No More Learning

Wagner is jealous of all periods that have shown
restraint: he despises beauty and grace, and finds
only his own virtues in the “Germans,” and even
attributes all his failings to them.
3O.
Wagner has not the power to unlock and
liberate the soul of those he frequents: Wagner
is not sure of himself, but distrustful and arrogant.
His art has this effect upon artists, it is envious
of all rivals.
3I.
Plato's Envy. He would fain monopolise
Socrates. He saturates the latter with himself,
pretends to adorn him (kakos Xokpárms), and tries to
separate all Socratists from him in order himself
to appear as the only true apostle. But his
historical presentation of him is false, even to a
parlous degree : just as Wagner's presentation of
Beethoven and Shakespeare is false.
32.
When a dramatist speaks about himself he plays
a part: this is inevitable. When Wagner speaks
about Bach and Beethoven he speaks like one for
whom he would fain be taken. But he impresses


## p. 92 (#128) #############################################

92 - SELECTED APHORISMS
only those who are already convinced, for his
dissimulation and his genuine nature are far too
violently at variance.
33.
Wagner struggles against the “frivolity” in his
nature, which to him the ignoble (as opposed to
Goethe) constituted the joy of life.
34.
Wagner has the mind of the ordinary man who
prefers to trace things to one cause. The Jews
do the same : one aim, therefore one Saviour.
In this way he simplifies German and culture;
wrongly but strongly.
35.
Wagner admitted all this to himself often enough
when in private communion with his soul: I only
wish he had also admitted it publicly. For what
constitutes the greatness of a character if it is not
this, that he who possesses it is able to take sides
even against himself in favour of truth.
Wagner's Teutonism.
36.
That which is un-German in Wagner. He
lacks the German charm and grace of a Beethoven,
a Mozart, a Weber; he also lacks the flowing,
cheerful fire (Allegro con brio) of Beethoven and
Weber. He cannot be free and easy without
being grotesque. He lacks modesty, indulges in


## p. 93 (#129) #############################################

SELECTED APHORISMS 93
big drums, and always tends to surcharge his
effect. He is not the good official that Bach was.
Neither has he that Goethean calm in regard
to his rivals.
37.
Wagner always reaches the high-water mark
of his vanity when he speaks of the German nature
(incidentally it is also the height of his imprudence);
for, if Frederick the Great's justice, Goethe's nobility
and freedom from envy, Beethoven's sublime
resignation, Bach's delicately transfigured spiritual
life, if steady work performed without any thought
of glory and success, and without envy, constitute
the true German qualities, would it not seem as if
Wagner almost wished to prove he is no German P
38.
Terrible wildness, abject sorrow, emptiness,
the shudder of joy, unexpectedness, in short all
the qualities peculiar to the Semitic racel I
believe that the Jews approach Wagner's art with
more understanding than the Aryans do.
39.
A passage concerning the Jews, taken from
Taine. —As it happens, I have misled the reader,
the passage does not concern Wagner at all. —But
can it be possible that Wagner is a Jew? In that
case we could readily understand his dislike of
Jews. ”
* See note on page 37.



## p. 94 (#130) #############################################

94 SELECTED APHORISMS
4O.
Wagner's art is absolutely the art of the age: an
aesthetic age would have rejected it. The more
subtle people amongst us actually do reject it even
now. The coarsifying of everything aesthetic. —
Compared with Goethe's ideal it is very far behind.
The moral contrast of these self-indulgent burningly
loyal creatures of Wagner, acts like a spur, like an
irritant: and even this sensation is turned to account
in obtaining an effect.
4 I.
What is it in our age that Wagner's art expresses P
That brutality and most delicate weakness which
exist side by side, that running wild of natural
instincts, and nervous hyper-sensitiveness, that
thirst for emotion which arises from fatigue and
the love of fatigue. —All this is understood by the
Wagnerites.
42.
Stupefaction or intorication constitute all Wag-
nerian art. On the other hand I could mention
instances in which Wagner stands higher, in which
real joy flows from him.
43.
The reason why the figures in Wagner's art
behave so madly, is because he greatly feared lest
people would doubt that they were alive.
44.
* Wagner's art is an appeal to inartistic people; all
means are welcomed which help towards obtaining


