—We forget
our pretensions when we are always conscious of
being amongst meritorious people; being alone
implants presumption in us.
our pretensions when we are always conscious of
being amongst meritorious people; being alone
implants presumption in us.
Nietzsche - v06 - Human All-Too-Human - a
The painter requires that the spectator
should not observe too closely or too sharply, he
forces him back to a certain distance from whence
J- ^
## p. 257 (#377) ############################################
SIGNS OF HIGHER AND LOWER CULTURE. 257
to make his observations; he is obliged to take
for granted a fixed distance of the spectator from
the picture,—he must even suppose an equally
certain amount of sharpness of eye in his
spectator; in such things he must on no account
waver. Every one, therefore, who desires to
idealise his life must not look at it too closely,
i and must always keep his gaze at a certain
distance. This was a trick that Goethe, for
instance, understood.
280.
Aggravation as Relief, and Vice Versa.
—Much that makes life more difficult in certain
grades of mankind serves to lighten it in a higher
grade, because such people have become familiar
with greater aggravations of life. The contrary
also happens; for instance, religion has a double
face, according to whether a man looks up to it
to relieve him of his burden and need, or looks
down upon it as upon fetters laid on him to
prevent him from soaring too high into the air.
281.
The Higher Culture is Necessarily
Misunderstood. —He who has strung his instru-
ment with only two strings, like the scholars
(who, besides the instinct of knowledge possess
only an acquired religious instinct), does not under-
stand people who can play upon more strings.
It lies in the nature of the higher, many-stringed
culture that it should always be falsely interpreted
by the lower; an example of this is when art
vol. 1. R
## p. 258 (#378) ############################################
i
258 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
appears as a disguised form of the religious.
People who are only religious understand even
science as a searching after the religious senti-
ment, just as deaf mutes do not know what music
is, unless it be visible movement.
282.
Lamentation. —It is, perhaps, the advantages
of our epoch that bring with them a backward
movement and an occasional undervaluing of the
vita contemplativa. But it must be acknowledged
that our time is poor in the matter of great
moralists, that Pascal, Epictetus, Seneca, and
Plutarch are now but little read, that work and
industry—formerly in the following of the great
goddess Health—sometimes appear to rage like
a disease. Because time to think and tranquillity
in thought are lacking, we no longer ponder over
different views, but content ourselves with hating
them. With the enormous acceleration of life,
mind and eye grow accustomed to a partial and
false sight and judgment, and all people are like
travellers whose only acquaintance with countries
and nations is derived from the railway. An
independent and cautious attitude of knowledge
is looked upon almost as a kind of madness; the
free spirit is brought into disrepute, chiefly
through scholars, who miss their thoroughness
and ant-like industry in his art of regarding things
and would gladly banish him into one single corner
of science, while it has the different and higher
mission of commanding the battalion rear-guard
of scientific and learned men from an isolated
## p. 259 (#379) ############################################
SIGNS OF HIGHER AND LOWER CULTURE. 259
position, and showing them the ways and aims
of culture. A song of lamentation such as that
which has just been sung will probably have its
own period, and will cease of its own accord on a
forcible return of the genius of meditation.
283.
The Chief Deficiency of Active People. —
Active people are usually deficient in the higher
activity, I mean individual activity. They are
active as officials, merchants, scholars, that is as
a species, but not as quite distinct separate and
single individuals; in this respect they are idle.
. It is the misfortune of the active that their activity
is almost always a little senseless. For instance,
we must not ask the money-making banker the
reason of his restless activity, it is foolish. The
active roll as the stone rolls, according to the
stupidity of mechanics. All mankind is divided,
as it was at all times and is still, into slaves and
freemen; for whoever has not two-thirds of his
day for himself is a slave, be he otherwise what-
ever he likes, statesman, merchant, official, or
scholar.
284.
In Favour of the Idle. —As a sign that
the value of a contemplative life has decreased,
scholars now vie with active people in a sort of
hurried enjoyment, so that they appear to value
this mode of enjoying more than that which
really pertains to them, and which, as a matter of
fact, is a far greater enjoyment. Scholars are
## p. 260 (#380) ############################################
2<5o HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
ashamed of otium. But there is one noble thing
about idleness and idlers. If idleness is really the
beginning of all vice, it finds itself, therefore, at least
in near neighbourhood of all the virtues; the idle
man is still a better man than the active. You
do not suppose that in speaking of idleness and
idlers I am alluding to you, you sluggards?
285.
Modern Unrest. —Modern restlessness in-
creases towards the west, so that Americans look
upon the inhabitants of Europe as altogether
peace-loving and enjoying beings, whilst in reality
they swarm about like wasps and bees. This
restlessness is so great that the higher culture
cannot mature its fruits, it is as if the seasons
followed each other too quickly. For lack of rest
our civilisation is turning into a new barbarism.
At no period have the active, that is, the restless,
been of more importance. One of the necessary
corrections, therefore, which must be undertaken in
the character of humanity is to strengthen the
contemplative element on a large scale. But every
individual who is quiet and steady in heart and
head already has the right to believe that he
possesses not only a good temperament, but also
a generally useful virtue, and even fulfils a higher
mission by the preservation of this virtue.
286.
To what Extent the Active Man is
Lazy. —I believe that every one must ha^e his
## p. 261 (#381) ############################################
SIGNS OF HIGHER AND LOWER CULTURE. 2D,<55
own opinion about everything concerning which \
opinions are possible, because he himself is a
peculiar, unique thing, which assumes towards all
other things a new and never hitherto existing
attitude. But idleness, which lies at the bottom
of the active man's soul, prevents him from draw-
ing water out of his own well. Freedom of
opinion is like health; both are individual, and no
good general conception can be set up of either of
them. That which is necessary for the health of
one individual is the cause of disease in another,
and many means and ways to the freedom of the
spirit are for more highly developed natures the
ways and means to confinement.
287.
Censor Vit/£. —Alternations of love and hatred
for a long period distinguish the inward condition
of a man who desires to be free in his judgment
of life; he does not forget, and bears everything a
grudge, for good and evil. At last, when the
whole tablet of his soul is written full of experi-
ences, he will not hate and despise existence,
neither will he love it, but will regard it sometimes
with a joyful, sometimes with a sorrowful eye, and,
like nature, will be now in a summer and now in
an autumn mood.
288.
The Secondary Result. —Whoever earnestly
desires to be free will therewith and without any
compulsion lose all inclination for faults and vices;
he will also be more rarely overcome by anger and
\
## p. 262 (#382) ############################################
2$>2 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
I
vexation. His will desires nothing more urgently
than to discern, and the means to do this,—that is,
the permanent condition in which he is best able
to discern. '
289.
The Value of Disease. —The man who is
bed-ridden often perceives that he is usually ill of
his position, business, or society, and through them
has lost all self-possession. He gains this piece
of knowledge from the idleness to which his illness
condemns him.
290.
Sensitiveness in the Country. —If there
are no firm, quiet lines on the horizon of his life, a
species of mountain and forest line, man's inmost
will itself becomes restless, inattentive, and covetous,
as is the nature of a dweller in towns; he has no
happiness and confers no happiness.
291.
