)- In the first-named variety of revenge it is
just fear that strikes the counter-blow; in the second
case it is the absence of fear, which, as has been said,
wishes to manifest itself in the counter-blow.
just fear that strikes the counter-blow; in the second
case it is the absence of fear, which, as has been said,
wishes to manifest itself in the counter-blow.
Nietzsche - v07 - Human All-Too-Human - b
is the repeated question.
So reason is not to be the cause of action, because
reason cannot decide against the better motives?
Thus we call "free will" to our aid. Absolute
discretion is to decide, and a moment is to intervene
when no motive exercises an influence, when the
deed is done as a miracle, resulting from nothing.
This assumed discretion is punished in a case
where no discretion should rule. Reason, which
knows law, prohibition, and command, should have
left no choice, they say, and should have acted
as a constraint and a higher power. Hence the
offender is punished because he makes use of " free
will"—in other words, has acted without motive
where he should have been guided by motives.
But why did he do it? This question must not even
be asked; the deed was done without a "Why? "
without motive, without origin, being a thing pur-
poseless, unreasoned. —However, according to the
above-named preliminary condition of punishability,
such a deed should not be punished at all! More-
over, even this reason for punishing should not
hold good, that in this case something had not been
done, had been omitted, that reason had not been
used at all: for at any rate the omission was unin-
## p. 205 (#227) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 205
tentional,and only intentional omission is considered
punishable. The offender has indeed preferred the
worse to the better motives, but without motive and
purpose: he has indeed failed to apply his reason,
but not exactly with the object of not applying it.
The very assumption made in the case of punish-
able crime, that the criminal intentionally renounced
his reason, is removed by the hypothesis of " free
will. " According to your own principles, you must
not punish, you adherents of the doctrine of free
will! —These principles are, however, nothing but a
very marvellous conceptual mythology, and the hen
that hatched them has brooded on her eggs far away
from all reality.
24.
Judging the Criminal and his Judge. —The
criminal, who knows the whole concatenation of
circumstances, does not consider his act so far
beyond the bounds of order and comprehension
as does his judge. His punishment, however, is
measured by the degree of astonishment that seizes
the judge when he finds the crime incomprehensible.
—If the defending counsel's knowledge of the case
and its previous history extends far enough, the
so-called extenuating circumstances which he duly
pleads must end by absolving his client from all
guilt. Or, to put it more plainly, the advocate
will, step by step, tone down and finally remove
the astonishment of the judge, by forcing every
honest listener to the tacit avowal, " He was bound
to act as he did, and if we punished, we should
be punishing eternal Necessity. "—Measuring the
## p. 206 (#228) ############################################
2C6 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
punishment by the degree of knowledge we possess
or can obtain of the previous history of the crime—
is that not in conflict with all equity?
=5-
Exchange and Equity. —In an exchange, the
only just and honest course would be for either
party to demand only so much as he considers his
commodity to be worth, allowance being made for
trouble in acquisition, scarcity, time spent and so
forth, besides the subjective value. As soon as
you make your price bear a relation to the other's
need, you become a refined sort of robber and ex-
tortioner. — If money is the sole medium of ex-
change, we must remember that a shilling is by
no means the same thing in the hands of a rich
heir, a farm labourer, a merchant, and a university
student. It would be equitable for every one to
receive much or little for his money, according as
he has done much or little to earn it. In practice,
as we all know, the reverse is the case. In the
world of high finance the shilling of the idle rich
man can buy more than that of the poor, industrious
man.
26.
Legal Conditions as Means. —Law, where it
rests upon contracts between equals, holds good
so long as the power of the parties to the contract
remains equal or similar. Wisdom created law
to end all feuds and useless expenditure among
men on an equal footing. Quite as definite an end
is put to this waste, however, when one party has
## p. 207 (#229) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 207
become decidedly weaker than the other. Subjec-
tion enters and law ceases, but the result is the
same as that attained by law. For now it is the
wisdom of the superior which advises to spare the
inferior and not uselessly to squander his strength.
Thus the position of the inferior is often more fav-
ourable than that of the equal. —Hence legal con-
ditions are temporary means counselled by wisdom,
and not ends.
27.
Explanation of Malicious Joy. —Malicious
joy arises when a man consciously finds himself
in evil plight and feels anxiety or remorse or pain.
The misfortune that overtakes B. makes him equal
to A. , and A. is reconciled and no longer envious.
—If A. is prosperous, he still hoards up in his
memory B. 's misfortune as a capital, so as to throw
it in the scale as a counter-weight when he him-
self suffers adversity. In this case too he feels
"malicious joy" {Schadenfreude). The sentiment
of equality thus applies its standard to the domain
of luck and chance. Malicious joy is the commonest
expression of victory and restoration of equality,
even in a higher state of civilisation. This emotion
has only been in existence since the time when
man learnt to look upon another as his equal—in
other words, since the foundation of society.
28.
The Arbitrary Element in the Award of
Punishment. — To most criminals punishment
## p. 208 (#230) ############################################
208 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
comes just as illegitimate children come to women.
They have done the same thing a hundred times
without any bad consequences. Suddenly comes
discovery, and with discovery punishment. Yet
habit should make the deed for which the
criminal is punished appear more excusable, for he
has developed a propensity that is hard to resist
.
Instead of this, the criminal is punished more
severely if the suspicion of habitual crime rests on
him, and habit is made a valid reason against all
extenuation. On the other hand, a model life,
wherein crime shows up in more terrible contrast,
should make the guilt appear more heavy! But
here the custom is to soften the punishment.
Everything is measured not from the standpoint
of the criminal but from that of society and its
losses and dangers. The previous utility of an
individual is weighed against his one nefarious
action, his previous criminality is added to that
recently discovered, and punishment is thus meted
out as highly as possible. But if we thus punish or
reward a man's past (for in the former case the
diminution of punishment is a reward) we ought
to go farther back and punish and reward the
cause of his past—I mean parents, teachers, society.
In many instances we shall then find the judges
somehow or other sharing in the guilt. It is ar-
bitrary to stop at the criminal himself when we
punish his past: if we will not grant the absolute
excusability of every crime, we should stop at each
individual case and probe no farther into the past
—in other words, isolate guilt and not connect it
with previous actions. Otherwise we sin against
## p. 209 (#231) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 209
logic. The teachers of free will should draw the
inevitable conclusion from their doctrine of " free
will" and boldly decree: "No action has a past. "
29.
Envy and her Nobler Sister. — Where J
equality is really recognised and permanently es-
tablished, we see the rise of that propensity that is
generally considered immoral, and would scarcely
be conceivable in a state of nature—envy. The
envious man is susceptible to every sign of in-
dividual superiority to the common herd, and
wishes to depress every one once more to the level
—or raise himself to the superior plane. Hence
arise two different modes of action, which Hesiod
designated good and bad Eris. In the same way,
in a condition of equality there arises indignation
if A. is prosperous above and B. unfortunate beneath
their deserts and equality. These latter, however,
are emotions of nobler natures. They feel the
want of justice and equity in things that are in-
dependent of the arbitrary choice of men—or, in
other words, they desire the equality recognised by
man to be recognised as well by Nature and
chance. They are angry that men of equal merits
should not have equal fortune.
30.
The Envy of the Gods. —" The envy of the
Gods" arises when a despised person sets himself
on an equality with his superior (like Ajax), or is
made equal with him by the favour of fortune
## p. 210 (#232) ############################################
2IO HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
(like Niobe, the too favoured mother). In the
social class system this envy demands that no one
shall have merits above his station, that his pros-
perity shall be on a level with his position, and
especially that his self-consciousness shall not out-
grow the limits of his rank. Often the victorious
general, or the pupil who achieves a masterpiece,
has experienced "the envy of the gods. "
3i-
Vanity as an Anti-Social Aftergrowth. —
if
As men, for the sake of security, have made them-
selves equal in order to found communities, but
as also this conception is imposed by a sort of
constraint and is entirely opposed to the instincts
of the individual, so, the more universal security is
guaranteed, the more do new offshoots of the old
instinct for predominance appear. Such offshoots
appear in the setting-up of class distinctions, in the
demand for professional dignities and privileges,
and, generally speaking, in vanity (manners, dress,
speech, and so forth). So soon as danger to the
community is apparent, the majority, who were
unable to assert their preponderance in a time of
universal peace, once more bring about the condi-
tion of equality, and for the time being the absurd
privileges and vanities disappear. If the community,
however, collapses utterly and anarchy reigns su-
preme, there arises the state of nature: an ab-
solutely ruthless inequality as recounted by Thucy-
dides in the case of Corcyra. Neither a natural
justice nor a natural injustice exists.
## p. 211 (#233) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 211
32.
EQUITy. —Equity is a development of justice,
and arises among such as do not come into conflict
with the communal equality. This more subtle
recognition of the principle of equilibrium is ap-
plied to cases where nothing is prescribed by law.
