the task that this age sets us to be as great as possible. upbringing.— When a scholar of the old culture vows no longer to have anything to do with men who believe in progress. a selection is now taking place among the forms and habits of higher morality.. their nourishment. which was not possible earlier.23. it also kills the distrust of progress: progress is possible. customs. is not even conceivable. conscious culture kills the old culture. they can administer the earth as a whole economically. This is the age of comparisons! That is its pride—but also by rights its sorrow. man has to set himself ecumenical goals embracing the whole earth.g. cultures are compared and experienced next to one another. Who today still feels a serious obligation to bind himself and his descendants to one place? Who feels that anything is seriously binding? Just as all artistic styles of the arts are imitated one next to the other. the external unrest. as well as the culture of comparison. the greater. The new. one against the other. Possibility of progress. Private and public morality. It will let most of them (namely all those that it rejects) die out. is leading mankind gloriously upward. customs. presupposing that universal harmony must result of itself . But men can consciously decide to develop themselves forward to a new culture. To deny this requires an intolerable obtuseness or an equally insufferable enthusiasm. Now they can create better conditions for the generation of men. that is. original folk cultures) it is in any event borrowing that image from the past: its thinking and imagining in this area lack all originality. completed. Such an age gets its meaning because in it the various world views. can weigh the strengths of men. demanded of the individual actions which one desired of all men: that was a very naive thing. and by means of it. all the apparent twists and turns in its path notwithstanding. 25. For the old culture has its greatness and goodness behind it. the whirling flow of men. Let us not be afraid of this sorrow! Instead. Age of comparisons. 24. and an historical education forces one to admit that it can never again be fresh. instruction. namely Kant's. progress in the sense of the old culture. when there was always a localized rule for each culture. it is a theory like that of free trade. seen as a whole. Now. accordingly.— Since belief has ceased that a God broadly directs the destinies of the world and that. so too are all stages and kinds of morality. but how could one deny that it is possible? Conversely. and employ them. but that looks back on both kinds of culture as on venerable antiquities. Similarly. what actions at all are desirable. whose goal can be none other than the downfall of baser moralities. I mean to say. the greater the internal stirring of motives. cultures. he is right. the polyphony of strivings. as if everyone knew without further ado what mode of action would benefit the whole of mankind. Then posterity will bless us for it—a posterity that knows it has transcended both the completed original folk cultures. which. The former morality. whereas formerly they developed unconsciously and by chance. it is premature and almost nonsensical to believe that progress must of necessity come about. just as all artistic styles were bound to place and time. man's increased aesthetic feeling will decide definitively from among the many forms which offer themselves for comparison. Herein lies the tremendous task facing the great spirits of the coming century. despite the defeat. It is preferable to use art for this transition. powerful forms of contemplating the world and men.in accordance with innate laws of progress. Perhaps some future survey of the requirements of mankind will show that it is absolutely not desirable that all men should act in the same way. Out of reaction. well-known "metaphysical need. the whole Renaissance appears like an early spring.— One thinks he is speaking well of philosophy when he presents it as a substitute religion for the people. but obliteration. long since achieved. For example. but what rules it is not science but rather the old. Science could not yet raise her head. for easing a heart overburdened with feelings. In spiritual economy. Only after this great triumph of justice. only after we have corrected in such an essential point the historical way of thinking that the Enlightenment brought with it. those conjurers would be opposed more effectively. I believe that without Schopenhauer's aid. Substitute for religion. 26. violent. we have taken a step forward. History and justice benefit greatly. to attempt to do so based on the Christianity still existing today is impossible. But in our century. Beginning with art. the banner with the three names: Petrarch. if mankind is not to destroy itself through such conscious universal rule. otherwise. juvenescent. Consider. based on assumptions that contradict those of science. no one today could so easily do justice to Christianity and its Asian cousins. for they are acquired needs. dangerous leap. in Schopenhauer's teaching the whole medieval Christian worldview and feeling of man could again celebrate a resurrection. which almost gets snowed away. for the transition from religion to scientific contemplation is a violent. not satisfaction." Certainly one of the greatest and quite inestimable benefits we gain from Schopenhauer is that he forces our feeling for a time back to older. it is right to recommend philosophy. but rather that in the interest of ecumenical goals whole tracts of mankind ought to have special. something inadvisable. temporally limited. . 27. Thus.— In any event. Erasmus. for example. Voltaire. transitional spheres of thought are indeed necessary occasionally. may we once again carry onward the banner of the Enlightenment. too. it must first of all attain to a hitherto altogether unprecedented knowledge of the preconditions of culture as a scientific standard for ecumenical goals. who are nevertheless backward. To that extent. that Christian distress of mind that comes from sighing over one's inner depravity and care for one's salvation—all concepts originating in nothing but errors of reason and deserving. A philosophy can be useful either by satisfying those needs or by eliminating them. of all Christian dogmas. Schopenhauer's metaphysics proved that the scientific spirit is still not strong enough. Luther's Reformation proves that in his century all the impulses of freedom of the spirit were still uncertain. they conjure up once again a past phase of mankind.— Sometimes there appear rough. Reaction as progress. Indeed. to which other paths could not so readily lead us. But in the end one also has to understand that the needs that religion has satisfied and philosophy is now supposed to satisfy are not immutable. His teaching is infused with much science. delicate. perhaps under certain circumstances even evil tasks imposed upon them. They serve as proof that the new tendencies which they are opposing are still not strong enough. that something is lacking there. one can more easily move on to a truly liberating philosophical science. they can be weakened and exterminated. and impetuous spirits. those ideas are entertained much less by art than by a metaphysical philosophy. These are. and that these concepts "good" and "evil" make sense only in reference to men. inventive as to bring forth such blossoms as religions and arts. Here one is attributing to the effect the predicate "gladdening.— The ship of mankind.— Away with those tedious. but the world as idea (as error) that is so rich in meaning. who comes to know all too well the error of this sort of deduction and has to suffer from its consequences. by the way. This he does indeed through science. the higher he esteems himself. if an opinion tortures and agitates. it is thought. . It is not the world as a thing-in-itself. but by no means nearer to the root of the world than is its stem. Perhaps even there. let alone the best or the worst. it must be true. only babblers still cannot do without them. but he thinks he does it more through his religions and arts. The free spirit. which. which are in general naturally just as false: if a thing cannot prevail." Every day there is less and less cause to use them. if its effect is good. it must be true. Error has made man so deep. given that he himself is goodness and perfection? What thinking person still needs the hypothesis of a god? Nor is there cause for a pessimistic confession. This conclusion leads to a philosophy of the logical denial of the world. worn-out words "optimism" and "pessimism. pregnant with happiness and unhappiness. 29. wonderful. deep. a flower of civilization." "good. if an opinion makes us glad." but now in the sense of the logically valid. and energetically asserting the opposite claim. Furthermore. as they are generally used. has an ever greater draft. For why in the world should anyone want to be an optimist if he does not have to defend a God who must have created the best of all possible worlds. it is self-evident that the world is not good and not evil. therefore it is legitimate. that the world is a botched job." in the sense of the useful. that unpleasure is greater than pleasure. The reversal of the proposition is: if a thing cannot prevail and maintain itself. Bad habits in making conclusions. although nearly everyone is of that opinion. can be combined just as well with a practical affirmation of the world as with its opposite. the nearer he will come to the true essence of the world and knowledge of it. if one does not have an interest in irritating the advocates of God. 30. the theologians or the theologizing philosophers. the more delicate his feelings. Here one is concluding functionality from viability. it must be wrong. Intoxicated by the blossoms' fragrance. they are not justified: we must in every case dispense with both the reviling and the glorifying view of the world. But who worries about theologians these days (except the theologians)? All theology and its opposition aside. often succumbs to the temptation of making contrary deductions. it in itself must be good and true. Pure knowledge would have been incapable of it. and providing the cause with the same predicate "good. if an opinion troubles and disturbs. the farther his distance from the other animals (the more he appears as the genius among animals). delicate.— The most common false conclusions of men are these: a thing exists. Whoever revealed to us the essence of the world would disappoint us all most unpleasantly.28. the more it is laden. it is believed that the deeper man thinks. it must be good. namely that evil reigns. One does not understand the essence of things through art and religion. and legitimacy from functionality. the manifestation of an evil will to life. Disreputable words. it must be false. to be sure. in art.— Every belief in the value and worth of life is based on impure thinking and is only possible because the individual's sympathy for life in general. then one may believe in the value of life—for one is overlooking other men. is very weakly developed. Only the very naive are capable of thinking that the nature of man can be transformed into a purely logical one. that is. The illogical necessary. how much would not have to vanish along this path! Even the most rational man needs nature again from time to time. but precisely because everyone wills himself alone and stands his ground alone. is no unchangeable quantity. The impurity of the judgment lies first in the way the material is present (that is very incompletely). No experience of a man. our own nature. and this we can know: it is one of the greatest and most insoluble disharmonies of existence. Man cannot experience a drive to or away from something without the feeling that he is desiring what is beneficial and avoiding what is harmful. in religion. on the great talents and pure souls. and believe to this extent in the value of life—in this case. Perhaps it will follow from all this that one ought not to judge at all. Most men tolerate life without grumbling too much and believe thus in the value of existence. and third. such a stance makes one an exception among men. but rather on limited parts of it. If one knows how to keep his attention primarily on exceptions. which is to say. the less egoistical type. then too one can hope something about mankind as a whole. in the way it is assessed. Thus the value of life for ordinary. through impurity of thought. and must be so. from impure knowledge. if there were degrees of approximation to this goal. But whichever is the case. The great lack of fantasy from which he suffers keeps him from being able to empathize with other beings. as valid and excuses mankind in respect to its other drives. as is absolutely necessary. the gauge by which we measure. or seems at the most a faint shadow. and he therefore participates in . if only one could live without evaluating. but takes only one type of drive. We are from the start illogical and therefore unfair beings. just as does all inclination. but. 32. and generally in everything which endows life with value. It is so firmly lodged in the passions. in speech. yet we would have to know ourselves to be a fixed gauge if we were to evaluate fairly the relationship of any one thing to ourselves. that one cannot extricate it without doing irreparable harm to these beautiful things. second.— All judgments about the value of life have developed illogically and therefore unfairly. if one does focus on all men. Even uncommon men who think beyond themselves at all do not focus on life in general. too. however close he is to us. for example. All evaluations are premature. 33. everyday man is based only on his taking himself to be more important than the world. in the fact that every separate part of the material again results. we have moods and vacillations. And likewise. everything extrapersonal escapes his notice entirely. Error about life necessary for life. if one takes their coming into existence to be the goal of all world evolution and rejoices in their activity. Unfairness necessary. without evaluating knowingly the merit of the goal. his illogical basic attitude to all things. and does not step out of himself as do those exceptional men.31. thinking impurely. Finally. and for the suffering of mankind. can be so complete that we would have a logical right to evaluate him in toto. that is.— Among the things that can drive a thinker to despair is the knowledge that the illogical is necessary for man and that much good comes from it. without having disinclinations and inclinations! For all disinclination depends upon an evaluation. whether death would not be preferable? For there is no "ought" anymore. as I said. have to do with errors (to the extent that inclination and disinclination. and yet not want to be uttered: whether one is capable of consciously remaining in untruth. which is. Some reassurance. and perhaps he has nothing else to communicate. He. every bit as much as religion. if he were able to grasp and feel mankind's overall consciousness in himself. if one had to do so. more free of affects than the present one. He must be content with that free. which is for him the most desirable of states. a man from whom the ordinary chains of life have fallen in such measure that he continues to live on only to better his knowledge must be able to renounce without envy and chagrin much. considering the whole affair. But who is capable of it? Certainly only a poet—and poets always know how to comfort themselves. that other men value. But if one nevertheless wants more from him. All human life is sunk deep in untruth. mild. benefit and harm. but rather his despair. I could just as well imagine a different one. as we see the single blossom squandered by nature. Rather. as we have said. customs. such a disposition would not need to be on guard for tricks and sudden explosions. without praise. as whole. although the aftereffect described above is possible in some natures. which would give rise to a life much more simple. one renunciation. as motives. one self-denial the more. reproaches. he considers the ultimate aimlessness of men. and without opposing scorn and disdain to the passions that urge one on to the future and to the happiness in it. with despair as a personal end and a philosophy of destruction as a theoretical end? I believe that a man's temperament determines the aftereffect of knowledge. essentially determine. too. and their very unfair measurements. who would be truly able to participate in it would have to despair about the value of life. man cannot find his comfort and support in it. but they would gradually grow weaker under the influence of cleansing knowledge. Knowledge can allow only pleasure and unpleasure. or that one was more than nature. indeed almost everything. fearless hovering over men. But to feel squandered as mankind (and not just as an individual). our pleasure and unpleasure). Morality to the extent that it was an "ought" has been destroyed by our way of reflection. in everything he does. an enemy of what is better? A question seems to weigh down our tongues. his own activity acquires the character of squandering in his eyes. with a benevolent shake of the head he will indicate . overzealousness. inherited habit. Finally one would live among men and with oneself as in nature. If. 34. or. is there only one way of thought left. If this is true. and basically cheerful soul. a good temperament would be necessary—a secure. on the other hand. One would be free of appearance and would no longer feel the goading thought that one was not simply nature. delighting in many things as in a spectacle that one formerly had only to fear. laws and the traditional evaluations of things. he would collapse with a curse against existence—for mankind. But how will these motives come to terms with the feeling for truth? These motives. He is glad to communicate his joy in this state. The old motives of intense desire would still be strong at first. to be sure. is a feeling above all feelings. the individual cannot pull it out of this well without growing profoundly annoyed with his entire past.— But does not our philosophy then turn into tragedy? Does not truth become an enemy of life. due to old. without finding his present motives (like honor) senseless. has no goal and consequently.their vicissitudes and suffering as little as possible. Of course. and its expressions would have neither a growling tone nor sullenness—those familiar bothersome traits of old dogs and men who have lain a long time chained up. when many signs point. and perhaps not conceal a little scorn: for that man's "freedom" is another matter entirely. 36. scarcely a mouthful of pleasure. but more in the judging of public events and personalities. The advantages of psychological observation. . and quick to admire but even quicker to run away. one is not acute enough in discerning what is successful and attractive.his brother. Why has it been forgotten in this century. in Germany at least. for these are the work of exceptional men. as the learned phrase goes. "psychological observation") is one of the means by which man can ease life's burden. II. to the dearth of psychological observation? Not particularly in novels. that by exercising this art. Even more uncommon is the man who knows them and does not despise them. and philosophical meditations. the free man of action. Why do people let the richest and most harmless source of entertainment get away from them? Why do they not even read the great masters of the psychological maxim any more? For it is no exaggeration to say that it is hard to find the cultured European who has read La Rochefoucauld and his spiritual and artistic cousins. has not been challenged by it himself.— That meditating on things human. On the History of the Moral Sensations 35. short stories. for not even the finest mind is capable of adequate appreciation of the art of the polished maxim if he has not been educated to it. indeed. For that reason present-day readers of maxims take a relatively insignificant delight in them. But even this unusual reader will probably find much less delight in those artists than their form ought to give him. Without such practical learning one takes this form of creating and forming to be easier than it is. known—in earlier centuries. praising them because they cannot love them. one can secure presence of mind in difficult situations and entertainment amid boring surroundings. all too human (or. if not throughout Europe. they react like typical viewers of cameos. that from the thorniest and unhappiest phases of one's own life one can pluck maxims and feel a bit better thereby: this was believed. most of all we lack the art of psychological dissection and calculation in all classes of society. where one hears a lot of talk about men. but none at all about man. and mankind can no longer be spared the cruel sight of the moral dissecting table and its knives and forceps. will eventually curse an art which seems to implant in the souls of men a predilection for belittling and doubt. but for a witty coquetry. then the welfare of human society has benefited (even if the truth of human society has not). and continues to lay them anew. and dullness in this area generally.Objection. we need a sober courage to do such humble work without shame and to defy any who disdain it. and the shadow of these dismal spirits in the end falls even across physics and the entire perception of the world. a certain blind faith in the goodness of human nature. pebble upon pebble. help humanity forward. but the spectator who is guided not by the scientific spirit. then what we need now is a persistence in work that does not tire of piling stone upon stone. And because the scent of that old homeland (a very seductive scent) has attached itself almost inextricably to the whole genre of the moral maxim. in virtuous men and actions. religion and mythological monsters are then in turn called to buttress it. If one imitates Plutarch's heroes with enthusiasm and feels an aversion toward tracing skeptically the motives for their actions. but by the humane spirit. And perhaps the belief in goodness. how an erroneous analysis of so-called selfless behavior. which is helpful in isolated instances. always avoided investigation of the origin and history of the moral sensations. since it has been demonstrated in many instances how the errors of the greatest philosophers usually have their point of departure in a false explanation of certain human actions and sensations. the author of Psychological Observations [written by Paul Rée."] La Rochefoucauld and those other French masters of soul searching (whose company a German. 37. Which principle did . 1875] . the older philosophy doesn't even acknowledge such problems and has. Nevertheless. but knowledge of the truth might gain more from the stimulating power of an hypothesis like the one La Rochefoucauld places at the beginning of the first edition of his Sentences et maximes morales: "Ce que le monde nomme vertu n'est d'ordinaire qu'un fantome formé par nos passions. can be the basis for a false ethics. and palliatives? Might one be so persuaded of the unpleasant consequences of this art as to intentionally divert the student's gaze from it? Indeed. With what consequences is now very clearly apparent. But if it is a fact that the superficiality of psychological observation has laid the most dangerous traps for human judgment and conclusions. remedies. for example. the black mark of man's nature. the scientific man instinctively shows some suspicion towards this genre and its seriousness. a kind of shame with respect to the naked soul. a qui on donne un nom honnete pour faire impunément ce qu'on veut. may really be more desirable for a man's overall happiness than the trait of psychological sharpsightedness." ["That which the world calls virtue is usually nothing but a phantom formed by our passions to which we give an honest name so as to do what we wish with impunity.— However credit and debit balances may stand: at its present state as a specific individual science the awakening of moral observation has become necessary.— Or might there be a counterargument to the thesis that psychological observation is one of life's best stimulants. It is true that countless individual remarks about things human and all too human were first detected and stated in those social circles which would make every sort of sacrifice not for scientific knowledge. with paltry evasions. an inculcated aversion to dissecting human behavior. But it suffices to point to the outcome: already it is becoming clear that the most serious results grow up from the ground of psychological observation. which hit the mark again and again. in that it has made them less distrustful. in an abundance of impersonal goodwill in the world has made men better. Their skill inspires amazement. Psychological error. For now that science rules which asks after the origin and history of moral feelings and which tries as it progresses to pose and solve the complicated sociological problems. has recently joined) are like accurately aimed arrows. however. Now one finally discovers that this nature. irrespective of their consequences: thus committing the same error as that by which language designates the stone itself as hard. harmless. that man can be made accountable for nothing. the error of accountability. nor for his actions. so too true science." Perhaps at some point in the future this principle. and moderate as we now are and thus render service to this age at some future time as a mirror and self-reflection of itself? — 39. Let him look around meanwhile. ." he says. further man's benefit and welfare and achieve what is useful—but likewise without having willed it. however. which rests on the error of freedom of will. not for his nature. fruitful and frightful at the same time. who are overly excitable and unstable. will sometimes. occasionally need heavy. who can say?). of whether psychological observation brings more advantage or harm upon men. then. just as nature sometimes brings about the most useful things without having wanted to. cannot be accountable. One has thereby attained to the knowledge that the history of the moral sensations if the history of an error. then for their actions. "stands no nearer to the intelligible (metaphysical) world than does the physical man. by taking for cause that which is effect. as others. The fable of intelligible freedom.— Let us table the question. nor for the effect he produces. which is the imitation of nature in concepts. In any event. and finally for their nature. grown hard and sharp by the hammerblow of historical knowledge. one calls individual actions good or bad quite irrespective of their motives but solely on account of their useful or harmful consequences.one of the keenest and coolest thinkers. Then one consigns the being good or being evil to the motives and regards the deeds in themselves as morally ambiguous. then for their motives. one forgets the origin of these designations and believes that the quality "good" and "evil" is inherent in the actions themselves. nor for his motives. so should not we—the more spiritual men of an age that is visibly being set aflame more and more— reach for all quenching and cooling means available to remain at least as steady. nay often. takes as little consideration of final purposes as does nature. can serve as the axe laid to the root of men's "metaphysical need" (whether as more of a blessing than as a curse for the general welfare. the tree itself as green—that is to say. How beneficial. the author of the book On the Origin of the Moral Sensations [written by Paul Rée. 1876-7] . Whoever feels too wintry in the breeze of this kind of observation has perhaps too little fire in him. and he will perceive diseases which require cold poultices. for science cannot do without it. that is to say. it is a tenet with the most weighty consequences. arrive at through his incisive and piercing analysis of human actions? "The moral man. and seeing into the world with that Janus-face which all great insights have. 38. too. of the moral sensations. One goes further and accords the predicate good or evil no longer to the individual motive but to the whole nature of a man out of whom the motive grows as the plant does from the soil. as all overly earnest individuals and peoples have a need for frivolity. Science. and men who are so "molded" out of glowing spirit that they have great trouble in finding an atmosphere cold and biting enough for them anywhere. What is certain is that it is necessary. oppressive burdens for their health's sake. Moreover.— The principal stages in the history of the sensations by virtue of which we make anyone accountable for his actions. are as follows. Thus one successively makes men accountable for the effects they produce. Soon. in as much as it is altogether a necessary consequence and assembled from the elements and influences of things past and present: that is to say. First of all. Schopenhauer. on the other hand. a thing. The proposition is as clear as daylight. on the contrary. the basic cause of the existence of an individual: man becomes that which he wills to become. moreover. manner of acting]—the sphere of strict causality. Without the errors inherent in the postulates of morality. tied to the evolution of morality and culture and perhaps present in only a relatively brief span of world-history. not because he is free. but man himself acquired his entire nature with this same necessity (which Schopenhauer denies). But as it is he has taken himself to be something higher and has imposed stricter laws upon himself. He therefore has a hatred of those stages of man that remain closer to the animal state. and many people do not feel it at all in respect of actions which evoke it in others.— In the strict sense. not to act thus or thus. and from this erroneous conclusion Schopenhauer arrives at his fantastic concept of so-called intelligible freedom. Thus: it is because man regards himself as free. to be sure—to that extent it is an error —in truth. rather. which explains why the slave used to be disdained as a nonhuman. something one can disaccustom oneself to. This also applies when the individual judges himself. his character would in fact be absolutely variable. Here the erroneous conclusion is drawn that from the fact of a feeling of displeasure there can be inferred the justification. not in respect of his actions but in respect to his nature: freedom to be thus or thus. That feeling of displeasure appears to relate to the operari. according to this philosopher's insight). Schopenhauer believes he can demonstrate a freedom which man must have acquired somehow. necessity and unaccountability. to keep it from tearing us apart. so that out of him little by little an abundance of different individuals would develop. this popular tenet means only that during a man's short lifetime the motives affecting him cannot normally cut deeply enough to destroy the imprinted writing of many millennia. to judge is the same thing as to be unjust. the sphere of freedom and accountability. no one for his nature. for there would be no ground for this feeling of displeasure if not only all human actions were determined by necessity (as they actually do. If a man eighty thousand years old were conceivable. This feeling is. that he feels remorse and pangs of conscience. 41. The unchangeable character.— The beast in us wants to be lied to. which is the deed of the free will. The over-animal. the rational admissibility of this feeling of displeasure. morality is a white lie. and yet here everyone prefers to retreat back into the shadows and untruth: from fear of the consequences. But a feeling of displeasure after a deed is absolutely not obliged to be rational. From the esse [being]. . 40. No one is accountable for his deeds. it cannot be. since it rests precisely on the erroneous presupposition that that deed need not have taken place of necessity. to the esse. his willing precedes his existence. however. The brevity of human life misleads us to many an erroneous assertion about the qualities of man. that is to say. there follows in his opinion the operari [action. there must exist a sense of accountability. man would have remained an animal. it is not true that one's character is unchangeable. concluded as follows: because certain actions produce displeasure ("consciousness of guilt"). It is a very changeable thing. From the fact of that feeling of displeasure. for example) is taken for immoral. The hierarchy of the good. Good and bad is for a long time the same thing as noble and base. places gratitude among its first duties." a community which has a sense of belonging together because all the individuals in it are combined with one another through the capacity for requital. the man of power in turn lays hands on the sphere of his benefactor through the act of gratitude. 43.— The reason the man of power is grateful is this. Swift suggested that men are grateful in the same degree as they are revengeful." to a swarm of subject. powerless people who have no sense of belonging together. but only in degree. the mountain range of humanity shows openly its deeper formations. Gratitude and revenge. As a bad man one belongs to the "bad. however. Morality and the ordering of the good . one does not regard the enemy as evil: he can requite. that is to say. "Immoral" then indicates that someone has not felt. yet by the standard of the present culture he is immoral. which have been left over. The hierarchy itself is not established or changed from the point of view of morality. They are backward men whose brains. evil with evil. through the help he has given him. finer. based on how a low. because of various possible accidents of heredity. and also actually practices requital—is. the bad a mass like grains of sand. he is moral by the standard of an earlier culture.— We must think of men who are cruel today as stages of earlier cultures.42. grateful and revengeful—is called good. Twofold prehistory of good and evil.— The concept good and evil has a twofold prehistory: firstly in the soul of the ruling tribes and castes. likewise to prefer comfort to freedom. good with good. as it were laid hands on the sphere of the man of power and intruded into it: now. master and slave. As a good man one belongs to the "good. In Homer the Trojan and the Greek are both . That is why every community of the good. The good are a caste. or a most high egoism desires that thing or the other. is not fixed and identical at all times. just as there are said to be reminders of the fish state in the form of certain human organs. by way of requital. the man of power would have appeared unpowerful and thenceforth counted as such. His benefactor has. Cruel men as backward. nevertheless an action is judged moral or immoral according to the prevailing determination. But they themselves are as little responsible as a piece of granite for being granite. for example) to one esteemed higher (health. too. which otherwise lie hidden. But these grooves and bends are no longer the bed in which the river of our feeling courses. have not yet developed much delicacy or versatility. higher. decides today about morality or immorality. In our brain.— The accepted hierarchy of the good. To prefer a low good (sensual pleasure. If someone prefers revenge to justice. 45. They show us what we all were. there must be grooves and bends which correspond to that state of mind. in their case. 44. If he did not have the compensation of gratitude. or not felt strongly enough. he who is powerless and cannot requite counts as bad. the higher. more spiritual motives which the new culture of the time has brought with it. and frighten us. On the other hand. He who has the power to requite. It is a milder form of revenge. that is to say originally the powerful. It indicates a backward nature. it is impossible for a bad man to grow out of such good soil. a prelude with a dreadful termination. ruthless. a means of confusing and outwitting. divine mean the same thing as diabolical. we feel it more painfully than when we ourselves do it. there is a Christian hypochrondria which befalls those lonely. Thus our love for him (probably because of this very belief) is more intense than his own love for himself. religious-minded people who continually visualize to themselves the suffering and death of Christ. saying that he struck the good man with blindness and madness. Only the boldest utopians would dream of the economy of kindness. but only as a euphemism) is touched more intensely by his guilt than is his selflessness. Hypochondria. rare things.— Kindness and love. Signs of goodness. indeed for every living being one supposes to exist. 49. Similarly. of their tribes and races. For we believe in the purity of his character more than he does. for example. in short as refined wickedness. Goodwill. one blames God. Even if his egoism suffers more than our egoism. is near. our selflessness (this word must never be taken literally. 46.— There are cases where sympathy for suffering is more painful than actual suffering. Should one of the good men nevertheless do something unworthy of good men. cunning. I mean those expressions of a friendly disposition in interactions. the powerless. every official brings this ingredient to what he considers his duty. at best the most rudimentary form of community: so that wherever this conception of good and evil reigns the downfall of such individuals. the kind of pity which results is nothing less than a disease. counts as inimical. evil. 47.— Among the small but endlessly abundant and therefore very effective things that science ought to heed more than the great. that ease which usually envelops nearly all human actions. benevolence. are such precious finds that one would hope these balsamlike remedies would be used as economically as possible. cruel. the most curative herbs and agents in human intercourse. In the community of the good. It is the continual manifestation of our humanity. one resorts to excuses. is goodwill. goodness is hereditary. Economy of kindness. that smile of the eye. Sympathy more painful than suffering.— There are people who become hypochondriacs out of compassion and concern for another. its . whether he be noble or base. for example. but this is impossible. 48. Our present morality has grown up in the soil of the ruling tribes and castes. for a god. ready to take advantage. When one of our friends is guilty of something ignominious. Here every other man. human. Then in the soul of the subjected. When this disposition exists in the individual a community can hardly arise. Evil is the characterizing expression for man. It is not he who does us harm but he who is contemptible who counts as bad. Every teacher. sympathy are received fearfully as a trick. for example.good. in that he has to feel the bad consequences of his fault more intensely. those handclasps. life sprouts and blossoms only by this goodwill. and a few men are too good. in which everything grows. in his (and Plato's) judgment. Similarly. just as goodwill. three-quarters of all questions and answers are framed in order to hurt the participants a little bit. how they wait for the moment when their condition will be noticed. friendliness.— In the most noteworthy passage of his self-portrait (first published in 1658). The pity that the spectators then express consoles the weak and suffering. is the perennially ready cure. Especially within the narrowest circle. 50. So they may try to deny that Prosper Merimée is right when he says. charity. so that they will be pitied." as La Rochefoucauld thinks. When expressions of pity make the unfortunate man aware of this feeling of superiority. Good nature. but one ought to guard against having it. Observe how children weep and cry. The sum of these small doses is nevertheless mighty. La Rochefoucauld certainly hits the mark when he warns all reasonable men against pity. and at the expense of one's fellow men. when he advises them to leave it to those common people who need passions (because they are not directed by reason) to bring them to the point of helping the sufferer and intervening energetically in a misfortune. malevolence takes effect as one of life's powerful stimulants. and in fact there really is not much about them that is selfless. they still have at least one power: the power to hurt. he is still important enough to inflict pain on the world. even the most oppressed. this is why many men thirst after society so much: it gives them a feeling of their strength. and question whether their eloquent laments and whimpering. the spectacle of their misfortune. called pity. so to speak.rays of light. a kind of mental disorder resulting from their misfortune (this is how La Rochefoucauld seems to regard it). weakens the soul. Of course one ought to express pity. dispensed in the same way throughout the human world. but very small doses. and courtesy of the heart are ever-flowing tributaries of the selfless drive and have made much greater contributions to culture than those much more famous expressions of this drive. and self-sacrifice. there is much more happiness to be found in the world than dim eyes can see. for unfortunate people are so stupid that they count the expression of pity as the greatest good on earth. is not basically aimed at hurting those present. Or live among the ill and depressed. In social dialogue. in the family. if one calculates correctly and does not forget all those moments of ease which are so plentiful in every day of every human life. inasmuch as they see that. But we tend to underestimate them. but not precisely in his "stupidity. For pity. despite all their weakness. he gets a kind of pleasure from it. It reveals man in the complete inconsideration of his most intimate dear self. Thus the thirst for pity is a thirst for self-enjoyment. Desire to arouse pity. In these countless. its cumulative force is among the strongest of forces. But will there be many people honest enough to admit that it is a pleasure to inflict pain? That not infrequently one amuses himself (and well) by offending other men (at least in his thoughts) and by shooting pellets of petty malice at them? Most people are too dishonest. to know anything about this pudendum [source of shame]. Perhaps one can warn even more strongly against having pity for the unfortunate if one does not think of their need for pity as stupidity and intellectual deficiency. but rather as something quite different and more dubious. " Sachez aussi qu'il n'y a rien de . his selfimage revives. they do have those clearer moments. as his own audience. finally end by becoming natural. when doubt overwhelms them. as he imitates from the outside.plus commun que de faire le mal pour le plaisir de le faire. Or if the father does not get that far. 53. In the actual act of deception. among all the preparations. The founders of religions are distinguished from those other great deceivers by the fact that they do not come out of this condition of self-deception: or. Priests. the Christian believes the claims of the church's founders. If someone wants to seem to be something. for there is no eternal justice. even for example at the burial of his own child. he eventually finds it hard to be anything else. 52.— Even when in the deepest distress. gestures. it is otherwise. Basically. Self-deception must be present. Perhaps one calls them levels of truth. perhaps the son. Such an occurrence seems to contradict eternal justice. 54. amid the striking scenery. the belief in themselves overcomes them. begins with hypocrisy. Thus the child believes his parents' judgments. for example. but they usually comfort themselves by foisting these clearer moments off on the evil adversary. using his father's headway. even the artist. The man who always wears the mask of a friendly countenance eventually has to gain power over benevolent moods without which the expression of friendliness cannot be forced—and eventually then these moods gain power over him. who are usually conscious or unconscious hypocrites when they are young men. Unfortunately. For men will believe something is true. How appearance becomes being. so that both kinds of deceivers can have a grand effect. and then they really are priests. and he is benevolent. with no affectation. very infrequently. that there is nothing more common than to do evil for the pleasure of doing it.— In all great deceivers there occurs a noteworthy process to which they owe their power. expression. the actor ultimately cannot cease to think of the impression he and the whole scenic effect is making. The hypocrite who always plays one and the same role finally ceases to be a hypocrite. " ["Know."] 51. stubbornly and for a long time. Likewise. if it is evident that others believe in it firmly. too. Alleged levels of truth. . one thinks that if someone honestly believed in something and fought for his belief and died it would be too unfair if he had actually been inspired by a mere error. the horror in the voice.— One common false conclusion is that because someone is truthful and upright toward us he is speaking the truth. copies what is effective. The point of honesty in deception . people do not want to admit that all those things which men have defended with the sacrifice of their lives and happiness in earlier centuries were nothing but errors. The profession of almost every man. inherits the habit. It is this that speaks so miraculously and convincingly to the onlookers. Therefore the hearts of sensitive men always decree in opposition to their heads that there must be a necessary connection between moral actions and intellectual insights. he will weep over his own distress and the ways in which it expresses itself. however. do not deceive others. and so on. Not even the most freeminded dare to resist so selfless a man with the hard sense for truth. will cool him down and soften all the wildness in his disposition. moral and immoral. still numerous. 55. neither are there any virtues. and devoted." "incapacity for the good": for him they are only the evanescent silhouettes of erroneous thoughts about life and the world. untiring. but to climb higher. he must invent twenty other lies to make good the first). one might ask if we the enlightened. To understand ourselves we must understand it. like its opposite. He will no longer want to condemn and root out his desires. dissembling. would be such good instruments. too. one generally tends to treat it unjustly. perhaps even flagellation. he no longer feels anything at the words "pains of hell. Thus one speaks of the Jesuits' cunning and their infamous art. but overlooks what selfconquest each single Jesuit imposes upon himself." as the world calls it) at the most out of ignorance. but if one does not like a thing. 56. because the path of obligation and authority is safer than that of cunning. Rather it is because. we recognize that this entire realm of moral ideas is in a continual state of fluctuation. but for whole periods of time it was predominant and its roots have sunk deep into us and into our world. but rather for the layman's. and will always say instinctively that which corresponds to his interests. . Indeed. that is. governing him completely. to understand as well as he can at all times. he will employ the lie naturally. fervent prayers. and so he lies in complete innocence. A feeling for truth. using their tactics and organization. However many "worldly" elements the Catholic Church may have.The lie.— No power can maintain itself if only hypocrites represent it. By spreading this doubt they keep reestablishing a pillar of their power. but hardly out of desire. and whose eye and emaciated body speak of nightly vigils. first. we must then climb over and beyond it. so admirably self-mastering.— Why do men usually tell the truth in daily life? Certainly not because a god has forbidden lying. in the same sense. We recognize that there are no sins in the metaphysical sense. To suspect morality because of belief . its strength rests on those priestly natures. but. I did that.— The man who wants to gain wisdom profits greatly from having thought for a time that man is basically evil and degenerate: this idea is wrong. by no means a difference of goodness or badness. a distaste for lying in and of itself. A man who desires no more from things than to understand them easily makes peace with his soul and will err (or "sin. and say: "You who are deceived. If a child has been raised in complicated domestic circumstances. who make life deep and difficult for themselves. Then. These men shock others and worry them: what if it were necessary to live like that?—this is the horrible question that the sight of them brings to the tongue. that there are higher and deeper concepts of good and evil. In addition. it is more convenient: for lies demand imagination." Only a difference of insight separates them from this man." "sinfulness. it is because it is advantageous in ordinary circumstances to say directly: I want this. and memory (which is why Swift says that the man who tells a lie seldom perceives the heavy burden he is assuming: namely. Triumph of knowledge over radical evil. is alien to him and inaccessible. however. but his single goal. he has rid himself of a number of tormenting ideas. fasting. and how that lighter regimen preached in Jesuit textbooks is certainly not for their own benefit. 57. Morality as the self-division of man.— A good author whose heart is really in his subject wishes that someone would come and annihilate him by presenting the same subject with greater clarity and resolving all the questions contained in it. The girl in love wishes that she might prove the devoted faithfulness of her love through her lover's faithlessness. The soldier wishes that he might fall on the battlefield for his victorious fatherland, for in the victory of his fatherland his greatest desire is also victorious. The mother gives the child what she takes from herself: sleep, the best food, in some instances even her health, her wealth. Are all these really selfless states, however? Are these acts of morality miracles because they are, to use Schopenhauer's phrase, "impossible and yet real"? Isn't it clear that, in all these cases, man is loving something of himself, a thought, a longing, an offspring, more than something else of himself; that he is thus dividing up his being and sacrificing one part for the other? Is it something essentially different when a pigheaded man says, "I would rather be shot at once than move an inch to get out of that man's The inclination towards something (a wish, a drive, a longing) is present in all the abovementioned cases; to yield to it, with all its consequences, is in any case not "selfless." In morality, man treats himself not as an "individuum," but as a "dividuum." [Terms of Scholastic philosophy: individuum: that which cannot be divided without destroying its essence, dividuum: that which is composite and lacks an individual essence.] 58. What one can promise.