Prudence of the Free Spirits. —Free-
thinkers, those who live by knowledge alone, will
soon attain the supreme aim of their life and their
ultimate position towards society and State, and
will gladly content themselves, for instance, with a
small post or an income that is just sufficient to
enable them to live; for they will arrange to live
in such a manner that a great change of outward
prosperity, even an overthrow of the political order,
would not cause an overthrow of their life. To
all these things they devote as little energy as
## p. 263 (#383) ############################################
SIGNS OF HIGHER AND LOWER CULTURE. 2*65
V
\
possible in order that with their whole accumu- \
lated strength, and with a long breath, they may
dive into the element of knowledge. Thus they
can hope to dive deep and be able to see the
bottom. Such a spirit seizes only the point of
an event, he does not care for things in the whole
breadth and prolixity of their folds, for he does not
wish to entangle himself in them. He, too, knows
the weekdays of restraint, of dependence and
servitude. But from time to time there must
dawn for him a Sunday of liberty, otherwise he
could not endure life. It is probable that even his
love for humanity will be prudent and somewhat
short-winded, for he desires to meddle with the
world of inclinations and of blindness only as far
as is necessary for the purpose of knowledge. He
must trust that the genius of justice will say some-
thing for its disciple and protegd if accusing voices
were to call him poor in love. In his mode of life
and thought there is a refined heroism, which
scorns to offer itself to the great mob-reverence, as
its coarser brother does, and passes quietly through
and out of the world. Whatever labyrinths it
traverses, beneath whatever rocks its stream has
occasionally worked its way—when it reaches the
light it goes clearly, easily, and almost noiselessly
on its way, and lets the sunshine strike down to
its very bottom.
292.
Forward. —And thus forward upon the path
of wisdom, with a firm step and good confidence!
However you may be situated, serve yourself as a
## p. 264 (#384) ############################################
2£>4 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
source of experience! Throw off the displeasure
at your nature, forgive yourself your own individu-
ality, for in any case you have in yourself a ladder
with a hundred steps upon which you can mount to
knowledge. The age into which with grief you feel
yourself thrown thinks you happy because of this
good fortune; it calls out to you that you shall
still have experiences which men of later ages will
perhaps be obliged to forego. Do not despise
the fact of having been religious; consider fully
how you have had a genuine access to art. Can
you not, with the help of these experiences, follow
immense stretches of former humanity with a
clearer understanding? Is not that ground which
sometimes displeases you so greatly, that ground
of clouded thought, precisely the one upon which
have grown many of the most glorious fruits of
older civilisations? You must have loved religion
and art as you loved mother and nurse,—other-
wise you cannot be wise. But you must be able
to see beyond them, to outgrow them; if you
remain under their ban you do not understand
them. You must also be familiar with history and
that cautious play with the balances: "On the
one hand—on the other hand. " Go back, tread-
ing in the footsteps made by mankind in its great
and painful journey through the desert of the past,
and you will learn most surely whither it is that
all later humanity never can or may go again.
And inasmuch as you wish with all your strength
to see in advance how the knots of the future are
tied, your own life acquires the value of an instru-
ment and means of knowledge. It is within your
## p. 265 (#385) ############################################
SIGNS OF HIGHER AND LOWER CULTURE. ^65
\
power to see that all you have experienced, trials,
errors, faults, deceptions, passions, your love and
your hope, shall be merged wholly in your aim.
This aim is to become a necessary chain of culture-
links yourself, and from this necessity to draw a
conclusion as to the necessity in the progress of
general culture. When your sight has become
strong enough to see to the bottom of the dark
well of your nature and your knowledge, it is
possible that in its mirror you may also behold
the far-away visions of future civilisations. Do
you think that such a life with such an aim is too
wearisome, too empty of all that is agreeable?
Then you have still to learn that no honey is
sweeter than that of knowledge, and that the
overhanging clouds of trouble must be to you as
an udder from which you shall draw milk for your
refreshment. And only when old age approaches
will you rightly perceive how you listened to the
voice of nature, that nature which rules the whole
world through pleasure; the same life which has
its zenith in age has also its zenith in wisdom, in
that mild sunshine of a constant mental joyful-
ness; you meet them both, old age and wisdom,
upon one ridge of life,—it was thus intended by
Nature. Then it is time, and no cause for anger,
that the mists of death approach. Towards the
light is your last movement; a joyful cry of
knowledge is your last sound.
## p. 266 (#386) ############################################
|
A 1
## p. 267 (#387) ############################################
s-
SIXTH DIVISION.
MAN IN SOCIETY.
293-
Well-Meant Dissimulation. —In intercourse
with men a well-meant dissimulation is often
necessary, as if we did not see through the motives
of their actions.
294.
Copies. —We not unfrequently meet with copies
of prominent persons; and as in the case of
pictures, so also here, the copies please more than
the originals.
295.
The Public Speaker. —One may speak with
the greatest appropriateness, and yet so that every-
body cries out to the contrary,—that is to say,
when one does not speak to everybody.
296.
Want of Confidence. —Want of confidence
among friends is a fault that cannot be censured
without becoming incurable.
## p. 268 (#388) ############################################
268
HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
297.
The Art of Giving. —To have to refuse a
gift, merely because it has not been offered in the
right way, provokes animosity against the giver.
298.
The most Dangerous Partisan. —In every
party there is one who, by his far too dogmatic
expression of the party-principles, excites defec-
tion among the others.
299.
Advisers of the Sick. — Whoever gives
advice to a sick person acquires a feeling of
superiority over him, whether the advice be ac-
cepted or rejected. Hence proud and sensitive sick
persons hate advisers more than their sickness.
300.
Double Nature of Equality. —The rage
for equality may so manifest itself that we seek
either to draw all others down to ourselves (by
belittling, disregarding, and tripping up), or our-
selves and all others upwards (by recognition,
assistance, and congratulation).
301.
Against Embarrassment. —The best way
to relieve and calm very embarrassed people is to
give them decided praise.
V
## p. 269 (#389) ############################################
MAN IN SOCIETY. X7I
\ .
\
\
302.
Preference for Certain Virtues. —We
set no special value on the possession of a virtue
until we perceive that it is entirely lacking in our
adversary.
303-
Why we Contradict. —We often contradict
an opinion when it is really only the tone in
which it is expressed that is unsympathetic to us.
304-
/ Confidence and Intimacy. —Whoever pro-
poses to command the intimacy of a person is
usually uncertain of possessing his confidence.
Whoever is sure of a person's confidence attaches
little value to intimacy with him. i
305.
The Equilibrium of Friendship. — The
right equilibrium of friendship in our relation to
other men is sometimes restored when we put a
few grains of wrong on our own side of the scales.
306.
The most Dangerous Physicians. —The
most dangerous physicians are those who, like born
actors, imitate the born physician with the perfect
art of imposture.
## p. 270 (#390) ############################################
2(,9 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
307.
When Paradoxes are Permissible. —In
order to interest clever persons in a theory, it is
sometimes only necessary to put it before them
in the form of a prodigious paradox.
308.
How Courageous People are Won Over.
—Courageous people are persuaded to a course of
action by representing it as more dangerous than
it really is.
309.
Courtesies. —We regard the courtesies shown
us by unpopular persons as offences.
310.
Keeping People Waiting. —A sure way of
exasperating people and of putting bad thoughts
into their heads is to keep them waiting long.
That makes them immoral.
3ii-
Against the Confidential. —Persons who
give us their full confidence think they have
thereby a right to ours. That is a mistake;
people acquire no rights through gifts.
312.
A Mode of Settlement. —It often suffices
to give a person whom we have injured an
opportunity to make a joke about us to give him
## p. 271 (#391) ############################################
MAN IN SOCIETY. 271
personal satisfaction, and even to make him favour-
ably disposed to us.
313-
The Vanity of the Tongue. —Whether man
conceals his bad qualities and vices, or frankly
acknowledges them, his vanity in either case seeks
its advantage thereby,—only let it be observed_/
how nicely he distinguishes those from whom he
conceals such qualities from those with whom he
is frank and honest.
314-
Considerate. —To have no wish to offend or
injure any one may as well be the sign of a just
as of a timid nature.
315-
Requisite for Disputation. —He who can-
not put his thoughts on ice should not enter into
the heat of dispute.
