You yourself call your opinions
dangerous
to those
in danger, and yet you make them public?
in danger, and yet you make them public?
Nietzsche - v07 - Human All-Too-Human - b
He asks, whence
comes it and whither will it go? But even this
## p. 221 (#257) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 221
questioning appears to him questionable. Surely,
however, the consequence would be that the think-
er's machinery would no longer work properly if
he could really feel himself unencumbered by duty
in the search for knowledge? It would appear,
then, that for fuel the same element is necessary as
must be investigated by means of the machine. —
Perhaps the formula will be: granted there were
a duty of recognising truth, what is then the truth
in regard to every other kind of duty? —But is
not a hypothetical sense of duty a contradiction in
terms?
44-
GRADES OF Morals. — Morality is primarily
a means of preserving the community and saving
it from destruction. Next it is a means of main-
taining the community on a certain plane and in a
certain degree of benevolence. Its motives are fear
and hope, and these in a more coarse, rough, and
powerful form, the more the propensity towards
the perverse, one-sided, and personal still persists.
The most terrible means of intimidation must be
brought into play so long as milder forms have
no effect and that twofold species of preservation
cannot be attained. (The strongest intimidation,
by the way, is the invention of a hereafter with a
hell everlasting. ) For this purpose we must have
racks and torturers of the soul. Further grades of
morality, and accordingly means to the end re-
ferred to, are the commandments of a God (as in
the Mosaic law). Still further and higher are the
commandments of an absolute sense of duty with
## p. 222 (#258) ############################################
222 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
a "Thou shalt"—all rather roughly hewn yet broad
steps, because on the finer, narrower steps men
cannot yet set their feet . Then comes a morality
of inclination, of taste, finally of insight—which is
beyond all the illusory motives of morality, but
has convinced itself that humanity for long periods
could be allowed no other.
45-
The Morality ofPity in theMouths of the
Intemperate. —All those who are not sufficiently
masters of themselves and do not know morality
as a self-control and self-conquest continuously
exercised in things great and small, unconsciously
come to glorify the good, compassionate, benevolent
impulses of that instinctive morality which has no
head, but seems merely to consist of a heart and
helpful hands. It is to their interest even to cast
suspicion upon a morality of reason and to set up
the other as the sole morality.
46.
Sewers of the Soul. —Even the soul must
have its definite sewers, through which it can allow
its filth to flow off: for this purpose it may use
persons, relations, social classes, its native country,
or the world, or finally—for the wholly arrogant (I
mean our modern "pessimists ")—le bon Dieu.
47-
A Kind of Rest and Contemplation. —Be-
ware lest your rest and contemplation resemble that
## p. 223 (#259) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 223
of a dog before a butcher's stall, prevented by fear
from advancing and by greed from retiring, and
opening its eyes wide as though they were mouths.
48.
Prohibitions without Reasons. —A prohibi-
tion, the reason of which we do not understand or
admit, is almost a command, not only for the stiff-
necked but for the thirster after knowledge. We
at once make an experiment in order to learn why
the prohibition was made. Moral prohibitions, like
those of the Decalogue, are only suited to ages
when reason lies vanquished. Nowadays a pro-
hibition like "Thou shalt not kill," "Thou shalt
not commit adultery," laid down without reasons,
would have an injurious rather than a beneficial
effect
49-
Character Portrait. —What sort of a man
is it that can say of himself: "I despise very easily,
but never hate. I at once find out in. every man
something which can be honoured and for which I
honour him: the so-called amiable qualities attract
me but little"?
SO.
Pity and Contempt. —The expression of pity
is regarded as a sign of contempt, because one has
clearly ceased to be an object olfear as soon as one
becomes an object of pity. One has sunk below
the level of the equilibrium. For this equilibrium
does not satisfy human vanity, which is only satis-
## p. 224 (#260) ############################################
224 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
fied by the feeling that one is imposing respect and
awe. Hence it is difficult to explain why pity is
so highly prized, just as we need to explain why
the unselfish man, who is originally despised or
feared as being artful, is praised.
51-
The Capacity of Being Small. —We must
be as near to flowers, grasses, and butterflies as
a child, that is, not much bigger than they. We
adults have grown up beyond them and have to
stoop to them. I think the grasses hate us when
we confess our love for them. —He who would have
a share in all good things must understand at times
how to be small.
52.
The Sum-Total of Conscience. —The sum-
total of our conscience is all that has regularly been
demanded of us, without reason, in the days of our
childhood, by people whom we respected or feared.
From conscience comes that feeling of obligation
(" This I must do, this omit ") which does not ask,
Why must I ? —In all cases where a thing is done
with " because " and " why," man acts without con-
science, but not necessarily on that account against
conscience. —The belief in authority is the source of
conscience; which is therefore not the voice of God
in the heart of man, but the voice of some men in
man.
S3-
Conquest of the Passions. —The man who has
overcome his passions has entered into possession
## p. 225 (#261) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 225
of the most fruitful soil, like the colonist who has
become lord over bogs and forests. To sow the
seed of spiritual good works on the soil of the
vanquished passions is the next and most urgent
task. The conquest itself is a means, not an end:
if it be not so regarded, all kind of weeds and
devil's crop quickly spring up upon the fertile soil
that has been cleared, and soon the growth is all
wilder and more luxuriant than before.
54-
Skill in Service. —All so-called practical men
have skill in service, whether it be serving others
or themselves; this is what makes them practical.
Robinson owned a servant even better than Friday
—his name was Crusoe.
55-
Danger in Speech to Intellectual Free-
dom. —Every word is a preconceived judgment.
S6.
Intellect and Boredom. —The proverb," The
Hungarian is far too lazy to feel bored," gives food
for thought. Only the highest and most active
animals are capable of being bored. —The boredom
of God on the seventh day of Creation would be a
subject for a great poet.
57-
Intercourse with Animals. —The origin of
our morality may still be observed in our relations
VOL. II. P
## p. 226 (#262) ############################################
226 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
with animals. Where advantage or the reverse do
not come into play, we have a feeling of complete
irresponsibility. For example, we kill or wound
insects or let them live, and as a rule think no more
about it . We are so clumsy that even our gracious
acts towards flowers and small animals are almost
always murderous: this does not in the least detract
from our pleasure in them. —To-day is the festival
of the small animals, the most sultry day of the
year. There is a swarming and crawling around
us, and we, without intention, but also without
reflection, crush here and there a little fly or
winged beetle. —If animals do us harm, we strive
to annihilate them in every possible way. The
means are often cruel enough, even without our
really intending them to be so—it is the cruelty of
thoughtlessness. If they are useful, we turn them
to advantage, until a more refined wisdom teaches
us that certain animals amply reward a different
mode of treatment, that of tending and breeding.
Here responsibility first arises. Torturing is avoided
in the case of the domestic animal. One man is
indignant if another is cruel to his cow, quite in
accordance with the primitive communal morality,
which sees the commonwealth in danger whenever
an individual does wrong. He who perceives any
transgression in the community fears indirect harm
to himself. Thus we fear in this case for the quality
of meat, agriculture, and means of communication
if we see the domestic animals ill-treated. More-
over, he who is harsh to animals awakens a suspicion
that he is also harsh to men who are weak, inferior,
and incapable of revenge. He is held to be ignoble
## p. 227 (#263) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 227
and deficient in the finer form of pride. Thus arises
a foundation of moral judgments and sentiments,
but the greatest contribution is made by supersti-
tion. Many animals incite men by glances, tones,
and gestures to transfer themselves into them
in imagination, and some religions teach us, under
certain circumstances, to see in animals the dwelling-
place of human and divine souls: whence they re-
commend a nobler caution or even a reverential
awe in intercourse with animals. Even after the
disappearance of this superstition the sentiments
awakened by it continue to exercise their influence,
to ripen and to blossom. —Christianity, as is well
known, has shown itself in this respect a poor and
retrograde religion.