## p. 95 (#131) #############################################

SELECTED APHORISMS 95
an effect. It is calculated not to produce an
artistic effect but an effect upon the nerves in
general.
45.
Apparently in Wagner we have an art for every-
body, because coarse and subtle means seem to
be united in it. Albeit its pre-requisite may be
musico-aesthetic education, and particularly with
moral indifference.
46.
In Wagner we find the most ambitious combina-
tion of all means with the view of obtaining the
strongest effect: whereas genuine musicians quietly
develop individual genres.
47.
Dramatists are borrowers—their principal source
of wealth—artistic thoughts drawn from the epos.
Wagner borrowed from classical music besides.
Dramatists are constructive geniuses, they are not
inventive and original as the epic poets are. Drama
takes a lower rank than the epos: it presupposes
a coarser and more democratic public.
48.
Wagner does not altogether trust music. He
weaves kindred sensations into it in order to lend
it the character of greatness. He measures himself
on others; he first of all gives his listeners intoxi-
cating drinks in order to lead them into believing
that it was the music that intoxicated them.


## p. 96 (#132) #############################################

96 SELECTED APHORISMS
49.
The same amount of talent and industry which
makes the classic, when it appears some time too
Mate, also makes the baroque artist like Wagner.
5O.
Wagner's art is calculated to appeal to short-
sighted people—one has to get much too close
up to it (Miniature): it also appeals to long-sighted
people, but not to those with normal sight.
Contradictions in the Idea of Musical Drama.
5. I.
Just listen to the second act of the “Gotterdäm-
merung,” without the drama. It is chaotic music, as
wild as a bad dream, and it is as frightfully distinct
as if it desired to make itself clear even to deaf
people. This volubility with nothing to say is
alarming. Compared with it the drama is a genuine
relief–Is the fact that this music when heard
alone, is, as a whole intolerable (apart from a few
intentionally isolated parts) in its favour? Suffice
it to say that this music without its accompanying
drama, is a perpetual contradiction of all the highest
laws of style belonging to older music: he who
thoroughly accustoms himself to it, loses all feeling
for these laws. But has the drama been improved
thanks to this addition? A symbolic interpretation
has been affixed to it, a sort of philological com-
mentary, which sets fetters upon the inner and free
understanding of the imagination—it is tyrannical.


## p. 97 (#133) #############################################

SELECTED APHORISMS 97
Music is the language of the commentator, who talks
the whole of the time and gives us no breathing
space. Moreover his is a difficult language which
also requires to be explained. He who step by
step has mastered, first the libretto (language 1),
then converted it into action in his mind's eye,
then sought out and understood, and became
familiar with the musical symbolism thereto: aye,
and has fallen in love with all three things: such
a man then experiences a great joy. But how
eracting / It is quite impossible to do this save
for a few short moments, such tenfold attention
on the part of one's eyes, ears, understanding, and
feeling, such acute activity in apprehending without
any productive reaction, is far too exhausting ! —
Only the very fewest behave in this way: how is
it then that so many are affected? Because most
people are only intermittingly attentive, and are
inattentive for sometimes whole passages at a
stretch; because they bestow their undivided
attention now upon the music, later upon the
drama, and anon upon the scenery—that is to say
they take the work to pieces. —But in this way the
kind of work we are discussing is condemned: not
the drama but a moment of it is the result, an
arbitrary selection. The creator of a new genre
should consider this The arts should not always
be dished up together, but we should imitate the
moderation of the ancients which is truer to human
nature.
52.
Wagner reminds one of lava which blocks its
own course by congealing, and suddenly finds
7


## p. 98 (#134) #############################################

98 SELECTED APHORISMS
itself checked by dams which it has itself built.
There is no Allegro con fuoco for him.
53.
I compare Wagner's music, which would fain
have the same effect as speech, with that kind of
sculptural relief which would have the same effect
as painting. The highest laws of style are violated,
and that which is most sublime can no longer be
achieved.
54.
The general heaving, undulating and rolling of
Wagner's art.
- 55.
In regard to Wagner's rejection of form, we
are reminded of Goethe's remark in conversation
with Eckermann: “there is no great art in being
brilliant if one respects nothing. ”
56.
Once one theme is over, Wagner is always
embarrassed as to how to continue. Hence the
long preparation, the suspense. His peculiar
craftiness consisted in transvaluing his weakness
into virtues. —
57.
The lack of melody and the poverty of melody
in Wagner. Melody is a whole consisting of many
beautiful proportions, it is the reflection of a well-
ordered soul. He strives after melody; but in he
finds one, he almost suffocates it in his embrace.