Equity looks forwards and backwards, its maxim
being, "Do unto others as you would that they
should do unto you. " Aequum means: "This
principle is conformable to our equality; it tones
down even our small differences to an appearance
of equality, and expects us to be indulgent in
cases where we are not compelled to pardon. "
33-
Elements of Revenge. —The word " revenge"
is spoken so quickly that it almost seems as if it
could not contain more than one conceptual and
emotional root. Hence we are still at pains to find
this root. Our economists, in the same way, have
never wearied of scenting a similar unity in the
word "value," and of hunting after the primitive root
idea of value. As if all words were not pockets,
into which this or that or several things have been
stuffed at once! So "revenge" is now one thing,
now another, and sometimes more composite. Let
us first distinguish that defensive counter-blow,
which we strike, almost unconsciously, even at in-
animate objects (such as machinery in motion) that
have hurt us. The notion is to set a check to the
object that has hurt us, by bringing the machine to
## p. 212 (#234) ############################################
212 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
a stop. Sometimes the force of this counter-blow,
in order to attain its object, will have to be strong
enough to shatter the machine. If the machine be
too strong to be disorganised by one man, the latter
will all the same strike the most violent blow he can
—as a sort of last attempt. We behave similarly
towards persons who hurt us, at the immediate sen-
sation of the hurt. If we like to call this an act of
revenge, well and good: but we must remember that
here self-preservation alone has set its cog-wheels
of reason in motion, and that after all we do not
think of the doer of the injury but only of ourselves.
We act without any idea of doing injury in return,
only with a view to getting away safe and sound.
—It needs time to pass in thought from oneself to
one's adversary and ask oneself at what point he is
most vulnerable. This is done in the second variety
of revenge, the preliminary idea of which is to con-
sider the vulnerability and susceptibility of the other.
The intention then is to give pain. On the other
hand, the idea of securing himself against further
injury is in this case so entirely outside the avenger's
horizon, that he almost regularly brings about his
own further injury and often foresees it in cold
blood. If in the first sort of revenge it was the
fear of a second blow that made the counter-blow
as strong as possible, in this case there is an almost
complete indifference to what one's adversary will
do: the strength of the counter-blow is only deter-
mined by what he has already done to us. Then
what has he done? What profit is it to us if he
is now suffering, after we have suffered through
him? This is a case of readjustment, whereas the
## p. 213 (#235) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 213
first act of revenge only serves the purpose of self-
preservation. It may be that through our adver-
sary we have lost property, rank, friends, children
—these losses are not recovered by revenge, the
readjustment only concerns a subsidiary loss which
is added to all the other losses. The revenge of
readjustment does not preserve one from further
injury, it does not make good the injury already
suffered—except in one case. If our honour has
suffered through our adversary, revenge can restore
it. But in any case honour has suffered an injury
if intentional harm has been done us, because our
adversary proved thereby that he was not afraid of
us. By revenge we prove that we are not afraid of
him either, and herein lies the settlement, the read-
justment. (The intention of showing their complete
lack of fear goes so far in some people that the
dangers of revenge—loss of health or life or other
losses—are in their eyes an indispensable condition
of every vengeful act. Hence they practise the duel,
although the law also offers them aid in obtaining
satisfaction for what they have suffered. They are
not satisfied with a safe means of recovering their
honour, because this would not prove their fearless-
ness. )—In the first-named variety of revenge it is
just fear that strikes the counter-blow; in the second
case it is the absence of fear, which, as has been said,
wishes to manifest itself in the counter-blow. —Thus
nothing appears more different than the motives of
the two courses of action which are designated by the
one word "revenge. " Yet it often happens that the
avenger is not precisely certain as to what really
prompted his deed: perhaps he struck the counter-
## p. 213 (#236) ############################################
212
HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
a stop. Sometimes the force of this counter-blow,
in order to attain its object, will have to be strong
enough to shatter the machine. If the machine be
too strong to be disorganised by one man, the latter
will all the same strike the most violent blow he can
—as a sort of last attempt. We behave similarly
towards persons who hurt us, at the immediate sen-
sation of the hurt. If we like to call this an act of
revenge, well and good: but we must remember that
here self-preservation alone has set its cog-wheels
of reason in motion, and that after all we do not
think of the doer of the injury but only of ourselves.
We act without any idea of doing injury in return,
only with a view to getting away safe and sound.
- It needs time to pass in thought from oneself to
one's adversary and ask oneself at what point he is
most vulnerable. This is done in the second variety
of revenge, the preliminary idea of which is to con-
sider the vulnerability and susceptibility of the other.
The intention then is to give pain. On the other
hand, the idea of securing himself against further
injury is in this case so entirely outside the avenger's
horizon, that he almost regularly brings about his
own further injury and often foresees it in cold
blood. If in the first sort of revenge it was the
fear of a second blow that made the counter-blow
as strong as possible, in this case there is an almost
complete indifference to what one's adversary will
do: the strength of the counter-blow is only deter-
mined by what he has already done to us. Then
what has he done? What profit is it to us if he
is now suffering, after we have suffered through
him? This is a case of readjustment, whereas the
## p. 213 (#237) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW.
213
first act of revenge only serves the purpose of self-
preservation. It may be that through our adver-
sary we have lost property, rank, friends, children
—these losses are not recovered by revenge, the
readjustment only concerns a subsidiary loss which
is added to all the other losses. The revenge of
readjustment does not preserve one from further
injury, it does not make good the injury already
suffered—except in one case. If our honour has
suffered through our adversary, revenge can restore
it. But in any case honour has suffered an injury
if intentional harm has been done us, because our
adversary proved thereby that he was not afraid of
us. By revenge we prove that we are not afraid of
him either, and herein lies the settlement, the read-
justment. (The intention of showing their complete
lack of fear goes so far in some people that the
dangers of revenge-loss of health or life or other
losses—are in their eyes an indispensable condition
of every vengeful act. Hence they practise the duel,
although the law also offers them aid in obtaining
satisfaction for what they have suffered. They are
not satisfied with a safe means of recovering their
honour, because this would not prove their fearless-
ness. )—In the first-named variety of revenge it is
just fear that strikes the counter-blow; in the second
case it is the absence of fear, which, as has been said,
wishes to manifest itself in the counter-blow. —Thus
nothing appears more different than the motives of
the two courses of action which are designated by the
one word “revenge. " Yet it often happens that the
avenger is not precisely certain as to what really
prompted his deed : perhaps he struck the counter-
## p. 213 (#238) ############################################
212
HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
a stop. Sometimes the force of this counter-blow,
in order to attain its object, will have to be strong
enough to shatter the machine. If the machine be
too strong to be disorganised by one man, the latter
will all the same strike the most violent blow he can
-as a sort of last attempt. We behave similarly
towards persons who hurt us, at the immediate sen-
sation of the hurt. If we like to call this an act of
revenge, well and good: but we must remember that
here self-preservation alone has set its cog-wheels
of reason in motion, and that after all we do not
think of the doer of the injury but only of ourselves.
We act without any idea of doing injury in return,
only with a view to getting away safe and sound.
-It needs time to pass in thought from oneself to
one's adversary and ask oneself at what point he is
most vulnerable. This is done in the second variety
of revenge, the preliminary idea of which is to con-
sider the vulnerability and susceptibility of the other.
The intention then is to give pain. On the other
hand, the idea of securing himself against further
injury is in this case so entirely outside the avenger's
horizon, that he almost regularly brings about his
own further injury and often foresees it in cold
blood. If in the first sort of revenge it was the
fear of a second blow that made the counter-blow
as strong as possible, in this case there is an almost
complete indifference to what one's adversary will
do: the strength of the counter-blow is only deter-
mined by what he has already done to us. Then
what has he done? What profit is it to us if he
is now suffering, after we have suffered through
him? This is a case of readjustment, whereas the
## p. 213 (#239) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW.
213
first act of revenge only serves the purpose of self-
preservation. It may be that through our adver-
sary we have lost property, rank, friends, children
—these losses are not recovered by revenge, the
readjustment only concerns a subsidiary loss which
is added to all the other losses. The revenge of
readjustment does not preserve one from further
injury, it does not make good the injury already
suffered-except in one case. If our honour has
suffered through our adversary, revenge can restore
it. But in any case honour has suffered an injury
if intentional harm has been done us, because our
adversary proved thereby that he was not afraid of
us. By revenge we prove that we are not afraid of
him either, and herein lies the settlement, the read-
justment. (The intention of showing their complete
lack of fear goes so far in some people that the
dangers of revenge-loss of health or life or other
losses—are in their eyes an indispensable condition
of every vengeful act. Hence they practise the duel,
although the law also offers them aid in obtaining
satisfaction for what they have suffered. They are
not satisfied with a safe means of recovering their
honour, because this would not prove their fearless-
ness.
)- In the first-named variety of revenge it is
just fear that strikes the counter-blow; in the second
case it is the absence of fear, which, as has been said,
wishes to manifest itself in the counter-blow. Thus
nothing appears more different than the motives of
the two courses of action which are designated by the
one word “revenge. ” Yet it often happens that the
avenger is not precisely certain as to what really
prompted his deed : perhaps he struck the counter-
## p. 213 (#240) ############################################
212
HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
a stop. Sometimes the force of this counter-blow,
in order to attain its object, will have to be strong
enough to shatter the machine. If the machine be
too strong to be disorganised by one man, the latter
will all the same strike the most violent blow he can
-as a sort of last attempt. We behave similarly
towards persons who hurt us, at the immediate sen-
sation of the hurt. If we like to call this an act of
revenge, well and good: but we must remember that
here self-preservation alone has set its cog-wheels
of reason in motion, and that after all we do not
think of the doer of the injury but only of ourselves.
