,,the ,,essays    ,,of    ,,arthur      
,,schopenhauer    ,,translated ,,by     
,t4 ,,bailey ,,saunders1 ,m4,a4         
,,the ,,art ,,of ,,literature4          
,,contents4      ,,preface    ,,on      
,,authorship    ,,on ,,style    ,,on    
,,the ,,study ,,of ,,latin    ,,on ,,men
 ,,of ,,learning    ,,on ,,thinking     
,,for ,,oneself    ,,on ,,some ,,forms  
,,of ,,literature    ,,on ,,criticism   
,,on ,,reputation    ,,on ,,genius      
,,translator',s ,,preface4      ,the    
contents of this1 as of the other       
volumes in the series1 have been  drawn 
from ,schopenhauer's ,parerga1 and      
amongst the various subjects  dealt with
 in that famous collection of essays1   
,literature holds an  important place4  
,nor can ,schopenhauer's opinions fail  
to be of special  value when he treats  
of literary form and method4 ,for1 quite
 apart  from his philosophical          
pretensions1 he claims recognition as a 
great  writer2 he is1 indeed1 one of the
 best of the few really excellent       

prose-writers of whom ,germany can      
boast4 ,while he is thus particularly   
qualified to speak of ,literature as an 
,art1 he has also something to  say upon
 those influences which1 outside of his 
own merits1 contribute  so much to an   
author's success1 and are so often      
undervalued when he  obtains immediate  
popularity4 ,schopenhauer's own sore    
experiences in  the matter of reputation
 lend an interest to his remarks upon   
that  subject1 although it is too much  
to ask of human nature that he should   
approach it in any dispassionate spirit4
    ,in the following pages we have     
observations upon style by one who  was 
a stylist in the best sense of the word1
 not affected1 nor yet a  phrasemonger2 
on thinking for oneself by a philosopher
 who never did  anything else2 on       
criticism by a writer who suffered much 
from the  inability of others to        
understand him2 on reputation by a      
candidate  who1 during the greater part 
of his life1 deserved without obtaining 

it2 and on genius by one who was        
incontestably of the privileged  order  
himself4 ,and whatever may be thought of
 some of his opinions  on matters of    
detail--on anonymity1 for instance1 or  
on the question  whether good work is   
never done for money--there can be no   
doubt that  his general view of         
literature1 and the conditions under    
which it  flourishes1 is perfectly      
sound4    ,it might be thought1 perhaps1
 that remarks which were meant to apply 
to the ,german language would have but  
little bearing upon one so  different   
from it as ,english4 ,this would be a   
just objection if  ,schopenhauer treated
 literature in a petty spirit1 and      
confined  himself to pedantic inquiries 
into matters of grammar and etymology1  
or mere niceties of phrase4 ,but this is
 not so4 ,he deals with his  subject    
broadly1 and takes large and general    
views2 nor can anyone  who knows        
anything of the philosopher suppose this
 to mean that he is  vague and feeble4  

,it is true that now and again in the   
course of these  essays he makes remarks
 which are obviously meant to apply to  
the  failings of certain writers of his 
own age and country2 but in such a  case
 ,i have generally given his sentences a
 turn1 which1 while keeping  them       
faithful to the spirit of the original1 
secures for them a less  restricted     
range1 and makes ,schopenhauer a critic 
of similar faults in  whatever age or   
country they may appear4 ,this has been 
done in spite  of a sharp word on page  
seventeen of this volume1 addressed to  
translators who dare to revise their    
author2 but the change is one  with     
which not even ,schopenhauer could      
quarrel4    ,it is thus a significant   
fact--a testimony to the depth of his   
insight and1 in the main1 the justice of
 his opinions--that views of  literature
 which appealed to his own immediate    
contemporaries1 should  be found to hold
 good elsewhere and at a distance of    
fifty years4  ,it means that what he had

 to say was worth saying2 and since it  
is  adapted thus equally to diverse     
times and audiences1 it is probably of  
permanent interest4    ,the intelligent 
reader will observe that much of the    
charm of  ,schopenhauer's writing comes 
from its strongly personal character1   
and  that here he has to do1 not with a 
mere maker of books1 but with a  man who
 thinks for himself and has no false    
scruples in putting his  meaning plainly
 upon the page1 or in unmasking sham    
wherever he finds  it4 ,this is nowhere 
so true as when he deals with           
literature2 and just  as in his         
treatment of life1 he is no flatterer to
 men in general1 so  here he is free and
 outspoken on the peculiar failings of  
authors4 ,at  the same time he gives    
them good advice4 ,he is particularly   
happy in  recommending restraint in     
regard to reading the works of others1  
and  the cultivation of independent     
thought2 and herein he recalls a saying 
attributed to ,hobbes1 who was not less 

distinguished as a writer than  as a    
philosopher1 to the effect that if he   
had read as much as other  men1 he      
should have been as ignorant as they4   
,schopenhauer also utters a warning1    
which we shall do well to take to  heart
 in these days1 against mingling the    
pursuit of literature with  vulgar aims4
 ,if we follow him here1 we shall       
carefully distinguish  between          
literature as an object of life and     
literature as a means of  living1       
between the real love of truth and      
beauty1 and that detestable  false love 
which looks to the price it will fetch  
in the market4 ,i am  not referring to  
those who1 while they follow a useful   
and honorable  calling in bringing      
literature before the public1 are       
content to be  known as men of business4
 ,if1 by the help of some second witch  
of ,endor1 we could raise the ghost of  
,schopenhauer1 it would be  interesting 
to hear his opinion of a certain kind of
 literary  enterprise which has come    

into vogue since his day1 and now       
receives  an amount of attention very   
much beyond its due4 ,we may hazard a   
guess  at the direction his opinion     
would take4 ,he would doubtless show us 
how this enterprise1 which is carried on
 by self-styled literary  men1 ends by  
making literature into a form of        
merchandise1 and  treating it as though 
it were so much goods to be bought and  
sold at a  profit1 and most likely to   
produce quick returns if the maker's    
name  is well known4 ,nor would it be   
the ghost of the real ,schopenhauer     
unless we heard a vigorous denunciation 
of men who claim a connection  with     
literature by a servile flattery of     
successful living  authors--the dead    
cannot be made to pay--in the hope of   
appearing to  advantage in their        
reflected light and turning that        
advantage into  money4    ,in order to  
present the contents of this book in a  
convenient form1 ,i  have not scrupled  
to make an arrangement with the chapters

 somewhat  different from that which    
exists in the original2 so that two or  
more  subjects which are there dealt    
with successively in one and the same   
chapter1 here stand by themselves4 ,in  
consequence of this1 some of  the titles
 of the sections are not to be found in 
the original4 ,i may  state1 however1   
that the essays on ,authorship and      
,style and the  latter part of that on  
,criticism are taken direct from the    
chapter  headed ,ueber ,schriftstellerei
 und ,stil2 and that the remainder of   
the essay on ,criticism1 with that of   
,reputation1 is supplied by  the remarks
 ,ueber ,urtheil1 ,kritik1 ,beifall und 
,ruhm4 ,the essays on  ,the ,study of   
,latin1 on ,men of ,learning1 and on    
,some ,forms  of ,literature1 are taken 
chiefly from the four sections ,ueber   
,gelehrsamkeit und ,gelehrte1 ,ueber    
,sprache und ,worte1 ,ueber ,lesen  und 
,bcher3 ,anhang1 and ,zur ,metaphysik   
des ,schnen4 ,the essay on  ,thinking   
for ,oneself is a rendering of certain  

remarks under the  heading              
,selbstdenken4 ,genius was a favorite   
subject of speculation  with            
,schopenhauer1 and he often touches upon
 it in the course of his  works2 always1
 however1 to put forth the same theory  
in regard to it  as may be found in the 
concluding section of this volume4      
,though the  essay has little or nothing
 to do with literary method1 the subject
 of  which it treats is the most needful
 element of success in literature2  and 
,i have introduced it on that ground4   
,it forms part of a chapter in  the     
,parerga entitled ,den ,intellekt       
berhaupt und in jeder ,beziehung        
betreffende ,gedanken3 ,anhang          
verwandter ,stellen4    ,it has also    
been part of my duty to invent a title  
for this volume2  and ,i am well aware  
that objection may be made to the one ,i
 have  chosen1 on the ground that in    
common language it is unusual to speak  
of literature as an art1 and that to do 
so is unduly to narrow its  meaning and 

to leave out of sight its main function 
as the record of  thought4 ,but there is
 no reason why the word ,literature     
should  not be employed in that double  
sense which is allowed to attach to     
,painting1 ,music1 ,sculpture1 as       
signifying either the objective  outcome
 of a certain mental activity1 seeking  
to express itself in  outward form2 or  
else the particular kind of mental      
activity in  question1 and the methods  
it follows4 ,and we do1 in fact1 use it 
in  this latter sense1 when we say of a 
writer that he pursues literature  as a 
calling4 ,if1 then1 literature can be   
taken to mean a process as  well as a   
result of mental activity1 there can be 
no error in speaking  of it as ,art4 ,i 
use that term in its broad sense1 as    
meaning skill in  the display of        
thought2 or1 more fully1 a right use of 
the rules  of applying to the practical 
exhibition of thought1 with whatever    
material it may deal4 ,in connection    
with literature1 this is a  sense and an

 application of the term which have been
 sufficiently  established by the       
example of the great writers of         
antiquity4    ,it may be asked1 of      
course1 whether the true thinker1 who   
will always  form the soul of the true  
author1 will not be so much occupied    
with  what he has to say1 that it will  
appear to him a trivial thing to  spend 
great effort on embellishing the form in
 which he delivers it4  ,literature1 to 
be worthy of the name1 must1 it is true1
 deal with  noble matter--the riddle of 
our existence1 the great facts of life1 
the changing passions of the human      
heart1 the discernment of some deep     
moral truth4 ,it is easy to lay too much
 stress upon the mere garment  of       
thought2 to be too precise2 to give to  
the arrangement of words an  attention  
that should rather be paid to the       
promotion of fresh ideas4  ,a writer who
 makes this mistake is like a fop who   
spends his little  mind in adorning his 
person4 ,in short1 it may be charged    

against the  view of literature which is
 taken in calling it an ,art1 that1     
instead  of making truth and insight the
 author's aim1 it favors sciolism and a 
fantastic and affected style4 ,there is1
 no doubt1 some justice in the          
objection2 nor have we in our own day1  
and especially amongst younger  men1 any
 lack of writers who endeavor to win    
confidence1 not by adding  to the stock 
of ideas in the world1 but by despising 
the use of plain  language4 ,their      
faults are not new in the history of    
literature2 and  it is a pleasing sign  
of ,schopenhauer's insight that a       
merciless  exposure of them1 as they    
existed half a century ago1 is still    
quite  applicable to their modern form4 
,and since these writers1 who may1 in   
the slang of the hour1 be called        
impressionists in literature1 follow    
their own bad taste in the  manufacture 
of dainty phrases1 devoid of all nerve1 
and generally  with some quite          
commonplace meaning1 it is all the more 

necessary to  discriminate carefully    
between artifice and art4    ,but       
although they may learn something from  
,schopenhauer's advice1 it  is not      
chiefly to them that it is offered4 ,it 
is to that great mass of  writers1 whose
 business is to fill the columns of the 
newspapers and  the pages of the review1
 and to produce the ton of novels that  
appear  every year4 ,now that almost    
everyone who can hold a pen aspires to  
be  called an author1 it is well to     
emphasize the fact that literature is   
an art in some respects more important  
than any other4 ,the problem of  this   
art is the discovery of those qualities 
of style and treatment  which entitled  
any work to be called good literature4  
,it will be safe to warn the reader at  
the very outset that1 if he  wishes to  
avoid being led astray1 he should in his
 search for these  qualities turn to    
books that have stood the test of time4 
,for such an amount of hasty writing is 
done in these days that it is  really   

difficult for anyone who reads much of  
it to avoid contracting  its faults1 and
 thus gradually coming to terms of      
dangerous  familiarity with bad methods4
 ,this advice will be especially needful
  if things that have little or no claim
 to be called literature at  all--the   
newspapers1 the monthly magazine1 and   
the last new tale of  intrigue or       
adventure--fill a large measure1 if not 
the whole1 of the  time given to        
reading4 ,nor are those who are         
sincerely anxious to have  the best     
thought in the best language quite free 
from danger if they  give too much      
attention to the contemporary authors1  
even though these  seem to think and    
write excellently4 ,for one generation  
alone is  incompetent to decide upon the
 merits of any author whatever2 and as  
literature1 like all art1 is a thing of 
human invention1 so it can be           
pronounced good only if it obtains      
lasting admiration1 by establishing  a  
permanent appeal to mankind's deepest   

feeling for truth and beauty4    ,it is 
in this sense that ,schopenhauer is     
perfectly right in holding  that neglect
 of the ancient classics1 which are the 
best of all models  in the art of       
writing1 will infallibly lead to a      
degeneration of  literature4    ,and the
 method of discovering the best         
qualities of style1 and of  forming a   
theory of writing1 is not to follow some
 trick or mannerism  that happens to    
please for the moment1 but to study the 
way in which  great authors have done   
their best work4    ,it will be said    
that ,schopenhauer tells us nothing we  
did not know  before4 ,perhaps so2 as he
 himself says1 the best things are      
seldom  new4 ,but he puts the old truths
 in a fresh and forcible way2 and no    
one who knows anything of good          
literature will deny that these truths  
are just now of very fit application4   
,it was probably to meet a real want    
that1 a year or two ago1 an  ingenious  
person succeeded in drawing a great     

number of ,english and  ,american       
writers into a confession of their      
literary creed and the art  they adopted
 in authorship2 and the interesting     
volume in which he  gave these          
confessions to the world contained some 
very good advice1  although most of it  
had been said before in different forms4
 ,more  recently a new departure1 of    
very doubtful use1 has taken place2 and 
two books have been issued1 which aim1  
the one at being an author's  manual1   
the other at giving hints on essays and 
how to write them4    ,a glance at these
 books will probably show that their    
authors have  still something to learn4 
,both of these ventures seem1 unhappily1
 to be popular2 and1 although  they may 
claim a position next-door to that of   
the present volume ,i  beg to say that  
it has no connection with them whatever4
 ,schopenhauer  does not attempt to     
teach the art of making bricks without  
straw4    ,i wish to take this          
opportunity of tendering my thanks to a 

large  number of reviewers for the very 
gratifying reception given to  the      
earlier volumes of this series4 ,and ,i 
have great pleasure in  expressing my   
obligations to my friend ,mr4 ,w4,g4    
,collingwood1 who has  looked over most 
of my proofs and often given me         
excellent advice in  my effort to turn  
,schopenhauer into readable ,english4   
,t4,b4,s4          ,,on ,,authorship4   
,there are1 first of all1 two kinds of  
authors3 those who write for the        
subject's sake1 and those who write for 
writing's sake4 ,while the  one have had
 thoughts or experiences which seem to  
them worth  communicating1 the others   
want money2 and so they write1 for      
money4  ,their thinking is part of the  
business of writing4 ,they may be       
recognized by the way in which they spin
 out their thoughts to the  greatest    
possible length2 then1 too1 by the very 
nature of their  thoughts1 which are    
only half-true1 perverse1 forced1       
vacillating2  again1 by the aversion    

they generally show to saying anything  
straight  out1 so that they may seem    
other than they are4 ,hence their       
writing  is deficient in clearness and  
definiteness1 and it is not long before 
they betray that their only object in   
writing at all is to cover  paper4 ,this
 sometimes happens with the best        
authors2 now and then1 for  example1    
with ,lessing in his ,dramaturgie1 and  
even in many of ,jean  ,paul's romances4
 ,as soon as the reader perceives this1 
let him throw  the book away2 for time  
is precious4 ,the truth is that when an 
author  begins to write for the sake of 
covering paper1 he is cheating the      
reader2 because he writes under the     
pretext that he has something to  say4  
,writing for money and reservation of   
copyright are1 at bottom1 the  ruin of  
literature4 ,no one writes anything that
 is worth writing1  unless he writes    
entirely for the sake of his subject4   
,what an  inestimable boon it would be1 
if in every branch of literature there  

were only a few books1 but those        
excellent6 ,this can never happen1 as   
long as money is to be made by writing4 
,it seems as though the money  lay under
 a curse2 for every author degenerates  
as soon as he begins  to put pen to     
paper in any way for the sake of gain4  
,the best works  of the greatest men all
 come from the time when they had to    
write for  nothing or for very little4  
,and here1 too1 that ,spanish proverb   
holds  good1 which declares that honor  
and money are not to be found in the    
same purse--honora y provecho no caben  
en un saco4 ,the reason why  ,literature
 is in such a bad plight nowadays is    
simply and solely that  people write    
books to make money4 ,a man who is in   
want sits down  and writes a book1 and  
the public is stupid enough to buy it4  
,the  secondary effect of this is the   
ruin of language4    ,a great many bad  
writers make their whole living by that 
foolish  mania of the public for reading
 nothing but what has just been         

printed1--journalists1 ,i mean4 ,truly1 
a most appropriate name4 ,in  plain     
language it is journeymen1 day-laborers6
    ,again1 it may be said that there   
are three kinds of authors4 ,first  come
 those who write without thinking4 ,they
 write from a full memory1  from        
reminiscences2 it may be1 even straight 
out of other people's  books4 ,this     
class is the most numerous4 ,then come  
those who do their  thinking whilst they
 are writing4 ,they think in order to   
write2 and  there is no lack of them4   
,last of all come those authors who     
think  before they begin to write4 ,they
 are rare4    ,authors of the second    
class1 who put off their thinking until 
they  come to write1 are like a         
sportsman who goes forth at random and  
is  not likely to bring very much home4 
,on the other hand1 when an author  of  
the third or rare class writes1 it is   
like a battue4 ,here the  game has been 
previously captured and shut up within a
 very small  space2 from which it is    

afterwards let out1 so many at a time1  
into  another space1 also confined4 ,the
 game cannot possibly escape the        
sportsman2 he has nothing to do but aim 
and fire--in other words1  write down   
his thoughts4 ,this is a kind of sport  
from which a man has  something to show4
    ,but even though the number of those
 who really think seriously before  they
 begin to write is small1 extremely few 
of them think about the  subject itself3
 the remainder think only about the     
books that have  been written on the    
subject1 and what has been said by      
others4 ,in  order to think at all1 such
 writers need the more direct and       
powerful  stimulus of having other      
people's thoughts before them4 ,these   
become  their immediate theme2 and the  
result is that they are always under    
their influence1 and so never1 in any   
real sense of the word1 are  original4  
,but the former are roused to thought by
 the subject itself1  to which their    
thinking is thus immediately directed4  