## p. 99 (#135) #############################################

SELECTED APHORISMS 99
58.
The natural nobility of a Bach and a Beethoven,
the beautiful soul (even of a Mendelssohn) are
wanting in Wagner. He is one degree lower.
59.
Wagner imitates himself again and again—
mannerisms. That is why he was the quickest
among musicians to be imitated. It is so easy.
6O.
Mendelssohn who lacked the power of radically
staggering one (incidentally this was the talent of
the Jews in the Old Testament), makes up for
this by the things which were his own, that is to
say: freedom within the law, and noble emotions
kept within the limits of beauty.
61.
Liszt, the first representative of all musicians,
but no musician. He was the prince, not the states-
man. The conglomerate of a hundred musicians'
souls, but not enough of a personality to cast
his own shadow upon them.
62.
The most wholesome phenomenon is Brahms,
in whose music there is more German blood than
in that of Wagner's. With these words I would
say something complimentary, but by no means
wholly so,


## p. 100 (#136) ############################################

IOO SELECTED APHORISMS
63.
In Wagner's writings there is no greatness or
peace, but presumption. Why?
64.
Wagner’s Style. —The habit he acquired, from
his earliest days, of having his say in the most
important matters without a sufficient knowledge
of them, has rendered him the obscure and incom-
prehensible writer that he is. In addition to this
he aspired to imitating the witty newspaper
article, and finally acquired that presumption which
readily joins hands with carelessness: “and, behold,
it was very good. ”
65.
I am alarmed at the thought of how much
pleasure I could find in Wagner's style, which is
so careless as to be unworthy of such an artist.
66.
In Wagner, as in Brahms, there is a blind denial
of the healthy, in his followers this denial is
deliberate and conscious.
67.
Wagner's art is for those who are conscious
of an essential blunder in the conduct of their
lives. They feel either that they have checked a
great nature by a base occupation, or squandered
it through idle pursuits, a conventional marriage,
&c. &c.


## p. 101 (#137) ############################################

SELECTED APHORISMS 'IOI
In this quarter the condemnation of the world
is the outcome of the condemnation of the ego.
68.
Wagnerites do not wish to alter themselves in
any way; they live discontentedly in insipid,
conventional and brutal circumstances—only at
intervals does art have to raise them as by magic
above these things. Weakness of will.
69.
Wagner's art is for scholars who do not dare to
become philosophers: they feel discontented with
themselves and are generally in a state of obtuse
stupefaction—from time to time they take a bath
in the opposite conditions.
7O.
I feel as if I had recovered from an illness:
with a feeling of unutterable joy I think of Mozart's
Requiem. I can once more enjoy simple fare.
71.
I understand Sophocles' development through
and through—it was the repugnance to pomp and
pageantry.
72.
I gained an insight into the injustice of idealism,
by noticing that I avenged myself on Wagner for
the disappointed hopes I had cherished of him.
73.
I leave my loftiest duty to the end, and that is
to thank Wagner and Schopenhauer publicly, and


## p. 102 (#138) ############################################

IO2 SELECTED APHORISMS
to make them as it were take sides against
themselves.
74.
I counsel everybody not to fight shy of such
paths (Wagner and Schopenhauer). The wholly
unphilosophic feeling of remorse, has become quite
strange to me.
Wagner's Effects.
75.
We must strive to oppose the false after-effects
of Wagner's art. If he, in order to create Parsifal,
is forced to pump fresh strength from religious
sources, this is not an example but a danger.
76.
I entertain the fear that the effects of Wagner's
art will ultimately pour into that torrent which
takes its rise on the other side of the mountains,
and which knows how to flow even over mountains. ”
* It should be noted that the German Catholic party is
called the Ultramontane Party. The river which can thus
flow over mountains is Catholicism, towards which Nietzsche
thought Wagner's art to be tending. —TR.


## p. 103 (#139) ############################################

WE PHILOLOGISTS
AUTUMN 1874
(Published Posthumously)
TRANSLATED BY J. M. KENNEDY
Author of “THE QUINTEssence of NIETzsche,”
“RELIGIons AND PHILosophies of THE EAST,” &c.
The mussel is crooked inside
and rough outside: it is only
when we hear its deep note after
blowing into it that we can
begin to esteem it at its true
value. —(Ind. Sprüche, ed. Böth-
lingk, i. 335. )
An ugly-looking wind instru-
ment: but we must first blow
into it.