We act without any idea of doing injury in return,
only with a view to getting away safe and sound.
-It needs time to pass in thought from oneself to
one's adversary and ask oneself at what point he is
most vulnerable. This is done in the second variety
of revenge, the preliminary idea of which is to con-
sider the vulnerability and susceptibility of the other.
The intention then is to give pain. On the other
hand, the idea of securing himself against further
injury is in this case so entirely outside the avenger's
horizon, that he almost regularly brings about his
own further injury and often foresees it in cold
blood. If in the first sort of revenge it was the
fear of a second blow that made the counter-blow
as strong as possible, in this case there is an almost
complete indifference to what one's adversary will
do: the strength of the counter-blow is only deter-
mined by what he has already done to us. Then
what has he done? What profit is it to us if he
is now suffering, after we have suffered through
him? This is a case of readjustment, whereas the
## p. 213 (#241) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW.
213
first act of revenge only serves the purpose of self-
preservation. It may be that through our adver-
sary we have lost property, rank, friends, children
—these losses are not recovered by revenge, the
readjustment only concerns a subsidiary loss which
is added to all the other losses. The revenge of
readjustment does not preserve one from further
injury, it does not make good the injury already
suffered-except in one case. If our honour has
suffered through our adversary, revenge can restore
it. But in any case honour has suffered an injury
if intentional harm has been done us, because our
adversary proved thereby that he was not afraid of
us. By revenge we prove that we are not afraid of
him either, and herein lies the settlement, the read-
justment. (The intention of showing their complete
lack of fear goes so far in some people that the
dangers of revenge-loss of health or life or other
losses—are in their eyes an indispensable condition
of every vengeful act. Hence they practise the duel,
although the law also offers them aid in obtaining
satisfaction for what they have suffered. They are
not satisfied with a safe means of recovering their
honour, because this would not prove their fearless-
ness. )- In the first-named variety of revenge it is
just fear that strikes the counter-blow; in the second
case it is the absence of fear, which, as has been said,
wishes to manifest itself in the counter-blow. —Thus
nothing appears more different than the motives of
the two courses of action which are designated by the
one word “revenge. " Yet it often happens that the
avenger is not precisely certain as to what really
prompted his deed: perhaps he struck the counter-
## p. 213 (#242) ############################################
212
HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
a stop. Sometimes the force of this counter-blow,
in order to attain its object, will have to be strong
enough to shatter the machine. If the machine be
too strong to be disorganised by one man, the latter
will all the same strike the most violent blow he can
-as a sort of last attempt. We behave similarly
towards persons who hurt us, at the immediate sen-
sation of the hurt. If we like to call this an act of
revenge, well and good: but we must remember that
here self-preservation alone has set its cog-wheels
of reason in motion, and that after all we do not
think of the doer of the injury but only of ourselves.
We act without any idea of doing injury in return,
only with a view to getting away safe and sound.
-It needs time to pass in thought from oneself to
one's adversary and ask oneself at what point he is
most vulnerable. This is done in the second variety
of revenge, the preliminary idea of which is to con-
sider the vulnerability and susceptibility of the other.
The intention then is to give pain. On the other
hand, the idea of securing himself against further
injury is in this case so entirely outside the avenger's
horizon, that he almost regularly brings about his
own further injury and often foresees it in cold
blood. If in the first sort of revenge it was the
fear of a second blow that made the counter-blow
as strong as possible, in this case there is an almost
complete indifference to what one's adversary will
do: the strength of the counter-blow is only deter-
mined by what he has already done to us. Then
what has he done? What profit is it to us if he
is now suffering, after we have suffered through
him? This is a case of readjustment, whereas the
## p. 213 (#243) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW.
213
first act of revenge only serves the purpose of self-
preservation. It may be that through our adver-
sary we have lost property, rank, friends, children
—these losses are not recovered by revenge, the
readjustment only concerns a subsidiary loss which
is added to all the other losses. The revenge of
readjustment does not preserve one from further
injury, it does not make good the injury already
suffered-except in one case. If our honour has
suffered through our adversary, revenge can restore
it. But in any case honour has suffered an injury
if intentional harm has been done us, because our
adversary proved thereby that he was not afraid of
us. By revenge we prove that we are not afraid of
him either, and herein lies the settlement, the read-
justment. (The intention of showing their complete
lack of fear goes so far in some people that the
dangers of revenge-loss of health or life or other
losses—are in their eyes an indispensable condition
of every vengeful act. Hence they practise the duel,
although the law also offers them aid in obtaining
satisfaction for what they have suffered. They are
not satisfied with a safe means of recovering their
honour, because this would not prove their fearless-
ness. )- In the first-named variety of revenge it is
just fear that strikes the counter-blow; in the second
case it is the absence of fear, which, as has been said,
wishes to manifest itself in the counter-blow. —Thus
nothing appears more different than the motives of
the two courses of action which are designated by the
one word "revenge. " Yet it often happens that the
avenger is not precisely certain as to what really
prompted his deed : perhaps he struck the counter-
## p. 213 (#244) ############################################
212
HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
a stop. Sometimes the force of this counter-blow,
in order to attain its object, will have to be strong
enough to shatter the machine. If the machine be
too strong to be disorganised by one man, the latter
will all the same strike the most violent blow he can
-as a sort of last attempt. We behave similarly
towards persons who hurt us, at the immediate sen-
sation of the hurt. If we like to call this an act of
revenge, well and good: but we must remember that
here self-preservation alone has set its cog-wheels
of reason in motion, and that after all we do not
think of the doer of the injury but only of ourselves.
We act without any idea of doing injury in return,
only with a view to getting away safe and sound.
-It needs time to pass in thought from oneself to
one's adversary and ask oneself at what point he is
most vulnerable. This is done in the second variety
of revenge, the preliminary idea of which is to con-
sider the vulnerability and susceptibility of the other.
The intention then is to give pain. On the other
hand, the idea of securing himself against further
injury is in this case so entirely outside the avenger's
horizon, that he almost regularly brings about his
own further injury and often foresees it in cold
blood. If in the first sort of revenge it was the
fear of a second blow that made the counter-blow
as strong as possible, in this case there is an almost
complete indifference to what one's adversary will
do: the strength of the counter-blow is only deter-
mined by what he has already done to us. Then
what has he done? What profit is it to us if he
is now suffering, after we have suffered through
him? This is a case of readjustment, whereas the
## p. 213 (#245) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW.
213
first act of revenge only serves the purpose of self-
preservation. It may be that through our adver-
sary we have lost property, rank, friends, children
—these losses are not recovered by revenge, the
readjustment only concerns a subsidiary loss which
is added to all the other losses. The revenge of
readjustment does not preserve one from further
injury, it does not make good the injury already
suffered—except in one case. If our honour has
suffered through our adversary, revenge can restore
it. But in any case honour has suffered an injury
if intentional harm has been done us, because our
adversary proved thereby that he was not afraid of
us. By revenge we prove that we are not afraid of
him either, and herein lies the settlement, the read-
justment. (The intention of showing their complete
lack of fear goes so far in some people that the
dangers of revenge-loss of health or life or other
losses—are in their eyes an indispensable condition
of every vengeful act. Hence they practise the duel,
although the law also offers them aid in obtaining
satisfaction for what they have suffered. They are
not satisfied with a safe means of recovering their
honour, because this would not prove their fearless-
ness. )- In the first-named variety of revenge it is
just fear that strikes the counter-blow; in the second
case it is the absence of fear, which, as has been said,
wishes to manifest itself in the counter-blow. —Thus
nothing appears more different than the motives of
the two courses of action which are designated by the
one word “revenge. " Yet it often happens that the
avenger is not precisely certain as to what really
prompted his deed : perhaps he struck the counter-
## p. 213 (#246) ############################################
212
HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
a stop. Sometimes the force of this counter-blow,
in order to attain its object, will have to be strong
enough to shatter the machine. If the machine be
too strong to be disorganised by one man, the latter
will all the same strike the most violent blow he can
-as a sort of last attempt. We behave similarly
towards persons who hurt us, at the immediate sen-
sation of the hurt. If we like to call this an act of
revenge, well and good: but we must remember that
here self-preservation alone has set its cog-wheels
of reason in motion, and that after all we do not
think of the doer of the injury but only of ourselves.
We act without any idea of doing injury in return,
only with a view to getting away safe and sound,
-It needs time to pass in thought from oneself to
one's adversary and ask oneself at what point he is
most vulnerable. This is done in the second variety
of revenge, the preliminary idea of which is to con-
sider the vulnerability and susceptibility of the other.