— One can promise actions, but not feelings, for the latter are involuntary. He who promises to love forever or hate forever or be forever faithful to someone is promising something that is not in his power. He can, however, promise those actions that are usually the consequence of love, hatred, or faithfulness, but that can also spring from other motives: for there are several paths and motives to an action. A promise to love someone forever, then, means, "As long as I love you I will render unto you the actions of love; if I no longer love you, you will continue to receive the same actions from me, if for other motives." Thus the illusion remains in the minds of one's fellow men that the love is unchanged and still the same. One is promising that the semblance of love will endure, then, when without self-deception one vows everlasting love. 59. Intellect and morality.— One must have a good memory to be able to keep the promises one has given. One must have strong powers of imagination to be able to have pity. So closely is morality bound to the quality of the intellect. 60. Desire to avenge and vengeance.— To have thoughts of revenge and execute them means to be struck with a violent—but temporary—fever. But to have thoughts of revenge without the strength or courage to execute them means to endure a chronic suffering, a poisoning of body and soul. A morality that notes only the intentions assesses both cases equally; usually the first case is assessed as worse (because of the evil consequences that the act of revenge may produce). Both evaluations are short-sighted. 61. The ability to wait.— Being able to wait is so hard that the greatest poets did not disdain to make the inability to wait the theme of their poetry. Thus Shakespeare in his Othello, Sophocles in his Ajax, who, as the oracle suggests, might not have thought his suicide necessary, if only he had been able to let his feeling cool for one day more. He probably would have outfoxed the terrible promptings of his wounded vanity and said to himself: "Who, in my situation, has never once taken a sheep for a warrior? Is that so monstrous? On the contrary, it is something universally human." Ajax might have consoled himself thus. Passion will not wait. The tragedy in the lives of great men often lies not in their conflict with the times and the baseness of their fellow men, but rather in their inability to postpone their work for a year or two. They cannot wait. In every duel, the advising friends have to determine whether the parties involved might be able to wait a while longer. If they cannot, then a duel is reasonable, since each of the parties says to himself: "Either I continue to live, and the other must die at once, or vice versa." In that case, to wait would be to continue suffering the horrible torture of offended honor in the presence of the offender. And this can be more suffering than life is worth. 62. Reveling in revenge.— Crude men who feel themselves insulted tend to assess the degree of insult as high as possible, and talk about the offense in greatly exaggerated language, only so they can revel to their heart's content in the aroused feelings of hatred and revenge. 63. The value of belittling.— Not a few, perhaps the great majority of men, find it necessary, in order to maintain their self-respect and a certain effectiveness in their actions, to lower and belittle the image they form of everyone they know. Since, however, the number of inferior natures is greater, and since it matters a great deal whether they have that effectiveness or lose it — 64. Those who flare up.— We must beware of the man who flares up at us as of someone who has once made an attempt upon our life. For that we are still alive is due to his lacking the power to kill. If looks could kill, we would long ago have been done for. It is an act of primitive culture to bring someone to silence by making physical savageness visible, by inciting fear. In the same way, the cold glance which elegant people use with their servants is a vestige from those castelike distinctions between man and man, an act of primitive antiquity. Women, the guardians of that which is old, have also been more faithful in preserving this cultural remnant. 65. Where honesty may lead.— Someone had the unfortunate habit of speaking out from time to time quite honestly about the motives for his actions, motives which were as good and as bad as those of all other men. At first, he gave offense, then he awoke suspicion, and at length he was virtually ostracized and banished. Finally, justice remembered this depraved creature on occasions when it otherwise averted or winked its eye. His want of silence about the universal secret, and his irresponsible inclination to see what no one wants to see—his own self— brought him to prison and an untimely death. 66. Punishable, never punished.— Our crime against criminals is that we treat them like scoundrels. 67. Sancta simplicitas [holy simplicity] of virtue.— Every virtue has its privileges, one being to deliver its own little bundle of wood to the funeral pyre of a condemned man. 68. Morality and success.— It is not only the witnesses of a deed who often measure its moral or immoral nature by its success. No, the author of a deed does so, too. For motives and intentions are seldom sufficiently clear and simple, and sometimes even memory seems to be dimmed by the success of a deed, so that one attributes false motives to his deed, or treats inessential motives as essential. Often it is success that gives to a deed the full, honest lustre of a good conscience; failure lays the shadow of an uneasy conscience upon the most estimable action. This leads to the politician's well-known practice of thinking: "Just grant me success; with it I will bring all honest souls to my side—and make myself honest in my own sight." In a similar way, success can take the place of more substantial arguments. Even now, many educated people think that the victory of Christianity over Greek philosophy is a proof of the greater truth of the former—although in this case it is only that something more crude and violent has triumphed over something more spiritual and delicate. We can determine which of them has the greater truth by noting that the awakening sciences have carried on point for point with the philosophy of Epicurus, but have rejected Christianity point for point. 69. Love and justice.— Why do we overestimate love to the disadvantage of justice, saying the nicest things about it, as if it were a far higher essence than justice? Isn't love obviously more foolish? Of course, but for just that reason so much more pleasant for everyone. Love is foolish, and possesses a rich horn of plenty; from it she dispenses her gifts to everyone, even if he does not deserve them, indeed, even if he does not thank her for them. She is as nonpartisan as rain, which (according to the Bible and to experience) rains not only upon the unjust, but sometimes soaks the just man to the skin, too. 70. he gives man hope. and he takes the remaining evil for the greatest worldly good—it is hope. Hope. who tyrannized him so by word and glance that he really did suffer death in the most seemly way. To that end. Degree of moral inflammability unknown. a cruel ambush by an enemy. Everyday rule-of-thumb. In truth.— In one party. His was a miserable.— Whether or not our passions reach the point of red heat and guide our whole life depends on whether or not we have been exposed to certain shocking sights or impressions—for example a father falsely executed. the painful preparations.— One will seldom go wrong to attribute extreme actions to vanity. the environment. an unfaithful wife. The martyr against his will. For he does not know that the box which Pandora brought was the box of evils. it is usually not the quality of the experiences but rather the quantity that determines the lower and the higher man. even if there were guilt.— Pandora brought the box with the evils and opened it. Although the cowardly man always said "no" inwardly. They used him for every service. killed or tortured. and has since been celebrated as a martyr and a man of great character. mean conditions make one miserable. Since that time." Then all the evils. For guilt is not being punished. 73. even on the scaffold. They recognized this and on the basis of those qualities they made him first into a hero and finally into a martyr. . he reaches for it when he fancies it. it is the most evil of evils because it prolongs man's torment. in good and in evil. he does not know the degree of his inflammability. because he was more afraid of the bad opinions of his companions than of death itself. those lively. enticing gift.Executions. or indignation may drive him. 75. winged beings.— How is it that every execution offends us more than a murder? It is the coldness of the judges. It is at his service. It was the gods' gift to man. So now man has the box of good fortune in his house forever and thinks the world of the treasure. moderate ones to habit. flew out of it. Pandora slammed the top down and it remained inside. but rather to go on letting himself be tormented anew. for Zeus did not want man to throw his life away. in us. and petty ones to fear. he always said "yes" with his lips. No one knows how far circumstances. guilt lies in the educators. the parents. no matter how much the other evils might torment him. weak soul. 72. As Zeus had wished. Next to him stood one of his old comrades. pity. when he died for the views of his party. there was a man who was too anxious and cowardly ever to contradict his comrades. not in the murderer—I am talking about the motivating circumstances. Miserable. they roam around and do harm to men by day and night. 71. on the outside a beautiful. One single evil had not yet slipped out of the box. the understanding that a man is here being used as a means to deter others. they demanded everything of him. called the "box of good fortune. 74. — When a rich man takes a possession from a poor one (for example. The honor of the person applied to the cause. In this way we heighten the value of the things loved in that way. 77. Vanity enriches. Ambition as a surrogate for moral sense . 80.— Disregarding the demands made by religion one might well ask: why should it be more laudable for an old man who senses the decline of his powers to await his slow exhaustion and dissolution than in full consciousness to set himself a limit? Suicide is in this case a wholly natural obvious action. assuming that they bring the right kind of coin (admiration) with them. which as a victory for reason ought fairly to awaken reverence: and did awaken it in those ages when the heads of Greek philosophy and the most upright Roman patriots were accustomed to die by suicide. or for which sacrifices are made. the man who has been greatly plagued by his passions and vices longs to find peace and his soul's happiness in virtue. having once lost their moral sense. A valiant army convinces us about the cause for which it is fighting. and have almost the same success. It lures customers of every kind. imagines that virtue must be associated with displeasure. The ascetic. without the strength to come nearer the actual goal of one's life: this is far less worthy of respect. Errors of the sufferer and the doer. Thus it is possible that two virtuous people will not understand each other at all. 79. On the other hand. Thus the sons of humble families with no ambition will usually turn into complete cads very quickly. Ambitious people make do without it. a prince robs a plebian of his beloved) an error arises in the poor man: he thinks the rich man must be utterly infamous to take from him the little that he has. like the man who has a pleasure-seeking youth behind him. have everything. 76. 78. wherever we find them. Religions provide abundant excuses to escape the need to kill oneself: this is how they insinuate themselves with those who are in love with life. the compulsion to prolong life from day to day.— The ascetic makes a necessity of virtue.Misunderstanding about virtue. anxiously consulting doctors and accepting the most painful. Old age and death. they can find almost everything. But the rich man .— We universally honor acts of love and sacrifice for the sake of one's neighbor.— The man who has come to know vice in connection with pleasure. Conversely.— Any character lacking in ambition must not be without a moral sense. 81. even though they are in themselves perhaps not worth much.— How poor the human spirit would be without vanity! Instead it is like a warehouse. humiliating conditions. replete and forever replenishing its stock. it is automatically assumed that the perpetrator and sufferer think and feel the same. she will get up more refreshed. with a journalist who misleads public opinion by little dishonesties. It is the same with an unjust judge. and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted. Indeed.— Most men are much too concerned with themselves to be malicious. [Luke 18. Simply the inherited feeling of being a higher being. The injustice of the mighty. none of us feels anything like injustice when there is a great difference between ourselves and some other being. 86. cause and effect are experienced in quite different categories of thought and feeling. 85.— When virtue has slept. Luke 18:14. So it is no sign of wickedness in Xerxes (whom even all the Greeks portray as exceptionally noble) when he takes a son from his father and has him cut to pieces. The idea of pain is not the same as the suffering of it.— Just as the bones. so the stirrings and passions of the soul are covered up by vanity: it is the skin of the soul. In each of these cases. 83. without any twinge of conscience. . he stands too low to be allowed to keep on arousing bothersome feelings in a world ruler. and we kill a gnat. Malice is rare. In this case the individual man is eliminated like an unpleasant insect. and the guilt of the one is therefore measured by the pain of the other. Refinement of shame. 88. flesh.— We praise or blame according to whether the one or the other offers a greater opportunity for our power of judgement to shine out. because the father had expressed an anxious and doubtful distrust of their entire campaign. 82.does not feel nearly so deeply the value of a single possession because he is used to having many: thus he cannot transport himself into the soul of the poor man and has not committed nearly so great an injustice as the latter supposes. for example. nevertheless. makes one rather cold. 87. which makes the sight of a man bearable. with higher pretensions. no cruel man is cruel to the extent that the mistreated man believes. and blood vessels are enclosed by skin.] — He who humbleth himself wants to be exalted. intestines. Indeed. improved. 14: for every one that exalteth himself shall be abased. The skin of the soul. The sleep of virtue.— Men are not ashamed to think something dirty. 84. is by no means as great as it appears. Each has a false idea of the other. which enrages us most in history. The index of the scales. and leaves the conscience at peace. but they are ashamed when they imagine that others might believe them capable of these dirty thoughts. Only when someone holds the good opinion of others to be . pupils to their teachers. and thus destructive toward them. his wish to please himself. do we speak of vanity. Origin of justice. One must admit. and that they go so far as to neglect their own interests thereby. Usually the individual wants to confirm the opinion he has of himself through the opinion of others and strengthen it in his own eyes. In the vain man.— Justice (fairness) originates between parties of approximately equal power. that vain men want to please not only others. interest in himself. Moralité larmoyante [tearful morality]. Each man gives the other what he wants. to overvalue him greatly. but at the expense of his fellow men. Justice is thus requital and exchange under the presupposition of an approximately equal power position: revenge therefore belongs originally within the domain of justice. 89. and receives in turn that which he wishes. hostile. for they are often concerned to make their fellow men ill-disposed. 92. This one of life's delights would vanish away if the belief in complete irresponsibility were to get the upper hand. and then because we want to give others joy (children want to give joy to their parents. 90. to accept it only from the hand of others.— How much pleasure we get from morality! Just think what a river of agreeable tears has flowed at tales of noble. as Thucydides correctly grasped (in the terrible colloquy between the Athenian and Melian ambassadors): where there is no clearly recognizable superiority of force and a contest would result in mutual injury producing no decisive outcome the idea arises of coming to an understanding and negotiating over one another's demands: the characteristic of exchange is the original characteristic of justice. only for the sake of having pleasure in themselves. envious. Vanity. he brings about the error and then believes in it. Gratitude likewise. self-enjoyment. a bad fellow. In this case. is annoyed when that man ends by showing that he is not.important without regard to his interests or his wish to give joy. 91. Each satisfies the other in that each gets what he values more than the other.— Any man who has once declared the other man to be a fool.— There is a justice according to which we take a man's life.— We care about the good opinion of others first because it is profitable. but also themselves. They trust other people's powers of judgment more than their own. men of good will to all other men). but no justice according to which we take his death: that is nothing but cruelty. it is an exchange. then. generous actions. . and then he adheres to their authority. the man wants to give joy to himself.Prevention of suicide. in that he either misleads them to a false opinion about himself or aims at a degree of "good opinion" that would have to cause them all pain (by arousing their envy). that is. Limit of human love. to keep henceforth. reaches such a peak that he misleads others to assess him wrongly. but the mighty habituation to authority (which is as old as man) also leads many to base their own belief in themselves upon authority. submits under certain conditions to a greater power. as all valuations do: for something highly valued is striven for. by means of which he finds his place in society. "as he is believed to have power. in accordance with their intellectual habits. Since. [Spinoza. Now he shows and wants to be shown—respect. a city under siege. The three phases of morality until now . Of the right of the weaker. though they are more modest. for example. Preservation is to the enemy's advantage. . How little moral would the world appear without forgetfulness! A poet could say that God has placed forgetfulness as a doorkeeper on the threshold of the temple of human dignity. imitated. he himself determines for himself and others what is honorable.— The first sign that an animal has become human is that his behavior is no longer directed to his momentary well-being. enduring value to things of momentary value. and especially because children have for millennia been trained to admire and imitate such actions. that is. Thus there is a kind of equalization. submitting to commonly held feelings. Tractatus Politicus. thus to the egoism of the reflection: "to what end should I injure myself uselessly and perhaps even then not achieve my goal?" So much for the origin of justice. Thus the famous dictum: "unusquisque tantum juris habet. and the respectful recognition of what has common. section 8: "each man has as much right as he has power". 2. ch. permanent. He lives and acts as a collectiveindividual. Rights exist between slaves and masters to the same extent. Knowledge enables him to prefer what is most useful. its reciprocal condition is that this first party can destroy itself. but rather to his enduring well-being. and the like. essential. on the basis of which rights can be established. and thus make the power suffer a great loss. "quantum potentia valere creditur"). continually increasing. and this high value is. and grows as the worth of the toil and zeal expended by each individual is added to the worth of the valued thing. at the highest stage of morality until now. more exactly. exactly insofar as the possession of his slave is profitable and important to the master. Finally. to the other. that is. it has gradually come to appear that a just action is an unegoistic one: but it is on this appearance that the high value accorded it depends. that is. He has become the lawgiver of opinions. what is profitable. In this regard even the weaker of the two has rights. moreover. invincible. Rights originally extend just as far as one appears valuable."] 94. he acts according to his own standard of things and men. quantum potentia valet " (or. he understands his advantage as dependent on his opinion of others and their opinion of him. that man has thus become attuned to utility and purpose: then for the first time the free rule of reason bursts forth. in accordance with the ever more refined concept of usefulness and honor. 93. A still higher state is reached when man acts according to the principle of honor. that raises him high above the phase in which he is guided only by personal usefulness. burn the city.Justice goes back naturally to the viewpoint of an enlightened self-preservation. men have forgotten the original purpose of so-called just and fair actions.— If one party. multiplied through sacrifice. general usefulness to personal usefulness. so that when we hear the word "bad" now. and gladly. and it has been shown that in the beginning all impersonal acts were praised and distinguished in respect to the common good." To be evil is to be "not moral" (immoral). undeveloped. To be sure. as in the older Greek culture). even more injurious for the community than for the individual (because the divinity punishes the whole community for sacrilege and violation of its rights. the basic opposition is not "egoism" and "selflessness. the helpful man. practice revenge when that is considered moral. and the individual only as a part of that community). now when we see with ever greater clarity that precisely in the most personal respect the common good is also greatest. but is rather above all for the purpose of maintaining a community. who is called "good. Morality of the mature individual. 96. Now. and the like were always felt to be "good for" something. Every superstitious custom. to practice bad habits. the respect paid to the tradition accumulates from generation to generation. a people. to act in accordance with custom." but rather adherence to a tradition or law. easily. Pleasure in custom. we all still suffer from too slight a regard for our own personal needs. as mores changed.95. But because. each tradition grows more venerable the farther its origin lies in the past. To harm one's fellow. Whether one submits to it gladly or with difficulty makes no difference. one feels . has been felt primarily as injurious in all moral codes of different times. however reasonable or stupid it may be. finally the origin becomes sacred and awakens awe. after a long history of inheritance—that is. gladly. He is called good because he is good "for" something. The immature. for example. and thus the morality of piety is in any case much older than that morality which requires selfless acts. to be ethical means to practice obedience towards a law or tradition established from of old. useful. We call "good" the man who does the moral thing as if by nature. so that now it is precisely the strictly personal action which corresponds to the current concept of morality (as a common profit)? To make a whole person of oneself and keep in mind that person's greatest good in everything one does—this takes us further than any pitying impulses and actions for the sake of others. as if it were something bad which had to be sacrificed. to the needy. no more. When men determine between moral and immoral. The origin of the tradition makes no difference. enough that one submits. originating in a coincidence that is interpreted falsely. but only insofar as we find our own highest advantage in this work. goodwill. 97. grows out of habit. however. it has been poorly developed. or an immanent categorical imperative. Let us admit that our mind has instead been forcibly diverted from it and offered in sacrifice to the state. Custom and what is in accordance with it . no less. and thus an important source of morality. forces a tradition that it is moral to follow. good and evil. it is primarily the man of goodwill. at least concerning good and evil. Might not a significant transformation of these views be at hand. One does habitual things more easily. whatever it is (he will. the more it is forgotten. and release from it. Now too we wish to work for our fellow men.— An important type of pleasure. To release oneself from it is dangerous. crude individual will also understand it most crudely. to science.— Until now man has taken the true sign of a moral act to be its impersonal nature. pity. skillfully. go against tradition.— To be moral. It depends only on what ones understands by one's advantage. we think particularly of voluntary injury to one's fellow. we kill any being. they make sure. which make virtually every lass seem interesting to every lad (and vice versa) in view of potential pleasure. it gives the individual security. custom is the union of the pleasant and the useful. dangers. burdensome. for the good of each individual. in contrast to all the as yet unproven new experiments. however. Pleasure and social instinct. particularly mothers playing with their young. it is preserved because it seems to be highly useful. nor does "giving pleasure in and of itself" (pity.— From his relationship to other men. And thus social instinct grows out of pleasure. Shared sorrows do it. the feeling of being alike. be it ape or man. Here is the error: because one feels good with one custom. Analogous expressions of pleasure awaken the fantasy of empathy. become more pleasant and mild with time. for to him they represent proven wisdom. whereas we get much less angry at an animal because we consider it irresponsible. To do harm not out of a drive for preservation. more exactly.— All "evil" acts are motivated by the drive to preservation or. effective. Next one might think of sexual relations. man gains a new kind of pleasure. heightens this feeling. that wants to take a fruit off a tree before we do. too: the same storms. the enjoyment of life seems to grow out of it alone. it requires no thought. harsh. They do not know that the same degree of comfort can also exist with other customs and that even higher degrees of comfort can be attained. the whole deterioration of our imagination. "Giving pain in and of itself" does not exist. Accordingly. so motivated. if we were hiking through inhospitable territory. The innocent element in so-called evil acts. Upon this basis man has built the oldest covenant. he exercises it to introduce and enforce his mores. even where a custom is difficult. But they do perceive that all customs. that he had the choice not to do this bad thing to us. thirst for revenge. Perhaps some of these feelings have come down to him from the animals. even the harshest. in addition to those pleasurable feelings which he gets from himself. just when we are hungry and running up to the tree. This belief in his choice arouses hatred. A morality one can live with has been proved salutary. in addition. this custom is necessary. that everything take the same course. spite. enemies. 99. that is. makes him better-natured. a community will force each individual in it to the same mores. dissolves distrust and envy: one feels good oneself and can see the other man feel good in the same way. knowing from experience that the habit has stood the test and is useful. in the Schopenhauerian sense). but for requital—that is the . 98. whose purpose is to eliminate and resist communally any threatening unpleasure. shared joy. As soon as man can exercise force. or at least because he lives his life by means of it. with superstitious fear. We would treat the animal the same way today. In conditions preceding organized states. and that even the severest way of life can become a habit and thus a pleasure. who visibly feel pleasure when playing with each other. Pleasurable feeling based on human relations generally makes man better. except in the brain of philosophers.a pleasure at them. Those evil actions which outrage us most today are based on the error that that man who harms us has free will. by the individual's intention of procuring pleasure and avoiding displeasure. In this way he widens significantly the scope of his pleasurable feelings. This idea of habit as a condition of existence is carried right into the smallest details of custom: since lower peoples and cultures have only very slight insight into the real causality. pleasure taken together. they are not evil. for he holds it to be the only possibility by which one can feel good. Likewise. in that certain places were not to be trodden upon by the foot of the unconsecrated." in Turkish. divine intercourse: thus it is a sacred mystery and awakens shame. Who has the right to reproach Calvin of Geneva for burning Dr. Calvin allegedly denounced him to the Inquisition as a unitarian. that whole world of inner states. treat others harshly and cruelly to intimidate them. flowing out of his convictions. Serveto? [Miguel Serveto (151153): Spanish doctor and theologian. as a center radiating power and splendor. and finally almost instinct: then it is coupled to pleasure. because we now find those views so alien. as. to sexual relationships. Everywhere there were circumscribed areas. by children and Italians. The individual can. Force precedes morality. indeed. for example. we treat political heretics harshly and cruelly. in the interests of its teachings. who subjects to himself those who are weaker. in conditions preceding the organized state. there is no right that can prevent it. which were to he removed from the eyes of youth (for its own good). Besides. subjects the individuals in it. stems from ignorance. just as the state now takes the right. 100. . 101. Or rather. which can still be felt in peoples who are otherwise in no way ashamed. For the instinct for justice was not so widely developed then. This feeling was frequently carried over to other relationships. the so-called "soul. like all habitual and natural things. and is therefore likewise innocent. and is now called virtue. the cruelty in subjugating persons and peoples. Cruelty to animals. Judge not." is still a mysterium to all nonphilosophers since from time immemorial it was thought worthy of divine origin. to secure his existence through such intimidating demonstrations of his power. society or the state. but because we have learned to believe in the necessity of the state we are not as sensitive to this cruelty as we are to that cruelty whose justification vie reject. cannot be measured by our standards. and still later free obedience. Shame.result of an erroneous judgment.) Likewise kingship. that is.— When we consider earlier periods. when it draws them out of their isolatedness and integrates them into a union. namely. we must be careful not to fall into unjust abuse. Many gods were thought to be active in protecting and furthering the observance of these relationships. In the same way. who would feel horror and fear in their vicinity. he was burned in Geneva. In our own time. this is a religious concept that was widely prevalent in the older period of human culture. He has the right to do it. for example. except under certain conditions: at first these were spatial areas. it has many aftereffects. it is just that the views dominant then were wrong and resulted in a consistency that we find harsh. "sanctuary.] His was a consistent act. what is the burning of one man compared to the eternal pains of hell for nearly everyone! And yet this much more terrible idea used to dominate the whole world without doing any essential damage to the idea of a god. to which divine right forbade entrance. for a time morality itself is force. (This is why this chamber is called the harem. This is how the brutal. as a privilege and adytum [innermost chamber of a temple. the church has placed the animal too far beneath man. The ground for all morality can only be prepared when a greater individual or collective-individual. and the Inquisition likewise had its reasons. the original founder of a state. The injustice of slavery. powerful man acts. to which others acquiesce to avoid unpleasure. is to the humble subject a mysterium full of secrecy and shame. which is the same word commonly used for the vestibules of mosques.— Shame exists wherever there is a " mysterium". Later it becomes custom. where oracles are delivered] of maturity. watching over them as guardians in the nuptial chamber. for example. Harmlessness of malice. All joy in oneself is neither good nor bad. even intentional injury is not called immoral in all circumstances: without hesitating. for example. from consideration of the consequences. 103. to protect ourselves and society. Egoism is not evil. in teasing. fighting with wild animals. we take pleasure in breaking up twigs. when the injured party or the state representing him leads us to expect requital and revenge. without being so. "Man's actions are always good. But this distinction is in error. that another person is suffering because of us supposed to make immoral the same thing about which we otherwise feel no responsibility? But if one did not have this knowledge. Because of a lack of imagination. where should the determination come from that to have pleasure in oneself one may not cause displeasure in others? Solely from the point of view of utility. the prevailing measure of his rationality. when it is a matter of self-preservation! But these two points of view suffice to explain all evil acts which men practice against other men. In the first case it is the individual who does harm intentionally. in the second case the state does the harm. for example. in a way that seems to him good (useful) according to the degree of his intellect. most princes and military leaders can easily appear to be harsh and cruel. for the idea of one's "neighbor" (the word has a Christian origin and does not reflect the truth) is very weak in us. loosening stones. in some sense it is always a matter of self-preservation. which can reveal itself only in the suffering of the other. of possible displeasure. we assume necessity. is mitigated by the observation that the commander and the executor are different people: the former does not witness his cruelty and therefore has no strong impression of it in his imagination. which one would almost like not to believe. we intentionally kill a gnat. one would not have that pleasure in one's own superiority. and we feel toward him almost as free and irresponsible as toward plants and stones. . then.Likewise. to have pleasure on the basis of other people's displeasure? Is Schadenfreude [pleasure in another's suffering] devilish. then. the latter is obeying a superior and feels no responsibility. a feeling of revenge or a strong nervous excitement. 102. this alone can have been the original basis for denying oneself these actions. in history much that is frightful and inhuman. All morality allows the intentional infliction of harm for self-defense. that is. but rather at our own enjoyment. he always acts for the good. and in the second a voluntarily governing free will."— We do not accuse nature of immorality when it sends us a thunderstorm and makes us wet: why do we call the harmful man immoral? Because in the first case. man wants to get pleasure or resist unpleasure. Socrates and Plato are right: whatever man does. Furthermore. in order to gain awareness of our own strength. as Schopenhauer says? Now. in nature. and it can never be learned completely. that is. Every instance of teasing shows that it gives us pleasure to release our power on the other person and experience an enjoyable feeling of superiority. That the other suffers must be learned.— Malice does not aim at the suffering of the other in and of itself. that is. simply because we do not like its buzz. for self-preservation or simply to avoid discomfort. Is the immoral thing about it. Is the knowledge. we intentionally punish the criminal and do him harm. Thus a reward means only an encouragement. For in pity at least two (maybe many more) elements of personal pleasure are contained. the man who is rewarded does not deserve this reward. per se. in cruelty. we lie. when it is a matter of our existence or security (preservation of our well-being) is conceded to be moral. we reduce our own suffering by our acts of pity. but so they will not act . they are given to him because it is useful. But do we ever completely know how painful an action is to the other person? As far as our nervous system extends. then we must also accept nearly all expressions of so-called immoral egoism. Can there be a kind of intentional injury where it is not a matter of our existence. Of course. for him and others. To do injury intentionally. the struggle for pleasure is the struggle for life. if it extended further. A rewarding justice. For the man who is punished does not deserve the punishment: he is only being used as the means to frighten others away from certain future actions. We conclude by analogy that something hurts another. to preserve or protect ourselves. for example? If one does not know how painful an action is. he could not act other than as he did. likewise. One must say. rob or kill. but in that we feel pleasure in the action (feeling of our own power. exert and strain ourselves to be healthy). Whether the individual fights this battle in ways such that men call him good or such that they call him evil is determined by the measure and makeup of his intellect. it is the pleasure of the emotion (the kind of pity we find in tragedy) and second. But what difference remains between a toothache and the ache (pity) evoked by the sight of a toothache? That is. "The wise man punishes not because men have acted badly. our own strong excitement) the action takes place to preserve the well-being of the individual and thus falls within a point of view similar to that of self-defense or a white lie. if that consists in giving each his due. we protect ourselves from pain. in addition. Self-defense. the degree of pain produced is in any case unknown to us. there coincidence governs. it cannot be malicious. we would not do harm to anyone (except in such cases where we do it to ourselves. to provide a motive for subsequent actions: praise is shouted to the runner on the track not to the one who has reached the finish line. No life without pleasure. where cunning and dissimulation are the correct means of self-preservation. 105. the state itself injures from this point of view when it imposes punishment. Aside from a few philosophers." just as it was said. when we injure out of so-called malice. Neither punishment nor reward are due to anyone as his. there can be no immorality in unintentional injury. when it drives us to act. without his justly having any claims on them. a suffering person is very close to us. it is the pleasure of our satisfaction in the exercise of power.Pity does not aim at the pleasure of others any more than malice (as we said above) aims at the pain of others.— If we accept self-defense as moral. and through our memory and power of imagination we ourselves can feel ill at such a thought. that is. If. men have always placed pity rather low in the hierarchy of moral feelings—and rightly so. right into our fellow men. where we cut ourselves in order to cure ourselves. "The wise man rewards not because men have acted rightly.— The man who has fully understood the theory of complete irresponsibility can no longer include the socalled justice that punishes and rewards within the concept of justice. 104. thus the child is not malicious or evil to an animal: he examines and destroys it like a toy. we inflict harm. the preservation of our well-being? Can there be an injury out of pure malice. and it is to that extent self-enjoyment: first of all. to prevent personal disaster. calculating mind were there to take advantage of this interruption. if the wheel of the world were to stand still for a moment and an omniscient. pity. is satisfied in all circumstances: man may act as he can. Good actions are sublimated evil actions. knowledge. he may no longer praise. breakings of the waves. malice. for it is nonsensical to praise and blame nature and necessity. But this standard is continually in flux. we think we see freedom of will and choice in the innumerable turnings. In each society. in hindsight. have grown out of the same roots which are thought to hold the evil poisons. distinctions. at most. revenge. by which man determines his own actions and judges other people's actions. The acting man's delusion about himself. His powers of judgment determine where a man will let this demand for self-enjoyment take him. these have no more earned merit than do those inner struggles and crises in which a man is torn back and forth by various motives until he finally decides for the most powerful—as is said (in truth until the most powerful motive decides about us). the same advantage also requires that vanity continue. Thus it is with human actions. These pains are birth pangs. All his judgments.badly. the agony of the sick man who yearns for recovery. one would be able to calculate each individual action in advance. He can admire their strength. But all these motives. whether in deeds of vanity. windings. each act of malice.— When we see a waterfall. but he may not find any earned merit in them: chemical processes. To be sure. but everything is necessary. At the waterfall. because it can do nothing about itself.— The complete unaccountability of man for his actions and his nature is the bitterest draught the man of knowledge has to swallow if he has been accustomed to seeing in accountability and duty the patent of his humanity." If we were to dispense with punishment and reward. many actions are called evil. Just as he loves a good work of art. cunning. 106. a difference in degree. his assumption that free will exists. and the clash of elements. because the degree of intelligence which chose them was very low. usefulness. we would lose the strongest motives driving men away from certain actions and toward other actions. is also part of the calculable mechanism. all our behavior and judgments will appear as inadequate and rash as the behavior and judgments of backward savage tribes now seem to us inadequate and rash. for the highest degree of human intelligence which can now be attained will surely be surpassed. but afterwards there is consolation. Between good and evil actions there is no difference in type. each movement can be calculated mathematically. whatever great names we give them. abundance. no longer blame. or in deeds of sacrifice. in each individual. evil actions are good actions become coarse and stupid. as he must. blame and praise affect vanity most acutely. he rends it: . dislikes have thereby become worthless and wrong: the deepest feeling he had offered a victim or a hero was misdirected. he would be able to tell into the farthest future of each being and describe every rut that wheel will roll upon. And then. but does not praise it. in a certain sense all actions are stupid even now. beauty. The individual's only demand. To understand all this can cause great pain. The butterfly wants to break through his cocoon. for self-enjoyment (along with the fear of losing it). and are only stupid. if one were omniscient. a hierarchy of the good is always present. so he must regard the actions of men and his own actions. pleasure. Unaccountability and innocence. 107. the advantage of man requires that they continue. he tears at it. each step in the progress of knowledge. the acting man is caught in his illusion of volition. just as he regards a plant. each error. Indeed. that is. and in that punishment and reward. The more a person tends to reinterpret and justify. the fog is condensing more thickly than ever. we can overcome it either by removing its cause or else by changing the effect it has on our feelings. The twofold struggle against misfortune. In those individuals. with the aid of the tenet. he chastens") and in part by awakening a pleasure in pain. a momentary palliation and narcotization (as used. The more the rule of religions and all narcotic arts decreases. the less will he confront the causes of the misfortune and eliminate them. whose benefit may only later become clear. it will grow weaker under the influence of growing knowledge: a new habit. Everything is necessity: this is the new knowledge. but not the opposite of those to come. in emotion generally (which is where tragic art has its starting point). The Religious Life 108. and the brightest light and cloudiest dusk lie next to each other. egoism. the sense for true and just knowledge. vanity are necessary for the generation of moral phenomena and their greatest flower. Sorrow is knowledge. this is bad for the tragic poets (there being less and less material for tragedy. each . conscious of their guilt—these men are the necessary first stage. "Whom the Lord loves. that is. changeable. for example. invincible fate grows ever smaller) but it is even worse for the priests (for until now they fed on the narcotization of human misfortunes). If pleasure. that of understanding. and in thousands of years will be powerful enough perhaps to give mankind the strength to produce wise. the more squarely do men confront the real elimination of the misfortune—of course. hating continues to govern us. who is guardian and witness of each act. by reinterpreting the misfortune as a good. Everything is innocence: and knowledge is the way to insight into this innocence. and this knowledge itself is necessity. surveying is gradually being implanted in us on the same ground. non-loving.— How gladly one would exchange the false claims of priests-that there is a God who demands the Good from us. the sun of a new gospel is casting its first ray onto the highest mountaintop of the soul. Religion and art (as well as metaphysical philosophy) strive to effect a change in our feeling. loving. if error and confusion of imagination were the only means by which mankind could raise itself gradually to this degree of selfillumination and self-redemption—who could scorn those means? Who could be sad when he perceives the goal to which those paths lead? Everything in the sphere of morality has evolved.— When a misfortune strikes us. Men who are capable of that suffering (how few they will be!) will make the first attempt to see if mankind can transform itself from a moral into a knowing mankind . nonhating.then he is blinded and confused by the unknown light. the realm of freedom. it is true: but everything is also streaming onward—to one goal. III. innocent (conscious of their innocence) men as regularly as it now produces unwise. for a toothache) is also enough for him in more serious suffering. unfair men. Even if the inherited habit of erroneous esteeming. everything is fluid. 109. fluctuating. because the realm of inexorable. in part by changing the way we judge experiences (for example. without hopelessly soiling his intellectual conscience and abandoning it to himself and to others. Byron expressed this in his immortal lines: Sorrow is knowledge: they must mourn the deepest the tree of knowledge [Byron: Manfred. any degree of frivolity or melancholy is better than a romantic regression and desertion. and woe to him who would try to lead and no longer had that clean conscience! 110. for example. or this pine. each thought. Act I. so the masses would understand. In this way.. but without pains one cannot become a leader and educator of mankind. people did not do justice to the significance of religion.] who o'er is not know the that the fatal of most truth.