## p. 104 (#140) ############################################



## p. 105 (#141) ############################################

TRANSLATOR'S INTRODUCTION
THE subject of education was one to which Nietz-
sche, especially during his residence in Basel, paid
considerable attention; and his insight into it was
very much deeper than that of, say, Herbert Spencer
or even Johann Friedrich Herbart, the latter of whom
has in late years exercised considerable influence in
scholastic circles. Nietzsche clearly saw that the
“ philologists” (using the word chiefly in reference
to the teachers of the classics in German colleges
and universities) were absolutely unfitted for their
high task, since they were one and all incapable of
entering into the spirit of antiquity. Although at
the first reading, therefore, this book may seem to
be rather fragmentary, there are two main lines of
thought running through it: an incisive criticism of
German professors, and a number of constructive
ideas as to what classical culture really should be.
These scattered aphorisms, indeed, are significant
as showing how far Nietzsche had travelled along
the road over which humanity had been travelling
from remote ages, and how greatly he was imbued
with the pagan spirit which he recognised in Goethe
and valued in Burckhardt. Even at this early period
of his life Nietzsche was convinced that Christianity
was the real danger to culture; and not merely
modern Christianity, but also the Alexandrian cul-
ture, the last gasp of Greek antiquity, which had
105


## p. 106 (#142) ############################################

IO6 TRANSLATOR'S INTRODUCTION
helped to bring Christianity about. When, in the
later aphorisms of “We Philologists,” Nietzsche
appears to be throwing over the Greeks, it should
be remembered that he does not refer to the Greeks
of the era of Homer or AEschylus, or even of Aris-
totle, but to the much later Greeks of the era of
Longinus.
Classical antiquity, however, was conveyed to the
public through university professors and their intel-
lectual offspring; and these professors, influenced
(quite unconsciously, of course) by religious and
“liberal” principles, presented to their scholars a
kind of emasculated antiquity. It was only on these
conditions that the State allowed the pagan teach-
ing to be propagated in the schools; and if, where
classical scholars were concerned, it was more toler-
ant than the Church had been, it must be borne in
mind that the Church had already done all the rough
work of emasculating its enemies, and had handed
down to the State a body of very innocuous and
harmless investigators. A totally erroneous con-
ception of what constituted classical culture was
thus brought about.
Where any distinction was
actually made, for example, later Greek thought
was enormously over-rated, and early Greek thought
equally undervalued. Aphorism 44, together with
the first half-dozen or so in the book, may be taken
as typical specimens of Nietzsche's protest against
this state of things.
It must be added, unfortunately, that Nietzsche's
observations in this book apply as much to England
as to Germany. Classical teachers here may not
be rated so high as they are in Germany; but their


## p. 107 (#143) ############################################

TRANSLATOR'S INTRODUCTION Io/
influence would appear to be equally powerful, and
their theories of education and of classical antiquity
equally chaotic. In England as in Germany they
are “theologians in disguise. ” The danger of modern
“values” to true culture may be readily gathered
from a perusal of aphorisms that follow: and, if these
aphorisms enable even one scholar in a hundred to
enter more thoroughly into the spirit of a great past
they will not have been penned in vain.
J. M. KENNEDY.
LONDON, July, 1911.


## p. 108 (#144) ############################################



## p. 109 (#145) ############################################

I
To what a great extent men are ruled by pure hazard,
and how little reason itself enters into the question,
is sufficiently shown by observing how few people
have any real capacity for their professions and call-
ings, and how many square pegs there are in round
holes: happy and well chosen instances are quite
exceptional, like happy marriages, and even these
latter are not brought about by reason. A man
chooses his calling before he is fitted to exercise his
faculty of choice. He does not know the number of
different callings and professions that exist; he does
not know himself; and then he wastes his years of
activity in this calling, applies all his mind to it, and
becomes experienced and practical. When, after-
wards, his understanding has become fully developed,
it is generally too late to start something new ; for
wisdom on earth has almost always had something
of the weakness of old age and lack of vigour
about it.
For the most part the task is to make good, and
to set to rights as well as possible, that which was
bungled in the beginning. Many will come to recog-
nise that the latter part of their life shows a purpose
or design which has sprung from a primary discord:
it is hard to live through it. Towards the end of his
life, however, the average man has become accus-
tomed to it—then he may make a mistake in regard
Io9


## p. 110 (#146) ############################################

I IO WE PHILOLOGISTS
to the life he has lived, and praise his own stupidity:
bene navigavi cum naufragium fect: he may even
compose a song of thanksgiving to “Providence. ”
2
On inquiring into the origin of the philologist I
find :
I. A young man cannot have the slightest con-
ception of what the Greeks and Romans were.
2. He does not know whether he is fitted to in-
vestigate into them;
3. And, in particular, he does not know to what
extent, in view of the knowledge he may actually
possess, he is fitted to be a teacher. What then
enables him to decide is not the knowledge of him-
self or his science; but
(a) Imitation.
(b) The convenience of carrying on the kind of
work which he had begun at school.
(c) His intention of earning a living.
In short, ninety-nine philologists out of a hundred
should not be philologists at all.
3
The more strict religions require that men shall
look upon their activity simply as one means of
carrying out a metaphysical scheme: an unfortunate
choice of calling may then be explained as a test
of the individual. Religions keep their eyes fixed
only upon the salvation of the individual: whether
he is a slave or a free man, a merchant or a scholar,
his aim in life has nothing to do with his calling, so
that a wrong choice is not such a very great piece