,this is the only  class that produces  
writers of abiding fame4    ,it must1 of
 course1 be understood that ,i am       
speaking here of writers  who treat of  
great subjects2 not of writers on the   
art of making  brandy4    ,unless an    
author takes the material on which he   
writes out of his  own head1 that is to 
say1 from his own observation1 he is not
  worth reading4 ,book-manufacturers1   
compilers1 the common run of            
history-writers1 and many others of the 
same class1 take their  material        
immediately out of books2 and the       
material goes straight  to their        
finger-tips without even paying freight 
or undergoing  examination as it passes 
through their heads1 to say nothing of  
elaboration or revision4 ,how very      
learned many a man would be if he  knew 
everything that was in his own books6   
,the consequence of this is  that these 
writers talk in such a loose and vague  
manner1 that the  reader puzzles his    
brain in vain to understand what it is  

of which  they are really thinking4     
,they are thinking of nothing4 ,it may  
now and  then be the case that the book 
from which they copy has been composed  
exactly in the same way3 so that writing
 of this sort is like a  plaster cast of
 a cast2 and in the end1 the bare       
outline of the face1  and that1 too1    
hardly recognizable1 is all that is left
 to your  ,antinous4 ,let compilations  
be read as seldom as possible4 ,it is   
difficult to avoid them altogether2     
since compilations also include  those  
text-books which contain in a small     
space the accumulated  knowledge of     
centuries4    ,there is no greater      
mistake than to suppose that the last   
work is  always the more correct2 that  
what is written later on is in every    
case an improvement on what was written 
before2 and that change always  means   
progress4 ,real thinkers1 men of right  
judgment1 people who are  in earnest    
with their subject1--these are all      
exceptions only4 ,vermin  is the rule   

everywhere in the world3 it is always on
 the alert1 taking  the mature opinions 
of the thinkers1 and industriously      
seeking to  improve upon them 7save the 
mark67 in its own peculiar way4    ,if  
the reader wishes to study any subject1 
let him beware of rushing  to the newest
 books upon it1 and confining his       
attention to them  alone1 under the     
notion that science is always advancing1
 and that the  old books have been drawn
 upon in the writing of the new4 ,they  
have  been drawn upon1 it is true2 but  
how8 ,the writer of the new book often  
does not understand the old books       
thoroughly1 and yet he is unwilling  to 
take their exact words2 so he bungles   
them1 and says in his own bad  way that 
which has been said very much better and
 more clearly by the  old writers1 who  
wrote from their own lively knowledge of
 the subject4  ,the new writer          
frequently omits the best things they   
say1 their most  striking illustrations1
 their happiest remarks2 because he does

 not  see their value or feel how       
pregnant they are4 ,the only thing that 
appeals to him is what is shallow and   
insipid4    ,it often happens that an   
old and excellent book is ousted by new 
and bad ones1 which1 written for money1 
appear with an air of great  pretension 
and much puffing on the part of friends4
 ,in science a man  tries to make his   
mark by bringing out something fresh4   
,this often  means nothing more than    
that he attacks some received theory    
which  is quite correct1 in order to    
make room for his own false notions4    
,sometimes the effort is successful for 
a time2 and then a return is  made to   
the old and true theory4 ,these         
innovators are serious about  nothing   
but their own precious self3 it is this 
that they want to put  forward1 and the 
quick way of doing so1 as they think1 is
 to start a  paradox4 ,their sterile    
heads take naturally to the path of     
negation2  so they begin to deny truths 
that have long been admitted--the vital 

power1 for example1 the sympathetic     
nervous system1 generatio  equivoca1    
,bichat's distinction between the       
working of the passions  and the working
 of intelligence2 or else they want us  
to return to  crass atomism1 and the    
like4 ,hence it frequently happens that 
the  course of science is retrogressive4
    ,to this class of writers belong    
those translators who not only          
translate their author but also correct 
and revise him2 a proceeding  which     
always seems to me impertinent4 ,to such
 writers ,i say3 ,write  books yourself 
which are worth translating1 and leave  
other people's  works as they are6      
,the reader should study1 if he can1 the
 real authors1 the men who  have founded
 and discovered things2 or1 at any rate1
 those who are  recognized as the great 
masters in every branch of knowledge4   
,let him  buy second-hand books rather  
than read their contents in new ones4   
,to  be sure1 it is easy to add to any  
new discovery--inventis aliquid  addere 

facile est2 and1 therefore1 the student1
 after well mastering  the rudiments of 
his subject1 will have to make himself  
acquainted  with the more recent        
additions to the knowledge of it4 ,and1 
in  general1 the following rule may be  
laid down here as elsewhere3 if a  thing
 is new1 it is seldom good2 because if  
it is good1 it is only for  a short time
 new4    ,what the address is to a      
letter1 the title should be to a book2  
in  other words1 its main object should 
be to bring the book to those  amongst  
the public who will take an interest in 
its contents4 ,it  should1 therefore1 be
 expressive2 and since by its very      
nature it must  be short1 it should be  
concise1 laconic1 pregnant1 and if      
possible  give the contents in one word4
 ,a prolix title is bad2 and so is one  
that says nothing1 or is obscure and    
ambiguous1 or even1 it may be1  false   
and misleading2 this last may possibly  
involve the book in the  same fate as   
overtakes a wrongly addressed letter4   

,the worst titles  of all are those     
which have been stolen1 those1 ,i mean1 
which have  already been borne by other 
books2 for they are in the first place a
  plagiarism1 and secondly the most     
convincing proof of a total lack of     
originality in the author4 ,a man who   
has not enough originality to  invent a 
new title for his book1 will be still   
less able to give it  new contents4     
,akin to these stolen titles are those  
which have been  imitated1 that is to   
say1 stolen to the extent of one half2  
for  instance1 long after ,i had        
produced my treatise ,on ,will in       
,nature1  ,oersted wrote a book entitled
 ,on ,mind in ,nature4    ,a book can   
never be anything more than the impress 
of its author's  thoughts2 and the value
 of these will lie either in the matter 
about  which he has thought1 or in the  
form which his thoughts take1 in  other 
words1 what it is that he has thought   
about it4    ,the matter of books is    
most various2 and various also are the  

several  excellences attaching to books 
on the score of their matter4 ,by matter
  ,i mean everything that comes within  
the domain of actual experience2  that  
is to say1 the facts of history and the 
facts of nature1 taken in  and by       
themselves and in their widest sense4   
,here it is the thing  treated of1 which
 gives its peculiar character to the    
book2 so that a  book can be important1 
whoever it was that wrote it4    ,but in
 regard to the form1 the peculiar       
character of a book depends  upon the   
person who wrote it4 ,it may treat of   
matters which are  accessible to        
everyone and well known2 but it is the  
way in which they  are treated1 what it 
is that is thought about them1 that     
gives the  book its value2 and this     
comes from its author4 ,if1 then1 from  
this  point of view a book is excellent 
and beyond comparison1 so is its        
author4 ,it follows that if a writer is 
worth reading1 his merit rises  just in 
proportion as he owes little to his     

matter2 therefore1 the  better known and
 the more hackneyed this is1 the greater
 he will be4  ,the three great          
tragedians of ,greece1 for example1 all 
worked at the  same subject-matter4     
,so when a book is celebrated1 care     
should be taken to note whether it  is  
so on account of its matter or its form2
 and a distinction should  be made      
accordingly4    ,books of great         
importance on account of their matter   
may proceed from  very ordinary and     
shallow people1 by the fact that they   
alone have had  access to this matter2  
books1 for instance1 which describe     
journeys in  distant lands1 rare natural
 phenomena1 or experiments2 or          
historical  occurrences of which the    
writers were witnesses1 or in connection
  with which they have spent much time  
and trouble in the research and  special
 study of original documents4    ,on the
 other hand1 where the matter is        
accessible to everyone or very  well    
known1 everything will depend upon the  

form2 and what it is  that is thought   
about the matter will give the book all 
the value  it possesses4 ,here only a   
really distinguished man will be able to
  produce anything worth reading2 for   
the others will think nothing but  what 
anyone else can think4 ,they will just  
produce an impress of  their own minds2 
but this is a print of which everyone   
possesses the  original4    ,however1   
the public is very much more concerned  
to have matter than  form2 and for this 
very reason it is deficient in any high 
degree of  culture4 ,the public shows   
its preference in this respect in the   
most  laughable way when it comes to    
deal with poetry2 for there it devotes  
much trouble to the task of tracking out
 the actual events or personal          
circumstances in the life of the poet   
which served as the occasion of  his    
various works2 nay1 these events and    
circumstances come in the end  to be of 
greater importance than the works       
themselves2 and rather than  read       

,goethe himself1 people prefer to read  
what has been written about  him1 and to
 study the legend of ,faust more        
industriously than the  drama of that   
name4 ,and when ,brger declared that    
people would write  learned             
disquisitions on the question1 ,who     
,leonora really was1 we  find this      
literally fulfilled in ,goethe's case2  
for we now possess a  great many learned
 disquisitions on ,faust and the legend 
attaching to  him4 ,study of this kind  
is1 and remains1 devoted to the material
 of  the drama alone4 ,to give such     
preference to the matter over the form1 
is as though a man were to take a fine  
,etruscan vase1 not to admire  its shape
 or coloring1 but to make a chemical    
analysis of the clay and  paint of which
 it is composed4    ,the attempt to     
produce an effect by means of the       
material employed--an  attempt which    
panders to this evil tendency of the    
public--is most to  be condemned in     
branches of literature where any merit  

there may be  lies expressly in the     
form2 ,i mean1 in poetical work4 ,for   
all that1 it  is not rare to find bad   
dramatists trying to fill the house by  
means  of the matter about which they   
write4 ,for example1 authors of this    
kind do not shrink from putting on the  
stage any man who is in any way         
celebrated1 no matter whether his life  
may have been entirely devoid  of       
dramatic incident2 and sometimes1 even1 
they do not wait until the  persons     
immediately connected with him are dead4
    ,the distinction between matter and 
form to which ,i am here alluding  also 
holds good of conversation4 ,the chief  
qualities which enable a  man to        
converse well are intelligence1         
discernment1 wit and vivacity3  these   
supply the form of conversation4 ,but it
 is not long before  attention has to be
 paid to the matter of which he speaks2 
in other  words1 the subjects about     
which it is possible to converse with   
him--his knowledge4 ,if this is very    

small1 his conversation will  not be    
worth anything1 unless he possesses the 
above-named formal  qualities in a very 
exceptional degree2 for he will have    
nothing to  talk about but those facts  
of life and nature which everybody      
knows4  ,it will be just the opposite1  
however1 if a man is deficient in these 
formal qualities1 but has an amount of  
knowledge which lends value to  what he 
says4 ,this value will then depend      
entirely upon the matter of  his        
conversation2 for1 as the ,spanish      
proverb has it1 mas sabe el  necio en su
 casa1 que el sabio en la agena--a fool 
knows more of his  own business than a  
wise man does of others4          ,,on  
,,style4      ,style is the physiognomy 
of the mind1 and a safer index to       
character  than the face4 ,to imitate   
another man's style is like wearing a   
mask1  which1 be it never so fine1 is   
not long in arousing disgust and        
abhorrence1 because it is lifeless2 so  
that even the ugliest living  face is   

better4 ,hence those who write in ,latin
 and copy the manner of  ancient        
authors1 may be said to speak through a 
mask2 the reader1 it  is true1 hears    
what they say1 but he cannot observe    
their physiognomy  too2 he cannot see   
their style4 ,with the ,latin works of  
writers  who think for themselves1 the  
case is different1 and their style is   
visible2 writers1 ,i mean1 who have not 
condescended to any sort  of imitation1 
such as ,scotus ,erigena1 ,petrarch1    
,bacon1 ,descartes1  ,spinoza1 and many 
others4 ,an affectation in style is like
 making  grimaces4 ,further1 the        
language in which a man writes is the   
physiognomy of the nation to which he   
belongs2 and here there are many  hard  
and fast differences1 beginning from the
 language of the ,greeks1  down to that 
of the ,caribbean islanders4    ,to form
 a provincial estimate of the value of a
 writer's productions1  it is not       
directly necessary to know the subject  
on which he has  thought1 or what it is 

that he has said about it2 that would   
imply  a perusal of all his works4 ,it  
will be enough1 in the main1 to know    
how he has thought4 ,this1 which means  
the essential temper or  general quality
 of his mind1 may be precisely          
determined by his style4  ,a man's style
 shows the formal nature of all his     
thoughts--the  formal nature which can  
never change1 be the subject or the     
character  of his thoughts what it may3 
it is1 as it were1 the dough out of     
which  all the contents of his mind are 
kneaded4 ,when ,eulenspiegel was asked  
how long it would take to walk to the   
next village1 he gave the  seemingly    
incongruous answer3 ,walk4 ,he wanted to
 find out by the  man's pace the        
distance he would cover in a given time4
 ,in the same  way1 when ,i have read a 
few pages of an author1 ,i know fairly  
well how  far he can bring me4    ,every
 mediocre writer tries to mask his own  
natural style1 because in  his heart he 
knows the truth of what ,i am saying4   