— During the Enlightenment. even identity of views. inasmuch as all true modern science has always led to it instead of away from it. and no one would dare to profess it still today. sensitive. at least for the worst hours and eclipses of the soul. and ailing that we need the most potent kind of cures and comforts—hence arises the danger that man might bleed to death from the truth he has recognized. that age-old wisdom which is wisdom in and of itself. the development of mankind has made us so delicate. would obtain between mankind's oldest sages and all later ones. 11)] Of course. who loves us and wants the best for us in every misfortune—how gladly one would exchange these claims for truths which would be just as salutary.moment. But the tragic thing is that we can no longer believe those dogmas of religion and metaphysics. It was for science to divest this understanding of its dogmatic trappings in order to possess the "truth" in unmythical form. There is no better cure for such cares than to conjure up the festive frivolity of Horace. once we have the rigorous method of truth in our hearts and heads. for one can simply not engage in Christianity. an approach to Christianity in any form. and the progress of knowledge (should one wish to speak of such a thing) would refer not to its substance but rather to its communication. by treating religions with love or even infatuation. given the present state of knowledge. and yet on the other hand. there is no doubt of that. But it is just as certain that in the subsequent opposition to the Enlightenment they went a good piece beyond justice. which is unequal to it. life. philosophy can oppose those errors with other metaphysical fictions (basically also untruths).. this eloquence which rings out so loudly. As surely as one can gain much for the understanding of Christianity and other . even the very deepest understanding of the world. a harmony. and with him to say to yourself: quid aeternis minorem consiliis animum fatigas? cur non sub alta vel platano vel hac pinu jacentes— [why torment your mind. with counsel for eternity. Thus all opponents of the Enlightenment claimed that the religions stated sensu allegorico [with the sense of an allegorical representation]. calming. Truth in religion. Those pains may be distressing enough. at the most. a deeper. had not Schopenhauer used his eloquence to take it under his protection. and yet reaches its listeners only after a generation.? (Horace: Odes II. why not come and lie under this tall plane tree. Scene I. and soothing as those errors! But there are no such truths. and adjudging them to have. This whole view of religion and science is erroneous through and through. or at least under the old inherited power of that "metaphysical need. the existence of a god for example: the consensus gentium and hominum [unanimous opinion of all mankind] in general can in fairness only pertain to foolishness. then this would only be a counterargument to those things that were maintained. In this case. regard Always as fools. For out of fear and need each religion is born. although decked out as science. has religion yet held any truth . when endangered by science. in the innocence of their amazement. but this is a theologian's trick from the period when a religion is already doubting itself. with the words: Never. resembled them in the way children tend to resemble their mothers. as was his wont. Conversely there is no consensus omnium sapientium [unanimous opinion of all the wise] regarding a single thing. Incidentally. neither as a dogma nor as an allegory. Even more. auf Bessrung der Toren zu Kinder der Klugheit. he would have found it impossible to speak of the sensus allegoricus of religion. These tricks of theology. who all cherished romanticism and had renounced the spirit of the Enlightenment. creeping into existence on the byways of reason. Any philosophy that allows a religious comet to trail off ablaze into the darkness of its last prospects makes suspicious everything about itself that it presents as science. by the way. neither indirectly nor directly. and thus to the habit of granting their own religious feelings a significant influence on the conceptual structure of their systems. nod and agree with one It is foolish to wait for fools to grow Children of cleverness. wie sich's [All the wisest of all Smile. born into our present age. if all peoples were to agree about certain religious things." lines 3-7. the existence of a god for example (which." they arrived at dogmas that in fact greatly resembled Jewish or Christian or Indian religious doctrines. . Perhaps at one time. they led to the habit of philosophers (particularly those half-men. is not so in this case). the religion of a scholarly age.] Zeiten ein: harren! Narren gehört! time thing: wise! fools deserve! Saying it without rhythm or rhyme. and applying it to our case: it is the consensus sapientium that any consensus gentium is foolishness. it included some fabricated philosophical theory in its system.religions from Schopenhauer's religious and moral interpretation of men and the world. so that it could be found there later. the fathers weren't sure of the maternity (as can happen) but rather. presumably all this too is religion. as they —Goethe: "Kophtisches Lied. steeped in philosophy. he would have done honor to truth. rather. o habet die Eben zum Narren auch. with the exception spoken of in Goethe's lines: Alle die Weisesten aller der Lächeln und winken und stimmen mit Töricht. so surely was he in error about the value of religion with respect to knowledge. In reality there is no relationship nor friendship nor even enmity between religion and real science: they live on different stars. the poetic philosophers and the philosophizing artists) of treating all feelings which they found in themselves as if they were essential to man in general. Because philosophers often philosophized in traditional religious habits. which of course were practiced very early on in Christianity. however. In this regard he himself was simply the too tractable student of the scientific teachers of his time. led to that superstition about a sensus allegoricus. told tales of a family resemblance of all religions and sciences. All illnesses. by submissiveness. early tribal states. the success of all enterprises. and thus come finally to an enjoyment of our own selves. it is not the rowing that moves the ship. a seemingly superhuman level of existence. rather rowing is simply a magical ceremony by which one compels a demon to move it. by committing oneself to regular tributes and gifts. a mason his trowel. an enormous complex of arbitrariness. English historian]). it is also possible to exert pressure on the forces of nature. the more powerfully nature's symmetry affects him. are the result of magical influences. a carpenter makes sacrifices to his hammer. There is never anything natural about becoming ill or dying. we find them most strongly directed by law. With Goethe. calculable. that of his family.— If we imagine ourselves back in the times when religious life was in fullest flower. and because of which we see the gates to the religious life closed to us once and for all: it concerns nature and our interaction with it. we all recognize in nature the great means of soothing the modern soul.111. Formerly it was the reverse: if we think back to primitive. a soldier his weapons of battle. his happiness. an irrational hand and strength is always at work. To him nature—uncomprehended. one thinks first of subterranean demons and their mischief. or also fail to appear. Man is the rule. frightful. of choice. There is nothing outside ourselves about which we are allowed to conclude that it will become thus and so. the state. with the conception of a moira [fate] which reigned over the gods). How can one exercise an influence on these terrible unknowns? How can one bind the realm of freedom? The individual wonders and asks himself anxiously: "Is there no means. neither for the earth nor for the heavens is there a "must": a season. death itself. In the mind of religious men. Now. the rain can come. We present-day men experience precisely the reverse: the richer a man feels inwardly. Origin of the religious cult. People in those times do not yet know anything of natural laws. in a very late phase of mankind. When one rows. his axe. or if we closely observe present-day savages. the religious cult is the result of this thinking. through tradition and law. all nature is the sum of the actions of conscious and intentioned beings. of a higher power. must be thus and so: we ourselves are what is more or less certain. and in short. religiously productive ancient cultures. the whole idea of a "natural development" is lacking (it first begins to dawn on the older Greeks. By entreaties and prayers. it has to be the arrow of a god whose invisible influence causes a man to drop suddenly. a god. and guide its actions (as they relate to the weaker tribe)? At first one will be reminded of the most harmless kind of pressure. a worker his plow. by flattering glorifications. if springs suddenly dry up. to make those powers as governed by rule as you are yourself?" The thinking of men who believe in magic and miracles is bent on imposing a law on nature. direct it. the sunshine. There is no concept whatsoever of natural causality. to become settled and still. depends on those arbitrary acts of nature: some natural events must take place at the right time. and moves with the uniformity of a pendulum. and his other tools. every individual in those times and conditions feels that his existence. the more polyphonic he is as a subject. we find a fundamental conviction which we no longer share. that pressure one exerts when one has courted someone's affections. When someone shoots with bow and arrow. in the same way does a Brahman handle the pencil with which he writes. by making them favorably inclined: love binds and is . as if we could drink this symmetry into ourselves. nature is irregularity: in this tenet lies the basic conviction that governs primitive. In India (according to Lubbock [Sir John Lubbock (1834-1913). by tradition: the individual is almost automatically bound to it. we hear the stroke of the greatest clock with a longing to rest. mysterious nature—must seem to be the realm of freedom. that is. others must fail to take place. The problem that those men set themselves is most closely related to this one: how can the weaker tribe nevertheless dictate laws to the stronger. particularly the great cycle of the seasons. shows us how some feelings are disappearing: the sensibility that this is a possible mixture is vanishing. for the basic assumption is that there is something physical to everything spiritual. of bestowal of pledges. 112. in festivals of Demeter and Dionysos. if there is a block of stone lying on a lonely heath." In Catholic lands. which she does not have at the start . of contracts between enemies. But it is likewise based on other and more noble ideas. But even we . they need not be ashamed before one another. hearing supplicants. thus the stone must have moved itself there. A stone that starts to roll suddenly is the body in which a spirit acts. he is not necessarily her involuntary servant: in the Greek stage of religion. whereas in present times. The physical furnishes the ways and means by which to catch the spiritual. enchainment and the like). The meaning of the religious cult is to direct nature. with religious feeling. so that one thinks he is guaranteeing the favorable course of the whole process of nature.bound. by which it can be caught." they say. and the magician is older than the priest. there is the thought of a coexistence of two castes. On viewing certain ancient sacrificial utensils. with its help one can bind the spirit. then one can also exert direct pressure against him (by refusing him sacrificial nourishment. by which one commits oneself reciprocally to certain behavior. systematize them. we understand only historically that it once existed. even obscenity. the seed from which it sprang: this puzzling juxtaposition seems to prove that one and the same spirit is embedded in both forms. In short.— The combination of farce. now big. the humble people in China entwine his image with rope. to impose a lawfulness on her. and yet you are so ungrateful. it must be housing a spirit. even his picture or his name. it seems impossible that human strength should have brought it there. we covered you prettily in gold. Everything that has a body is accessible to magic. for the spirit too has its physical aspect. who has left them in the lurch. hair. some food from his table. To exact the wanting favor of their god. If a god is virtually bound to his image. sacrificed to you. That is the noble element in Greek religiosity. one tries to order them. man wishes to understand the lawfulness of nature in order to submit to it. so the weaker man believes he can also direct the more powerful spirits of nature. and cast a spell on her to human advantage. the religious cult is based on ideas of magic between man and man. one nobler and more powerful. the existence of goodwill. including spirits of nature. With such apparatus one can then proceed to do magic. The main means of all magic is to gain power over something that belongs to the other. drag it in the streets through heaps of mud and dung: "You dog of a spirit. of demand for protection of property. similar violent measures have also been taken during this century against images of saints or of the Virgin Mary when during plagues or droughts. The tree and. Then one can seal contracts. so he also directs some one spirit of nature. man does not confront nature as a powerless slave. that is. fed you well. for example. just as love spells are effective from afar. All these magical relationships to nature have called into being countless ceremonies. by flagellation. But much more important is a kind of more powerful pressure through magic. tear it down. by a parallel course of a system of proceedings. "we let you dwell in a splendid temple. especially in the relationship to the Olympian gods. now little. compared with it. Even in very primitive stages of culture. nails. at Christian passion plays and mystery plays. destroy it. Just as man now directs man. they did not want to do their duty. but according to their origin both belong together somehow and are of one kind. harm it. the other less noble. Just as man knows how to use the help of a magician to hurt a stronger enemy and keep him afraid. it presumes a sympathetic relationship of man to man. puts up pledges and exchanges vows. that is. finally when the confusion of them has grown too great. gratitude. not a contrast to their own nature. Asiatic.— The Greeks did not see the Homeric gods above them as masters and themselves below them as servants. un-Hellenic. and thought for a moment that he carried all of heaven within him. an ideal. all at once. it allowed the light of divine compassion to shine.— There are sober and efficient men on whom religion is embroidered like the hem of a higher humanity. shatter. Christianity wants to destroy. Certainly the Christian religion is an antiquity projected into our times from remote prehistory. and the fact that the claim is believed—whereas one is otherwise so strict in examining pretensions—is perhaps the most ancient piece of this heritage. sins perpetrated against a god. into his feeling of complete confusion. They felt related to them. that is. toward the deep corruption of head and heart necessary for it. there was a reciprocal interest. fear of a beyond to which death is the portal. and for this reason. prayers for miraculous interventions. the form of the cross as a symbol in a time that no longer knows the function and ignominy of the cross—how ghoulishly all this touches us. and submerged him as if in deep mire. with continual fearfulness about evil and capricious powers and tormentors. crucified 2000 years ago. as it were. Where the Olympian gods retreated. for example. intoxicate: there is only one thing it does not want: moderation. a kind of symmachia. . and puts himself into a relationship similar to that of the lesser nobility to the higher. a justice that accepts the innocent as a vicarious sacrifice. on the other hand. Then.— When we hear the ancient bells growling on a Sunday morning we ask ourselves: Is it really possible! This. so that the surprised man. atoned for by a god. who said he was God's son? The proof of such a claim is lacking. stun. the sentimental blended with the ludicrous—and this a later age will perhaps no longer understand. Christianity. let out a cry of rapture. as did the Jews. 113. have no more courts. as if from the tomb of a primeval past! Can one believe that such things are still believed? 114. there Greek life too grew gloomier and more fearful. crushed and shattered man completely. someone who orders his disciples to drink his blood. Being religious to one's advantage. What is un-Hellenic in Christianity. These men do well to remain religious: it beautifies them. for here servility takes on the appearance of a Christian virtue and is surprisingly beautified. religion is very useful. 115. a sage who bids men work no more. All psychological inventions of Christianity work toward this sick excess of feeling. They saw. only the reflection of the most successful specimens of their own caste. it is in its deepest meaning barbaric. All men who have no expertise with any weapon (mouth and pen counting as weapons) become servile: for such men. A god who begets children with a mortal woman. Whereas the Italic peoples have a regular peasant religion. stunned by mercy. for a Jew. Christianity and antiquity. but look for the signs of the impending end of the world. ignoble. Man thinks of himself as noble when he gives himself such gods.are still familiar with the sublime in league with the burlesque. — An agreeable opinion is accepted as true: this is the proof by pleasure (or. whereas they ought to be ashamed. they have no right to demand religiosity from those whose daily life does not pass in emptiness and monotony. 116.— Christianity came into existence in order to lighten the heart.— As soon as a religion comes to dominate it has as its opponents all those who would have been its first disciples. If the belief did not make us happy. overcast with religious shadows." the Christian tells himself. On the shrewdness of Christianity . Proof by pleasure. then the everyday Christian cuts a miserable figure. that all religions are so proud of. he is a man who really cannot count to three. I am the one who is in all ways unworthy and despicable. the proof by strength). however. it would not be believed: how little must it then be worth! 121. sinfulness. Change of cast.People who think their daily lives too empty and monotonous easily become religious: this is understandable and forgivable. apostle or hermit and. If we may assume that these things are at any rate believed true. it would be a sign of weak-mindedness and lack of character not to become a priest.— If the Christian dogmas of a revengeful God universal sinfulness election by divine grace and the danger of eternal damnation were true. he is essentially no different from me. But this feeling too has lost its sharpest sting because the Christian does not believe in his individual despicableness: he is wicked simply because he is a man. Dangerous game. 118. and despicableness of man in general so loudly that disdain for one's fellow men becomes impossible. but now it has first to burden the heart so as afterwards to be able to lighten it. and who precisely on account of his spiritual imbecility does not deserve to be punished so harshly as Christianity promises to punish him. "Let him sin as he will. as the church says. Then his nature gradually changes: it favors that which is dependent on or near to the religious element.— Whoever allows room in himself again for religious feeling these days must also allow it to grow: he cannot do otherwise. Destiny of Christianity. and calms himself a bit with the tenet: we are all of one kind. to work solely on one's own salvation. 119. 117. in fear and trembling. it would be senseless to lose sight of ones eternal advantage for the sake of temporal comfort. the whole range of his judgment and feeling is befogged. The everyday Christian.— It is a trick of Christianity to teach the utter worthlessness. Feeling cannot stand still: be on your guard! . Consequently it shall perish. 120. pays no attention to the weaknesses of a teaching. based on deep-rooted religious and psychological errors. The pupil and apostle who. terrifying dream. that is. that is. his art. which he explains in accordance with his prevailing moral thinking. Blind pupils. crude. as well as Shakespeare and Goethe. a religion. man is always the child per se. but when he opens his eyes. which. To help a perception to achieve victory often means merely to unite it with stupidity so intimately that the weight of the latter also enforces the victory of the former. in part horrible superstition) and dealt as freely as a sculptor with his clay. One of the greatest effects of men whom we call geniuses and saints is that they exact interpreters who misunderstand them.— Homer is so at home among his gods. 126.122. The influence of a man has never yet grown great without his blind pupils. and which in more recent times has distinguished the great artists of the Renaissance. horrors. exhaustions and raptures of the saint are familiar states of illness. he always finds himself in paradise again. blinded by the authority of the master and by the piety he feels toward him. Sinlessness of man. . Art and strength of false interpretation . ambition. he simply interprets otherwise. then his whole mood is greatly improved. to the good of mankind. and soon usually has for that reason more power than the master. He took what popular belief offered him (a paltry. 124. 123. Demolition of churches. 127. not as illnesses. but other than how it would be explained today.— There is not enough religion in the world even to destroy religions.— As long as a man knows very well the strength and weaknesses of his teaching. Amid nature. This child might once dream an oppressive. Thus the daemon of Socrates likewise is perhaps a disease of the ear. with the same openness Aeschylus and Aristophanes possessed. through errors of reason. It is no different with the madness and ravings of prophets and oracular priests: it is always the degree of knowledge. its power is still slight. and takes such delight in them as a poet that he surely must have been deeply irreligious. 125. due to which men take each other—and the individual takes himself for much blacker and more wicked than is actually the case). his religion. and men and world seem at times to be in such a halo of harmlessness as to make him utterly contented.— Once man has grasped "how sin came into the world" (which is to say.— All the visions. morality in the head and heart of the interpreters that has made so much out of them. imagination. Irreligiosity of artists. a kind of eternal happiness: to be sure. Scientific philosophy has to be very careful about smuggling in errors on the basis of that need (an acquired and. growing. the intuition "that the essence of things is one"). 131. 129.— Modern science has as its goal the least pain and the longest life possible—that is. as if a miracle were in the making. rational thinking. Hunger does not prove that any food to satisfy it exists. Between painstakingly deduced truths and such "intuited" things there remains the unbridgeable gap that the former are due to the intellect. And if a philosophy shows us the justification of metaphysical hopes. Forbidden generosity. speaks of the "whole.— There is not enough love and goodness in the world for us to be permitted to give any of it away to imaginary things. Even logicians speak of "intuitions" of truth in morality and art (for example. commanded the whole range of means by which man is set into unusual moods and torn away from the cold calculation of his advantage. restrained invocations of a priestly host that instantaneously transmits its tension to the congregation so that it listens almost fearfully. extends into the indefinite and makes one fear the movings of the divinity in all its dark spaces—who would want to return such goings-on to man. This is based on a false conclusion. certain gospel in the glance of Raphael's Madonna. tender. intuitive. what he wants to give accords with a heart that gladly takes. also transitory need). he has not lost it to the degree that he would not enjoy encountering religious feelings and moods without any conceptual content as.— Because it was observed that an excited state would often clear the mind and produce happy ideas. Continuance of the religious cult in the heart . it was thought that through the states of greatest excitement one would partake of the happiest ideas and inspirations. Here it is easier for the philosopher to make his proofs. but know very well the magic of religious feeling. We notice here how less careful free thinkers actually object only to the dogmas. Religious aftereffects. regular. once the assumptions for them are no longer believed? Nevertheless. a very modest kind in comparison with the promises of religions. the results of all that have not been lost: the inner world of sublime. Promises of science. for example. and. for example. what now exists of it in the soul was raised at the time of its sprouting. and flowering. A church reverberating with deep sounds." then we approach such statements and explanations with an especially warm disposition. or pure. consequently. 130. And so the madman was revered as the wise man and oracle giver. it hurts them to let the latter go. but it wishes the . deeply contrite. of a deep peace of the soul to be attained therefrom. for the sake of the former. muted. the atmosphere of the architecture that.— The Catholic Church.Reverence for madness. blissfully hopeful moods was begotten in man primarily through the religious cult. the latter to need. as the dwelling of a divinity. which should be forbidden them. and before it all the cults of antiquity.— However much one thinks he has lost the habit of religion. in music. 128. those that are generally esteemed to be the topmost and highest. which by its prospect of an immeasurable duration of punishment. in that it hovers in his imagination as a punishing justice. Of course. that what gladdens might be also true. Protestant theologian] allows us to assume. his own nature appears so clouded. Next." Undeterred by such predecessors. in that one wishes or fears it. This wish misleads us into buying bad reasons as good ones. who were to gain a new anchor. This condition would not be felt so bitterly if man would only compare himself dispassionately to other men. Who helps him in this danger. a purely psychological one. as the spirit of its founder Schleiermacher [Frederich Schleiermacher (1768-1834). a tendency that seems to him almost as unchangeable as his whole nature. in fact. in every possible experience. so abnormally distorted. or the consequences of those actions. and he even thinks he has a presentiment of the whiplashes it will deliver as judge and executioner. which is said to follow a selfless way of thinking! But unfortunately it does not go beyond this wish: the dissatisfaction about being unable to satisfy the wish is added to all the other kinds of dissatisfaction that his lot in life generally. "free theology" was aiming at the preservation of the Christian religion and the continuance of Christian theologists. "To intuit" does not mean to recognize the existence of a thing to any extent. surpasses in horror all other terrors of the imagination? 133. and above all a new occupation.food. we want to avow that man has arrived at this condition not through his "guilt" and "sin. On the Christian need for redemption. large or small. we venture to present the following interpretation of the phenomenon in question. but rather to hold it to be possible. have aroused in him. that is. we simply have the inner wish that it might be so—that is. How he would like to try his luck in that other category of actions. then he would have no reason to be dissatisfied with himself to any special degree. We believe instinctively that the religiously tinged sections of a philosophy are better proved than the others. for from the start. how he would like to feel full of a good consciousness. he would only be sharing the common burden of human dissatisfaction and imperfection. in the psychological analysis of religious "facts. an explanation that is free of mythology. But basically it is the reverse. he discovers within himself a tendency to these kinds of actions. Man is conscious of certain actions that rank low in the customary hierarachy of actions. Because he is looking into this bright mirror." but rather through a series of errors . But he compares himself to a being who is solely capable of those actions called selfless and who lives in the continual consciousness of a selfless way of thinking: God. Thus he develops a deep discontent and searches for a doctor who might be able to put an end to this discontent and all its causes. the thought of this other being makes him fearful. Before we present the further consequences of this condition. 132.— If we reflect carefully. "Intuition" takes us not one step farther into the land of certainty. in that a theology that calls itself free has been up to its bootless mischief in this area. termed evil. its menace. until now psychological explanations of religious states and processes have been in some disrepute. he thinks he recognizes its anger. it ought to be possible to arrive at an explanation for the process in a Christian's soul that is called the need for redemption. of remorse. and without any personal motivation. that life for his sake.of reason. how could he do anything that had no reference to himself. and with insight into that origin. to be sure. but rather the agreeable feelings that they give us. or the fear of men's disrespect. Then what probably remains is that discontent which is very intimately bound up with and related to the fear of punishment by a secular justice. does not . as La Rochefoucauld says. as a stain on a creature consecrated to God. those vestiges of the pangs of conscience disappear. nothing for himself. it assumes the other person is egoist enough to accept those sacrifices. of displeasure generally. It cannot even be imagined clearly because from the start the whole concept of "selfless action. any being who would be capable of purely selfless actions only is more fabulous than the phoenix. First. but discontent from the pangs of conscience. unscientific interpretation of his actions and feelings. as is occasionally assumed. too. come to feel self-contempt through certain errors. in order to endure. Indeed. evaporates into the air. Furthermore. The Christian who compares his nature to God is like Don Quixote. human statutes and regulations. namely because of their usefulness rather than their essence. but given the present state of comparative ethnology. who underestimates his own bravery because he is preoccupied with the miraculous deeds of heroes out of chivalric novels. The principle sounds harsh. and that that mirror was his creation. which should remind us of a thought of Lichtenberg's." ["if we believe we love our mistress for love of her we are very much mistaken"] For the explanation of why actions of love are evaluated more highly than others. if it is only understood correctly. with no inner compulsion (which would have to be based on a personal need)? How could the ego act without ego? A God who conversely is all love. see the above-mentioned investigations On the Origin of the Moral Sensations. But if a man should want to embody Love. If in the end man succeeds in convincing himself philosophically that all actions are unconditionally necessary and completely irresponsible. it is already impossible from the start. has been stopped short when one perceives that through one's actions one may have transgressed against human tradition. from a more common sphere: "It is impossible for us to feel for others. taken. that if his nature seemed dark and hateful to him to that degree. and if he takes this conviction into his flesh and blood. the idea of a God disturbs and humiliates as long as it is believed. the standard of measure being used belongs to the realm of fable. on est bien trompé. but it is not. but that one has not yet jeopardized the "eternal salvation of the soul" and its relation to the divinity. But if the idea of God disappears. as we said. its origin can no longer be in doubt. as the saying goes. through a false. to be sure. in both cases. that is. If the Christian has. We love neither father nor mother nor wife nor child. the belief disappears. he must notice with the greatest astonishment how that condition of contempt. it would cancel itself out). 134. and the highest morality. "si on croit aimer sa maîtresse pour l'amour d'elle." Or. Next. would have virtually to compel the existence of immorality (by which. over and over again: so men of love and self-sacrifice have an interest in the continued existence of loveless egoists incapable of self-sacrifice. so too does the feeling of "sin" as a transgression against divine precepts. quite like that God. would not be capable of one single selfless action. it was the fault of the mirror. because he has to do a great deal for himself in order to be able to do anything at all for the sake of others. Never has a man done anything that was only for others. the sharpest sting in the feeling of guilt." if carefully examined. to do everything for others. We feel only for ourselves. the very imperfect creation of human imagination and powers of judgment. last; how occasionally there are .hours when it is all blown away from his soul and he feels free and courageous again. In truth, pleasure in oneself and contentment with one's own strength, in league with the inevitable weakening of any great excitation, have gained the victory: man loves himself again; he feels it—but this very love, this new self-esteem, seems unbelievable to him; he can see in it only the wholly undeserved downpouring of a merciful light from above. If he previously thought he saw warnings, threats, punishments, and every kind of sign of divine anger in all occurrences, so now he reads divine goodness into his experiences: one event seems to be loving, another seems to be a helpful hint, a third, and particularly his whole joyful mood, seems to be proof that God is merciful. As previously, in a state of discontent, he interpreted his actions wrongly, so now he misinterprets his experiences. He understands his mood as the consoling effect of a power governing outside himself; the love with which he fundamentally loves himself, appears as divine love; that which he calls mercy and a prelude to redemption is in truth self-pardon, self-redemption. 135. Thus a certain false psychology, a certain kind of fantasy in interpreting motives and experiences, is the necessary prerequisite for becoming a Christian and experiencing the need for redemption. With the insight into this aberration of reason and imagination, one ceases to be a Christian. 136. Of Christian asceticism and holiness .— However much individual thinkers have tried to represent the rare manifestations of morality that tend to be called asceticism and holiness as something miraculous, which to examine in the light of a rational explanation would be almost sacrilege and profanation, so strong, on the other hand, is the temptation to this sacrilege. Throughout history, a powerful impulse of nature has led men to protest generally against those manifestations; science to the extent it is, as we have said, an imitation of nature, permits itself to protest at least against the claim of their inexplicability, even inaccessibility. To be sure, it has not yet been successful; those manifestations are still unexplained, to the great delight of the above-mentioned admirers of the morally miraculous. For in general, the unexplained should be thoroughly inexplicable, the inexplicable thoroughly unnatural, supernatural, miraculous—so goes the demand in the souls of all religious men and metaphysicians (artists, too, if they are also thinkers). Whereas the scientific man sees in this demand the "evil principle." The general, first probability one arrives at when considering asceticism and holiness is that their nature is complex: for almost everywhere, within both the physical and the moral world, the ostensibly miraculous has been successfully traced back to complicated and multiplyconditioned causes. Let us venture first to isolate certain impulses in the souls of saints and ascetics, and in conclusion to imagine them entwined. 137. There exists a defiance of oneself that includes among its most sublime expressions various forms of asceticism. For some men have such an intense need to exercise their strength and love of power that, lacking other objects or because they have always otherwise failed, it finally occurs to them to tyrannize certain parts of their own being, as if they were sections or stages of their selves. Thus some thinkers will confess to views that clearly do not serve to increase or improve their reputation; some virtually beg to be despised by others, whereas it would be easy for them to retain respect by being silent. Others retract earlier opinions and are not afraid to be called inconsistent thereafter; on the contrary, that is what they try for, behaving like high-spirited horsemen who like their horse best only when it has become wild, skittish, covered with sweat. Thus man climbs on dangerous paths into the highest mountains in order to mock his own fearfulness and his shaking knees; thus the philosopher confesses to views of asceticism, humility and holiness, by which light his own image is most grievously made ugly. This shattering of oneself, this scorn for one's own nature, this spernere se sperni ["answer contempt with contempt"], which religions have made so much out of, is actually a very high degree of vanity. The whole morality of the Sermon on the Mount belongs here; man takes. a truly voluptuous pleasure in violating himself by exaggerated demands and then deifying this something in his soul that is so tyrannically taxing. In each ascetic morality, man prays to one part of himself as a god and also finds it necessary to diabolize the rest. — 138. Man is not equally moral at all times—this is well known. If one judges his morality by his capacity for great sacrificial resolve and self-denial (which, when it has become constant and habitual, is holiness), man is most moral in affect; greater excitation offers him new motives, which he, when sober and cool as usual, perhaps did not think himself capable of. How can this be? Probably because of the relatedness of everything great and highly exciting: once man has been brought into a state of extraordinary tension, he can decide as easily to take frightful revenge as to make a frightful break with his need for revenge. Under the influence of the powerful emotion, he wants in any event what is great, powerful, enormous, and if he notices by chance that to sacrifice his own self satisfies as well or better than to sacrifice the other person, then he chooses that. Actually, all he cares about is the release of his emotion; to relieve his tension, he may gather together his enemies' spears and bury them in his own breast. Mankind had to be educated through long habituation to the idea that there is something great in self-denial, and not only in revenge; a divinity that sacrifices itself was the strongest and most effective symbol of this kind of greatness. The triumph over the enemy hardest to conquer, the sudden mastery of an emotion: that is how this denial appeared; and to this extent it counted as the height of morality. In truth, it has to do with the exchange of one idea for another, while the heart remains at the same pitch, the same volume. Men who have sobered up and are resting from an emotion no longer understand the morality of those moments, but the admiration of all who witnessed in them supports these men; pride consoles them, when the emotion and the understanding for their deed have faded. Thus those acts of self-denial are basically not moral either, insofar as they are not done strictly with regard for other people; rather the other person simply offers the tense heart an opportunity to relieve itself, by that self-denial. 139. In some respects, the ascetic too is trying to make life easy for himself, usually by completely subordinating himself to the will of another or to a comprehensive law and ritual, rather in the way the Brahman leaves absolutely nothing to his own determination, but determines himself at each minute by a holy precept. This subordination is a powerful means of becoming master of oneself; one is occupied, that is, free of boredom, and yet has no willful or passionate impulse; after a deed is completed, there is no feeling of responsibility, and therefore no agony of regret. One has renounced his own will once and for all, and this is easier than to renounce it only occasionally, just as it is easier to give up a desire entirely than to moderate it. If we remember man's, present attitude towards the state, we find there too that an unqualified obedience is more convenient than a qualified one. The saint, then, makes his life easier by that complete abandonment of his personality, and a man is fooling himself when he admires that phenomenon as the most heroic feat of morality. In any event, it is harder to assert one's personality without vacillation or confusion than to free oneself from it in the manner described; it also takes much more intellect and thought. 140. After having discovered in many of the more inexplicable actions, expressions of that pleasure in emotion per se, I would also discern in self-contempt (which is one of the signs of saintliness) and likewise in self-tormenting behavior (starvation and scourges, dislocation of limbs, simulated madness) a means by which those natures combat the general exhaustion of their life-force (of their nerves): they use the most painful stimulants and horrors in order to emerge, for a time at least, from that dullness and boredom into which their great spiritual indolence and that subordination to a foreign will described above have so often let them sink. 141. The most common means that the ascetic and saint uses in order to make his life more bearable and entertaining consists in occasionally waging war and alternating victory and defeat. To do this he needs an opponent, and finds him in the so-called "inner enemy." He exploits particularly his tendency to vanity, ambition, and love of power, as well as his sensual desires, to allow himself to see his life as a continuing battle and himself as the battlefield on which good and evil spirits struggle, with alternating results. It is well known that regularity of sexual intercourse moderates the sensual imagination, even almost suppresses it and, conversely, that it is unleashed and made dissolute by abstinence or irregularity in intercourse. Many Christian saints' imaginations were exceedingly dirty; thanks to their theory that these desires were real demons who raged in them, they did not feel very responsible; to this feeling of irresponsibility, we owe the so instructive honesty of their confessions. It was in their interest that the battle always be entertained to some degree, for, as we said, their bleak life was entertained by it. But in order that the battle appear important enough to arouse continuing interest and admiration in the nonsaints, sensuality had to be more and more calumniated and branded; indeed, the danger of eternal damnation became so closely linked to these things that quite probably for whole generations, Christians conceived children with a bad conscience, indubitably doing great harm to mankind. And yet truth is standing on its head here, which is especially unseemly for truth. To be sure, Christianity had said that each man is conceived and born in sin, and in the insufferable superlative Christianity of Caldéron [Pedro Caldéron de la Barca (1600-82): Spanish dramatist] this thought had been knotted together and tangled up once again, so that he ventured the craziest paradox there can be, in the well-known lines: the greatest is that he was born. guilt of man In all pessimistic religions, the act of procreation is felt to be bad per'se, but this feeling is by no means a general, human one; not even the judgment of all pessimists is the same on this point. Empedocles, for example, knows nothing of shame, devil, sin in all things erotic; rather, on the great meadow of calamity, he sees one single salutary and hopeful apparition: Aphrodite. For him she is the guarantee that strife will not prevail indefinitely, but will where everyone used to think he perceived. it is only the consequence of opinions about things. this enemy took flight forever. after it had itself grown indifferent even to the sight of animal and human contests. which we have already discussed. in vacillation up and down. to yield to it. but rather that he feel as sinful as possible. which was performed on that border between this world and the afterworld. supernatural beings. animate. they needed an ever-active and generally recognized enemy. It is the device of religion. as we said. as a consequence of their way of life and their destroyed health. entertained their brooding minds as finely as the alternation of desire and serenity. When finally. since he cannot take off the dress of nature. enters the scene. To look at. why should he have produced such an idea and been attached to it for so long? As in the ancient world an immeasurable strength of spirit and inventiveness was employed to increase joy in life through ceremonial worship. If man had not found this feeling agreeable. inspire at all costs—is that not the watchword of an enervated. he sought out fear for the salvation of his soul. The eye of the saint. And yet this suffering about the natural is in the reality of things totally unfounded. focused on the imminence of the final decision about an endless new life to come. despair about his own strength. this burnt-out eye. the need for redemption. not actually for the many to imitate. 142. Everything natural. At that time psychology served not only to throw suspicion on everything human. lacking confidence. until the feverish soul shivers aglow and chilled this was the last pleasure which the ancient world invented. the intention is not that he become more moral. in a half-wasted body. animated. sinfulness (as is still his habit in regard to the erotic. after a long life of nature. but also to revile it. they knew at once how to see their inner self populated by new demons. so in the age of Christianity an equally immeasurable amount of spirit has been offered up to a different striving: man was to feel sinful in all ways and excited. to which man attaches the idea of badness. for the loneliness and spiritual desolation of their lives. for example) burdens him. inspired thereby. even his dreams acquire the flavor of his troubled conscience. by opposing and conquering whom they again and again portrayed themselves to the unsaintly as half-incomprehensible. to have him cast suspicion on nature and to make himself bad. to crucify it. for he learns thus to experience himself as bad. overripe. They presented themselves to everyone. then the saint and ascetic invented a new category of lifestimuli. The scales of arrogance and humility. he feels so oppressed by such a burden of sins that supernatural powers become necessary to lift this burden. clouds his imagination.eventually give the scepter to a gentler daemon. It is easy to see how men become worse by labeling the unavoidably natural as bad and later feeling it to be so constituted. lets him quarrel with himself and makes him unsure. the soul had grown tired of them. focused on the meaning of a short earthly life. to scourge it. and of those metaphysicians who want to think of man as evil and sinful by nature. now eerie tongues of flame glowing up from the depths. now heavenly gleams of light. but rather as a frightening and yet delightful spectacle. overcultivated age? The circle of all natural feelings had been run through a hundred times. and with that. to sense again the fascination of the spectacle. Gradually. made men of the old world tremble to their depths. had an interest in seeing a different opinion in power. to look away from with a shudder. . frightful in every way. Excite. If one goes through the individual moral statements of the documents of Christianity. corresponding to no real sinfulness but rather only to an imagined one. Practicing Christian pessimists. makes his glance timid. have one's fill of it. one will find everywhere that the demands have been exaggerated so that man cannot satisfy them. man wanted to consider himself as bad and evil as possible. whether by their great gentleness and benevolence. He himself did not know himself. conversations with the dead. even in the idea of being lost. the shadowy figure of the saint grew to enormous size. he acquired the extraordinary strength with which he could control the imagination of whole peoples. sometimes he seep out battle and provokes it in himself." 143. animal-like or vegetative indolence. and even less an especially wise man. 144. can be opposed by other portraits that might result in a more favorable impression. The queer. he knows how to set a trap for his emotions. irritating feelings. it is basically a rare form of voluptuousness that he desires. for example. they show themselves in different colors and then tend to suffer men's censure as intensely as. He scourges his self-deification with self-contempt and cruelty. pronounces the whole secret with naive joy: "It is a wonder indeed that the association of voluptuousness. overstimulated nerves. or evolving saint. under the influence of other than religious ideas. gives him his value in world-history.To sum up what we have said: that disposition which the saint. by experience and instinct one of the authorities in questions of saintliness. But he signified something that was to surpass human proportions in goodness and wisdom. he himself understood the script of his moods. so that it changes over into the emotion of the most extreme humiliation. By the evening light of the apocalyptic sun that shone over the Christian peoples. were as hidden from his eye as from the eye of the onlooker. but that which he signifies in the minds of nonsaints. and his agitated soul is pulled to pieces by this contrast. interpreting his inner states incorrectly and divorcing him from themselves as radically as possible as something completely beyond compare and strangely superhuman. Belief in him supported the belief in the divine and the miraculous. powerfully driven by a proud soul. because boredom holds its yawning visage up to him. religion and cruelty has not long ago made men take notice of their intimate relationship and common intention. or with divine beings. or by the magic of their unusual energy. coupled as they were with spiritual poverty. However. for his most extreme love of power. inclinations. indeed to such a height that even in our time. Novalis. in an imminent Judgment Day. inadequate knowledge. ruined health. Because people were mistaken about him. which is sketched according to the average member of the whole type. they can count on admiration. And finally. perhaps that voluptuousness in which all others are wound together in one knot. others are attractive in . when he yearns for visions. Sometimes he wants the complete cessation of all bothersome. a continuing repose in the lap of a dull. enjoys is constituted of elements that we all know quite well. which no longer believes in God. in a religious meaning of all existence. and in the sharp pain of sin. whole ages. sometimes his bloated sensibility leaps from the longing to give his passions free rein to the longing to make them collapse like wild stallions. sick elements in his nature. Isolated exceptions to this type stand out. It is self-evident that this portrait of the saint. when decorated by religion and the ultimate questions of existence. a waking sleep. which is a close relative of the love of power. he takes pleasure in the wild uprising of his desires. Sometimes the saint exercises a defiance against himself. tormenting. He was not an especially good man. Not that which the saint is. there are still plenty of thinkers who believe in the saint. and which gives even the most solitary man a feeling of power. actions by an interpretive art which was as exaggerated and artificial as the pneumatical interpretation of the Bible. even worship—or at least they could count on it in earlier times. who are an intermediate stage between the Christian saint and the Greek philosopher. Here we are probably still standing under the aftereffect of . so that through a fantasy (which one should not judge too harshly. From the Souls of Artists and Writers 145.the highest degree because certain delusions diffuse streams of light over their whole being. IV. What is perfect is supposed not to have become . who thought he was God's only begotten son. as for example is the case with the famous founder of Christianity. and to that extent do not represent a pure type. utter freedom from responsibility—a feeling that everyone can now attain through science. because the whole ancient world is aswarm with sons of gods) he reached the same goal: the feeling of utter sinlessness. science (as far as there was one).— In the case of everything perfect we are accustomed to abstain from asking how it became: we rejoice in the present fact as though it came out of the ground by magic. I have also left out the Indian holy men. superiority to other men by logical discipline and training of thought as a sign of sainthood. and therefore without sin. Buddhists demanded knowledge. as much as the same qualities are rejected and calumniated as a sign of unholiness in the Christian world. the sense of the symbolical. only a phantom-life that results therefrom. however simple this may appear. There are. Poets as the lighteners of life . We still almost feel (for example in a Greek temple such as that at Paestum) that a god must one morning have playfully constructed his dwelling out of these tremendous weights: at other times that a stone suddenly acquired by magic a soul that is now trying to speak out of it. when it accomplishes this task it weaves a rope round the ages and causes their spirits to return. the fantastical. this is his glory and his limitation. the over-valuation of personality. certain drawbacks to their means of lightening life—they appease and heal only temporarily. the continuance of his art of creation as more important than the scientific devotion to truth in every shape. inasmuch as they desire to lighten the life of man. only for the moment. 