58.
New Actors. —Among human beings there is
no greater banality than death. Second in order,
because it is possible to die without being born,
comes birth, and next comes marriage. But these
hackneyed little tragi-comedies are always pre-
sented, at each of their unnumbered and innumerable
performances, by new actors, and accordingly do
not cease to find interested spectators: whereas we
might well believe that the whole audience of the
world-theatre had long since hanged themselves to
every tree from sheer boredom at these performances.
So much depends on new actors, so little on the
piece.
59-
What is " Being Obstinate " ? —The shortest
way is not the straightest possible, but that wherein
## p. 228 (#264) ############################################
228 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
favourable winds swell our sails. So says the wis-
dom of seamen. Not to follow his course is obsti-
nate, firmness of character being then adulterated
by stupidity.
60.
The Word "Vanity. "—It is annoying that
certain words, with which we moralists positively
cannot dispense, involve in themselves a kind of
censorship of morals, dating from the times when
the most ordinary and natural impulses were de-
nounced. Thus that fundamental conviction that
on the waves of society we either find navigable
waters or suffer shipwreck far more through what
we appear than through what we are (a conviction
that must act as guiding principle of all action in
relation to society) is branded with the general word
"vanity. " In other words, one of the most weighty
and significant of qualities is branded with an ex-
pression which denotes it as essentially empty and
negative: a great thing is designated by a diminu-
tive, ay, even slandered by the strokes of caricature.
There is no help for it; we must use such words, but
then we must shut our ears to the insinuations of
ancient habits.
61.
The Fatalism of the Turk. —The fatalism of
the Turk has this fundamental defect, that it con-
trasts man and fate as two distinct things. Man,
says this doctrine, may struggle against fate and
try to baffle it, but in the end fate will always gain
the victory. Hence the most rational course is to
## p. 229 (#265) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 229
resign oneself or to live as one pleases. As a
matter of fact, every man is himself a piece of fate.
When he thinks that he is struggling against fate
in this way, fate is accomplishing its ends even in
that struggle. The combat is a fantasy, but so is the
resignation in fate—all these fantasies are included
in fate. —The fear felt by most people of the doctrine
that denies the freedom of the will is a fear of the
fatalism of the Turk. They imagine that man will
become weakly resigned and will stand before the
future with folded hands, because he cannot alter
anything of the future. Or that he will give a free
rein to his caprices, because the predestined cannot
be made worse by that course. The follies of men
are as much a piece of fate as are his wise actions,
and even that fear of belief in fate is a fatality. You
yourself, you poor timid creature, are that indomit-
able Moira, which rules even the Gods; whatever
may happen, you are a curse or a blessing, and
in any case the fetters wherein the strongest lies
bound: in you the whole future of the human world
is predestined, and it is no use for you to be frightened
of yourself.
62.
The Advocate of the Devil. —" Only by our
own suffering do we become wise, only by others'
suffering do we become good "—so runs that strange
philosophy which derives all morality from pity and
all intellectuality from the isolation of the individual.
Herein this philosophy is the unconscious pleader
for all human deterioration. For pity needs suffer-
ing, and isolation contempt of others.
## p. 230 (#266) ############################################
230
HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
63.
THE MORAL CHARACTER-MASKS. — In ages
when the character-masks of different classes are
definitely fixed, like the classes themselves, moralists
will be seduced into holding the moral character-
masks, too, as absolute, and in delineating them
accordingly. Thus Molière is intelligible as the
contemporary of the society of Louis XIV. : in our
society of transitions and intermediate stages he
would seem an inspired pedant.
64.
THE MOST NOBLE VIRTUE. -In the first era of
the higher humanity courage is accounted the most
noble virtue, in the next justice, in the third temper-
ance, in the fourth wisdom. In which era do we
live? In which do you live?
65.
A NECESSARY PRELIMINARY. -A man who will'
not become master of his irritability, his venomous
and vengeful feelings, and his lust, and attempts to
become master in anything else, is as stupid as the
farmer who lays out his field beside a torrent with-
out guarding against that torrent.
66.
WHAT IS TRUTH ? —Schwarzert (Melanchthon):
We often preach our faith when we have lost it, and
leave not a stone unturned to find it—and then we
often do not preach worst !
## p. 231 (#267) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 231
Luther: Brother,you are really speaking like an
angel to-day.
Schwarzert: But that is the idea of your enemies,
and they apply it to you.
Luther: Then it would be a lie from the devil's
hind-quarters.
67.
The Habit of Contrasts. —Superficial, in-
exact observation sees contrasts everywhere in
nature (for instance, "hot and cold "), where there
are no contrasts, only differences of degree. This
bad habit has induced us to try to understand
and interpret even the inner nature, the intellectual
and moral world, in accordance with such contrasts.
An infinite amount of cruelty, arrogance, harshness,
estrangement, and coldness has entered into human
emotion, because men imagined they saw contrasts
where there were only transitions.
68.
Can We Forgive ? —How can we forgive them
at all, if they know not what they do? We have
nothing to forgive. But does a man ever fully know
what he is doing? And if this point at least remains
always debatable, men never have anything to for-
give each other, and indulgence is for the reason-
able man an impossible thing. Finally, if the
evil-doers had really known what they did, we
should still only have a right to forgive if we had a
right to accuse and to punish. But we have not
that right.
## p. 232 (#268) ############################################
232 HUMAX, ALL-TOO-HUMAX.
69.
Habitual Shake. —Why do we feel shame
when some virtue or merit is attributed to us which,
as the saying goes, "we have not deserved"?
Because we appear to have intruded upon a territory
to which we do not belong, from which we should
be excluded, as from a holy place or holy of holies,
which ought not to be trodden by our foot . Through
the errors of others we have, nevertheless, penetrated
to it, and we are now swayed partly by fear, partly
by reverence, partly by surprise; we do net know
whether we ought to fly or to enjoy the blissful
moment with all its gracious advantages. In all
shame there is a mystery, which seems dese;rated or
in danger of desecration through us. All favour
begets shame. —But if it be remembered that we
have never really "deserved " anything, this feeling
of shame, provided that we surrender ourselves to
this point of view in a spirit of Christian contem-
plation, becomes habitual, because upon such a
one God seems continually to be conferring his
blessing and his favours. Apart from this Christian
interpretation, the state of habitual shame will be
possible even to the entirely godless sage, who
clings firmly to the basic non-responsibility and non-
meritoriousness of all action and being. If he be
treated as if he had deserved this or that, he will
seem to have won his way into a higher order of
beings, who do actually deserve something, who are
free and can really bear the burden of responsibility
for their own volition and capacity. Whoever says
to him, "You have deserved it," appears to cry
## p. 233 (#269) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 233
out to him, "You are not a human being, but a
God. "
70.
The Most Unskilful Teacher. —In one man
all his real virtues are implanted on the soil of his
spirit of contradiction, in another on his incapacity
to say "no "—in other words, on his spirit of ac-
quiescence. A third has made all his morality grow
out of his pride as a solitary, a fourth from his
strong social instinct. Now,supposing that theseeds
of the virtues in these four cases, owing to mischance
or unskilful teachers, were not sown on the soil of
their nature, which provides them with the richest
and most abundant mould, they would become
weak, unsatisfactory men (devoid of morality).
And who would have been the most unskilful of
teachers, the evil genius of these men? The moral
fanatic, who thinks that the good can only grow
out of the good and on the soil of the good.