## p. 111 (#147) ############################################

WE PHILOLOGISTS III
of unhappiness. Let this serve as a crumb of com-
fort for philologists in general; but true philologists
stand in need of a better understanding: what
will result from a science which is “gone in for ” by
ninety-nine such people? The thoroughly unfitted
majority draw up the rules of the science in accord-
ance with their own capacities and inclinations; and
in this way they tyrannise over the hundredth, the
only capable one among them. If they have the
training of others in their hands they will train them
consciously or unconsciously after their own image:
what then becomes of the classicism of the Greeks
and Romans?
The points to be proved are:—
(a) The disparity between philologists and the
ancients.
(b) The inability of the philologist to train his
pupils, even with the help of the ancients.
(c) The falsifying of the science by the (incapacity
of the) majority; the wrong requirements held in
view ; the renunciation of the real aim of this
science.
4.
All this affects the sources of our present philo-
logy: a sceptical and melancholy attitude. But
how otherwise are philologists to be produced P
The imitation of antiquity: is not this a principle
which has been refuted by this time?
The flight from actuality to the ancients: does
not this tend to falsify our conception of an-
tiquity?


## p. 112 (#148) ############################################

II 2 WE PHILOLOGISTS
5
We are still behindhand in one type of con-
templation: to understand how the greatest pro-
ductions of the intellect have a dreadful and evil
background: the sceptical type of contemplation.
Greek antiquity is now investigated as the most
beautiful example of life.
As man assumes a sceptical and melancholy
attitude towards his life's calling, so we must scepti-
cally examine the highest life's calling of a nation:
in order that we may understand what life is.
6
My words of consolation apply particularly to the
single tyrannised individual out of a hundred : such
exceptional ones should simply treat all the un-
enlightened majorities as their subordinates; and
they should in the same way take advantage of the
prejudice, which is still widespread, in favour of
classical instruction—they need many helpers. But
they must have a clear perception of what their
actual goal is.
7
Philology as the science of antiquity does not, of
course, endure for ever; its elements are not inex-
haustible. What cannot be exhausted, however, is
the ever-new adaptation of one's age to antiquity;
the comparison of the two. If we make it our task to
understand our own age better by means of antiquity,
then our task will be an everlasting one. —This is the
antinomy of philology: people have always endea-
voured to understand antiquity by means of the


## p. 113 (#149) ############################################

WE PHILOLOGISTS I 13
present—and shall the present now be understood by
means of antiquity? Better: people have explained
antiquity to themselves out of their own experiences;
and from the amount of antiquity thus acquired
they have assessed the value of their experiences.
Experience, therefore, is certainly an essential pre-
requisite for a philologist—that is, the philologist
must first of all be a man; for then only can he be
productive as a philologist. It follows from this that
old men are well suited to be philologists if they were
not such during that portion of their life which was
richest in experiences.
It must be insisted, however,that it is only through
a knowledge of the present that one can acquire an
inclination for the study of classicalantiquity. Where
indeed should the impulse come from if not from this
inclination ? When we observe how few philologists
there actually are, except those that have taken up
philology as a means of livelihood, we can easily de-
cide for ourselves whatis the matter with this impulse
for antiquity: it hardly exists at all, for there are no
disinterested philologists.
Our task then is to secure for philology the uni-
versally educative results which it should bring about.
The means: the limitation of the number of those en-
gaged in the philological profession(doubtful whether
young men should be made acquainted with philo-
logy at all). Criticism of the philologist. The value
of antiquity: it sinks with you : how deeply you
must have sunk, since its value is now so little !