316.
Intercourse and Pretension.
—We forget
our pretensions when we are always conscious of
being amongst meritorious people; being alone
implants presumption in us. The young are
pretentious, for they associate with their equals,
who are all ciphers but would fain have a great
significance.
317-
Motives of an Attack. —One does not attack J
a person merely to hurt and conquer him, but
perhaps merely to become conscious of one's own
strength.
## p. 272 (#392) ############################################
272 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
3*i 8.
Flattery. —Persons who try by means of
flattery to put us off our guard in intercourse
with them, employ a dangerous expedient, like
a sleeping-draught, which, when it does not send
the patient to sleep, keeps him all the wider
awake.
319-
A Good Letter-Writer. —A person who
does not write books, thinks much, and lives in
unsatisfying society, will usually be a good letter-
writer.
320.
The Ugliest of All. —It may be doubted
whether a person who has travelled much has
found anywhere in the world uglier places than
those to be met with in the human face.
321.
The Sympathetic Ones. — Sympathetic
natures, ever ready to help in misfortune, are
seldom those that participate in joy; in the
happiness of others they have nothing to occupy
them, they are superfluous, they do not feel them-
selves in possession of their superiority, and hence
readily show their displeasure.
322.
The Relatives of a Suicide. —The relatives
of a suicide take it in ill part that he did not
remain alive out of consideration for their reputation.
## p. 273 (#393) ############################################
MAN IN SOCIETY. 273
323.
Ingratitude Foreseen. —He who makes a
large gift gets no gratitude; for the recipient is
already overburdened by the acceptance of the gift.
324-
In Dull Society. —Nobody thanks a witty
man for politeness when he puts himself on a par
with a society in which it would not be polite to
show one's wit.
325-
The Presence of Witnesses. — We are
doubly willing to jump into the water after some
one who has fallen in, if there are people present
who have not the courage to do so.
326.
Being Silent. —For both parties in a con-
troversy, the most disagreeable way of retaliating
is to be vexed and silent; for the aggressor
usually regards the silence as a sign of contempt.
327-
Friends' Secrets. —Few people will not
expose the private affairs of their friends when
at a loss for a subject of conversation.
328.
Humanity. —The humanity of intellectual
celebrities consists in courteously submitting to
vol. 1. S
## p. 274 (#394) ############################################
274 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
unfairness in intercourse with those who are
not celebrated.
329-
The Embarrassed. —People who do not feel
sure of themselves in society seize every oppor-
tunity of publicly showing their superiority to
close friends, for instance by teasing them.
330.
THANKS. —A refined nature is vexed by know-
ing that some one owes it thanks, a coarse nature
by knowing that it owes thanks to some one.
331-
A Sign of Estrangement. —The surest sign
of the estrangement of the opinions of two persons
is when they both say something ironical to each
other and neither of them feels the irony.
332.
Presumption in Connection with Merit.
—Presumption in connection with merit offends
us even more than presumption in persons devoid
of merit, for merit in itself offends us.
333-
Danger in the Voice. —In conversation we
are sometimes confused by the tone of our own
voice, and misled to make assertions that do not
at all correspond to our opinions.
## p. 275 (#395) ############################################
MAN IN SOCIETY. 275
334-
In Conversation. —Whether in conversation
with others we mostly agree or mostly disagree
with them is a matter of habit; there is sense in
both cases.
335-
Fear of Our Neighbour. —We are afraid of
the animosity of our neighbour, because we are
apprehensive that he may thereby discover our
secrets.
336.
Distinguishing by Blaming. —Highly re-
spected persons distribute even their blame in
such fashion that they try to distinguish us there-
with. It is intended to remind us of their serious
interest in us. We misunderstand them entirely
when we take their blame literally and protest
against it; we thereby offend them and estrange
ourselves from them.
337-
Indignation at the Goodwill of Others.
—We are mistaken as to the extent to which we
think we are hated or feared; because, though
we ourselves know very well the extent of our
divergence from a person, tendency, or party, those
others know us only superficially, and can, there-
fore, only hate us superficially. We often meet
with goodwill which is inexplicable to us; but
when we comprehend it, it shocks us, because it
shows that we are not considered with sufficient
seriousness or importance.
## p. 276 (#396) ############################################
276 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
338.
Thwarting Vanities. —When two persons
meet whose vanity is equally great, they have
afterwards a bad impression of each other;
because each has been so occupied with the
impression he wished to produce on the other
that the other has made no impression upon him;
at last it becomes clear to them both that their
efforts have been in vain, and each puts the blame
on the other.
339-
Improper Behaviour as a Good Sign. —A
superior mind takes pleasure in the tactlessness,
pretentiousness, and even hostility of ambitious
youths; it is the vicious habit of fiery horses
which have not yet carried a rider, but, in a short
time, will be so proud to carry one. . t»»
340.
When it is Advisable to Suffer Wrong.
—It is well to put up with accusations without
refutation, even when they injure us, when the
accuser would see a still greater fault on our part
if we contradicted and perhaps even refuted him.
In this way, certainly, a person may always be
wronged and always have right on his side, and
may eventually, with the best conscience in the
world, become the most intolerable tyrant and
tormentor; and what happens in the individual
may also take place in whole classes of society.
## p. 277 (#397) ############################################
MAN IN SOCIETY. 277
341-
Too Little Honoured. —Very conceited
persons, who have received less consideration than
they expected, attempt for a long time to
deceive themselves and others with regard to it,
and become subtle psychologists in order to make
out that they have been amply honoured. Should
they not attain their aim, should the veil of
deception be torn, they give way to all the greater
fury.
342.
Primitive* Conditions Re - echoing in
Speech. —By the manner in which people make
assertions in their intercourse we often recognise
an echo of the times when they were more con-
versant with weapons than anything else; some-
times they handle their assertions like sharp-
shooters using their arms, sometimes we think we
hear the whizz and clash of swords, and with
some men an assertion crashes down like a stout
cudgel. Women, on the contrary, speak like
beings who for thousands of years have sat at the
loom, plied the needle, or played the child with
children.
343-
The Narrator. —He who gives an account
of something readily betrays whether it is because
the fact interests him, or because he wishes to
excite interest by the narration. In the latter
case he will exaggerate, employ superlatives, and
such like. He then does not usually tell his story
## p. 278 (#398) ############################################
278 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
so well, because he does not think so much about
his subject as about himself.
344-
The RECITER. —He who recites dramatic
works makes discoveries about his own character;
he finds his voice more natural in certain moods
and scenes than in others, say in the pathetic or
in the scurrilous, while in ordinary life, perhaps,
he has not had the opportunity to exhibit pathos
or scurrility.
345-
A Comedy Scene in Real Life. —Some one
conceives an ingenious idea on a theme in order
to express it in society. Now in a comedy we
should hear and see how he sets all sail for that
point, and tries to land the company at the place
where he can make his remark, how he con-
tinuously pushes the conversation towards the one
goal, sometimes losing the way, finding it again,
and finally arriving at the moment: he is almost
breathless—and then one of the company takes
the remark itself out of his mouth! What will
he do? Oppose his own opinion?
346.
Unintentionally Discourteous. — When
a person treats another with unintentional dis-
courtesy,—for instance, not greeting him because
not recognising him,—he is vexed by it, although
he cannot reproach his own sentiments; he is
hurt by the bad opinion which he has produced
## p. 279 (#399) ############################################
MAN IN SOCIETY. 279
in the other person, or fears the consequences of
his bad humour, or is pained by the thought of
having injured him,—vanity, fear, or pity may
therefore be aroused; perhaps all three together.