7i-
The Cautious Style. —A. But if this were
known to all, it would be injurious to the majority.
You yourself call your opinions dangerous to those
in danger, and yet you make them public?
B. I write so that neither the mob, nor the
populi, nor the parties of all kinds can read me. So
my opinions will never be "public opinions. "
A. How do you write, then?
B. Neither usefully nor pleasantly—for the three
classes I have mentioned.
## p. 233 (#270) ############################################
232
HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
69.
HABITUAL SHAME. – Why do we feel shame
when some virtue or merit is attributed to us which,
as the saying goes, “we have not deserved "?
Because we appear to have intruded upon a territory
to which we do not belong, from which we should
be excluded, as from a holy place or holy of holies,
which ought not to be trodden by our foot. Through
the errors of others we have, nevertheless, penetrated
to it, and we are now swayed partly by fear, partly
by reverence, partly by surprise; we do nct know
whether we ought to fly or to enjoy the blissful
moment with all its gracious advantages. In all
shame there is a mystery, which seems desecrated or
in danger of desecration through us. All favour
begets shame. —But if it be remembered that we
have never really “deserved” anything, this feeling
of shame, provided that we surrender ourselves to
this point of view in a spirit of Christian contem-
plation, becomes habitual, because upon such a
one God seems continually to be conferring his
blessing and his favours. Apart from this Christian
interpretation, the state of habitual shame will be
possible even to the entirely godless sage, who
clings firmly to the basic non-responsibility and non-
meritoriousness of all action and being. If he be
treated as if he had deserved this or that, he will
seem to have won his way into a higher order of
beings, who do actually deserve something, who are
free and can really bear the burden of responsibility
for their own volition and capacity. Whoever says
to him, “You have deserved it," appears to cry
## p. 233 (#271) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 233
out to him, “You are not a human being, but a
God. ”
70.
The MOST UNSKILFUL TEACHER. -In one man
all his real virtues are implanted on the soil of his
spirit of contradiction, in another on his incapacity
to say "no"—in other words, on his spirit of ac-
quiescence. A third has made all his morality grow
out of his pride as a solitary, a fourth from his
strong social instinct. Now,supposing that theseeds
of the virtues in these four cases, owing to mischance
or unskilful teachers, were not sown on the soil of
their nature, which provides them with the richest
and most abundant mould, they would become
weak, unsatisfactory men (devoid of morality).
And who would have been the most unskilful of
teachers, the evil genius of these men? The moral
fanatic, who thinks that the good can only grow
out of the good and on the soil of the good.
71.
THE CAUTIOUS STYLE. -A. But if this were
known to all, it would be injurious to the majority.
You yourself call your opinions dangerous to those
in danger, and yet you make them public?
B. I write so that neither the mob, nor the
populi, nor the parties of all kinds can read me. So
my opinions will never be "public opinions. ”
• A. How do you write, then?
B. Neither usefully nor pleasantly—for the three
classes I have mentioned.
## p. 234 (#272) ############################################
234
HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
72.
DIVINE MISSIONARIES. — Even Socrates feels
himself to be a divine missionary, but I am not sure
whether we should not here detect a tincture of that
Attic irony and fondness for jesting whereby this
odious, arrogant conception would be toned down.
He talks of the fact without unction_his images of
the gadily and the horse are simple and not sacer-
dotal. The real religious task which he has set
himself—to test God in a hundred ways and see
whether he spoke the truth-betrays a bold and free
attitude, in which the missionary walked by the side
of his God. This testing of God is one of the most
subtle compromises between piety and free-thinking
that has ever been devised. —Nowadays we do not
even need this compromise any longer.
73.
HONESTY IN PAINTING. –Raphael, who cared a
great deal for the Church (so far as she could pay
him), but, like the best men of his time, cared little
for the objects of the Church's belief, did not advance
one step to meet the exacting, ecstatic piety of many
of his patrons. He remained honest even in that
exceptional picture which was originally intended
for a banner in a procession—the Sistine Madonna.
Here for once he wished to paint a vision, but such
a vision as even noble youths without “faith” may
and will have—the vision of the future wife, a wise,
high-souled, silent, and very beautiful woman, carry-
ing her first-born in her arms. Let men of an older
generation, accustomed to prayer and devotion, find
## p. 235 (#273) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND- HIS SHADOW. 235
here, like the worthy elder on the left, something
superhuman to revere. We younger men (so
Raphael seems to call to us) are occupied with the
beautiful maiden on the right, who says to the
spectator of the picture, with her challenging and
by no means devout look, "The mother and her
child—is not that a pleasant, inviting sight? " The
face and the look are reflected in the joy in the faces
of the beholders. The artist who devised all this
enjoys himself in this way, and adds his own delight
to the delight of the art-lover. As regards the
"messianic" expression in the face of the child,
Raphael, honest man, who would not paint any
state of soul in which he did not believe, has
amiably cheated his religious admirers. He painted
that freak of nature which is very often found, the
man's eye in the child's face, and that, too, the eye
of a brave, helpful man who sees distress. This eye
should be accompanied by a beard. The fact that a
beard is wanting, and that two different ages are seen
in one countenance, is the pleasing paradox which
believers have interpreted in accordance with their
faith in miracles. The artist could only expect as
much from their art of exposition and interpretation.
74-
Prayer. —On two hypotheses alone is there any
sense in prayer, that not quite extinct custom of
olden times. It would have to be possible either
to fix or alter the will of the godhead, and the
devotee would have to know best himself what he
needs and should really desire. Both hypotheses,
## p. 235 (#274) ############################################
234
HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
72.
DIVINE MISSIONARIES. — Even Socrates feels
himself to be a divine missionary, but I am not sure
whether we should not here detect a tincture of that
Attic irony and fondness for jesting whereby this
odious, arrogant conception would be toned down.
He talks of the fact without unction_his images of
the gadily and the horse are simple and not sacer-
dotal. The real religious task which he has set
himself—to test God in a hundred ways and see
whether he spoke the truth—betrays a bold and free
attitude, in which the missionary walked by the side
of his God. This testing of God is one of the most
subtle compromises between piety and free-thinking
that has ever been devised. Nowadays we do not
even need this compromise any longer.
73.
HONESTY IN PAINTING. —Raphael, who cared a
great deal for the Church (so far as she could pay
him), but, like the best men of his time, cared little
for the objects of the Church's belief, did not advance
one step to meet the exacting, ecstatic piety of many
of his patrons. He remained honest even in that
exceptional picture which was originally intended
for a banner in a procession—the Sistine Madonna.
Here for once he wished to paint a vision, but such
a vision as even noble youths without "faith” may
and will have—the vision of the future wife, a wise,
high-souled, silent, and very beautiful woman, carry-
ing her first-born in her arms. Let men of an older
generation, accustomed to prayer and devotion, find
## p. 235 (#275) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW.
235
here, like the worthy elder on the left, something
superhuman to revere. We younger men (so
Raphael seems to call to us) are occupied with the
beautiful maiden on the right, who says to the
spectator of the picture, with her challenging and
by no means devout look, "The mother and her
child—is not that a pleasant, inviting sight? ” The
face and the look are reflected in the joy in the faces
of the beholders. The artist who devised all this
enjoys himself in this way, and adds his own delight
to the delight of the art-lover. As regards the
“messianic” expression in the face of the child,
Raphael, honest man, who would not paint any
state of soul in which he did not believe, has
amiably cheated his religious admirers. He painted
that freak of nature which is very often found, the
man's eye in the child's face, and that, too, the eye
of a brave, helpful man who sees distress. This eye
should be accompanied by a beard. The fact that a
beard is wanting, and that two different ages are seen
in one countenance, is the pleasing paradox which
believers have interpreted in accordance with their
faith in miracles. The artist could only expect as
much from their art of exposition and interpretation.