## p. 114 (#150) ############################################

I 14 WE PHILOLOGISTS
8
It is a great advantage for the true philologist that
a great deal of preliminary work has been done in
his science, so that he may take possession of this
inheritance if he is strong enough for it—I refer to
the valuation of the entire Hellenic mode of thinking.
So long as philologists worked simply at details, a
misunderstanding of the Greekswastheconsequence.
The stages of this under-valuation are: the sophists
of the second century, the philologist-poets of the
Renaissance, and the philologist as the teacher of
the higher classes of society (Goethe, Schiller).
Valuing is the most difficult of all.
In what respect is one most fitted for this valuing P
—Not, at all events, when one is trained for philology
as one is now. It should be ascertained to what extent
our present means make this last object impossible.
—Thus the philologist himself is not the aim of
philology.
9
Most men show clearly enough that they do not
regard themselves as individuals: their lives indicate
this. The Christian command that everyone shall
steadfastly keep his eyes fixed upon his salvation,
and his alone, has as its counterpart the general life
of mankind, where every man lives merely as a point
among other points—living not only as the result of
earlier generations, but living also only with an eye
to the future. There are only three forms of exist-
ence in which a man remains an individual : as a
philosopher, as a Saviour, and as an artist. But just
let us consider how a scientific man bungles his life:


## p. 115 (#151) ############################################

WE PHILOLOGISTS II 5
what has the teaching of Greek particles to do with
the sense of life? —Thus we can also observe how
innumerable men merely live, as it were, a prepara-
tion for a man: the philologist, for example, as a
preparation for the philosopher, who in his turn
knows how to utilise his ant-like work to pronounce
some opinion upon the value of life. When such
ant-like work is not carried out under any special
direction the greater part of it is simply nonsense,
and quite superfluous.
IO
Besides the large number of unqualified philolo-
gists there is, on the other hand, a number of what
may be called born philologists, who from some
reason or other are prevented from becoming such.
The greatest obstacle, however, which stands in the
way of these born philologists is the bad represen-
tation of philology by the unqualified philologists.
Leopardi is the modern ideal of a philologist:
The German philologists can do nothing. (As a
proof of this Voss should be studied 1)
II
Let it be considered how differently a science is
propagated from the way in which any special
talent in a family is transmitted. The bodily trans-
mission of an individual science is something very
rare. Do the sons of philologists easily become
philologists? Dubito. Thus there is no such accu-
mulation of philological capacity as there was, let
us say, in Beethoven's family of musical capacity.



## p. 116 (#152) ############################################

I 16 WE PHILOLOGISTS
-
Most philologists begin from the beginning; and
even then they learn from books, and not through
travels, &c. They get some training, of course.
I2
Most men are obviously in the world accidentally:
no necessity of a higher kind is seen in them. They
work at this and that; their talents are average.
How strangel The manner in which they live
shows that they think very little of themselves:
they merely esteem themselves in so far as they
waste their energy on trifles (whether these be mean
or frivolous desires, or the trashy concerns of their
everyday calling). In the so-called life's calling,
which everyone must choose, we may perceive a
touching modesty on the part of mankind. They
practically admit in choosing thus: “We are called
upon to serve and to be of advantage to our equals
—the same remark applies to our neighbour and to
his neighbour; so everyone serves somebody else;
no one is carrying out the duties of his calling for his
own sake, but always for the sake of others: and
thus we are like geese which support one another
by the one leaning against the other. When the aim
of each one of us is centred in another, then we have
all no object in existing; and this “existing for others'
is the most comical of comedies. ”
I3
Vanity is the involuntary inclination to set one's
self up for an individual while not really being one;
that is to say, trying to appear independent when
one is dependent. The case of wisdom is the exact


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WE PHILOLOGISTS 117
contrary: it appears to be dependent while in reality
it is independent.
I4.
The Hades of Homer — From what type of
existence is it really copied ? I think it is the de-
scription of the philologist: it is better to be a day-
labourer than to have such an anaemic recollection of
the past—”
I5
The attitude of the philologist towards antiquity
is apologetic, or else dictated by the view that what
our own age values can likewise be found in anti-
quity. The right attitude to take up, however, is
the reverse one, viz. , to start with an insight into
our modern topsyturviness, and to look back from
antiquity to it—and many things about antiquity
which have hitherto displeased us will then be seen
to have been most profound necessities.
We must make it clear to ourselves that we are
acting in an absurd manner when we try to defend
or to beautify antiquity: who are wel
I6
We are under a false impression when we say
that there is always some caste which governs a
nation's culture, and that therefore savants are
necessary; for savants only possess knowledge con-
cerning culture (and even this only in exceptional
cases). Among learned men themselves there might
be a few, certainly not a caste, but even these would
indeed be rare.
* No doubt a reminiscence of the “Odyssey,” Bk. ix. -TR.