148. He is apparently fighting for the higher worthiness and meaning of mankind. a belief that it came into being with a miraculous suddenness. Unconsciously it becomes his mission to make mankind more childlike. they even . or assist the present to acquire new colours by means of a life which they cause to shine out of the past. The artist knows that his work produces its full effect when it excites a belief in an improvisation. therefore. To be able to do this. at least. and so he may assist this illusion and introduce these elements of rapturous restlessness. and defends himself against temperate and simple methods and results. all his life long he has remained a child or a youth.a primeval mythological invention. 147. and has stood still at the point where he was overcome by his artistic impulse. of blindly groping disorder. it goes without saying. they must in many respects themselves be beings who are turned towards the past. certainly. extreme. The artist's sense of truth. so that they can be used as bridges to far distant times and ideas.— Art also fulfils the task of preservation and even of brightening up extinguished and faded memories. as out of graves. are acknowledged to be nearer to those of earlier times than to those of the present century. Hence. in reality he will not renounce the most efficacious presuppositions for his art. It is. the artist himself must be excused if he does not stand in the front rank of the Enlightenment and progressive masculinization of man. however. however. uncertain. the feelings of the first years of life. or like the return in dreams of our beloved dead. the old sensation lives again and the heart beats to an almost forgotten time. mythical. he will on no account let himself be deprived of brilliant and profound interpretations of life. either divert his gaze from the wearisome present. The science of art has. Actually they are always and of necessity epigones.— With regard to knowledge of truths. Art as raiser of the dead. the belief that genius is something miraculous—he considers.— Poets. 146. but for some moments. most definitely to counter this illusion and to display the bad habits and false conclusions of the intellect by virtue of which it allows the artist to ensnare it. to dying or dead religions and cultures. of attentive reverie that attend the beginning of creation into his art as a means of deceiving the soul of the spectator or auditor into a mood in which he believes that the complete and perfect has suddenly emerged instantaneously. the artist has a weaker morality than the thinker. for the sake of the general usefulness of art. but the growth of the Enlightenment undermined the dogmas of religion and inspired a fundamental mistrust of them—so that the feelings. throw themselves into art. but which. in a few cases into political life. which does not make stormy and intoxicating impressions (such a kind easily arouses disgust). 153. but that which slowly filters into our minds. and itself becomes deeper. moving of stones and humanising of beasts. which it previously was not able to do. have perhaps been best achieved precisely by that art. 151. incense. even broken. The art of the ugly soul. the loftiest effects of art can easily produce a resounding of the long silent. metaphysical string—it may be. The slow arrow of beauty . the crushing of souls. thrust by the Enlightenment out of the religious sphere. and church-shadows have remained attached to it. respectable. inasmuch as they remove and apply palliatives to precisely that passion of discontent that induces to action. by the shadow it throws upon thought it sometimes conceals it. which we take away with us almost unnoticed. and the mightiest effects of art. Everywhere where human endeavour wears a loftier. so that it is capable of transmitting exultation and enthusiasm. 150.— The noblest kind of beauty is that which does not transport us suddenly. after having long lain modestly on our hearts. How meter beautifies. lays them to its heart. 149. fills our eyes with tears and our hearts with longing. and which we encounter again in our dreams. Art makes heavy the heart of the thinker. What is it that we long for at the sight of beauty? We long to be beautiful. The abundance of religious feelings which have grown into a stream are always breaking forth again and desire to conquer new kingdoms.— Art raises its head where religions relax their hold. when he has cast off everything metaphysical. and sometimes brings it into prominence. As in the plastic arts. The animation of art. It takes over many feelings and moods engendered by religion.— How strong metaphysical need is and how difficult nature renders our departure from it may be seen from the fact that even in the free spirit. it causes various artificialities of speech and obscurities of thought. well-behaved soul should be allowed to express itself therein.— Meter casts a veil over reality. gloomier aspect. takes entire possession of us. As shadow is necessary to beauty. for instance.prevent men from labouring towards a genuine improvement in their conditions. so the "dull" is necessary to lucidity. more full of soul. Art makes the aspect of life endurable by throwing over it the veil of obscure thought.— Art is confined within too narrow limits if it be required that only the orderly. that at a passage in Beethoven's Ninth Symphony he feels himself floating above the . even straight into science. 152. however. so also in music and poetry: there is an art of the ugly soul side by side with the art of the beautiful soul. But that is a mistake. we fancy it must bring much happiness with it. it may be assumed that the fear of spirits. he feels a deep pain at his heart. reviewing. 155. they were so plagued with the love of romancing that it was difficult for them in everyday life to keep themselves free from falsehood and deceit. The belief in inspiration. Greek poet] advised his countrymen to look upon life as a game. If their intellect speaks.— If the productive power has been suspended for a length of time.— The lightness and frivolity of the Homeric imagination was necessary to calm and occasionally to raise the immoderately passionate temperament and acute intellect of the Greeks. In such moments his intellectual character is put to the test. but if his mind is on a very high plane he does not easily find any one to share his pleasure. rejects and chooses and joins together. Simonides [Simonides (c. 157. unwearied not only in invention but also in rejection. Inspiration again. but artistic improvisation ranks low in comparison with serious and laboriously chosen artistic thoughts. and sighs for the man who will lead back to him his lost darling. In reality the imagination of the good artist or thinker constantly produces good. but they intentionally weave lies round life. there comes at last such a sudden outpouring. The sufferings of genius and their value . Moreover. 154. consequently a miracle. and arranging. As a punishment for this insight. however. for instance in the realm of goodness. The capital has only accumulated. he . from many different attempts.— It is to the interest of the artist that there should be a belief in sudden suggestions. so-called inspirations. of virtue and of vice. and yet are innocent withal. of poetry. most clear and practised. as if the idea of a work of art. He who makes less severe distinctions. 156. such apparent inspirations are seen elsewhere. and bad. earnestness was too well-known to them as pain (the gods so gladly hear the misery of mankind made the theme of song). but his power of judgment. the fundamental thought of a philosophy shone down from heaven like a ray of grace. and they knew that through art alone misery might be turned into pleasure. mediocre. If he becomes conscious of this state. and has been hindered in its outflow by some obstacle. 468 BC). as we have said. all the stars seem to shine round him. Playing with life. and willingly abandons himself to imitative memories. be it called religion or metaphysics. This constitutes the familiar deception. and in a manner selected them.earth in a starry dome with the dream of immortality in his heart. 556 to c. the interest of all artists is rather too much concerned. All great men were great workers. just as we now learn from Beethoven's notebooks that he gradually composed the most beautiful melodies.— The artistic genius desires to give pleasure. in the continuance of which. Probably this occasionally drove the neighbouring nations to desperation. may under certain circumstances be come a great improvisatore. it has not suddenly fallen down from heaven. how harsh and cruel does life then appear! They do not deceive themselves. transforming. for all poetic nations have such a love of falsehood. and the earth to sink farther and farther away. as if an immediate inspiration were taking place without previous inward working. passes over into the opposite of fear: the anxious. Artist's ambition. It is thus they aspire to victory over their competitors as they understand victory. to all suffering existence. however. without reference to a dominating taste or the general opinion as to what constitutes excellence in a work of art. which acquires its value through its connection with particularly difficult and remote perceptions (pity in itself is worth but little).— If one considers that man was for many hundreds of thousands of years an animal in the highest degree accessible to fear and that everything sudden and unexpected bade him prepare to fight and perhaps to die that even later on. however." . To aspire to honor here means: "to make oneself superior and to wish this superiority to be publicly acknowledged. an extra. is usually not so covetous and does not make such an exhibition of his really greater sufferings and deprivations. whilst an artist who does this always plays a desperate game that makes his heart ache. great. This gives him. In the phenomenon of the tragic. because the sound of his complaints is louder and his tongue more eloquent. on the other hand. for he has really no right to force pleasure on men. crouching creature springs up. they want actually to be more excellent. in social relationships all security depended on the expected and traditional in opinion and action then one cannot be surprised if whenever something sudden and unexpected in word and deed happens without occasioning danger or injury man becomes wanton. to all civilisation. His sufferings are considered as exaggerated. gave their genius its wings. there is added to the above-mentioned pains that species of pain which must be regarded as the most curious exception in the world. Origin of the comic. poetized in order to conquer. to humanity. he finds more pleasure in creating than the rest of mankind experiences in all other species of activity. He pipes. on what scales can we measure whether or not it is genuine? Is it not almost imperative to be mistrustful of all who speak of possessing sensiblities of this sort? 169. This transition from momentary anxiety to short-lived exuberance is called the comic. the tragedians for example. but only because his ambition and his envy are so great. enduring wantonness and high spirits is much rarer among mortals than occasions for fear. As compensation for this deprivation. and thus Aeschylus and Euripides were for a long time unsuccessful until they had finally educated judges of art who assessed their work according to the standards they themselves laid down. But by what standard. man passes swiftly from great.and supra-personal sensibility attuned to a nation. since. ambition. a comically touching pathos. we laugh much more often than we are profoundly shaken. that is to say. Now this ambition demands above all that their work should preserve the highest excellence in their own eyes. greatly expands—man laughs.— The Greek artists. there is much more of the comic than the tragic in the world. In very rare cases. their whole art cannot be thought of apart from contest: Hesiod's good Eris. He can reckon with greater certainty on future fame and can afford to do without the present.offers entertainment but nobody accepts it. as they understand excellence. in certain circumstances. like Kepler and Spinoza. then they exact agreement from others as to their own assessment of themselves and confirmation of their own judgment. but none will dance: can that be tragic? Perhaps. 170. and yet sometimes his sufferings are really very great. a victory before their own seat of judgment. enduring wantonness and great fear and anguish. when in one and the same individual are combined the genius of power and of knowledge and the moral genius. indeed. The learned genius. He regards himself in the end as a thoroughfare of knowledge and as a means and instrument in general. so that the auditor goes home colder and more placid? Do ghost stories make one less fearful and superstitious? It is true in the case of certain physical events. Quiet fruitfulness. Old doubts over the effect of art. the sensation. and he takes pleasure in knowledge of any kind only insofar as he can teach it. he always thinks of the benefit of his pupils. intensified. that with the satisfaction of a need an alleviation and temporary relaxation of the drive occurs. One has only to let oneself go. Artists are by no means men of great passion but they often pretend to be. If the latter is lacking and its absence not regretted. and Plato could still be right when he says that through tragedy one . If one is something one rally does not need to make anything—and one nonetheless does very much. but not for his own private use. in due time. so that he has ceased to be serious with regard to himself. to abandon selfcontrol. 212. in the unconscious feeling that their painted passions will seem more believable if their own life speaks for their experience in this field. envy. Warning to writers and teachers. its periodical alleviation notwithstanding. the other describes it. And in the long run a drive is. It is possible that in each individual instance fear and pity are mitigated and discharged: they could nonetheless grow greater as a whole through the tragic effect in general. the enjoyment of love for example. passion which gnaws at the individual and often consumes him. acquires from almost all he does and experiences only that which can be communicated through writing.If the former is lacking and the latter nonetheless still demanded. A true writer only bestows words on the emotions and experiences of others. 200. music or novels. as Aristotle has it. not quickly pushed aside by something new. There exists above the "productive" man a yet higher species. one speaks of vanity.— It is always as between Achilles and Homer: the one has the experience. Artists are often unbridled individuals to the extent that they are not artists: but that is something else. But fear and pity are not in this sense needs of definite organs which want to be relieved."] 210.— He who has once written. He who is a teacher is usually incapable of any longer doing anything for his own benefit. The desire to create continually is vulgar and betrays jealousy. is a thing of some consequence: he who experiences such passion certainly does not describe it in dramas.— The born aristocrats of the spirit are not too zealous: their creations appear and fall from the tree on a quiet autumn evening unprecipitately. through practice in satisfying it. one speaks of pride. 63: "Whoever is a teacher through and through takes all things seriously only in relation to his students—even himself. ambition. Achilles and Homer. 211. he is an artist so as to divine much from the little he himself has felt.— Are fear and pity really discharged by tragedy. and feels in himself the passion of writing. to give rein to one's anger or desires: at once all the world cries: how passionate he is! But deep-rooted passion. He no longer thinks of himself but of the writer and his public: he desires insight. [Beyond Good and Evil. but its primeval union with poetry has deposited so much symbolism into rhythmic movement. that almost everywhere there is happiness there is pleasure in nonsense. It is the pleasure of the slave at the Saturnalia. Pleasure in nonsense. Dramatic music becomes possible only when the tonal art has conquered an enormous domain of symbolic means. that we now suppose it to speak directly to the inner world and to come from the inner world. or symbolism of form speaking to the understanding without poetry after both arts had been united over a long course of evolution and the musical form had finally become entirely enmeshed in threads of feeling and concepts. indeed. — But what right has our age to offer an answer to Plato's great question concerning the moral influence of art at all? Even if we possessed art— what influence of any kind does art exercise among us? 213. of and in itself.— In general we no longer understand architecture. Music. and no longer imbibe this kind of cultural mother's milk from the first moment of our lives. just as we have weaned ourselves from the sound effects of rhetoric. tearful soul. disheartened view of the world and a soft. it likewise introduced a significance into the relations between lines and masses which is in itself quite unknown to the laws of mechanics.— How can man take pleasure in nonsense? For wherever in the world there is laughter this is the case. 218. In itself. Everything in a Greek or Christian building originally signified something. nor so profoundly exciting. The overturning of experience into its opposite. not so significant for our inner world. into the varying strength and volume of musical sounds.— Music is. it does not speak of the "will" or of the "thing-in-itself". It was the intellect itself which first introduced this significance into sounds: just as. the intellect could suppose such a thing only in an age which had conquered for musical symbolism the entire compass of the inner life. but in such a way that this event causes no harm and is imagined as occasioned by high spirits. and it would likewise accord with Plato's opinion of the matter if the tragic poet and with him whole city communities which take especial delight in him should degenerate to ever greater unbridledness and immoderation. for it momentarily liberates us from the constraint of the necessary. Stone is more stony than it used to be. in the case of architecture. at a primitive stage of music in which sounds made in tempo and at varying volume gave pleasure as such. we play and laugh when the expected (which usually makes us fearful and tense) discharges itself harmlessly. opera and a hundred experiments in tone-painting. We have grown out of the symbolism of lines and figures. susceptible. Beauty entered this system only incidentally. "Absolute music" is either form in itself. 215. the purposive and that which corresponds to our experience which we usually see as our inexorable masters. no music is profound or significant. of the necessary into the arbitrary. of the purposive into the purposeless. one can say. and indeed something of a higher order of things: this feeling of inexhaustible significance lay about the building like a magic veil. delights us.becomes generally more fearful and emotional. The tragic poet himself would then necessarily acquire a gloomy. that it can be said to count as the immediate language of feeling. without essentially . through song. Men who have remained behind in the evolution of music can understand in a purely formalistic way the same piece of music as the more advanced understand wholly symbolically. at least we do not do so nearly as well as we understand music. if the rainbow-colors at the extreme limits of human knowledge and supposition grow pale. The Beyond in art.— It is not without profound sorrow that one admits to oneself that in their highest flights the artists of all ages have raised to heavenly transfiguration precisely those conceptions which we now recognize as false: they are the glorifiers of the religious and philosophical errors of mankind. the pictures of Raphael. that species of art can never flourish again which. like the Divina Commedia. and they could not have been so without believing in the absolute truth of these errors. such an artist's faith. presupposes not only a cosmic but also a metaphysical significance in the objects of art.encroaching upon the fundamental sense of the uncanny and exalted. at most beauty mitigated the dread—but this dread was everywhere the presupposition. A moving tale will one day be told how there once existed such an art. If belief in such truth declines in general. of consecration by magic and the proximity of the divine. 220. the Gothic cathedrals. . What is the beauty of a building to us today? The same thing as the beautiful face of a mindless woman: something masklike. the frescoes of Michelangelo. is able to absorb the infection of what is new and incorporate it to its advantage. which outweighs all else. The task of education in a single individual is this: to plant him so firmly and surely that. he can no longer be diverted from his path. or else make use of the wounds which fate inflicts. 225. a physical or moral loss is seldom without its advantage. it is precisely the weaker nature. although half-educated people think otherwise. Machiavelli says that. that makes all progress at all possible." It is only with securely founded and guaranteed duration that continual development and ennobling inoculation are at all possible. therefore. as the more delicate and free. in consequence. The great aim of statecraft should be duration. and strenuousness of character becomes a birth gift and afterwards is fostered as a habit. As a rule. however. a sickly man in the midst of a warlike and restless race will perhaps have more chance of being alone and thereby growing quieter and wiser.V. but as a whole still strong and healthy. Every wholesale progress must be preceded by a partial weakening. For instance. the one-eyed man will possess one stronger eye. Ennoblement through degeneration. the possibility of attaining to higher aims. With regard to the State. above all. even a vice and. Tokens of Higher and Lower Culture 224. secondly. Numbers of these perish on account of their weakness. the weaker ones help it to evolve. but generally. Something similar happens in the case of individuals. and when pain and need have thus arisen. Precisely in this sore and weakened place the community is inoculated with something new. Deviating natures are of the utmost importance wherever there is to be progress. "the form of government is of very small importance. The danger to these communities founded on individuals of strong and similar character is that gradually increasing stupidity through transmission. without having achieved any specially visible effect. Thus strength is afforded by good and thorough customs. inasmuch as it is more valuable than liberty. In so far it appears to me that the famous struggle for existence is not the only point of view from which an explanation can be given of the progress or strengthening of an individual or a race. of their common faith. more uncertain and morally weaker individuals that depends the spiritual progress of such communities. will rise in opposition to this. . a deterioration. they flare up and from time to time inflict a wound on the stable element of the community. through the fact that there are deviating natures and. it is they who attempt all that is new and manifold. The strongest natures preserve the type. a mutilation. It is on the more unrestricted. the educator must wound him. Rather must two different things converge: firstly. as a whole. Then. the blind man will have a deeper inward sight and will certainly have a keener sense of hearing. however. particularly when they have descendants.— History teaches that a race of people is best preserved where the greater number hold one common spirit in consequence of the similarity of their accustomed and indisputable principles: in consequence. the multiplying of stable strength through mental binding in faith and common feeling. partial weakening and wounding of the stable strength. something new and noble can be inoculated into the wounded places. the dangerous companion of all duration. but its general strength must be great enough to absorb and assimilate this new thing into its blood. A people that is crumbling and weak in any one part. which follows all stability like its shadow. thus is learnt the subjection of the individual. authority. Christianity. For instance. "and you will soon feel the good it does. "My counsel speaks the whole truth. surroundings. not the impulse under which it was sought. or by reason of the prevailing contemporary views. education. and every father brings up his son in the same way: "Only believe this. many free spirits are created in one or other of these ways. actions which are not compatible with fettered morality. "and through faith shall ye be saved. however. as a matter of fact. the wholesomeness of a doctrine must be a guarantee for its intellectual surety and solidity. Sometimes it is also said that the cause of such and such free principles may be traced to mental perversity and extravagance. Later on. he is a Christian. it is not essential to the free spirit that he should hold more correct views. he demands reasons. and passionately repulsed the demand for reasons. not because he had a comprehension of different creeds and could take his choice. law : all these find strength and duration only in the faith which the fettered spirits repose in them—that is. what really matters is the possession of it. the others demand faith. For this reason. on his side. be it successfully or disastrously. he is an Englishman." As an actual fact." it suggested. 226.— The fettered spirit does not take up his position from conviction. As a rule. The adoption of guiding principles without reasons is called faith." This implies. but that he should have liberated himself from what was customary. that the truth of an opinion is proved by its personal utility. however. 227. let a fettered spirit be obliged to bring forward his reasons against bigamy and then it will be seen whether his holy zeal in favour of monogamy is based upon reason or upon custom. professions. for the free spirit usually bears the proof of his greater goodness and keenness of intellect written in his face so plainly that the fettered spirits understand it well enough. he will have truth. but he is not therefore upset in his whole position. which was very simple in its intellectual ideas. these latter reproach him. but he found Christianity and England ready-made and accepted them without any reason. saying that his free principles either have their origin in a desire to be remarkable or else cause free actions to be inferred—that is to say. The origin of faith. It is exactly as if an accused person in a court of law were to say. remarked nothing of this pudendum.— All states and orders of society. however. for only see . nor does it believe what it says. and feel that it is a pudendum. He is the exception. position. these reasons may be upset. If the free spirits are right then the fettered spirits are wrong. just as one who is born in a wine-country becomes a wine-drinker. or at least in the averting of inquiries as to reasons. it pointed to the success of faith: "You will soon feel the advantages of faith. required faith and nothing but faith. but from habit. the state pursues the same course. or at least the spirit of truth-investigation. the way in which it was found. In the knowledge of truth. however. and office. Moreover. the tenets to which they attain in this manner might be truer and more reliable than those of the fettered spirits. But the two other derivations of free spiritedness are honestly intended. but only malice speaks thus. perhaps. The restricted spirits do not willingly acknowledge this. matrimony.— We call that man a free spirit who thinks otherwise than is expected of him in consideration of his origin.Free spirit a relative concept. fettered spirits are the rule. he discovered a few reasons in favour of his habit. and it is a matter of indifference whether the former have reached truth through immorality or the latter hitherto retained hold of untruths through morality. Reasons drawn a posteriori on the basis of consequences. as he was a Christian and an Englishman. not because he decided for England." he says. in the absence of reasons. for instance. but wishes thereby to do an injury. they say or feel. therefore.— Compared with him who has tradition on his side and requires no reasons for his actions. between these two he must now of necessity choose. Whence comes the energy. they suppose that the free spirit also seeks his own advantage in his views and only holds that to be true which is profitable to him. Few motives. What means exist of making him strong in spite of this." Because the fettered spirits retain their principles on account of their utility. But as he appears to find profitable just the contrary of that which his compatriots or equals find profitable. The educating surroundings aim at fettering every individual. The good. the familiar manifestation of restriction is called a good character. The individual is always treated by his educators as if he were. which habit has made instinct. for he is acquainted with too many motives and points of view. who bring their case before the forum of the fettered spirits. and will not perish ineffectually? What is the source of the strong spirit ( esprit fort)? This is especially the question as to the production of genius. explains why a war that was begun in opposition to popular feeling is carried on with enthusiasm directly after a sacrifice has been made for it. Firstly: all things that last are right. in placing itself on the side of the fettered spirits the child first discloses its awakening common feeling. that it will not become a burden.what is the result of his speech: I shall be acquitted. for he is injurious to us. that on the whole they are an advantage to the fettered spirits. "He must not be right. because in a given case it shows him. something new. 229. secondly: all things that are not burdens to us are right. in accordance with his whole nature. in those who perform them the sensation of a good conscience. and. only two possibilities. at least. When any one acts from few but always from the same motives. with this foundation of common sentiment. finally. It is because they cannot convince the restricted spirits on this last point that they profit nothing by having proved the first and second propositions. and a good conscience compose what is called strength of character. perhaps. so that he will. strong character. The man of strong character lacks a knowledge of the many possibilities and directions of action.— There are four species of things concerning which the restricted spirits say they are in the right. In a child. energetic action. 230. by always placing before him the smallest number of possibilities. his actions acquire great energy. and they produce. If he makes his first appearance as something unknown. the . moreover. an uncertain and unpractised hand. for instance. fourthly: all things for which we have made sacrifices are right. must prove that free spirits always existed. unprecedented. if these actions accord with the principles of the fettered spirits they are recognised. and he does this easily and quickly because he has not to choose between fifty possibilities.— The restriction of views. Esprit fort. but should become a duplicate. thirdly: all things that are advantageous for us are right." 228. The last sentence. that free spiritedness is therefore enduring. his intellect is fettered and restricted. and has. especially in action. the free spirit is always weak. indeed. leads to what is called strength of character. these latter assume that his principles are dangerous to them. The free spirits. he must be turned into something known and precedented. he will eventually become useful to his state or rank. manage to survive. The standards and values of the fettered spirits. 232. people against people. the will. crippling. we think it hardly possible that a time will come when a wooded. The voice of history.unbending strength. history appears to teach the following about the production of genius: it ill-treats and torments mankind—calls to the passions of envy.— Just as the glaciers increase when in equatorial regions the sun shines upon the seas with greater force than hitherto. These general remarks on the origin of genius may be applied to the special case. the most cold-blooded and patient employment of every smallest advantage.— In general. because this one has to fulfil its own and also another function. 233. It has already been said that mutilation. will sometimes discover a new path which nobody knew previously —thus arise geniuses. begins it in a dungeon and excites to the utmost its desire to free itself. like a horse maddened by the rider's spur. hatred. thereupon breaks out and leaps over into another domain. . like a stray spark from the terrible energy thereby aroused.— The ingenuity with which a prisoner seeks the means of freedom.— When we behold those deeply-furrowed hollows in which glaciers have lain. would have to be just as evil and regardless as nature itself. and desires to carry out practically the manner in which nature usually goes to work. So it is. but their work was nonetheless necessary. so may a very strong and spreading free-spiritism be a proof that somewhere or other the force of feeling has grown extraordinarily. but who with unusual energy strives to reach the open in one direction or another. 261. will spread itself out upon the same spot. can teach us of what tools nature sometimes makes use in order to produce genius—a word which I beg will be understood without any mythological and religious flavour. nature. Or to give another picture: some one who has completely lost his way in a wood. in order that later a gentler civilization might raise its house. watered by streams. Conjecture as to the origin of free-spiritism. and are mainly destructive. she. endeavours to obtain an entirely individual knowledge of the world? 231. who are credited with originality. is frequently the cause of the unusual development of another organ. 246. or the loss of some important organ. the endurance with which the one. and rivalry —drives them to desperation. grassy valley. The frightful energies—those which are called evil—are the cyclopean architects and road-makers of humanity. perhaps. This explains the source of many a brilliant talent. The cyclops of culture. But perhaps we have not heard rightly. He who could attain to a comprehension of the production of genius. too. in opposition to accepted ideas. in the history of mankind: the most savage forces beat a path. the origin of the perfect free spirit. The origin of genius. there flames up suddenly the light of genius. throughout whole centuries! Then. what the purpose of his restless activity is: it is irrational. scholars. for he who does not have two-thirds of his day to himself is a slave. let no one undervalue it! It was only when the art of correct reading.— Every strong course is one-sided.] 270. and will easily be content with.] These philosophers possesed a firm belief in themselves and their "truth" and with it they overthrew all their contemporaries and predecessors. together with their elucidation. a minor office or an income that just enables them to live. Principal deficiency of active men. for they will organize their life in such a way that a great transformation of external circumstances. The active roll as the stone rolls. in obedience to the stupidity of the laws of mechanics. . men who live for the sake of knowledge alone. Perhaps Solon alone constitutes an exception. scholar. Now. that is to say. let him be what he may otherwise: statesman. so that they may dive down into the element of knowledge with all their accumulated strength and as it were with a deep breath. Production and preservation of texts. Prudence of free spirits. but not as distinct individual and unique human beings. .— As at all times. will find they soon attain the external goal of their life. arrived at its summit that science of any kind acquired continuity and constancy. for example. businessmen. [. They are active as officials.] They were tyrants. that which every Greek wanted to be and what everyone was when he could be. elsewhere it is gloomy. as weak parties and natures do so in their wavelike swayings back and forth: one must thus forgive the philologists too for being one-sided. the myth was not pure.— Active men are generally wanting in the higher activity: I mean that of the individual. even an overturning of the political order. does not overturn their life with it. One ought not to ask the cash-amassing banker. the entire Middle Ages was profoundly incapable of a strict philological elucidation.— Only where the radiance of the myth falls is the life of the Greeks bright. and towards the end of his life his soul became full of the blackest gall. for example. 283. . Parmenides also gave laws. 291. that is to say as generic creatures.— The liberal-minded. official. he appears to have suffered terribly from the non-fulfillment of his nature. that is to say. pursued in a guild for centuries. . men are divided into the slaves and the free. —It is the misfortune of the active that their activity is always a little irrational. he says in his poems how he disdained personal tyranny. in that which each of them called his "truth. fundamentally these philosophers were only seeking a brighter sun.The tyrants of the spirit. . Upon all these things they expend as little energy as possible. Thus they may hope to dive deep and . it approaches the course of a straight line and like this is exclusive. not lucid enough for them. [. Plato was the incarnate desire to become the supreme philosophical lawgiver and founder of states. that is to say philology. businessman. Anaximander founded a city. in this regard they are lazy. They discovered this light in their knowledge. it does not touch many other courses. so now too." [. The art of reading. their definitive position in relation to society and the state. has now finally discovered the correct methods. each of them was a warlike brutal tyrant. that is to say of a simple desire to understand what the author is saying—to have discovered these methods was an achievement. . Pythagoras and Empedocles probably did also. the Greek philosophers deprived themselves of precisely this myth: is it not as if they wanted to move out of the sunshine into shadows and gloom? But no plant avoids the light. of servitude. serve yourself as your own source of experience! Throw off discontent with your nature. for in any event you possess in yourself a ladder with a hundred rungs upon which you can climb to knowledge. precisely with aid of these experiences. When your gaze has become strong enough to see to the bottom of the dark well of your nature and your knowledge. errors. discover all the reasons by virtue of which you have still had a genuine access to art. of dependence. passions. faults. Only when you grow old will you come to realize how you have given ear to the voice of nature. that many of the most splendid fruits of more ancient cultures grew up? One must have loved religion and art like mother and nurse—otherwise one cannot grow wise. But from time to time he has to have a Sunday of freedom.perhaps get a view of the ground at the bottom.— He too knows the weekdays of unfreedom. your own life will acquire the value of an instrument and means to knowledge. forgive yourself your own ego. for he has no wish to get himself entangled with them. forward on the path of wisdom with a bold step and full of confidence! However you may be. both of them. it calls to you to participate in experiences that men of a later age will perhaps have to forgo." Turn back and trace the footsteps of mankind as it made its great sorrowful way through the desert of the past: thus you will leatn in the sutest way whither all later mankind can and may not go again. if one remains under their spell. The age in which with regret you feel yourself thrown counts you happy on account of this good fortune. Do you believe that such a life with such a goal is too laborious. Whatever labyrinths he may stray through. perhaps you will also behold in its mirror the distant constellations of future cultures. delusions. You have it in your hands to achieve the absorption of all your experience—your experiments. that nature which rules the whole world through joy: the same life that has its apex in old age also has its apex in wisdom. which you sometimes find so displeasing. and tends to go silently through the world and out of the world. old age and wisdom. Do not underestimate the value of having been religious.— There is in his way of living and thinking a refined heroism which disdains to offer itself to the veneration of the great masses. in all the breadth and prolixity of their convolutions. as his coarser brother does. ridge of life: so . Can you not. He must trust that the genius of justice will put in a word on behalf of his disciple and protégé if accusing voices should call him poor in love. This goal is yourself to become a necessary chain of rings of culture and from this necessity to recognize the necessity inherent in the course of culture in general. 292. or he will find life unendurable. too much lacking in everything pleasant? Then you have not yet learned that no honey is sweeter than that of knowledge. your love and your hope—into your goal without remainder. one does not understand them. Forward. for he wants to become involved with the world of affection and blindness only insofar as it is necessary for acquiring knowledge. or that the clouds of affliction hovering over you will yet have to serve you as udders from which you will milk the milk of your refreshment. You must likewise be on familiar terms with history and with playing the cautious game with the scales "on the one hand—one the other hand. among whatever rocks his stream may make its tortuous way—if he emerges into the open air he will travel his road bright.— It is probable that even his love for other people will be prudent and somewhat short-breathed. But one must be able to see beyond them.— And with that. in that gentle sunshine of a constant spiritual joyousness. follow with greater understanding tremendous stretches of the paths taken by earlier mankind? Is it not on precisely this soil. the soil of unclear thinking. you will encounter on the same mountain. And by your desiring with all your strength to see ahead how the knot of the future is going to be tied. he has no love for things in their entirety.— Of whatever happens to him such a spirit will want to appropriate only the tip. outgrow them. light and almost soundlessly and let the sunshine play down into his very depths. Advisor to the ill.— We can speak very appropriately and yet in such a way that all the world cries out the reverse: that is when we are not speaking to all the world. excluding. 296. . taking pleasure in others' success).— In every party there is one who through his all too credulous avowal of the party's principles incites the others to apostasy. and. The most dangerous party member. 295.— Whoever gives an ill man advice gains a feeling of superiority over him.— The craving for equality can be expressed either by the wish to draw all others down to one's level (by belittling. 294. a benevolent dissembling is often required.— Lack of intimacy among friends is a mistake that cannot be censured without becoming irreparable.— To have to reject a gift. whether the advice is accepted or rejected. 300. Twofold kind of equality . that the mists of death should approach. 297. Then it is time. On the art of giving. a joyful shout of knowledge—your last sound. Towards the light—your last motion. VI. For that reason. 299. tripping them up) or by the wish to draw oneself up with everyone else (by appreciating.did nature will it. one encounters copies of important people.— In interaction with people. embitters us towards the giver. as with paintings. Copies. simply because it was not offered in the proper way. Man in Society 293. most people prefer the copy to the original. Lack of intimacy. irritable and proud ill people hate advisors even more than their illness. as if we did not see through the motives for their behavior.— Not infrequently. 298. Benevolent dissembling. helping. and no cause for anger. The speaker. . Why one contradicts.— If someone assiduously seeks to force intimacy with another person. he usually is not sure whether he possesses that person's trust. one can win clever people over to a principle merely by presenting it in the form of an outrageous paradox. 310. he places little value on intimacy. When paradoxes are appropriate. This gives rise to immorality.— We count the courtesies shown to us by unpopular people as offenses. Making them wait.301.— The most dangerous doctors are those born actors who imitate born doctors with perfect deceptive art. 307. 305. 306.— We do not place especial value on the possession of a virtue until we notice its total absence in our opponent.— Sometimes in our relationship to another person. while actually it is only the tone with which it was advanced that we find disagreeable. Preference for specific virtues. Trust and intimacy. 302. Countering embarrassment.— We often contradict an opinion. 308.— A sure way to provoke people and to put evil thoughts into their heads is to make them wait a long time. If someone is sure of being trusted. 304. How brave people are won over.— Brave people are persuaded to an action when it is represented as more dangerous than it is. Courtesies.— At times. 303. The most dangerous doctors. 309.— The best way to come to the aid of someone who is very embarrassed and to soothe him is to praise him resolutely. the right balance of friendship is restored when we put a few grains of injustice on our own side of the scale. Balance of friendship. — Whether a man hides his bad qualities and vices or confesses them openly. giving him the opportunity to make a joke about us is often enough to provide him personal satisfaction. simply to become aware of our own strength. each of whom is nothing. perhaps. if it does not put us to sleep. 319. solitude breeds presumption. 316. thinks a lot. but also. 313. Required for debate. Motive for attack.— Whoever does not know how to put his thoughts on ice should not engage in the heat of argument.— People who give us their complete trust believe that they therefore have a right to our own. Young people are arrogant because they go about with their own kind. . to conquer him.— We attack not only to hurt a person. 315. his vanity wants to gain an advantage by it in both cases: just note how subtly he distinguishes between those he will hide his bad qualities from and those he will face honestly and candidly. but wishes to be important. Milieu and arrogance.— The man who writes no books.— One unlearns arrogance when he knows he is always among men of merit. as of a fearful disposition. like a sleeping potion which. Good letter-writer.311. Vanity of the tongue.— People who want to flatter us to dull our caution in dealing with them are using a very dangerous tool. Considerate. This conclusion is false: rights are not won by gifts. Means of compensation.— If we have injured someone. 317. Against trusting people. 312. or even to win his good will. 314.— The wish not to annoy anyone or injure anyone can be an equally good indication of a just. 318. and lives in inadequate society will usually be a good letter-writer. Flattery. keeps us only the more awake. In dull society. 326. and therefore easily show dissatisfaction. the most disagreeable way of responding to a polemic is to be angry and keep silent: for the aggressor usually takes the silence as a sign of disdain. The sympathetic. simply by accepting it already has too much of a burden. 324.— The humanity of famous intellectuals consists in graciously losing the argument when dealing with the nonfamous. become superfluous. Most ugly.— For both parties. The friend's secret. . for the recipient. 327.— Sympathetic natures. 325. 321. do not feel in possession of their superiority. 328.— One is twice as happy to dive after a man who has fallen into the water if people are present who do not dare to. Anticipating ingratitude.— There will be but few people who. 323. Humanity. 322. are rarely the same ones who share our joy: when others are happy. Silence.320. will not reveal the more secret affairs of their friends. 329. always helpful in a misfortune. when at a loss for topics of conversation.— The relatives of a suicide resent him for not having stayed alive out of consideration for their reputation.— The man who gives a great gift encounters no gratitude. Relatives of a suicide.— No one thanks the witty man for the courtesy of adapting himself to a society in which it is not courteous to display wit.— It is to be doubted whether a well-traveled man has found anywhere in the world regions more ugly than in the human face. Presence of witnesses. they have nothing to do. — In conversation.— The clearest sign that two people hold alienated views is that each says ironic things to the other. but if we understand it. .— Arrogance on the part of the meritorious is even more offensive to us than the arrogance of those without merit: for merit itself is offensive. In conversation. 331. 337. 330. It is supposed to make us aware how earnestly they are concerned with us. but those others know us only very superficially.— Sometimes in the course of conversation the sound of our own voice disconcerts us and misleads us into making assertions which in no way correspond to our opinions. for we ourselves know well the degree of our divergence from a person.— We fear the hostile mood of our neighbor because we are afraid that this mood will help him discover our secrets. Vexation at the goodwill of others.The inhibited one. 333. a crude soul is distressed that it owes thanks. To distinguish by censure. before the company—by teasing.— Men who do not feel secure in social situations take every opportunity to demonstrate superiority over an intimate to whom they are superior. a direction. We quite misunderstand them if we take their censure as a matter of fact and defend ourselves against it. we annoy them by doing so and alienate them. The danger in our own voice. 334. for example.— We are wrong about the degree to which we believe ourselves hated or feared. it offends us. but neither of the two feels the other's irony. Arrogance of the meritorious. Often we encounter goodwill which we cannot explain.— A refined soul is distressed to know that someone owes it thanks. or a party. Indication of alienation. 336. Fear of one's neighbor. it is largely a matter of habit whether one decides mainly for or against the other person: both make sense. and therefore also hate us only superficially. Thanks. 335. 332. for it shows that one doesn't take us seriously or importantly enough.