The intention then is to give pain. On the other
hand, the idea of securing himself against further
injury is in this case so entirely outside the avenger's
horizon, that he almost regularly brings about his
own further injury and often foresees it in cold
blood. If in the first sort of revenge it was the
fear of a second blow that made the counter-blow
as strong as possible, in this case there is an almost
complete indifference to what one's adversary will
do: the strength of the counter-blow is only deter-
mined by what he has already done to us. Then
what has he done? What profit is it to us if he
is now suffering, after we have suffered through
him? This is a case of readjustment, whereas the
## p. 213 (#247) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW.
213
first act of revenge only serves the purpose of self-
preservation. It may be that through our adver-
sary we have lost property, rank, friends, children
—these losses are not recovered by revenge, the
readjustment only concerns a subsidiary loss which
is added to all the other losses. The revenge of
readjustment does not preserve one from further
injury, it does not make good the injury already
suffered-except in one case. If our honour has
suffered through our adversary, revenge can restore
it. But in any case honour has suffered an injury
if intentional harm has been done us, because our
adversary proved thereby that he was not afraid of
us. By revenge we prove that we are not afraid of
him either, and herein lies the settlement, the read-
justment. (The intention of showing their complete
lack of fear goes so far in some people that the
dangers of revenge-loss of health or life or other
losses-are in their eyes an indispensable condition
of every vengeful act. Hence they practise the duel,
although the law also offers them aid in obtaining
satisfaction for what they have suffered. They are
not satisfied with a safe means of recovering their
honour, because this would not prove their fearless-
ness. )- In the first-named variety of revenge it is
just fear that strikes the counter-blow; in the second
case it is the absence of fear, which, as has been said,
wishes to manifest itself in the counter-blow. —Thus
nothing appears more different than the motives of
the two courses of action which are designated by the
one word “revenge. " Yet it often happens that the
avenger is not precisely certain as to what really
prompted his deed : perhaps he struck the counter-
## p. 213 (#248) ############################################
212
HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
a stop. Sc year and the instinct of self-preservation,
in order to background, when he has time to reflect
enough to roadpoint of wounded honour, he imagines
too strong
avenged himself for the sake of his
will all th is motive
vis motive is in any case more reputable
Las a so: ther. An essential point is whether he
towards our injured in the eyes of others (the
sation of only in the eyes of his offenders: in the
revenge, he will prefer secret, in the
he will prefer secret, in the former open
here self- Accordingly, as he enters strongly or
the soul of the doer and the spectator,
of reason the soul of the doer and t
think of will be more bitter or more tame. If
We act v: . . . . . ly lacking
ly lacking in this sort of imagination, he
ami, with think at all of revenge, as the feeling of
is not present in him, and accordingly
vpounded. In the same way, he will not
venge if he despises the offender and the
most vul evenge
because as objects of his contempt they
of reven
sider the
im honour, and accordingly cannot rob
The int
1. Finally, he will forego revenge in
hand, t
mon case of his loving the offender.
injury i
ie then suffers loss of honour in the
horizoi
I will perhaps become less worthy
own ft
e returned. But even to renounce
e is a sacrifice that love is ready
blood.
fear o
nly object is to avoid hurting the
his would mean hurting oneself
as stro
compl
rt by the sacrifice. Accordingly,
do: t
ge himself, unless he be bereft
minec
1 by contempt or by love for the
'le turns to the law-courts, he
what
rivate individual ; but also, as
is no
him?
man of society, he desires the
## p. 213 (#249) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW.
215
revenge of society upon one who does not respect
it. Thus by legal punishment private honour as
well as that of society is restored—that is to say,
punishment is revenge. Punishment undoubtedly
contains the first-mentioned element of revenge,
in as far as by its means society helps to preserve
itself, and strikes a counter-blow in self-defence.
Punishment desires to prevent further injury, to
scare other offenders. In this way the two elements
of revenge, different as they are, are united in punish-
ment, and this may perhaps tend most of all to
maintain the above-mentioned confusion of ideas,
thanks to which the individual avenger generally
does not know what he really wants.
34.
THE VIRTUES THAT DAMAGE US. -As members
of communities we think we have no right to exercise
certain virtues which afford usgreat honourand some
pleasure as private individuals (for example, indul-
gence and favour towards miscreants of all kinds)-
in short, every mode of action whereby the advantage
of society would suffer through our virtue. No bench
of judges, face to face with its conscience, may per-
mit itself to be gracious. This privilege is reserved
for the king as an individual, and we are glad when
he makes use of it, proving that we should like to be
gracious individually, but not collectively. Society
recognises only the virtues profitable to her, or at
least not injurious to her-virtues like justice, which
are exercised without loss, or, in fact, at compound
interest. The virtues that damage us cannot have
## p. 214 (#250) ############################################
214 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
blow from fear and the instinct of self-preservation,
but in the background, when he has time to reflect
upon the standpoint ofwounded honour, he imagines
that he has avenged himself for the sake of his
honour—this motive is in any case more reputable
than the other. An essential point is whether he
sees his honour injured in the eyes of others (the
world) or only in the eyes of his offenders: in the
latter case he will prefer secret, in the former open
revenge. Accordingly, as he enters strongly or
feebly into the soul of the doer and the spectator,
his revenge will be more bitter or more tame. If
he is entirely lacking in this sort of imagination, he
will not think at all of revenge, as the feeling of
"honour" is not present in him, and accordingly
cannot be wounded. In the same way, he will not
think of revenge if he despises the offender and the
spectator; because as objects of his contempt they
cannot give him honour, and accordingly cannot rob
him of honour. Finally, he will forego revenge in
the not uncommon case of his loving the offender.
It is true that he then suffers loss of honour in the
other's eyes, and will perhaps become less worthy
of having his love returned. But even to renounce
all requital of love is a sacrifice that love is ready
to make when its only object is to avoid hurting the
beloved object: this would mean hurting oneself
more than one is hurt by the sacrifice. —Accordingly,
every one will avenge himself, unless he be bereft
of honour or inspired by contempt or by love for the
offender. Even if he turns to the law-courts, he
desires revenge as a private individual; but also, as
a thoughtful, prudent man of society, he desires the
## p. 215 (#251) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 215
revenge of society upon one who does not respect
it. Thus by legal punishment private honour as
well as that of society is restored—that is to say,
punishment is revenge. Punishment undoubtedly
contains the first-mentioned element of revenge,
in as far as by its means society helps to preserve
itself, and strikes a counter-blow in self-defence.
Punishment desires to prevent further injury, to
scare other offenders. In this way the two elements
of revenge, different as they are, are united in punish-
ment, and this may perhaps tend most of all to
maintain the above-mentioned confusion of ideas,
thanks to which the individual avenger generally
does not know what he really wants.
34-
The Virtues that Damage Us. —As members
of communities we think we have no right to exercise
certain virtues which afford us great honour and some
pleasure as private individuals (for example, indul-
gence and favour towards miscreants of all kinds)—
in short, every mode of action whereby the advantage
of society would suffer through our virtue. No bench
of judges, face to face with its conscience, may per-
mit itself to be gracious. This privilege is reserved
for the king as an individual, and we are glad when
he makes use of it, proving that we should like to be
gracious individually, but not collectively. Society
recognises only the virtues profitable to her, or at
least not injurious to her—virtues like justice, which
are exercised without loss, or, in fact, at compound
interest. The virtues that damage us cannot have
## p. 216 (#252) ############################################
2l6 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
originated in society, because even now opposition
to them arises in every small society that is in the
making. Such virtues are therefore those of men
of unequal standing, invented by the superior indi-
viduals; they are the virtues of rulers, and the idea
underlying them is: "I am mighty enough to put
u£ with an obvious loss; that is a proof of my power. "
Thus they are virtues closely akin to pride.
35-
The Casuistry of Advantage. —There would
be no moral casuistry if there were no casuistry of
advantage. The most free and refined intelligence
is often incapable of choosing between two alterna-
tives in such a way that his choice necessarily in-
volves the greater advantage. In such cases we
choose because we must, and afterwards often feel
a kind of emotional sea-sickness.
36-
Turning Hypocrite. — Every beggar turns
hypocrite, like every one who makes his living out
of indigence, be it personal or public. —The beggar
does not feel want nearly so keenly as he must make
others feel it, if he wishes to make a living by mendi-
cancy.
37-
A Sort of Cult of the Passions. —You
hypochondriacs, you philosophic blind-worms talk
of the formidable nature of human passions, in
order to inveigh against the dreadsomeness of the
## p. 217 (#253) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 217
whole world-structure. As if the passions were
always and everywhere formidable! As if this
sort of terror must always exist in the world! —
Through a carelessness in small matters, through
a deficiency in observation of self and of the ris-
ing generation, you have yourselves allowed your
passions to develop into such unruly monsters that
you are frightened now at the mere mention of the
word "passion "! It rests with you and it rests
with us to divest the passions of their formidable
features and so to dam them that they do not
become devastating floods. —We must not exalt
our errors into eternal fatalities. Rather shall we
honestly endeavour to convert all the passions of
humanity into sources of joy. *
38.
The Sting of Conscience. —The sting of con-
science, like the gnawing of a dog at a stone, is
mere foolishness.
39-
Origin of Rights. —Rights may be traced to
traditions, traditions to momentary agreements. At
some time or other men were mutually content
with the consequences of making an agreement,
and, again, too indolent formally to renew it.
Thus they went on living as if it had constantly
been renewed, and gradually, when oblivion cast its
* The play on Freudenschaften {i. e. pleasure-giving passions)
and Leidenschaften {i. e. pain-giving passions) is often used by
Nietzsche, and is untranslateable. —Tr.