,he is thus forced1  at the outset1 to  
give up any attempt at being frank or   
nave--a  privilege which is thereby     
reserved for superior minds1 conscious  
of  their own worth1 and therefore sure 
of themselves4 ,what ,i mean is that    
these everyday writers are absolutely   
unable to resolve upon writing  just as 
they think2 because they have a notion  
that1 were they to do  so1 their work   
might possibly look very childish and   
simple4 ,for  all that1 it would not be 
without its value4 ,if they would only  
go  honestly to work1 and say1 quite    
simply1 the things they have really     
thought1 and just as they have thought  
them1 these writers would be  readable  
and1 within their own proper sphere1    
even instructive4    ,but instead of    
that1 they try to make the reader       
believe that their  thoughts have gone  
much further and deeper than is really  
the case4  ,they say what they have to  
say in long sentences that wind about in
 a  forced and unnatural way2 they coin 

new words and write prolix periods      
which go round and round the thought and
 wrap it up in a sort of  disguise4     
,they tremble between the two separate  
aims of communicating  what they want to
 say and of concealing it4 ,their object
 is to dress  it up so that it may look 
learned or deep1 in order to give people
  the impression that there is very much
 more in it than for the moment  meets  
the eye4 ,they either jot down their    
thoughts bit by bit1 in  short1         
ambiguous1 and paradoxical sentences1   
which apparently mean  much more than   
they say1--of this kind of writing      
,schelling's  treatises on natural      
philosophy are a splendid instance2 or  
else  they hold forth with a deluge of  
words and the most intolerable          
diffusiveness1 as though no end of fuss 
were necessary to make the  reader      
understand the deep meaning of their    
sentences1 whereas it is  some quite    
simple if not actually trivial          
idea1--examples of which  may be found  

in plenty in the popular works of       
,fichte1 and the  philosophical manuals 
of a hundred other miserable dunces not 
worth  mentioning2 or1 again1 they try  
to write in some particular style  which
 they have been pleased to take up and  
think very grand1 a style1  for example1
 par excellence profound and scientific1
 where the  reader is tormented to death
 by the narcotic effect of longspun     
periods without a single idea in        
them1--such as are furnished in  a      
special measure by those most impudent  
of all mortals1 the  ,hegelians#a2 or it
 may be that it is an intellectual style
 they have  striven after1 where it     
seems as though their object were to go 
crazy  altogether2 and so on in many    
other cases4 ,all these endeavors to put
  off the nascetur ridiculus mus--to    
avoid showing the funny little  creature
 that is born after such mighty         
throes--often make it  difficult to know
 what it is that they really mean4 ,and 
then1 too1  they write down words1 nay1 

even whole sentences1 without attaching 
any meaning to them themselves1 but in  
the hope that someone else will  get    
sense out of them4    ,footnote #a3 ,in 
their ,hegel-gazette1 commonly known as 
,jahrbcher der  wissenschaftlichen      
,literatur4    ,and what is at the      
bottom of all this8 ,nothing but the    
untiring effort  to sell words for      
thoughts2 a mode of merchandise that is 
always  trying to make fresh openings   
for itself1 and by means of odd         
expressions1 turns of phrase1 and       
combinations of every sort1 whether  new
 or used in a new sense1 to produce the 
appearence of intellect in  order to    
make up for the very painfully felt lack
 of it4    ,it is amusing to see how    
writers with this object in view will   
attempt  first one mannerism and then   
another1 as though they were putting  on
 the mask of intellect6 ,this mask may  
possibly deceive the  inexperienced for 
a while1 until it is seen to be a dead  
thing1 with  no life in it at all2 it is

 then laughed at and exchanged for      
another4  ,such an author will at one   
moment write in a dithyrambic vein1 as  
though he were tipsy2 at another1 nay1  
on the very next page1 he will  be      
pompous1 severe1 profoundly learned and 
prolix1 stumbling on in the  most       
cumbrous way and chopping up everything 
very small2 like the late  ,christian   
,wolf1 only in a modern dress4 ,longest 
of all lasts the mask  of               
unintelligibility2 but this is only in  
,germany1 whither it was  introduced by 
,fichte1 perfected by ,schelling1 and   
carried to its  highest pitch in        
,hegel--always with the best results4   
,and yet nothing is easier than to write
 so that no one can understand2  just as
 contrarily1 nothing is more difficult  
than to express deep  things in such a  
way that every one must necessarily     
grasp them4 ,all  the arts and tricks ,i
 have been mentioning are rendered      
superfluous if  the author really has   
any brains2 for that allows him to show 

himself  as he is1 and confirms to all  
time ,horace's maxim that good sense is 
the source and origin of good style3    
,scribendi recte sapere est et          
principium et fons4    ,but those       
authors ,i have named are like certain  
workers in metal1 who  try a hundred    
different compounds to take the place of
 gold--the only  metal which can never  
have any substitute4 ,rather than do    
that1 there  is nothing against which a 
writer should be more upon his guard    
than  the manifest endeavor to exhibit  
more intellect than he really has2      
because this makes the reader suspect   
that he possesses very little2  since it
 is always the case that if a man       
affects anything1 whatever  it may be1  
it is just there that he is deficient4  
,that is why it is praise to an author  
to say that he is nave2 it  means that  
he need not shrink from showing himself 
as he is4 ,generally  speaking1 to be   
nave is to be attractive2 while lack of 
naturalness  is everywhere repulsive4   

,as a matter of fact we find that every 
really great writer tries to express his
 thoughts as purely1 clearly1           
definitely and shortly as possible4     
,simplicity has always been held to  be 
a mark of truth2 it is also a mark of   
genius4 ,style receives its  beauty from
 the thought it expresses2 but with     
sham-thinkers the  thoughts are supposed
 to be fine because of the style4 ,style
 is  nothing but the mere silhouette of 
thought2 and an obscure or bad  style   
means a dull or confused brain4    ,the 
first rule1 then1 for a good style is   
that the author should  have something  
to say2 nay1 this is in itself almost   
all that is  necessary4 ,ah1 how much it
 means6 ,the neglect of this rule is a  
fundamental trait in the philosophical  
writing1 and1 in fact1 in  all the      
reflective literature1 of my country1   
more especially since  ,fichte4 ,these  
writers all let it be seen that they    
want to appear as  though they had      
something to say2 whereas they have     

nothing to say4  ,writing of this kind  
was brought in by the                   
pseudo-philosophers at the              
,universities1 and now it is current    
everywhere1 even among the first        
literary notabilities of the age4 ,it is
 the mother of that strained  and vague 
style1 where there seem to be two or    
even more meanings in  the sentence2    
also of that prolix and cumbrous manner 
of expression1  called le stile empes2  
again1 of that mere waste of words which
  consists in pouring them out like a   
flood2 finally1 of that trick  of       
concealing the direst poverty of thought
 under a farrago of  never-ending       
chatter1 which clacks away like a       
windmill and quite  stupefies one--stuff
 which a man may read for hours together
 without  getting hold of a single      
clearly expressed and definite idea4#a  
,however1 people are easy-going1 and    
they have formed the habit of  reading  
page upon page of all sorts of such     
verbiage1 without having  any particular

 idea of what the author really means4  
,they fancy it is  all as it should be1 
and fail to discover that he is writing 
simply  for writing's sake4    ,footnote
 #a3 ,select examples of the art of     
writing in this style are  to be found  
almost passim in the ,jahrbcher         
published at ,halle1  afterwards called 
the ,deutschen ,jahrbcher4    ,on the   
other hand1 a good author1 fertile in   
ideas1 soon wins his  reader's          
confidence that1 when he writes1 he has 
really and truly  something to say2 and 
this gives the intelligent reader       
patience to  follow him with attention4 
,such an author1 just because he really 
has  something to say1 will never fail  
to express himself in the simplest  and 
most straightforward manner2 because his
 object is to awake the  very same      
thought in the reader that he has in    
himself1 and no other4  ,so he will be  
able to affirm with ,boileau that his   
thoughts are  everywhere open to the    
light of the day1 and that his verse    

always  says something1 whether it says 
it well or ill3      ,ma pense au grand 
jour partout s'offre et s'expose1    ,et
 mon vers1 bien ou mal1 dit toujours    
quelque chose3    while of the writers  
previously described it may be asserted1
 in the  words of the same poet1 that   
they talk much and never say anything at
  all--quiparlant beaucoup ne disent    
jamais rien4    ,another characteristic 
of such writers is that they always     
avoid a  positive assertion wherever    
they can possibly do so1 in order to    
leave  a loophole for escape in case of 
need4 ,hence they never fail to choose  
the more abstract way of expressing     
themselves2 whereas intelligent  people 
use the more concrete2 because the      
latter brings things more  within the   
range of actual demonstration1 which is 
the source of all  evidence4    ,there  
are many examples proving this          
preference for abstract  expression2 and
 a particularly ridiculous one is       
afforded by the use  of the verb to     

condition in the sense of to cause or to
 produce4  ,people say to condition     
something instead of to cause it1       
because  being abstract and indefinite  
it says less2 it affirms that ,a cannot 
happen without ,b1 instead of that ,a is
 caused by ,b4 ,a back door  is always  
left open2 and this suits people whose  
secret knowledge of  their own          
incapacity inspires them with a         
perpetual terror of all  positive       
assertion2 while with other people it is
 merely the effect of  that tendency by 
which everything that is stupid in      
literature or bad  in life is           
immediately imitated--a fact proved in  
either case by the  rapid way in which  
it spreads4 ,the ,englishman uses his   
own judgment in  what he writes as well 
as in what he does2 but there is no     
nation of  which this eulogy is less    
true than of the ,germans4 ,the         
consequence  of this state of things is 
that the word cause has of late almost  
disappeared from the language of        

literature1 and people talk only  of    
condition4 ,the fact is worth mentioning
 because it is so  characteristically   
ridiculous4    ,the very fact that these
 commonplace authors are never more than
  half-conscious when they write1 would 
be enough to account for their  dullness
 of mind and the tedious things they    
produce4 ,i say they are  only          
half-conscious1 because they really do  
not themselves understand  the meaning  
of the words they use3 they take words  
ready-made and  commit them to memory4  
,hence when they write1 it is not so    
much words  as whole phrases that they  
put together--phrases banales4 ,this is 
the explanation of that palpable lack of
 clearly-expressed thought in  what they
 say4 ,the fact is that they do not     
possess the die to give  this stamp to  
their writing2 clear thought of their   
own is just  what they have not got4    
,and what do we find in its place8--a   
vague1  enigmatical intermixture of     
words1 current phrases1 hackneyed terms1

  and fashionable expressions4 ,the     
result is that the foggy stuff they     
write is like a page printed with very  
old type4    ,on the other hand1 an     
intelligent author really speaks to us  
when he  writes1 and that is why he is  
able to rouse our interest and commune  
with us4 ,it is the intelligent author  
alone who puts individual words         
together with a full consciousness of   
their meaning1 and chooses them  with   
deliberate design4 ,consequently1 his   
discourse stands to that of  the writer 
described above1 much as a picture that 
has been really  painted1 to one that   
has been produced by the use of a       
stencil4 ,in the  one case1 every word1 
every touch of the brush1 has a special 
purpose2  in the other1 all is done     
mechanically4 ,the same distinction may 
be  observed in music4 ,for just as     
,lichtenberg says that ,garrick's soul  
seemed to be in every muscle in his     
body1 so it is the omnipresence of      
intellect that always and everywhere    

characterizes the work of genius4    ,i 
have alluded to the tediousness which   
marks the works of these  writers2 and  
in this connection it is to be observed1
 generally1 that  tediousness is of two 
kinds2 objective and subjective4 ,a work
 is  objectively tedious when it        
contains the defect in question2 that is
  to say1 when its author has no        
perfectly clear thought or knowledge to 
communicate4 ,for if a man has any clear
 thought or knowledge in him1  his aim  
will be to communicate it1 and he will  
direct his energies  to this end2 so    
that the ideas he furnishes are         
everywhere clearly  expressed4 ,the     
result is that he is neither diffuse1   
nor unmeaning1  nor confused1 and       
consequently not tedious4 ,in such a    
case1 even  though the author is at     
bottom in error1 the error is at any    
rate  clearly worked out and well       
thought over1 so that it is at least    
formally correct2 and thus some value   
always attaches to the work4 ,but  for  

the same reason a work that is          
objectively tedious is at all times     
devoid of any value whatever4    ,the   
other kind of tediousness is only       
relative3 a reader may find a  work dull
 because he has no interest in the      
question treated of in it1  and this    
means that his intellect is restricted4 
,the best work may1  therefore1 be      
tedious subjectively1 tedious1 ,i mean1 
to this or  that particular person2 just
 as1 contrarity1 the worst work may be  
subjectively engrossing to this or that 
particular person who has an  interest  
in the question treated of1 or in the   
writer of the book4    ,it would        
generally serve writers in good stead if
 they would see that1  whilst a man     
should1 if possible1 think like a great 
genius1 he should  talk the same        
language as everyone else4 ,authors     
should use common  words to say uncommon
 things4 ,but they do just the opposite4
 ,we find  them trying to wrap up       
trivial ideas in grand words1 and to    

clothe  their very ordinary thoughts in 
the most extraordinary phrases1 the     
most far-fetched1 unnatural1 and        
out-of-the-way expressions4 ,their      
sentences perpetually stalk about on    
stilts4 ,they take so much  pleasure in 
bombast1 and write in such a high-flown1
 bloated1  affected1 hyperbolical and   
acrobatic style that their prototype is 
,ancient ,pistol1 whom his friend       
,falstaff once impatiently told to say  
what he had to say like a man of this   
world4#a    ,footnote #a3 ,king ,henry  
,,iv41 ,part ,,ii4 ,act v4 ,sc4 #c4     
,there is no expression in any other    
language exactly answering to the       
,french stile empes2 but the thing      
itself exists all the more often4  ,when
 associated with affectation1 it is in  
literature what assumption  of dignity1 
grand airs and primeness are in society2
 and equally  intolerable4 ,dullness of 
mind is fond of donning this dress2 just
 as  an ordinary life it is stupid      
people who like being demure and formal4

    ,an author who writes in the prim   
style resembles a man who dresses       
himself up in order to avoid being      
confounded or put on the same level     
with a mob--a risk never run by the     
gentleman1 even in his worst  clothes4  
,the plebeian may be known by a certain 
showiness of attire  and a wish to have 
everything spick and span2 and in the   
same way1 the  commonplace person is    
betrayed by his style4    ,nevertheless1
 an author follows a false aim if he    
tries to write  exactly as he speaks4   
,there is no style of writing but should
 have a  certain trace of kinship with  
the epigraphic or monumental style1     
which is1 indeed1 the ancestor of all   
styles4 ,for an author to write  as he  
speaks is just as reprehensible as the  
opposite fault1 to speak  as he writes2 
for this gives a pedantic effect to what
 he says1 and at  the same time makes   
him hardly intelligible4    ,an obscure 
and vague manner of expression is always
 and everywhere a  very bad sign4 ,in   

ninety-nine cases out of a hundred it   
comes from  vagueness of thought2 and   
this again almost always means that     
there is  something radically wrong and 
incongruous about the thought itself--in
  a word1 that it is incorrect4 ,when a 
right thought springs up in the  mind1  
it strives after expression and is not  
long in reaching it2 for  clear thought 
easily finds words to fit it4 ,if a man 
is capable of  thinking anything at all1
 he is also always able to express it   
in clear1 intelligible1 and unambiguous 
terms4 ,those writers who  construct    
difficult1 obscure1 involved1 and       
equivocal sentences1 most  certainly do 
not know aright what it is that they    
want to say3 they  have only a dull     
consciousness of it1 which is still in  
the stage of  struggle to shape itself  
as thought4 ,often1 indeed1 their desire
 is to  conceal from themselves and     
others that they really have nothing at 
all to say4 ,they wish to appear to know
 what they do not know1 to  think what  

they do not think1 to say what they do  
not say4 ,if a  man has some real       
communication to make1 which will he    
choose--an  indistinct or a clear way of
 expressing himself8 ,even ,quintilian  
remarks that things which are said by a 
highly educated man are often  easier to
 understand and much clearer2 and that  
the less educated  a man is1 the more   
obscurely he will write--plerumque      
accidit ut  faciliora sint ad           
intelligendum et lucidiora multo que a  
doctissimo  quoque dicuntur4444 ,erit   
ergo etiam obscurior quo quisque        
deterior4    ,an author should avoid    
enigmatical phrases2 he should know     
whether he  wants to say a thing or does
 not want to say it4 ,it is this        
indecision  of style that makes so many 
writers insipid4 ,the only case that    
offers  an exception to this rule arises
 when it is necessary to make a remark  
that is in some way improper4    ,as    
exaggeration generally produces an      
effect the opposite of  that aimed at2  

so words1 it is true1 serve to make     
thought  intelligible--but only up to a 
certain point4 ,if words are heaped up  
beyond it1 the thought becomes more and 
more obscure again4 ,to find  where the 
point lies is the problem of style1 and 
the business of the  critical faculty2  
for a word too much always defeats its  
purpose4 ,this  is what ,voltaire means 
when he says that the adjective is the  
enemy  of the substantive4 ,but1 as we  
have seen1 many people try to conceal   
their poverty of thought under a flood  
of verbiage4    ,accordingly let all    
redundancy be avoided1 all stringing    
together of  remarks which have no      
meaning and are not worth perusal4 ,a   
writer must  make a sparing use of the  
reader's time1 patience and attention2  
so as  to lead him to believe that his  
author writes what is worth careful     
study1 and will reward the time spent   
upon it4 ,it is always better to  omit  
something good than to add that which is
 not worth saying at all4  ,this is the 

right application of ,hesiod's maxim1   
,greek3 pleon aemisu  pantos#a--the half
 is more than the whole4 ,le secret pour
  tre ennuyeux1 c'est de tout dire4     
,therefore1 if possible1 the            
quintessence only6 mere leading         
thoughts6 nothing that the reader  would
 think for himself4 ,to use many words  
to communicate few thoughts  is         
everywhere the unmistakable sign of     
mediocrity4 ,to gather much  thought    
into few words stamps the man of genius4
    ,footnote #a3 ,works and ,days1 #dj4
    ,truth is most beautiful undraped2  
and the impression it makes is deep  in 
proportion as its expression has been   
simple4 ,this is so1 partly  because it 
then takes unobstructed possession of   
the hearer's whole  soul1 and leaves him
 no by-thought to distract him2 partly1 
also1  because he feels that here he is 
not being corrupted or cheated by the   
arts of rhetoric1 but that all the      
effect of what is said comes from  the  
thing itself4 ,for instance1 what       