— Very respected people confer even their censure in such a way as to distinguish us by it. this they do publicly. — Two people with equally great vanity retain a bad impression of one another after they meet. The narrator. sometimes they handle assertions as poised archers their weapons. .— In the way men make assertions in present-day society. and with some men an assertion thunders down like a heavy cudgel. it is the bad behavior of fiery horses who still have carried no rider. 342. one often hears an echo of the times when they were better skilled in arms than in anything else. 339. When it is advisable to be wrong. if the veil of deception is torn away. finally both notice that their efforts have failed and blame the other for it. speak like creatures who sat for thousands of years at the loom.— The superior spirit takes pleasure in ambitious youths' tactless. arrogant. If the latter is the case. Bad manners as a good sign. even hostile behavior toward him. Then he usually narrates the worse. In this way. 340. one can always be in the wrong. or indeed refute him. of course. use superlatives. or were childish with children. Women. 341. sometimes one thinks he hears the whir and clatter of blades. etc. they indulge in a rage all the greater. Primeval states echoed in speech. if the accuser would see an even greater wrong on our part were we to contradict him. and always gain one's point. or did sewing. 343. because he is not thinking so much about the story as about himself. and what is true of the individual can also occur in whole classes of society. and. they become casuistic psychologists in order to prove that they were indeed honored sufficiently. on the other hand. with the best conscience in the world.— It is good to accept accusations without refuting them.— It is easy to tell whether a narrator is narrating because the subject matter interests him or because he wants to evoke interest through his narrative. if they do not achieve their goal. become the most intolerable tyrant and pest. Clashing vanities. even when they do us wrong.338. because each one was so busy with the impression he wanted to elicit in the other that the other made no impression on him. finally. and yet will in a short time be so proud to carry him.— Very conceited people to whom one has given fewer signs of regard than they expected will try to mislead themselves and others about this for a long time. he will exaggerate. Too little honored. 344. He finds his voice more natural for certain moods and scenes than for others—for everything pathetic or for the farcical. cutting. and perhaps all three together. or pity can be aroused. he may not have had the opportunity to indicate pathos or farce. . a free hand. even though we cannot reproach our own good intentions. fear.— A man who wishes to demand something difficult from another man must not conceive of the matter as a problem. 347.Reading aloud. whereas in his usual life. 345. and this at the very moment when you are yourself engaged in betraying him. The one who does the former demonstrates his power and then his goodness. or we are pained at having hurt the other fellow—thus vanity. What will he do? Oppose his own opinion? 346. he must know how to break off the conversation quickly. 348. 349. Traitor's tour de force. do not greet him. for example. leaving him no time. or we fear the consequences of ill feeling. Unintentionally impolite. the bad opinion that we engendered in the other fellow irks us. Trick. this riles us. when an objection or contradiction glimmers in the eye of his opponent. finding it again. pleasure in the other's humiliation is slight. 350. Now. because of this coercion. his breath almost fails him—then someone from the company takes his words out of his mouth. giving you. in a comedy we would hear and see how he sets all sails to get to the point. perhaps a bit exaggerated. but rather simply lay out his plan. because it makes the other person aware of himself and forces him to behave very unsuspiciously and openly for a time.— If we unintentionally treat another impolitely. the true traitor.— Whoever reads dramatic poetry aloud makes discoveries about his own character. The other. and tries to steer the company to where he can make his remark. A comedy scene which occurs in life. as if it were the only possibility. finally reaching the moment. because we do not recognize him. sometimes losing his direction. is a tour de force of malice.— To express to your fellow conspirator the hurtful suspicion that he might be betraying you. how he continually pushes the conversation toward one destination.— Someone thinks of a clever opinion about a matter in order to expound it in company.— When someone contradicts an opinion and develops his own at the same time. To offend and be offended. his incessant consideration of the other opinion usually causes the natural presentation of his own to go awry: it appears more intentional. must forgive. for example. In a dispute. if he does not want to be thought inhuman.— It is much more agreeable to offend and later ask forgiveness than to be offended and grant forgiveness. — Artists and statesmen.— If someone quotes himself in conversation ("I used to say . because it sounds so uninhibited. at the expense of others."). this gives the impression of arrogance. For we are sometimes judged wrongly even by those who are closest to us ( "who know us best"). and usually with a secret bitterness towards those on whom he is dependent. and also much more forgivable (for historical reasons). to consider the friend as a problem worthy of solution)." I find this inexplicable. because we behaved at the party as if we belonged to it. 354. This kind of character is much more common in women than in men. or unjust as he is in their imagination. so that they are the first. and thus far are the last. who knew so well what a friend is (they alone of all peoples have a deep. One is judged wrongly. Pangs of conscience after parties. almost objective. who quickly put together the whole picture of a person or event from individual characteristics. or at least from an honesty that does not wish to embellish or adorn the moment with ideas that belong to a previous moment. 352. 356. cunning. Tyranny of the portrait. and would they be our friends if they knew us completely? The judgment of disinterested people hurts a great deal. The relative as best friend. Unrecognized honesty. they virtually demand that a person be as gifted. in order not to work at any cost.— Why do we feel pangs of conscience after ordinary parties? Because we have taken important matters lightly. . But if we notice that an enemy knows one of our secret characteristics as well as we know ourselves—how great our annoyance is then! 353. .— He who listens to how he is judged will always be annoyed. in short. The parasite. in that they demand afterwards that the event or person really must be the way they painted it. are usually unjust. philosophical discussion of friendship." "I always say . . because we did not on occasion jump up and run away. Even good friends release their annoyance in an envious word. because we have discussed people with less than complete loyalty. . these same Greeks called relatives by a term that is the superlative of the word "friend.351. 355.— The Greeks. . or because we were silent when we should have spoken. whereas it more often stems from precisely the opposite source. many-sided.— It shows a complete lack of noble character when someone prefers to live in dependence. that they be pitied because they are prey to such violent attacks. Thus.357.— There are circumstances when one obtains an object from a person only by offending him and antagonizing him. but in truth it is a matter of indifference to him. His real nature is quite sluggish about it. as Socrates had already found out. But. nothing much would be done for the good of one's neighbor. Curiosity sneaks into the house of the unfortunate and needy. Human arrogance can go that far. when they become angry and offend others. and we would sadden them if we did not take pleasure in their praise. one need only paint it as human. and on the altar of this reconciliation sacrifices the object which was earlier of such great importance to him that he did not want to give it up at any price. charitable. he often appears pleased about it out of politeness and good will.— In the struggle with stupidity the fairest and gentlest people finally become brutal. this feeling of having an enemy torments the man so that he gladly seizes the first sign of a milder mood to bring about reconciliation. On the altar of reconciliation . 360. 358. The experience of Socrates. using the name of Duty or Pity. for by rights the argument against a stupid brow is a clenched fist. they have a fair and gentle disposition.— "Every man has his price"—that is not true. and second. 359. But because. and cannot be dragged one step out of the sun or shade in which it lies. But every one has a bait into which he must bite.— When one has become a master in some field one has usually. Bait. noble. Means of bestialization. Demanding pity as a sign of arrogance. to win certain people to a matter. 362. who. remained a complete amateur in most other things.— When good friends praise a talented man's nature.— There are people. self-sacrificing—and what matter could not be painted thus? It is the sweet candy of their souls: others have another. as we said. for that very reason. Curiosity. this means of selfdefense makes their own suffering greater than the suffering they inflict. but one judges just the other way around. . demand first that nothing be held against them. Perhaps that is the right way for them to defend themselves.— If there were no curiosity. 361. This is what makes association with masters disagreeable. Behavior when praised. but men want to give joy by praising. 363. so that the heart is relieved after a duel according to the rules. the other for the same reason vis a vis the lesser man. a fourth by his isolation—and all of them are miscalculating. there is quite another category of men who speak well only when they speak in competition. by the way. Such an institution. a third by his acquaintances. because otherwise many human lives would be in danger. there is a good bit of curiosity. Which of the two categories is the more ambitious: the one that speaks well when ambition is aroused. by the way. For the person for whom they are putting on the spectacle thinks that he himself is the only spectacle that counts. intending to win. and makes associating with them possible. or the one that. the one because he does not feel the stimulus of rivalry or competition vis a vis the superior man. in that regard we are the heirs of the past.— Among men who have a particular gift for friendship. Nobility and gratitude.— A noble soul will be happy to feel itself bound in gratitude and will not try anxiously to avoid the occasions when it may be so bound. Miscalculating in society. The one man is in a continual state of ascent. its greatness as well as its excesses. or are later excessive and much too eager in expressing their gratitude. without which there can never be any greatness. another person can speak completely freely and turn a phrase with eloquence only in front of someone whom he surpasses. it will likewise be at ease later in expressing gratitude. speaks badly or not at all? 368. if a canon of honor exists that allows blood to take the place of death. the reason is the same in both cases: each of them speaks well only when he speaks sans gene. another by his likes and dislikes. 365.— It can be said in favor of all duels and affairs of honor.Perhaps even in the much-celebrated matter of motherly love. and finds an exactly appropriate friend for each phase of his development. 367. also occurs in people of low origin or oppressed station: they think a favor shown to them is a miracle of mercy. The talent for friendship. Now. The series of friends that he acquires in this way is . Now. This last. two types stand out. one person needs someone who is definitely and admittedly superior to him. while cruder souls resist being bound in any way. educates men to be cautious in their remarks. out of precisely the same motives.— One person wants to be interesting by virtue of his judgments. 364. then he has a right to let the matter be settled by the death of one man or the other. that if a man is so sensitive as not to want to live if so-and-so said or thought this-and-that about him. Duel.— In order to speak well. 366. The hours of eloquence. We cannot argue about his being so sensitive. then this is a great blessing. 370. we are not even aware of the transition from indifference to liking or disliking. . and these come into friendly contact with one another through him. 372. for in him. quite in accordance with the fact that the later phases in his development invalidate or compromise the earlier phases. Assuming the colors of the environment. and because sympathetic agreement and mutual understanding are so pleasant. Tactics in conversation. since he can. His injured sensibility is relieved by imagining a person. The other type is represented by the man who exercises his powers of attraction on very different characters and talents. that intimate connection of so many different temperaments and natures must somehow be prefigured. it is very hard to withhold judgment entirely. One could imagine an amusing conversation between two very clever people. when a prince fails at something. as the reason for his failure. For one can avenge oneself on people. not a thing. however (this is the second point). his court habitually points out to him a single person as the alleged cause. Such a man may jokingly be called a ladder. In many people. Usually.— The man who fails at something prefers to attribute the failure to the bad will of another rather than to chance. fearfulness. 371. Therefore. the gift of having good friends is much greater than the gift of being a good friend. Releasing ill humor. Clever men who want to gain someone's favor use this during a conversation. perhaps against the direction of our environment if our pride likes this posture better. Such a man can be called a circle. It can look like poverty of thought and feeling. we soon wear all its insignias and party colors. and sometimes it is virtually intolerable for our vanity. and so we are persuaded at least to take a side. 369. unmanliness. take no vengeance on Dame Fortune herself.— After a conversation with someone. but gradually grow used to the sentiments of our environment. both of whom want to gain the other's favor and therefore toss the good conversational opportunities back and forth. giving the other person the best opportunities for a good joke and the like. one is best disposed towards his partner in conversation if he had the opportunity to display to him his own wit and amiability in its full splendor. incidentally. neither one accepting them—so that the conversation as a whole would proceed without wit or amiability because each one was offering the other the opportunity to demonstrate wit and amiability. despite all their diversity. thereby winning a whole circle of friends. and sometimes discordant and contradictory.only rarely interconnected. but one must choke down the injuries of coincidence. for the prince's ill humor would otherwise be released on them all. of course. and sacrifices this person in the interest of all the courtiers.— Why are likes and dislikes so contagious that one can scarcely live in proximity to a person of strong sensibilities without being filled like a vessel with his pros and cons? First. in confession of errors. in the pity for others—and all these fine things awaken revulsion when that weed grows among them. Where there is no relation as between teacher and pupil. or three.— A dialogue is the perfect conversation because everything that the one person says acquires its particular color. to the extent that the witnesses of his arrogance usually render to him. a man interacting with several people is forced to fall back upon himself. But how is it with two. to present the facts as they are. but the salubrious kind that awakens good intentions and bids us offer. who. The arrogant man. To be sure. humiliating them. the various considerations clash.— Man should beware of nothing so much as the growth of that weed called arrogance. along with the author. besides biting. and regard the author as the spokesman for their arrogance. they lose caution and reveal themselves as they are—until the rays of the torch that they held up to their teacher's face are suddenly reflected back on them. or more partners? There the conversation necessarily loses something of its individualizing refinement. But they take a nasty vengeance for it. used by a teacher interacting with pupils of whatever sort. has also learned to laugh. 374. in friendly advice. and. In a dialogue. For there is arrogance in warmheartedness. the habit of irony. but rob the subject matter of that . irony is impolite. in caresses. it is like letter-writing. unless he can be quite sure that he will not be misunderstood and considered arrogant—with friends or wives.— Irony is appropriate only as a pedagogical tool. sound. 373. a base emotion. by subtracting just the amount of excess honor he demands from the value they used to attach to him. finally.Irony. like that of sarcasm. honor and gratitude to the one who treated us so. depending on whether he is writing to this person or to that. it is even worse than not having learned to lie politely. out of fear or convenience. the one who wants to be more important than he is or is thought to be. does not accord with the character of the other. always miscalculates. as to a doctor. he enjoys his momentary success. for example. its purpose is humiliation. the mirror in which we want to see our thoughts reflected as beautifully as possible. eventually it lends the quality of a gloating superiority. An arrogant man can make his real. All ironic writers are counting on that silly category of men who want to feel. cancel each other out. there is no greater foolishness than to bring on oneself a reputation for arrogance. ruins the character. For in associating with men. Arrogance. great achievement so suspect and petty in the eyes of others that they tread upon it with dust-covered feet. People make one pay for nothing so dearly as for humiliation. in well-meaning intimacy. in marks of respect. superior to all other men. shame. One should not even allow himself a proud bearing. Incidentally. the phrase that pleases the one. that amount of honor which he demands. one is like a snapping dog. exposing themselves in all kinds of ways. Dialogue. that is. does it so well that the pupils conversing with him are fooled and become bold in their conviction about their better knowledge. in fact. The ironic man pretends to be ignorant. its accompanying gesture in strict consideration of the other person to whom he is speaking. where one and the same man shows ten ways of expressing his inner thoughts. which ruins every one of our good harvests. there is only one single refraction of thought: this is produced by the partner in conversation. Therefore. one should not speak so quickly in favor of arrogant isolation. but for all times. 376. this is a mistake. that is what I say. it is as if the ground bass of all speech were: "That is who I am. the friendship follows after. and environment then he will perhaps be rid of the bitterness and sharpness of that feeling with which the wise man called out: "Friends. indeed. he will admit to himself that there are. their kind and intensity. indeed that they are never touched upon. thus learning to despise it a bit. Incidentally. occupation. for almost always. their tactics. unappealing: it is speaking to and in front of many people that robs them of all intelligent amiability and turns a harsh light only on their conscious dependence on themselves. in all its perceptions and judgments of what is beautiful and good.— It makes sense to hope for recognition in a distant future only if one assumes that mankind will remain essentially unchanged and that all greatness must be perceived as great. how even the same opinions have quite a different place or intensity in the heads of your friends than in your own. and their intention to triumph publicly. and that in the best case a historian will later acknowledge that he already knew this or the other thing but was not capable of winning belief for his theory. but usually it is our errors. how many hundreds of times there is occasion for misunderstanding or hostile flight. It is . not for one time only. After all that. such human relationships rest on the fact that a certain few things are never said. mankind changes very greatly.scintillating air of humanity that makes a conversation one of the most agreeable things in the world. or follies that keep our great qualities from being recognized. clever women whom a man has met in society are generally remembered as strange. awkward. However. Besides. are as inevitable and irresponsible as their actions. how lonely is every man!" If someone understands this. there are no friends!" Rather. and falls apart. we bring ourselves into balance with others again. weaknesses. now you think what you will about it!" For this reason. how divided the opinions. 375. friends. Are there men who cannot be fatally wounded. and they must have learned to be silent in order to remain your friend. and once these pebbles are set rolling. but they were brought to you by error and deception about yourself. due to the indissoluble interweaving of character. were they to learn what their most intimate friends really know about them? By knowing ourselves and regarding our nature itself as a changing sphere of opinions and moods. and also that all his fellow men's opinions. even among the closest acquaintances. it is fantasy to believe of ourselves that we have a mile's head start and that all mankind is following our path. you will say to yourself: "How unsure is the ground on which all our bonds and friendships rest. while the same women in a dialogue become females again and rediscover their mind's gracefulness. talent. a scholar who goes unrecognized may certainly count on the fact that other men will also make the same discovery he did. Posterity always interprets lack of recognition as a lack of strength. Just listen to the tone in which men interacting with whole groups of men tend to speak.— Just think to yourself some time how different are the feelings. About friends. how near we are to cold downpours or ill weather. In short. there are exceptions. Posthumous fame. if he learns to perceive that there is this inner inevitability of opinions. and constitute his inner sufferings.— Fathers have much to do to make amends for the fact that they have sons. that determines whether he will honor women in general.— If someone does not have a good father. Friendship and marriage. 383. The perfect woman. . 381.— The best friend will probably get the best wife.— Refined women think that a subject does not exist at all if it is not possible to speak about it in society. the living fool. 382. because a good marriage is based on a talent for friendship. but we have just as good reason to turn this feeling against ourselves. there are no friends!" the "Enemies. or despise them. VII. From the mother. Parents live on. there is no enemy!" shout I. 379. and also something much more rare. since we do in fact bear with ourselves. The natural science of animals offers a means to demonstrate the probability of this tenet. And so let us bear with each other. Fathers and sons.— Everyone carries within him an image of woman that he gets from his mother. 380. Woman and Child 377.— The perfect woman is a higher type of human than the perfect man. dying wise man shouted. and perhaps each man will some day know the more joyful hour in which he says: "Friends. he should acquire one.— Unresolved dissonances in the relation of the character and disposition of the parents continue to reverberate in the nature of the child. or be generally indifferent to them. we have good reason to despise each of our acquaintances. To correct nature. 378. Refined women's error. even the greatest.true. good marriages would be more frequent. but to preserve such a friendship—that no doubt requires the assistance of a slight physical antipathy. Unity of place.— Women are quite able to make friends with a man. 388. most. Different sighs. Maternal goodness.— The surest aid in combating the male's disease of self-contempt is to be loved by a clever woman. An element of love. Love-matches. respected children. 385. Boredom. 390.— When his life and reason are mature. something of maternal love appears also. and drama. 394.— If spouses did not live together.— In every kind of female love. 389.— Many people. because no one wanted to abduct them. Reasonable unreason. man comes to feel that his father was wrong to beget him. because they have never learned to work properly. Friendship with women. 393.384. A male's disease. 391. do not experience boredom. .— Some mothers need happy.— A few men have sighed because their women were abducted. 386. especially women. some need unhappy children: otherwise they cannot demonstrate their goodness as mothers.— Marriages contracted from love (so-called love-matches) have error for their father and need for their mother. A kind of jealousy.— Mothers are easily jealous of their sons' friends if they are exceptionally successful. 392. Usually a mother loves herself in her son more than she loves the son himself. 387. Thus there is no standstill in any love. and vice 'versa. 402. 401.— Women's modesty generally increases with their beauty. Likewise. or the man popular through the woman. draws downwards.— Fiancés who have been brought together by convenience often try to be in love in order to overcome the reproach of cold. while wives are somewhat elevated.— A musician who loves the slow tempo will take the same pieces slower and slower. Long-lasting marriage.— A marriage in which each wants to attain an individual goal through the other holds together well. Loving and possessing. as much as other children to obey. did not advise against it. They would gladly put him under lock and key.— Every association that does not uplift. 397. Teaching to command. too. 399. 398. calculating advantage. for example. 396. therefore men generally sink somewhat when they take wives.— For the sake of love." 403. 395. 400. for in that way the religious pantomime is easier for them. those who turn to Christianity for their advantage try to become truly pious.— Women usually love an important man in such a way that they want to have him to themselves. when the woman wants to be famous through the man. No standstill in love. if their vanity. women wholly become what they are in the imagination of the men who love them. Test of a good marriage. .Usual consequences of marriage. Proteus nature.— A marriage proves itself a good marriage by being able to endure an occasional "exception. Men who are too intellectual need marriage every bit as much as they resist it like a bitter medicine. which wants him to appear important in front of others. To want to be in love .— Children from humble families must be educated to command. Modesty. however you may search them.— Those girls who want to owe their whole life's maintenance to their youthful charms alone. his science and art. Faust and Gretchen dying out. Unless he is distinguished because of . 408. So (to continue the idea). that he no longer resists any apparently complex matter. later they learn that it means holding a man in low esteem to assume that only a girl is needed to make him happy. Masks. his political duties. fears.— Inexperienced girls flatter themselves with the notion that it is within their power to make a man happy. Without rivals. The vanity of women demands that a man be more than a happy husband.— For heaven's sake. The man who associates with such almost spectral. Marriage as a long conversation. yet it is precisely they who are able to arouse the desire of the man most strongly: he seeks for her soul—and goes on seeking. one should ask the question: do you think you will be able to have good conversations with this woman right into old age? Everything else in marriage is transitory. educated men in present-day Germany resemble a combination of Mephistopheles and Wagner. Girls as Gymnasium students.— One can so tire and weaken any man. Honor and honesty.Means to bring everyone to everything . 407. 409. and resent the goals of his ambition. want the same thing as courtesans—only the girls are more clever and less honest. but most of the time in interaction is spent in conversation. if he has a passion for such things. 404. Girlish dreams. do not pass our Gymnasium education on to girls too! For it often turns witty. whom their grandfathers (in their youth at least) felt rumbling within them. but rather gives in to it—that is something diplomats and women know. 406. necessarily unsatisfied beings is to be commiserated with.— There are women who. excessive work and ideas. Gretchens do not suit them for two reasons. 405. fiery youths—into copies of their teachers! 410.— When entering a marriage.— As one scholar very insightfully remarks.— Women easily notice whether a man's soul is already appropriated. by disturbances. and whose cunning is prompted by their shrewd mothers. but certainly not Faust. inquisitive. they want to be loved without rivals. prove to have no content but are purely masks. And because they are no longer desired. it seems that they are dying out. and utilization of all advantages. This is not contradicted by the fact that men actually get so much farther with their intelligence: they have the deeper. . more powerful drives. but its melody comes from the woman. if they are really active. almost everywhere. women have known how to secure for themselves the preponderant advantage. and the father furnishes the darker background of will. so to speak. often generous and conciliatory). for. and why men do not have women support them. presence of mind.— Women's intellect is manifested as perfect control. To say it for those who know how to explain a thing: women have the intelligence. forward.— When feeling hatred. which is in itself something passive. they are inhibited by no considerations of fairness but let their hatred swell undisturbed to the final consequences. His influence determines the rhythm and harmony. and second. A judgment of Hesiod's confirmed. for example. they encourage their lover. Originally. Women are often privately amazed at the great honor men pay to their hearts. become restrained. and he who had the imagination to picture a face. women are more dangerous than men. in choosing their spouse. these take their intelligence. not for a complement. 413. when they see wounds. men the heart and passion. and a woman for an idealized woman—that is. because they are practiced in finding sore spots (which every man. 412. and women for a clever. Even now. The shortsighted are in love. alert. When women hate. warmhearted being. every party has) and stabbing there: then their rapier-sharp mind performs splendid services for them (while men. as housekeepers. like drones in a beehive. It is certainly because male vanity and ambition are greater than female cleverness. a figure twenty years older would perhaps pass through life very undisturbed. they have known how to have others support them. and brilliant being.— Sometimes it requires only a stronger pair of spectacles to cure the lover. 415. they know how to make a disconcerting fuss about it.— An indication of the cleverness of women is that.them: then they hope an amorous tie to him will also make them more distinguished. to which the new life is to be played out. They bequeath it as their fundamental character to their children. when that is the case. indeed domination. 414. 411. When men look especially for a profound. First and foremost because once their hostile feeling has been aroused. one sees very clearly how a man is looking for an idealized man. clever women could use even the care of children to excuse their avoiding work as much as possible. The female intellect. so that men tend to overestimate the merit of their activity tenfold. Just consider the original meaning of this. but for the perfection of their own merits. through submission. they immediately become partisan. Thus. Perhaps all this can change. from the disappointment that almost inevitably enters the life of every woman—to the extent that she even has enough fantasy and sense to be able to be deceived and disappointed. more often to people. indeed. for the time being it is so. Letting oneself be loved. in short. but in such a way that a dead place arises whenever a new personality later gains the upper hand. innocent effect. especially. so that both want to let themselves be loved: in marriage. then it is almost difficult to go completely astray by such sudden decisions. therefore. it happens that vanity convinces each of the two people that he is the one who has to be loved. for example).— The idolatry that women practice when it comes to love is fundamentally and originally a clever device. It could happen that all of the philosophy in the head of an old woman consists of nothing but such dead places. one after the other. half-absurd scenes. the less remains for the other person. the other the beloved. this results in some half-droll.— Because women are so much more personal than objective. as if they were somehow superior. that all matters are not only twosided. as if all women had inspirations of wisdom. and likewise something against it. and suffer more. in that all those idealizations of love heighten their own power and portray them as ever more desirable in the eyes of men. the lightning-fast illuminations of personal relationships by their eruptions of liking and disliking. their statements are interpreted and explained like a sibyl's oracle. However. but three or four-sided. Sometimes. they tend to be enthusiastic about the representatives of these tendencies. 419. On the emancipation of women. even without the Delphic cauldron and the laurel: long afterwards.— Can women be just at all. and accept their systems wholesale. if they are so used to loving. thereby ruining its pure. 416. there is a not insignificant danger when they are entrusted with politics or certain areas of science (history. Contradictions in female heads. the proofs of female injustice have been enwreathed by loving men with a glow. 417. if one considers that something positive can be said for any person or cause. They themselves are now more deceived than men. . But because they have grown accustomed over the centuries to this exaggerated estimation of love.Love. the belief has arisen that in every love affair the amount of love is constant: the more of it one of the two grabs to himself. Inspiration in the judgments of women.— Because one of the two loving people is usually the lover. to feeling immediately pro or con? For this reason they are also less often partial to causes. but if to a cause. their range of ideas can tolerate tendencies that are logically in contradiction with one another. it has happened that they have run into their own net and forgotten the reason behind it. one could say that the nature of things is arranged in such a way that women always win the argument. For what would be more rare than a woman who really knew what science is? The best even nourish in their hearts a secret disdain for it. 418.— Those sudden decisions about pro and con which women tend to make. exceptionally. for one's thirties. this is a fact. it often becomes harmful and promotes a husband's spiritual regression. For one's twenties. free-minded women who set themselves the task of educating and elevating the female sex should not overlook one factor: marriage. As soon as they see up close. hatred. but not necessary. conceived of in its higher interpretation. If one has experienced such struggles. 424.— Those noble. and contorted features. that is. the more they forget how to see what is typical and distinctive about it. they stop being farsighted. Parents' foolishness. and can they no longer compose it into a unity? We notice that travelers in a strange land grasp correctly the common. the spiritual friendship of two people of opposite sexes. in continual struggle with a childish and wrathful mother. or by living. the more they get to know a people. for the rest of his life he will never get over knowing who has been in reality his greatest and most dangerous enemy. if the man in his thirties made an alliance with a quite young girl. and simply accept them. selfcontempt. it is useful. whose education he himself would take in hand. sobs. 421. passions of all kinds). 423. but promote it in the most salutary way. distinctive traits of a people only in the first period of their stay. This woman's love would later be completely transformed into maternal feeling.— The grossest errors in judging a person are made by his parents. for later life. Tragedy of childhood. From the future of marriage. while that other party suffers most at the thought of not having hurt the first enough. perhaps by having to assert their characters against a lowminded father. When parents are required to judge their children. like Lord Byron. for which reason it tries by tears. .420. he might consider whether nature and reason do not dictate that he marry several times in succession. even afterwards.— Once a man's thoughts have gone beyond the demands of custom. aged twenty-two years. but how is one to explain it? Do the parents have too much experience of the child. Who suffers more?— After a personal disagreement and quarrel between a woman and a man. marriage is a necessary institution. he marry an older girl who is spiritually and morally superior to him and can guide him through the dangers of his twenties (ambition.— Not infrequently. so that first. to weigh down the other person's heart. it is perhaps their customary thoughtlessness that makes them judge so mistakenly. Opportunity for female generosity. the one party suffers most at the thought of having hurt the other. who is devoted to pretense and mendacity. 422. and she would not only tolerate it. Might parents judge their child wrongly because they have never stood far enough off from him? A quite different explanation would be the following: men tend to stop thinking about things that are closest to them. noble-minded and ambitious men have to endure their harshest struggle in childhood. probably requires and must be provided with a natural aid: concubinage. Posterity becomes a coincidental objective. even men—not in the sexual sense. highly improbable. everything enduring and definitive. and of course they will also have to take male weaknesses and vices into the bargain. childbearer. from his body. like marriage. head of the family. occasional means for a higher end. after they have given up custom? 426. But how will we endure the intermediate stage it brings with it. prefer to fly alone. they must. That is why the free spirit hates all habits and rules. under such an influence. like the prophetic birds of ancient times. and will be intent on standing outside custom in every way. permit only a moderate degree of practical idealization.— Will free spirits live with women? In general. which uses sensuality as if it were only a rare. counter to the goals we have indicated. its successful education. then we notice that the fibres have become traps. This much.— Everything habitual draws an ever tighter net of spiderwebs around us. because they desired the delights of a mentally and emotionally liberating sociability. Such a marriage.marriage as hoped for by the future. A good wife. Indeed. . Thus. the opposite of what happened in Pericles' times in Athens could occur in the future: men. who should be friend. which only the grace and spiritual flexibility of women can provide. All human institutions. who perhaps has to run her own business or office separate from her husband. 425. entered into for the purpose of begetting and raising a new generation. where will they not have to reach to achieve a similar abundance of power again. turned to Aspasias [Aspasia: an Athenian courtesan. that is why. the mistress of Pericles] as well. even though he will suffer as a consequence from countless large and small wounds—for he must tear those fibres away from himself. like a spider that got caught there and must feed on its own blood. will be decisive in choosing a wife. 427. mother. politics will be more fantastic and partisan than ever. as I said. I believe that. failing which.— In the three or four civilized European countries. and that we ourselves are sitting in the middle. he painfully tears apart the net around him. still claim predominance over everything they will have learned or achieved? This will be the time when anger will constitute the real male emotion. Happiness of marriage. indeed. which itself can last a few centuries. He must learn to love where he used to hate. as the true-thinking. his soul. Free spirit and marriage. manager. anger over the fact that all the arts and sciences will be overrun and clogged up by shocking dilettantism. one can bring about by force. one can in a few centuries educate women to be anything one wants. the preservers of the old custom. society will be in complete dissolution because women. cannot be a concubine at the same time: it would usually be asking too much of her. whose wives were not much more than concubines then. again and again. helpmate. crude measures immediately become necessary. At some point. will have become ludicrous in their own eyes. truth-speaking men of the present. but certainly in every other sense. Women's period of storm and stress. they will have taken on all male virtues and strengths. for reasons of the man's health. a false point of view. bewildering chatter will talk philosophy to death. during which female follies and injustices. of course. For if women had their greatest power in custom. his wife is also to serve for the sole satisfaction of his sexual need. and vice versa. their ancient birthright. For if. debt. and the free spirit wants not to be served. Contemporaries tend to overlook their great men's many mistakes and follies. even gross injustices. and therein lies his happiness. Without noticing it. not even to sow dragons' teeth on the same field where he previously emptied the cornucopias of his kindness.— Women's natural inclination to a quiet. Not infrequently a woman finds in herself the ambition to offer herself for this sacrifice. dirty paper in our hands and nothing more. One always loses by all-too-intimate association with women and friends. compared with the bondage of the golden cradle. the peacock-tail fan. From this one can judge whether he is cut out for the happiness of marriage. automatically works against the heroic inner urgency of the free spirit. 430. 429. women act as if they were removing the stones from the traveling mineralogist's path so that he will not bump his foot against them—whereas he has gone forth so that his foot shall strike against them. one day we have poor. Dissonance of two consonants. illness. loss. by nothing so much as by becoming a vessel. and therein lies their happiness. and the oppressive feeling of having to be actually grateful because he is waited upon and spoiled like an infant? That is why the milk offered him by the maternal disposition of the women around him can so easily turn to bile. The golden cradle. Voluntary sacrificial animal. What is the harm in the colder draft of air that they had warded off so anxiously? What does one real disadvantage. if the latter are famous and great.— The free spirit will always breathe a sigh of relief when he has finally decided to shake off the maternal care and protection administered by the women around him. storm. Pleasant adversaries. the oil-like and calming aspect of their influence on the sea of life. if only they can find someone whom they may abuse and slaughter as a veritable sacrificial animal to relieve their feelings.nothing may be impossible for him. and then the man can of course be very contented—in the case that he is egoist enough to tolerate in his vicinity such a voluntary conductor of lightning. it is as if we kept touching a good etching with our bare fingers. . 428. happily harmonious existence and society. and sometimes one loses the pearl of his life in the process. and rain.— If we live in too close proximity to a person. or folly more or less in his life matter. 432. 431.— Women want to serve. accident. at least it finally appears that way to us—we never see its original design and beauty again. A human being's soul is likewise worn down by continual touching. Too close.— Significant women bring relief to the lives of their husbands. regular. for other people's general ill-will and occasional bad humor. so to speak. That is why.— There are many kinds of hemlock.— As greatly as women honor their husbands. set by a god on the neck of the beautiful horse Athens to keep it from coming to rest. with their hands folded on their breast. they drop themselves like a drag onto the wheels of any freethinking. and even disdained. Xanthippe drove him more and more into his strange profession. who finally had to compare himself to a pesky horsefly. come to the tenet that in questions of the highest philosophical kind. Power and freedom.— Just as mothers cannot really perceive or see more than the perceptible and visible pains of their children. which scarcely any rays from the distant heavens are able to penetrate. So I. To disapprove of women's methods arid generously to honor the motives for these methods: that is man's way. 437. security. all married people are suspect. especially when the husbands convince themselves that it is love that is really spurring the wives on. and often enough man's despair. Women always intrigue secretly against their husband's higher soul. so wives of very ambitious men cannot bring themselves to see their husbands suffering. Xanthippe. Ceterum censeo. by making his house and home inhospitable and unhomely. he is spreading out over his telescope a thick veil. What do the women around him do then? They will cry and lament and perhaps disturb the thinker's . 434. she taught him to live in the back streets. they honor the powers and ideas recognized by society even more.]— It is ludicrous when a have-not society declares the abolition of inheritance rights. moreover. Finally. a livelihood. and in that way formed him into Athens' greatest backstreet dialectician. and anywhere where one could chatter and be idle.433. for thousands of years they have been used to walking bowed over in front of all forms of rule. they want to cheat it out of its future for the sake of a painless. but also the guarantee that their goals will have to be attained sooner or later. too. but rather as if out of instinct. But it seems just as nonsensical if a man who has chosen as his task the acquisition of the most general knowledge and the evaluation of the whole of existence weighs himself down with personal considerations of a family. Blind at a distance. comfortable present. without even intending to.— Socrates found the kind of woman he needed—but not even he would have sought her out had he known her well enough. while perhaps all this is not only the sign that they have chosen their way of life correctly. [It is my opinion. not even the heroism of this free spirit would have gone that far. and no less ludicrous when childless people work on the practical laws of a country: they do not have enough ballast in their ship to be able to sail surely into the ocean of the future. and fate usually finds an opportunity to set a cup of this poison to the lips of the free spirit—to "punish" him. in want. independent striving. as everyone then says. respect of his wife and child. 436. and in some circumstances make their husbands most impatient. disapproving of any revolt against public power. 435. In fact. To demand equality of rights. VIII. that everyone should live and work according to such a standard. humming and fluttering of the countless insects that live in. and if this feeling of self-determination.— Soon afterwards. what good is there in doubting it? They want for once to forge for themselves their own fortunes and misfortunes.— Noble (if not particularly judicious) representatives of the ruling class can by all means vow: let us treat men as equals. or even just many.— If one holds up bleeding chunks of meat to an animal and takes them away again until it finally roars: do you think this roaring has anything to do with justice? . A Glance at the State 438. their goal is not to be encompassed by any clumsy hand that has only five fingers. all is lost. and there may also be a degree of pride attached to staying silent when too many. pride in the five or six ideas their head contains and brings forth. as the socialists of the subject caste do. so very seriously and are now and then guilty of an ironic posture. concede to them equal rights. whereby much becomes audible. To this extent a socialist mode of thought resting on justice is possible. then these as-many-as-possible are entitled to determine what they understand by an endurable life. ["When the mob joins in and adds its voice. Then these few must be forgiven if they fail to take the happiness of the many. now more than ever. whether by the many one understands nations or social classes. which in this case practices justice with sacrifices and selfdenials. only within the rules of the ruling class. 451. for in this domain there apply the words of Voltaire: quand la populace se mêle de raisonner. as they did in the prison of Athens. on the other hand. have someone take these women away!" said Socrates at last. for their seriousness is located elsewhere. if the purpose of all politics really is to make life endurable for as many as possible. are speaking. always presupposing that this narrow-mindedness does not go so far as to demand that everything should become politics in this sense. Justice as party call-notes. so still that the buzzing. from time to time there comes to them— what it will certainly be hardest to concede to them but must be conceded to them nonetheless —a moment when they emerge from their silent solitude and again try the power of their lungs: for then they call to one another like those gone astray in a wood in order to locate and encourage one another. Permission to speak!— The demagogic character and the intention to appeal to the masses is at present common to all political parties: on account of this intention they are all compelled to transform their principles into great al fresco stupidities and thus to paint them on the wall. above and beneath it can again clearly be heard. is never an emanation of justice but of greed. This is no longer alterable. to refrain from politics and to step a little aside: they too are prompted to this by pleasure in selfdetermination. Finally. but. that sounds ill to ears for which it is not intended. tout est perdu. to be sure. though. indeed it would be pointless to raise so much as a finger against it. For a few must first of all be allowed. there is little to be objected to.twilight peace. it is again still in the wood. their happiness is something quite different."] Since this has happened one has to accommodate oneself when an earthquake has displaced the former boundaries and contours of the ground and altered the value of one's property. as aforesaid. in fact renders their life so pleasant to them they are happy to bear the calamitous consequences of their narrow-mindedness. if they trust to their intellect also to discover the right means of attaining this goal. Moreover. "O Crito. — The overturning of opinions does not immediately follow upon the overturning of institutions: the novel opinions continue. rather. My utopia.