## p.
So reason is not to be the cause of action, because
reason cannot decide against the better motives?
Thus we call "free will" to our aid. Absolute
discretion is to decide, and a moment is to intervene
when no motive exercises an influence, when the
deed is done as a miracle, resulting from nothing.
This assumed discretion is punished in a case
where no discretion should rule. Reason, which
knows law, prohibition, and command, should have
left no choice, they say, and should have acted
as a constraint and a higher power. Hence the
offender is punished because he makes use of " free
will"—in other words, has acted without motive
where he should have been guided by motives.
But why did he do it? This question must not even
be asked; the deed was done without a "Why? "
without motive, without origin, being a thing pur-
poseless, unreasoned. —However, according to the
above-named preliminary condition of punishability,
such a deed should not be punished at all! More-
over, even this reason for punishing should not
hold good, that in this case something had not been
done, had been omitted, that reason had not been
used at all: for at any rate the omission was unin-
## p. 205 (#227) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 205
tentional,and only intentional omission is considered
punishable. The offender has indeed preferred the
worse to the better motives, but without motive and
purpose: he has indeed failed to apply his reason,
but not exactly with the object of not applying it.
The very assumption made in the case of punish-
able crime, that the criminal intentionally renounced
his reason, is removed by the hypothesis of " free
will. " According to your own principles, you must
not punish, you adherents of the doctrine of free
will! —These principles are, however, nothing but a
very marvellous conceptual mythology, and the hen
that hatched them has brooded on her eggs far away
from all reality.
24.
Judging the Criminal and his Judge. —The
criminal, who knows the whole concatenation of
circumstances, does not consider his act so far
beyond the bounds of order and comprehension
as does his judge. His punishment, however, is
measured by the degree of astonishment that seizes
the judge when he finds the crime incomprehensible.
—If the defending counsel's knowledge of the case
and its previous history extends far enough, the
so-called extenuating circumstances which he duly
pleads must end by absolving his client from all
guilt. Or, to put it more plainly, the advocate
will, step by step, tone down and finally remove
the astonishment of the judge, by forcing every
honest listener to the tacit avowal, " He was bound
to act as he did, and if we punished, we should
be punishing eternal Necessity. "—Measuring the
## p. 206 (#228) ############################################
2C6 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
punishment by the degree of knowledge we possess
or can obtain of the previous history of the crime—
is that not in conflict with all equity?
=5-
Exchange and Equity. —In an exchange, the
only just and honest course would be for either
party to demand only so much as he considers his
commodity to be worth, allowance being made for
trouble in acquisition, scarcity, time spent and so
forth, besides the subjective value. As soon as
you make your price bear a relation to the other's
need, you become a refined sort of robber and ex-
tortioner. — If money is the sole medium of ex-
change, we must remember that a shilling is by
no means the same thing in the hands of a rich
heir, a farm labourer, a merchant, and a university
student. It would be equitable for every one to
receive much or little for his money, according as
he has done much or little to earn it. In practice,
as we all know, the reverse is the case. In the
world of high finance the shilling of the idle rich
man can buy more than that of the poor, industrious
man.
26.
Legal Conditions as Means. —Law, where it
rests upon contracts between equals, holds good
so long as the power of the parties to the contract
remains equal or similar. Wisdom created law
to end all feuds and useless expenditure among
men on an equal footing. Quite as definite an end
is put to this waste, however, when one party has
## p. 207 (#229) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 207
become decidedly weaker than the other. Subjec-
tion enters and law ceases, but the result is the
same as that attained by law. For now it is the
wisdom of the superior which advises to spare the
inferior and not uselessly to squander his strength.
Thus the position of the inferior is often more fav-
ourable than that of the equal. —Hence legal con-
ditions are temporary means counselled by wisdom,
and not ends.
27.
Explanation of Malicious Joy. —Malicious
joy arises when a man consciously finds himself
in evil plight and feels anxiety or remorse or pain.
The misfortune that overtakes B. makes him equal
to A. , and A. is reconciled and no longer envious.
—If A. is prosperous, he still hoards up in his
memory B. 's misfortune as a capital, so as to throw
it in the scale as a counter-weight when he him-
self suffers adversity. In this case too he feels
"malicious joy" {Schadenfreude). The sentiment
of equality thus applies its standard to the domain
of luck and chance. Malicious joy is the commonest
expression of victory and restoration of equality,
even in a higher state of civilisation. This emotion
has only been in existence since the time when
man learnt to look upon another as his equal—in
other words, since the foundation of society.
28.
The Arbitrary Element in the Award of
Punishment. — To most criminals punishment
## p. 208 (#230) ############################################
208 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
comes just as illegitimate children come to women.
They have done the same thing a hundred times
without any bad consequences. Suddenly comes
discovery, and with discovery punishment. Yet
habit should make the deed for which the
criminal is punished appear more excusable, for he
has developed a propensity that is hard to resist
.
Instead of this, the criminal is punished more
severely if the suspicion of habitual crime rests on
him, and habit is made a valid reason against all
extenuation. On the other hand, a model life,
wherein crime shows up in more terrible contrast,
should make the guilt appear more heavy! But
here the custom is to soften the punishment.
Everything is measured not from the standpoint
of the criminal but from that of society and its
losses and dangers. The previous utility of an
individual is weighed against his one nefarious
action, his previous criminality is added to that
recently discovered, and punishment is thus meted
out as highly as possible. But if we thus punish or
reward a man's past (for in the former case the
diminution of punishment is a reward) we ought
to go farther back and punish and reward the
cause of his past—I mean parents, teachers, society.
In many instances we shall then find the judges
somehow or other sharing in the guilt. It is ar-
bitrary to stop at the criminal himself when we
punish his past: if we will not grant the absolute
excusability of every crime, we should stop at each
individual case and probe no farther into the past
—in other words, isolate guilt and not connect it
with previous actions. Otherwise we sin against
## p. 209 (#231) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 209
logic. The teachers of free will should draw the
inevitable conclusion from their doctrine of " free
will" and boldly decree: "No action has a past. "
29.
Envy and her Nobler Sister. — Where J
equality is really recognised and permanently es-
tablished, we see the rise of that propensity that is
generally considered immoral, and would scarcely
be conceivable in a state of nature—envy. The
envious man is susceptible to every sign of in-
dividual superiority to the common herd, and
wishes to depress every one once more to the level
—or raise himself to the superior plane. Hence
arise two different modes of action, which Hesiod
designated good and bad Eris. In the same way,
in a condition of equality there arises indignation
if A. is prosperous above and B. unfortunate beneath
their deserts and equality. These latter, however,
are emotions of nobler natures. They feel the
want of justice and equity in things that are in-
dependent of the arbitrary choice of men—or, in
other words, they desire the equality recognised by
man to be recognised as well by Nature and
chance. They are angry that men of equal merits
should not have equal fortune.
30.
The Envy of the Gods. —" The envy of the
Gods" arises when a despised person sets himself
on an equality with his superior (like Ajax), or is
made equal with him by the favour of fortune
## p. 210 (#232) ############################################
2IO HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
(like Niobe, the too favoured mother). In the
social class system this envy demands that no one
shall have merits above his station, that his pros-
perity shall be on a level with his position, and
especially that his self-consciousness shall not out-
grow the limits of his rank. Often the victorious
general, or the pupil who achieves a masterpiece,
has experienced "the envy of the gods. "
3i-
Vanity as an Anti-Social Aftergrowth. —
if
As men, for the sake of security, have made them-
selves equal in order to found communities, but
as also this conception is imposed by a sort of
constraint and is entirely opposed to the instincts
of the individual, so, the more universal security is
guaranteed, the more do new offshoots of the old
instinct for predominance appear. Such offshoots
appear in the setting-up of class distinctions, in the
demand for professional dignities and privileges,
and, generally speaking, in vanity (manners, dress,
speech, and so forth). So soon as danger to the
community is apparent, the majority, who were
unable to assert their preponderance in a time of
universal peace, once more bring about the condi-
tion of equality, and for the time being the absurd
privileges and vanities disappear. If the community,
however, collapses utterly and anarchy reigns su-
preme, there arises the state of nature: an ab-
solutely ruthless inequality as recounted by Thucy-
dides in the case of Corcyra. Neither a natural
justice nor a natural injustice exists.
## p. 211 (#233) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 211
32.
EQUITy. —Equity is a development of justice,
and arises among such as do not come into conflict
with the communal equality. This more subtle
recognition of the principle of equilibrium is ap-
plied to cases where nothing is prescribed by law.