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II. 8 WE PHILOLOGISTS
17
One very great value of antiquity consists in the
fact that its writings are the only ones which modern
men still read carefully.
Overstraining of the memory — very common
among philologists, together with a poor develop-
ment of the judgment.
I8
Busying ourselves with the culture-epochs of the
past: is this gratitude? We should look back-
wards in order to explain to ourselves the present
conditions of culture: we do not become too lauda-
tory in regard to our own circumstances, but perhaps
we should do so in order that we may not be too
severe on ourselves.
I9
He who has no sense for the symbolical has none
for antiquity: let pedantic philologists bear this in
mind.
2O
My aim is to bring about a state of complete
enmity between our present “culture” and antiquity.
Whoever wishes to serve the former must hate the
latter.
2 I
Careful meditation upon the past leads to the
impression that we are a multiplication of many
pasts: so how can we be a final aim P But why
not? In most instances, however, we do not wish
to be this. We take up our positions again in the


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WE PHILOLOGISTS II9
ranks, work in our own little corner, and hope that
what we do may be of some small profit to our
successors. But that is exactly the case of the cask
of the Danae: and this is useless, we must again set
about doing everything for ourselves, and only for
ourselves — measuring science by ourselves, for
example with the question: What is science to us?
not: what are we to science? People really make
life too easy for themselves when they look upon
themselves from such a simple historical point of
view, and make humble servants of themselves.
“Your own salvation above everything”—that is
what you should say; and there are no institutions
which you should prize more highly than your own
soul. —Now, however, man learns to know himself:
he finds himself miserable, despises himself, and is
pleased to find something worthy of respect outside
himself. Therefore he gets rid of himself, so to
speak, makes himself subservient to a cause, does
his duty strictly, and atones for his existence. He
knows that he does not work for himself alone; he
wishes to help those who are daring enough to
exist on account of themselves, like Socrates. The
majority of men are as it were suspended in the air
like toy balloons; every breath of wind moves
them. —As a consequence the savant must be such
out of self-knowledge, that is to say, out of contempt
for himself—in other words he must recognise him-
self to be merely the servant of some higher being
who comes after him. Otherwise he is simply a
sheep.


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I2O WE PHILOLOGISTS
22
It is the duty of the free man to live for his own
sake, and not for others. It was on this account
that the Greeks looked upon handicrafts as unseemly.
As a complete entity Greek antiquity has not yet
been fully valued: I am convinced that if it had not
been surrounded by its traditional glorification, the
men of the present day would shrink from it horror
stricken. This glorification, then, is spurious; gold-
paper.
23
The false enthusiasm for antiquity in which many
philologists live. When antiquity suddenly comes
upon us in our youth, it appears to us to be com-
posed of innumerable trivialities; in particular we
believe ourselves to be above its ethics. And Homer
and Walter Scott—who carries off the palm ? Let
us be honest ! If this enthusiasm were really felt,
people could scarcely seek their life's calling in it.
I mean that what we can obtain from the Greeks
only begins to dawn upon us in later years: only
after we have undergone many experiences, and
thought a great deal.
24
People in general think that philology is at an
end—while I believe that it has not yet begun.
The greatest events in philology are the appear-
ance of Goethe, Schopenhauer, and Wagner; stand-
ing on their shoulders we look far into the distance.
The fifth and sixth centuries have still to be dis-
covered.
i


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WE PHILOLOGISTS I2 I
25
Where do we see the effect of antiquity? Not
in language, not in the imitation of something or
other, and not in perversity and waywardness, to
which uses the French have turned it. Our museums
are gradually becoming filled up: I always experi-
ence a sensation of disgust when I see naked statues
in the Greek style in the presence of this thought-
less philistinism which would fain devour everything.


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PLANS AND THOUGHTS RELATING TO
A WORK ON PHILOLOGY
(1875)
26
OF all sciences philology at present is the most
favoured: its progress having been furthered for
centuries by the greatest number of scholars in
every nation who have had charge of the noblest
pupils. Philology has thus had one of the best of
all opportunities to be propagated from generation
to generation, and to make itself respected. How
has it acquired this power?
Calculations of the different prejudices in its
favour.
How then if these were to be frankly recognised
as prejudices? Would not philology be superfluous
if we reckoned up the interests of a position in life
or the earning of a livelihood? What if the truth
were told about antiquity, and its qualifications for
training people to live in the present?
In order that the questions set forth above may be
answered let us consider the training of the philo-
logist, his genesis: he no longer comes into being
where these interests are lacking.
If the world in general came to know what an
unseasonable thing for us antiquity really is, philo-
122