declamation on the vanity of  human     
existence could ever be more telling    
than the words of ,job8 ,man  that is   
born of a woman hath but a short time to
 live and is full of  misery4 ,he cometh
 up1 and is cut down1 like a flower2 he 
fleeth as it  were a shadow1 and never  
continueth in one stay4    ,for the same
 reason ,goethe's nave poetry is        
incomparably greater than  ,schiller's  
rhetoric4 ,it is this1 again1 that makes
 many popular songs  so affecting4 ,as  
in architecture an excess of decoration 
is to be  avoided1 so in the art of     
literature a writer must guard against  
all  rhetorical finery1 all useless     
amplification1 and all superfluity of   
expression in general2 in a word1 he    
must strive after chastity of  style4   
,every word that can be spared is       
hurtful if it remains4 ,the law  of     
simplicity and navet holds good of all  
fine art2 for it is quite  possible to  
be at once simple and sublime4    ,true 
brevity of expression consists in       

everywhere saying only what  is worth   
saying1 and in avoiding tedious detail  
about things which  everyone can supply 
for himself4 ,this involves correct     
discrimination  between what it         
necessary and what is superfluous4 ,a   
writer should  never be brief at the    
expense of being clear1 to say nothing  
of being  grammatical4 ,it shows        
lamentable want of judgment to weaken   
the  expression of a thought1 or to     
stunt the meaning of a period for the   
sake of using a few words less4 ,but    
this is the precise endeavor  of that   
false brevity nowadays so much in vogue1
 which proceeds by  leaving out useful  
words and even by sacrificing grammar   
and logic4 ,it  is not only that such   
writers spare a word by making a single 
verb or  adjective do duty for several  
different periods1 so that the reader1  
as it were1 has to grope his way through
 them in the dark2 they also  practice1 
in many other respects1 an unseemingly  
economy of speech1  in the effort to    

effect what they foolishly take to be   
brevity of  expression and conciseness  
of style4 ,by omitting something that   
might  have thrown a light over the     
whole sentence1 they turn it into a     
conundrum1 which the reader tries to    
solve by going over it again and        
again4#a    ,footnote #a3 ,translator's 
,note4--,in the original1 ,schopenhauer 
here  enters upon a lengthy examination 
of certain common errors in the  writing
 and speaking of ,german4 ,his remarks  
are addressed to his own  countrymen1   
and would lose all point1 even if they  
were intelligible1  in an ,english      
translation4 ,but for those who practice
 their ,german by  conversing or        
corresponding with ,germans1 let me     
recommend what he  there says as a      
useful corrective to a slipshod style1  
such as can  easily be contracted if it 
is assumed that the natives of a country
  always know their own language        
perfectly4    ,it is wealth and weight  
of thought1 and nothing else1 that gives

  brevity to style1 and makes it concise
 and pregnant4 ,if a writer's  ideas are
 important1 luminous1 and generally     
worth communicating1 they  will         
necessarily furnish matter and substance
 enough to fill out the  periods which  
give them expression1 and make these in 
all their parts  both grammatically and 
verbally complete2 and so much will this
 be  the case that no one will ever find
 them hollow1 empty or feeble4 ,the     
diction will everywhere be brief and    
pregnant1 and allow the thought  to find
 intelligible and easy expression1 and  
even unfold and move  about with grace4 
,therefore instead of contracting his   
words and forms of speech1 let a  writer
 enlarge his thoughts4 ,if a man has    
been thinned by illness and  finds his  
clothes too big1 it is not by cutting   
them down1 but by  recovering his usual 
bodily condition1 that he ought to make 
them fit  him again4    ,let me here    
mention an error of style1 very         
prevalent nowadays1  and1 in the        

degraded state of literature and the    
neglect of ancient  languages1 always on
 the increase2 ,i mean subjectivity4 ,a 
writer  commits this error when he      
thinks it enough if he himself knows    
what  he means and wants to say1 and    
takes no thought for the reader1 who is 
left to get at the bottom of it as best 
he can4 ,this is as though the  author  
were holding a monologue2 whereas1 it   
ought to be a dialogue2  and a dialogue1
 too1 in which he must express himself  
all the more  clearly inasmuch as he    
cannot hear the questions of his        
interlocutor4    ,style should for this 
very reason never be subjective1 but    
objective2 and it will not be objective 
unless the words are so set  down that  
they directly force the reader to think 
precisely the same  thing as the author 
thought when he wrote them4 ,nor will   
this result  be obtained unless the     
author has always been careful to       
remember that  thought so far follows   
the law of gravity that it travels from 

head to  paper much more easily than    
from paper to head2 so that he must     
assist  the latter passage by every     
means in his power4 ,if he does this1 a 
writer's words will have a purely       
objective effect1 like that of a        
finished picture in oils2 whilst the    
subjective style is not much more       
certain in its working than spots on the
 wall1 which look like figures  only to 
one whose phantasy has been accidentally
 aroused by them2  other people see     
nothing but spots and blurs4 ,the       
difference in  question applies to      
literary method as a whole2 but it is   
often  established also in particular   
instances4 ,for example1 in a recently  
published work ,i found the following   
sentence3 ,i have not written in  order 
to increase the number of existing      
books4 ,this means just the  opposite of
 what the writer wanted to say1 and is  
nonsense as well4    ,he who writes     
carelessly confesses thereby at the very
 outset that he  does not attach much   

importance to his own thoughts4 ,for it 
is only  where a man is convinced of the
 truth and importance of his thoughts1  
that he feels the enthusiasm necessary  
for an untiring and assiduous  effort to
 find the clearest1 finest1 and         
strongest expression for  them1--just as
 for sacred relics or priceless works of
 art there are  provided silvern or     
golden receptacles4 ,it was this feeling
 that led  ancient authors1 whose       
thoughts1 expressed in their own words1 
have  lived thousands of years1 and     
therefore bear the honored title of     
classics1 always to write with care4    
,plato1 indeed1 is said to  have written
 the introduction to his ,republic seven
 times over in  different ways4#a       
,footnote #a3 ,translator's ,note4--,it 
is a fact worth mentioning that  the    
first twelve words of the ,republic are 
placed in the exact order  which would  
be natural in ,english4    ,as neglect  
of dress betrays want of respect for the
 company a man  meets1 so a hasty1      

careless1 bad style shows an outrageous 
lack of  regard for the reader1 who then
 rightly punishes it by refusing to     
read the book4 ,it is especially amusing
 to see reviewers criticising  the works
 of others in their own most careless   
style--the style of  a hireling4 ,it is 
as though a judge were to come into     
court in  dressing-gown and slippers6   
,if ,i see a man badly and dirtily      
dressed1  ,i feel some hesitation1 at   
first1 in entering into conversation    
with him3 and when1 on taking up a book1
 ,i am struck at once by the  negligence
 of its style1 ,i put it away4    ,good 
writing should be governed by the rule  
that a man can think only  one thing    
clearly at a time2 and1 therefore1 that 
he should not be  expected to think two 
or even more things in one and the same 
moment4  ,but this is what is done when 
a writer breaks up his principal        
sentence into little pieces1 for the    
purpose of pushing into the gaps  thus  
made two or three other thoughts by way 

of parenthesis2 thereby  unnecessarily  
and wantonly confusing the reader4 ,and 
here it is again  my own countrymen who 
are chiefly in fault4 ,that ,german     
lends itself  to this way of writing1   
makes the thing possible1 but does not  
justify  it4 ,no prose reads more easily
 or pleasantly than ,french1 because1 as
  a rule1 it is free from the error in  
question4 ,the ,frenchman strings  his  
thoughts together1 as far as he can1 in 
the most logical and  natural order1 and
 so lays them before his reader one     
after the other  for convenient         
deliberation1 so that every one of them 
may receive  undivided attention4 ,the  
,german1 on the other hand1 weaves them 
together into a sentence which he twists
 and crosses1 and crosses and  twists   
again2 because he wants to say six      
things all at once1 instead  of         
advancing them one by one4 ,his aim     
should be to attract and hold  the      
reader's attention2 but1 above and      
beyond neglect of this aim1 he  demands 

from the reader that he shall set the   
above mentioned rule at  defiance1 and  
think three or four different thoughts  
at one and the  same time2 or since that
 is impossible1 that his thoughts shall 
succeed each other as quickly as the    
vibrations of a cord4 ,in this way  an  
author lays the foundation of his stile 
empes1 which is then  carried to        
perfection by the use of high-flown1    
pompous expressions to  communicate the 
simplest things1 and other artifices of 
the same kind4    ,in those long        
sentences rich in involved parenthesis1 
like a box of  boxes one within another1
 and padded out like roast geese stuffed
 with  apples1 it is really the memory  
that is chiefly taxed2 while it is  the 
understanding and the judgment which    
should be called into play1  instead of 
having their activity thereby actually  
hindered and  weakened4#a ,this kind of 
sentence furnishes the reader with mere 
half-phrases1 which he is then called   
upon to collect carefully and  store up 

in his memory1 as though they were the  
pieces of a torn  letter1 afterwards to 
be completed and made sense of by the   
other  halves to which they respectively
 belong4 ,he is expected to go on       
reading for a little without exercising 
any thought1 nay1 exerting  only his    
memory1 in the hope that1 when he comes 
to the end of the  sentence1 he may see 
its meaning and so receive something to 
think  about2 and he is thus given a    
great deal to learn by heart before     
obtaining anything to understand4 ,this 
is manifestly wrong and an  abuse of the
 reader's patience4    ,footnote #a3    
,translator's ,note4--,this sentence in 
the original is  obviously meant to     
illustrate the fault of which it speaks4
 ,it does  so by the use of a           
construction very common in ,german1 but
 happily  unknown in ,english2 where1   
however1 the fault itself exists none   
the  less1 though in different form4    
,the ordinary writer has an unmistakable
 preference for this  style1 because it 

causes the reader to spend time and     
trouble in  understanding that which he 
would have understood in a moment       
without  it2 and this makes it look as  
though the writer had more depth and    
intelligence than the reader4 ,this is1 
indeed1 one of those artifices  referred
 to above1 by means of which mediocre   
authors unconsciously1  and as it were  
by instinct1 strive to conceal their    
poverty of thought  and give an         
appearance of the opposite4 ,their      
ingenuity in this  respect is really    
astounding4    ,it is manifestly against
 all sound reason to put one thought    
obliquely  on top of another1 as though 
both together formed a wooden cross4    
,but  this is what is done where a      
writer interrupts what he has begun  to 
say1 for the purpose of inserting some  
quite alien matter2 thus  depositing    
with the reader a meaningless           
half-sentence1 and bidding  him keep it 
until the completion comes4 ,it is much 
as though a man  were to treat his      

guests by handing them an empty plate1  
in the hope  of something appearing upon
 it4 ,and commas used for a similar     
purpose  belong to the same family as   
notes at the foot of the page and       
parenthesis in the middle of the text2  
nay1 all three differ only in  degree4  
,if ,demosthenes and ,cicero            
occasionally inserted words by ways  of 
parenthesis1 they would have done better
 to have refrained4    ,but this style  
of writing becomes the height of        
absurdity when the  parenthesis are not 
even fitted into the frame of the       
sentence1 but  wedged in so as directly 
to shatter it4 ,if1 for instance1 it is 
an  impertinent thing to interrupt      
another person when he is speaking1 it  
is no less impertinent to interrupt     
oneself4 ,but all bad1 careless1  and   
hasty authors1 who scribble with the    
bread actually before their  eyes1 use  
this style of writing six times on a    
page1 and rejoice in  it4 ,it consists  
in--it is advisable to give rule and    

example together1  wherever it is       
possible--breaking up one phrase in     
order to glue in  another4 ,nor is it   
merely out of laziness that they write  
thus4 ,they  do it out of stupidity2    
they think there is a charming lgret    
about it2 that it gives life to what    
they say4 ,no doubt there are a  few    
rare cases where such a form of sentence
 may be pardonable4    ,few write in the
 way in which an architect builds2 who1 
before he  sets to work1 sketches out   
his plan1 and thinks it over down to its
  smallest details4 ,nay1 most people   
write only as though they were  playing 
dominoes2 and1 as in this game1 the     
pieces are arranged half  by design1    
half by chance1 so it is with the       
sequence and connection  of their       
sentences4 ,they only have an idea of   
what the general shape  of their work   
will be1 and of the aim they set before 
themselves4  ,many are ignorant even of 
this1 and write as the coral-insects    
build2  period joins to period1 and the 

,lord only knows what the author means4 
,life now-a-days goes at a gallop2 and  
the way in which this affects           
literature is to make it extremely      
superficial and slovenly4          ,,on 
,,the ,,study ,,of ,,latin4      ,the   
abolition of ,latin as the universal    
language of learned men1  together with 
the rise of that provincialism which    
attaches to  national literatures1 has  
been a real misfortune for the cause of 
knowledge in ,europe4 ,for it was       
chiefly through the medium of the       
,latin language that a learned public   
existed in ,europe at all--a  public to 
which every book as it came out directly
 appealed4 ,the  number of minds in the 
whole of ,europe that are capable of    
thinking  and judging is small1 as it   
is2 but when the audience is broken up  
and  severed by differences of language1
 the good these minds can do is  very   
much weakened4 ,this is a great         
disadvantage2 but a second and  worse   
one will follow1 namely1 that the       

ancient languages will cease  to be     
taught at all4 ,the neglect of them is  
rapidly gaining ground  both in ,france 
and ,germany4    ,if it should really   
come to this1 then farewell1 humanity6  
farewell1  noble taste and high         
thinking6 ,the age of barbarism will    
return1 in  spite of railways1          
telegraphs and balloons4 ,we shall thus 
in the end  lose one more advantage     
possessed by all our ancestors4 ,for    
,latin is  not only a key to the        
knowledge of ,roman antiquity2 its also 
directly  opens up to us the ,middle    
,age in every country in ,europe1 and   
modern  times as well1 down to about the
 year #agej4 ,erigena1 for example1 in  
the ninth century1 ,john of ,salisbury  
in the twelfth1 ,raimond ,lully in  the 
thirteenth1 with a hundred others1 speak
 straight to us in the  very language   
that they naturally adopted in thinking 
of learned  matters4    ,they thus come 
quite close to us even at this distance 
of time3 we are  in direct contact with 

them1 and really come to know them4 ,how
 would  it have been if every one of    
them spoke in the language that was     
peculiar to his time and country8 ,we   
should not understand even the  half of 
what they said4 ,a real intellectual    
contact with them would be  impossible4 
,we should see them like shadows on the 
farthest horizon1  or1 may be1 through  
the translator's telescope4    ,it was  
with an eye to the advantage of writing 
in ,latin that ,bacon1 as  he himself   
expressly states1 proceeded to translate
 his ,essays into  that language1 under 
the title ,sermones fideles2 at which   
work  ,hobbes assisted him4#a           
,footnote #a3 ,cf4 ,thomae ,hobbes vita3
 ,carolopoli apud ,eleutherium          
,anglicum1 #afha1 p4 #bb4    ,here let  
me observe1 by way of parenthesis1 that 
when patriotism tries  to urge its      
claims in the domain of knowledge1 it   
commits an offence  which should not be 
tolerated4 ,for in those purely human   
questions  which interest all men alike1

 where truth1 insight1 beauty1 should be
  of sole account1 what can be more     
impertinent than to let preference  for 
the nation to which a man's precious    
self happens to belong1  affect the     
balance of judgment1 and thus supply a  
reason for doing  violence to truth and 
being unjust to the great minds of a    
foreign  country in order to make much  
of the smaller minds of one's own6      
,still1 there are writers in every      
nation in ,europe1 who afford  examples 
of this vulgar feeling4 ,it is this     
which led ,yriarte to  caricature them  
in the thirty-third of his charming     
,literary  ,fables4#a    ,footnote #a3  
,translator's ,note4--,tomas de ,yriarte
 7#agej-ia71 a  ,spanish poet1 and      
keeper of archives in the ,war ,office  
at ,madrid4 ,his  two best known works  
are a didactic poem1 entitled ,la       
,musica1 and  the ,fables here quoted1  
which satirize the peculiar foibles of  
literary men4 ,they have been translated
 into many languages2 into  ,english by 