Equity looks forwards and backwards, its maxim
being, "Do unto others as you would that they
should do unto you. " Aequum means: "This
principle is conformable to our equality; it tones
down even our small differences to an appearance
of equality, and expects us to be indulgent in
cases where we are not compelled to pardon. "
33-
Elements of Revenge. —The word " revenge"
is spoken so quickly that it almost seems as if it
could not contain more than one conceptual and
emotional root. Hence we are still at pains to find
this root. Our economists, in the same way, have
never wearied of scenting a similar unity in the
word "value," and of hunting after the primitive root
idea of value. As if all words were not pockets,
into which this or that or several things have been
stuffed at once! So "revenge" is now one thing,
now another, and sometimes more composite. Let
us first distinguish that defensive counter-blow,
which we strike, almost unconsciously, even at in-
animate objects (such as machinery in motion) that
have hurt us. The notion is to set a check to the
object that has hurt us, by bringing the machine to
## p. 212 (#234) ############################################
212 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
a stop. Sometimes the force of this counter-blow,
in order to attain its object, will have to be strong
enough to shatter the machine. If the machine be
too strong to be disorganised by one man, the latter
will all the same strike the most violent blow he can
—as a sort of last attempt. We behave similarly
towards persons who hurt us, at the immediate sen-
sation of the hurt. If we like to call this an act of
revenge, well and good: but we must remember that
here self-preservation alone has set its cog-wheels
of reason in motion, and that after all we do not
think of the doer of the injury but only of ourselves.
We act without any idea of doing injury in return,
only with a view to getting away safe and sound.
—It needs time to pass in thought from oneself to
one's adversary and ask oneself at what point he is
most vulnerable. This is done in the second variety
of revenge, the preliminary idea of which is to con-
sider the vulnerability and susceptibility of the other.
The intention then is to give pain. On the other
hand, the idea of securing himself against further
injury is in this case so entirely outside the avenger's
horizon, that he almost regularly brings about his
own further injury and often foresees it in cold
blood. If in the first sort of revenge it was the
fear of a second blow that made the counter-blow
as strong as possible, in this case there is an almost
complete indifference to what one's adversary will
do: the strength of the counter-blow is only deter-
mined by what he has already done to us. Then
what has he done? What profit is it to us if he
is now suffering, after we have suffered through
him? This is a case of readjustment, whereas the
## p. 213 (#235) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 213
first act of revenge only serves the purpose of self-
preservation. It may be that through our adver-
sary we have lost property, rank, friends, children
—these losses are not recovered by revenge, the
readjustment only concerns a subsidiary loss which
is added to all the other losses. The revenge of
readjustment does not preserve one from further
injury, it does not make good the injury already
suffered—except in one case. If our honour has
suffered through our adversary, revenge can restore
it. But in any case honour has suffered an injury
if intentional harm has been done us, because our
adversary proved thereby that he was not afraid of
us. By revenge we prove that we are not afraid of
him either, and herein lies the settlement, the read-
justment. (The intention of showing their complete
lack of fear goes so far in some people that the
dangers of revenge—loss of health or life or other
losses—are in their eyes an indispensable condition
of every vengeful act. Hence they practise the duel,
although the law also offers them aid in obtaining
satisfaction for what they have suffered. They are
not satisfied with a safe means of recovering their
honour, because this would not prove their fearless-
ness. )—In the first-named variety of revenge it is
just fear that strikes the counter-blow; in the second
case it is the absence of fear, which, as has been said,
wishes to manifest itself in the counter-blow. —Thus
nothing appears more different than the motives of
the two courses of action which are designated by the
one word "revenge. " Yet it often happens that the
avenger is not precisely certain as to what really
prompted his deed: perhaps he struck the counter-
## p. 213 (#236) ############################################
212
HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
a stop. Sometimes the force of this counter-blow,
in order to attain its object, will have to be strong
enough to shatter the machine. If the machine be
too strong to be disorganised by one man, the latter
will all the same strike the most violent blow he can
—as a sort of last attempt. We behave similarly
towards persons who hurt us, at the immediate sen-
sation of the hurt. If we like to call this an act of
revenge, well and good: but we must remember that
here self-preservation alone has set its cog-wheels
of reason in motion, and that after all we do not
think of the doer of the injury but only of ourselves.
We act without any idea of doing injury in return,
only with a view to getting away safe and sound.
- It needs time to pass in thought from oneself to
one's adversary and ask oneself at what point he is
most vulnerable. This is done in the second variety
of revenge, the preliminary idea of which is to con-
sider the vulnerability and susceptibility of the other.
The intention then is to give pain. On the other
hand, the idea of securing himself against further
injury is in this case so entirely outside the avenger's
horizon, that he almost regularly brings about his
own further injury and often foresees it in cold
blood. If in the first sort of revenge it was the
fear of a second blow that made the counter-blow
as strong as possible, in this case there is an almost
complete indifference to what one's adversary will
do: the strength of the counter-blow is only deter-
mined by what he has already done to us. Then
what has he done? What profit is it to us if he
is now suffering, after we have suffered through
him? This is a case of readjustment, whereas the
## p. 213 (#237) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW.
213
first act of revenge only serves the purpose of self-
preservation. It may be that through our adver-
sary we have lost property, rank, friends, children
—these losses are not recovered by revenge, the
readjustment only concerns a subsidiary loss which
is added to all the other losses. The revenge of
readjustment does not preserve one from further
injury, it does not make good the injury already
suffered—except in one case. If our honour has
suffered through our adversary, revenge can restore
it. But in any case honour has suffered an injury
if intentional harm has been done us, because our
adversary proved thereby that he was not afraid of
us. By revenge we prove that we are not afraid of
him either, and herein lies the settlement, the read-
justment. (The intention of showing their complete
lack of fear goes so far in some people that the
dangers of revenge-loss of health or life or other
losses—are in their eyes an indispensable condition
of every vengeful act. Hence they practise the duel,
although the law also offers them aid in obtaining
satisfaction for what they have suffered. They are
not satisfied with a safe means of recovering their
honour, because this would not prove their fearless-
ness. )—In the first-named variety of revenge it is
just fear that strikes the counter-blow; in the second
case it is the absence of fear, which, as has been said,
wishes to manifest itself in the counter-blow. —Thus
nothing appears more different than the motives of
the two courses of action which are designated by the
one word “revenge. " Yet it often happens that the
avenger is not precisely certain as to what really
prompted his deed : perhaps he struck the counter-
## p. 213 (#238) ############################################
212
HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
a stop. Sometimes the force of this counter-blow,
in order to attain its object, will have to be strong
enough to shatter the machine. If the machine be
too strong to be disorganised by one man, the latter
will all the same strike the most violent blow he can
-as a sort of last attempt. We behave similarly
towards persons who hurt us, at the immediate sen-
sation of the hurt. If we like to call this an act of
revenge, well and good: but we must remember that
here self-preservation alone has set its cog-wheels
of reason in motion, and that after all we do not
think of the doer of the injury but only of ourselves.
We act without any idea of doing injury in return,
only with a view to getting away safe and sound.
-It needs time to pass in thought from oneself to
one's adversary and ask oneself at what point he is
most vulnerable. This is done in the second variety
of revenge, the preliminary idea of which is to con-
sider the vulnerability and susceptibility of the other.
The intention then is to give pain. On the other
hand, the idea of securing himself against further
injury is in this case so entirely outside the avenger's
horizon, that he almost regularly brings about his
own further injury and often foresees it in cold
blood. If in the first sort of revenge it was the
fear of a second blow that made the counter-blow
as strong as possible, in this case there is an almost
complete indifference to what one's adversary will
do: the strength of the counter-blow is only deter-
mined by what he has already done to us. Then
what has he done? What profit is it to us if he
is now suffering, after we have suffered through
him? This is a case of readjustment, whereas the
## p. 213 (#239) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW.
213
first act of revenge only serves the purpose of self-
preservation. It may be that through our adver-
sary we have lost property, rank, friends, children
—these losses are not recovered by revenge, the
readjustment only concerns a subsidiary loss which
is added to all the other losses. The revenge of
readjustment does not preserve one from further
injury, it does not make good the injury already
suffered-except in one case. If our honour has
suffered through our adversary, revenge can restore
it. But in any case honour has suffered an injury
if intentional harm has been done us, because our
adversary proved thereby that he was not afraid of
us. By revenge we prove that we are not afraid of
him either, and herein lies the settlement, the read-
justment. (The intention of showing their complete
lack of fear goes so far in some people that the
dangers of revenge-loss of health or life or other
losses—are in their eyes an indispensable condition
of every vengeful act. Hence they practise the duel,
although the law also offers them aid in obtaining
satisfaction for what they have suffered. They are
not satisfied with a safe means of recovering their
honour, because this would not prove their fearless-
ness.
)- In the first-named variety of revenge it is
just fear that strikes the counter-blow; in the second
case it is the absence of fear, which, as has been said,
wishes to manifest itself in the counter-blow. Thus
nothing appears more different than the motives of
the two courses of action which are designated by the
one word “revenge. ” Yet it often happens that the
avenger is not precisely certain as to what really
prompted his deed : perhaps he struck the counter-
## p. 213 (#240) ############################################
212
HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
a stop. Sometimes the force of this counter-blow,
in order to attain its object, will have to be strong
enough to shatter the machine. If the machine be
too strong to be disorganised by one man, the latter
will all the same strike the most violent blow he can
-as a sort of last attempt. We behave similarly
towards persons who hurt us, at the immediate sen-
sation of the hurt. If we like to call this an act of
revenge, well and good: but we must remember that
here self-preservation alone has set its cog-wheels
of reason in motion, and that after all we do not
think of the doer of the injury but only of ourselves.
