—There are tender, moral
natures who are ashamed of all their successes and
feel remorse after every failure.
natures who are ashamed of all their successes and
feel remorse after every failure.
Nietzsche - v09 - The Dawn of Day
Its most common modes of manifesta-
tion are making presents, derision, and destruction
—all three being due to a common fundamental
instinct.
357.
MORAL MOSQUITOES. —Those moralists who are
lacking in the love of knowledge, and who are only
acquainted with the pleasure of giving pain, have
the spirit and tediousness of provincials. Their
pastime, as cruel as it is lamentable, is to observe
their neighbour with the greatest possible closeness,
and, unperceived, to place a pin in such position
that he cannot help pricking himself with it. Such
men have preserved something of the wickedness
of schoolboys, who cannot amuse themselves with-
out hunting and torturing either the living or the
dead,
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THE DAWN OF DAY.
287
358.
REASONS AND THEIR UNREASON. —You feel a
dislike for him, and adduce innumerable reasons for
this dislike, but I only believe in your dislike and
not in your reasons! You flatter yourself by ad-
ducing as a rational conclusion, both to yourself and
to me, that which happens to be merely a matter
of instinct.
359.
APPROVING OF SOMETHING. –We approve of
marriage in the first place because we are not yet
acquainted with it, in the second place because
we have accustomed ourselves to it, and in the
third place because we have contracted it—that is
to say, in most cases. And yet nothing has been
proved thereby in favour of the value of marriage
in general.
360.
NO UTILITARIANS. —“ Power which has greatly
suffered both in deed and in thought is better than
powerlessness which only meets with kind treat-
ment”—such was the Greek way of thinking. In
other words, the feeling of power was prized more
highly by them than any mere utility or fair re-
nown.
361.
UGLY IN APPEARANCE. —Moderation appears
to itself to be quite beautiful: it is unaware of the
fact that in the eyes of the immoderate it seems
coarse and insipid, and consequently ugly.
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288
THE DAWN OF DAY.
362.
DIFFERENT IN THEIR HATRED. —There are
men who do not begin to hate until they feel weak
and tired : in other respects they are fair-minded
and superior. Others only begin to hate when they
see an opportunity for revenge: in other respects
they carefully avoid both secret and open wrath,
and overlook it whenever there is any occasion
for it.
363.
MEN OF CHANCE. —It is pure hazard which plays
the essential part in every invention, but most men
do not meet with this hazard.
364.
CHOICE OF ENVIRONMENT. —We should beware
of living in an environment where we are neither able
to maintain a dignified silence nor to express our lof-
tier thoughts, so that only our complaints and needs
and the whole story of our misery are left to be told.
We thus become dissatisfied with ourselves and with
our surroundings, and to the discomfort which brings
about our complaints we add the vexation which
we feel at always being in the position of grumb-
lers. But we should, on the contrary, live in a place
where we should be ashamed to speak of ourselves
and where it would not be necessary to do so. -
Who, however, thinks of such things, or of the choice
in such things? We talk about our “fate,” brace
up our shoulders, and sigh, “Unfortunate Atlas that
I am! ”
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THE DAWN OF DAY.
289
365.
VANITY. –Vanity is the dread of appearing to be
original. Hence it is a lack of pride, but not nec-
essarily a lack of originality.
366.
THE CRIMINAL'S GRIEF. —The criminal who
has been found out does not suffer because of the
crime he has committed, but because of the shame
and annoyance caused him either by some blunder
which he has made or by being deprived of his
habitual element; and keen discernment is neces-
sary to distinguish such cases. Every one who has
had much experience of prisons and reformatories is
astonished at the rare instances of really genuine
“ remorse," and still more so at the longing shown
to return to the old wicked and beloved crime.
367.
ALWAYS APPEARING HAPPY. —When, in the
Greece of the third century, philosophy had become
a matter of public emulation, there were not a
few philosophers who became happy through the
thought that others who lived according to differ-
ent principles, and suffered from them, could not
but feel envious of their happiness. They thought
they could refute these other people with their
happiness better than anything else, and to achieve
this object they were content to appear to be
always happy ; but, following this practice, they
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290
THE DAWN OF DAY.
were obliged to become happy in the long run!
This, for example, was the case of the cynics.
368.
THE CAUSE OF MUCH MISUNDERSTANDING. —
The morality of increasing nervous force is joyful
and restless; the morality of diminishing nervous
force, towards evening, or in invalids and old people,
is passive, calm, patient, and melancholy, and not
rarely even gloomy. In accordance with what we
may possess of one or other of these moralities, we
do not understand that which we lack, and we often
interpret it in others as immorality and weakness.
369.
RAISING ONE'S SELF ABOVE ONE'S OWN Low-
NESS. —“ Proud” fellows they are indeed, those who,
in order to establish a sense of their own dignity and
importance, stand in need of other people whom
they may tyrannise and oppress—those whose
powerlessness and cowardice permits some one to
make sublime and furious gestures in their presence
with impunity, so that they require the baseness of
their surroundings to raise themselves for one short
moment above their own baseness ! -For this pur-
pose one man requires a dog, another a friend, a
third a wife, a fourth a party, a fifth, again, one very
rarely to be met with, a whole age.
370.
TO WHAT EXTENT THE THINKER LOVES HIS
ENEMY. —Make it a rule never to withhold or con-
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THE DAWN OF DAY. 2QI
ceal from yourself anything that may be thought
against your own thoughts. Vow it! This is the
essential requirement of honest thinking. You must
undertake such a campaign against yourself every
day. A victory and a conquered position are no
longer your concern, but that of truth—and your
defeat also is no longer your concern!
371-
The Evil of Strength. —Violence as the
outcome of passion, for example, of rage, must be
understood from the physiological point of view as
an attempt to avoid an imminent fit of suffocation.
Innumerable acts arising from animal spirits and
vented upon others are simply outlets for getting
rid of sudden congestion by a violent muscular
exertion: and perhaps the entire " evil of strength"
must be considered from this point of view. (This
evil of strength wounds others unintentionally—it
must find an outlet somewhere; while the evil of
weakness wishes to wound and to see signs of suf-
fering. )
372.
To the Credit of the Connoisseur. —As
soon as some one who is no connoisseur begins to
pose as a judge we should remonstrate, whether
it is a male or female whipper-snapper. En-
thusiasm or delight in a thing or a human being
is not an argument; neither is repugnance or
hatred.
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292 THE DAWN OF DAY.
373-
Treacherous Blame. —" He has no know-
ledge of men" means in the mouth of some " He
does not know what baseness is"; and in the
mouths of others, " He does not know the excep-
tion and knows only too well what baseness means. "
374-
The Value of Sacrifice. —The more the
rights of states and princes are questioned as to their
right to sacrifice the individual (for example, in the
administration of justice, conscription, etc. ), the more
will the value of self-sacrifice rise.
375-
Speaking too distinctly. —There are several
reasons why we articulate our words too distinctly:
in the first place, from distrust of ourselves when
using a new and unpractised language; secondly,
when we distrust others on account of their stupid-
ity or their slowness of comprehension. The same
remark applies to intellectual matters: our com-
munications are sometimes too distinct, too painful,
because if it were otherwise those to whom we
communicate our ideas would not understand us.
Consequently the perfect and easy style is only
permissible when addressing a perfect audience.