— A man may be justly proud of an unbroken line of good ancestors down to his father—not however of the line itself. Descent from good ancestors constitutes the real nobility of birth. 458. then let his friendship be sought. dissolute. sometimes proceed one way and sometimes another. one bad ancestor. Every one who talks about his nobility should be asked: "Have you no violent. The cynic thinks differently concerning the matter. they also desire more submissive instruments. expressed more simply. 462. avaricious. their knowledge of mankind is usually much smaller. 457. and in general all who have to employ many people to carry out their plans.— In a better ordering of society the heavy work and exigencies of life will be apportioned to him who suffers least as a consequence of them. and even keep it in good condition because they have nowhere else to live. to live on for a long time in the deserted and by now uncomfortable house of their predecessors. while every one must acknowledge to himself that in all respects slaves live more securely and more happily than modern laborers. but. . These latter minds are the more high handed." We protest in the name of the "dignity of man". their contempt of mankind greater than in the case of the first mentioned class. destroys the nobility of birth. Slaves and laborers. a single break in the chain. Pride of descent. but out of every piece of clay they form something useful for their purpose. and that slave labor is very easy labor compared with that of the "laborer. cruel man amongst your ancestors?" If with good cognizance and conscience he can answer No. wicked.— The fact that we regard the gratification of vanity as of more account than all other forms of well-being (security. to be the hardest lot of all. they either choose with great skill and care the people suitable for their plans. position. 466. New opinions in an old house. that is just our darling vanity which feels non-equality. because he despises honour— and so Diogenes was for some time a slave and tutor. is shown to a ludicrous extent by every one wishing for the abolition of slavery and utterly abhorring to put any one into this position (apart altogether from political reasons). Leading minds and their instruments. but the machines they construct generally work better than the machines from the workshops of the former. therefore. or else they choose badly. and inferiority in public estimation. and thus step by step up to him who is most sensitive to the most highly sublimated species of suffering and who therefore suffers even when life is alleviated to the greatest degree possible.— We see that great statesmen. because they know that the nature of the persons selected impels them precisely to the point where they themselves would have them go. and then leave them a comparatively large amount of liberty. in fact take whatever comes to hand. for every one has that.456. that is to say to the most insensible. and pleasures of all sorts). — Almost every politician has at some time or other such need of an honest man that he breaks into a sheepstall like a ravenous wolf: not. force and falsehood to maintain a front of respectability. inasmuch as it is here that their energy and higher intelligence. so as then to eat the ram he has stolen. the possession in common of all higher culture. indeed dangerous qualities: it is cruel to demand that the Jew should constitute an exception. it is thanks not least to their efforts that a more natural. however. Scholars as politicians.— Scholars who become politicians are usually allotted the comic role of being the good conscience of a party's policy. it was the Jewish freethinkers. not without us all being to blame. that of European man. but so as to hide himself behind its woolly back. so that in every nation—and the more so the more nationalistic posture the nation is again adopting— there is gaining ground the literary indecency of leading the Jews to the sacrificial slaughter as scapegoats for every possible public or private misfortune. 475. and of certain classes of business and society.— Trade and industry. yet this mixing will nonetheless go slowly forward in spite of that temporary countercurrent: this artificial nationalism is in any case as perilous as artificial Catholicism used to be. the nomadic life now lived by all who do not own land—these circumstances are necessarily bringing with them a weakening and finally an abolition of nations. in a total accounting. must come to preponderate to a degree calculated to arouse envy and hatred. but above all the interests of certain princely dynasties. at least the European. possesses unpleasant. under the harshest personal constraint. It is not the interests of the many (the peoples). rational and in any event . The wolf behind the sheep. the mightiest book and the most efficacious moral code in the world. one should not be afraid to proclaim oneself simply a good European and actively to work for the amalgamation of nations. consciously or unconsciously. for it is in its essence a forcibly imposed state of siege and self-defense inflicted on the many by the few and requires cunning. — Incidentally: the entire problem of the Jews exists only within national states. European man and the abolition of nations . the post and the booktrade. The Germans are. Every nation. rapid changing of home and scene. I should like to know how much must. held firmly to the banner of enlightenment and intellectual independence and defended Europe against Asia. have had the most grief-laden history of any people and whom we have to thank for the noblest human being (Christ). their capital in will and spirit accumulated from generation to generation in a long school of suffering. be forgiven a people who. 470. through their ancient and tested quality of being the interpreter and mediator between peoples. the purest sage (Spinoza). In him these qualities may even be dangerous and repellent to an exceptional degree. as is no doubt claimed. the Jew will be just as usable and desirable as an ingredient of it as any other national residue. that impel to this nationalism. Moreover: in the darkest periods of the Middle Ages. scholars and physicians who. This goal is at present being worked against. able to be of assistance. by the separation of nations through the production of national hostilities. and perhaps the youthful stockexchange Jew is the most repulsive invention of the entire human race. every man. Nonetheless. so that as a consequence of continual crossing a mixed race.469. once one has recognized this fact. As soon as it is no longer a question of the conserving of nations but of the production of the strongest possible European mixed race. must come into being out of them. when the cloudbanks of Asia had settled low over Europe. War indispensable. that common fire in the destruction of the enemy. mountain-climbings. but they will perhaps increasingly reveal that so highly cultivated and for that reason necessarily feeble humanity as that of the presentday European requires not merely war but the greatest and most terrible wars—thus a temporary relapse into barbarism—if the means to culture are not to deprive them of their culture and of their existence itself. One will be able to discover many other such surrogates for war. will later under favorable circumstances turn the wheels in the workshops of the spirit with newfound energy. Topsy-turvy world. navigations. that proud indifference to great losses.unmythical elucidation of the world could at last again obtain victory and the ring of culture that now unites us with the enlightenment of Graeco-Roman antiquity remain unbroken. Culture can in no way do without passions. in truth so as to bring home with them superfluous energy acquired through adventures and perils of all kinds. Enemies of truth. . vices and acts of wickedness. though they carry with them rocks and rubbish of every kind and ruin the pastures of tenderer cultures. that profound impersonal hatred. Judaism has always played an essential part in occidentalizing it again: which in a certain sense means making of Europe’s mission and history a continuation of the Greek. Present-day Englishmen. gladiatorial combats and the persecution of Christians.— Convictions are more dangerous enemies of truth than lies. earthquake-like shuddering of the soul. 485.— It is vain reverie and beautiful-soulism to expect much more (let alone only then to expect much) of mankind when it has unlearned how to wage war. and yet it would be more reasonable to do this when we find his tenet agreeable. who seem also on the whole to have renounced war. could be communicated more surely or strongly than every great war communicates them: the streams and currents that here break forth.— Public opinions—private indolence. that murderous cold-bloodedness with a good conscience. IX. And to repeat. to one's own existence and that of one's friends. If Christianity has done everything to orientalize the Occident. undertaken for scientific ends as they claim. Man Alone with Himself 483. 482. that inarticulate.— When the Romans of the imperial era had grown a little tired of war they tried to gain new energy through animalbaiting.— We criticize a thinker more sharply when he proposes a tenet that is disagreeable to us. 484. For the present we know of no other means by which that rude energy that characterizes the camp. seize on a different means of again engendering their fading energies: those perilous journeys of discovery. 477. Calm in action. The one necessary thing. Not too deep.— People who comprehend a matter in all its depth seldom remain true to it forever.A person of character. the national good. it needs exactly the same foul-smelling manure that all other human undertakings require.— He who directs his passion to things (the sciences.— Men seldom endure a profession if they do not believe or persuade themselves that it is basically more important than all others. against his own spying and sieges. 493. . For they have brought its depths to the light. usually he is able to make out no more of himself than his outer fortifications. The right profession. Self-observation. The actual stronghold is inaccessible to him. 486.— All idealists imagine that the causes they serve are significantly better than the other causes in the world. Passion for things. even invisible. and artier represent their creations).— As a waterfall becomes slower and more floating as it plunges. 492. unless friends and enemies turn traitor and lead him there by a secret path. 487. cultural interests. 490.— It is much more common for a person to appear to have character because he always acts in accord with his temperament. 488. philosophers. rather than because he always acts in accord with his principles. Idealists' delusion. 491. or a disposition made cheerful by art and knowledge.— A person must have one or the other. the arts) takes much of the fire out of his passion for people (even when they represent those things. so the great man of action will act with greater calm than could be expected from his violent desire before the deed. and then there is always much to see about it that is bad. 489. Either a cheerful disposition by nature. they do not want to believe that if their cause is to flourish at all. as statesmen.— Man is very well defended against himself. Women do the same with their lovers. The infuriating thing about an individual way of living . Friend. Unwittingly noble. 497.Nobility of mind. 499." they say. after a time.— People are always angry at anyone who chooses very individual standards for his life. Destination and paths. few people about the destination. and then the one that. The modest one.— Fellow rejoicing [Mitfreude]. Condition for being a hero. like ordinary beings.— For the purpose of knowledge. 495. one must know how to use that inner current that draws us to a thing.— A man's behavior is unwittingly noble if he has grown accustomed never to want anything from men. nobility of mind consists of good nature and lack of distrust. Using high and low tides. they feel degraded. 498. now fellow suffering [Mitleiden]. That is his revenge.— If a man wants to become a hero. 502. 500. or mankind). .— "Delight in an enterprise.— It is the privilege of greatness to grant supreme pleasure through trifling gifts.— Many people are obstinate about the path once it is taken. makes the friend. by means of an enterprise. and always to give to them. Privilege of greatness. but in truth it is delight in oneself. society. Delight in oneself. 496. epoch. draws us away from it. because of the extraordinary treatment which that man grants to himself. 501. the snake must first become a dragon: otherwise he is lacking his proper enemy.— He who is modest with people shows his arrogance all the more with things (the city.— To a great degree. state. and thus contains precisely that which acquisitive and successful people so like to treat with superiority and scorn. 494. g. we usually need reasons to be consoled. 504..503.— When some reason (e. The comparison can perhaps be pursued further. Reasons for consolation. this is the basis of the general goodwill. Everyone superior in one thing. not so much to soften the force of our pain. Envy and jealousy. gratitude) obliges us to maintain the appearance of unqualified congeniality with people about whose own congenial behavior we are not entirely convinced. as to excuse the fact that we feel consoled so easily. Loyal to their convictions.— We like to be out in nature so much because it has no opinion about us. these people torment our imagination much more than do our enemies. 509. 511. 506. under certain conditions. 510. Annoyance. Out in nature. 507. More troublesome than enemies. everyone feels superior to everyone else in at least one way.— The man who has a lot to do usually keeps his general views and opinions almost unchanged. and need therefore feel no shame in allowing himself to be helped.— The champions of truth are hardest to find. can be of help.— In civilized circumstances. inasmuch as everyone is someone who. 508. Representatives of truth.— When someone dies. . as does each person who works in the service of an idea. Indeed. The most refined hypocrite.— Annoyance is a physical illness that is by no means ended simply by eliminating the cause of the annoyance. He will never test the idea itself any more.— Envy and jealousy are the pudenda of the human soul. 505. but rather when it is boring. not when it is dangerous to tell it.— To speak about oneself not at all is a very refined form of hypocrisy. it is contrary to his interest even to think it possible to discuss it. he no longer has time for that. however objective he may appear to himself—ultimately he reaps nothing but his own biography. 517. The other man is pulled down by occupying himself with small things.— No river is great and bounteous through itself alone. Greatness means: to give a direction. but rather a condition for it. 518. in a narrow sphere. 521.— Over the course of history. men learn that iron necessity is neither iron nor necessary. Human lot. Iron necessity.— However far man may extend himself with his knowledge. 514. whatever his acts and judgments.512. but rather because it takes up so many tributaries and carries them onwards: that makes it . Life as the product of life.— There is no pre-established harmony between the furthering of truth and the good of mankind. 516. 515.— No one dies of fatal truths nowadays: there are too many antidotes. Basic insight. Morality and quantity.— We belong to a time in which culture is in danger of being destroyed by the means of culture. Truth. From experience. 513.— That something is irrational is no argument against its existence. Truth as Circe. 519.— Error has turned animals into men. might truth be capable of turning man into an animal again? 520. in contrast to another's.— Whoever thinks more deeply knows that he is always wrong. often lies only in the fact that his goals are quantitatively larger.— One man's greater morality. Danger of our culture. great. It is the same with all great minds. All that matters is that one man give the direction, which the many tributaries must then follow; it does not matter whether he is poorly or richly endowed in the beginning. 522. Weak conscience.— Men who talk about their importance for mankind have a weak conscience about their common bourgeois honesty in keeping contracts or promises. 523. Wanting to be loved.— The demand to be loved is the greatest kind of arrogance. 524. Contempt for people.— The least ambiguous sign of a disdain for people is this: that one tolerates everyone else only as a means to one's own end, or not at all. 525. Disciples out of disagreement.— Whoever has brought men to a state of rage against himself has always acquired a party in his favor, too. 526. Forgetting one's experiences.— It is easy for a man who thinks a lot—and objectively—to forget his own experiences, but not the thoughts that were evoked by them. 527. Adhering to an opinion.— One man adheres to an opinion because he prides himself on having come upon it by himself; another because he has learned it with effort, and is proud of having grasped it: thus both out of vanity. 528. Shunning the light.— The good deed shuns the light as anxiously as the evil deed: the latter fears that, if it is known, pain (as punishment) will follow; the former fears that, if it is known, joy (that pure joy in oneself, which ceases as soon as it includes the satisfaction of one's vanity) will disappear. 529. The day's length.— If a man has a great deal to put in them, a day will have a hundred pockets. 530. Tyrant-genius.— If the soul stirs with an ungovernable desire to assert itself tyranically, and the fire is continually maintained, then even a slight talent (in politicians or artists) gradually becomes an almost irresistible force of nature. 531. The life of the enemy.— Whoever lives for the sake of combating an enemy has an interest in the enemy's staying alive. 532. More important.— The unexplained, obscure matter is taken as more important than the explained, clear one. 533. Evaluating services rendered.— We evaluate services someone renders us according to the value that person places on them, not according to the value they have for us. 534. Unhappiness.— The distinction that lies in being unhappy (as if to feel happy were a sign of shallowness, lack of ambition, ordinariness) is so great that when someone says, "But how happy you must be!" we usually protest. 535. Fantasy of fear.— The fantasy of fear is that malevolent, apelike goblin which jumps onto man's back just when he already has the most to bear. 536. Value of insipid opponents.— Sometimes we remain true to a cause only because its opponents will not stop being insipid. 537. Value of a profession.— A profession makes us thoughtless: therein lies its greatest blessing. For it is a bulwark, behind which we are allowed to withdraw when qualms and worries of a general kind attack us. 538. Talent.— The talent of some men appears slighter than it is because they have always set themselves tasks that are too great. 539. Youth.— The time of youth is disagreeable, for then it is not possible, or not reasonable, to be productive in any sense. 540. Goals too great.— Who publicly sets himself great goals, and later realizes privately that he is too weak to accomplish them, does not usually have enough strength to revoke those goals publicly, either, and then inevitably becomes a hypocrite. 541. In the stream.— Strong currents draw many stones and bushes along with them; strong minds many stupid and muddled heads. 542. Danger of intellectual liberation .— When a man tries earnestly to liberate his intellect, his passions and desires secretly hope to benefit from it also. 543. Embodiment of the spirit.— When we think much and sagaciously not only our face but our body too assumes a sagacious appearance. 544. Seeing badly and listening badly .— He who sees badly sees less and less; he who listens badly hears more than has been said. 545. Self-enjoyment in vanity.— The vain man wants not so much to predominate as to feel himself predominant; that is why he disdains no means of self-deception and self-outwitting. What he treasures is not the opinion of others but his own opinion of their opinion. 546. Vain exceptionally.— He who is usually self-sufficient is vain and receptive to fame and commendation on exceptional occasions, namely when he is physically ill. To the extent that he feels himself diminishing he has to try to recoup himself from outside through the opinion of others. 547. The "rich in spirit."— He has no spirit who seeks spirit. 548. Hint for party chiefs.— If we can force people to declare themselves publicly for something, we have usually also brought them to the point of declaring themselves for it privately; they want to continue to be perceived as consistent. 549. — In order to predict the behavior of ordinary men. 556. Destruction follows in any case. he who remains in tradition is its slave.— There are slavish souls who carry their thanks for favors so far that they actually strangle themselves with the rope of gratitude. 559. 554. Industriousness and conscientiousness. 552. Trick of the prophet. but conscientiousness lets them hang too long. for example. 553. 551. Superficial knowledge. The only human right. Rope of gratitude.— Industriousness and conscientiousness are often antagonists. we try to make suspect.— Many men wait all their lives for the opportunity to be good in their way. 555. Lower than the animal. Dangerous helpfulness.— When man howls with laughter. 558. we must assume that they always expend the least possible amount of intellect to free themselves from a disagreeable situation. 557. Suspicion. he surpasses all animals by his coarseness.Contempt.— He who strays from tradition becomes a sacrifice to the extraordinary. .— There are people who want to make men's lives more difficult for no other reason than afterwards to offer them their prescriptions for making life easier—their Christianity.— People whom we cannot tolerate.— He who speaks a bit of a foreign language has more delight in it than he who speaks it well. pleasure goes along with superficial knowledge. until they drop off the tree and come to nothing. in that industriousness wants to take the fruits off the tree while still sour.— Man is more sensitive to contempt from others than to contempt from himself. 550. Lacking the circumstances. which is of great advantage to their own importance.— A man suffers little from unfulfilled wishes if he has trained his imagination to think of the past as hateful. rise above the one being imitated — something which people love. Many a man owes his friends simply to the fortunate circumstance that he has no cause for envy. malicious slanderers. 566.— A want of friends points to envy or arrogance.— Love and hatred are not blind. Made an enemy to one's advantage. The role according to the voice . but are blinded by the fire they themselves carry with them. we are most in danger of being run over. 563. In danger. Being a target.— He who wants to set a good example must add a grain of foolishness to his virtue. other people's vicious talk about us is not actually aimed at us.Want of friends. .— Often.— Men who are unable to make their merit completely clear to the world seek to awaken an intense enmity towards themselves. Model for others. then others can imitate and. one often stands less secure than with one talent the less: as the table stands better on three legs than on four. Some people become conspirators. or before a large audience) generally exaggerates what he has to communicate. but expresses their annoyance or ill humor arising from quite different reasons. Love and hatred. 567. Easily resigned. or schemers.— He who is forced to speak more loudly than is his habit (as in front of someone hard of hearing. merely because their voice is best suited to a whisper. at the same time. Then they have the comfort of thinking that this stands between their merit and its recognition—and that other people assume the same thing. 565. 564. Danger in multiplicity.— When we have just gotten out of the way of a vehicle. 561.— With one talent the more. 560. 568. 562. when he has no eyes for it. Our own opinions. at the bottom of his heart. Self-sufficiency.— He who feels that he exercises a great inner influence on another must leave him quite free rein.— The flame is not so bright to itself as to those on whom it shines: so too the wise man. but not against pin-pricks. Magical vanity.— He who has boldly prophesied the weather three times and has been successful.Confession. It is the sign of a tyrannical and ignoble nature to see one's . 573. Danger in the doctor.— A man is either born for his doctor. or else he perishes by his doctor. position. 576. 570.— The ordinary man is courageous and invulnerable like a hero when he does not see the danger. in his own prophetic gift. but usually the other person does not forget it. the hero's one vulnerable spot is on his back. 569. 575. Conversely. but only the customary one. We do not dispute what is magical or irrational when it flatters our self-esteem.— A profession is the backbone of life. Shadow in the flame.— The golden fleece of self-sufficiency protects against thrashings. 572.— Whoever has established something great with a selfless frame of mind takes care to bring up heirs. 574. 577. appropriate to our caste.— We forget our guilt when we have confessed it to another. that is. where he has no eyes. believes a bit. 571. our own opinions seldom swim near the surface. Giving the heir his due. Profession. Danger of personal influence. indeed must look with favor on his occasional resistance and even bring it about: otherwise he will inevitably make himself an enemy. or parentage.— The first opinion that occurs to us when we are suddenly asked about a matter is usually not our own. Origin of courage. but it needs one more drop of water: the good will to passion (which is generally also called the bad will).— People are like piles of charcoal in the woods. one enjoys the same good things for the first time.— Inconsiderate thinking is often the sign of a discordant inner state which craves numbness. Bad memory. Only this little point is necessary. Residual vanity.opponents in all the possible heirs of one's work and to live in a state of self-defense against them. 582. by begging it in small change. is the left-over and full-grown habit stemming from that time when they still had no right to believe in themselves. Punctum saliens [salient point] of passion. 578. Martyr. then the vessel runs over. 581. As long as they smolder and smoke they are perhaps more interesting. A little knowledge. 579. do they become useful.— He who thinks much is not suited to be a party member: too soon. thus resulting in opinions that are more comprehensible and persuasive. 580.— He who is about to fall into a state of anger or violent love reaches a point where his soul is full like a vessel. he thinks himself through and beyond the party. and all too often troublesome. several times over. and only acquired their belief from others. Bad-tempered thought.— A little knowledge is more successful than complete knowledge: it conceives things as simpler than they are. Not suited to be a party member. 584.— The advantage of a bad memory is that. . and carbonized. Only when young people have stopped glowing.— The disciple of a martyr suffers more than the martyr. as charcoal does. who should not need to be vain. 583.— The vanity of some people. Causing oneself pain. but useless. 585. or the inescapable "faults of its virtues"—perhaps because we ourselves have participated to a large degree in them. his ordeal. rather than to penetrate its imperfection and reject it.— True modesty (that is. 591. cleverness would strongly advise against immodesty. and it well suits the great mind. Then we turn our back on them and seek an opposite direction. or epoch. or mysterious punishment for something he had done earlier. or to develop them in ourselves. or party. good sides. Arrogance as the last means of comfort. To be sure. he is thereby making his own nature interesting. Modesty. To this extent. treating them imperiously and watching to see how much they can stand. 587. but what good are the machines when all individuals (that is. the knowledge that we are not our own creations) does exist. mankind) serve only to keep them going? Machines that are their own end—is that the umana commedia? 586. it takes a stronger gaze and a better will to further that which is evolving and imperfect. To set against or set to work?— We often make the mistake of actively opposing a direction. 589. One does not hate the great man's immodesty because he is feeling his strength.— Life consists of rare. . isolated moments of the greatest significance. and of innumerably many intervals. The first thought of the day. if in fact they ever do get a chance to speak completely.— The best way to begin each day well is to think upon awakening whether we could not give at least one person pleasure on this day. or his illness by seeing them as his predetermined fate. springtime. the moon. If this practice could be accepted as a substitute for the religious habit of prayer. and imagining himself superior to his fellow men. because he particularly can comprehend the thought of his complete lack of responsibility (even for whatever good he creates). but it would be better to look for the strong. and makes men doubt his greatness.Mankind unsparingly uses every individual as material to heat its great machines. during which at best the silhouettes of those moments hover about us. mountains. The proud sinner is a familiar figure in all religious sects.— If a man accounts for a misfortune. its stunted aspect. every beautiful melody. because we coincidentally get to see only its superficial side. 588. this actually proves that he lacks a secure sense of his strength. and are themselves intervals and intermissions in the symphony of real life. For many men do not have those moments at all. our fellow men would benefit by this change. The hour-hand of life. the sea—all these speak completely to the heart but once. 590. Most often. Love. or his intellectual inadequacies. but rather because he wants to feel it primarily by wounding others. that even when he displeases. considerate. The more volcanic the earth.— So long as a man has not yet become the instrument of the universal human good. we also think we now have to act like judges. Philosophical novices. only to a much greater degree and indirectly. it will humanize him in small matters. prison. because we have acknowledged a book of laws.Growth of happiness.— Near to the sorrow of the world. ambition may torment him. he seems nevertheless to be pleasing. 592. Casus belli and the like . they rejoice at the thought that this will enable their doctrines to be engraved and branded upon mankind. or as one who yields and resigns himself. Both the free spirit and the true believer want power. but if he has achieved that goal. desire the same thing as those who do not want to be noticed. or execution. they accept it as a painful but potent means to attain power after all. and want to please. if of necessity he is working like a machine for the good of all. make him more sociable.— It is reasonable to develop further the talent that one's father or grandfather worked hard at. and often upon its volcanic earth. too. The street of one's ancestors. by means of a step that seems to be distancing them from their goal. unheard-of judgment about everything. 596. in order to use it to please. and thereby displease. we go through the streets feeling as if we had been transformed and had become great men. if they are threatened because of their doctrines with a dire fate. 595. man has laid out his little gardens of happiness.— If we have just partaken of a philosopher's wisdom. Pleasing by displeasing. persecution. then vanity may enter. and not switch to something entirely new. once ambition has completed the rough work (of making him useful).— The prince who discovers a casus belli for an earlier decision to wage war against his neighbor is like a father who imposes a mother upon his child. otherwise one is depriving himself of the chance to attain perfection in some one craft. the greater the happiness will be—but it would be ludicrous to say that this happiness justified suffering per se. tolerable." 593. they display their superiority.— People who prefer to be noticed. whether he approaches life as one who wants only knowledge from existence. 594. even if it is felt as disagreeable: for they know that the man who has finally gained power pleases in almost everything he does and says. Vanity and ambition as educators. although it is delayed acting. for we encounter only people who do not know this wisdom. to be . and thus we have to deliver a new. Thus the saying: "Which street should you take?—that of your ancestors. Because they want to have influence and power. or as one who rejoices in a difficulty overcome—everywhere he will find some happiness sprouting up next to the trouble. friends. most vulgar sense. hatred . one demands from other people. it is true that they would not help us if we really were in great danger and wanted to lean on them. 600. Likewise. doubts them. one really seems to be more but the faith in being much has been lost. 598. It is conceivable that the man who is above the applause of his contemporaries is nevertheless unable to refuse himself the satisfaction of little vanities. and. we need a railing. with a good bit of sourness still remaining. Later. he who denies himself much in large matters will easily indulge himself in small matters. he who refuses the respect of his contemporaries will conceive it in a base way. our soul becomes dry and unsuited even to understanding the tender inventions of loving people. Incidentally. along with it. he thus makes his renunciation of it and the fight against it easier for himself. Older. In drawing passion to his side. teachers. philosophies. as we generally know all three). Likewise. learn to be kind. 599. 601. we need people who unconsciously offer us the service of that railing. fathers. if education or chance give us no opportunity to practice these feelings. at the bottom of his heart. Likewise.— We must learn to love. and this from earliest youth. in which one is angry at his lot of having to be so much and seem so little. and remember with emotion this beautiful time of life. Passions and rights. unless one remain throughout his life vanity's hopeless fool. but rather to achieve the visual image of security. an arrogant gesture. when we are young. or a tone of voice. it is the time of first ripeness.— When walking around the top of an abyss.— The true period of arrogance for talented men comes between their twenty-sixth and thirtieth year. The age of arrogance. experienced men smile about it.— He who protests against marriage. Deceptive and yet firm. This a fine ear and eye will recognize in all the products of those years. Learning to love. respect and humility. in the manner of Catholic priests. but they give us the comforting sensation of protection nearby (for example. The renouncing man's trick. On the basis of what one feels inside himself.— No one speaks more passionately about his rights than the man who. success with his fellow men. he wants to deaden reason and its doubts: he thus gains a good conscience. or paintings and music. one takes vengeance with a glance. and because these are not at first forthcoming.henceforth accepted as such. will seek to understand it in its lowest. who see little or nothing of it. or crossing a deep stream on a plank. And are not almost all publicly announced motives for our actions such imposed mothers? 597. be they poems. not to hold onto (for it would collapse with us at once). fear avoids. nothing that separates.— Love desires. in our human relationships. the free opinion finally begins to disturb and torment us in our attitude to life. For the man who respects another. aching wound. often ornamenting the whole region. which then jut out into their new thinking and acting like a bit of inexplicable antiquity and gray stonework. as happens so often. 604. all those who are always cold. There has never been a saint who reserves sins to himself and virtues to others: he is as rare as the man who. There must have been a kind of pleasure in having been beaten with her whip. are also those who have most often spoken ill of mankind in general. reliable people: they are being confused with those others who catch fire slowly and burn for a long time. Ruins as decoration. and are therefore by and large unreliable.— When. hides his goodness from people and lets them see of himself only what is bad. What is dangerous about free opinions . Prejudice in favor of cold people. he fears it: his condition is one of awe.— People who catch fire rapidly quickly become cold. But love acknowledges no power. one begins to rub the area. acknowledges his power. ranks higher or subordinates. the more moderate feelings appear flat. apparently we still prefer a more violent displeasure to a weak pleasure. passion leaves behind a dark longing for itself. to be loved and respected by the same person. Love and respect. 602. who judge themselves without mercy. Religiously strict people. too. 607. if one wishes to become a proficient hater: otherwise the germ for that. we are basically trying to cloud and delude our judgment. finally there is an open.— When it has gone. Desire for deep pain. Annoyance with others and the world. that is. and in disappearing throws us one last seductive glance. giving in to it.— The casual entertainment of free opinions is like an itch. . benefit from the prejudice that they are especially trustworthy. ambitious men secretly or openly balk against it. differentiates.— People who go through many spiritual changes retain some views and habits from earlier stages. that is. so we can lose sight of ourselves. at least in the same time span. In contrast. following Buddha's precept. 606. or act that way.must be learned and nurtured. 605. Because the state of being loved carries with it no respect. will gradually wither. That is why it is impossible. Therefore. 603. while we are actually feeling it about ourselves. we want to motivate our annoyance a posteriori by the oversights and inadequacies of others. we let our annoyance out on others. Cause and effect confused.— If we consider a series of pictures of ourselves from the time of childhood to that of manhood. look for a thought to fit their rhyme. Boredom and play. so people in the second half of their lives. as dancing does to walking.— Need forces us to do the work whose product will quiet the need. work that is designed to quiet no need other than that for working in general. having become more anxious.— Young people love what is interesting and odd. People as bad poets. and has no reason to work because of new needs. To escape boredom. Certainly. Age and truth. peaceful state of motion: it is the artist's and philosopher's vision of happiness. we are habituated to work by the ever-new awakening of needs. It seems that our thinking and judging are to be made the cause of our nature after the fact. finally. This perception agrees with the one that all those strong influences of our passions. attitudes. or else he invents play. even when it appears plain and simple. in the second half of a line. Instruction from pictures. Fully mature intellects. 612. so that in the end it looks as if the principles and dogmas had created our character. But then they no longer have any powerful thought to rule their life and determine it anew. man works either beyond what his usual needs require. additional need. 609. boredom overtakes us. that is. which now asserts itself as a new. in its stead. no matter how true or false it is. He who is tired of play.608. our teachers. the greater our habit of working. there has been a temporary alienation from our basic character. then. is sometimes overcome by the longing for a third state that relates to play as floating does to dancing. rather. while precisely the opposite has occurred. given it stability and certainty. which pull us about in our adolescence. for they have noticed that truth tends to reveal its highest wisdom in the guise of simplicity. and not least the vain desire to be considered consistent through and through.— Just as bad poets. And what decides us on this almost unconscious comedy? Laziness and convenience. comes the intention of finding a rhyme. 611. uniform both in character and thought: for this earns us respect. brings us trust and power. later seem to be reduced to a fixed measure. concentrated strength. a blissful. boring to the ordinary person. look for the actions. now overcome again by the man's collected. relationships that suit those of their earlier life. More mature minds love what is interesting and odd about truth. perhaps even the greater our suffering from our needs. so that everything will harmonize outwardly. 610. What is that? It is the habit of working as such. But in those intervals when our needs are quieted and seem to sleep. we are agreeably surprised to find that the man resembles the child more than the adolescent: probably corresponding to this occurrence. love truth. the need becomes the greater. but actually our nature causes us to think and judge one way or the other. they continue to live and .— Unconsciously we seek out the principles and dogmas that are in keeping with our temperament. or political events. but instead is full of modest skepticism—he is an anticipator who is reaching ahead towards a higher human culture. who enjoys other people's honors and successes. when they give voice to their feeling again. there arises. occasionally intrude into his personal relations and make his life difficult. who shares profusely in others' joy. Alienated from the present. in some cases it makes it sour. and is thus a relic. in short. the other lives on its highest floors. but like everything clearly articulated. who reacts with envy to his competitors' and neighbors' successes. Thus man's thinking and feeling appear again more in accord with that of his childhood years—and this inner fact is expressed in the external one mentioned above. but rather harmonizes and echoes what is thought. but no longer as regulators. that muffled. if that strength were less. you would have less to suffer. is showing that he belongs to an earlier stage of culture. sharply punctuated. The tone of the more mature years is rigorous.— There are great advantages in for once removing ourselves distinctly from our time and letting ourselves be driven from its shore back into the ocean of former world views. The unpleasant personality grows out of times when the unhewn foundation of human intercourse had still to be laid. Finally. 614. which gains resonance because of the emptiness. or invent displeases older people because it is too loud and yet at the same time muffled and unclear. 616. we survey for the first time . A second personality. For the way in which he interacts with people was proper and appropriate for the conditions of an age when rule by force prevailed: he is a backward person. these influences are used as sources of power. who flares up violently at divergent opinions. But because the feelings (of inclination and disinclination) reverberate in them much more strongly than the reasons for these feelings. but our basic feeling and basic thinking have the upper hand. Voice of the years.— The unpleasant personality who is full of mistrust. praise. who is touched by everything that grows and evolves. the mood of a bellum omnium contra omnes.— When a great thinker is temporarily subjected to hypochondriacal self-torments. he may say to comfort himself: "This parasite is feeding and growing from your great strength." The statesman may speak likewise when his jealousy and vengeful feelings. old age often brings a certain gentleness and indulgence to the sound and seems to sugar it: of course.act in us. or blamed around them. who wins friends everywhere. Comfort for hypochondriacs. and makes no claim to the privilege of alone knowing the truth. beneath the foundations of culture. Backward and anticipating people. praised. 613. like a tone in a vault. as happens in our twenties. For most of what adolescents think has not flowed out of the fullness of their own nature. spoken. too. Looking at the coast from that perspective.— The tone adolescents use to speak. moderately loud. 615. ringing tone that indicates the absence or paucity of reasons. for which he as a nation's representative must necessarily have a great gift. it carries very far. as far away as possible from the wild animal that rages and howls locked up in the cellars. blame. virtually yearn with a pounding heart for him to reach his goal. or a book) does well to take up this new thing with all possible love.— People like Rousseau know how to use their weaknesses. and poisons the arrows he shoots. But rather than making oneself uniform. . whose bitterness makes his general condemnation so sharp. each brings its own views with it. we give the author of a book the greatest possible head start. 621. an event. to avert his eye quickly from. By doing this. we penetrate into the heart of the new thing. 620. and when we near it again. So.— Whoever wants really to get to know something new (be it a person. and. one viewpoint for all life situations and events: we usually call that being of a philosophical frame of mind. for example. 622. as if at a race. we may find greater value for the enrichment of knowledge by listening to the soft voice of different life situations. too.— It is a new step towards independence. He is relieving himself first as an individual. deficiencies. that occasional unhinging of the critical pendulum. or false. that overestimation. then even his friends and acquaintances begin to grow anxious. even to forget. 618. benefit him too. a great sacrifice will be preferred to a small one. this is based on his personal experience. In the fire of contempt. and thinks that he is seeking a cure that will directly benefit society. 617. invariable. Sowing and reaping on personal inadequacies.its entire shape. once a man dares to express opinions that bring disgrace on him if he entertains them. because we compensate ourselves for a great sacrifice with self-admiration. Once we have got that far. 619. was just a device to entice the soul of a matter out into the open. Love as a device. afterwards he is much more his own person. everything about it that he finds inimical. A philosophical frame of mind. and this is not possible with a small one. single individuals. Sacrifice. The man of talent must pass through this fire. When Rousseau laments the depravity and degeneration of society as the unpleasant consequence of culture. Thus we acknowledge and share the life and nature of many by not treating ourselves like rigid. and by means of society.— If there is a choice. reason then sets its limits. or vices as if they were the fertilizer of their talent. we have the advantage of understanding it better on the whole than do those who have never left it.— Generally we strive to acquire one emotional stance. but that will also indirectly. into its motive center: and this is what it means to get to know it. objectionable. And even from this learned opinion they will always want to detract or reduce something. their boat at once gains a new equilibrium on the sea of harmonic euphony. while actually everything else is a gift of the gods (of chance): this. to the extent that they later keep imitating what they were in those moments. Incidentally.— Whether we think too well or too ill of things. it speaks demandingly. and make them almost incapable of maintaining presence of mind when their wait is over. it leads to a pleasant disappointment: what was pleasurable in those things in and of themselves is increased through the pleasure of our surprise. even laughing. 625. is the man himself. We should. 626. 623. But people themselves deal very differently with this. 624. however. when he finds his higher self. fair opinion of themselves. anticipated things or people excite such natures most. and not be silly enough. with no evidence of even the beginning of a structured. and often act out the role of their own self. for that reason it is often called a gift of the gods. it has a ghostly freedom of coming or staying away as it wishes. But if they are made to compare themselves with others. but spin forth their monologue of a life in a calm. for example. and not in his workdays of bondage and servitude. . At any movement from the outside.— Everyone has his good day. as often happens. Thus one must grant certain men their solitude. If a preconceived opinion is overly negative. holding good conversations with themselves. Without melody. when it speaks. only later does it become profound. and true humanity demands that we judge someone only when he is in this condition. Traffic with one's higher self. a morose temperament will experience the opposite in both cases. we will always gain the advantage of reaping a greater pleasure: if our preconceived opinion is too good we are generally investing things (experiences) with more sweetness than they actually possess. moving melody. In addition.— Those people whose strength lies in the profundity of their impressions (they are generally called "profound people") are relatively controlled and decisive when anything sudden happens: for in the first moment the impression was still shallow.— There are people for whom a constant inner repose and a harmonious ordering of all their capabilities is so characteristic that any goal-directed activity goes against their grain.— Some people are so used to solitude with themselves that they never compare themselves to others.To think too well or too ill of the world. But long-foreseen. their higher self. They are like a piece of music consisting entirely of sustained harmonious chords. to pity them for it. joyous mood. Profound people. Some regard their ideal with shy humility and would like to deny it: they fear their higher self because. assess and honor a painter according to the highest vision he was able to see and portray. Solitary people. they tend to a brooding underestimation of their selves: so that they have to be forced to learn again from others to have a good. of the most varied currents of their time or nation.— If one notices how some individuals know how to treat their experiences (their insignificant everyday experiences) so that these become a plot of ground that bears fruit three times a year. and have always done so. Because we have vowed to be faithful. indeed. to be sure. while others (and how many of them!) are driven through the waves of the most exciting turns of fate. under the assumption (unstated. they also glorify the frightful satisfactions of passion." 