We act without any idea of doing injury in return,
only with a view to getting away safe and sound.
-It needs time to pass in thought from oneself to
one's adversary and ask oneself at what point he is
most vulnerable. This is done in the second variety
of revenge, the preliminary idea of which is to con-
sider the vulnerability and susceptibility of the other.
The intention then is to give pain. On the other
hand, the idea of securing himself against further
injury is in this case so entirely outside the avenger's
horizon, that he almost regularly brings about his
own further injury and often foresees it in cold
blood. If in the first sort of revenge it was the
fear of a second blow that made the counter-blow
as strong as possible, in this case there is an almost
complete indifference to what one's adversary will
do: the strength of the counter-blow is only deter-
mined by what he has already done to us. Then
what has he done? What profit is it to us if he
is now suffering, after we have suffered through
him? This is a case of readjustment, whereas the
## p. 213 (#241) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW.
213
first act of revenge only serves the purpose of self-
preservation. It may be that through our adver-
sary we have lost property, rank, friends, children
—these losses are not recovered by revenge, the
readjustment only concerns a subsidiary loss which
is added to all the other losses. The revenge of
readjustment does not preserve one from further
injury, it does not make good the injury already
suffered-except in one case. If our honour has
suffered through our adversary, revenge can restore
it. But in any case honour has suffered an injury
if intentional harm has been done us, because our
adversary proved thereby that he was not afraid of
us. By revenge we prove that we are not afraid of
him either, and herein lies the settlement, the read-
justment. (The intention of showing their complete
lack of fear goes so far in some people that the
dangers of revenge-loss of health or life or other
losses—are in their eyes an indispensable condition
of every vengeful act. Hence they practise the duel,
although the law also offers them aid in obtaining
satisfaction for what they have suffered. They are
not satisfied with a safe means of recovering their
honour, because this would not prove their fearless-
ness. )- In the first-named variety of revenge it is
just fear that strikes the counter-blow; in the second
case it is the absence of fear, which, as has been said,
wishes to manifest itself in the counter-blow. —Thus
nothing appears more different than the motives of
the two courses of action which are designated by the
one word “revenge. " Yet it often happens that the
avenger is not precisely certain as to what really
prompted his deed: perhaps he struck the counter-
## p. 213 (#242) ############################################
212
HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
a stop. Sometimes the force of this counter-blow,
in order to attain its object, will have to be strong
enough to shatter the machine. If the machine be
too strong to be disorganised by one man, the latter
will all the same strike the most violent blow he can
-as a sort of last attempt. We behave similarly
towards persons who hurt us, at the immediate sen-
sation of the hurt. If we like to call this an act of
revenge, well and good: but we must remember that
here self-preservation alone has set its cog-wheels
of reason in motion, and that after all we do not
think of the doer of the injury but only of ourselves.
We act without any idea of doing injury in return,
only with a view to getting away safe and sound.
-It needs time to pass in thought from oneself to
one's adversary and ask oneself at what point he is
most vulnerable. This is done in the second variety
of revenge, the preliminary idea of which is to con-
sider the vulnerability and susceptibility of the other.
The intention then is to give pain. On the other
hand, the idea of securing himself against further
injury is in this case so entirely outside the avenger's
horizon, that he almost regularly brings about his
own further injury and often foresees it in cold
blood. If in the first sort of revenge it was the
fear of a second blow that made the counter-blow
as strong as possible, in this case there is an almost
complete indifference to what one's adversary will
do: the strength of the counter-blow is only deter-
mined by what he has already done to us. Then
what has he done? What profit is it to us if he
is now suffering, after we have suffered through
him? This is a case of readjustment, whereas the
## p. 213 (#243) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW.
213
first act of revenge only serves the purpose of self-
preservation. It may be that through our adver-
sary we have lost property, rank, friends, children
—these losses are not recovered by revenge, the
readjustment only concerns a subsidiary loss which
is added to all the other losses. The revenge of
readjustment does not preserve one from further
injury, it does not make good the injury already
suffered-except in one case. If our honour has
suffered through our adversary, revenge can restore
it. But in any case honour has suffered an injury
if intentional harm has been done us, because our
adversary proved thereby that he was not afraid of
us. By revenge we prove that we are not afraid of
him either, and herein lies the settlement, the read-
justment. (The intention of showing their complete
lack of fear goes so far in some people that the
dangers of revenge-loss of health or life or other
losses—are in their eyes an indispensable condition
of every vengeful act. Hence they practise the duel,
although the law also offers them aid in obtaining
satisfaction for what they have suffered. They are
not satisfied with a safe means of recovering their
honour, because this would not prove their fearless-
ness. )- In the first-named variety of revenge it is
just fear that strikes the counter-blow; in the second
case it is the absence of fear, which, as has been said,
wishes to manifest itself in the counter-blow. —Thus
nothing appears more different than the motives of
the two courses of action which are designated by the
one word "revenge. " Yet it often happens that the
avenger is not precisely certain as to what really
prompted his deed : perhaps he struck the counter-
## p. 213 (#244) ############################################
212
HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
a stop. Sometimes the force of this counter-blow,
in order to attain its object, will have to be strong
enough to shatter the machine. If the machine be
too strong to be disorganised by one man, the latter
will all the same strike the most violent blow he can
-as a sort of last attempt. We behave similarly
towards persons who hurt us, at the immediate sen-
sation of the hurt. If we like to call this an act of
revenge, well and good: but we must remember that
here self-preservation alone has set its cog-wheels
of reason in motion, and that after all we do not
think of the doer of the injury but only of ourselves.
We act without any idea of doing injury in return,
only with a view to getting away safe and sound.
-It needs time to pass in thought from oneself to
one's adversary and ask oneself at what point he is
most vulnerable. This is done in the second variety
of revenge, the preliminary idea of which is to con-
sider the vulnerability and susceptibility of the other.
The intention then is to give pain. On the other
hand, the idea of securing himself against further
injury is in this case so entirely outside the avenger's
horizon, that he almost regularly brings about his
own further injury and often foresees it in cold
blood. If in the first sort of revenge it was the
fear of a second blow that made the counter-blow
as strong as possible, in this case there is an almost
complete indifference to what one's adversary will
do: the strength of the counter-blow is only deter-
mined by what he has already done to us. Then
what has he done? What profit is it to us if he
is now suffering, after we have suffered through
him? This is a case of readjustment, whereas the
## p. 213 (#245) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW.
213
first act of revenge only serves the purpose of self-
preservation. It may be that through our adver-
sary we have lost property, rank, friends, children
—these losses are not recovered by revenge, the
readjustment only concerns a subsidiary loss which
is added to all the other losses. The revenge of
readjustment does not preserve one from further
injury, it does not make good the injury already
suffered—except in one case. If our honour has
suffered through our adversary, revenge can restore
it. But in any case honour has suffered an injury
if intentional harm has been done us, because our
adversary proved thereby that he was not afraid of
us. By revenge we prove that we are not afraid of
him either, and herein lies the settlement, the read-
justment. (The intention of showing their complete
lack of fear goes so far in some people that the
dangers of revenge-loss of health or life or other
losses—are in their eyes an indispensable condition
of every vengeful act. Hence they practise the duel,
although the law also offers them aid in obtaining
satisfaction for what they have suffered. They are
not satisfied with a safe means of recovering their
honour, because this would not prove their fearless-
ness. )- In the first-named variety of revenge it is
just fear that strikes the counter-blow; in the second
case it is the absence of fear, which, as has been said,
wishes to manifest itself in the counter-blow. —Thus
nothing appears more different than the motives of
the two courses of action which are designated by the
one word “revenge. " Yet it often happens that the
avenger is not precisely certain as to what really
prompted his deed : perhaps he struck the counter-
## p. 213 (#246) ############################################
212
HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
a stop. Sometimes the force of this counter-blow,
in order to attain its object, will have to be strong
enough to shatter the machine. If the machine be
too strong to be disorganised by one man, the latter
will all the same strike the most violent blow he can
-as a sort of last attempt. We behave similarly
towards persons who hurt us, at the immediate sen-
sation of the hurt. If we like to call this an act of
revenge, well and good: but we must remember that
here self-preservation alone has set its cog-wheels
of reason in motion, and that after all we do not
think of the doer of the injury but only of ourselves.
We act without any idea of doing injury in return,
only with a view to getting away safe and sound,
-It needs time to pass in thought from oneself to
one's adversary and ask oneself at what point he is
most vulnerable. This is done in the second variety
of revenge, the preliminary idea of which is to con-
sider the vulnerability and susceptibility of the other.