347-
A Masterpiece of Treachery. —To express
a tantalising distrust of a fellow-conspirator, lest
he should betray one, and this at the very moment
when one is practising treachery one's self, is a
masterpiece of wickedness; because it absorbs the
other's attention and compels him for a time to act
very unsuspiciously and openly, so that the real
traitor has thus acquired a free hand.
348.
To Injure and to be Injured. —It is far
pleasanter to injure and afterwards beg for forgive-
ness than to be injured and grant forgiveness.
He who does the former gives evidence of power
and afterwards of kindness of character. The
person injured, however, if he does not wish to be
considered inhuman, must forgive; his enjoyment
of the other's humiliation is insignificant on
account of this constraint.
349-
IN A Dispute. —When we contradict another's
opinion and at the same time develop our own,
the constant consideration of the other opinion
usually disturbs the natural attitude of our own,
## p. 280 (#400) ############################################
280 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
which appears more intentional, more distinct, and
perhaps somewhat exaggerated.
350.
An Artifice. —He who wants to get another
to do something difficult must on no account
treat the matter as a problem, but must set forth
his plan plainly as the only one possible; and
when the adversary's eye betrays objection and
opposition he must understand how to break off
quickly, and allow him no time to put in a word.
3Si-
Pricks of Conscience after Social
Gatherings. —Why does our conscience prick
us after ordinary social gatherings? Because we
have treated serious things lightly, because in
talking of persons we have not spoken quite justly
or have been silent when we should have spoken,
because, sometimes, we have not jumped up and
run away,—in short, because we have behaved in
society as if we belonged to it.
352.
We are Misjudged. —He who always listens
to hear how he is judged is always vexed. For
we are misjudged even by those who are nearest
to us (" who know us best"). Even good friends
sometimes vent their ill-humour in a spiteful
word; and would they be our friends if they knew
us rightly? The judgments of the indifferent
## p. 281 (#401) ############################################
MAN IN SOCIETY. 281
wound us deeply, because they sound so impartial,
so objective almost. But when we see that
some one hostile to us knows us in a concealed
point as well as we know ourselves, how great is
then our vexation!
353-
The Tyranny of the Portrait. —Artists
and statesmen, who out of particular features
quickly construct the whole picture of a man or
an event, are mostly unjust in demanding that
the event or person should afterwards be actually
as they have painted it; they demand straightway
that a man should be just as gifted, cunning, and
unjust as he is in their representation of him.
354-
Relatives as the Best Friends. —The
Greeks, who knew so well what a friend was,
they alone of all peoples have a profound and
largely philosophical discussion of friendship; so
that it is by them firstly (and as yet lastly) that
the problem of the friend has been recognised
as worthy of solution,—these same Greeks have
designated relatives by an expression which is
the superlative of the word "friend. " This is
inexplicable to me.
355-
Misunderstood Honesty. —When any one
quotes himself in conversation (" I then said," " I
am accustomed to say"), it gives the impression
of presumption; whereas it often proceeds from
## p. 282 (#402) ############################################
282 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
quite an opposite source ; or at least from honesty,
which does not wish to deck and adorn the
present moment with wit which belongs to an
earlier moment.
356.
The Parasite. —It denotes entire absence of
a noble disposition when a person prefers to live
in dependence at the expense of others, usually
with a secret bitterness against them, in order only
that he may not be obliged to work. Such a
disposition is far more frequent in women than
in men, also far more pardonable (for historical
reasons).
357-
On the Altar of Reconciliation. —There
are circumstances under which one can only gain
a point from a person by wounding him and
becoming hostile; the feeling of having a foe
torments him so much that he gladly seizes the
first indication of a milder disposition to effect
a reconciliation, and offers on the altar of this
reconciliation what was formerly of such im-
portance to him that he would not give it up
at any price.
358.
Presumption in Demanding Pity. —There
are people who, when they have been in a rage
and have insulted others, demand, firstly, that
it shall all be taken in good part; and, secondly,
that they shall be pitied because they are subject
to such violent paroxysms. So far does human
presumption extend.
## p. 283 (#403) ############################################
MAN IN SOCIETY. 283
359-
BAIT. —" Every man has his price "—that is
not true. But perhaps every one can be found
a bait of one kind or other at which he will
snap. Thus, in order to gain some supporters
for a cause, it is only necessary to give it the
glamour of being philanthropic, noble, charitable,
and self-denying—and to what cause could this
glamour not be given! It is the sweetmeat and
dainty of their soul; others have different ones.
360.
The Attitude in Praising. —When good
friends praise a gifted person he often appears
to be delighted with them out of politeness and
goodwill, but in reality he feels indifferent.
His real nature is quite unmoved towards them,
and will not budge a step on that account out
of the sun or shade in which it lies; but people
wish to please by praise, and it would grieve
them if one did not rejoice when they praise
a person.
361.
The Experience of Socrates. —If one has
become a master in one thing, one has generally
remained, precisely thereby, a complete dunce
in most other things; but one forms the very
reverse opinion, as was already experienced by
Socrates. This is the annoyance which makes
association with masters disagreeable.
## p. 284 (#404) ############################################
284 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
362.
A Means of Defence. —In warring against
stupidity, the most just and gentle of men at
last become brutal. They are thereby, perhaps,
taking the proper course for defence; for the
most appropriate argument for a stupid brain
is the clenched fist. But because, as has been
said, their character is just and gentle, they suffer
more by this means of protection than they injure
their opponents by it.
363-
CURIOSITY. —If curiosity did not exist, very
little would be done for the good of our
neighbour. But curiosity creeps into the houses
of the unfortunate and the needy under the
name of duty or of pity. Perhaps there is a
good deal of curiosity even in the much-vaunted
maternal love.
364-
Disappointment in Society. — One man
wishes to be interesting for his opinions, another
for his likes and dislikes, a third for his ac-
quaintances, and a fourth for his solitariness—
and they all meet with disappointment. For he
before whom the play is performed thinks himself
the only play that is to be taken into account.
365.
The Duel. —It may be said in favour of duels
and all affairs of honour that if a man has such
## p. 285 (#405) ############################################
MAN IN SOCIETY. 285
susceptible feelings that he does not care to live
when So-and-so says or thinks this or that about ^
him; he has a TTgTfpto make it a question of the'
death of the one or the other. With regard to the ^ \ ■\^~{
fact that he is so susceptible, it is not at all to
be remonstrated with, in that matter we are the *' ^ j^l ft
heirs of the past, of its greatness as well as of
its exaggerations, without which no greatness
ever existed. So when there exists a code of
honour which lets blood stand in place of death,
so that the mind is relieved after a regular duel,
it is a great blessing, because otherwise many
human lives would be in danger. Such an
institution, moreover, teaches men to be cautious
in their utterances and makes intercourse with
them possible.
366.
Nobleness and Gratitude. —A noble soul
will be pleased to owe gratitude, and will not
anxiously avoid opportunities of coming under
obligation; it will also be moderate afterwards
in the expression of its gratitude; baser souls,
on the other hand, are unwilling to be under any
obligation, or are afterwards immoderate in their
expressions of thanks and altogether too devoted.
The latter is, moreover, also the case with persons
of mean origin or depressed circumstances; to
show them a favour seems to them a miracle of
grace.
367.
Occasions of Eloquence. —In order to talk
well one man needs a person who is decidedly and
## p. 286 (#406) ############################################
286
HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
avowedly his superior to talk to, while another
can only find absolute freedom of speech and
happy turns of eloquence before one who is his
inferior. In both cases the cause is the same;
each of them talks well only when he talks sans
gine—the one because in the presence of something
higher he does not feel the impulse of rivalry
and competition, the other because he also lacks
the same impulse in the presence of something
lower. Now there is quite another type of men,
who talk well only when debating, with the
intention of conquering. Which of the two types
is the more aspiring: the one that talks well from
excited ambition, or the one that talks badly
or not at all from precisely the same motive?