376.
Plenty of Sleep. —What can we do to arouse
ourselves when we are weary and tired of our ego?
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THE DAWN OF DAY. 293
Some recommend the gambling table, others Chris-
tianity, and others again electricity. But the best
remedy, my dear hypochondriac, is, and always will
be, plenty of sleep in both the literal and figurative
sense of the word. Thus another morning will at
length dawn upon us. The knack of worldly wisdom
is to find the proper time for applying this remedy
in both its forms.
377-
What we may conclude from fantastic
Ideals. —Where our deficiencies are, there also is
our enthusiasm. The enthusiastic principle "love
your enemies " had to be invented by the Jews, the
best haters that ever existed; and the finest glori-
fications of chastity have been written by those who
in their youth led dissolute and licentious lives.
378.
Clean Hands and clean Walls. —Do not
paint the picture either of God or the devil on your
walls: for in so doing you will spoil your walls as
well as your surroundings. *
379-
Probable and Improbable. — A woman
secretly loved a man, raised him far above her, and
* That is, do not speak either of God or the devil. The
German proverb runs : "Man soil den Teufel nicht an die
Wand malen, sonst kommt er. "—Tr.
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294 THE DAWN OF DAY.
said to herself hundreds of times in her inmost heart,
"If a man like that were to love me, I should look
upon it as a condescension before which I should
have to humble myself in the dust. "—And the man
entertained the same feelings towards the woman,
and in his inmost heart he felt the very same
thought. When at last both their tongues were
loosened, and they had communicated their most
secret thoughts to one another, a deep and medita-
tive silence ensued. Then the woman said in a cold
voice: "The thing is quite clear! We are neither
of us that which we loved! If you are what you
say you are, and nothing more, then I have humbled
myself in vain and loved you; the demon misled me
as well as you. " This very probable story never
happens—and why doesn't it?
380.
Tested Advice. —Of all the means of consola-
tion there is none so efficacious for him who has
need of it as the declaration that in his case no
consolation can be given. This implies such a dis-
tinction that the afflicted person will at once raise
his head again.
381.
Knowing one's "Individuality. "—We too
often forget that in the eyes of strangers who see
us for the first time we are quite different beings
from what we consider ourselves to be—in most
cases we exhibit nothing more than one particular
characteristic which catches the eye of the stranger,
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THE DAWN OF DAY. 295
and determines the impression we make on him.
Thus the most peaceful and fair-minded man, if
only he has a big moustache, may, as it were, re-
pose in the shade of this moustache; for ordinary
eyes will merely see in him the accessory of a big
moustache, that is to say, a military, irascible, and
occasionally violent character, and wiTTact accord-
ingly.
382.
Gardeners and Gardens. —Wet dreary days,
loneliness, and unkind words give rise within us
to conclusions like fungi; some morning we find
that they have grown up in front of us we know
not whence, and there they scowl at us, sullen and
morose. Woe to the thinker who instead of being
the gardener of his plants, is merely the soil from
which they spring.
383-
The Comedy of Pity. —However much we
may feel for an unhappy friend of ours, we always
act with a certain amount of insincerity in his
presence: we refrain from telling him everything
we think, and how we think it, with all the circum-
spection of a doctor standing by the bedside of a
patient who is seriously ill.
384.
CURIOUS SAINTs. — There are pusillanimous
people who have a bad opinion of everything that
r
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296 THE DAWN OF DAY.
is best in their works, and who at the same time
interpret and comment upon them badly: but also,
by a kind of revenge, they entertain a bad opinion
of the sympathy of others, and do not believe in
sympathy at all; they are ashamed to appear to
be carried away from themselves, and feel a defiant
comfort in appearing or becoming ridiculous. —
States of soul like these are to be found in melan-
choly artists.
385-
Vain People. —We are like shop-windows,
where we ourselves are constantly arranging, con-
cealing, or setting in the foreground those supposed
qualities which others attribute to us—in order to
deceive ourselves.
386.
Pathetic and Naive. —It may be a very
vulgar habit to let no opportunity slip of assuming
a pathetic air for the sake of the enjoyment to be
experienced in imagining the spectator striking his
breast and feeling himself to be small and miser-
able. Consequently it may also be the indication of
a noble mind to make fun of pathetic situations,
and to behave in an undignified manner in them.
The old, warlike nobility of France possessed that
kind of distinction and delicacy.
387-
A Reflection before Marriage. —Suppos-
ing she loved me, what a burden she would be to
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THE DAWN OF DAY. 297
me in the long run! and supposing that she did
not love me, what a much greater burden she would
be to me in the long run! We have to choose
between two different kinds of burdens; therefore
let us marry.
388.
Rascality with a good Conscience. —It is
exceedingly annoying to be cheated in small
bargains in certain countries,—in the Tyrol, for
example,—because, in addition to the bad bargain,
we are compelled to accept the evil countenance
and coarse greediness of the man who has cheated
us, together with his bad conscience and his hostile
feeling against us. At Venice, on the other hand,
the cheater is highly delighted at his successful
fraud, and is not in the least angry with the man
he has cheated—nay, he is even inclined to show
him some kindness, and above all to have a hearty
laugh with him if he likes. —In short, one must
possess wit and a good conscience in order to be
a knave, and this will almost reconcile the cheated
one with the cheat. *
389.
Rather too Awkward. —Good people who
are too awkward to be polite and amiable promptly
endeavour to return an act of politeness by an
important service, or by a contribution beyond their
power. It is touching to see them timidly pro-
* The case of that other witty Venetian, Casanova. —Tr.
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298 THE DAWN OF DAY.
ducing their gold coins when others have offered
them their gilded coppers!
390.
Hiding one's Intelligence. —When we sur-
prise some one in the act of hiding his intelligence
from us we call him evil: the more so if we sus-
pect that it is his civility and benevolence which
have induced him to do so.
391-
The Evil Moment. —Lively dispositions only
lie for a moment: after this they have deceived
themselves, and are convinced and honest.
392.
The Condition of Politeness. —Politeness
is a very good thing, and really one of the four
chief virtues (although the last), but in order that
it may not result in our becoming tiresome to one
another the person with whom I have to deal must
be either one degree more or less polite than I—
otherwise we should never get on, and the ointment
would not only anoint us, but would cement us
together.
393-
Dangerous Virtues. —" He forgets nothing,
but forgives everything"—wherefore he shall be
doubly detested, for he causes us double shame by
his memory and his magnanimity.
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THE DAWN OF DAY. 299
394-
Without Vanity. —Passionate people think
little of what others may think; their state of mind
raises them above vanity.
395-
Contemplation. —In some thinkers the con-
templative state peculiar to a thinker is always the
consequence of a state of fear, in others always of
desire. In the former, contemplation thus seems
allied to the feeling of security, in the latter to the
feeling of surfeit—in other words, the former are
spirited in their mood, the latter over-satiated and
neutral.
396.
HUNTING. —The one is hunting for agreeable
truths, the other for disagreeable ones. But even
the former takes greater pleasure in the hunt than
in the booty.
397-
Education. —Education is a continuation of
procreation, and very often a kind of supplementary
varnishing of it.
398.
HOW TO RECOGNISE THE CHOLERIC. —Of two
persons who are struggling together, or who love
and admire one another, the more choleric will
always be at a disadvantage. The same remark
applies to two nations.