74.
PRAYER. —On two hypotheses alone is there any
sense in prayer, that not quite extinct custom of
olden times. It would have to be possible either
to fix or alter the will of the godhead, and the
devotee would have to know best himself what he
needs and should really desire. Both hypotheses,
## p. 236 (#276) ############################################
236 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
axiomatic and traditional in all other religions, are
denied by Christianity. If Christianity neverthe-
less maintained prayer side by side with its belief
in the all-wise and all-provident divine reason (a
belief that makes prayer really senseless and even
blasphemous), it showed here once more its admir-
able "wisdom of the serpent. " For an outspoken
command, "Thou shalt not pray," would have led
Christians by way of boredom to the denial of
Christianity. In the Christian ora et labora ora
plays the r61e of pleasure. Without ora what could
those unlucky saints who renounced labora have
done? But to have a chat with God, to ask him
for all kinds of pleasant things, to feel a slight
amusement at one's own folly in still having any
wishes at all, in spite of so excellent a father—all
that was an admirable invention for saints.
75-
A Holy Lie. —The lie that was on Arria's lips
when she died (Paete, non dolet *) obscures all the
truths that have ever been uttered by the dying.
It is the only holy lie that has become famous,
whereas elsewhere the odour of sanctity has clung
only to errors.
76.
The Most Necessary Apostle. — Among
twelve apostles one must always be hard as stone, in
order that upon him the new church may be built.
* The wife of the Stoic Thrasea Paetus, when their com-
plicity in the great conspiracy of 65 a. d. against Nero was
discovered, is reported to have said as she committed suicide,
"It doesn't hurt, Paetus. "—Tr.
## p. 237 (#277) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 237
77-
Which is more Transitory, the Body or
THE Spirit ? —In legal, moral, and religious institu-
tions the external and concrete elements—in other
words, rites, gestures, and ceremonies—are the most
permanent. They are the body to which a new
spirit is constantly being superadded. The cult,
like an unchangeable text, is ever interpreted anew.
Concepts and emotions are fluid, customs are solid.
78.
The Belief in Disease qua Disease. —
Christianity first painted the devil on the wall of
the world. Christianity first brought the idea of sin
into the world. The belief in the remedies, which
is offered as an antidote, has gradually been shaken
to its very foundations. But the belief in the
disease, which Christianity has taught and propa-
gated, still exists.
79-
Speech and Writings of Religious Men. —
If the priest's style and general expression, both in
speaking and writing, do not clearly betray the
religious man, we need no longer take his views
upon religion and his pleading for religion seriously.
These opinions have become powerless for him if,
judging by his style, he has at command irony,
arrogance, malice, hatred, and all the changing
eddies of mood, just like the most irreligious of
men—how far more powerless will they be for his
## p. 238 (#278) ############################################
238 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
hearers and readers! In short, he will serve to
make the latter still more irreligious.
So.
The Danger in Personality. — The more
God has been regarded as a personality in himself,
the less loyal have we been to him. Men are far
more attached to their thought-images than to their
best beloved. That is why they sacrifice themselves
for State, Church, and even for God—so far as he
remains their creation, their thought, and is not too
much looked upon as a personality. In the latter
case they almost always quarrel with him. After
all, it was the most pious of men who let slip that
bitter cry: " My God, why hast thou forsaken me? "
81.
Worldly Justice. —It is possible to unhinge
worldly justice with the doctrine |of the complete
non - responsibility and innocence of every man.
An attempt has been made in the same direction
on the basis of the opposite doctrine of the full
responsibility and guilt of every man. It was the
founder of Christianity who wished to abolish
worldly justice and banish judgment and punish-
ment from the world. For he understood all guilt
as "sin "—that is, an outrage against God and not
against the world. On the other hand, he con-
sidered every man in a broad sense, and almost
in every sense, a sinner. The guilty, however, are
not to be the judges of their peers—so his rules
## p. 239 (#279) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 239
of equity decided. Thus all dispensers of worldly
justice were in his eyes as culpable as those they
condemned, and their air of guiltlessness appeared
to him hypocritical and pharisaical. Moreover, he
looked to the motives and not to the results of
actions, and thought that only one was keen-sighted
enough to give a verdict on motives—himself or, as
he expressed it, God.
82.
An Affectation in Parting. —He who wishes
to sever his connection with a party or a creed thinks
it necessary for him to refute it. This is a most
arrogant notion. The only thing necessary is that
he should clearly see what tentacles hitherto held
him to this party or creed and no longer hold him,
what views impelled him to it and now impel him
in some other directions. We have not joined the
party or creed on strict grounds of knowledge. We
should not affect this attitude on parting from it
either.
83.
Saviour and Physician. —In his knowledge of
the human soul the founder of Christianity was, as
is natural, not without many great deficiencies and
prejudices, and, as physician of the soul, was ad-
dicted to that disreputable, laical belief in a universal
medicine. In his methods he sometimes resembles
that dentist who wishes to heal all pain by extract-
ing the tooth. Thus, for example, he assails sensu-
ality with the advice: "If thine eye offend thee,
pluck it out. "—Yet there still remains the distinction
## p. 240 (#280) ############################################
240 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
that the dentist at least attains his object—painless-
ness for the patient—although in so clumsy a fashion
that he becomes ridiculous; whereas the Christian
who follows that advice and thinks he has killed
his sensuality, is wrong, for his sensuality still lives
in an uncanny, vampire form, and torments him in
hideous disguises.
84.
PRISONERS. —One morning the prisoners entered
the yard for work, but the warder was not there.
Some, as their manner was, set to work at once;
others stood idle and gazed defiantly around.
Then one of them strode forward and cried," Work
as much as you will or do nothing, it all comes to
the same. Your secret machinations have come to
light; the warder has been keeping his eye on you
of late, and will cause a terrible judgment to be
passed upon you in a few days' time. You know
him—he is of a cruel and resentful disposition.
But now, listen: you have mistaken me hitherto.
I am not what I seem, but far more—I am the son
of the warder, and can get anything I like out of
him. I can save you—nay, I will save you. But
remember this: I will only save those of you who
believe that I am the son of the prison warder.
The rest may reap the fruits of their unbelief. "
"Well," said an old prisoner after an interval of
silence, "what can it matter to you whether we
believe you or not? If you are really the son, and
can do what you say, then put in a good word for
us all. That would be a real kindness on your
part. But have done with all talk of belief and
## p. 241 (#281) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 241
unbelief! " "What is more," cried a younger man,
"I don't believe him: he has only got a bee in his
bonnet. I'll wager that in a week's time we shall
find ourselves in the same place as we are to-day,
and the warder will know nothing. " "And if the
warder ever knew anything, he knows it no longer,"
said the last of the prisoners, coming down into
the yard at that moment, "for he has just died
suddenly. " "Ah ha! " cried several in confusion,
"ah ha! Sir Son, Sir Son, how stands it now with
your title? Are we by any chance your prisoners
now? " "I told you," answered the man gently,
■' I will set free all who believe in me, as surely as
my father still lives. "—The prisoners did not laugh,
but shrugged their shoulders and left him to himself.
85-
The Persecutors of God. —Paul conceived
and Calvin followed up the idea that countless
creatures have been predestined to damnation from
time immemorial, and that this fair world was
made in order that the glory of God might be
manifested therein. So heaven and hell and man-
kind merely exist to satisfy the vanity of God!