627. in the state of blind madness that enveloped us in rapture and let those beings appear worthy of every honor. I heard from a tower a long chiming of bells: it kept on and on. nevertheless — — [Republic. and the resignation of the broken heart. their presence evokes that rare question: why have melody at all? Why are we not satisfied when life mirrors itself peacefully in a deep lake? The Middle Ages was richer in such natures than we are. what a man promises or decides in passion: this demand is among the heaviest burdens oppressing mankind. a woman. or a thinker. like cork: then one is finally tempted to divide mankind into a minority (minimality) of those people who know how to make much out of little and a majority of those who know how to make a little out of much. Then I thought of Plato's words and felt them suddenly in my heart: all in all.— To carry out later. mutilation. saying to himself like Goethe: "The best is the deep quiet in which I live and grow against the world. of raging vengeance. every sacrifice: are we then inextricably bound? Were we not deceiving ourselves then? Was it not a conditional promise. in coolness and sobriety. On convictions and justice. the outbursts of revenge that have death. In any event. 628. or voluntary banishment as a consequence. perhaps. and harvest what they cannot take from me by fire or sword. it is as if they wished to say: without passions you have experienced nothing at all. a priestly order. and especially by artists. however. an artist. In certain moods. of enthusiastic devotion—this can incite a bitterness against these feelings all the greater because everywhere. in which one indulges. Seriousness in play.Modern people are usually extremely impatient on meeting such natures. and over the noise of the backstreets. to be sure) that those beings to whom we dedicated ourselves really are the beings . X 604c] 629. it rang out into the evening sky and the sea air. create nothing out of the world. a party. To have to acknowledge for all duration the consequences of anger. precisely these feelings are the object of idol worship. Artists cultivate the esteem for the passions. Life and experience. they keep alive curiosity about the passions. for instance. so terrible and so childish at the same time. even. because we have given our heart to a prince. a God.— At sunset in Genoa. as if insatiable for itself. nothing human is worth taking very seriously. one meets those perverse wizards who. instead of creating the world out of nothing. How seldom do we now meet a person who can keep living so peacefully and cheerfully with himself even amidst the turmoil. so melancholy. and yet always stay lightly on the surface. who do not become anything though it may not be said that they are not anything. to a purely imaginary being. the dogmatic expression of his belief will have been unscientific or half-scientific. All of them were wrong: probably no man has ever sacrificed himself for truth. The countless people who sacrificed themselves for their convictions thought they were doing it for absolute truth. If only all those people who thought so highly of their conviction. then. the struggle of convictions. With a matter of this extreme importance. people have lived in such childlike assumptions. 630. But throughout thousands of years. who sacrificed all sorts of things to it and spared neither their honor. and got beyond the arrogant idea that they were defending the absolute truth. and second. and without suffering from them in turn." ["I believe it because it is absurd. because the inquisitors would above all have inquired within themselves. likewise. Should we have to guard ourselves against the upsurging of our feeling in order to avoid these pains? Would not the world then become too bleak. body nor life in its service. Let us test how convictions come into being and observe whether they are not vastly overrated: in that way it will be revealed that the change of convictions too is in any case measured by false standards and that until now we have tended to suffer too much from such changes. a child. the "will" was all too audibly the intellect's prompter. that absolute truths exist. and from out of them mankind's mightiest sources of power have flowed. how they had arrived at it. however grownup he might be otherwise. or at least as long as they do him no harm. To let his belief be torn from him meant perhaps to put his eternal happiness in question. we believe fundamentally that no one changes his opinions as long as they are advantageous to him. forsake our ideals again and again. had devoted only half of their strength to investigating by what right they clung to this or that conviction. then how peaceable the history of mankind would appear! How much more would be known! All the cruel scenes during the persecution of every kind of heretic would have been spared us for two reasons: first. finally."] It is not the struggle of opinions that has made history so violent. That is. We do not pass from one period of life to another without causing these pains of betrayal. even if we perceive that by this faithfulness we do damage to our higher self? No—there is no law. but rather the struggle of belief in opinions. But if that is the case. . that every man who has convictions makes use of these perfect methods. it bears bad testimony to the intellectual meaning of all convictions. act unfaithfully. because the heretics themselves would not have granted such poorly established tenets as those of all the sectarians and "orthodox" any further attention. But actually one wanted to be right because one thought one had to be right. Conviction is the belief that in some point of knowledge one possesses absolute truth. that is. he could still always malign reason in general and perhaps even raise as a banner of extreme fanaticism the " credo quia absurdum est. or whether they do not depend on an erroneous opinion and estimation. once they had investigated them. Why do we admire the man who remains faithful to his conviction and despise the one who changes it? I fear the answer must be that everyone assumes such a change is caused only by motives of baser advantage or personal fear. that the perfect methods for arriving at them have been found. we must become traitors. Such a belief presumes. at least. no obligation of that kind. he stands before us still in the age of theoretical innocence. Every believer of every persuasion assumed he could not be refuted.they appeared to be in our imaginations? Are we obliged to be faithful to our errors. if the counterarguments proved very strong. All three assertions prove at once that the man of convictions is not the man of scientific thinking. too ghostly for us? We want rather to ask ourselves whether these pains at a change of conviction are necessary. we are still the same people as those in the period of the Reformation—and how should it be otherwise? But we no longer allow ourselves certain means to gain victory for our opinion: this distinguishes us from that age and proves that we belong to a higher culture. a search that does not tire of learning afresh and testing anew. In this regard. to be sure. But eventually the scientific spirit in man must bring forth that virtue of cautious restraint. teachers. and which. unteachable. but only because he powerfully incites opposition: for in that way the new culture's more delicate structure. This inclination is understandable and its consequences do not entitle us to violent reproaches against the development of human reason. a representative of backward cultures. Stemming from the time when people were accustomed to believe that they possessed absolute truth is a deep discomfort with all skeptical and relativistic positions on any questions of knowledge. 632. usually we prefer to surrender unconditionally to a conviction held by people of authority (fathers. had he lived in other times. he makes allowances for him and knows besides that. he clearly betrays that he would have burnt his opponents. without gentleness. but remains caught in the net of his first belief. in the manner of men during the Reformation. In its time. and even salutary in cultures grown too free and lax. more gentle and silent. and that he would have taken recourse to all the means of the Inquisition. eternally suspect. portrayed in his Antonio. . has no right to scold him for this. or at least as a backward person. the scientific man. that wise moderation that is better known in the realm of practical life than in the realm of theoretical life. like every state of martial law. princes). And in fact. The man of conviction has in himself a right not to understand the man of cautious thinking. in accordance with this lack of education (which always presupposes educability). for it meant nothing other than the general martial law which had to be proclaimed over the whole domain of the church. he is in all events. because of just this unchangeability. for seeking the truth. he is harsh. becomes strong itself. These days. the Inquisition was reasonable. he is perhaps a source of power. If one has not passed through various convictions. injudicious. for example [in Torquato Tasso]. in certain cases. had he lived as an opponent of the Reformation. for the salvation of mankind. the man will cling to him as Tasso finally does to Antonio. which is forced to struggle with him. with any sacrifice. and we have a kind of troubled conscience if we do not do so. if a man still attacks and crushes opinions with suspicions and outbursts of rage. But now we will no longer concede so easily that anyone has the truth. who reaches for any means to enforce his opinion because he simply cannot understand that there have to be other opinions. so that we experience every man who represents opinions violently in word and deed as any enemy of our present culture. the rigorous methods of inquiry have spread sufficient distrust and caution. justified the use of the extremest means. namely under the assumption (which we no longer share with those people) that one possessed truth in the church and had to preserve it at any cost.631. the pathos of possessing truth counts very little today in relation to that other pathos. friends. as an object of animosity for all Tassos. and that Goethe. Essentially. 633. on the other hand. the theoretical Antonio. that is. for those unscientific and also passive natures. a person lacking scruples. If the individual had not cared about his "truth. scientific methods are at least as important as any other result of inquiry. invigorating. The former. Clever people may learn the results of science as much as they like. in between. there was a period when the consequences of the opposing tenet were drawn and perhaps experienced as harmful and saddening. this always has the worst consequences. one still sees from their conversation. political. for the scientific spirit is based on the insight into methods. as a consequence of long practice. 636. and I can in no way see fit to esteem that kind lower than any philosophical. in order to thus increase their own strength. For them. and how necessary is the most extreme circumspection. about his being right in the end. for it wants to give each thing its due. especially from their hypotheses in conversation. however much he may believe he is its suitor. Finally. the thinkers' personal struggle sharpened their methods so much that truths could really be discovered. and were those methods to be lost. especially those which give the impression of being witty. man proceeded step by step. 635. the methodical search for truth itself results from those times when convictions were feuding among themselves." that is. thrilling. later the ways and means with which the ostensible truth had been found were mutually criticized. even the above-mentioned increase of strength. and that only a slight minority want certainty. vastly preponderant class is what the thinker has in view when he takes himself for a genius. thus it is an enemy of convictions. All in all. given the eternal struggle of various individuals' claims to absolute truth. a mistrust which. To the extent that that kind of genius keeps up the heat of convictions and awakens distrust of the cautious and modest spirit of science. to have an opinion means to get fanatical about it and cherish it in their hearts henceforth as a conviction. At first decisions were made according to authorities. To be sure. Incidentally. all the results of science could not prevent a renewed triumph of superstition and nonsense. especially in the realm of politics. but.634. This advice should be given to women particularly. They do not have that instinctive mistrust of the wrong ways of thinking. or energizing. and the aberrations of earlier methods were exposed to everyone's eye. then he knows what method is. If a matter is unexplained. there is also quite another category of genius. no method of inquiry would exist at all. one notices that the majority of all educated people still desire convictions and nothing but convictions from a thinker. The former want to be forcibly carried away. For them it is enough to find any one hypothesis about a matter. then they get fired up about it and think that puts an end to it. the latter few have that matter-of-fact interest that ignores personal advantage. that they lack the scientific spirit. they become excited at the first notion resembling an explanation that enters their brain. Therefore everyone should have come to know at least one science in its essentials. In fact. this was to result in everyone's judging that the opponent's conviction contained an error. and presents himself as a higher being possessing authority. who are now the hopeless victims of all hypotheses. in order to find irrefutable principles by which the justice of the claims could be tested and the argument settled. that of justice. he is an enemy of truth. or artistic genius. has put its roots deep into the soul of every scientific man. It is its way to avoid with hearty indignation everything which blinds and confuses our judgment about things. be it . if one looks closer. and who are. through the change of sides. we want to kneel down before justice. and keep his eyes open for everything that actually occurs in the world. women call it "faith")—for the sake of truth. never may we touch her hand in this condition. we offer her our pain as a penance and a sacrifice. and the city opens up. Afterwards. Therefore it places each thing in the best light and walks all around it with an attentive eye. dirt. a strong wind stirs. wood. here and there it pulls us away from justice's sacrificial altar. come the ecstatic mornings of other regions and days. from opinion to opinion. he sees in the faces of its inhabitants perhaps more of desert. If the morning sun then rises. as noble traitors to all things that can ever be betrayed—and yet with no feeling of guilt. in their sometimes merry. It is the spirit that saves us from turning utterly to burnt-out coals. there must be something wandering within him. if one feels he is of a free. uncertainty. when the fire burns us and tries to consume us. X. Then nearby in the dawning light he already sees the bands of muses dancing past him in the mist of the mountains. Finally it will even give its due to its opponent. Then for him the frightful night sinks over the desert like a second desert. deception. as the only goddess whom we recognize above us. such a man will have bad nights. driven by the spirit. ashamed. but rather only certainties and precisely measured probabilities. sometimes contemplative way. transparent. Among Friends: An Epilogue Translation: gersimon © 2001 . Redeemed from the fire. and in the sense of that goddess. therefore he must not attach his heart too firmly to any individual thing. restlessly lively spirit. and his heart becomes tired of wandering. Usually the fire in us makes us unjust. We honor her as our life's veiled Isis. real or fictive—and to do so it must apprehend it clearly. To be sure. then he will have no opinions at all in his head. for this does not exist. So it may happen sometimes to the wanderer. But he does want to observe. the gifts of all those free spirits who are at home in mountain. The Wanderer. mental sloth lets these rigidify into convictions. he can prevent this rigidity through constant change. when he is tired and finds closed the gates to the city that should offer him rest. or wraps us in an asbestos cocoon. perhaps in addition.— He who has come only in part to a freedom of reason cannot feel on earth otherwise than as a wanderer—though not as a traveler towards a final goal. but then. robbers lead off his pack-animals. and solitude. glowing like a divinity of wrath. as recompense. they ponder how the day can have such a pure. predatory animals howl now near. the desert reaches up to the gate. we then stride on. 637. Born out of the mysteries of the dawn.living or dead. to blind or shortsighted "conviction" (as men call it. than outside the gates—and the day is almost worse than the night. impure. now far. Out of passions grow opinions. and if he is on the whole a veritable thinking snowball. never will the grave smile of her pleasure lie upon us. like him. — But we who are of a mixed nature. — However. sometimes aglow with fire and sometimes chilled by the spirit. which takes its joy in change and transitoriness. transfigured and cheerful face between the hours of ten and twelve—they seek the philosophy of the morning. under trees from whose tops and leafy corners only good and bright things are thrown down to him. as in the Orient. wanderers and philosophers. 638. he strolls quietly in the equilibrium of his forenoon soul. 1. again?— . My writings speak only of my overcomings: "I" am in them. "ego ipsissimum": my innermost self]. distance. It's nice. friends. expose. what I Has a book contained it Honor in me the guild of From this fools-book How reason to its senses Yes. friends. are to be back-dated—they always speak of something "behind me"—some. the content of the first forgiving! living your shelter! strain vain! discover— ever? fools! learn turned! again?— together. even back before the emergence and experience of the time of a previously published book (The Birth of Tragedy in the given case: as a subtler observer and comparer may uncover). refrain— wave. One should speak only when one may not remain silent. together— skies lie growing showing. a louder Until together we reach the Yes. reveal. until the desire stirred within me to exploit. 1886 1. "literature. "exhibit" (or whatever one wants to call it) for the sake of knowledge something experienced and survived.. remain. But still it always required time. recovery. my foolish Has never been in What I seek. our joyous laughter With our white teeth Am I right? silent let us Am I wrong? laughter be our Make it worse and worse. though substantial exception. and then speak only of that which one has overcome—everything else is chatter.. No excuses! No Openhearted and cheerful Grant this foolish book Ear and heart and Believe me. possibly some fact or fatum of my life. here Friends. ego ipsissimus. detachment. To that extent all my writings. ego ipsissimum ["ego ipsissimus": my very own self. friends." lack of breeding. even if a yet prouder expression be permitted. in silence Even nicer. complacency and beggarly speech found in the old David Strauss. grave. indeed. shall we do it Amen! and auf Wiedersehn! 2. That sudden outburst against Germanomania. One will surmise: I already have much—beneath me . laughing Underneath the silken Amidst moss and books. shall we do it Amen! and auf Wiedersehn! Preface To the Second Edition. like the first three Untimely Meditations. together with everything that was hostile to me. with a single. after six years of convalescence. hence a pessimist with goodwill toward pessimism—thus in any case no longer a romantic: what? should a spirit. as the second volume of Human. namely of the anti-romantic self-treatment. gave vent to feelings from a long time ago when I. as the contemplator must do. one does not yet "contemplate. All Too Human. that is to say just as much in the critique as in the depths of all pessimism hitherto —and already believed "in nothing any more. and what I said against the "historical disease..und Vorwort"] is to be dedicated.." because he had once suffered from it. as a student. behind him. and actually a liberation. expressed my reverence for my first and only educator. not even in Schopenhauer: just at that time I produced the unpublished essay "On Truth and Lie in an Extra-Moral Sense.. which may be recommended to the more spiritual natures of the yet upcoming generation as disciplina voluntatis. All Too Human: perhaps they. will teach their precepts more strongly and more clearly—precepts of health. in the third Untimely Meditation. for the great Arthur Schopenhauer—even now I would express it much more strongly." one does not place oneself at a distance." I said as one who had slowly. just like The Wanderer and His Shadow. At this point. if during this the psychologist has blood on his fingers and not always only—on his fingers? . . which was perhaps intended but for few ears. to which this second foreword and forward [" Für. As a book "for free spirits. laboriously learned to recover from it and who was not at all willing to renounce "history. who understands the serpent's cleverness in changing his skin. too. with a telltale and melancholy idiom. A pessimist speaks out of them. one certainly does not paint such pictures. first came to me with the book Human." something lies upon it from the almost cheerful and inquisitive coldness of the psychologist. When I then. also more personally—I was myself already in the midst of moral skepticism and dissolution. who often enough jumped out of his skin but always knew how to jump back in again. on page 342 of the work itself ["Richard Wagner in Bayreuth"]. (Perhaps Richard Wagner was deceived about it? I do not think so. 2. that of the contrary view"—it is stated in Chapter 7." was in its background an homage and a gratitude set against a piece of my past.) The composure needed to be able to speak about the innermost solitude and self-restraint over long intervening years. who has a lot of painful things beneath him. a little blood occasionally flows as well." as people say. taken together. had sat in the midst of German culture and cultural philistinism (I make claim on the paternity of the now much used and abused expression "cultural philistine"). may these same writings stand united. The Mixed Opinions and Maxims were published individually.." Even my commemorative victory speech in honor of Richard Wagner... with such pointed and ticklish work. who are one and all still in danger of romanticism? And at least show them how it is—done? . as my healthy instinct had itself discovered and prescribed for me against a temporary illness of the most dangerous form of romanticism.Meditation. not be allowed to give the pessimists of today a lesson. first as continuations and appendices of that human-all-too-human "book for free spirits": at the same time as a continuation and duplication of a spiritual cure. against the fairest but also most dangerously calm seas of my voyage . "Even contemplation involves a secret antagonism. 3. yet subsequently identifies and as it were jabs firmly at them with the point of a needle: is it any wonder if. on the occasion of his victory celebration at Bayreuth in 1876—Bayreuth signifies the greatest victory which an artist has ever achieved—a work which itself bears the strongest appearance of being "up-to-date. As long as one still loves. a farewell. and also. at the whole idealistic deception and pampering of the conscience that had here triumphed once again over one of the bravest. to despise more profoundly. — It was only then that I learned the hermitical habit of speech understood by only the most silent and suffering. its "eternal womanly" draws us—downwards! . My task—where was it? What? did it not seem as if my task had now withdrawn itself from me—as if now. and not without a sullen wrathfulness. did no German have eyes in his head. The hidden imperious something. youth. I spoke of various things that did not concern me in a style that gave the impression that they did. How strange and how terrible! It is our alleviations for which we have to make the severest atonement! And if we afterwards want to return to health. At the time.At the time it was indeed high time to say farewell: soon after. work. to be more profoundly alone than ever before. about the universally wasted energy. namely weary from the inevitable disappointment about everything that remained to inspire us modern men. I was condemned to mistrust more profoundly. for every activity." to my task. 5. I spoke without witnesses. most triumphant. however respectable. stifling art that deprives the spirit of its severity and cheerfulness and fosters every kind of vague longing and spongy. I thus. as it seems to me today. I trembled. so as not to suffer from silence.. soon after I was sick. weary. superhealthy enough to confront that music and in an immortal fashion take revenge on it. malicious. weary with disgust at the femininity and ill-bred rapturousness of this romanticism. which turns us aside from our main purpose. southerly. from the grief aroused by an inexorable suspicion—that. As I proceeded alone. even indeed for every virtue that would like to protect us from the severity of our most personal responsibility. Henceforth alone and sorely mistrustful of myself. this ambiguous. but in truth a decaying and despairing romantic. "Illness" is always the answer when we begin to doubt our right to our task—every time we begin to make things easier for ourselves. for every premature act of self-constraint. for this dreadful spectacle? Was I the only one whom—it pained? Enough.. after this disappointment. thoroughly and in principle. or rather indifferent to the presence of witnesses. At that time I was first and foremost suspicious and circumspect towards romantic music. Even today "cave musicam" ["beware music"] is still my advice to all who are man enough to insist on cleanliness in things of the spirit. hope. inflated. — 4. we have no choice—we must burden ourselves more heavily than we have ever been burdened before . Richard Wagner. it was the prospect that a musician might come—bold. I would have no more right to it? What could I do in order to endure this greatest deprivation? — I began by forbidding myself. before the Christian cross . for which we for long have no name until at last it proves itself to be our task—this tyrant in us exacts a terrible price for every attempt that we make to escape it or give it the slip. It was then that I learned the art of appearing . such music unnerves. softens. took sides against myself and for everything painful and difficult precisely for me:—thus I again found my way to that courageous pessimism that is the antithesis of all romantic mendacity. and if I hoped for something at all from music anymore. helpless and broken. empathy in his conscience. for every reconciliation with those to whom we do not belong. all romantic music. finally and not least of all. this unexpected event struck me like lightning and gave me clarity about the place I had left—and also that horror which everybody feels after he has unconsciously passed through a tremendous danger. love. the way to "myself. suddenly sank down. for a long time. exploitative desire. feminizes... more than sick. subtle.. I received the proof.. most imperiled. much calm. and sensitive will. solitude and other morasses. compelled myself to an utterly different and unexplored clime of the soul. disappointment. inquisitive. and teaches him to stretch out hands and senses to new nourishment. A long process of roaming. duties. patient campaign against the unscientific basic tendency of all romantic pessimism.. a little of the "barrel" [Diogenes the Cynic (400-325 BC). stupidities and painful memories. in order to displace him from his entire "hitherto. so I. which seeks to magnify and interpret individual. an unfettering from all coarser desires. friends.. together with the pride in being able to live surrounded by these unfavorable circumstances: a little cynicism perhaps. Here there is a determination to preserve an equilibrium and composure in the face of life and even a sense of gratitude towards it. send them once more on a journey for an experiment? May I commend them particularly to the ears and hearts of those who are burdened with some sort of "past. above all again and again to fly away. seeking. like poisonous fungi. it was then that I turned my perspective around. proud. as physician and patient in one. but just as surely a great deal of capricious happiness.. his "good taste"? Nevertheless. Shall my experience—the history of an illness and a convalescence. changing followed from this.— — 6. to fly to great heights. whose comfort it is to know . ever vigilant. most courageous ones who must be the conscience of the modern soul and as such must possess its knowledge. — May I now. and especially to a curative journey into strange parts.cheerful. flourish by virtue of pain. a new sun. light. to an inquisitiveness for every kind of strange thing . hidden enthusiasm—all this produced in the end a great spiritual strengthening. indeed into condemnations of the world . In fact a minimum of life. Optimism for the sake of restoration. personal experiences into universal judgments. most spiritual. in whom is concentrated all that exists today of sickness. towards every blunt affirmation and denial. Perhaps this gives our pessimists a signpost to their own self-examination?— for it was then that I hit upon the proposition: "a sufferer has no right to pessimism because he suffers!". an increasing joy and abundance of health.. into strangeness itself. which has undertaken the task of defending life against pain and striking down all those inferences that. Life itself rewards us for our tenacious will to life. objective. most fleeting gift that life gives us. Finally our reward is the greatest of life's gifts. letters. in short. for it resulted in a convalescence—have been my personal experience alone? And only my human. most delicate. for such a long war as I waged against the pessimistic weariness of life.. above all that is healthy and malicious—is this. poison and danger—whose lot it is that you must be sicker than any other kind of individual because you are not " only individuals" . a repugnance towards all staying still. ill-humor. as sometimes seems to be the case." from his cares. for I am becoming more and more confident that my travel books were not penned solely for myself. capricious cheerfulness. as it seems to me." and have enough spirit left still to suffer from the spirit of their past too? But above all would I commend them to you whose burden is heaviest.. in an invalid. and that I engaged in a tedious. a subtler eye and empathy will not miss what perhaps constitutes the charm of this writing—the fact that here one who has suffered and abstained speaks in such a way as if he had never suffered or abstained. likewise a dietetic and discipline designed to make it as easy as possible for the spirit to run long distances. you rare. after six years of growing confidence. an independence in the midst of all kinds of unfavorable outward circumstances. all-toohuman? Today I would like to believe the reverse. in order at some future time to have the right to be a pessimist—do you understand that? Just as a physician transfers his patient to totally strange surroundings. perhaps the greatest thing it is able to give of any kind—we are given our task back. here rules a vigorous. reputed to have lived in a barrel. even for every attentive glance our gratitude accords to even the smallest. a new future.]. subtler folly. if you will believe me. a health of tomorrow and the day after. Knapsack of the metaphysicians. one even seeks it out. Upper September 1886 1. — Finally to reduce my opposition to romantic pessimism. you healthiest ones. Engadine. — This has been my pessimistic perspective from the beginning—a novel perspective. a nice little immortality. to a formula: there is a will to the tragic and to pessimism that is as much a sign of severity and of strength of intellect (taste. To the disappointed of philosophy. you strongest ones. ineluctable. feeling. . just as much for myself as. attended by their blushes: a dear little Lord God. it is enough to pluck at the bundle which. the longing for a great enemy. Let him be disillusioned and behold!—he will embrace this disillusionment just as fervently as a little while before he embraced his hopes.— An idealist is incorrigible: if he is thrown out of his heaven he makes an ideal of his hell. the products of that scientificality come to light.— Those who boast so mightily of the scientificality of their metaphysics should receive no answer.— If you have hitherto believed that life was one of the highest value and now see yourselves disappointed.. they keep concealed behind their back. Do you want me to prove this to you? But what else does this long preface—prove? Sils-Maria. with a certain degree of embarrassment. Behind such a will there stands courage. pride. inescapable in the fate and character of man.— The fantasist denies reality to himself. you good Europeans! — — 7. the failed and defeated. do you at once have to reduce it to the lowest possible price? 6.. you victorious ones. conscience). that is to say the pessimism of the renunciators. With this will in one's heart one has no fear of the fearful and questionable that characterizes all existence. if one succeeds in opening it. the liar does so only to others. and alas! to go along it. and in any event a whole tangled heap of "wretched poor sinner" and Pharisee arrogance. Against fantasists. 23. 12. is it not? a perspective that even today is novel and strange? To this moment I continue to adhere to it and.the way to a new health. occasionally at least. you predestined ones. overcomers of your age. against myself . Incurable. Insofar as his tendency is among the great incurable tendencies of human nature he is able to give rise to tragic destinies and afterwards become the subject of tragedies: for tragedies have to do with precisely what is incurable. perhaps a certain quantity of spiritualism. one can get hold of that idea neither by means of defiance and ill-will nor by means of good-will (if one holds it for true—)." a "sometimes". making no impression one upon the other: and we are tickled by the thought of whether here a marriage might not be arranged.26. From the thinker's innermost experience . give it strength and fullness. if a consequence should proceed from this conclusion. Let one ponder this and then think on a little further: certainly no one will then speak of a "drive to knowledge in and for itself"!— Why then does man prefer the true to the untrue in this secret struggle with ideapersons. that we thus traffic with them as with free intelligent persons. That we are afraid of our own ideas. the all-defiant. we unconsciously ask ourselves whether we shall not set a counter-proposition as an enemy beside it. not regarding one another. Perhaps it displeases us because of its defiant and autocratic bearing. heredity and training. a conclusion drawn. and sinking as it were into the arms of contradiction. person-inventing drive even for a moment. It is his immeasurable pride which wants to employ only the finest. stroke and feed it. We have only to spy on ourselves at that moment when we hear or discover a proposition new to us. because it breaks the personally burdensome tyranny of the unconditional. concepts. If."] His work has become for him his ego. not as a person: one might question. however. separated from one another. unwearying king-makers in the history of the spirit that we are. words. ideatending of the sic and poor? For the same reason as he practices justice in traffic with real persons: now out of habit. that is to say truths or what it takes for truths. but also honor ourselves in them and involuntarily ascribe to them the capacity to instruct. idea pedagogy. on the other hand. humble. in this usually hidden idea-meaning. as if they were individuals with whom one has to struggle. then one yields and pays it homage as a prince and leader. whether we can append to it a "perhaps. power and fame are hard to maintain if erected on the basis of errors or lies: the feeling that such a building could at some time or other fall down is humiliating to the selfconceit of its architect. whether it is at all possible for him to suspend the clockwork of this personconstructing. even the little word "probably" does us good. Woe to him who seeks to darken it. hardest stones for its work. can we not come to the assistance of this weak creature. indeed. to whom one has to ally oneself. protect and nourish. we behold a judgment there. If.— Nothing is more difficult for man than to apprehend a thing impersonally: I mean to see it as a thing. united as it is with the hidden thought " pereat mundus. indeed truth and even unconditionality? Can we possibly be parental or knightly or pitying towards it?— Then again. he is ashamed of the fragility of his material and. that is to say the most arrogant and defiant idea that exists. nice and tolerant. wants to do nothing that is not more enduring than the rest of the world. dum ego salvus sim !" ["Let the world perish so long as I am safe. At all times arrogance has rightly been designated the "vice of the intellectual"—yet without the motive power of this vice truth and the respect accorded it would be miserably accommodated on this earth. For in the realm of thought. praise and censure us. he transforms himself into the intransitory. as equals with equals —it is in this that the strange phenomenon I have . we try another way of testing our autocracy: what. It is as a consequence of his demand for truth that he embraces belief in personal immortality. originally because the true—as also the fair and just—is more useful and more productive of honor than the untrue. unless it itself should one day become suspicious to us:—then. in the presentiment that. the honor of it will fall not only to the two married judgments but also to those who arranged the marriage. because he takes himself more seriously than he does the rest of the world. idea-state founding. He traffics even with ideas. we hurl it from the throne and immediately raise its opponent in its place. this new proposition approaches in a milder shape. despise. with independent powers. whom one has to tend. though they be the most abstract. accords it a seat of honor and speaks of it with pomp and pride: for in its glitter one glitters too. left open must be recognized as useless: none leads outside. to be sure. — Thus here too something moral of the highest sort has blossomed out of a black root. whose native sense of reality was not a little dimmed by the motley leopard-skin of his metaphysics (which one must first remove from him if one is to discover the real moralist genius beneath it)—Schopenhauer makes that striking distinction which is very much more justified than he really dared to admit to himself: "the insight into the strict necessity of human actions is the boundary line which divides philosophical heads from the others.— Schopenhauer. he expressed as: "the ultimate and true elucidation of the inner nature of the whole of things must necessarily hang closely together with that of the ethical significance of human behavior"—which is absolutely not "necessary" but. as if bewildered by the fair illusion: the desert swallows them up and they are dead to science. there appear those glittering mirages called "philosophical systems": with bewitching. his heart rejoices. may well grow exceedingly ill-humored and curse the salty taste which these apparitions leave behind in the mouth and from which arises a raging thirst —without one's having been brought so much as a single step nearer to any kind of spring. who still continue to wrestle with it. That this knowledge cannot for very much longer be resisted is indicated by the despairing and incredible postures and contortions of those who assail it. not make ourselves free. In the desert of science. which stand still. the poor ." This mighty insight. Many more backdoors. could ye not watch with me one hour?" 31. and it seems to the weary traveler that his lips already touch the goal of all the perseverance and sorrows of the scientific life. is how they go on: "What. There are other natures. deceptive power they show the solution of all enigmas and the freshest draught of the true water of life to be near at hand.— To the man of science on his unassuming and laborious travels. which "philosophical heads" have. we can only dream ourselves free." as it now exists. which must often enough be journeys through the desert. which have often before experienced this subjective solace. on the contrary. 33. the unconditonal unfreedom and unaccountability of the will. has been rejected by precisely that proposition of the strict necessity of human actions. Other natures again.called "intellectual conscience" has its roots. In Gethsemane. he nonetheless counteracted in his own mind with that prejudice which he still had in common with moral men ( not with the moralists) and which. Philosophical heads will thus distinguish themselves from the others through their unbelief in the metaphysical significance of morality: and that may establish a gulf between them of whose depth and unbridgeability the so much lamented gulf between the "cultured" and the "uncultured. if it is impossible and no longer permissible to accuse and to judge the individual. — This. whose great knowledgeability about the human and all-too-human. that is to say. The desire to be just and the desire to be a judge . approximately. is no man accountable? And is everything full of guilt and feeling of guilt? But someone or other has to be the sinner. into the air of free will: every one which has hitherto been slipped through reveals behind it every time a brazen wall of fate: we are in prison. to be sure. 29. so that he involuntarily presses forward. quite innocuously and credulously. which from time to time he publicly avowed. gives hardly any idea.— The most grievous thing the thinker can say to the artists is: "What. like Schopenhauer himself. 88. here there can be accusing. The exhaustion of expiring existence. the new and untried nature of the whole condition and all too often the . "judge not!" and the ultimate distinction between philosophical heads and the others would be that the former desire to be just.— Somebody remarked: "I can tell by my own reaction to it that this book is harmful." But let him only wait and perhaps one day he will admit to himself that this same book has done him a great service by bringing out the hidden sickness of his heart and making it visible. thus will the offender become his own judge. the judge his own executioner." — The error lies not only in the feeling "I am accountable. in fact. 85.— The whole way in which a person thinks of death during the high tide of his life and strength bears.— That which we sometimes do not know or feel precisely while awake—whether we have a good or a bad conscience towards a particular person—the dream informs us of without any ambiguity. more than an ugly gesture on the part of the defeated idea—perhaps the death-throes of the despairing and salvation-thirsty heart to which madness whispers: "Behold. Dangerous books. thou art the lamb that beareth the sins of God. his bearing on his deathbed.— To make plans and project designs brings with it many good sensations.wave in the necessary wave-play of becoming—very well: then let the wave-play itself. to be sure.— Altered opinions do not alter a man's character (or do so very little). as Christ did.— The strongest knowledge (that of the total unfreedom of the human will) is nonetheless the poorest in successes: for it always has the strongest opponent. and whoever had the strength to be nothing but a forger of plans his whole life long would be a very happy man: but he would occasionally have to take a rest from this activity by carrying out a plan—and then comes the vexation and the sobering up. Making plans." — This is. Power without victories. self-condemnation and suicide. but they do illuminate individual aspects of the constellation of his personality which with a different constellation of opinions had hitherto remained dark and unrecognizable. not true: teh philosopher thus has to say. human vanity. but the hour of death itself. but somebody has to be. condemning. How one dies is a matter of indifference . atonement and expiation: then let God be the sinner and man his redeemer : then let world history be guilt. becoming. be the sinner: here is free will. 76. especially when old people die. the occasional very bad attacks of pain." but equally in that antithesis "I am not. the irregular or insufficient nourishment of the brain during this last period. very eloquent witness as to that which is called his character. 58. the others to be a judge. 50. hardly does so at all." — This Christianity stood on its head—for what else is it?—is the final lunge in the struggle of the theory of unconditional morality with that of unconditional freedom—a horrible thing if it were anything more than a logical grimace. Interpreting by dreams. or lovers. Whether the individual suffers from an institution that is good for the whole. moreover.coming and going of superstitious impressions and fears. or children. may have to be valued higher than a pallid continuation of painless or complacent states. by crooked and indirect paths. and quite destitute of pathos. into a now conscious. is always sounded too late. that even the meanest intelligence and the coldest heart still feels something of the luster of this word. tempted by the solemn bearing of the bystanders. also that present enjoyment. which is certainly something good. The shrewdest woman and the commonest man think when they hear it of the relatively least selfish moments of their whole life. by means of his morality. the streams of tears and feeling held back or let flow. have made their find in Christianity. 89. even if Eros has only paid them a passing visit. however. sacrifices must be made. The philosophy of the sacrificial animal. especially however the men and women of sublimated sexuality. as if dying were a very important thing and bridges of the most terrible description are here being crossed—all this does not permit us to employ dying as evidence as to the living. consequently unfamiliar. of parents. especially over his momentary wellbeing but also over his enduring advantage and even his continued existence. something which speaks to the memory and to future hope. as a digit of a majority. But such an attitude originates only in those who are not its victims—for they claim in their behalf that the individual may be worth more than many. and gnawed at the heart of its fortunate inventor like a worm. Mores and their victim . entered the world without one. 90. rather. over the advantage of the individual. but did so rather in secret. There is in the word love something so ambiguous and suggestive. The good conscience has as a preliminary stage the bad conscience—the latter is not its opposite: for everything good was once new. the tyranny of the majority. immoral.— Do you think that every good thing has always had a good conscience? — Science. and those countless numbers who never experience love. The good and the good conscience . "Love"— The subtlest artifice which Christianity has over the other religions is a word: it spoke of love. . now unconscious comedy of vanity. hooded or masked like a criminal and at least always with the feeling of dealing in contraband. the moment in paradise. and so we retain mores and morality—which is no more than the feeling for the whole quintessence of mores under which one lives and has been brought up—brought up not as an individual but as a member of a whole. It is. 95.— The origin of mores lies in two ideas: "society is worth more than the individual" and "an enduring advantage is to be preferred to ephemeral advantage"—from which it follows that the enduring advantage of society must be given precedence. contrary to custom. The seriousness with which every dying person is treated has certainly been for many a poor despised devil the most exquisite pleasure of his entire life and a kind of indemnification and part-payment for many deprivations. whether it causes him to atrophy or perish—mores must be preserved. not true that the dying are in general more honest than the living: almost everyone is. unconditionally.— Thus it happens constantly that an individual brings to bear upon himself. Thus it became the lyrical religion (whereas in their two other creations the Semites have given the world heroic-epic religions). however. what interest would we have in science? If a little faith. with the monk's cowl of renunciation! with the humble mien! Much more and much better: that is how our truth sounds! If science were not united with the joy of knowledge and the utility of what is known. not to speak of lesser objectives and remunerations." of their "holy" spirit? Can any religion demand more renunciation. Honesty and play-acting among unbelievers. All influential books try to leave behind this kind of impression: the impression that the widest spiritual and psychical horizon has here been circumscribed and that every star visible now or in the future will have to revolve around the sun that shines here. has a very considerable place in the republic of scientific men. But if the former should challenge us: then be contented and appear to be contented!—then we might easily reply: "We are. may we speak if we have to defend ourselves before believers. sometimes fame and a modest personal immortality are the achievable rewards of this depersonalization. speaks thus: "if Christ really intended to redeem the world. You. ready for any sacrifice. if your belief makes you blessed then appear to be blessed! Your faces have always been more injurious to your belief than our objections have! If those glad tidings of your Bible were written in your faces you would not need to insist so obstinately on the authority of that book: your works. what else would draw us to science? And if the ego does indeed have no place in science. than science does? — — Thus and in similar ways. everyone is not permitted even to understand. through you a new Bible ought to be continually in course of creation! As things are. then ponder the experience of two millennia: which. inventive ego. which we feel when we believe in and behold our "truth"—than does the book that speaks of Christ: a perspicacious man can learn from it all the expedients by which a book can be made into a universal book. hope and charity did not lead our soul towards knowledge. indeed. in their own interests. — What distinguishes us from the pious and the believers is not the quality but the quantity of belief and piety. not among the least contented. however. clothed in the modesty of a question. and finally to be crucified. and especially that master expedient of representing everything as having already been discovered.98. with your defense plea you inscribe your own bill of indictment. Among ourselves. If we had not remained to some extent unscientific men what meaning could science possibly have for us? Taken as a whole and expressed without qualification: to a purely cognitive being knowledge would be a matter of indifference . draw the egoistic more inexorably out of themselves. all your apologies for Christianity have their roots in your lack of Christianity. never to rise again? Are all honest men of science not "poor in spirit" by comparison with that which religious men proclaim of their "knowledge. even that honest and industrious ego already mentioned. — There exists no book that expresses so candidly or contains such an abundance of that which does everybody good once in a while— the joyful enthusiasm. a friend of everyone. . even though it is on their account that most have sworn and continue to swear allegiance to the laws of that republic and of science in general. and in any event with a certain amount of play-acting. for it is hardly possible to conduct a defense without employing some degree of play-acting. your actions ought continually to render the Bible superfluous. Respect. we are contented with less. however. But if you should wish to emerge out of this insufficiency of Christianity. must he not be said to have failed?" 