,rockliffe 7#crd edition1 #ahff74 ,the  
fable in question  describes how1 at a  
picnic of the animals1 a discussion     
arose as to  which of them carried off  
the palm for superiority of talent4 ,the
  praises of the ant1 the dog1 the bee1 
and the parrot were sung in  turn2 but  
at last the ostrich stood up and        
declared for the dromedary4  ,whereupon 
the dromedary stood up and declared for 
the ostrich4 ,no one  could discover the
 reason for this mutual compliment4 ,was
 it because  both were such uncouth     
beasts1 or had such long necks1 or were 
neither  of them particularly clever or 
beautiful8 or was it because each had a 
hump8 ,no6 said the fox1 you are all    
wrong4 ,don't you see they are  both    
foreigners8 ,cannot the same be said of 
many men of learning8    ,in learning a 
language1 the chief difficulty consists 
in making  acquaintance with every idea 
which it expresses1 even though it      
should  use words for which there is no 
exact equivalent in the mother tongue2  

and this often happens4 ,in learning a  
new language a man has1 as it  were1 to 
mark out in his mind the boundaries of  
quite new spheres of  ideas1 with the   
result that spheres of ideas arise where
 none were  before4 ,thus he not only   
learns words1 he gains ideas too4       
,this is nowhere so much the case as in 
learning ancient languages1 for  the    
differences they present in their mode  
of expression as compared  with modern  
languages is greater than can be found  
amongst modern  languages as compared   
with one another4 ,this is shown by the 
fact that  in translating into ,latin1  
recourse must be had to quite other     
turns  of phrase than are used in the   
original4 ,the thought that is to be    
translated has to be melted down and    
recast2 in other words1 it must  be     
analyzed and then recomposed4 ,it is    
just this process which makes  the study
 of the ancient languages contribute so 
much to the education  of the mind4     
,it follows from this that a man's      

thought varies according to the         
language in which he speaks4 ,his ideas 
undergo a fresh modification1  a        
different shading1 as it were1 in the   
study of every new language4  ,hence an 
acquaintance with many languages is not 
only of much indirect  advantage1 but it
 is also a direct means of mental       
culture1 in that it  corrects and       
matures ideas by giving prominence to   
their many-sided  nature and their      
different varieties of meaning1 as also 
that it  increases dexterity of thought2
 for in the process of learning many    
languages1 ideas become more and more   
independent of words4 ,the  ancient     
languages effect this to a greater      
degree than the modern1 in  virtue of   
the difference to which ,i have alluded4
    ,from what ,i have said1 it is      
obvious that to imitate the style of the
  ancients in their own language1 which 
is so very much superior to ours  in    
point of grammatical perfection1 is the 
best way of preparing for a  skillful   

and finished expression of thought in   
the mother-tongue4 ,nay1  if a man wants
 to be a great writer1 he must not omit 
to do this3 just  as1 in the case of    
sculpture or painting1 the student must 
educate  himself by copying the great   
masterpieces of the past1 before        
proceeding to original work4 ,it is only
 by learning to write ,latin  that a man
 comes to treat diction as an art4 ,the 
material in this art  is language1 which
 must therefore be handled with the     
greatest care  and delicacy4    ,the    
result of such study is that a writer   
will pay keen attention to  the meaning 
and value of words1 their order and     
connection1 their  grammatical forms4   
,he will learn how to weigh them with   
precision1 and  so become an expert in  
the use of that precious instrument     
which is  meant not only to express     
valuable thought1 but to preserve it as 
well4 ,further1 he will learn to feel   
respect for the language in  which he   
writes and thus be saved from any       

attempt to remodel it by  arbitrary and 
capricious treatment4 ,without this     
schooling1 a man's  writing may easily  
degenerate into mere chatter4    ,to be 
entirely ignorant of the ,latin language
 is like being in a fine  country on a  
misty day4 ,the horizon is extremely    
limited4 ,nothing can  be seen clearly  
except that which is quite close2 a few 
steps beyond1  everything is buried in  
obscurity4 ,but the ,latinist has a wide
 view1  embracing modern times1 the     
,middle ,age and ,antiquity2 and his    
mental  horizon is still further        
enlarged if he studies ,greek or even   
,sanscrit4    ,if a man knows no ,latin1
 he belongs to the vulgar1 even though  
he be  a great virtuoso on the          
electrical machine and have the base of 
hydrofluoric acid in his crucible4      
,there is no better recreation for the  
mind than the study of the  ancient     
classics4 ,take any one of them into    
your hand1 be it only  for half an hour1
 and you will feel yourself refreshed1  

relieved1  purified1 ennobled1          
strengthened2 just as though you had    
quenched your  thirst at some pure      
spring4 ,is this the effect of the old  
language  and its perfect expression1 or
 is it the greatness of the minds whose 
works remain unharmed and unweakened by 
the lapse of a thousand years8  ,perhaps
 both together4 ,but this ,i know4 ,if  
the threatened calamity  should ever    
come1 and the ancient languages cease to
 be taught1 a new  literature will      
arise1 of such barbarous1 shallow and   
worthless stuff  as never was seen      
before4          ,,on ,,men ,,of        
,,learning4      ,when one sees the     
number and variety of institutions which
 exist  for the purposes of education1  
and the vast throng of scholars and     
masters1 one might fancy the human race 
to be very much concerned  about truth  
and wisdom4 ,but here1 too1 appearances 
are deceptive4 ,the  masters teach in   
order to gain money1 and strive1 not    
after wisdom1  but the outward show and 

reputation of it2 and the scholars      
learn1 not  for the sake of knowledge   
and insight1 but to be able to chatter  
and  give themselves airs4 ,every thirty
 years a new race comes into the        
world--a youngster that knows nothing   
about anything1 and after  summarily    
devouring in all haste the results of   
human knowledge as  they have been      
accumulated for thousands of years1     
aspires to be  thought cleverer than the
 whole of the past4 ,for this purpose he
 goes  to the ,university1 and takes to 
reading books--new books1 as being of   
his own age and standing4 ,everything he
 reads must be briefly put1  must be    
new6 he is new himself4 ,then he falls  
to and criticises4 ,and  here ,i am not 
taking the slightest account of studies 
pursued for the  sole object of making a
 living4    ,students1 and learned      
persons of all sorts and every age1 aim 
as  a rule at acquiring information     
rather than insight4 ,they pique        
themselves upon knowing about           

everything--stones1 plants1 battles1    
experiments1 and all the books in       
existence4 ,it never occurs to them     
that information is only a means of     
insight1 and in itself of little  or no 
value2 that it is his way of thinking   
that makes a man a  philosopher4 ,when  
,i hear of these portents of learning   
and their  imposing erudition1 ,i       
sometimes say to myself3 ,ah1 how little
 they  must have had to think about1 to 
have been able to read so much6  ,and   
when ,i actually find it reported of the
 elder ,pliny that he was  continually  
reading or being read to1 at table1 on a
 journey1 or in  his bath1 the question 
forces itself upon my mind1 whether the 
man  was so very lacking in thought of  
his own that he had to have  alien      
thought incessantly instilled into him2 
as though he were a  consumptive patient
 taking jellies to keep himself alive4  
,and neither  his undiscerning credulity
 nor his inexpressibly repulsive and    
barely  intelligible style--which seems 

like of a man taking notes1 and very    
economical of paper--is of a kind to    
give me a high opinion of his  power of 
independent thought4    ,we have seen   
that much reading and learning is       
prejudicial to thinking  for oneself2   
and1 in the same way1 through much      
writing and teaching1  a man loses the  
habit of being quite clear1 and         
therefore thorough1 in  regard to the   
things he knows and understands2 simply 
because he has  left himself no time to 
acquire clearness or thoroughness4 ,and 
so1  when clear knowledge fails him in  
his utterances1 he is forced to fill    
out the gaps with words and phrases4 ,it
 is this1 and not the dryness  of the   
subject-matter1 that makes most books   
such tedious reading4  ,there is a      
saying that a good cook can make a      
palatable dish even  out of an old shoe2
 and a good writer can make the dryest  
things  interesting4    ,with by far the
 largest number of learned men1         
knowledge is a means1  not an end4 ,that

 is why they will never achieve any     
great work2  because1 to do that1 he who
 pursues knowledge must pursue it as an 
end1 and treat everything else1 even    
existence itself1 as only a  means4 ,for
 everything which a man fails to pursue 
for its own sake is  but half-pursued2  
and true excellence1 no matter in what  
sphere1 can  be attained only where the 
work has been produced for its own sake 
alone1 and not as a means to further    
ends4    ,and so1 too1 no one will ever 
succeed in doing anything really great  
and original in the way of thought1 who 
does not seek to acquire  knowledge for 
himself1 and1 making this the immediate 
object of his  studies1 decline to      
trouble himself about the knowledge of  
others4 ,but  the average man of        
learning studies for the purpose of     
being able to  teach and write4 ,his    
head is like a stomach and intestines   
which let  the food pass through them   
undigested4 ,that is just why his       
teaching  and writing is of so little   

use4 ,for it is not upon undigested     
refuse  that people can be nourished1   
but solely upon the milk which secretes 
from the very blood itself4    ,the wig 
is the appropriate symbol of the man of 
learning1 pure and  simple4 ,it adorns  
the head with a copious quantity of     
false hair1 in  lack of one's own3 just 
as erudition means endowing it with a   
great  mass of alien thought4 ,this1 to 
be sure1 does not clothe the head so    
well and naturally1 nor is it so        
generally useful1 nor so suited for  all
 purposes1 nor so firmly rooted2 nor    
when alien thought is used up1  can it  
be immediately replaced by more from the
 same source1 as is  the case with that 
which springs from soil of one's own4   
,so we find  ,sterne1 in his ,tristram  
,shandy1 boldly asserting that an ounce 
of a  man's own wit is worth a ton of   
other people's4    ,and in fact the most
 profound erudition is no more akin to  
genius than  a collection of dried      
plants in like ,nature1 with its        

constant flow  of new life1 ever fresh1 
ever young1 ever changing4 ,there are no
 two  things more opposed than the      
childish navet of an ancient author and 
the learning of his commentator4        
,dilettanti1 dilettanti6 ,this is the   
slighting way in which those who  pursue
 any branch of art or learning for the  
love and enjoyment of the  thing1--per  
il loro diletto1 are spoken of by those 
who have taken  it up for the sake of   
gain1 attracted solely by the prospect  
of money4  ,this contempt of theirs     
comes from the base belief that no man  
will  seriously devote himself to a     
subject1 unless he is spurred on to it  
by want1 hunger1 or else some form of   
greed4 ,the public is of the same  way  
of thinking2 and hence its general      
respect for professionals and  its      
distrust of dilettanti4 ,but the truth  
is that the dilettante  treats his      
subject as an end1 whereas the          
professional1 pure and  simple1 treats  
it merely as a means4 ,he alone will be 

really in  earnest about a matter1 who  
has a direct interest therein1 takes to 
it  because he likes it1 and pursues it 
con amore4 ,it is these1 and not        
hirelings1 that have always done the    
greatest work4    ,in the republic of   
letters it is as in other republics2    
favor is shown  to the plain man--he who
 goes his way in silence and does not   
set up  to be cleverer than others4 ,but
 the abnormal man is looked upon as     
threatening danger2 people band together
 against him1 and have1 oh6  such a     
majority on their side4    ,the         
condition of this republic is much like 
that of a small ,state in  ,america1    
where every man is intent only upon his 
own advantage1 and  seeks reputation and
 power for himself1 quite heedless of   
the general  weal1 which then goes to   
ruin4 ,so it is in the republic of      
letters2  it is himself1 and himself    
alone1 that a man puts forward1 because 
he  wants to gain fame4 ,the only thing 
in which all agree is in trying to  keep

 down a really eminent man1 if he should
 chance to show himself1  as one who    
would be a common peril4 ,from this it  
is easy to see how it  fares with       
knowledge as a whole4    ,between       
professors and independent men of       
learning there has always  been from of 
old a certain antagonism1 which may     
perhaps be likened  to that existing    
been dogs and wolves4 ,in virtue of     
their position1  professors enjoy great 
facilities for becoming known to their  
contemporaries4 ,contrarily1 independent
 men of learning enjoy1 by  their       
position1 great facilities for becoming 
known to posterity2 to  which it is     
necessary that1 amongst other and much  
rarer gifts1 a man  should have a       
certain leisure and freedom4 ,as mankind
 takes a long  time in finding out on   
whom to bestow its attention1 they may  
both  work together side by side4    ,he
 who holds a professorship may be said  
to receive his food in the  stall2 and  
this is the best way with ruminant      

animals4 ,but he who  finds his food for
 himself at the hands of ,nature is     
better off in the  open field4    ,of   
human knowledge as a whole and in every 
branch of it1 by far the  largest part  
exists nowhere but on paper1--,i mean1  
in books1 that  paper memory of mankind4
 ,only a small part of it is at any     
given  period really active in the minds
 of particular persons4 ,this is due1   
in the main1 to the brevity and         
uncertainty of life2 but it also comes  
from the fact that men are lazy and bent
 on pleasure4 ,every generation         
attains1 on its hasty passage through   
existence1 just so much of human        
knowledge as it needs1 and then soon    
disappears4 ,most men of learning  are  
very superficial4 ,then follows a new   
generation1 full of hope1 but  ignorant1
 and with everything to learn from the  
beginning4 ,it seizes1  in its turn1    
just so much as it can grasp or find    
useful on its brief  journey and then   
too goes its way4 ,how badly it would   

fare with human  knowledge if it were   
not for the art of writing and printing6
 ,this it  is that makes libraries the  
only sure and lasting memory of the     
human  race1 for its individual members 
have all of them but a very limited  and
 imperfect one4 ,hence most men of      
learning as are loth to have  their     
knowledge examined as merchants to lay  
bare their books4    ,human knowledge   
extends on all sides farther than the   
eye can reach2  and of that which would 
be generally worth knowing1 no one man  
can  possess even the thousandth part4  
,all branches of learning have thus been
 so much enlarged that he  who would do 
something has to pursue no more than one
 subject and  disregard all others4 ,in 
his own subject he will then1 it is     
true1 be  superior to the vulgar2 but in
 all else he will belong to it4 ,if we  
add to this that neglect of the ancient 
languages1 which is now-a-days  on the  
increase and is doing away with all     
general education in the                

humanities--for a mere smattering of    
,latin and ,greek is of no use--we      
shall come to have men of learning who  
outside their own subject  display an   
ignorance truly bovine4    ,an exclusive
 specialist of this kind stands on a par
 with a workman in  a factory1 whose    
whole life is spent in making one       
particular kind of  screw1 or catch1 or 
handle1 for some particular instrument  
or machine1  in which1 indeed1 he       
attains incredible dexterity4 ,the      
specialist may  also be likened to a man
 who lives in his own house and never   
leaves  it4 ,there he is perfectly      
familiar with everything1 every little  
step1  corner1 or board2 much as        
,quasimodo in ,victor ,hugo's ,ntre     
,dame  knows the cathedral2 but outside 
it1 all is strange and unknown4    ,for 
true culture in the humanities it is    
absolutely necessary that  a man should 
be many-sided and take large views2 and 
for a man of  learning in the higher    
sense of the word1 an extensive         

acquaintance  with history is needful4  
,he1 however1 who wishes to be a        
complete  philosopher1 must gather into 
his head the remotest ends of human     
knowledge3 for where else could they    
ever come together8    ,it is precisely 
minds of the first order that will never
 be  specialists4 ,for their very nature
 is to make the whole of existence      
their problem2 and this is a subject    
upon which they will every one of  them 
in some form provide mankind with a new 
revelation4 ,for he alone  can deserve  
the name of genius who takes the ,all1  
the ,essential1 the  ,universal1 for the
 theme of his achievements2 not he who  
spends his  life in explaining some     
special relation of things one to       
another4          ,,on ,,thinking ,,for 
,,oneself4      ,a library may be very  
large2 but if it is in disorder1 it is  
not so  useful as one that is small but 
well arranged4 ,in the same way1 a man  
may have a great mass of knowledge1 but 
if he has not worked it up  by thinking 

it over for himself1 it has much less   
value than a far  smaller amount which  
he has thoroughly pondered4 ,for it is  
only when a  man looks at his knowledge 
from all sides1 and combines the things 
he  knows by comparing truth with truth1
 that he obtains a complete hold  over  
it and gets it into his power4 ,a man   
cannot turn over anything in  his mind  
unless he knows it2 he should1          
therefore1 learn something2  but it is  
only when he has turned it over that he 
can be said to know  it4    ,reading and
 learning are things that anyone can do 
of his own free  will2 but not so       
thinking4 ,thinking must be kindled1    
like a fire  by a draught2 it must be   
sustained by some interest in the matter
  in hand4 ,this interest may be of     
purely objective kind1 or merely        
subjective4 ,the latter comes into play 
only in things that concern  us         
personally4 ,objective interest is      
confined to heads that think by  nature2
 to whom thinking is as natural as      

breathing2 and they are very  rare4     
,this is why most men of learning show  
so little of it4    ,it is incredible   
what a different effect is produced upon
 the mind  by thinking for oneself1 as  
compared with reading4 ,it carries on   
and  intensifies that original          
difference in the nature of two minds   
which  leads the one to think and the   
other to read4 ,what ,i mean is that    
reading forces alien thoughts upon the  
mind--thoughts which are as  foreign to 
the drift and temper in which it may be 
for the moment1 as  the seal is to the  
wax on which it stamps its imprint4 ,the
 mind is  thus entirely under compulsion
 from without2 it is driven to think    
this or that1 though for the moment it  
may not have the slightest  impulse or  
inclination to do so4    ,but when a man
 thinks for himself1 he follows the     
impulse of his  own mind1 which is      
determined for him at the time1 either  
by his  environment or some particular  
recollection4 ,the visible world of  a  