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WE PHILOLOGISTS I23
logists would no longer be called in as the educators
of our youth.
Effect of antiquity on the non-philologist likewise
nothing. If they showed themselves to be imperative
and contradictory, oh, with what hatred would they
be pursued But they always humble themselves.
Philology now derives its power only from the
union between the philologists who will not, or
cannot, understand antiquity and public opinion,
which is misled by prejudices in regard to it.
The real Greeks, and their “watering down”
through the philologists.
The future commanding philologist sceptical in
regard to our entire culture, and therefore also the
destroyer of philology as a profession.
THE PREFERENCE FOR ANTIQUITY
27
If a man approves of the investigation of the past
he will also approve and even praise the fact—and
will above all easily understand it—that there are
scholars who are exclusively occupied with the
investigation of Greek and Roman antiquity: but
that these scholars are at the same time the teachers
of the children of the nobility and gentry is not
equally easy of comprehension—here lies a problem.
Why philologists precisely? This is not altogether
such a matter of course as the case of a professor of
medicine, who is also a practical physician and
surgeon. For, if the cases were identical, preoccu-
pation with Greek and Roman antiquity would be


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I24 WE PHILOLOGISTS
identical with the “science of education. ” In short,
the relationship between theory and practice in the
philologist cannot be so quickly conceived. Whence
comes his pretension to be a teacher in the higher
sense, not only of all scientific men, but more
especially of all cultured men? This educational
power must be taken by the philologist from anti-
quity; and in such a case people will ask with
astonishment: how does it come that we attach
such value to a far-off past that we can only become
cultured men with the aid of its knowledge?
These questions, however, are not asked as a rule:
The sway of philology over our means of instruction
remains practically unquestioned; and antiquity
has the importance assigned to it. To this extent
the position of the philologist is more favourable
than that of any other follower of science. True,
he has not at his disposal that great mass of men
who stand in need of him—the doctor, for example,
has far more than the philologist. But he can in-
fluence picked men, or youths, to be more accurate,
at a time when all their mental faculties are begin-
ning to blossom forth—people who can afford to
devote both time and money to their higher develop-
ment. In all those places where European culture
has found its way, people have accepted secondary
schools based upon a foundation of Latin and
Greek as the first and highest means of instruction.
In this way philology has found its best opportunity
of transmitting itself, and commanding respect: no
other science has been so well favoured. As a
general rule all those who have passed through such
institutions have afterwards borne testimony to the


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WE PHILOLOGISTS 125
excellence of their organisation and curriculum, and
such people are, of course, unconscious witnesses in
favour of philology. If any who have not passed
through these institutions should happen to utter a
word in disparagement of this education, an unani-
mous and yet calm repudiation of the statement at
once follows, as if classical education were a kind of
witchcraft, blessing its followers, and demonstrating
itself to them by this blessing. There is no attempt
at polemics: “We have been through it all. ” “We
know it has done us good. ”
Now there are so many things to which men have
become so accustomed that they look upon them as
quite appropriate and suitable, for habit intermixes
all things with sweetness; and men as a rule judge
the value of a thing in accordance with their own
desires. The desire for classical antiquity as it is
now felt should be tested, and, as it were, taken to
pieces and analysed with a view to seeing how much
of this desire is due to habit, and how much to mere
love of adventure—I refer to that inward and active
desire, new and strange, which gives rise to a pro-
ductive conviction from day to day, the desire for a
higher goal, and also the means thereto; as the
result of which people advance step by step from
one unfamiliar thing to "another, like an Alpine
climber.
What is the foundation on which the high value
attached to antiquity at the present time is based,
to such an extent indeed that our whole modern
culture is founded on it? Where must we look for
the origin of this delight in antiquity, and the pre-
ference shown for it?



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J26 WE PHILOLOGISTS
I think I have recognised in my examination of
the question that all our philology—that is, all its
present existence and power—is based on the same
foundation as that on which our view of antiquity
as the most important of all means of training is
based. Philology as a means of instruction is the
clear expression of a predominating conception
regarding the value of antiquity, and the best
methods of education. Two propositions are con-
tained in this statement: In the first place all higher
education must be a historical one; and secondly,
Greek and Roman history differs from all others in
that it is classical. Thus the scholar who knows
this history becomes a teacher. We are not here
going into the question as to whether higher educa-
tion ought to be historical or not; but we may
examine the second and ask: in how far is it
classic?
On this point there are many widespread pre-
judices. In the first place there is the prejudice
expressed in the synonymous concept, “The study
of the humanities”: antiquity is classic because it
is the school of the humane.
Secondly: “Antiquity is classic because it is
enlightened— —”
28
It is the task of all education to change certain
conscious actions and habits into more or less
unconscious ones; and the history of mankind is
in this sense its education. The philologist now
practises unconsciously a number of such occupa-
tions and habits. It is my object to ascertain how


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WE PHILOLOGISTS 127
2.