368.
should not observe too closely or too sharply, he
forces him back to a certain distance from whence
J- ^
## p. 257 (#377) ############################################
SIGNS OF HIGHER AND LOWER CULTURE. 257
to make his observations; he is obliged to take
for granted a fixed distance of the spectator from
the picture,—he must even suppose an equally
certain amount of sharpness of eye in his
spectator; in such things he must on no account
waver. Every one, therefore, who desires to
idealise his life must not look at it too closely,
i and must always keep his gaze at a certain
distance. This was a trick that Goethe, for
instance, understood.
280.
Aggravation as Relief, and Vice Versa.
—Much that makes life more difficult in certain
grades of mankind serves to lighten it in a higher
grade, because such people have become familiar
with greater aggravations of life. The contrary
also happens; for instance, religion has a double
face, according to whether a man looks up to it
to relieve him of his burden and need, or looks
down upon it as upon fetters laid on him to
prevent him from soaring too high into the air.
281.
The Higher Culture is Necessarily
Misunderstood. —He who has strung his instru-
ment with only two strings, like the scholars
(who, besides the instinct of knowledge possess
only an acquired religious instinct), does not under-
stand people who can play upon more strings.
It lies in the nature of the higher, many-stringed
culture that it should always be falsely interpreted
by the lower; an example of this is when art
vol. 1. R
## p. 258 (#378) ############################################
i
258 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
appears as a disguised form of the religious.
People who are only religious understand even
science as a searching after the religious senti-
ment, just as deaf mutes do not know what music
is, unless it be visible movement.
282.
Lamentation. —It is, perhaps, the advantages
of our epoch that bring with them a backward
movement and an occasional undervaluing of the
vita contemplativa. But it must be acknowledged
that our time is poor in the matter of great
moralists, that Pascal, Epictetus, Seneca, and
Plutarch are now but little read, that work and
industry—formerly in the following of the great
goddess Health—sometimes appear to rage like
a disease. Because time to think and tranquillity
in thought are lacking, we no longer ponder over
different views, but content ourselves with hating
them. With the enormous acceleration of life,
mind and eye grow accustomed to a partial and
false sight and judgment, and all people are like
travellers whose only acquaintance with countries
and nations is derived from the railway. An
independent and cautious attitude of knowledge
is looked upon almost as a kind of madness; the
free spirit is brought into disrepute, chiefly
through scholars, who miss their thoroughness
and ant-like industry in his art of regarding things
and would gladly banish him into one single corner
of science, while it has the different and higher
mission of commanding the battalion rear-guard
of scientific and learned men from an isolated
## p. 259 (#379) ############################################
SIGNS OF HIGHER AND LOWER CULTURE. 259
position, and showing them the ways and aims
of culture. A song of lamentation such as that
which has just been sung will probably have its
own period, and will cease of its own accord on a
forcible return of the genius of meditation.
283.
The Chief Deficiency of Active People. —
Active people are usually deficient in the higher
activity, I mean individual activity. They are
active as officials, merchants, scholars, that is as
a species, but not as quite distinct separate and
single individuals; in this respect they are idle.
. It is the misfortune of the active that their activity
is almost always a little senseless. For instance,
we must not ask the money-making banker the
reason of his restless activity, it is foolish. The
active roll as the stone rolls, according to the
stupidity of mechanics. All mankind is divided,
as it was at all times and is still, into slaves and
freemen; for whoever has not two-thirds of his
day for himself is a slave, be he otherwise what-
ever he likes, statesman, merchant, official, or
scholar.
284.
In Favour of the Idle. —As a sign that
the value of a contemplative life has decreased,
scholars now vie with active people in a sort of
hurried enjoyment, so that they appear to value
this mode of enjoying more than that which
really pertains to them, and which, as a matter of
fact, is a far greater enjoyment. Scholars are
## p. 260 (#380) ############################################
2<5o HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
ashamed of otium. But there is one noble thing
about idleness and idlers. If idleness is really the
beginning of all vice, it finds itself, therefore, at least
in near neighbourhood of all the virtues; the idle
man is still a better man than the active. You
do not suppose that in speaking of idleness and
idlers I am alluding to you, you sluggards?
285.
Modern Unrest. —Modern restlessness in-
creases towards the west, so that Americans look
upon the inhabitants of Europe as altogether
peace-loving and enjoying beings, whilst in reality
they swarm about like wasps and bees. This
restlessness is so great that the higher culture
cannot mature its fruits, it is as if the seasons
followed each other too quickly. For lack of rest
our civilisation is turning into a new barbarism.
At no period have the active, that is, the restless,
been of more importance. One of the necessary
corrections, therefore, which must be undertaken in
the character of humanity is to strengthen the
contemplative element on a large scale. But every
individual who is quiet and steady in heart and
head already has the right to believe that he
possesses not only a good temperament, but also
a generally useful virtue, and even fulfils a higher
mission by the preservation of this virtue.
286.
To what Extent the Active Man is
Lazy. —I believe that every one must ha^e his
## p. 261 (#381) ############################################
SIGNS OF HIGHER AND LOWER CULTURE. 2D,<55
own opinion about everything concerning which \
opinions are possible, because he himself is a
peculiar, unique thing, which assumes towards all
other things a new and never hitherto existing
attitude. But idleness, which lies at the bottom
of the active man's soul, prevents him from draw-
ing water out of his own well. Freedom of
opinion is like health; both are individual, and no
good general conception can be set up of either of
them. That which is necessary for the health of
one individual is the cause of disease in another,
and many means and ways to the freedom of the
spirit are for more highly developed natures the
ways and means to confinement.
287.
Censor Vit/£. —Alternations of love and hatred
for a long period distinguish the inward condition
of a man who desires to be free in his judgment
of life; he does not forget, and bears everything a
grudge, for good and evil. At last, when the
whole tablet of his soul is written full of experi-
ences, he will not hate and despise existence,
neither will he love it, but will regard it sometimes
with a joyful, sometimes with a sorrowful eye, and,
like nature, will be now in a summer and now in
an autumn mood.
288.
The Secondary Result. —Whoever earnestly
desires to be free will therewith and without any
compulsion lose all inclination for faults and vices;
he will also be more rarely overcome by anger and
\
## p. 262 (#382) ############################################
2$>2 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
I
vexation. His will desires nothing more urgently
than to discern, and the means to do this,—that is,
the permanent condition in which he is best able
to discern. '
289.
The Value of Disease. —The man who is
bed-ridden often perceives that he is usually ill of
his position, business, or society, and through them
has lost all self-possession. He gains this piece
of knowledge from the idleness to which his illness
condemns him.
290.
Sensitiveness in the Country. —If there
are no firm, quiet lines on the horizon of his life, a
species of mountain and forest line, man's inmost
will itself becomes restless, inattentive, and covetous,
as is the nature of a dweller in towns; he has no
happiness and confers no happiness.
291.