man's surroundings does not1 as reading 
does1 impress a single  definite thought
 upon his mind1 but merely gives the    
matter and  occasion which lead him to  
think what is appropriate to his nature 
and  present temper4 ,so it is1 that    
much reading deprives the mind of all   
elasticity2 it is like keeping a spring 
continually under pressure4  ,the safest
 way of having no thoughts of one's own 
is to take up a book  every moment one  
has nothing else to do4 ,it is this     
practice which  explains why erudition  
makes most men more stupid and silly    
than they  are by nature1 and prevents  
their writings obtaining any measure of 
success4 ,they remain1 in ,pope's words3
      ,for ever reading1 never to be    
read6#a    ,footnote #a3 ,dunciad1 iii1 
#aid4    ,men of learning are those who 
have done their reading in the pages of 
a book4 ,thinkers and men of genius are 
those who have gone straight  to the    
book of ,nature2 it is they who have    
enlightened the world and  carried      

humanity further on its way4 ,if a man's
 thoughts are to have  truth and life in
 them1 they must1 after all1 be his own 
fundamental  thoughts2 for these are the
 only ones that he can fully and wholly 
understand4 ,to read another's thoughts 
is like taking the leavings of  a meal  
to which we have not been invited1 or   
putting on the clothes  which some      
unknown visitor has laid aside4 ,the    
thought we read  is related to the      
thought which springs up in ourselves1  
as the  fossil-impress of some          
prehistoric plant to a plant as it buds 
forth  in spring-time4    ,reading is   
nothing more than a substitute for      
thought of one's own4 ,it  means putting
 the mind into leading-strings4 ,the    
multitude of books  serves only to show 
how many false paths there are1 and how 
widely  astray a man may wander if he   
follows any of them4 ,but he who  is    
guided by his genius1 he who thinks for 
himself1 who thinks  spontaneously and  
exactly1 possesses the only compass by  

which he can  steer aright4 ,a man      
should read only when his own thoughts  
stagnate  at their source1 which will   
happen often enough even with the best  
of  minds4 ,on the other hand1 to take  
up a book for the purpose of scaring    
away one's own original thoughts is sin 
against the ,holy ,spirit4 ,it is  like 
running away from ,nature to look at a  
museum of dried plants or  gaze at a    
landscape in copperplate4    ,a man may 
have discovered some portion of truth or
 wisdom1 after  spending a great deal of
 time and trouble in thinking it over   
for  himself and adding thought to      
thought2 and it may sometimes happen    
that he could have found it all ready to
 hand in a book and spared  himself the 
trouble4 ,but even so1 it is a hundred  
times more valuable  if he has acquired 
it by thinking it out for himself4 ,for 
it is only  when we gain our knowledge  
in this way that it enters as an        
integral  part1 a living member1 into   
the whole system of our thought2 that it

  stands in complete and firm relation  
with what we know2 that it is           
understood with all that underlies it   
and follows from it2 that it  wears the 
color1 the precise shade1 the           
distinguishing mark1 of our  own way of 
thinking2 that it comes exactly at the  
right time1 just  as we felt the        
necessity for it2 that it stands fast   
and cannot be  forgotten4 ,this is the  
perfect application1 nay1 the           
interpretation1  of ,goethe's advice to 
earn our inheritance for ourselves so   
that we  may really possess it3         
,was due ererbt von deinen ,vlern hast1 
,erwirb es1 um es zu besitzen4#a        
,footnote #a3 ,faust1 ,i4 #cbi4    ,the 
man who thinks for himself1 forms his   
own opinions and learns the  authorities
 for them only later on1 when they serve
 but to strengthen  his belief in them  
and in himself4 ,but the                
book-philosopher starts  from the       
authorities4 ,he reads other people's   
books1 collects their  opinions1 and so 

forms a whole for himself1 which        
resembles an  automaton made up of      
anything but flesh and blood4           
,contrarily1 he who  thinks for himself 
creates a work like a living man as made
 by ,nature4  ,for the work comes into  
being as a man does2 the thinking mind  
is  impregnated from without1 and it    
then forms and bears its child4         
,truth that has been merely learned is  
like an artificial limb1 a false  tooth1
 a waxen nose2 at best1 like a nose made
 out of another's flesh2  it adheres to 
us only because it is put on4 ,but truth
 acquired by  thinking of our own is    
like a natural limb2 it alone really    
belongs  to us4 ,this is the fundamental
 difference between the thinker and the 
mere man of learning4 ,the intellectual 
attainments of a man who thinks  for    
himself resemble a fine painting1 where 
the light and shade are  correct1 the   
tone sustained1 the color perfectly     
harmonized2 it is  true to life4 ,on the
 other hand1 the intellectual           

attainments of the  mere man of learning
 are like a large palette1 full of all  
sorts of  colors1 which at most are     
systematically arranged1 but devoid of  
harmony1 connection and meaning4        
,reading is thinking with some one      
else's head instead of one's own4 ,to   
think with one's own head is always to  
aim at developing a coherent  whole--a  
system1 even though it be not a strictly
 complete one2 and  nothing hinders this
 so much as too strong a current of     
others'  thoughts1 such as comes of     
continual reading4 ,these thoughts1     
springing every one of them from        
different minds1 belonging to  different
 systems1 and tinged with different     
colors1 never of  themselves flow       
together into an intellectual whole2    
they never form a  unity of knowledge1  
or insight1 or conviction2 but1 rather1 
fill  the head with a ,babylonian       
confusion of tongues4 ,the mind that is 
over-loaded with alien thought is thus  
deprived of all clear insight1  and is  

well-nigh disorganized4 ,this is a state
 of things observable  in many men of   
learning2 and it makes them inferior in 
sound sense1  correct judgment and      
practical tact1 to many illiterate      
persons1  who1 after obtaining a little 
knowledge from without1 by means of     
experience1 intercourse with others1 and
 a small amount of reading1  have always
 subordinated it to1 and embodied it    
with1 their own  thought4    ,the really
 scientific thinker does the same thing 
as these  illiterate persons1 but on a  
larger scale4 ,although he has need  of 
much knowledge1 and so must read a great
 deal1 his mind is  nevertheless strong 
enough to master it all1 to assimilate  
and  incorporate it with the system of  
his thoughts1 and so to make it  fit in 
with the organic unity of his insight1  
which1 though vast1 is  always growing4 
,and in the process1 his own thought1   
like the bass in  an organ1 always      
dominates everything and is never       
drowned by other  tones1 as happens with

 minds which are full of mere           
antiquarian lore2  where shreds of      
music1 as it were1 in every key1 mingle 
confusedly1  and no fundamental note is 
heard at all4    ,those who have spent  
their lives in reading1 and taken their 
wisdom  from books1 are like people who 
have obtained precise information  about
 a country from the descriptions of many
 travellers4 ,such  people can tell a   
great deal about it2 but1 after all1    
they have no  connected1 clear1 and     
profound knowledge of its real          
condition4 ,but  those who have spent   
their lives in thinking1 resemble the   
travellers  themselves2 they alone      
really know what they are talking about2
 they  are acquainted with the actual   
state of affairs1 and are quite at home 
in the subject4    ,the thinker stands  
in the same relation to the ordinary    
book-philosopher as an eye-witness does 
to the historian2 he speaks  from direct
 knowledge of his own4 ,that is why all 
those who think  for themselves come1 at

 bottom1 to much the same conclusion4   
,the  differences they present are due  
to their different points of view2  and 
when these do not affect the matter1    
they all speak alike4 ,they  merely     
express the result of their own         
objective perception of things4  ,there 
are many passages in my works which ,i  
have given to the public  only after    
some hesitation1 because of their       
paradoxical nature2 and  afterwards ,i  
have experienced a pleasant surprise in 
finding the same  opinion recorded in   
the works of great men who lived long   
ago4    ,the book-philosopher merely    
reports what one person has said and    
another meant1 or the objections raised 
by a third1 and so on4 ,he  compares    
different opinions1 ponders1 criticises1
 and tries to get at  the truth of the  
matter2 herein on a par with the        
critical historian4  ,for instance1 he  
will set out to inquire whether         
,leibnitz was not for  some time a      
follower of ,spinoza1 and questions of a

 like nature4 ,the  curious student of  
such matters may find conspicuous       
examples of what  ,i mean in ,herbart's 
,analytical ,elucidation of ,morality   
and ,natural  ,right1 and in the same   
author's ,letters on ,freedom4 ,surprise
 may  be felt that a man of the kind    
should put himself to so much trouble2  
for1 on the face of it1 if he would only
 examine the matter for  himself1 he    
would speedily attain his object by the 
exercise of a  little thought4 ,but     
there is a small difficulty in the way4 
,it does  not depend upon his own will4 
,a man can always sit down and read1 but
  not--think4 ,it is with thoughts as   
with men2 they cannot always be         
summoned at pleasure2 we must wait for  
them to come4 ,thought about a  subject 
must appear of itself1 by a happy and   
harmonious combination  of external     
stimulus with mental temper and         
attention2 and it is just  that which   
never seems to come to these people4    
,this truth may be illustrated by what  

happens in the case of matters          
affecting our own personal interest4    
,when it is necessary to come to  some  
resolution in a matter of that kind1 we 
cannot well sit down at  any given      
moment and think over the merits of the 
case and make up our  mind2 for1 if we  
try to do so1 we often find ourselves   
unable1 at that  particular moment1 to  
keep our mind fixed upon the subject2 it
 wanders  off to other things4 ,aversion
 to the matter in question is sometimes 
to blame for this4 ,in such a case we   
should not use force1 but wait  for the 
proper frame of mind to come of itself4 
,it often comes  unexpectedly and       
returns again and again2 and the variety
 of temper in  which we approach it at  
different moments puts the matter always
 in a  fresh light4 ,it is this long    
process which is understood by the term 
a ripe resolution4 ,for the work of     
coming to a resolution must be          
distributed2 and in the process much    
that is overlooked at one moment  occurs

 to us at another2 and the repugnance   
vanishes when we find1 as  we usually   
do1 on a closer inspection1 that things 
are not so bad as  they seemed4    ,this
 rule applies to the life of the        
intellect as well as to matters  of     
practice4 ,a man must wait for the right
 moment4 ,not even the  greatest mind is
 capable of thinking for itself at all  
times4 ,hence a  great mind does well to
 spend its leisure in reading1 which1 as
 ,i have  said1 is a substitute for     
thought2 it brings stuff to the mind by 
letting another person do the thinking2 
although that is always done  in a      
manner not our own4 ,therefore1 a man   
should not read too much1 in  order that
 his mind may not become accustomed to  
the substitute and  thereby forget the  
reality2 that it may not form the habit 
of walking  in well-worn paths2 nor by  
following an alien course of thought    
grow a  stranger to its own4 ,least of  
all should a man quite withdraw his gaze
  from the real world for the mere sake 

of reading2 as the impulse and  the     
temper which prompt to thought of one's 
own come far oftener from  the world of 
reality than from the world of books4   
,the real life that  a man sees before  
him is the natural subject of thought2  
and in its  strength as the primary     
element of existence1 it can more easily
 than  anything else rouse and influence
 the thinking mind4    ,after these     
considerations1 it will not be matter   
for surprise that  a man who thinks for 
himself can easily be distinguished from
 the  book-philosopher by the very way  
in which he talks1 by his marked        
earnestness1 and the originality1       
directness1 and personal conviction     
that stamp all his thoughts and         
expressions4 ,the book-philosopher1 on  
the other hand1 lets it be seen that    
everything he has is second-hand2  that 
his ideas are like the number and trash 
of an old furniture-shop1  collected    
together from all quarters4 ,mentally1  
he is dull and  pointless--a copy of a  

copy4 ,his literary style is made up of 
conventional1 nay1 vulgar phrases1 and  
terms that happen to be  current2 in    
this respect much like a small ,state   
where all the money  that circulates is 
foreign1 because it has no coinage of   
its own4    ,mere experience can as     
little as reading supply the place of   
thought4  ,it stands to thinking in the 
same relation in which eating stands  to
 digestion and assimilation4 ,when      
experience boasts that to its           
discoveries alone is due the advancement
 of the human race1 it is as  though the
 mouth were to claim the whole credit of
 maintaining the  body in health4       
,the works of all truly capable minds   
are distinguished by a character  of    
decision and definiteness1 which means  
they are clear and free  from obscurity4
 ,a truly capable mind always knows     
definitely and  clearly what it is that 
it wants to express1 whether its medium 
is  prose1 verse1 or music4 ,other minds
 are not decisive and not definite2  and

 by this they may be known for what they
 are4    ,the characteristic sign of a  
mind of the highest order is that it    
always judges at first hand4 ,everything
 it advances is the result of  thinking 
for itself2 and this is everywhere      
evident by the way in  which it gives   
its thoughts utterance4 ,such a mind is 
like a ,prince4  ,in the realm of       
intellect its authority is imperial1    
whereas the  authority of minds of a    
lower order is delegated only2 as may be
 seen  in their style1 which has no     
independent stamp of its own4    ,every 
one who really thinks for himself is so 
far like a monarch4  ,his position is   
undelegated and supreme4 ,his judgments1
 like royal  decrees1 spring from his   
own sovereign power and proceed directly
 from  himself4 ,he acknowledges        
authority as little as a monarch admits 
a  command2 he subscribes to nothing but
 what he has himself authorized4  ,the  
multitude of common minds1 laboring     
under all sorts of current  opinions1   

authorities1 prejudices1 is like the    
people1 which silently  obeys the law   
and accepts orders from above4    ,those
 who are so zealous and eager to settle 
debated questions by  citing            
authorities1 are really glad when they  
are able to put the  understanding and  
the insight of others into the field in 
place of  their own1 which are wanting4 
,their number is legion4 ,for1 as       
,seneca says1 there is no man but       
prefers belief to the exercise  of      
judgment--unusquisque mavult credere    
quam judicare4 ,in their  controversies 
such people make a promiscuous use of   
the weapon of  authority1 and strike out
 at one another with it4 ,if any one    
chances  to become involved in such a   
contest1 he will do well not to try     
reason and argument as a mode of        
defence2 for against a weapon of that   
kind these people are like ,siegfrieds1 
with a skin of horn1 and dipped  in the 
flood of incapacity for thinking and    
judging4 ,they will meet  his attack by 

bringing up their authorities as a way  
of abashing  him--argumentum ad         
verecundiam1 and then cry out that they 
have won  the battle4    ,in the real   
world1 be it never so fair1 favorable   
and pleasant1  we always live subject to
 the law of gravity which we have to  be
 constantly overcoming4 ,but in the     
world of intellect we are  disembodied  
spirits1 held in bondage to no such law1
 and free from  penury and distress4    
,thus it is that there exists no        
happiness on  earth like that which1 at 
the auspicious moment1 a fine and       
fruitful  mind finds in itself4    ,the 
presence of a thought is like the       
presence of a woman we love4 ,we  fancy 
we shall never forget the thought nor   
become indifferent to the  dear one4    
,but out of sight1 out of mind6 ,the    
finest thought runs the  risk of being  
irrevocably forgotten if we do not write
 it down1 and  the darling of being     
deserted if we do not marry her4        
,there are plenty of thoughts which are 

valuable to the man who thinks  them2   
but only few of them which have enough  
strength to produce  repercussive or    
reflect action--,i mean1 to win the     
reader's sympathy  after they have been 
put on paper4    ,but still it must not 
be forgotten that a true value attaches 
only  to what a man has thought in the  
first instance for his own case4        
,thinkers may be classed according as   
they think chiefly for their own  case  
or for that of others4 ,the former are  
the genuine independent  thinkers2 they 
really think and are really independent2
 they are the  true philosophers2 they  
alone are in earnest4 ,the pleasure and 
the  happiness of their existence       
consists in thinking4 ,the others are   
the  sophists2 they want to seem that   
which they are not1 and seek their      
happiness in what they hope to get from 
the world4 ,they are in earnest  about  
nothing else4 ,to which of these two    
classes a man belongs may be  seen by   
his whole style and manner4 ,lichtenberg

 is an example for the  former class2   
,herder1 there can be no doubt1 belongs 
to the second4    ,when one considers   
how vast and how close to us is the     
problem of  existence--this equivocal1  
tortured1 fleeting1 dream-like existence
  of ours--so vast and so close that a  
man no sooner discovers it than  it     
overshadows and obscures all other      
problems and aims2 and when  one sees   
how all men1 with few and rare          
exceptions1 have no clear  consciousness
 of the problem1 nay1 seem to be quite  
unaware of its  presence1 but busy      
themselves with everything rather than  
with this1  and live on1 taking no      
thought but for the passing day and the 
hardly  longer span of their own        
personal future1 either expressly       
discarding  the problem or else         
over-ready to come to terms with it by  
adopting  some system of popular        
metaphysics and letting it satisfy them2
 when1  ,i say1 one takes all this to   
heart1 one may come to the opinion that 

man may be said to be a thinking being  
only in a very remote  sense1 and       
henceforth feel no special surprise at  
any trait of human  thoughtlessness or  
folly2 but know1 rather1 that the normal
 man's  intellectual range of vision    
does indeed extend beyond that of the   
brute1 whose whole existence is1 as it  
were1 a continual present1  with no     
consciousness of the past or the future1
 but not such an  immeasurable distance 
as is generally supposed4    ,this is1  
in fact1 corroborated by the way in     
which most men converse2  where their   
thoughts are found to be chopped up     
fine1 like chaff1 so  that for them to  
spin out a discourse of any length is   
impossible4    ,if this world were      
peopled by really thinking beings1 it   
could not be  that noise of every kind  
would be allowed such generous limits1  
as is  the case with the most horrible  
and at the same time aimless form of    
it4#a ,if ,nature had meant man to      
think1 she would not have given him     