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300 THE DAWN OF DAY.
399-
Self-Excuse. — Many men have the best
possible right to act in this or that way; but as
soon as they begin to excuse their actions we no
longer believe that they are right—and we are
mistaken.
400.
Moral Pampering.
—There are tender, moral
natures who are ashamed of all their successes and
feel remorse after every failure.
401.
Dangerous Unlearning. —We begin by un-
learning to love others, and end by finding nothing
lovable in ourselves.
402.
Another form of Toleration. —"To remain
a minute too long on red-hot coals and to be burnt
a little does no harm either to men or to chestnuts.
The slight bitterness and hardness makes the kernel
all the sweeter. "—Yes, this is your opinion, you
who enjoy the taste! You sublime cannibals!
403-
Different Pride. —Women turn pale at the
thought that their lover may not be worthy of them;
Men turn pale at the thought that they may not
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THE DAWN OF DAY. 301
be worthy of the women they love. I speak of per-
fect women, perfect men. Such men, who are self-re-
liant and conscious of power at ordinary times, grow
diffident and doubtful of themselves when under
the influence of a strong passion. Such women,
on the other hand, though always looking upon
themselves as the weak and devoted sex, become
proud and conscious of their power in the great
exception of passion,—they ask: "Who then is
worthy of me? "
404.
When we seldom do Justice. —Certain men
are unable to feel enthusiasm for a great and good
cause without committing a great injustice in some
other quarter: this is their kind of morality.
405.
Luxury. —The love of luxury is rooted in the
depths of a man's heart: it shows that the super-
fluous and immoderate is the sea wherein his soul
prefers to float.
406.
To Immortalise. —Let him who wishes to kill
his opponent first consider whether by doing so he
will not immortalise him in himself.
407.
Against our Character. —If the truth which
we have to utter goes against our character—as
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302
THE DAWN OF DAY.
very often happens—we behave as if we had uttered
a clumsy falsehood, and thus rouse suspicion.
408.
WHERE A GREAT DEAL OF GENTLENESS IS
NEEDED. -Many natures have only the choice of
being either public evil-doers or secret sorrow-
bearers.
409.
İLLNESS. —Among illness are to be reckoned the
premature approach of old age, ugliness, and pessi-
mistic opinions—three things that always go to-
gether.
410.
TIMID PEOPLE. —It is the awkward and timid
people who easily become murderers : they do not
understand slight but sufficient means of defence
or revenge, and their hatred, owing to their lack of
intelligence and presence of mind, can conceive of
no other expedient than destruction.
411.
WITHOUT HATRED. —You wish to bid farewell
to your passion ? Very well, but do so without
hatred against it! Otherwise you have a second
passion. —The soul of the Christian who has freed
himself from sin is generally ruined afterwards by
the hatred for sin. Just look at the faces of the
great Christians! they are the faces of great haters.
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THE DAWN OF DAY. 303
412.
Ingenious and Narrow-Minded. —He can
appreciate nothing beyond himself, and when he
wishes to appreciate other people he must always
begin by transforming them into himself. In this,
however, he is ingenious.
413-
Private and Public Accusers. — Watch
closely the accuser and inquirer,—for he reveals
his true character; and it is not rare for this to be
a worse character than that of the victim whose
crime he is investigating. The accuser believes in
all innocence that the opponent of a crime and
criminal must be by nature of good character, or
at least must appear as such—and this is why he
lets himself go, that is to say, he drops his mask.
414.
Voluntary Blindness. —There is a kind of
enthusiastic and extreme devotion to a person or a
party which reveals that in our inmost hearts we feel
ourselves superior to this person or party, and for
this reason we feel indignant with ourselves. We
blind ourselves, as it were, of our own free will to
punish our eyes for having seen too much.
415.
Remedium Amoris That old radical remedy
for love is now in most cases as effective as it
always was: love in return.
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304 THE DAWN OF DAY.
416.
Where is our worst Enemy ? —He who can
look after his own affairs well, and knows that he
can do so, is as a rule conciliatory towards his
adversary. But to believe that we have right on
our side, and to know that we are incapable of
defending it—this gives rise to a fierce and im-
placable hatred against the opponent of our cause.
Let every one judge accordingly where his worst
enemies are to be sought.
417.
The Limits of all Humility. —Many men
may certainly have attained that humility which
says credo quia absurdum est, and sacrifices its
reason; but, so far as I know, not one has attained
to that humility which after all is only one step
further, and which says credo quia absurdus sum.
418.
Acting the Truth. —Many a man is truthful,
not because he would be ashamed to exhibit hypo-
critical feelings, but because he would not succeed
very well in inducing others to believe in his
hypocrisy. In a word, he has no confidence in
his talent as an actor, and therefore prefers honestly
to act the truth.
419.
Courage in a Party. —The poor sheep say to
their bell-wether: "Only lead us, and we shall never
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THE DAWN OF DAY. 305
lack courage to follow you. " But the poorbell-wether
thinks in his heart: "Only follow me, and I shall
never lack courage to lead you. "
420.
Cunning of the Victim. —What a sad cun-
ning there is in the wish to deceive ourselves with
respect to the person for whom we have sacrificed
ourselves,when we give him an opportunity in which
he must appear to us as we should wish him to be!
421.
THROUGH OTHERS. —There are men who do
not wish to be seen except through the eyes of
others: a wish which implies a great deal of
wisdom.
422.
Making Others Happy. —Why is the fact of
our making others happy more gratifying to us
than all other pleasures? —Because in so doing
we gratify fifty cravings at one time. Taken
separately they would, perhaps, be very small
pleasures; but when put into one hand, that
hand will be fuller than ever before—and the heart
also.
U
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## p. 307 (#413) ############################################
BOOK V.
423.
In the Great Silence. —Here is the sea, here
may we forget the town. It is true that its bells
are still ringing the Angelus—that solemn and
foolish yet sweet sound at the junction between
day and night,—but one moment more! now all
is silent. Yonder lies the ocean, pale and brilliant;
it cannot speak. The sky is glistening with its
eternal mute evening hues, red, yellow, and green:
it cannot speak. The small cliffs and rocks which
stretch out into the sea as if each one of them were
endeavouring to find the loneliest spot—they too
are dumb. Beautiful and awful indeed is this vast
silence, which so suddenly overcomes us and makes
our heart swell.
Alas! what deceit lies in this dumb beauty!
How well could it speak, and how evilly, too, if it
wished! Its tongue, tied up and fastened, and its
face of suffering happiness—all this is but malice,
mocking at your sympathy: be it so! I do not
feel ashamed to be the plaything of such powers!
but I pity thee, oh nature, because thou must be
silent, even though it be only malice that binds
thy tongue: nay, I pity thee for the sake of thy
malice 1
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308 THE DAWN OF DAY.
Alas! the silence deepens, and once again my
heart swells within me: it is startled by a fresh truth
—it, too,is dumb; it likewise sneers when the mouth
calls out something to this beauty; it also enjoys
the sweet malice of its silence. I come to hate
speaking; yea, even thinking. Behind every word
I utter do I not hear the laughter of error, imagina-
tion, and insanity? Must I not laugh at my pity
and mock my own mockery? Oh sea, oh evening,
ye are bad teachers! Ye teach man how to cease
to be a man. Is he to give himself up to you?