Prudence of the Free Spirits. —Free-
thinkers, those who live by knowledge alone, will
soon attain the supreme aim of their life and their
ultimate position towards society and State, and
will gladly content themselves, for instance, with a
small post or an income that is just sufficient to
enable them to live; for they will arrange to live
in such a manner that a great change of outward
prosperity, even an overthrow of the political order,
would not cause an overthrow of their life. To
all these things they devote as little energy as
## p. 263 (#383) ############################################
SIGNS OF HIGHER AND LOWER CULTURE. 2*65
V
\
possible in order that with their whole accumu- \
lated strength, and with a long breath, they may
dive into the element of knowledge. Thus they
can hope to dive deep and be able to see the
bottom. Such a spirit seizes only the point of
an event, he does not care for things in the whole
breadth and prolixity of their folds, for he does not
wish to entangle himself in them. He, too, knows
the weekdays of restraint, of dependence and
servitude. But from time to time there must
dawn for him a Sunday of liberty, otherwise he
could not endure life. It is probable that even his
love for humanity will be prudent and somewhat
short-winded, for he desires to meddle with the
world of inclinations and of blindness only as far
as is necessary for the purpose of knowledge. He
must trust that the genius of justice will say some-
thing for its disciple and protegd if accusing voices
were to call him poor in love. In his mode of life
and thought there is a refined heroism, which
scorns to offer itself to the great mob-reverence, as
its coarser brother does, and passes quietly through
and out of the world. Whatever labyrinths it
traverses, beneath whatever rocks its stream has
occasionally worked its way—when it reaches the
light it goes clearly, easily, and almost noiselessly
on its way, and lets the sunshine strike down to
its very bottom.
292.
Forward. —And thus forward upon the path
of wisdom, with a firm step and good confidence!
However you may be situated, serve yourself as a
## p. 264 (#384) ############################################
2£>4 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
source of experience! Throw off the displeasure
at your nature, forgive yourself your own individu-
ality, for in any case you have in yourself a ladder
with a hundred steps upon which you can mount to
knowledge. The age into which with grief you feel
yourself thrown thinks you happy because of this
good fortune; it calls out to you that you shall
still have experiences which men of later ages will
perhaps be obliged to forego. Do not despise
the fact of having been religious; consider fully
how you have had a genuine access to art. Can
you not, with the help of these experiences, follow
immense stretches of former humanity with a
clearer understanding? Is not that ground which
sometimes displeases you so greatly, that ground
of clouded thought, precisely the one upon which
have grown many of the most glorious fruits of
older civilisations? You must have loved religion
and art as you loved mother and nurse,—other-
wise you cannot be wise. But you must be able
to see beyond them, to outgrow them; if you
remain under their ban you do not understand
them. You must also be familiar with history and
that cautious play with the balances: "On the
one hand—on the other hand. " Go back, tread-
ing in the footsteps made by mankind in its great
and painful journey through the desert of the past,
and you will learn most surely whither it is that
all later humanity never can or may go again.
And inasmuch as you wish with all your strength
to see in advance how the knots of the future are
tied, your own life acquires the value of an instru-
ment and means of knowledge. It is within your
## p. 265 (#385) ############################################
SIGNS OF HIGHER AND LOWER CULTURE. ^65
\
power to see that all you have experienced, trials,
errors, faults, deceptions, passions, your love and
your hope, shall be merged wholly in your aim.
This aim is to become a necessary chain of culture-
links yourself, and from this necessity to draw a
conclusion as to the necessity in the progress of
general culture. When your sight has become
strong enough to see to the bottom of the dark
well of your nature and your knowledge, it is
possible that in its mirror you may also behold
the far-away visions of future civilisations. Do
you think that such a life with such an aim is too
wearisome, too empty of all that is agreeable?
Then you have still to learn that no honey is
sweeter than that of knowledge, and that the
overhanging clouds of trouble must be to you as
an udder from which you shall draw milk for your
refreshment. And only when old age approaches
will you rightly perceive how you listened to the
voice of nature, that nature which rules the whole
world through pleasure; the same life which has
its zenith in age has also its zenith in wisdom, in
that mild sunshine of a constant mental joyful-
ness; you meet them both, old age and wisdom,
upon one ridge of life,—it was thus intended by
Nature. Then it is time, and no cause for anger,
that the mists of death approach. Towards the
light is your last movement; a joyful cry of
knowledge is your last sound.
## p. 266 (#386) ############################################
|
A 1
## p. 267 (#387) ############################################
s-
SIXTH DIVISION.
MAN IN SOCIETY.
293-
Well-Meant Dissimulation. —In intercourse
with men a well-meant dissimulation is often
necessary, as if we did not see through the motives
of their actions.
294.
Copies. —We not unfrequently meet with copies
of prominent persons; and as in the case of
pictures, so also here, the copies please more than
the originals.
295.
The Public Speaker. —One may speak with
the greatest appropriateness, and yet so that every-
body cries out to the contrary,—that is to say,
when one does not speak to everybody.
296.
Want of Confidence. —Want of confidence
among friends is a fault that cannot be censured
without becoming incurable.
## p. 268 (#388) ############################################
268
HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
297.
The Art of Giving. —To have to refuse a
gift, merely because it has not been offered in the
right way, provokes animosity against the giver.
298.
The most Dangerous Partisan. —In every
party there is one who, by his far too dogmatic
expression of the party-principles, excites defec-
tion among the others.
299.
Advisers of the Sick. — Whoever gives
advice to a sick person acquires a feeling of
superiority over him, whether the advice be ac-
cepted or rejected. Hence proud and sensitive sick
persons hate advisers more than their sickness.
300.
Double Nature of Equality. —The rage
for equality may so manifest itself that we seek
either to draw all others down to ourselves (by
belittling, disregarding, and tripping up), or our-
selves and all others upwards (by recognition,
assistance, and congratulation).
301.
Against Embarrassment. —The best way
to relieve and calm very embarrassed people is to
give them decided praise.
V
## p. 269 (#389) ############################################
MAN IN SOCIETY. X7I
\ .
\
\
302.
Preference for Certain Virtues. —We
set no special value on the possession of a virtue
until we perceive that it is entirely lacking in our
adversary.
303-
Why we Contradict. —We often contradict
an opinion when it is really only the tone in
which it is expressed that is unsympathetic to us.
304-
/ Confidence and Intimacy. —Whoever pro-
poses to command the intimacy of a person is
usually uncertain of possessing his confidence.
Whoever is sure of a person's confidence attaches
little value to intimacy with him. i
305.
The Equilibrium of Friendship. — The
right equilibrium of friendship in our relation to
other men is sometimes restored when we put a
few grains of wrong on our own side of the scales.
306.
The most Dangerous Physicians. —The
most dangerous physicians are those who, like born
actors, imitate the born physician with the perfect
art of imposture.
## p. 270 (#390) ############################################
2(,9 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
307.
When Paradoxes are Permissible. —In
order to interest clever persons in a theory, it is
sometimes only necessary to put it before them
in the form of a prodigious paradox.
308.
How Courageous People are Won Over.
—Courageous people are persuaded to a course of
action by representing it as more dangerous than
it really is.
309.
Courtesies. —We regard the courtesies shown
us by unpopular persons as offences.
310.
Keeping People Waiting. —A sure way of
exasperating people and of putting bad thoughts
into their heads is to keep them waiting long.
That makes them immoral.
3ii-
Against the Confidential. —Persons who
give us their full confidence think they have
thereby a right to ours. That is a mistake;
people acquire no rights through gifts.
312.
A Mode of Settlement. —It often suffices
to give a person whom we have injured an
opportunity to make a joke about us to give him
## p. 271 (#391) ############################################
MAN IN SOCIETY. 271
personal satisfaction, and even to make him favour-
ably disposed to us.
313-
The Vanity of the Tongue. —Whether man
conceals his bad qualities and vices, or frankly
acknowledges them, his vanity in either case seeks
its advantage thereby,—only let it be observed_/
how nicely he distinguishes those from whom he
conceals such qualities from those with whom he
is frank and honest.
314-
Considerate. —To have no wish to offend or
injure any one may as well be the sign of a just
as of a timid nature.
315-
Requisite for Disputation. —He who can-
not put his thoughts on ice should not enter into
the heat of dispute.
316.
Intercourse and Pretension.