What acruel, insatiable vanity must have smouldered
in the soul of the first or second thinker of such a
thought!
comes it and whither will it go? But even this
## p. 221 (#257) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 221
questioning appears to him questionable. Surely,
however, the consequence would be that the think-
er's machinery would no longer work properly if
he could really feel himself unencumbered by duty
in the search for knowledge? It would appear,
then, that for fuel the same element is necessary as
must be investigated by means of the machine. —
Perhaps the formula will be: granted there were
a duty of recognising truth, what is then the truth
in regard to every other kind of duty? —But is
not a hypothetical sense of duty a contradiction in
terms?
44-
GRADES OF Morals. — Morality is primarily
a means of preserving the community and saving
it from destruction. Next it is a means of main-
taining the community on a certain plane and in a
certain degree of benevolence. Its motives are fear
and hope, and these in a more coarse, rough, and
powerful form, the more the propensity towards
the perverse, one-sided, and personal still persists.
The most terrible means of intimidation must be
brought into play so long as milder forms have
no effect and that twofold species of preservation
cannot be attained. (The strongest intimidation,
by the way, is the invention of a hereafter with a
hell everlasting. ) For this purpose we must have
racks and torturers of the soul. Further grades of
morality, and accordingly means to the end re-
ferred to, are the commandments of a God (as in
the Mosaic law). Still further and higher are the
commandments of an absolute sense of duty with
## p. 222 (#258) ############################################
222 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
a "Thou shalt"—all rather roughly hewn yet broad
steps, because on the finer, narrower steps men
cannot yet set their feet . Then comes a morality
of inclination, of taste, finally of insight—which is
beyond all the illusory motives of morality, but
has convinced itself that humanity for long periods
could be allowed no other.
45-
The Morality ofPity in theMouths of the
Intemperate. —All those who are not sufficiently
masters of themselves and do not know morality
as a self-control and self-conquest continuously
exercised in things great and small, unconsciously
come to glorify the good, compassionate, benevolent
impulses of that instinctive morality which has no
head, but seems merely to consist of a heart and
helpful hands. It is to their interest even to cast
suspicion upon a morality of reason and to set up
the other as the sole morality.
46.
Sewers of the Soul. —Even the soul must
have its definite sewers, through which it can allow
its filth to flow off: for this purpose it may use
persons, relations, social classes, its native country,
or the world, or finally—for the wholly arrogant (I
mean our modern "pessimists ")—le bon Dieu.
47-
A Kind of Rest and Contemplation. —Be-
ware lest your rest and contemplation resemble that
## p. 223 (#259) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 223
of a dog before a butcher's stall, prevented by fear
from advancing and by greed from retiring, and
opening its eyes wide as though they were mouths.
48.
Prohibitions without Reasons. —A prohibi-
tion, the reason of which we do not understand or
admit, is almost a command, not only for the stiff-
necked but for the thirster after knowledge. We
at once make an experiment in order to learn why
the prohibition was made. Moral prohibitions, like
those of the Decalogue, are only suited to ages
when reason lies vanquished. Nowadays a pro-
hibition like "Thou shalt not kill," "Thou shalt
not commit adultery," laid down without reasons,
would have an injurious rather than a beneficial
effect
49-
Character Portrait. —What sort of a man
is it that can say of himself: "I despise very easily,
but never hate. I at once find out in. every man
something which can be honoured and for which I
honour him: the so-called amiable qualities attract
me but little"?
SO.
Pity and Contempt. —The expression of pity
is regarded as a sign of contempt, because one has
clearly ceased to be an object olfear as soon as one
becomes an object of pity. One has sunk below
the level of the equilibrium. For this equilibrium
does not satisfy human vanity, which is only satis-
## p. 224 (#260) ############################################
224 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
fied by the feeling that one is imposing respect and
awe. Hence it is difficult to explain why pity is
so highly prized, just as we need to explain why
the unselfish man, who is originally despised or
feared as being artful, is praised.
51-
The Capacity of Being Small. —We must
be as near to flowers, grasses, and butterflies as
a child, that is, not much bigger than they. We
adults have grown up beyond them and have to
stoop to them. I think the grasses hate us when
we confess our love for them. —He who would have
a share in all good things must understand at times
how to be small.
52.
The Sum-Total of Conscience. —The sum-
total of our conscience is all that has regularly been
demanded of us, without reason, in the days of our
childhood, by people whom we respected or feared.
From conscience comes that feeling of obligation
(" This I must do, this omit ") which does not ask,
Why must I ? —In all cases where a thing is done
with " because " and " why," man acts without con-
science, but not necessarily on that account against
conscience. —The belief in authority is the source of
conscience; which is therefore not the voice of God
in the heart of man, but the voice of some men in
man.
S3-
Conquest of the Passions. —The man who has
overcome his passions has entered into possession
## p. 225 (#261) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 225
of the most fruitful soil, like the colonist who has
become lord over bogs and forests. To sow the
seed of spiritual good works on the soil of the
vanquished passions is the next and most urgent
task. The conquest itself is a means, not an end:
if it be not so regarded, all kind of weeds and
devil's crop quickly spring up upon the fertile soil
that has been cleared, and soon the growth is all
wilder and more luxuriant than before.
54-
Skill in Service. —All so-called practical men
have skill in service, whether it be serving others
or themselves; this is what makes them practical.
Robinson owned a servant even better than Friday
—his name was Crusoe.
55-
Danger in Speech to Intellectual Free-
dom. —Every word is a preconceived judgment.
S6.
Intellect and Boredom. —The proverb," The
Hungarian is far too lazy to feel bored," gives food
for thought. Only the highest and most active
animals are capable of being bored. —The boredom
of God on the seventh day of Creation would be a
subject for a great poet.
57-
Intercourse with Animals. —The origin of
our morality may still be observed in our relations
VOL. II. P
## p. 226 (#262) ############################################
226 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
with animals. Where advantage or the reverse do
not come into play, we have a feeling of complete
irresponsibility. For example, we kill or wound
insects or let them live, and as a rule think no more
about it . We are so clumsy that even our gracious
acts towards flowers and small animals are almost
always murderous: this does not in the least detract
from our pleasure in them. —To-day is the festival
of the small animals, the most sultry day of the
year. There is a swarming and crawling around
us, and we, without intention, but also without
reflection, crush here and there a little fly or
winged beetle. —If animals do us harm, we strive
to annihilate them in every possible way. The
means are often cruel enough, even without our
really intending them to be so—it is the cruelty of
thoughtlessness. If they are useful, we turn them
to advantage, until a more refined wisdom teaches
us that certain animals amply reward a different
mode of treatment, that of tending and breeding.
Here responsibility first arises. Torturing is avoided
in the case of the domestic animal. One man is
indignant if another is cruel to his cow, quite in
accordance with the primitive communal morality,
which sees the commonwealth in danger whenever
an individual does wrong. He who perceives any
transgression in the community fears indirect harm
to himself. Thus we fear in this case for the quality
of meat, agriculture, and means of communication
if we see the domestic animals ill-treated. More-
over, he who is harsh to animals awakens a suspicion
that he is also harsh to men who are weak, inferior,
and incapable of revenge. He is held to be ignoble
## p. 227 (#263) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 227
and deficient in the finer form of pride. Thus arises
a foundation of moral judgments and sentiments,
but the greatest contribution is made by supersti-
tion. Many animals incite men by glances, tones,
and gestures to transfer themselves into them
in imagination, and some religions teach us, under
certain circumstances, to see in animals the dwelling-
place of human and divine souls: whence they re-
commend a nobler caution or even a reverential
awe in intercourse with animals. Even after the
disappearance of this superstition the sentiments
awakened by it continue to exercise their influence,
to ripen and to blossom. —Christianity, as is well
known, has shown itself in this respect a poor and
retrograde religion.