Shall he become asyou now are,pale, brilliant,dumb,
immense, reposing calmly upon himself? —exalted
above himself?
424.
For whom the Truth Exists. —Up to the
present time errors have been the power most fruit-
ful in consolations: we now expect the same effects
from accepted truths, and we have been waiting
rather too long for them. What if these truths could
not give us this consolation we are looking for?
Would that be an argument against them? What
have these truths in common with the sick condition
of suffering and degenerate men that they should be
useful to them? It is, of course, no proof against
the truth of a plant when it is clearly established
that it does not contribute in any way to the re-
covery of sick people. Formerly, however, people
were so convinced that man was the ultimate end
of nature that they believed that knowledge could
reveal nothing that was not beneficial and useful to
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THE DAWN OF DAY. 309
man—nay, there could not, should not be, any other
things in existence.
Perhaps all this leads to the conclusion that truth
as an entity and a coherent whole exists only for
those natures who, like Aristotle, are at once power-
ful and harmless, joyous and peaceful: just as none
but these would be in a position to seek such truths;
for the others seek remedies for themselves—-how-
ever proud they may be of their intellect and its
freedom, they do not seek truth. Hence it comes
about that these others take no real joy in science,
but reproach it for its coldness, dryness, and in-
humanity. This is the judgment of sick people
about the games of the healthy. —Even the Greek
gods were unable to administer consolation; and
when at length the entire Greek world fell ill, this
was a reason for the destruction of such gods.
425.
We Gods IN Exile. —Owing to errors regard-
ing their descent, their uniqueness, their mission,
and by claims based upon these errors, men have
again and again "surpassed themselves"; but
through these same errors the world has been filled
with unspeakable suffering, mutual persecution,
suspicion, misunderstanding, and an even greater
amount of individual misery. Men have become
suffering creatures in consequence of their morals,
and the sum-total of what they have obtained by
those morals is simply the feeling that they are far
too good and great for this world, and that they are
enjoying merely a transitory existence on it. As
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3IO THE DAWN OF DAY.
yet the "proud sufferer" is the highest type of
mankind.
426.
The Colour-Blindness of Thinkers. —
How differently from us the Greeks must have
viewed nature, since, as we cannot help admitting,
they were quite colour-blind in regard to blue and
green, believing the former to be a deeper brown,and
the latter to be yellow. Thus, for instance, they
used the same word to describe the colour of dark
hair, of the corn-flower, and the southern sea; and
again they employed exactly the same expression
for the colour of the greenest herbs, the human skin,
honey, and yellow raisins: whence it follows that
their greatest painters reproduced the world they
lived in only in black, white, red, and yellow. How
different and how much nearer to mankind, there-
fore, must nature have seemed to them, since in their
eyes the tints of mankind predominated also in
nature, and nature was, as it were, floating in the
coloured ether of humanity! (blue and green more
than anything else dehumanise nature). It is this
defectwhich developed the playful facility that char-
acterised the Greeks of seeing the phenomena of
nature as gods and demi-gods—that is to say, as
human forms.
Let this, however, merely serve as a simile for
another supposition. Every thinker paints his world
and the things that surround him in fewer colours
than really exist, and he is blind to individual
colours. This is something more than a mere
deficiency. Thanks to this nearer approach and
## p. 311 (#417) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY. 311
simplification, he imagines he sees in things those
harmonies of colours which possess a great charm,
and may greatly enrich nature. Perhaps, indeed,
it was in this way that men first learnt to take de-
light in viewing existence, owing to its being first of
all presented to them in one or two shades, and con-
sequently harmonised. They practised these few
shades, so to speak, before they could pass on to
any more. And even now certain individuals en-
deavour to get rid of a partial colour-blindness that
they may obtain a richer faculty of sight and dis-
cernment, in the course of which they find that they
not only discover new pleasures, but are also obliged
to lose and give up some of their former ones.
427.
The Embellishment of Science. —In the
same way that the feeling that " nature is ugly, wild,
tedious—we must embellish it {embellir la nature)"
—brought about rococo horticulture, so does the
view that " science is ugly, difficult, dry, dreary and
weary, we must embellish it," invariably gives rise
to something called philosophy. This philosophy
sets out to do what all art and poetry endeavour
to do, viz. , giving amusement above all else; but it
wishes to do this, in conformity with its hereditary
pride, in a higher and more sublime fashion before
an audience of superior intellects. It is no small
ambition to create for these intellects a kind of
. horticulture, the principal charm of which—like that
of the usual gardening — is to bring about an
optical illusion (by means of temples, perspective,
## p. 312 (#418) ############################################
312 THE DAWN OF DAY.
grottos, winding walks, and waterfalls, to speak in
similes), exhibiting science in a condensed form and
in all kinds of strange and unexpected illuminations,
infusing into it as much indecision, irrationality,
and dreaminess as will enable us to walk about
in it "as in savage nature," but without trouble
and boredom.
Those who are possessed of this ambition even
dream of making religion superfluous—religion,
which amongmen of former timesserved as the high-
est kind of entertainment. All this is now running
its course, and will one day attain its highest tide.
Even now hostile voices are being raised against
philosophy, exclaiming: "Return to science, to
nature, and the naturalness of science ! " and thus
an age may begin which may discover the most
powerful beauty precisely in the " savage and ugly"
domains of science, just as it is only since the time
of Rousseau that we have discovered the sense for
the beauty of high mountains and deserts.
428.
Two Kinds of Moralists. —To see a law of
nature for the first time, and to see it whole (for
example, the law of gravity or the reflection of light
and sound), and afterwards to explain such a law,
are two different things and concern different classes
of minds. I n the same way, those moralists who ob-
serve and exhibit human laws and habits—moralists
with discriminating ears, noses, and eyes—differ
entirely from those who interpret their observa-
tions. These latter must above all be inventive, and
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THE DAWN OF DAY. 313
must possess an imagination untrammelled by
sagacity and knowledge.
429.
THE NEW PASSION. —Why do we fear and dread
a possible return to barbarism? Is it because it
would make people less happy than they are now?
Certainly not! the barbarians of all ages possessed
more happiness than we do: let us not deceive our-
selves on this point! —but our impulse towards
knowledge is too widely developed to allow us to
value happiness without knowledge, or the happi-
ness of a strong and fixed delusion: it is painful to
us even to imagine such a state of things! Our
restless pursuit of discoveries and divinations has
become for us as attractive and indispensable as
hapless love to the lover, which on no account would
he exchange for indifference,—nay, perhaps we, too,
are hapless lovers! Knowledge within us has de-
veloped into a passion, which does not shrink from
any sacrifice, and at bottom fears nothing but its
own extinction. We sincerely believe that all
humanity, weighed down as it is by the burden of
this passion, are bound to feel more exalted and
comforted than formerly, when they had not yet
overcome the longing for the coarser satisfaction
which accompanies barbarism.
It may be that mankind may perish eventually
from this passion for knowledge! —but even that
does not daunt us. Did Christianity ever shrink
from a similar thought? Are not love and death
brother and sister? Yes, we detest barbarism,—
'
## p. 314 (#420) ############################################
314 THE DAWN OF DAY.
we all prefer that humanity should perish rather
than that knowledge should enter into a stage of
retrogression. And, finally, if mankind does not
perish through some passion it will perish through
some weakness: which would we prefer? This is
the main question. Do we wish its end to be in
fire and light, or in the sands?