—We forget
our pretensions when we are always conscious of
being amongst meritorious people; being alone
implants presumption in us. The young are
pretentious, for they associate with their equals,
who are all ciphers but would fain have a great
significance.
317-
Motives of an Attack. —One does not attack J
a person merely to hurt and conquer him, but
perhaps merely to become conscious of one's own
strength.
## p. 272 (#392) ############################################
272 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
3*i 8.
Flattery. —Persons who try by means of
flattery to put us off our guard in intercourse
with them, employ a dangerous expedient, like
a sleeping-draught, which, when it does not send
the patient to sleep, keeps him all the wider
awake.
319-
A Good Letter-Writer. —A person who
does not write books, thinks much, and lives in
unsatisfying society, will usually be a good letter-
writer.
320.
The Ugliest of All. —It may be doubted
whether a person who has travelled much has
found anywhere in the world uglier places than
those to be met with in the human face.
321.
The Sympathetic Ones. — Sympathetic
natures, ever ready to help in misfortune, are
seldom those that participate in joy; in the
happiness of others they have nothing to occupy
them, they are superfluous, they do not feel them-
selves in possession of their superiority, and hence
readily show their displeasure.
322.
The Relatives of a Suicide. —The relatives
of a suicide take it in ill part that he did not
remain alive out of consideration for their reputation.
## p. 273 (#393) ############################################
MAN IN SOCIETY. 273
323.
Ingratitude Foreseen. —He who makes a
large gift gets no gratitude; for the recipient is
already overburdened by the acceptance of the gift.
324-
In Dull Society. —Nobody thanks a witty
man for politeness when he puts himself on a par
with a society in which it would not be polite to
show one's wit.
325-
The Presence of Witnesses. — We are
doubly willing to jump into the water after some
one who has fallen in, if there are people present
who have not the courage to do so.
326.
Being Silent. —For both parties in a con-
troversy, the most disagreeable way of retaliating
is to be vexed and silent; for the aggressor
usually regards the silence as a sign of contempt.
327-
Friends' Secrets. —Few people will not
expose the private affairs of their friends when
at a loss for a subject of conversation.
328.
Humanity. —The humanity of intellectual
celebrities consists in courteously submitting to
vol. 1. S
## p. 274 (#394) ############################################
274 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
unfairness in intercourse with those who are
not celebrated.
329-
The Embarrassed. —People who do not feel
sure of themselves in society seize every oppor-
tunity of publicly showing their superiority to
close friends, for instance by teasing them.
330.
THANKS. —A refined nature is vexed by know-
ing that some one owes it thanks, a coarse nature
by knowing that it owes thanks to some one.
331-
A Sign of Estrangement. —The surest sign
of the estrangement of the opinions of two persons
is when they both say something ironical to each
other and neither of them feels the irony.
332.
Presumption in Connection with Merit.
—Presumption in connection with merit offends
us even more than presumption in persons devoid
of merit, for merit in itself offends us.
333-
Danger in the Voice. —In conversation we
are sometimes confused by the tone of our own
voice, and misled to make assertions that do not
at all correspond to our opinions.
## p. 275 (#395) ############################################
MAN IN SOCIETY. 275
334-
In Conversation. —Whether in conversation
with others we mostly agree or mostly disagree
with them is a matter of habit; there is sense in
both cases.
335-
Fear of Our Neighbour. —We are afraid of
the animosity of our neighbour, because we are
apprehensive that he may thereby discover our
secrets.
336.
Distinguishing by Blaming. —Highly re-
spected persons distribute even their blame in
such fashion that they try to distinguish us there-
with. It is intended to remind us of their serious
interest in us. We misunderstand them entirely
when we take their blame literally and protest
against it; we thereby offend them and estrange
ourselves from them.
337-
Indignation at the Goodwill of Others.
—We are mistaken as to the extent to which we
think we are hated or feared; because, though
we ourselves know very well the extent of our
divergence from a person, tendency, or party, those
others know us only superficially, and can, there-
fore, only hate us superficially. We often meet
with goodwill which is inexplicable to us; but
when we comprehend it, it shocks us, because it
shows that we are not considered with sufficient
seriousness or importance.
## p. 276 (#396) ############################################
276 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
338.
Thwarting Vanities. —When two persons
meet whose vanity is equally great, they have
afterwards a bad impression of each other;
because each has been so occupied with the
impression he wished to produce on the other
that the other has made no impression upon him;
at last it becomes clear to them both that their
efforts have been in vain, and each puts the blame
on the other.
339-
Improper Behaviour as a Good Sign. —A
superior mind takes pleasure in the tactlessness,
pretentiousness, and even hostility of ambitious
youths; it is the vicious habit of fiery horses
which have not yet carried a rider, but, in a short
time, will be so proud to carry one. . t»»
340.
When it is Advisable to Suffer Wrong.
—It is well to put up with accusations without
refutation, even when they injure us, when the
accuser would see a still greater fault on our part
if we contradicted and perhaps even refuted him.
In this way, certainly, a person may always be
wronged and always have right on his side, and
may eventually, with the best conscience in the
world, become the most intolerable tyrant and
tormentor; and what happens in the individual
may also take place in whole classes of society.
## p. 277 (#397) ############################################
MAN IN SOCIETY. 277
341-
Too Little Honoured. —Very conceited
persons, who have received less consideration than
they expected, attempt for a long time to
deceive themselves and others with regard to it,
and become subtle psychologists in order to make
out that they have been amply honoured. Should
they not attain their aim, should the veil of
deception be torn, they give way to all the greater
fury.
342.
Primitive* Conditions Re - echoing in
Speech. —By the manner in which people make
assertions in their intercourse we often recognise
an echo of the times when they were more con-
versant with weapons than anything else; some-
times they handle their assertions like sharp-
shooters using their arms, sometimes we think we
hear the whizz and clash of swords, and with
some men an assertion crashes down like a stout
cudgel. Women, on the contrary, speak like
beings who for thousands of years have sat at the
loom, plied the needle, or played the child with
children.
343-
The Narrator. —He who gives an account
of something readily betrays whether it is because
the fact interests him, or because he wishes to
excite interest by the narration. In the latter
case he will exaggerate, employ superlatives, and
such like. He then does not usually tell his story
## p. 278 (#398) ############################################
278 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
so well, because he does not think so much about
his subject as about himself.
344-
The RECITER. —He who recites dramatic
works makes discoveries about his own character;
he finds his voice more natural in certain moods
and scenes than in others, say in the pathetic or
in the scurrilous, while in ordinary life, perhaps,
he has not had the opportunity to exhibit pathos
or scurrility.
345-
A Comedy Scene in Real Life. —Some one
conceives an ingenious idea on a theme in order
to express it in society. Now in a comedy we
should hear and see how he sets all sail for that
point, and tries to land the company at the place
where he can make his remark, how he con-
tinuously pushes the conversation towards the one
goal, sometimes losing the way, finding it again,
and finally arriving at the moment: he is almost
breathless—and then one of the company takes
the remark itself out of his mouth! What will
he do? Oppose his own opinion?
346.
Unintentionally Discourteous. — When
a person treats another with unintentional dis-
courtesy,—for instance, not greeting him because
not recognising him,—he is vexed by it, although
he cannot reproach his own sentiments; he is
hurt by the bad opinion which he has produced
## p. 279 (#399) ############################################
MAN IN SOCIETY. 279
in the other person, or fears the consequences of
his bad humour, or is pained by the thought of
having injured him,—vanity, fear, or pity may
therefore be aroused; perhaps all three together.
347-
A Masterpiece of Treachery. —To express
a tantalising distrust of a fellow-conspirator, lest
he should betray one, and this at the very moment
when one is practising treachery one's self, is a
masterpiece of wickedness; because it absorbs the
other's attention and compels him for a time to act
very unsuspiciously and openly, so that the real
traitor has thus acquired a free hand.