The intention then is to give pain. On the other
hand, the idea of securing himself against further
injury is in this case so entirely outside the avenger's
horizon, that he almost regularly brings about his
own further injury and often foresees it in cold
blood. If in the first sort of revenge it was the
fear of a second blow that made the counter-blow
as strong as possible, in this case there is an almost
complete indifference to what one's adversary will
do: the strength of the counter-blow is only deter-
mined by what he has already done to us. Then
what has he done? What profit is it to us if he
is now suffering, after we have suffered through
him? This is a case of readjustment, whereas the
## p. 213 (#247) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW.
213
first act of revenge only serves the purpose of self-
preservation. It may be that through our adver-
sary we have lost property, rank, friends, children
—these losses are not recovered by revenge, the
readjustment only concerns a subsidiary loss which
is added to all the other losses. The revenge of
readjustment does not preserve one from further
injury, it does not make good the injury already
suffered-except in one case. If our honour has
suffered through our adversary, revenge can restore
it. But in any case honour has suffered an injury
if intentional harm has been done us, because our
adversary proved thereby that he was not afraid of
us. By revenge we prove that we are not afraid of
him either, and herein lies the settlement, the read-
justment. (The intention of showing their complete
lack of fear goes so far in some people that the
dangers of revenge-loss of health or life or other
losses-are in their eyes an indispensable condition
of every vengeful act. Hence they practise the duel,
although the law also offers them aid in obtaining
satisfaction for what they have suffered. They are
not satisfied with a safe means of recovering their
honour, because this would not prove their fearless-
ness. )- In the first-named variety of revenge it is
just fear that strikes the counter-blow; in the second
case it is the absence of fear, which, as has been said,
wishes to manifest itself in the counter-blow. —Thus
nothing appears more different than the motives of
the two courses of action which are designated by the
one word “revenge. " Yet it often happens that the
avenger is not precisely certain as to what really
prompted his deed : perhaps he struck the counter-
## p. 213 (#248) ############################################
212
HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
a stop. Sc year and the instinct of self-preservation,
in order to background, when he has time to reflect
enough to roadpoint of wounded honour, he imagines
too strong
avenged himself for the sake of his
will all th is motive
vis motive is in any case more reputable
Las a so: ther. An essential point is whether he
towards our injured in the eyes of others (the
sation of only in the eyes of his offenders: in the
revenge, he will prefer secret, in the
he will prefer secret, in the former open
here self- Accordingly, as he enters strongly or
the soul of the doer and the spectator,
of reason the soul of the doer and t
think of will be more bitter or more tame. If
We act v: . . . . . ly lacking
ly lacking in this sort of imagination, he
ami, with think at all of revenge, as the feeling of
is not present in him, and accordingly
vpounded. In the same way, he will not
venge if he despises the offender and the
most vul evenge
because as objects of his contempt they
of reven
sider the
im honour, and accordingly cannot rob
The int
1. Finally, he will forego revenge in
hand, t
mon case of his loving the offender.
injury i
ie then suffers loss of honour in the
horizoi
I will perhaps become less worthy
own ft
e returned. But even to renounce
e is a sacrifice that love is ready
blood.
fear o
nly object is to avoid hurting the
his would mean hurting oneself
as stro
compl
rt by the sacrifice. Accordingly,
do: t
ge himself, unless he be bereft
minec
1 by contempt or by love for the
'le turns to the law-courts, he
what
rivate individual ; but also, as
is no
him?
man of society, he desires the
## p. 213 (#249) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW.
215
revenge of society upon one who does not respect
it. Thus by legal punishment private honour as
well as that of society is restored—that is to say,
punishment is revenge. Punishment undoubtedly
contains the first-mentioned element of revenge,
in as far as by its means society helps to preserve
itself, and strikes a counter-blow in self-defence.
Punishment desires to prevent further injury, to
scare other offenders. In this way the two elements
of revenge, different as they are, are united in punish-
ment, and this may perhaps tend most of all to
maintain the above-mentioned confusion of ideas,
thanks to which the individual avenger generally
does not know what he really wants.
34.
THE VIRTUES THAT DAMAGE US. -As members
of communities we think we have no right to exercise
certain virtues which afford usgreat honourand some
pleasure as private individuals (for example, indul-
gence and favour towards miscreants of all kinds)-
in short, every mode of action whereby the advantage
of society would suffer through our virtue. No bench
of judges, face to face with its conscience, may per-
mit itself to be gracious. This privilege is reserved
for the king as an individual, and we are glad when
he makes use of it, proving that we should like to be
gracious individually, but not collectively. Society
recognises only the virtues profitable to her, or at
least not injurious to her-virtues like justice, which
are exercised without loss, or, in fact, at compound
interest. The virtues that damage us cannot have
## p. 214 (#250) ############################################
214 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
blow from fear and the instinct of self-preservation,
but in the background, when he has time to reflect
upon the standpoint ofwounded honour, he imagines
that he has avenged himself for the sake of his
honour—this motive is in any case more reputable
than the other. An essential point is whether he
sees his honour injured in the eyes of others (the
world) or only in the eyes of his offenders: in the
latter case he will prefer secret, in the former open
revenge. Accordingly, as he enters strongly or
feebly into the soul of the doer and the spectator,
his revenge will be more bitter or more tame. If
he is entirely lacking in this sort of imagination, he
will not think at all of revenge, as the feeling of
"honour" is not present in him, and accordingly
cannot be wounded. In the same way, he will not
think of revenge if he despises the offender and the
spectator; because as objects of his contempt they
cannot give him honour, and accordingly cannot rob
him of honour. Finally, he will forego revenge in
the not uncommon case of his loving the offender.
It is true that he then suffers loss of honour in the
other's eyes, and will perhaps become less worthy
of having his love returned. But even to renounce
all requital of love is a sacrifice that love is ready
to make when its only object is to avoid hurting the
beloved object: this would mean hurting oneself
more than one is hurt by the sacrifice. —Accordingly,
every one will avenge himself, unless he be bereft
of honour or inspired by contempt or by love for the
offender. Even if he turns to the law-courts, he
desires revenge as a private individual; but also, as
a thoughtful, prudent man of society, he desires the
## p. 215 (#251) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 215
revenge of society upon one who does not respect
it. Thus by legal punishment private honour as
well as that of society is restored—that is to say,
punishment is revenge. Punishment undoubtedly
contains the first-mentioned element of revenge,
in as far as by its means society helps to preserve
itself, and strikes a counter-blow in self-defence.
Punishment desires to prevent further injury, to
scare other offenders. In this way the two elements
of revenge, different as they are, are united in punish-
ment, and this may perhaps tend most of all to
maintain the above-mentioned confusion of ideas,
thanks to which the individual avenger generally
does not know what he really wants.
34-
The Virtues that Damage Us. —As members
of communities we think we have no right to exercise
certain virtues which afford us great honour and some
pleasure as private individuals (for example, indul-
gence and favour towards miscreants of all kinds)—
in short, every mode of action whereby the advantage
of society would suffer through our virtue. No bench
of judges, face to face with its conscience, may per-
mit itself to be gracious. This privilege is reserved
for the king as an individual, and we are glad when
he makes use of it, proving that we should like to be
gracious individually, but not collectively. Society
recognises only the virtues profitable to her, or at
least not injurious to her—virtues like justice, which
are exercised without loss, or, in fact, at compound
interest. The virtues that damage us cannot have
## p. 216 (#252) ############################################
2l6 HUMAN, ALL-TOO-HUMAN.
originated in society, because even now opposition
to them arises in every small society that is in the
making. Such virtues are therefore those of men
of unequal standing, invented by the superior indi-
viduals; they are the virtues of rulers, and the idea
underlying them is: "I am mighty enough to put
u£ with an obvious loss; that is a proof of my power. "
Thus they are virtues closely akin to pride.
35-
The Casuistry of Advantage. —There would
be no moral casuistry if there were no casuistry of
advantage. The most free and refined intelligence
is often incapable of choosing between two alterna-
tives in such a way that his choice necessarily in-
volves the greater advantage. In such cases we
choose because we must, and afterwards often feel
a kind of emotional sea-sickness.
36-
Turning Hypocrite. — Every beggar turns
hypocrite, like every one who makes his living out
of indigence, be it personal or public. —The beggar
does not feel want nearly so keenly as he must make
others feel it, if he wishes to make a living by mendi-
cancy.
37-
A Sort of Cult of the Passions. —You
hypochondriacs, you philosophic blind-worms talk
of the formidable nature of human passions, in
order to inveigh against the dreadsomeness of the
## p. 217 (#253) ############################################
THE WANDERER AND HIS SHADOW. 217
whole world-structure. As if the passions were
always and everywhere formidable! As if this
sort of terror must always exist in the world! —
Through a carelessness in small matters, through
a deficiency in observation of self and of the ris-
ing generation, you have yourselves allowed your
passions to develop into such unruly monsters that
you are frightened now at the mere mention of the
word "passion "! It rests with you and it rests
with us to divest the passions of their formidable
features and so to dam them that they do not
become devastating floods. —We must not exalt
our errors into eternal fatalities. Rather shall we
honestly endeavour to convert all the passions of
humanity into sources of joy. *
38.
The Sting of Conscience. —The sting of con-
science, like the gnawing of a dog at a stone, is
mere foolishness.
39-
Origin of Rights. —Rights may be traced to
traditions, traditions to momentary agreements. At
some time or other men were mutually content
with the consequences of making an agreement,
and, again, too indolent formally to renew it.
Thus they went on living as if it had constantly
been renewed, and gradually, when oblivion cast its
* The play on Freudenschaften {i. e. pleasure-giving passions)
and Leidenschaften {i. e. pain-giving passions) is often used by
Nietzsche, and is untranslateable. —Tr.
## p.