430.
tion are making presents, derision, and destruction
—all three being due to a common fundamental
instinct.
357.
MORAL MOSQUITOES. —Those moralists who are
lacking in the love of knowledge, and who are only
acquainted with the pleasure of giving pain, have
the spirit and tediousness of provincials. Their
pastime, as cruel as it is lamentable, is to observe
their neighbour with the greatest possible closeness,
and, unperceived, to place a pin in such position
that he cannot help pricking himself with it. Such
men have preserved something of the wickedness
of schoolboys, who cannot amuse themselves with-
out hunting and torturing either the living or the
dead,
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THE DAWN OF DAY.
287
358.
REASONS AND THEIR UNREASON. —You feel a
dislike for him, and adduce innumerable reasons for
this dislike, but I only believe in your dislike and
not in your reasons! You flatter yourself by ad-
ducing as a rational conclusion, both to yourself and
to me, that which happens to be merely a matter
of instinct.
359.
APPROVING OF SOMETHING. –We approve of
marriage in the first place because we are not yet
acquainted with it, in the second place because
we have accustomed ourselves to it, and in the
third place because we have contracted it—that is
to say, in most cases. And yet nothing has been
proved thereby in favour of the value of marriage
in general.
360.
NO UTILITARIANS. —“ Power which has greatly
suffered both in deed and in thought is better than
powerlessness which only meets with kind treat-
ment”—such was the Greek way of thinking. In
other words, the feeling of power was prized more
highly by them than any mere utility or fair re-
nown.
361.
UGLY IN APPEARANCE. —Moderation appears
to itself to be quite beautiful: it is unaware of the
fact that in the eyes of the immoderate it seems
coarse and insipid, and consequently ugly.
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288
THE DAWN OF DAY.
362.
DIFFERENT IN THEIR HATRED. —There are
men who do not begin to hate until they feel weak
and tired : in other respects they are fair-minded
and superior. Others only begin to hate when they
see an opportunity for revenge: in other respects
they carefully avoid both secret and open wrath,
and overlook it whenever there is any occasion
for it.
363.
MEN OF CHANCE. —It is pure hazard which plays
the essential part in every invention, but most men
do not meet with this hazard.
364.
CHOICE OF ENVIRONMENT. —We should beware
of living in an environment where we are neither able
to maintain a dignified silence nor to express our lof-
tier thoughts, so that only our complaints and needs
and the whole story of our misery are left to be told.
We thus become dissatisfied with ourselves and with
our surroundings, and to the discomfort which brings
about our complaints we add the vexation which
we feel at always being in the position of grumb-
lers. But we should, on the contrary, live in a place
where we should be ashamed to speak of ourselves
and where it would not be necessary to do so. -
Who, however, thinks of such things, or of the choice
in such things? We talk about our “fate,” brace
up our shoulders, and sigh, “Unfortunate Atlas that
I am! ”
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THE DAWN OF DAY.
289
365.
VANITY. –Vanity is the dread of appearing to be
original. Hence it is a lack of pride, but not nec-
essarily a lack of originality.
366.
THE CRIMINAL'S GRIEF. —The criminal who
has been found out does not suffer because of the
crime he has committed, but because of the shame
and annoyance caused him either by some blunder
which he has made or by being deprived of his
habitual element; and keen discernment is neces-
sary to distinguish such cases. Every one who has
had much experience of prisons and reformatories is
astonished at the rare instances of really genuine
“ remorse," and still more so at the longing shown
to return to the old wicked and beloved crime.
367.
ALWAYS APPEARING HAPPY. —When, in the
Greece of the third century, philosophy had become
a matter of public emulation, there were not a
few philosophers who became happy through the
thought that others who lived according to differ-
ent principles, and suffered from them, could not
but feel envious of their happiness. They thought
they could refute these other people with their
happiness better than anything else, and to achieve
this object they were content to appear to be
always happy ; but, following this practice, they
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290
THE DAWN OF DAY.
were obliged to become happy in the long run!
This, for example, was the case of the cynics.
368.
THE CAUSE OF MUCH MISUNDERSTANDING. —
The morality of increasing nervous force is joyful
and restless; the morality of diminishing nervous
force, towards evening, or in invalids and old people,
is passive, calm, patient, and melancholy, and not
rarely even gloomy. In accordance with what we
may possess of one or other of these moralities, we
do not understand that which we lack, and we often
interpret it in others as immorality and weakness.
369.
RAISING ONE'S SELF ABOVE ONE'S OWN Low-
NESS. —“ Proud” fellows they are indeed, those who,
in order to establish a sense of their own dignity and
importance, stand in need of other people whom
they may tyrannise and oppress—those whose
powerlessness and cowardice permits some one to
make sublime and furious gestures in their presence
with impunity, so that they require the baseness of
their surroundings to raise themselves for one short
moment above their own baseness ! -For this pur-
pose one man requires a dog, another a friend, a
third a wife, a fourth a party, a fifth, again, one very
rarely to be met with, a whole age.
370.
TO WHAT EXTENT THE THINKER LOVES HIS
ENEMY. —Make it a rule never to withhold or con-
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THE DAWN OF DAY. 2QI
ceal from yourself anything that may be thought
against your own thoughts. Vow it! This is the
essential requirement of honest thinking. You must
undertake such a campaign against yourself every
day. A victory and a conquered position are no
longer your concern, but that of truth—and your
defeat also is no longer your concern!
371-
The Evil of Strength. —Violence as the
outcome of passion, for example, of rage, must be
understood from the physiological point of view as
an attempt to avoid an imminent fit of suffocation.
Innumerable acts arising from animal spirits and
vented upon others are simply outlets for getting
rid of sudden congestion by a violent muscular
exertion: and perhaps the entire " evil of strength"
must be considered from this point of view. (This
evil of strength wounds others unintentionally—it
must find an outlet somewhere; while the evil of
weakness wishes to wound and to see signs of suf-
fering. )
372.
To the Credit of the Connoisseur. —As
soon as some one who is no connoisseur begins to
pose as a judge we should remonstrate, whether
it is a male or female whipper-snapper. En-
thusiasm or delight in a thing or a human being
is not an argument; neither is repugnance or
hatred.
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292 THE DAWN OF DAY.
373-
Treacherous Blame. —" He has no know-
ledge of men" means in the mouth of some " He
does not know what baseness is"; and in the
mouths of others, " He does not know the excep-
tion and knows only too well what baseness means. "
374-
The Value of Sacrifice. —The more the
rights of states and princes are questioned as to their
right to sacrifice the individual (for example, in the
administration of justice, conscription, etc. ), the more
will the value of self-sacrifice rise.
375-
Speaking too distinctly. —There are several
reasons why we articulate our words too distinctly:
in the first place, from distrust of ourselves when
using a new and unpractised language; secondly,
when we distrust others on account of their stupid-
ity or their slowness of comprehension. The same
remark applies to intellectual matters: our com-
munications are sometimes too distinct, too painful,
because if it were otherwise those to whom we
communicate our ideas would not understand us.
Consequently the perfect and easy style is only
permissible when addressing a perfect audience.
376.
Plenty of Sleep. —What can we do to arouse
ourselves when we are weary and tired of our ego?