58.
New Actors. —Among human beings there is
no greater banality than death. Second in order,
because it is possible to die without being born,
comes birth, and next comes marriage. But these
hackneyed little tragi-comedies are always pre-
sented, at each of their unnumbered and innumerable
performances, by new actors, and accordingly do
not cease to find interested spectators: whereas we
might well believe that the whole audience of the
world-theatre had long since hanged themselves to
every tree from sheer boredom at these performances.
So much depends on new actors, so little on the
piece.
59-
What is " Being Obstinate " ? —The shortest
way is not the straightest possible, but that wherein
## p. 228 (#264) ############################################
228 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
favourable winds swell our sails. So says the wis-
dom of seamen. Not to follow his course is obsti-
nate, firmness of character being then adulterated
by stupidity.
60.
The Word "Vanity. "—It is annoying that
certain words, with which we moralists positively
cannot dispense, involve in themselves a kind of
censorship of morals, dating from the times when
the most ordinary and natural impulses were de-
nounced. Thus that fundamental conviction that
on the waves of society we either find navigable
waters or suffer shipwreck far more through what
we appear than through what we are (a conviction
that must act as guiding principle of all action in
relation to society) is branded with the general word
"vanity. " In other words, one of the most weighty
and significant of qualities is branded with an ex-
pression which denotes it as essentially empty and
negative: a great thing is designated by a diminu-
tive, ay, even slandered by the strokes of caricature.
There is no help for it; we must use such words, but
then we must shut our ears to the insinuations of
ancient habits.
61.
The Fatalism of the Turk. —The fatalism of
the Turk has this fundamental defect, that it con-
trasts man and fate as two distinct things. Man,
says this doctrine, may struggle against fate and
try to baffle it, but in the end fate will always gain
the victory. Hence the most rational course is to
## p. 229 (#265) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 229
resign oneself or to live as one pleases. As a
matter of fact, every man is himself a piece of fate.
When he thinks that he is struggling against fate
in this way, fate is accomplishing its ends even in
that struggle. The combat is a fantasy, but so is the
resignation in fate—all these fantasies are included
in fate. —The fear felt by most people of the doctrine
that denies the freedom of the will is a fear of the
fatalism of the Turk. They imagine that man will
become weakly resigned and will stand before the
future with folded hands, because he cannot alter
anything of the future. Or that he will give a free
rein to his caprices, because the predestined cannot
be made worse by that course. The follies of men
are as much a piece of fate as are his wise actions,
and even that fear of belief in fate is a fatality. You
yourself, you poor timid creature, are that indomit-
able Moira, which rules even the Gods; whatever
may happen, you are a curse or a blessing, and
in any case the fetters wherein the strongest lies
bound: in you the whole future of the human world
is predestined, and it is no use for you to be frightened
of yourself.
62.
The Advocate of the Devil. —" Only by our
own suffering do we become wise, only by others'
suffering do we become good "—so runs that strange
philosophy which derives all morality from pity and
all intellectuality from the isolation of the individual.
Herein this philosophy is the unconscious pleader
for all human deterioration. For pity needs suffer-
ing, and isolation contempt of others.
## p. 230 (#266) ############################################
230
HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
63.
THE MORAL CHARACTER-MASKS. — In ages
when the character-masks of different classes are
definitely fixed, like the classes themselves, moralists
will be seduced into holding the moral character-
masks, too, as absolute, and in delineating them
accordingly. Thus Molière is intelligible as the
contemporary of the society of Louis XIV. : in our
society of transitions and intermediate stages he
would seem an inspired pedant.
64.
THE MOST NOBLE VIRTUE. -In the first era of
the higher humanity courage is accounted the most
noble virtue, in the next justice, in the third temper-
ance, in the fourth wisdom. In which era do we
live? In which do you live?
65.
A NECESSARY PRELIMINARY. -A man who will'
not become master of his irritability, his venomous
and vengeful feelings, and his lust, and attempts to
become master in anything else, is as stupid as the
farmer who lays out his field beside a torrent with-
out guarding against that torrent.
66.
WHAT IS TRUTH ? —Schwarzert (Melanchthon):
We often preach our faith when we have lost it, and
leave not a stone unturned to find it—and then we
often do not preach worst !
## p. 231 (#267) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 231
Luther: Brother,you are really speaking like an
angel to-day.
Schwarzert: But that is the idea of your enemies,
and they apply it to you.
Luther: Then it would be a lie from the devil's
hind-quarters.
67.
The Habit of Contrasts. —Superficial, in-
exact observation sees contrasts everywhere in
nature (for instance, "hot and cold "), where there
are no contrasts, only differences of degree. This
bad habit has induced us to try to understand
and interpret even the inner nature, the intellectual
and moral world, in accordance with such contrasts.
An infinite amount of cruelty, arrogance, harshness,
estrangement, and coldness has entered into human
emotion, because men imagined they saw contrasts
where there were only transitions.
68.
Can We Forgive ? —How can we forgive them
at all, if they know not what they do? We have
nothing to forgive. But does a man ever fully know
what he is doing? And if this point at least remains
always debatable, men never have anything to for-
give each other, and indulgence is for the reason-
able man an impossible thing. Finally, if the
evil-doers had really known what they did, we
should still only have a right to forgive if we had a
right to accuse and to punish. But we have not
that right.
## p. 232 (#268) ############################################
232 HUMAX, ALL-TOO-HUMAX.
69.
Habitual Shake. —Why do we feel shame
when some virtue or merit is attributed to us which,
as the saying goes, "we have not deserved"?
Because we appear to have intruded upon a territory
to which we do not belong, from which we should
be excluded, as from a holy place or holy of holies,
which ought not to be trodden by our foot . Through
the errors of others we have, nevertheless, penetrated
to it, and we are now swayed partly by fear, partly
by reverence, partly by surprise; we do net know
whether we ought to fly or to enjoy the blissful
moment with all its gracious advantages. In all
shame there is a mystery, which seems dese;rated or
in danger of desecration through us. All favour
begets shame. —But if it be remembered that we
have never really "deserved " anything, this feeling
of shame, provided that we surrender ourselves to
this point of view in a spirit of Christian contem-
plation, becomes habitual, because upon such a
one God seems continually to be conferring his
blessing and his favours. Apart from this Christian
interpretation, the state of habitual shame will be
possible even to the entirely godless sage, who
clings firmly to the basic non-responsibility and non-
meritoriousness of all action and being. If he be
treated as if he had deserved this or that, he will
seem to have won his way into a higher order of
beings, who do actually deserve something, who are
free and can really bear the burden of responsibility
for their own volition and capacity. Whoever says
to him, "You have deserved it," appears to cry
## p. 233 (#269) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 233
out to him, "You are not a human being, but a
God. "
70.
The Most Unskilful Teacher. —In one man
all his real virtues are implanted on the soil of his
spirit of contradiction, in another on his incapacity
to say "no "—in other words, on his spirit of ac-
quiescence. A third has made all his morality grow
out of his pride as a solitary, a fourth from his
strong social instinct. Now,supposing that theseeds
of the virtues in these four cases, owing to mischance
or unskilful teachers, were not sown on the soil of
their nature, which provides them with the richest
and most abundant mould, they would become
weak, unsatisfactory men (devoid of morality).
And who would have been the most unskilful of
teachers, the evil genius of these men? The moral
fanatic, who thinks that the good can only grow
out of the good and on the soil of the good.