ears2 or1 at any rate1 she would have   
furnished them with airtight  flaps1    
such as are the enviable possession of  
the bat4 ,but1 in truth1  man is a poor 
animal like the rest1 and his powers are
 meant only to  maintain him in the     
struggle for existence2 so he must need 
keep his  ears always open1 to announce 
of themselves1 by night as by day1 the  
approach of the pursuer4    ,footnote   
#a3 ,translator's ,note4--,schopenhauer 
refers to the cracking  of whips4 ,see  
the ,essay ,on ,noise in ,studies in    
,pessimism4    ,in the drama1 which is  
the most perfect reflection of human    
existence1  there are three stages in   
the presentation of the subject1 with a 
corresponding variety in the design and 
scope of the piece4    ,at the first1   
which is also the most common1 stage1   
the drama is  never anything more than  
merely interesting4 ,the persons gain   
our  attention by following their own   
aims1 which resemble ours2 the action   
advances by means of intrigue and the   

play of character and incident2  while  
wit and raillery season the whole4      
,at the second stage1 the drama becomes 
sentimental4 ,sympathy is  roused with  
the hero and1 indirectly1 with          
ourselves4 ,the action takes  a pathetic
 turn2 but the end is peaceful and      
satisfactory4    ,the climax is reached 
with the third stage1 which is the most 
difficult4 ,there the drama aims at     
being tragic4 ,we are brought face  to  
face with great suffering and the storm 
and stress of existence2  and the       
outcome of it is to show the vanity of  
all human effort4  ,deeply moved1 we are
 either directly prompted to disengage  
our will  from the struggle of life1 or 
else a chord is struck in us which      
echoes a similar feeling4    ,the       
beginning1 it is said1 is always        
difficult4 ,in the drama it is  just the
 contrary2 for these the difficulty     
always lies in the end4  ,this is proved
 by countless plays which promise very  
well for  the first act or two1 and then

 become muddled1 stick or               
falter--notoriously so in the fourth    
act--and finally conclude in a  way that
 is either forced or unsatisfactory or  
else long foreseen by  every one4       
,sometimes1 too1 the end is positively  
revolting1 as in  ,lessing's ,emilia    
,galotti1 which sends the spectators    
home in a  temper4    ,this difficulty  
in regard to the end of a play arises   
partly because  it is everywhere easier 
to get things into a tangle than to get 
them  out again2 partly also because at 
the beginning we give the author  carte 
blanche to do as he likes1 but1 at the  
end1 make certain  definite demands upon
 him4 ,thus we ask for a conclusion that
 shall be  either quite happy or else   
quite tragic2 whereas human affairs do  
not  easily take so decided a turn2 and 
then we expect that it shall be         
natural1 fit and proper1 unlabored1 and 
at the same time foreseen by  no one4   
,these remarks are also applicable to an
 epic and to a novel2 but the  more     

compact nature of the drama makes the   
difficulty plainer by  increasing it4   
,e nihilo nihil fit4 ,that nothing can  
come from nothing is a maxim  true in   
fine art as elsewhere4 ,in composing an 
historical picture1 a  good artist will 
use living men as a model1 and take the 
groundwork  of the faces from life2 and 
then proceed to idealize them in point  
of  beauty or expression4 ,a similar    
method1 ,i fancy1 is adopted by good    
novelists4 ,in drawing a character they 
take a general outline of it  from some 
real person of their acquaintance1 and  
then idealize and  complete it to suit  
their purpose4    ,a novel will be of a 
high and noble order1 the more it       
represents  of inner1 and the less it   
represents of outer1 life2 and the ratio
  between the two will supply a means of
 judging any novel1 of whatever  kind1  
from ,tristram ,shandy down to the      
crudest and most sensational  tale of   
knight or robber4 ,tristram ,shandy has1
 indeed1 as good as  no action at all2  

and there is not much in ,la ,nouvelle  
,helose and  ,wilhelm ,meister4 ,even   
,don ,quixote has relatively little2 and
 what  there is1 very unimportant1 and  
introduced merely for the sake of fun4  
,and these four are the best of all     
existing novels4    ,consider1 further1 
the wonderful romances of ,jean ,paul1  
and how much  inner life is shown on the
 narrowest basis of actual event4 ,even 
in  ,walter ,scott's novels there is a  
great preponderance of inner over  outer
 life1 and incident is never brought in 
except for the purpose of  giving play  
to thought and emotion2 whereas1 in bad 
novels1 incident  is there on its own   
account4 ,skill consists in setting the 
inner life  in motion with the smallest 
possible array of circumstance2 for it  
is  this inner life that really excites 
our interest4    ,the business of the   
novelist is not to relate great events1 
but to  make small ones interesting4    
,history1 which ,i like to think of as  
the contrary of poetry ,greek3          

istoroumenon--pepoiaemenon1 is for time 
what geography is for space2  and it is 
no more to be called a science1 in any  
strict sense of the  word1 than is      
geography1 because it does not deal with
 universal  truths1 but only with       
particular details4 ,history has always 
been the  favorite study of those who   
wish to learn something1 without having 
to  face the effort demanded by any     
branch of real knowledge1 which taxes   
the intelligence4 ,in our time history  
is a favorite pursuit2 as  witness the  
numerous books upon the subject which   
appear every year4    ,if the reader    
cannot help thinking1 with me1 that     
history is merely  the constant         
recurrence of similar things1 just as in
 a kaleidoscope  the same bits of glass 
are represented1 but in different       
combinations1  he will not be able to   
share all this lively interest2 nor1    
however1  will he censure it4 ,but there
 is a ridiculous and absurd claim1 made 
by many people1 to regard history as a  

part of philosophy1 nay1 as  philosophy 
itself2 they imagine that history can   
take its place4    ,the preference shown
 for history by the greater public in   
all ages may  be illustrated by the kind
 of conversation which is so much in    
vogue  everywhere in society4 ,it       
generally consists in one person        
relating  something and then another    
person relating something else2 so that 
in  this way everyone is sure of        
receiving attention4 ,both here and in  
the  case of history it is plain that   
the mind is occupied with particular    
details4 ,but as in science1 so also in 
every worthy conversation1 the  mind    
rises to the consideration of some      
general truth4    ,this objection does  
not1 however1 deprive history of its    
value4 ,human  life is short and        
fleeting1 and many millions of          
individuals share in  it1 who are       
swallowed by that monster of oblivion   
which is waiting for  them with         
ever-open jaws4 ,it is thus a very      

thankworthy task to try to  rescue      
something--the memory of interesting and
 important events1 or  the leading      
features and personages of some         
epoch--from the general  shipwreck of   
the world4    ,from another point of    
view1 we might look upon history as the 
sequel  to zoology2 for while with all  
other animals it is enough to observe   
the species1 with man individuals1 and  
therefore individual events  have to be 
studied2 because every man possesses a  
character as an  individual4 ,and since 
individuals and events are without      
number or  end1 an essential            
imperfection attaches to history4 ,in   
the study of  it1 all that a man learns 
never contributes to lessen that which  
he  has still to learn4 ,with any real  
science1 a perfection of knowledge  is1 
at any rate1 conceivable4    ,when we   
gain access to the histories of ,china  
and of ,india1 the  endlessness of the  
subject-matter will reveal to us the    
defects in the  study1 and force our    

historians to see that the object of    
science is  to recognize the many in the
 one1 to perceive the rules in any given
  example1 and to apply to the life of  
nations a knowledge of mankind2  not to 
go on counting up facts ad infinitum4   
,there are two kinds of history2 the    
history of politics and the  history of 
literature and art4 ,the one is the     
history of the will2  the other1 that of
 the intellect4 ,the first is a tale of 
woe1 even of  terror3 it is a record of 
agony1 struggle1 fraud1 and horrible    
murder  en masse4 ,the second is        
everywhere pleasing and serene1 like the
  intellect when left to itself1 even   
though its path be one of error4  ,its  
chief branch is the history of          
philosophy4 ,this is1 in fact1 its      
fundamental bass1 and the notes of it   
are heard even in the other  kind of    
history4 ,these deep tones guide the    
formation of opinion1 and  opinion rules
 the world4 ,hence philosophy1 rightly  
understood1 is a  material force of the 

most powerful kind1 though very slow in 
its  working4 ,the philosophy of a      
period is thus the fundamental bass of  
its history4    ,the ,,newspaper1 is the
 second-hand in the clock of history2   
and it is  not only made of baser metal 
than those which point to the minute and
  the hour1 but it seldom goes right4   
,the so-called leading article is the   
chorus to the drama of passing  events4 
,exaggeration of every kind is as       
essential to journalism as it is to  the
 dramatic art2 for the object of        
journalism is to make events go  as far 
as possible4 ,thus it is that all       
journalists are1 in the very  nature of 
their calling1 alarmists2 and this is   
their way of giving  interest to what   
they write4 ,herein they are like little
 dogs2 if  anything stirs1 they         
immediately set up a shrill bark4       
,therefore1 let us carefully regulate   
the attention to be paid to this        
trumpet of danger1 so that it may not   
disturb our digestion4 ,let us          

recognize that a newspaper is at best   
but a magnifying-glass1 and very  often 
merely a shadow on the wall4    ,the pen
 is to thought what the stick is to     
walking2 but you walk  most easily when 
you have no stick1 and you think with   
the greatest  perfection when you have  
no pen in your hand4 ,it is only when a 
man  begins to be old that he likes to  
use a stick and is glad to take up  his 
pen4    ,when an hypothesis has once    
come to birth in the mind1 or gained a  
footing there1 it leads a life so far   
comparable with the life of an          
organism1 as that it assimilates matter 
from the outer world only when  it is   
like in kind with it and beneficial2 and
 when1 contrarily1 such  matter is not  
like in kind but hurtful1 the           
hypothesis1 equally with  the organism1 
throws it off1 or1 if forced to take it1
 gets rid of it  again entire4    ,to   
gain immortality an author must possess 
so many excellences that  while it will 
not be easy to find anyone to understand

 and appreciate  them all1 there will be
 men in every age who are able to       
recognize  and value some of them4 ,in  
this way the credit of his book will be 
maintained throughout the long course of
 centuries1 in spite of the  fact that  
human interests are always changing4    
,an author like this1 who has a claim to
 the continuance of his life  even with 
posterity1 can only be a man who1 over  
the wide earth1 will  seek his like in  
vain1 and offer a palpable contrast with
 everyone  else in virtue of his        
unmistakable distinction4 ,nay1 more3   
were he1  like the wandering ,jew1 to   
live through several generations1 he    
would  still remain in the same superior
 position4 ,if this were not so1 it     
would be difficult to see why his       
thoughts should not perish like  those  
of other men4    ,metaphors and similes 
are of great value1 in so far as they   
explain an unknown relation by a known  
one4 ,even the more detailed  simile    
which grows into a parable or an        

allegory1 is nothing more than  the     
exhibition of some relation in its      
simplest1 most visible and  palpable    
form4 ,the growth of ideas rests1 at    
bottom1 upon similes2  because ideas    
arise by a process of combining the     
similarities and  neglecting the        
differences between things4 ,further1   
intelligence1 in  the strict sense of   
the word1 ultimately consists in a      
seizing of  relations2 and a clear and  
pure grasp of relations is all the more 
often attained when the comparison is   
made between cases that lie wide  apart 
from one another1 and between things of 
quite different nature4  ,as long as a  
relation is known to me as existing only
 in a single  case1 ,i have but an      
individual idea of it--in other words1  
only an  intuitive knowledge of it2 but 
as soon as ,i see the same relation in  
two different cases1 ,i have a general  
idea of its whole nature1 and  this is a
 deeper and more perfect knowledge4     
,since1 then1 similes and metaphors are 

such a powerful engine of  knowledge1 it
 is a sign of great intelligence in a   
writer if his  similes are unusual and1 
at the same time1 to the point4         
,aristotle  also observes that by far   
the most important thing to a writer is 
to have this power of metaphor2 for it  
is a gift which cannot be  acquired1 and
 it is a mark of genius4    ,as regards 
reading1 to require that a man shall    
retain everything he  has ever read1 is 
like asking him to carry about with him 
all he has  ever eaten4 ,the one kind of
 food has given him bodily1 and the     
other  mental1 nourishment2 and it is   
through these two means that he has     
grown to be what he is4 ,the body       
assimilates only that which is like  it2
 and so a man retains in his mind only  
that which interests him1 in  other     
words1 that which suits his system of   
thought or his purposes in  life4    ,if
 a man wants to read good books1 he must
 make a point of avoiding  bad ones2 for
 life is short1 and time and energy     

limited4    ,repetitio est mater        
studiorum4 ,any book that is at all     
important  ought to be at once read     
through twice2 partly because1 on a     
second  reading1 the connection of the  
different portions of the book will be  
better understood1 and the beginning    
comprehended only when the end  is      
known2 and partly because we are not in 
the same temper and  disposition on both
 readings4 ,on the second perusal we get
 a new view  of every passage and a     
different impression of the whole book1 
which  then appears in another light4   
,a man's works are the quintessence of  
his mind1 and even though he may        
possess very great capacity1 they will  
always be incomparably more  valuable   
than his conversation4 ,nay1 in all     
essential matters his  works will not   
only make up for the lack of personal   
intercourse with  him1 but they will far
 surpass it in solid advantages4 ,the   
writings  even of a man of moderate     
genius may be edifying1 worth reading   

and  instructive1 because they are his  
quintessence--the result and fruit  of  
all his thought and study2 whilst       
conversation with him may be            
unsatisfactory4    ,so it is that we can
 read books by men in whose company we  
find  nothing to please1 and that a high
 degree of culture leads us to seek     
entertainment almost wholly from books  
and not from men4          ,,on         
,,criticism4      ,the following brief  
remarks on the critical faculty are     
chiefly  intended to show that1 for the 
most part1 there is no such thing4  ,it 
is a rara avis2 almost as rare1 indeed1 
as the phoenix1 which  appears only once
 in five hundred years4    ,when we     
speak of taste--an expression not chosen
 with any regard for  it--we mean the   
discovery1 or1 it may be only the       
recognition1 of what  is right          
aesthetically1 apart from the guidance  
of any rule2 and  this1 either because  
no rule has as yet been extended to the 
matter in  question1 or else because1 if

 existing1 it is unknown to the artist1 
or the critic1 as the case may be4      
,instead of taste1 we might use  the    
expression aesthetic sense1 if this were
 not tautological4    ,the perceptive   
critical taste is1 so to speak1 the     
female analogue  to the male quality of 
productive talent or genius4 ,not       
capable  of begetting great work itself1
 it consists in a capacity of           
reception1 that is to say1 of           
recognizing as such what is right1  fit1
 beautiful1 or the reverse2 in other    
words1 of discriminating  the good from 
the bad1 of discovering and appreciating
 the one and  condemning the other4     
,in appreciating a genius1 criticism    
should not deal with the errors in  his 
productions or with the poorer of his   
works1 and then proceed to  rate him    
low2 it should attend only to the       
qualities in which he most  excels4 ,for
 in the sphere of intellect1 as in other
 spheres1 weakness  and perversity      
cleave so firmly to human nature that   

even the most  brilliant mind is not    
wholly and at all times free from them4 
,hence  the great errors to be found    
even in the works of the greatest men2  
or  as ,horace puts it1 quandoque bonus 
dormitat ,homerus4    ,that which       
distinguishes genius1 and should be the 
standard for  judging it1 is the height 
to which it is able to soar when it is  
in  the proper mood and finds a fitting 
occasion--a height always out  of the   
reach of ordinary talent4 ,and1 in like 
manner1 it is a very  dangerous thing to
 compare two great men of the same      
class2 for  instance1 two great poets1  
or musicians1 or philosophers1 or       
artists2  because injustice to the one  
or the other1 at least for the moment1  
can hardly be avoided4 ,for in making a 
comparison of the kind the  critic looks
 to some particular merit of the one and
 at once discovers  that it is absent in
 the other1 who is thereby disparaged4  
,and then  if the process is reversed1  
and the critic begins with the latter   

and  discovers his peculiar merit1 which
 is quite of a different order from     
that presented by the former1 with whom 
it may be looked for in vain1  the      
result is that both of them suffer undue
 depreciation4    ,there are critics who
 severally think that it rests with each
 one of  them what shall be accounted   
good1 and what bad4 ,they all mistake   
their own toy-trumpets for the trombones
 of fame4    ,a drug does not effect its
 purpose if the dose is too large2 and  
it  is the same with censure and adverse
 criticism when it exceeds the  measure 
of justice4    ,the disastrous thing for
 intellectual merit is that it must wait
 for  those to praise the good who have 
themselves produced nothing but what  is
 bad2 nay1 it is a primary misfortune   
that it has to receive its  crown at the
 hands of the critical power of         
mankind--a quality of  which most men   
possess only the weak and impotent      
semblance1 so that  the reality may be  
numbered amongst the rarest gifts of    

nature4 ,hence  ,la ,bruyre's remark is1
 unhappily1 as true as it is neat4 ,aprs
  l'esprit de discernement1 he says1 ce 
qu'il y a au monde de plus  rare1 ce    
sont les diamans et les perles4 ,the    
spirit of discernment6  the critical    
faculty6 it is these that are lacking4  
,men do not know  how to distinguish the
 genuine from the false1 the corn from  
the  chaff1 gold from copper2 or to     
perceive the wide gulf that separates  a
 genius from an ordinary man4 ,thus we  
have that bad state of things  described
 in an old-fashioned verse1 which gives 
it as the lot of the  great ones here on
 earth to be recognized only when they  
are gone3      ,es ist nun das ,geschick
 der ,grossen fiier auf ,erden1    ,erst
 wann sie nicht mehr sind2 von uns      
erkannt zu werden4    ,when any genuine 
and excellent work makes its appearance1
 the chief  difficulty in its way is the
 amount of bad work it finds already in 
possession of the field1 and accepted as
 though it were good4 ,and  then if1    

after a long time1 the new comer really 
succeeds1 by a hard  struggle1 in       
vindicating his place for himself and   
winning reputation1  he will soon       
encounter fresh difficulty from some    
affected1 dull1  awkward imitator1 whom 
people drag in1 with the object of      
calmly  setting him up on the altar     
beside the genius2 not seeing the       
difference and really thinking that here
 they have to do with another  great    
man4 ,this is what ,yriarte means by the
 first lines of his  twenty-eighth      
,fable1 where he declares that the      
ignorant rabble always  sets equal value
 on the good and the bad3      ,siempre 
acostumbra hacer el vulgo necio    ,de  
lo bueno y lo malo igual aprecio4    ,so
 even ,shakespeare's dramas had1        
immediately after his death1 to give    
place to those of ,ben ,jonson1         
,massinger1 ,beaumont and ,fletcher1 and
 to  yield the supremacy for a hundred  
years4 ,so ,kant's serious philosophy   
was crowded out by the nonsense of      