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THE DAWN OF DAY. 293
Some recommend the gambling table, others Chris-
tianity, and others again electricity. But the best
remedy, my dear hypochondriac, is, and always will
be, plenty of sleep in both the literal and figurative
sense of the word. Thus another morning will at
length dawn upon us. The knack of worldly wisdom
is to find the proper time for applying this remedy
in both its forms.
377-
What we may conclude from fantastic
Ideals. —Where our deficiencies are, there also is
our enthusiasm. The enthusiastic principle "love
your enemies " had to be invented by the Jews, the
best haters that ever existed; and the finest glori-
fications of chastity have been written by those who
in their youth led dissolute and licentious lives.
378.
Clean Hands and clean Walls. —Do not
paint the picture either of God or the devil on your
walls: for in so doing you will spoil your walls as
well as your surroundings. *
379-
Probable and Improbable. — A woman
secretly loved a man, raised him far above her, and
* That is, do not speak either of God or the devil. The
German proverb runs : "Man soil den Teufel nicht an die
Wand malen, sonst kommt er. "—Tr.
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294 THE DAWN OF DAY.
said to herself hundreds of times in her inmost heart,
"If a man like that were to love me, I should look
upon it as a condescension before which I should
have to humble myself in the dust. "—And the man
entertained the same feelings towards the woman,
and in his inmost heart he felt the very same
thought. When at last both their tongues were
loosened, and they had communicated their most
secret thoughts to one another, a deep and medita-
tive silence ensued. Then the woman said in a cold
voice: "The thing is quite clear! We are neither
of us that which we loved! If you are what you
say you are, and nothing more, then I have humbled
myself in vain and loved you; the demon misled me
as well as you. " This very probable story never
happens—and why doesn't it?
380.
Tested Advice. —Of all the means of consola-
tion there is none so efficacious for him who has
need of it as the declaration that in his case no
consolation can be given. This implies such a dis-
tinction that the afflicted person will at once raise
his head again.
381.
Knowing one's "Individuality. "—We too
often forget that in the eyes of strangers who see
us for the first time we are quite different beings
from what we consider ourselves to be—in most
cases we exhibit nothing more than one particular
characteristic which catches the eye of the stranger,
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THE DAWN OF DAY. 295
and determines the impression we make on him.
Thus the most peaceful and fair-minded man, if
only he has a big moustache, may, as it were, re-
pose in the shade of this moustache; for ordinary
eyes will merely see in him the accessory of a big
moustache, that is to say, a military, irascible, and
occasionally violent character, and wiTTact accord-
ingly.
382.
Gardeners and Gardens. —Wet dreary days,
loneliness, and unkind words give rise within us
to conclusions like fungi; some morning we find
that they have grown up in front of us we know
not whence, and there they scowl at us, sullen and
morose. Woe to the thinker who instead of being
the gardener of his plants, is merely the soil from
which they spring.
383-
The Comedy of Pity. —However much we
may feel for an unhappy friend of ours, we always
act with a certain amount of insincerity in his
presence: we refrain from telling him everything
we think, and how we think it, with all the circum-
spection of a doctor standing by the bedside of a
patient who is seriously ill.
384.
CURIOUS SAINTs. — There are pusillanimous
people who have a bad opinion of everything that
r
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296 THE DAWN OF DAY.
is best in their works, and who at the same time
interpret and comment upon them badly: but also,
by a kind of revenge, they entertain a bad opinion
of the sympathy of others, and do not believe in
sympathy at all; they are ashamed to appear to
be carried away from themselves, and feel a defiant
comfort in appearing or becoming ridiculous. —
States of soul like these are to be found in melan-
choly artists.
385-
Vain People. —We are like shop-windows,
where we ourselves are constantly arranging, con-
cealing, or setting in the foreground those supposed
qualities which others attribute to us—in order to
deceive ourselves.
386.
Pathetic and Naive. —It may be a very
vulgar habit to let no opportunity slip of assuming
a pathetic air for the sake of the enjoyment to be
experienced in imagining the spectator striking his
breast and feeling himself to be small and miser-
able. Consequently it may also be the indication of
a noble mind to make fun of pathetic situations,
and to behave in an undignified manner in them.
The old, warlike nobility of France possessed that
kind of distinction and delicacy.
387-
A Reflection before Marriage. —Suppos-
ing she loved me, what a burden she would be to
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THE DAWN OF DAY. 297
me in the long run! and supposing that she did
not love me, what a much greater burden she would
be to me in the long run! We have to choose
between two different kinds of burdens; therefore
let us marry.
388.
Rascality with a good Conscience. —It is
exceedingly annoying to be cheated in small
bargains in certain countries,—in the Tyrol, for
example,—because, in addition to the bad bargain,
we are compelled to accept the evil countenance
and coarse greediness of the man who has cheated
us, together with his bad conscience and his hostile
feeling against us. At Venice, on the other hand,
the cheater is highly delighted at his successful
fraud, and is not in the least angry with the man
he has cheated—nay, he is even inclined to show
him some kindness, and above all to have a hearty
laugh with him if he likes. —In short, one must
possess wit and a good conscience in order to be
a knave, and this will almost reconcile the cheated
one with the cheat. *
389.
Rather too Awkward. —Good people who
are too awkward to be polite and amiable promptly
endeavour to return an act of politeness by an
important service, or by a contribution beyond their
power. It is touching to see them timidly pro-
* The case of that other witty Venetian, Casanova. —Tr.
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298 THE DAWN OF DAY.
ducing their gold coins when others have offered
them their gilded coppers!
390.
Hiding one's Intelligence. —When we sur-
prise some one in the act of hiding his intelligence
from us we call him evil: the more so if we sus-
pect that it is his civility and benevolence which
have induced him to do so.
391-
The Evil Moment. —Lively dispositions only
lie for a moment: after this they have deceived
themselves, and are convinced and honest.
392.
The Condition of Politeness. —Politeness
is a very good thing, and really one of the four
chief virtues (although the last), but in order that
it may not result in our becoming tiresome to one
another the person with whom I have to deal must
be either one degree more or less polite than I—
otherwise we should never get on, and the ointment
would not only anoint us, but would cement us
together.
393-
Dangerous Virtues. —" He forgets nothing,
but forgives everything"—wherefore he shall be
doubly detested, for he causes us double shame by
his memory and his magnanimity.
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THE DAWN OF DAY. 299
394-
Without Vanity. —Passionate people think
little of what others may think; their state of mind
raises them above vanity.
395-
Contemplation. —In some thinkers the con-
templative state peculiar to a thinker is always the
consequence of a state of fear, in others always of
desire. In the former, contemplation thus seems
allied to the feeling of security, in the latter to the
feeling of surfeit—in other words, the former are
spirited in their mood, the latter over-satiated and
neutral.
396.
HUNTING. —The one is hunting for agreeable
truths, the other for disagreeable ones. But even
the former takes greater pleasure in the hunt than
in the booty.
397-
Education. —Education is a continuation of
procreation, and very often a kind of supplementary
varnishing of it.
398.
HOW TO RECOGNISE THE CHOLERIC. —Of two
persons who are struggling together, or who love
and admire one another, the more choleric will
always be at a disadvantage. The same remark
applies to two nations.
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300 THE DAWN OF DAY.