7i-
The Cautious Style. —A. But if this were
known to all, it would be injurious to the majority.
You yourself call your opinions dangerous to those
in danger, and yet you make them public?
B. I write so that neither the mob, nor the
populi, nor the parties of all kinds can read me. So
my opinions will never be "public opinions. "
A. How do you write, then?
B. Neither usefully nor pleasantly—for the three
classes I have mentioned.
## p. 233 (#270) ############################################
232
HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
69.
HABITUAL SHAME. – Why do we feel shame
when some virtue or merit is attributed to us which,
as the saying goes, “we have not deserved "?
Because we appear to have intruded upon a territory
to which we do not belong, from which we should
be excluded, as from a holy place or holy of holies,
which ought not to be trodden by our foot. Through
the errors of others we have, nevertheless, penetrated
to it, and we are now swayed partly by fear, partly
by reverence, partly by surprise; we do nct know
whether we ought to fly or to enjoy the blissful
moment with all its gracious advantages. In all
shame there is a mystery, which seems desecrated or
in danger of desecration through us. All favour
begets shame. —But if it be remembered that we
have never really “deserved” anything, this feeling
of shame, provided that we surrender ourselves to
this point of view in a spirit of Christian contem-
plation, becomes habitual, because upon such a
one God seems continually to be conferring his
blessing and his favours. Apart from this Christian
interpretation, the state of habitual shame will be
possible even to the entirely godless sage, who
clings firmly to the basic non-responsibility and non-
meritoriousness of all action and being. If he be
treated as if he had deserved this or that, he will
seem to have won his way into a higher order of
beings, who do actually deserve something, who are
free and can really bear the burden of responsibility
for their own volition and capacity. Whoever says
to him, “You have deserved it," appears to cry
## p. 233 (#271) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 233
out to him, “You are not a human being, but a
God. ”
70.
The MOST UNSKILFUL TEACHER. -In one man
all his real virtues are implanted on the soil of his
spirit of contradiction, in another on his incapacity
to say "no"—in other words, on his spirit of ac-
quiescence. A third has made all his morality grow
out of his pride as a solitary, a fourth from his
strong social instinct. Now,supposing that theseeds
of the virtues in these four cases, owing to mischance
or unskilful teachers, were not sown on the soil of
their nature, which provides them with the richest
and most abundant mould, they would become
weak, unsatisfactory men (devoid of morality).
And who would have been the most unskilful of
teachers, the evil genius of these men? The moral
fanatic, who thinks that the good can only grow
out of the good and on the soil of the good.
71.
THE CAUTIOUS STYLE. -A. But if this were
known to all, it would be injurious to the majority.
You yourself call your opinions dangerous to those
in danger, and yet you make them public?
B. I write so that neither the mob, nor the
populi, nor the parties of all kinds can read me. So
my opinions will never be "public opinions. ”
• A. How do you write, then?
B. Neither usefully nor pleasantly—for the three
classes I have mentioned.
## p. 234 (#272) ############################################
234
HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
72.
DIVINE MISSIONARIES. — Even Socrates feels
himself to be a divine missionary, but I am not sure
whether we should not here detect a tincture of that
Attic irony and fondness for jesting whereby this
odious, arrogant conception would be toned down.
He talks of the fact without unction_his images of
the gadily and the horse are simple and not sacer-
dotal. The real religious task which he has set
himself—to test God in a hundred ways and see
whether he spoke the truth-betrays a bold and free
attitude, in which the missionary walked by the side
of his God. This testing of God is one of the most
subtle compromises between piety and free-thinking
that has ever been devised. —Nowadays we do not
even need this compromise any longer.
73.
HONESTY IN PAINTING. –Raphael, who cared a
great deal for the Church (so far as she could pay
him), but, like the best men of his time, cared little
for the objects of the Church's belief, did not advance
one step to meet the exacting, ecstatic piety of many
of his patrons. He remained honest even in that
exceptional picture which was originally intended
for a banner in a procession—the Sistine Madonna.
Here for once he wished to paint a vision, but such
a vision as even noble youths without “faith” may
and will have—the vision of the future wife, a wise,
high-souled, silent, and very beautiful woman, carry-
ing her first-born in her arms. Let men of an older
generation, accustomed to prayer and devotion, find
## p. 235 (#273) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND- HIS SHADOW. 235
here, like the worthy elder on the left, something
superhuman to revere. We younger men (so
Raphael seems to call to us) are occupied with the
beautiful maiden on the right, who says to the
spectator of the picture, with her challenging and
by no means devout look, "The mother and her
child—is not that a pleasant, inviting sight? " The
face and the look are reflected in the joy in the faces
of the beholders. The artist who devised all this
enjoys himself in this way, and adds his own delight
to the delight of the art-lover. As regards the
"messianic" expression in the face of the child,
Raphael, honest man, who would not paint any
state of soul in which he did not believe, has
amiably cheated his religious admirers. He painted
that freak of nature which is very often found, the
man's eye in the child's face, and that, too, the eye
of a brave, helpful man who sees distress. This eye
should be accompanied by a beard. The fact that a
beard is wanting, and that two different ages are seen
in one countenance, is the pleasing paradox which
believers have interpreted in accordance with their
faith in miracles. The artist could only expect as
much from their art of exposition and interpretation.
74-
Prayer. —On two hypotheses alone is there any
sense in prayer, that not quite extinct custom of
olden times. It would have to be possible either
to fix or alter the will of the godhead, and the
devotee would have to know best himself what he
needs and should really desire. Both hypotheses,
## p. 235 (#274) ############################################
234
HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
72.
DIVINE MISSIONARIES. — Even Socrates feels
himself to be a divine missionary, but I am not sure
whether we should not here detect a tincture of that
Attic irony and fondness for jesting whereby this
odious, arrogant conception would be toned down.
He talks of the fact without unction_his images of
the gadily and the horse are simple and not sacer-
dotal. The real religious task which he has set
himself—to test God in a hundred ways and see
whether he spoke the truth—betrays a bold and free
attitude, in which the missionary walked by the side
of his God. This testing of God is one of the most
subtle compromises between piety and free-thinking
that has ever been devised. Nowadays we do not
even need this compromise any longer.
73.
HONESTY IN PAINTING. —Raphael, who cared a
great deal for the Church (so far as she could pay
him), but, like the best men of his time, cared little
for the objects of the Church's belief, did not advance
one step to meet the exacting, ecstatic piety of many
of his patrons. He remained honest even in that
exceptional picture which was originally intended
for a banner in a procession—the Sistine Madonna.
Here for once he wished to paint a vision, but such
a vision as even noble youths without "faith” may
and will have—the vision of the future wife, a wise,
high-souled, silent, and very beautiful woman, carry-
ing her first-born in her arms. Let men of an older
generation, accustomed to prayer and devotion, find
## p. 235 (#275) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW.
235
here, like the worthy elder on the left, something
superhuman to revere. We younger men (so
Raphael seems to call to us) are occupied with the
beautiful maiden on the right, who says to the
spectator of the picture, with her challenging and
by no means devout look, "The mother and her
child—is not that a pleasant, inviting sight? ” The
face and the look are reflected in the joy in the faces
of the beholders. The artist who devised all this
enjoys himself in this way, and adds his own delight
to the delight of the art-lover. As regards the
“messianic” expression in the face of the child,
Raphael, honest man, who would not paint any
state of soul in which he did not believe, has
amiably cheated his religious admirers. He painted
that freak of nature which is very often found, the
man's eye in the child's face, and that, too, the eye
of a brave, helpful man who sees distress. This eye
should be accompanied by a beard. The fact that a
beard is wanting, and that two different ages are seen
in one countenance, is the pleasing paradox which
believers have interpreted in accordance with their
faith in miracles. The artist could only expect as
much from their art of exposition and interpretation.