348.
To Injure and to be Injured. —It is far
pleasanter to injure and afterwards beg for forgive-
ness than to be injured and grant forgiveness.
He who does the former gives evidence of power
and afterwards of kindness of character. The
person injured, however, if he does not wish to be
considered inhuman, must forgive; his enjoyment
of the other's humiliation is insignificant on
account of this constraint.
349-
IN A Dispute. —When we contradict another's
opinion and at the same time develop our own,
the constant consideration of the other opinion
usually disturbs the natural attitude of our own,
## p. 280 (#400) ############################################
280 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
which appears more intentional, more distinct, and
perhaps somewhat exaggerated.
350.
An Artifice. —He who wants to get another
to do something difficult must on no account
treat the matter as a problem, but must set forth
his plan plainly as the only one possible; and
when the adversary's eye betrays objection and
opposition he must understand how to break off
quickly, and allow him no time to put in a word.
3Si-
Pricks of Conscience after Social
Gatherings. —Why does our conscience prick
us after ordinary social gatherings? Because we
have treated serious things lightly, because in
talking of persons we have not spoken quite justly
or have been silent when we should have spoken,
because, sometimes, we have not jumped up and
run away,—in short, because we have behaved in
society as if we belonged to it.
352.
We are Misjudged. —He who always listens
to hear how he is judged is always vexed. For
we are misjudged even by those who are nearest
to us (" who know us best"). Even good friends
sometimes vent their ill-humour in a spiteful
word; and would they be our friends if they knew
us rightly? The judgments of the indifferent
## p. 281 (#401) ############################################
MAN IN SOCIETY. 281
wound us deeply, because they sound so impartial,
so objective almost. But when we see that
some one hostile to us knows us in a concealed
point as well as we know ourselves, how great is
then our vexation!
353-
The Tyranny of the Portrait. —Artists
and statesmen, who out of particular features
quickly construct the whole picture of a man or
an event, are mostly unjust in demanding that
the event or person should afterwards be actually
as they have painted it; they demand straightway
that a man should be just as gifted, cunning, and
unjust as he is in their representation of him.
354-
Relatives as the Best Friends. —The
Greeks, who knew so well what a friend was,
they alone of all peoples have a profound and
largely philosophical discussion of friendship; so
that it is by them firstly (and as yet lastly) that
the problem of the friend has been recognised
as worthy of solution,—these same Greeks have
designated relatives by an expression which is
the superlative of the word "friend. " This is
inexplicable to me.
355-
Misunderstood Honesty. —When any one
quotes himself in conversation (" I then said," " I
am accustomed to say"), it gives the impression
of presumption; whereas it often proceeds from
## p. 282 (#402) ############################################
282 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
quite an opposite source ; or at least from honesty,
which does not wish to deck and adorn the
present moment with wit which belongs to an
earlier moment.
356.
The Parasite. —It denotes entire absence of
a noble disposition when a person prefers to live
in dependence at the expense of others, usually
with a secret bitterness against them, in order only
that he may not be obliged to work. Such a
disposition is far more frequent in women than
in men, also far more pardonable (for historical
reasons).
357-
On the Altar of Reconciliation. —There
are circumstances under which one can only gain
a point from a person by wounding him and
becoming hostile; the feeling of having a foe
torments him so much that he gladly seizes the
first indication of a milder disposition to effect
a reconciliation, and offers on the altar of this
reconciliation what was formerly of such im-
portance to him that he would not give it up
at any price.
358.
Presumption in Demanding Pity. —There
are people who, when they have been in a rage
and have insulted others, demand, firstly, that
it shall all be taken in good part; and, secondly,
that they shall be pitied because they are subject
to such violent paroxysms. So far does human
presumption extend.
## p. 283 (#403) ############################################
MAN IN SOCIETY. 283
359-
BAIT. —" Every man has his price "—that is
not true. But perhaps every one can be found
a bait of one kind or other at which he will
snap. Thus, in order to gain some supporters
for a cause, it is only necessary to give it the
glamour of being philanthropic, noble, charitable,
and self-denying—and to what cause could this
glamour not be given! It is the sweetmeat and
dainty of their soul; others have different ones.
360.
The Attitude in Praising. —When good
friends praise a gifted person he often appears
to be delighted with them out of politeness and
goodwill, but in reality he feels indifferent.
His real nature is quite unmoved towards them,
and will not budge a step on that account out
of the sun or shade in which it lies; but people
wish to please by praise, and it would grieve
them if one did not rejoice when they praise
a person.
361.
The Experience of Socrates. —If one has
become a master in one thing, one has generally
remained, precisely thereby, a complete dunce
in most other things; but one forms the very
reverse opinion, as was already experienced by
Socrates. This is the annoyance which makes
association with masters disagreeable.
## p. 284 (#404) ############################################
284 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
362.
A Means of Defence. —In warring against
stupidity, the most just and gentle of men at
last become brutal. They are thereby, perhaps,
taking the proper course for defence; for the
most appropriate argument for a stupid brain
is the clenched fist. But because, as has been
said, their character is just and gentle, they suffer
more by this means of protection than they injure
their opponents by it.
363-
CURIOSITY. —If curiosity did not exist, very
little would be done for the good of our
neighbour. But curiosity creeps into the houses
of the unfortunate and the needy under the
name of duty or of pity. Perhaps there is a
good deal of curiosity even in the much-vaunted
maternal love.
364-
Disappointment in Society. — One man
wishes to be interesting for his opinions, another
for his likes and dislikes, a third for his ac-
quaintances, and a fourth for his solitariness—
and they all meet with disappointment. For he
before whom the play is performed thinks himself
the only play that is to be taken into account.
365.
The Duel. —It may be said in favour of duels
and all affairs of honour that if a man has such
## p. 285 (#405) ############################################
MAN IN SOCIETY. 285
susceptible feelings that he does not care to live
when So-and-so says or thinks this or that about ^
him; he has a TTgTfpto make it a question of the'
death of the one or the other. With regard to the ^ \ ■\^~{
fact that he is so susceptible, it is not at all to
be remonstrated with, in that matter we are the *' ^ j^l ft
heirs of the past, of its greatness as well as of
its exaggerations, without which no greatness
ever existed. So when there exists a code of
honour which lets blood stand in place of death,
so that the mind is relieved after a regular duel,
it is a great blessing, because otherwise many
human lives would be in danger. Such an
institution, moreover, teaches men to be cautious
in their utterances and makes intercourse with
them possible.
366.
Nobleness and Gratitude. —A noble soul
will be pleased to owe gratitude, and will not
anxiously avoid opportunities of coming under
obligation; it will also be moderate afterwards
in the expression of its gratitude; baser souls,
on the other hand, are unwilling to be under any
obligation, or are afterwards immoderate in their
expressions of thanks and altogether too devoted.
The latter is, moreover, also the case with persons
of mean origin or depressed circumstances; to
show them a favour seems to them a miracle of
grace.
367.
Occasions of Eloquence. —In order to talk
well one man needs a person who is decidedly and
## p. 286 (#406) ############################################
286
HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
avowedly his superior to talk to, while another
can only find absolute freedom of speech and
happy turns of eloquence before one who is his
inferior. In both cases the cause is the same;
each of them talks well only when he talks sans
gine—the one because in the presence of something
higher he does not feel the impulse of rivalry
and competition, the other because he also lacks
the same impulse in the presence of something
lower. Now there is quite another type of men,
who talk well only when debating, with the
intention of conquering. Which of the two types
is the more aspiring: the one that talks well from
excited ambition, or the one that talks badly
or not at all from precisely the same motive?
368.