399-
Self-Excuse. — Many men have the best
possible right to act in this or that way; but as
soon as they begin to excuse their actions we no
longer believe that they are right—and we are
mistaken.
400.
Moral Pampering.
—There are tender, moral
natures who are ashamed of all their successes and
feel remorse after every failure.
401.
Dangerous Unlearning. —We begin by un-
learning to love others, and end by finding nothing
lovable in ourselves.
402.
Another form of Toleration. —"To remain
a minute too long on red-hot coals and to be burnt
a little does no harm either to men or to chestnuts.
The slight bitterness and hardness makes the kernel
all the sweeter. "—Yes, this is your opinion, you
who enjoy the taste! You sublime cannibals!
403-
Different Pride. —Women turn pale at the
thought that their lover may not be worthy of them;
Men turn pale at the thought that they may not
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THE DAWN OF DAY. 301
be worthy of the women they love. I speak of per-
fect women, perfect men. Such men, who are self-re-
liant and conscious of power at ordinary times, grow
diffident and doubtful of themselves when under
the influence of a strong passion. Such women,
on the other hand, though always looking upon
themselves as the weak and devoted sex, become
proud and conscious of their power in the great
exception of passion,—they ask: "Who then is
worthy of me? "
404.
When we seldom do Justice. —Certain men
are unable to feel enthusiasm for a great and good
cause without committing a great injustice in some
other quarter: this is their kind of morality.
405.
Luxury. —The love of luxury is rooted in the
depths of a man's heart: it shows that the super-
fluous and immoderate is the sea wherein his soul
prefers to float.
406.
To Immortalise. —Let him who wishes to kill
his opponent first consider whether by doing so he
will not immortalise him in himself.
407.
Against our Character. —If the truth which
we have to utter goes against our character—as
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302
THE DAWN OF DAY.
very often happens—we behave as if we had uttered
a clumsy falsehood, and thus rouse suspicion.
408.
WHERE A GREAT DEAL OF GENTLENESS IS
NEEDED. -Many natures have only the choice of
being either public evil-doers or secret sorrow-
bearers.
409.
İLLNESS. —Among illness are to be reckoned the
premature approach of old age, ugliness, and pessi-
mistic opinions—three things that always go to-
gether.
410.
TIMID PEOPLE. —It is the awkward and timid
people who easily become murderers : they do not
understand slight but sufficient means of defence
or revenge, and their hatred, owing to their lack of
intelligence and presence of mind, can conceive of
no other expedient than destruction.
411.
WITHOUT HATRED. —You wish to bid farewell
to your passion ? Very well, but do so without
hatred against it! Otherwise you have a second
passion. —The soul of the Christian who has freed
himself from sin is generally ruined afterwards by
the hatred for sin. Just look at the faces of the
great Christians! they are the faces of great haters.
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THE DAWN OF DAY. 303
412.
Ingenious and Narrow-Minded. —He can
appreciate nothing beyond himself, and when he
wishes to appreciate other people he must always
begin by transforming them into himself. In this,
however, he is ingenious.
413-
Private and Public Accusers. — Watch
closely the accuser and inquirer,—for he reveals
his true character; and it is not rare for this to be
a worse character than that of the victim whose
crime he is investigating. The accuser believes in
all innocence that the opponent of a crime and
criminal must be by nature of good character, or
at least must appear as such—and this is why he
lets himself go, that is to say, he drops his mask.
414.
Voluntary Blindness. —There is a kind of
enthusiastic and extreme devotion to a person or a
party which reveals that in our inmost hearts we feel
ourselves superior to this person or party, and for
this reason we feel indignant with ourselves. We
blind ourselves, as it were, of our own free will to
punish our eyes for having seen too much.
415.
Remedium Amoris That old radical remedy
for love is now in most cases as effective as it
always was: love in return.
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304 THE DAWN OF DAY.
416.
Where is our worst Enemy ? —He who can
look after his own affairs well, and knows that he
can do so, is as a rule conciliatory towards his
adversary. But to believe that we have right on
our side, and to know that we are incapable of
defending it—this gives rise to a fierce and im-
placable hatred against the opponent of our cause.
Let every one judge accordingly where his worst
enemies are to be sought.
417.
The Limits of all Humility. —Many men
may certainly have attained that humility which
says credo quia absurdum est, and sacrifices its
reason; but, so far as I know, not one has attained
to that humility which after all is only one step
further, and which says credo quia absurdus sum.
418.
Acting the Truth. —Many a man is truthful,
not because he would be ashamed to exhibit hypo-
critical feelings, but because he would not succeed
very well in inducing others to believe in his
hypocrisy. In a word, he has no confidence in
his talent as an actor, and therefore prefers honestly
to act the truth.
419.
Courage in a Party. —The poor sheep say to
their bell-wether: "Only lead us, and we shall never
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THE DAWN OF DAY. 305
lack courage to follow you. " But the poorbell-wether
thinks in his heart: "Only follow me, and I shall
never lack courage to lead you. "
420.
Cunning of the Victim. —What a sad cun-
ning there is in the wish to deceive ourselves with
respect to the person for whom we have sacrificed
ourselves,when we give him an opportunity in which
he must appear to us as we should wish him to be!
421.
THROUGH OTHERS. —There are men who do
not wish to be seen except through the eyes of
others: a wish which implies a great deal of
wisdom.
422.
Making Others Happy. —Why is the fact of
our making others happy more gratifying to us
than all other pleasures? —Because in so doing
we gratify fifty cravings at one time. Taken
separately they would, perhaps, be very small
pleasures; but when put into one hand, that
hand will be fuller than ever before—and the heart
also.
U
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## p. 307 (#413) ############################################
BOOK V.
423.
In the Great Silence. —Here is the sea, here
may we forget the town. It is true that its bells
are still ringing the Angelus—that solemn and
foolish yet sweet sound at the junction between
day and night,—but one moment more! now all
is silent. Yonder lies the ocean, pale and brilliant;
it cannot speak. The sky is glistening with its
eternal mute evening hues, red, yellow, and green:
it cannot speak. The small cliffs and rocks which
stretch out into the sea as if each one of them were
endeavouring to find the loneliest spot—they too
are dumb. Beautiful and awful indeed is this vast
silence, which so suddenly overcomes us and makes
our heart swell.
Alas! what deceit lies in this dumb beauty!
How well could it speak, and how evilly, too, if it
wished! Its tongue, tied up and fastened, and its
face of suffering happiness—all this is but malice,
mocking at your sympathy: be it so! I do not
feel ashamed to be the plaything of such powers!
but I pity thee, oh nature, because thou must be
silent, even though it be only malice that binds
thy tongue: nay, I pity thee for the sake of thy
malice 1
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308 THE DAWN OF DAY.
Alas! the silence deepens, and once again my
heart swells within me: it is startled by a fresh truth
—it, too,is dumb; it likewise sneers when the mouth
calls out something to this beauty; it also enjoys
the sweet malice of its silence. I come to hate
speaking; yea, even thinking. Behind every word
I utter do I not hear the laughter of error, imagina-
tion, and insanity? Must I not laugh at my pity
and mock my own mockery? Oh sea, oh evening,
ye are bad teachers! Ye teach man how to cease
to be a man. Is he to give himself up to you?
Shall he become asyou now are,pale, brilliant,dumb,
immense, reposing calmly upon himself? —exalted
above himself?
424.