74.
PRAYER. —On two hypotheses alone is there any
sense in prayer, that not quite extinct custom of
olden times. It would have to be possible either
to fix or alter the will of the godhead, and the
devotee would have to know best himself what he
needs and should really desire. Both hypotheses,
## p. 236 (#276) ############################################
236 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
axiomatic and traditional in all other religions, are
denied by Christianity. If Christianity neverthe-
less maintained prayer side by side with its belief
in the all-wise and all-provident divine reason (a
belief that makes prayer really senseless and even
blasphemous), it showed here once more its admir-
able "wisdom of the serpent. " For an outspoken
command, "Thou shalt not pray," would have led
Christians by way of boredom to the denial of
Christianity. In the Christian ora et labora ora
plays the r61e of pleasure. Without ora what could
those unlucky saints who renounced labora have
done? But to have a chat with God, to ask him
for all kinds of pleasant things, to feel a slight
amusement at one's own folly in still having any
wishes at all, in spite of so excellent a father—all
that was an admirable invention for saints.
75-
A Holy Lie. —The lie that was on Arria's lips
when she died (Paete, non dolet *) obscures all the
truths that have ever been uttered by the dying.
It is the only holy lie that has become famous,
whereas elsewhere the odour of sanctity has clung
only to errors.
76.
The Most Necessary Apostle. — Among
twelve apostles one must always be hard as stone, in
order that upon him the new church may be built.
* The wife of the Stoic Thrasea Paetus, when their com-
plicity in the great conspiracy of 65 a. d. against Nero was
discovered, is reported to have said as she committed suicide,
"It doesn't hurt, Paetus. "—Tr.
## p. 237 (#277) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 237
77-
Which is more Transitory, the Body or
THE Spirit ? —In legal, moral, and religious institu-
tions the external and concrete elements—in other
words, rites, gestures, and ceremonies—are the most
permanent. They are the body to which a new
spirit is constantly being superadded. The cult,
like an unchangeable text, is ever interpreted anew.
Concepts and emotions are fluid, customs are solid.
78.
The Belief in Disease qua Disease. —
Christianity first painted the devil on the wall of
the world. Christianity first brought the idea of sin
into the world. The belief in the remedies, which
is offered as an antidote, has gradually been shaken
to its very foundations. But the belief in the
disease, which Christianity has taught and propa-
gated, still exists.
79-
Speech and Writings of Religious Men. —
If the priest's style and general expression, both in
speaking and writing, do not clearly betray the
religious man, we need no longer take his views
upon religion and his pleading for religion seriously.
These opinions have become powerless for him if,
judging by his style, he has at command irony,
arrogance, malice, hatred, and all the changing
eddies of mood, just like the most irreligious of
men—how far more powerless will they be for his
## p. 238 (#278) ############################################
238 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
hearers and readers! In short, he will serve to
make the latter still more irreligious.
So.
The Danger in Personality. — The more
God has been regarded as a personality in himself,
the less loyal have we been to him. Men are far
more attached to their thought-images than to their
best beloved. That is why they sacrifice themselves
for State, Church, and even for God—so far as he
remains their creation, their thought, and is not too
much looked upon as a personality. In the latter
case they almost always quarrel with him. After
all, it was the most pious of men who let slip that
bitter cry: " My God, why hast thou forsaken me? "
81.
Worldly Justice. —It is possible to unhinge
worldly justice with the doctrine |of the complete
non - responsibility and innocence of every man.
An attempt has been made in the same direction
on the basis of the opposite doctrine of the full
responsibility and guilt of every man. It was the
founder of Christianity who wished to abolish
worldly justice and banish judgment and punish-
ment from the world. For he understood all guilt
as "sin "—that is, an outrage against God and not
against the world. On the other hand, he con-
sidered every man in a broad sense, and almost
in every sense, a sinner. The guilty, however, are
not to be the judges of their peers—so his rules
## p. 239 (#279) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 239
of equity decided. Thus all dispensers of worldly
justice were in his eyes as culpable as those they
condemned, and their air of guiltlessness appeared
to him hypocritical and pharisaical. Moreover, he
looked to the motives and not to the results of
actions, and thought that only one was keen-sighted
enough to give a verdict on motives—himself or, as
he expressed it, God.
82.
An Affectation in Parting. —He who wishes
to sever his connection with a party or a creed thinks
it necessary for him to refute it. This is a most
arrogant notion. The only thing necessary is that
he should clearly see what tentacles hitherto held
him to this party or creed and no longer hold him,
what views impelled him to it and now impel him
in some other directions. We have not joined the
party or creed on strict grounds of knowledge. We
should not affect this attitude on parting from it
either.
83.
Saviour and Physician. —In his knowledge of
the human soul the founder of Christianity was, as
is natural, not without many great deficiencies and
prejudices, and, as physician of the soul, was ad-
dicted to that disreputable, laical belief in a universal
medicine. In his methods he sometimes resembles
that dentist who wishes to heal all pain by extract-
ing the tooth. Thus, for example, he assails sensu-
ality with the advice: "If thine eye offend thee,
pluck it out. "—Yet there still remains the distinction
## p. 240 (#280) ############################################
240 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
that the dentist at least attains his object—painless-
ness for the patient—although in so clumsy a fashion
that he becomes ridiculous; whereas the Christian
who follows that advice and thinks he has killed
his sensuality, is wrong, for his sensuality still lives
in an uncanny, vampire form, and torments him in
hideous disguises.
84.
PRISONERS. —One morning the prisoners entered
the yard for work, but the warder was not there.
Some, as their manner was, set to work at once;
others stood idle and gazed defiantly around.
Then one of them strode forward and cried," Work
as much as you will or do nothing, it all comes to
the same. Your secret machinations have come to
light; the warder has been keeping his eye on you
of late, and will cause a terrible judgment to be
passed upon you in a few days' time. You know
him—he is of a cruel and resentful disposition.
But now, listen: you have mistaken me hitherto.
I am not what I seem, but far more—I am the son
of the warder, and can get anything I like out of
him. I can save you—nay, I will save you. But
remember this: I will only save those of you who
believe that I am the son of the prison warder.
The rest may reap the fruits of their unbelief. "
"Well," said an old prisoner after an interval of
silence, "what can it matter to you whether we
believe you or not? If you are really the son, and
can do what you say, then put in a good word for
us all. That would be a real kindness on your
part. But have done with all talk of belief and
## p. 241 (#281) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 241
unbelief! " "What is more," cried a younger man,
"I don't believe him: he has only got a bee in his
bonnet. I'll wager that in a week's time we shall
find ourselves in the same place as we are to-day,
and the warder will know nothing. " "And if the
warder ever knew anything, he knows it no longer,"
said the last of the prisoners, coming down into
the yard at that moment, "for he has just died
suddenly. " "Ah ha! " cried several in confusion,
"ah ha! Sir Son, Sir Son, how stands it now with
your title? Are we by any chance your prisoners
now? " "I told you," answered the man gently,
■' I will set free all who believe in me, as surely as
my father still lives. "—The prisoners did not laugh,
but shrugged their shoulders and left him to himself.
85-
The Persecutors of God. —Paul conceived
and Calvin followed up the idea that countless
creatures have been predestined to damnation from
time immemorial, and that this fair world was
made in order that the glory of God might be
manifested therein. So heaven and hell and man-
kind merely exist to satisfy the vanity of God!
What acruel, insatiable vanity must have smouldered
in the soul of the first or second thinker of such a
thought!