122. the pleasure of those we wish well or revere. the happy. — Must it therefore not be the case that the causes that make such books as this influential will render every purely scientific book poor in influence? Is the latter not condemned to live a lowly existence among the lowly. with nothing still on the way and as yet uncertain. therefore. we must speak more honestly: here we may employ a freedom which. Away. — If genius consists. Shutting his mouth. that is to say. and revile the whole. that that building can be destroyed and nonetheless possess value as material. according to Schopenhauer's observation. 185. 138. as even that does. 137. The worst readers. History perfect and complete would be cosmic selfconsciousness.— This fact can never be sufficiently pondered: Christianity is the religion of antiquity grown old.Good memory. 168. and never loses its savor. the intransitory amid the changing. although it serves every time for nourishment: this it is the great paradox of literature. 201. Error of philosophers. in the connected and lively recollection of experience. like salt.— Many a man fails as an original thinker simply because his memory is too good. Praise of aphorisms. It is the same with critics—they desire our blood. not from malice. but because they want to live. the food that always remains esteemed. on these it could . dirty and confound the remainder.— Good writers have two things in common. man and animal. not our pain. In favor of critics. Marks of the good writer. they prefer to be understood rather than admired.— The worst readers are those who behave like plundering troops: they take away a few things they can use. then in the striving for knowledge of the entire historical past—whichever more mightily distinguishes the modern age from all others and has for the first time demolished the ancient walls between nature and spirit.— When his work opens its mouth. 164. 140. the author has to shut his. Balm and poison. its presupposition is degenerated ancient cultures. and they do not write for knowing and over-acute readers.— A good aphorism is too hard for the tooth of time and is not consumed by all millennia. 224. in the building: posterity discovers it in the bricks with which he built and which are then often used again for better building: in the fact. morality and the physical world—it may be possible to recognize a striving for the genius of mankind as a whole.— Insects sting.— The philosopher believes that the value of his philosophy lies in the whole. Genius of humanity. In parting. To one who is praised. without this enfeeblement. 340. to be sure. there would have been left to us of Greek culture! of the entire cultural past of the human race!—for the barbarian races untouched by Christianity were capable of doing away with ancient cultures altogether: as. 251. have perhaps been capable of gradually finding a higher culture for themselves. so proudly patient! — This Christianity as the evening-bell of good antiquity. elusive. is nothing than to poison it. When most people were born as though with the souls of slaves and the sensuality of old men. whether God owes more gratitude to the Devil or the Devil more gratitude to God for everything having turned out as it has. a rank exuberance of every kind of fantasy must have been the outcome. a new one?—of which. for example. ask what. — Here too there still remains another counter-question and the possibility of a counter-reckoning: if it had not been enfeebled by the poison referred to. to speak the language of Christianity.and can act as a balm. vigorous barbarians Christianity is poison. was demonstrated with fearful clarity by the pagan conquerors of Romanized Britain. When asses are needed. one comes to respect the quiet Christian community and is grateful that it overran the Graeco-Roman world. the German possibly. one of their own. as things are. is a balm to the ears even for him who now wanders through these centuries only as a historian: what must it have been for the men of these centuries themselves! — On the other hand.— Not how one soul comes close to another but how it moves away shows me their kinship and how much they belong together. a confusion of feelings and judgments. a bell broken and weary yet still sweetsounding. would one or other of these vigorous peoples." so that they are no longer capable of hearing the voice of reason and philosophy. mankind has not now the remotest conception? — Thus it is the same here as everywhere: one does not know. that poison-toad with the eyes of Venus. for youthful. 362. a quite tremendous chemical fermentation and decomposition. If one thinks of the Rome of Juvenal [Roman satirical poet (60 to 140 AD)]. — One must. benevolent figures living in expectation of a "better life" and thereby become so undemanding. whether it bear the name of Epictetus or of Epicurus: in such ages the cross of martyrdom and the "trumpet of the last judgment" may perhaps still move the peoples to live a decent life.— You will never get the crowd to cry Hosanna until you ride into town on an ass. . 313. for example. or of seeing wisdom in bodily form. to implant the teaching of sinfulness and damnation into the heroic. childish and animal soul of the ancient German. one learns what it means to confront the "world" with a Cross.— So long as you are praised think only that you are not yet on your own path but on that of another. what a blessing it must have been to encounter beings who were more soul than body and seemed to be an actualization of the Greek condeption of the shades of Hades: modest. and thus in the longer run a fundamental enfeeblement of such barbarians. so silently contemptuous. In ages in which eyes and ears are "filled with mud. Christianity was obliged against its will to assist in making the "world" of antiquity immoral. — Fate seems to have left the choice still up to them. have been in the underworld. my shadow speaks. With these I must come to terms when I have long wandered alone. too. so pale and somber. The Wanderer: Someone said something—where? and who? It almost seems as if I myself were speaking. they could never again grow weary of life. alas. whereas the inactive and contemplative cogitate on what they have already chosen. when they entered into life. Anti-theses. and shall be there often yet. 378. Four pairs it was that did not deny themselves to my sacrifice: Epicurus and Montaigne. though in an even weaker voice than mine. Goethe and Spinoza. or think up for myself and others—on these eight I fix my eyes and see their eyes fixed on me."— Active. 366. so restless and.— The most senile thing ever thought about man is contained in the celebrated saying "the ego is always hateful". 385."— In the former. in which I do not believe.— I." but as if there hovered before them the commandment: will a self and thou shalt become a self. The journey to Hades. Plato and Rousseau. the most childish is the even more celebrated "love thy neighbor as thyself.— It ranks you far beneath him that you seek to establish the exceptions while he seeks to establish the rule. and not only rams have I sacrificed to be able to speak with a few of the dead. Pascal and Schopenhauer. like Odysseus. but I don't believe it. What is genius?— To will an exalted end and the means to it. after death. but I have not spared my own blood. I hear it. I would like to give you an opportunity to speak.On spiritual order of rank. The Shadow (after a pause): Are you not happy to have an opportunity to speak? The Wanderer: By God and all things. knowledge of human nature has ceased. they may call me right and wrong. so lusting for life—while these men then seem so alive to me as if now. . successful natures act. 408. not according to the dictum "know thyself. on one occasion. to them will I listen when in the process they call each other right and wrong. resolve. "Will a self. But eternal aliveness is what counts: what matters "eternal life" or any life! The Wanderer and His Shadow SELECTED TEXT Preface The Shadow: Since I haven't heard your voice in so long. Whatsoever I say. in the latter it has not yet even begun. May the living forgive me that occasionally they appear to me as shades. my friend! Up to now one assumed in my opinions more of shadow than of me. The Wanderer: Perhaps you are wrong. The Wanderer: I believe I understand you. in all haste and peaceableness. which should be a mystery to any third party. then it is already enough to say something—that's the reasonable policy under which I agree to converse. The Wanderer: Only now do I notice how impolite I am. The Shadow: But shadows are shier than human beings: you won't tell anyone how we have spoken together! The Wanderer: How we have spoken together? Heaven forfend! especially from long drawn-out literary discussions. be serious! My first question requires seriousness. we can agree upon. For facial beauty. but his vanity would never ask: "Am I to flatter?" The Shadow: Nor would man's vanity. clarity of speech. if our reason stands still: thus we will not become annoying and press each other in conversation when something sounds incomprehensible to us. . the wisest one becomes once the fool and three times the dullard. and the time you have to answer them is perhaps only brief. Therefore. The Shadow: Am I to flatter? The Wanderer: I thought a man's shadow was his vanity. since everyone will recognize therein only your opinions —nobody will think of the shadow. I love human beings. as far as I know. despite your somewhat shadowy expressions. ***** 1. And we are good friends. They are not opponents: they are rather affectionate. The Shadow: More shadow than light? Is it possible? The Wanderer: Dear fool. when I saw two and then five camels in a forest near Pisa. A really amusing discussion—when written down—is merely a painting with false perspectives: everything is too long or too short—nevertheless. If Plato had less desire to "spin" his readers. they would find more pleasure in Plato. which all things cast. The Shadow: It's good. With longer discussions. because they are devotees of light and I'm pleased when their eyes shine as they discern and discover knowledge—untiring knowers and discoverers that they are. That shadow. that we are both indulgent in the same way. perhaps you'll allow me to indicate what we agreed upon? The Shadow: I'm happy with that. The Wanderer: That's what I thought. if the sunshine of perception falls upon them—that shadow am I as well. shadow is as necessary as light. the shadow slips away after it. inquire—as I did twice already— whether it could speak: it always speaks. The Wanderer: Your modesty is not complimentary to your confessor. You should know that I love the shadow as much as I cherish the light. The Shadow: And I hate the same thing you hate: the night. holding hands—and if the light disappears. If one does not know how to answer. But you were right: good friends give each other—here and there—a cryptic word as a sign of agreement. my beloved shadow: I have not said a word about how pleased I am to see you as well as hear you.The Shadow: Let's accept it and don't continue to think about it—in one hour it will all be over. quality and firmness of character. Let's see what. let's dispense with the preliminaries! A few hundred questions press upon my soul. envious actions. however careful one may be otherwise. that there exists a graduated order of classes of facts which corresponds to a graduated world-order: thus we isolate. separate from one another. thus.)—in both cases erroneously. belief in freedom of will is incompatible precisely with the idea of a continuous. indivisible.— Probability but no truth: appearance of freedom but no freedom— it is on account of these two fruits that the tree of knowledge cannot be confused with the tree of life.— Here an experience in the social-political domain has been falsely transferred to the farthest metaphysical domain: in the former the strong man is also the free man. it is an atomism in the domain of willing and knowing. over a third as a logical conscience. These four will. Through words and concepts we are still continually misled into imagining things as simpler than they are. etc. evil.— For man to feel any sort of physical pleasure or displeasure he must be in the grip of one of these two illusions: either he believes in the identity of certain facts. Freedom of will and isolation of facts . seek the freedom of their will precisely where each of them is most firmly fettered: it is as if the silkworm sought the freedom of its will in spinning. in knowledge. but also again groups of supposedly identical facts (good. Where the theory of freedom of will originated . the lively feeling of joy and sorrow. we think originally that through them we grasp the true in things. 9. identical facts: neither exists. Belief in freedom of will—that is to say in identical facts and in isolated facts—has in language its constant evangelist and advocate. sympathetic. not only the individual fact. however.Of the tree of knowledge. wherein he feels himself animated.— Over one man necessity stands in the shape of his passions. certain sensations: in which case he experiences psychical pleasure or displeasure . A philosophical mythology lies concealed in language which breaks out again every moment. the slave. That through which the individual human being is strong. boldness in desire.— The word and the concept are the most manifest ground for our belief in this isolation of groups of actions: we do not only designate things with them. In reality. 11. we praise and censure. high hope. in mischievousness respectively. each existing in and for itself. he involuntarily thinks must also always be the element of his freedom: he accounts dependence and dullness.— Our usual imprecise mode of observation takes a group of phenomena as one and calls it a fact: between this fact and another fact it imagines in addition an empty space. indivisible flowing: it presupposes that every individual action is isolate and indivisible. over a fourth as caprice and a mischievous pleasure in escapades. undivided. it isolates every fact. lives dull and oppressed. as we have said. while the subjected man. over another as the habit of hearing and obeying. all our doing and knowing is not a succession of facts and empty spaces but a continuous flux.— The theory of freedom of will is an invention of the ruling classes. however. in duty.— Just as we understand characters only imprecisely. in passion. Now. independence and the feeling of living as necessarily coupled. 12. The fundamental errors. How does this happen? Evidently because each considers himself most free where his feeling of living is greatest. so do we also facts: we speak of identical characters. Now. however. powerfulness in hatred is the property of the rulers and the independent. homogenous. only under this false presupposition that there are identical facts. whether he was able to employ his intelligence. the creature which calls its history world history!— Vanitas vanitatum homo. The intelligence is not the cause." and likewise gains pleasure or displeasure. for instance when he thinks "I did not have to do this. not from an external nor from an internal compulsion? (Consider. in a case in which willfulness ought not to reign. because he acted without a reason where he ought to have acted in accordance with reasons. Have the adherents of the theory of free will the right to punish? — People who judge and punish as a profession try to establish in each case whether an ill-doer is at all accountable for his deed. 15. For an offense to be punishable presupposes that its perpetrator intentionally acted contrary to the better dictates of his intelligence. If he is punished. Where this knowledge is lacking a man is. Why did he do this? But it is precisely this question that can no longer even be asked: it was a deed without a "for that . is a result of an intentional neglect to learn. It is this supposed willfulness." "this could have happened differently. Without the errors which are active in every psychical pleasure and displeasure a humanity would never have come into existence—whose fundamental feeling is and remains that man is the free being in a world of unfreedom. his ignorantia legis [ignorance of the law] for example. how modest man is! 17. in which the deed. unfree and not responsible: except if his lack of knowledge. he acted as an animal would. the astonishing exception. the capacity to choose. the superbeast and almost-god. occurs as a miracle. arising out of nothing. the mighty ruler over nature and the despiser of it. that every so-called "external compulsion" is nothing more than the internal compulsion of fear and pain. because it could not decide against the better reasons? And here one calls "free will" to one's aid: it is pure willfulness which is supposed to decide. he is punished for having preferred the worse reasons to the better: which he must therefore have known. moreover. But how can anyone intentionally be less intelligent than he has to be? Whence comes the decision when the scales are weighted with good and bad motives? Not from error. the meaning of creation which cannot be thought away. If. on the other hand. which knows law.— Before one seeks men one must have found the lantern. ought to have permitted no choice. it is not usual to punish him: he lacked.— How little pleasure most people need to make them find life good. or he believes in freedom of will. The modern Diogenes. Modesty of man. prohibition and command." that is to say. whether he acted for reasons and not unconsciously or under compulsion. as impulse is supposed to enter within which motive plays no part. and to have had the effect of compulsion and a higher power. in which case. he did not see the better reasons. from blindness. Will it have to be the lantern of the cynic? 23.) Whence? one asks again and again. which is punished: the rational intelligence. one says. when he failed to learn what he should have learned he had already preferred the worse reasons to the better and must now suffer the consequences of his bad choice. the solution of the cosmic riddle. Thus the offender is punished because he employs "free will. according to the prevailing view. perhaps from dull-wittedness or weakness of mind.through comparing his present states with past ones and declaring them identical or not identical (as happens in all recollection). the eternal miracle worker whether he does good or ill. As if every word were not a pocket into which now this. something omitted. Time is needed—when instead of concentrating on oneself one begins to think about one's opponent. for example) which have hurt us: the sense of our countermove is to put a stop to the injury by bringing the machine to a halt. . The offender certainly preferred the worse reasons to the better. Distinguish first of all that defensive return blow which one delivers even against lifeless objects (moving machinery. A fair exchange. the time expended. its rarity. now that. As soon as he sets the price with reference to the need of the other he is a subtler robber and extortioner. merely in order to get away with life and limb.— The word "revenge" is said so quickly it almost seems as if it could contain no more than one conceptual and perceptional root. the strength of the counterblow must be so strong to succeed in this that it smashes the machine. The presupposition that for an offense to be punishable its perpetrator must have intentionally acted contrary to his intelligence—it is precisely this presupposition which is annulled by the assumption of "free will. as it were.reason. 33.— If money is the exchange object it must be considered that a shilling in the hand of a rich heir. etc. one wants to hurt." You adherents of the theory of "free will" have no right to punish. now something more combined. in accordance with the first condition of all punishability laid down above. together with its sentimental value. but where that is too strong to be destructible immediately by an individual. on the other hand. a shopkeeper. In the great world of money the shilling of the laziest rich man is more lucrative than that of the poor and industrious. without origin." too. an all-out. This happens in the second type of revenge: reflection on the other person's vulnerability and capacity for suffering is its presupposition. and the hen that hatched it sat on her egg in a place far removed from reality. asking oneself how one can hurt him the most. a student are quite different things: according to whether he did almost nothing or a great deal to get it. something purposeless and non-rational. he will nevertheless strike as hard as he can —making.attempt. And so one continues to strive to discover it: just as our economists have not yet wearied of scenting a similar unity in the word "value" and of searching after the original root-concept of the word. is now this. but without reason or intention: he certainly failed to employ his intelligence. now several things at once have been put! Thus "revenge. now that. and that in the last analysis one does not think at all of the harming person in such a case but only of oneself: we act that way without any wish to do harm in return. the intelligence had not been employed: for the omission is under all circumstances unintentional! and only the intentional omission to perform what the law commands counts as punishable. 25." without motive. a day laborer. your own principles deny you that right! But these are at bottom nothing but a very peculiar conceptual mythology. but consider that it is only self-preservation that has here put its rational machinery into motion. of course.— But such a deed too ought. not to be punished! It is not as if something had not been done here. each ought to receive little or a great deal in exchange for it: in reality it is. the other way round. Protecting oneself against further harm. One behaves the same way against persons who harm one. Elements of revenge. Occasionally..— An exchange is honest and just only when each of those participating demands as much as his own object seems worth to him. but not for the purpose of not employing it. all right. as long as one feels the harm immediately: if you want to call this action an act of revenge. including the effort it cost to acquire it. Finally. for our opponent thus demonstrated that he did not fear us. But what has he done? And what use is it to us if he now suffers after we have suffered on his account? What matters is a restoration. wants to prove itself by means of the counterblow. The revenge of restoration does not protect us against further harm.is so little a consideration for the seeker of such vengeance that he almost regularly brings about further harm to himself and quite often anticipates this in cold blood. while the act of revenge of the first type serves only self-preservation. But even forgoing all such counterlove is a sacrifice that love is prepared to make if only it does not have to hurt the beloved being: that would mean hurting oneself more than this sacrifice hurts.) In the first type of revenge it is fear that strikes the counterblow. Depending on whether he projects himself strongly or weakly into the soul of his opponent and the spectators. Just so. being a member of society who thinks further and considers the future. here we find almost total indifference to what the opponent will do yet. here. if he lacks this type of imagination entirely. it is the absence of fear that. his revenge will be more embittered or tamer. this motive is nobler than the other one. Nothing therefore seems more different than the inner motivation or the two ways of action that are called by one name. Therefore they choose the means of a duel although the courts offer them help in attaining satisfaction for the insult: but they do not accept an undangerous restoration of their honor as sufficient. children: such losses are not brought back by revenge. as I have tried to show. on the other hand. rank. he will forgo revenge in the not unusual case in which he loves the doer: to be sure. If our honor has suffered from our opponent. By revenge we demonstrate that we do not fear him either: this constitutes the equalization. it does not make good the harm suffered —except in one case. the restoration. Perhaps we have lost through our opponent possessions. "revenge. Even when he has recourse to the courts he wants revenge as a private person—but besides. but later. when he has time to think about the point of his injured honor. he thus loses honor in his opponent's eyes and perhaps thus becomes less worthy of being loved in return. he will not think of revenge if he despises the doer and the spectators of the deed—because they. the strength of the counterblow is determined solely by what he has done to us. But this has suffered damage in every instance in which suffering has been inflicted on us deliberately. being despised. then revenge can restore it. it is also important whether he believes his honor to have been injured in the eyes of others (the world) or only in the eyes of the opponent who insulted him: in the latter case he will prefer secret revenge. (The intent of showing one's utter lack of fear goes so far in some persons that the danger their revenge involves for them—loss of health or life or other damage—is for them an indispensable condition of all revenge." Nevertheless it happens quite frequently that the person seeking revenge is unclear about what really induced him to act: perhaps he delivered the counterblow from fear and in order to preserve himself. the restoration concerns solely a loss incidental to all these losses. in the former public revenge. Thus: everybody will revenge himself unless he is without honor or full of contempt or full of love for the person who has harmed and insulted him. he will not think of revenge at all. Moreover. for in that case the feeling for "honor" is not present in him and hence cannot be injured. cannot accord him any honor and hence also cannot take it away. In the first type of revenge it was fear of a second blow that made the counterblow as strong as possible. he convinces himself that he avenged himself for his honor's sake—after all. friends. he also wants society's revenge on one who does not . because it cannot demonstrate their lack of fear. Punishment desires to prevent further damage. Society thus recognizes only those virtues that are advantageous. Indubitably. insofar as society uses punishment for its self-preservation and deals a counterblow in self-defense. or out of habit because one had seen them done all around one from childhood on.honor it. through lack of self-observation and observation of those who are to be brought up. to take from the passions their terrible character and thus prevent their becoming devastating torrents. and is up to us.— The same actions as within primitive society appear to have been performed first with a view to common utility have been performed by later generations for other motives: out of fear of or reverence for those who demanded and recommended them. Those virtues that incur loss cannot. this is a proof of my power"—and are thus virtues related to pride. or from vanity because they were commended. consequently. punishment is revenge. the individual. and perhaps this is the main support of that above-mentioned conceptual confusion by virtue of which the individual who revenges himself usually does not know what he really wants. you dismal philosophical blindworms speak of the terrible character of human passions. it is you yourselves who first allowed the passions to develop into such monsters that you are overcome by fear at the word "passion"! It was up to you. whose basic motive. let us rather work honestly together on the task of transforming the passions of mankind one and all into joys. however circumscribed. that of utility. 37. as proof that one would like to be merciful. The virtues that incur loss. 34. Such actions. or from benevolence because their performance everywhere produced joy and concurring faces. Thus judicial punishment restores both private honor and the honor of society— which means.— One should not inflate one's oversights into eternal fatalities. but because they are not performed . 40. one rejoices when he makes use of it. are then called moral actions: not because.— In order to raise an accusation against the whole nature of the world. As if wherever there have been passions there had also been terribleness! As if this kind of terribleness was bound to persist in the world!— Through a neglect of the small facts.— As members of society we believe we ought not to practice certain virtues from which as private persons we acquire the highest honor and a certain satisfaction. A kind of cult of the passions. has been forgotten. for example mercy and consideration for transgressors of all kinds—in general any action by which the interests of society would suffer through our virtue. or at least not harmful to it (those that can be practiced without its incurring loss. they are performed out of those other motives. Thus both of these so different elements of revenge are actually tied together in punishment. have come into existence within society. They are thus virtues belonging among non-equals. they are the virtues of bearing the sense: "I am sufficiently powerful to put up with a palpable loss. devised by the superior. for example justice). since even now there is opposition to them within every society. even though as a society one absolutely cannot be. for instance. The significance of forgetting for the moral sensation . it also contains that other element of revenge which we described first. it desires to deter. No bench of judges may conscientiously practice mercy: this privilege is reserved to the king as an individual. from any conscious reason of utility. is almost a command not only for the stubborn but also for those who thirst for knowledge: one risks an experiment to find out why the prohibition was pronounced. It is thus the conscience that excites that feeling of compulsion ("I must do this. whereas human vanity is not satisfied even with that. but not yet for that reason against it. That is why the high value pity has come to be accorded presents a problem. like the colonist who has mastered the forests and swamps. are suitable only for an age of subjugated reason: now. To sow the seeds of good spiritual works in the soil of the subdued passions is then the immediate urgent task. Linguistic danger to spiritual freedom." presented without reasons. 53. the sensation most desired being one of predominance and the inspiration of fear. which had great difficulty in asserting itself against all the individual private utilities and making itself more highly respected. not do that") which does not ask: why must I?— In every case in which a thing is done with "because" and "why" man acts without conscience. . Prohibitions without reasons. Thus it comes to appear that morality has not grown out of utility. 50.— Every word is a prejudice. or feared as a deception.— Where does it come from. has had to struggle too long and too hard against the self-interest and self-will of the individual not at last to rate any other motive morally higher than utility.— To show pity is felt as a sign of contempt because one has clearly ceased to be an object of fear as soon as one is pitied. would have a harmful rather than a useful effect. Overcoming of the passions. such a prohibition as "Thou shalt not kill" or "Thou shalt not commit adultery. where all praiseworthy behavior formally excludes behavior with a view to utility?— It is plain that society. like those of the Decalogue.— The man who has overcome his passions has entered into possession of the most fertile ground. the hearth of all morality and all eulogy of moral behavior. Moral prohibitions. if it is not so viewed. the reason for which we do not understand or admit. not a goal. while it is originally social utility. 55. Pity and contempt.— The content of our conscience is everything that was during the years of our childhood regularly demanded of us without reason by people we honored or feared. just as the praise now accorded selfless disinterestedness needs to be explained: originally it was despised. all kinds of weeds and devilish nonsense will quickly spring up in this rich soil now unoccupied.— The belief in authorities is the source of the conscience: it is therefore not the voice of God in the heart of man but the voice of some men in man. One has sunk below the level of equilibrium. 52. this hatred of utility which becomes visible here. Content of the conscience.— A prohibition. 48. and soon there will be more rank confusion than there ever was before. The overcoming itself is only a means. — Paul thought up the idea and Calvin rethought it. or second.56. 85. 87.g. and his lusts and attempts to become master in anything else. is as stupid as a farmer who stakes out his field besides a torrential stream without protecting himself against it.— A man who refuses to become master over his wrath. 67. too. 65. The pathways of the most various philosophical modes of life lead back to him. not opposites.— If all goes well. "warm and cold") where they are.. 78. the spiritual-moral world. Paul has remained Saul after all—the persecutor of God. Belief in the sickness as sickness.— The general imprecise way of observing sees everywhere in nature opposites (as. . his choler and revengefulness. And he also possessed the finer intellect. 86. What is needed first.. The persecutor of God.. and that this beautiful world plan was instituted to reveal the glory of God: heaven and hell and humanity are thus supposed to exist—to satisfy the vanity of God! What cruel and insatiable vanity must have flared in the soul of the man who thought this up first. but differences of degree. e. Socrates excels the founder of Christianity in being able to be serious cheerfully and in possessing that wisdom full of roguishness that constitutes the finest state of the human soul. estrangement.. in terms of such opposites. This bad habit has led us into wanting to comprehend and analyze the inner world..— A theme for a great poet would be God's boredom on the seventh day of creation. Only the most acute and active animals are capable of boredom. frigidity has entered into human feelings because we think we see opposites instead of transitions. the time will come when one will take up the memorabilia of Socrates rather than the Bible as a guide to morals and reason. arrogance. Habit of seeing opposites. harshness. An unspeakable amount of pain.— The saying "The Magyar is much too lazy to feel bored" is thoughtprovoking. Spirit and boredom. it was Christianity which first brought sin into the world. that for innumerable people damnation has been decreed from eternity.— It was Christianity which first painted the Devil on the world's wall. Socrates. Belief in the cure which it offered has now been shaken to its deepest roots: but belief in the sickness which it taught and propagated continues to exist. to make ourselves accessible to the understanding of those foreigners who learn our language. however. The extreme limit Aristotle allowed for the size of a city—it must be possible for the herald to make himself audible to the whole assembled community—this limit is of as little concern to us as is the city community itself: we want to make ourself understood. continually to invent things more worth communicating and to be able actually to communicate them. The philosopher of sensual pleasure. 200.Learning to write well. the fir tree to wait: and both without impatience —they give no thought to the little people beneath them devoured by their impatience and their curiosity. where writing badly is regarded as a national privilege. but out over the nations.— The age of speaking well is past. To write better. they circumscribe our experiences or situations with such poetic boldness and decisiveness that in the morning we are always amazed at ourselves when we remember our dreams.— The pine tree seems to listen. 203. Dreams. 176. an enemy of all free spirits. to assist towards making all good things common property and freely available to the free-minded. means at the same time also to think better.— One receives as a reward for much ennui.— Whoever preaches the opposite and sets no store by writing well and reading well—both virtues grow together and decline together—is in fact showing the peoples a way of becoming more and more national: he is augmenting the sickness of this century and is an enemy of all good Europeans. 192. boredom— such as a solitude without friends. finally. books. He who completely entrenches himself against boredom also entrenches himself against himself: he will never get to drink the strongest refreshing draught from his own innermost fountain. 194. despondency. little cheeses and in addition three or four good friends—these were the sensual pleasures of Epicurus. That is why everyone who is a good European now has to learn to write well and ever better: this is still so even if he happens to have been born in Germany. We use up too much artistry in our dreams—and therefore often are impoverished during the day. duties. The solitary speaks. to prepare the way for that distant state of things in which the good Europeans will come into possession of their great task: the direction and supervision of the total culture of the earth. because the age of the city cultures is past. . The patient. not merely beyond the city. figs. passions must bring with it—those quarterhours of profoundest contemplation within oneself and nature.— On the rare occasions when our dreams succeed and achieve perfection—most dreams are bungled—they are symbolic chains of scenes and images in place of a narrative poetic language. to become translatable into the language of one's neighbor.— A little garden. Too much and too little.— All men now live through too much and think through too little: they suffer at the same time from extreme hunger and from colic, and therefore become thinner and thinner, no matter how much they eat. Whoever says now, "I have not lived through anything"—is an ass. 204. End and goal.— Not every end is the goal. The end of a melody is not its goal; and yet: if a melody has not reached its end, it has not reached its goal. A parable. 206. Forgetting our objectives.— During the journey we commonly forget its goal. Almost every profession is chosen and commenced as a means to an end but continued as an end in itself. Forgetting our objectives is the most frequent act of stupidity. 217. Classical and romantic.— The classically disposed spirits no less than those romantically inclined—as these two species always exist—carry a vision of the future: but the former out of the strength of their time: the latter out of its weakness. 249. Positive and negative.— The thinker needs nobody to refute him: for that he suffices himself. 251. Not to assert one's rights.— To exercise power costs effort and demands courage. That is why so many fail to assert rights to which they are perfectly entitled—because a right is a kind of power but they are too lazy or too cowardly to exercise it. The virtues which cloak these faults are called patience and forbearance. 261. Letter.— A letter is an unannounced visit; the mailman, the mediator of impolite incursions. One ought to have one hour in every eight days for receiving letters, and then take a bath. 267. There are no educators.— As a thinker one should speak only of self-education. The education of youth by others is either an experiment carried out on an as yet unknown and unknowable subject, or a leveling on principle with the object of making a new being, whatever it may be, conform to the customs and habits then prevailing: in both cases therefore something unworthy of the thinker, the work of those elders and teachers whom a man of rash honesty once described as nos ennemis naturels. One day, when one has long since been educated as the world understands it, one discovers oneself: here begins the task of the thinker; now the time has come to call on him for assistance—not as an educator but as one who has educated himself and thus knows how it is done. 273. The unwomanly.— "Stupid as a man" say the women: "cowardly as a woman" say the men. Stupidity is in woman the unwomanly. 278. Premises of the machine age.— The press, the machine, the railway, the telegraph are premises whose thousand-year conclusion no one has yet dared to draw. 284. The means to real peace.— No government admits any more that it keeps an army to satisfy occasionally the desire for conquest. Rather the army is supposed to serve for defense, and one invokes the morality that approves of self-defense. But this implies one's own morality and the neighbor's immorality; for the neighbor must be thought of as eager to attack and conquer if our state must think of means of self-defense. Moreover, the reasons we give for requiring an army imply that our neighbor, who denies the desire for conquest just as much as does our own state, and who, for his part, also keeps an army only for reasons of self-defense, is a hypocrite and a cunning criminal who would like nothing better than to overpower a harmless and awkward victim without any fight. Thus all states are now ranged against each other: they presuppose their neighbor's bad disposition and their own good disposition. This presupposition, however, is inhumane, as bad as war and worse. At bottom, indeed, it is itself the challenge and the cause of wars, because, as I have said, it attributes immorality to the neighbor and thus provokes a hostile disposition and act. We must abjure the doctrine of the army as a means of self-defense just as completely as the desire for conquests. And perhaps the great day will come when people, distinguished by wars and victories and by the highest development of a military order and intelligence, and accustomed to make the heaviest sacrifices for these things, will exclaim of its own free will, " We break the sword," and will smash its entire military establishment down to its lowest foundations. Rendering oneself unarmed when one had been the best-armed, out of a height of feeling—that is the means to real peace, which must always rest on a peace of mind; whereas the so-called armed peace, as it now exists in all countries, is the absence of peace of mind. One trusts neither oneself nor one's neighbor and, half from hatred, half from fear, does not lay down arms. Rather perish than hate and fear, and twice rather perish than make oneself hated and feared— this must someday become the highest maxim for every single commonwealth. Our liberal representatives, as is well known, lack the time for reflecting on the nature of man: else they would know that they work in vain when they work for a "gradual decrease of the military burden." Rather, only when this kind of need has become greatest will the kind of god be nearest who alone can help here. The tree of war-glory can only be destroyed all at once, by a stroke of lightning: but lightning, as indeed you know, comes from a cloud—and from up high. 289. Hundred-year quarantine.— Democratic institutions are quarantine arrangements to combat that ancient pestilence, lust for tyranny: as such they are very useful and very boring. 290. The most dangerous follower.— The most dangerous follower is he whose defection would destroy the whole party: that is to say, the best follower. 298. From the practice of wise men .— To become wise, one must wish to have certain experiences and run, as it were, into their gaping jaws. This, of course, is very dangerous; many a wise guy has been swallowed. 302. How one tries to improve bad arguments.— Some people throw a bit of their personality after their bad arguments, as if that might straighten their paths and turn them into right and good arguments—just as a man in a bowling alley, after he has let go of the ball, still tries to direct it with gestures. 304. Man!— What is the vanity of the vainest man compared with the vanity which the most modest possesses when, in the midst of nature and the world, he feels himself to be "man"! 317. Opinions and fish.— Possessing opinions is like possessing fish, assuming one has a fishpond. One has to go fishing and needs some luck—then one has one's own fish, one's own opinions. I am speaking of live opinions, of live fish. Others are satisfied if they own a cabinet of fossils—and in their heads, "convictions." 323. Remorse.— Never yield to remorse, but at once tell yourself: remorse would simply mean adding to the first act of stupidity a second.— If you have done harm, see how you can do good.— If you are punished for your actions, bear the punishment with the feeling that you are doing good—by deterring others from falling prey to the same folly. Every evildoer who is punished may feel that he is a benefactor of humanity. 324. To become a thinker.— How can one become a thinker if he does not spend at least a third of the day without passions, people and books? 326. Don't touch!— There are terrible people who, instead of solving a problem, bungle it and make it more difficult for all who come after. Whoever can't hit the nail on the head should, please, not hit it at all. 330. "— We should not let ourselves be burnt by our opinions: we are not that sure of them.— With this motto for individuals he recalls an ancient great and moving saying intended for all which has remained hanging over all mankind as a sign and motto by which anyone shall perish who inscribes it on his banner too soon—by which Christianity perished. 333. nothing has pleased me more than a promise: you want again to become a good neighbor to the things closest to you. The time has. and then you abandon us as well."— It is still the age of the individual. Only the ennobled man may be given freedom of the spirit. I see. It is true. Because. admit it. The Shadow: And. Now. you shadows are "better human beings" than we are. so far you have slandered us all too often. only he may say that he lives for the sake of joy and for the sake of no further goal. the light shuns human beings even more frequently. ***** Afterword The Shadow: From everything that you said. are those heavy and pregnant errors contained in the conceptions of morality. The Wanderer: Delicately! Very delicately! Oh. from being deprived for so long of clean air and free movement:—these chains. we shun them: that's the extent of our freedom. however. however. But perhaps for this: that we may have and change our opinions. so the lightest and freest spirits are in their tendencies foretellers of the weather that is coming. I shall never cease from repeating. The wind in the valley and the opinions of the marketplace of today indicate nothing of that which is coming but only of that which has been. and we need to proceed with the greatest caution. but nevertheless we are not servants. The Wanderer: Oh. he suffers from having worn his chains for so long.— We stand now in the midst of our work of removing these chains. This will benefit us poor shadows as well. more spiritual. The Wanderer: Slander? But why haven't you ever defended yourselves? You were near to our ear. Dying for the "truth. you call us "obtrusive". 350. it seems. and in any other mouth his motto would be perilous: Peace all around me and goodwill to all things closest to me. nevertheless. When human beings shun the light. The golden watchword. good will toward men.Weather prophets.— Just as the clouds tell us the direction of the wind high above our heads. Only when this sickness from one's chains has also been overcome will the first great goal have truly been attained: the separation of man from the animals. . to him alone does alleviation of life draw near and salve his wounds. more joyful. more reflective than any animal is. still not yet come when all men are to share the experience of those shepherds who saw the heavens brighten above them and heard the words: "On earth peace. one very often finds us in the retinue of human beings. religion and metaphysics.— Many chains have been laid upon man so that he should no longer behave like an animal: and he has in truth become gentler. The Shadow: It seemed to us as if we were much too close to be allowed to speak of ourselves. we understand at least one thing well: to be silent and wait—no Englishman understands it better. it's getting too cold for me.The Shadow: I've often abandoned you with sorrow: it remains dark for man since I—being eager for knowledge—cannot always be around. I would be adverse to the best if I had to share it with someone—I do not want slaves around me. The Wanderer: —Where are you? Where are you? . but also become disdainful of your master. It occurred to me that I've often been at your heels like a dog. I don't even like dogs. and lead a life of degradation and disgust? Let's be content with this freedom. lazy tail-wagging parasites that became "doglike" only as servants of man and who are still praised for their faithfulness to their master and follow him in this manner. The Wanderer: Do you know—do I know?—whether you would undergo a sudden change from slave to master? Or remain a slave. Thus. such as you have it. is it time to part? I had to give you the last blow—and I see that you became darker thereby. The Shadow: I blushed. that's what they say. in the color that I'm able to blush. the sun is sinking. As full payment for the complete understanding of man. I would probably be your slave. The Wanderer: What am I to do? The Shadow: Step under these spruces and look out at the mountains. The Shadow: Like his shadow. and that you then— The Wanderer: And couldn't I do in all haste something to please you? Don't you have a desire? The Shadow: Nothing. and for too long? The Wanderer: Oh. Yet today—have I already followed you too easily. you and me! Because the sight of one unfree turns my greatest joys into rancor. except perhaps the same desire that the philosophical "dog" had of the great Alexander: move a little out of the sun.