For whom the Truth Exists. —Up to the
present time errors have been the power most fruit-
ful in consolations: we now expect the same effects
from accepted truths, and we have been waiting
rather too long for them. What if these truths could
not give us this consolation we are looking for?
Would that be an argument against them? What
have these truths in common with the sick condition
of suffering and degenerate men that they should be
useful to them? It is, of course, no proof against
the truth of a plant when it is clearly established
that it does not contribute in any way to the re-
covery of sick people. Formerly, however, people
were so convinced that man was the ultimate end
of nature that they believed that knowledge could
reveal nothing that was not beneficial and useful to
## p. 309 (#415) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY. 309
man—nay, there could not, should not be, any other
things in existence.
Perhaps all this leads to the conclusion that truth
as an entity and a coherent whole exists only for
those natures who, like Aristotle, are at once power-
ful and harmless, joyous and peaceful: just as none
but these would be in a position to seek such truths;
for the others seek remedies for themselves—-how-
ever proud they may be of their intellect and its
freedom, they do not seek truth. Hence it comes
about that these others take no real joy in science,
but reproach it for its coldness, dryness, and in-
humanity. This is the judgment of sick people
about the games of the healthy. —Even the Greek
gods were unable to administer consolation; and
when at length the entire Greek world fell ill, this
was a reason for the destruction of such gods.
425.
We Gods IN Exile. —Owing to errors regard-
ing their descent, their uniqueness, their mission,
and by claims based upon these errors, men have
again and again "surpassed themselves"; but
through these same errors the world has been filled
with unspeakable suffering, mutual persecution,
suspicion, misunderstanding, and an even greater
amount of individual misery. Men have become
suffering creatures in consequence of their morals,
and the sum-total of what they have obtained by
those morals is simply the feeling that they are far
too good and great for this world, and that they are
enjoying merely a transitory existence on it. As
## p. 310 (#416) ############################################
3IO THE DAWN OF DAY.
yet the "proud sufferer" is the highest type of
mankind.
426.
The Colour-Blindness of Thinkers. —
How differently from us the Greeks must have
viewed nature, since, as we cannot help admitting,
they were quite colour-blind in regard to blue and
green, believing the former to be a deeper brown,and
the latter to be yellow. Thus, for instance, they
used the same word to describe the colour of dark
hair, of the corn-flower, and the southern sea; and
again they employed exactly the same expression
for the colour of the greenest herbs, the human skin,
honey, and yellow raisins: whence it follows that
their greatest painters reproduced the world they
lived in only in black, white, red, and yellow. How
different and how much nearer to mankind, there-
fore, must nature have seemed to them, since in their
eyes the tints of mankind predominated also in
nature, and nature was, as it were, floating in the
coloured ether of humanity! (blue and green more
than anything else dehumanise nature). It is this
defectwhich developed the playful facility that char-
acterised the Greeks of seeing the phenomena of
nature as gods and demi-gods—that is to say, as
human forms.
Let this, however, merely serve as a simile for
another supposition. Every thinker paints his world
and the things that surround him in fewer colours
than really exist, and he is blind to individual
colours. This is something more than a mere
deficiency. Thanks to this nearer approach and
## p. 311 (#417) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY. 311
simplification, he imagines he sees in things those
harmonies of colours which possess a great charm,
and may greatly enrich nature. Perhaps, indeed,
it was in this way that men first learnt to take de-
light in viewing existence, owing to its being first of
all presented to them in one or two shades, and con-
sequently harmonised. They practised these few
shades, so to speak, before they could pass on to
any more. And even now certain individuals en-
deavour to get rid of a partial colour-blindness that
they may obtain a richer faculty of sight and dis-
cernment, in the course of which they find that they
not only discover new pleasures, but are also obliged
to lose and give up some of their former ones.
427.
The Embellishment of Science. —In the
same way that the feeling that " nature is ugly, wild,
tedious—we must embellish it {embellir la nature)"
—brought about rococo horticulture, so does the
view that " science is ugly, difficult, dry, dreary and
weary, we must embellish it," invariably gives rise
to something called philosophy. This philosophy
sets out to do what all art and poetry endeavour
to do, viz. , giving amusement above all else; but it
wishes to do this, in conformity with its hereditary
pride, in a higher and more sublime fashion before
an audience of superior intellects. It is no small
ambition to create for these intellects a kind of
. horticulture, the principal charm of which—like that
of the usual gardening — is to bring about an
optical illusion (by means of temples, perspective,
## p. 312 (#418) ############################################
312 THE DAWN OF DAY.
grottos, winding walks, and waterfalls, to speak in
similes), exhibiting science in a condensed form and
in all kinds of strange and unexpected illuminations,
infusing into it as much indecision, irrationality,
and dreaminess as will enable us to walk about
in it "as in savage nature," but without trouble
and boredom.
Those who are possessed of this ambition even
dream of making religion superfluous—religion,
which amongmen of former timesserved as the high-
est kind of entertainment. All this is now running
its course, and will one day attain its highest tide.
Even now hostile voices are being raised against
philosophy, exclaiming: "Return to science, to
nature, and the naturalness of science ! " and thus
an age may begin which may discover the most
powerful beauty precisely in the " savage and ugly"
domains of science, just as it is only since the time
of Rousseau that we have discovered the sense for
the beauty of high mountains and deserts.
428.
Two Kinds of Moralists. —To see a law of
nature for the first time, and to see it whole (for
example, the law of gravity or the reflection of light
and sound), and afterwards to explain such a law,
are two different things and concern different classes
of minds. I n the same way, those moralists who ob-
serve and exhibit human laws and habits—moralists
with discriminating ears, noses, and eyes—differ
entirely from those who interpret their observa-
tions. These latter must above all be inventive, and
## p. 313 (#419) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY. 313
must possess an imagination untrammelled by
sagacity and knowledge.
429.
THE NEW PASSION. —Why do we fear and dread
a possible return to barbarism? Is it because it
would make people less happy than they are now?
Certainly not! the barbarians of all ages possessed
more happiness than we do: let us not deceive our-
selves on this point! —but our impulse towards
knowledge is too widely developed to allow us to
value happiness without knowledge, or the happi-
ness of a strong and fixed delusion: it is painful to
us even to imagine such a state of things! Our
restless pursuit of discoveries and divinations has
become for us as attractive and indispensable as
hapless love to the lover, which on no account would
he exchange for indifference,—nay, perhaps we, too,
are hapless lovers! Knowledge within us has de-
veloped into a passion, which does not shrink from
any sacrifice, and at bottom fears nothing but its
own extinction. We sincerely believe that all
humanity, weighed down as it is by the burden of
this passion, are bound to feel more exalted and
comforted than formerly, when they had not yet
overcome the longing for the coarser satisfaction
which accompanies barbarism.
It may be that mankind may perish eventually
from this passion for knowledge! —but even that
does not daunt us. Did Christianity ever shrink
from a similar thought? Are not love and death
brother and sister? Yes, we detest barbarism,—
'
## p. 314 (#420) ############################################
314 THE DAWN OF DAY.
we all prefer that humanity should perish rather
than that knowledge should enter into a stage of
retrogression. And, finally, if mankind does not
perish through some passion it will perish through
some weakness: which would we prefer? This is
the main question. Do we wish its end to be in
fire and light, or in the sands?
430.