,fichte1 ,schelling1 ,jacobi1 ,hegel4   
,and even in a sphere accessible to all1
 we have seen unworthy  imitators       
quickly diverting public attention from 
the incomparable  ,walter ,scott4 ,for1 
say what you will1 the public has no    
sense for  excellence1 and therefore no 
notion how very rare it is to find men  
really capable of doing anything great  
in poetry1 philosophy1 or art1  or that 
their works are alone worthy of         
exclusive attention4 ,the  dabblers1    
whether in verse or in any other high   
sphere1 should be  every day unsparingly
 reminded that neither gods1 nor men1   
nor  booksellers have pardoned their    
mediocrity3          mediocribus esse   
poetis    ,non homines1 non ,d1 non     
concessere columnae4#a    ,footnote #a3 
,horace1 ,ars ,poetica1 #cgb4    ,are   
they not the weeds that prevent the corn
 coming up1 so that they  may cover all 
the ground themselves8 ,and then there  
happens that which  has been well and   
freshly described by the lamented       

,feuchtersleben1#a  who died so young3  
how people cry out in their haste that  
nothing  is being done1 while all the   
while great work is quietly growing to  
maturity2 and then1 when it appears1 it 
is not seen or heard in the  clamor1 but
 goes its way silently1 in modest grief3
      ,ist doch--rufen sie vermessen--  
,nichts im ,werke1 nichts gethan6       
,und das ,grosse1 reift indessen        
,still heran4      ,es ersheint nun3    
niemand sieht es1    ,niemand hrt es im 
,geschrei    ,mit bescheid'ner ,trauer  
zieht es    ,still vorbei4    ,footnote 
#a3 ,translator's ,note4--,ernst        
,freiherr von ,feuchtersleben           
7#ahjf-di71 an ,austrian physician1     
philosopher1 and poet1 and a  specialist
 in medical psychology4 ,the best known 
of his songs is that  beginning ,es ist 
bestimmt in ,gottes ,rath to which      
,mendelssohn  composed one of his finest
 melodies4    ,this lamentable death of 
the critical faculty is not less obvious
 in  the case of science1 as is shown by

 the tenacious life of false and        
disproved theories4 ,if they are once   
accepted1 they may go on bidding        
defiance to truth for fifty or even a   
hundred years and more1 as  stable as an
 iron pier in the midst of the waves4   
,the ,ptolemaic system  was still held a
 century after ,copernicus had          
promulgated his theory4  ,bacon1        
,descartes and ,locke made their way    
extremely slowly and only  after a long 
time2 as the reader may see by          
d',alembert's celebrated  ,preface to   
the ,encyclopedia4 ,newton was not more 
successful2 and  this is sufficiently   
proved by the bitterness and contempt   
with which  ,leibnitz attacked his      
theory of gravitation in the controversy
 with  ,clarke4#a ,although ,newton     
lived for almost forty years after the  
appearance of the ,principia1 his       
teaching was1 when he died1 only  to    
some extent accepted in his own country1
 whilst outside ,england he  counted    
scarcely twenty adherents2 if we may    

believe the introductory  note to       
,voltaire's exposition of his theory4   
,it was1 indeed1 chiefly  owing to this 
treatise of ,voltaire's that the system 
became known in  ,france nearly twenty  
years after ,newton's death4 ,until then
 a firm1  resolute1 and patriotic stand 
was made by the ,cartesian ,vortices2   
whilst only forty years previously1 this
 same ,cartesian philosophy had  been   
forbidden in the ,french schools2 and   
now in turn d',agnesseau1 the           
,chancellor1 refused ,voltaire the      
,imprimatur for his treatise on the     
,newtonian doctrine4 ,on the other hand1
 in our day ,newton's absurd  theory of 
color still completely holds the field1 
forty years after  the publication of   
,goethe's4 ,hume1 too1 was disregarded  
up to his  fiftieth year1 though he     
began very early and wrote in a         
thoroughly  popular style4 ,and ,kant1  
in spite of having written and talked   
all his  life long1 did not become a    
famous man until he was sixty4          

,footnote #a3 ,see especially  #ce1     
#aac1 #aah1 #abj1 #abb1 #abh4           
,artists and poets have1 to be sure1    
more chance than thinkers1 because      
their public is at least a hundred times
 as large4 ,still1 what was  thought of 
,beethoven and ,mozart during their     
lives8 what of ,dante8  what even of    
,shakespeare8 ,if the latter's          
contemporaries had in any  way          
recognized his worth1 at least one good 
and accredited portrait of  him would   
have come down to us from an age when   
the art of painting  flourished2 whereas
 we possess only some very doubtful     
pictures1 a  bad copperplate1 and a     
still worse bust on his tomb4#a ,and in 
like  manner1 if he had been duly       
honored1 specimens of his handwriting   
would have been preserved to us by the  
hundred1 instead of being  confined1 as 
is the case1 to the signatures to a few 
legal documents4  ,the ,portuguese are  
still proud of their only poet ,camons4 
,he lived1  however1 on alms collected  

every evening in the street by a black  
slave whom he had brought with him from 
the ,indies4 ,in time1 no doubt1        
justice will be done everyone2 tempo    
galant uomo2 but it is  as late and slow
 in arriving as in a court of law1 and  
the secret  condition of it is that the 
recipient shall be no longer alive4 ,the
  precept of ,jesus the son of ,sirach  
is faithfully followed3 ,judge none     
blessed before his death4#b ,he1 then1  
who has produced immortal  works1 must  
find comfort by applying to them the    
words of the ,indian  myth1 that the    
minutes of life amongst the immortals   
seem like years  of earthly existence2  
and so1 too1 that years upon earth are  
only as  the minutes of the immortals4  
,footnote #a3 ,a4 ,wivell3 ,an ,inquiry 
into the ,history1 ,authenticity1  and  
,characteristics of ,shakespeare's      
,portraits2 with #ba engravings4        
,london1 #ahcf4    ,footnote #b3        
,ecclesiasticus1 xi4 #bh4    ,this lack 
of critical insight is also shown by the

 fact that1 while  in every century the 
excellent work of earlier time is held  
in honor1  that of its own is           
misunderstood1 and the attention which  
is its due  is given to bad work1 such  
as every decade carries with it only to 
be  the sport of the next4 ,that men are
 slow to recognize genuine merit  when  
it appears in their own age1 also proves
 that they do not  understand or enjoy  
or really value the long-acknowledged   
works of  genius1 which they honor only 
on the score of authority4 ,the crucial 
test is the fact that bad               
work--,fichte's philosophy1 for         
example--if  it wins any reputation1    
also maintains it for one or two        
generations2  and only when its public  
is very large does its fall follow      
sooner4    ,now1 just as the sun cannot 
shed its light but to the eye that sees 
it1 nor music sound but to the hearing  
ear1 so the value of all  masterly work 
in art and science is conditioned by the
 kinship and  capacity of the mind to   

which it speaks4 ,it is only such a mind
 as  this that possesses the magic word 
to stir and call forth the spirits  that
 lie hidden in great work4 ,to the      
ordinary mind a masterpiece is  a sealed
 cabinet of mystery1--an unfamiliar     
musical instrument from  which the      
player1 however much he may flatter     
himself1 can draw none  but confused    
tones4 ,how different a painting looks  
when seen in a good  light1 as compared 
with some dark corner6 ,just in the same
 way1 the  impression made by a         
masterpiece varies with the capacity of 
the mind  to understand it4    ,a fine  
work1 then1 requires a mind sensitive to
 its beauty2 a  thoughtful work1 a mind 
that can really think1 if it is to exist
 and  live at all4 ,but alas6 it may    
happen only too often that he who gives 
a fine work to the world afterwards     
feels like a maker of fireworks1  who   
displays with enthusiasm the wonders    
that have taken him so much  time and   
trouble to prepare1 and then learns that

 he has come to the  wrong place1 and   
that the fancied spectators were one and
 all inmates  of an asylum for the      
blind4 ,still even that is better than  
if his  public had consisted entirely of
 men who made fireworks themselves2 as  
in this case1 if his display had been   
extraordinarily good1 it might  possibly
 have cost him his head4    ,the source 
of all pleasure and delight is the      
feeling of kinship4 ,even  with the     
sense of beauty it is unquestionably our
 own species in the  animal world1 and  
then again our own race1 that appears to
 us the  fairest4 ,so1 too1 in          
intercourse with others1 every man shows
 a  decided preference for those who    
resemble him2 and a blockhead will  find
 the society of another blockhead       
incomparably more pleasant  than that of
 any number of great minds put together4
 ,every man must  necessarily take his  
chief pleasure in his own work1 because 
it is the  mirror of his own mind1 the  
echo of his own thought2 and next in    

order  will come the work of people like
 him2 that is to say1 a dull1 shallow   
and perverse man1 a dealer in mere      
words1 will give his sincere and  hearty
 applause only to that which is dull1   
shallow1 perverse or  merely verbose4   
,on the other hand1 he will allow merit 
to the work of  great minds only on the 
score of authority1 in other words1     
because  he is ashamed to speak his     
opinion2 for in reality they give him no
  pleasure at all4 ,they do not appeal  
to him2 nay1 they repel him2 and  he    
will not confess this even to himself4  
,the works of genius cannot  be fully   
enjoyed except by those who are         
themselves of the privileged  order4    
,the first recognition of them1 however1
 when they exist without  authority to  
support them1 demands considerable      
superiority of mind4    ,when the reader
 takes all this into consideration1 he  
should be  surprised1 not that great    
work is so late in winning reputation1  
but  that it wins it at all4 ,and as a  

matter of fact1 fame comes only by a    
slow and complex process4 ,the stupid   
person is by degrees forced1 and  as it 
were1 tamed1 into recognizing the       
superiority of one who stands           
immediately above him2 this one in his  
turn bows before some one else2  and so 
it goes on until the weight of the votes
 gradually prevail over  their number2  
and this is just the condition of all   
genuine1 in other  words1 deserved fame4
 ,but until then1 the greatest genius1  
even after  he has passed his time of   
trial1 stands like a king amidst a crowd
 of  his own subjects1 who do not know  
him by sight and therefore will not  do 
his behests2 unless1 indeed1 his chief  
ministers of state are in  his train4   
,for no subordinate official can be the 
direct recipient of  the royal commands1
 as he knows only the signature of his  
immediate  superior2 and this is        
repeated all the way up into the highest
 ranks1  where the under-secretary      
attests the minister's signature1 and   

the  minister that of the king4 ,there  
are analogous stages to be passed       
before a genius can attain widespread   
fame4 ,this is why his reputation  most 
easily comes to a standstill at the very
 outset2 because the  highest           
authorities1 of whom there can be but   
few1 are most frequently  not to be     
found2 but the further down he goes in  
the scale the more  numerous are those  
who take the word from above1 so that   
his fame is  no more arrested4    ,we   
must console ourselves for this state of
 things by reflecting that  it is really
 fortunate that the greater number of   
men do not form a  judgment on their own
 responsibility1 but merely take it on  
authority4  ,for what sort of criticism 
should we have on ,plato and ,kant1     
,homer1  ,shakespeare and ,goethe1 if   
every man were to form his opinion by   
what  he really has and enjoys of these 
writers1 instead of being forced by     
authority to speak of them in a fit and 
proper way1 however little  he may      

really feel what he says4 ,unless       
something of this kind took  place1 it  
would be impossible for true merit1 in  
any high sphere1 to  attain fame at all4
 ,at the same time it is also fortunate 
that every  man has just so much        
critical power of his own as is         
necessary for  recognizing the          
superiority of those who are placed     
immediately over  him1 and for following
 their lead4 ,this means that the many  
come in  the end to submit to the       
authority of the few2 and there results 
that  hierarchy of critical judgments on
 which is based the possibility of a    
steady1 and eventually wide-reaching1   
fame4    ,the lowest class in the       
community is quite impervious to the    
merits  of a great genius2 and for these
 people there is nothing left but the   
monument raised to him1 which1 by the   
impression it produces on their  senses1
 awakes in them a dim idea of the man's 
greatness4    ,literary journals should 
be a dam against the unconscionable     

scribbling of the age1 and the          
ever-increasing deluge of bad and       
useless books4 ,their judgments should  
be uncorrupted1 just and  rigorous2 and 
every piece of bad work done by an      
incapable person2  every device by which
 the empty head tries to come to the    
assistance  of the empty purse1 that is 
to say1 about nine-tenths of all        
existing  books1 should be mercilessly  
scourged4 ,literary journals would then 
perform their duty1 which is to keep    
down the craving for writing and  put a 
check upon the deception of the public1 
instead of furthering  these evils by a 
miserable toleration1 which plays into  
the hands of  author and publisher1 and 
robs the reader of his time and his     
money4    ,if there were such a paper as
 ,i mean1 every bad writer1 every       
brainless compiler1 every plagiarist    
from other's books1 every hollow  and   
incapable place-hunter1 every           
sham-philosopher1 every vain and        
languishing poetaster1 would shudder at 

the prospect of the pillory  in which   
his bad work would inevitably have to   
stand soon after  publication4 ,this    
would paralyze his twitching fingers1 to
 the true  welfare of literature1 in    
which what is bad is not only useless   
but  positively pernicious4 ,now1 most  
books are bad and ought to have         
remained unwritten4 ,consequently praise
 should be as rare as is now  the case  
with blame1 which is withheld under the 
influence of personal  considerations1  
coupled with the maxim accedas socius1  
laudes  lauderis ut absens4    ,it is   
quite wrong to try to introduce into    
literature the same  toleration as must 
necessarily prevail in society towards  
those  stupid1 brainless people who     
everywhere swarm in it4 ,in literature  
such people are impudent intruders2 and 
to disparage the bad is here  duty      
towards the good2 for he who thinks     
nothing bad will think  nothing good    
either4 ,politeness1 which has its      
source in social  relations1 is in      

literature an alien1 and often          
injurious1 element2  because it exacts  
that bad work shall be called good4 ,in 
this way the  very aim of science and   
art is directly frustrated4    ,the     
ideal journal could1 to be sure1 be     
written only by people who  joined      
incorruptible honesty with rare         
knowledge and still rarer power  of     
judgment2 so that perhaps there could1  
at the very most1 be one1  and even     
hardly one1 in the whole country2 but   
there it would stand1  like a just      
,aeropagus1 every member of which would 
have to be elected  by all the others4  
,under the system that prevails at      
present1 literary  journals are carried 
on by a clique1 and secretly perhaps    
also by  booksellers for the good of the
 trade2 and they are often nothing but  
coalitions of bad heads to prevent the  
good ones succeeding4 ,as  ,goethe once 
remarked to me1 nowhere is there so much
 dishonesty as in  literature4    ,but1 
above all1 anonymity1 that shield of all

 literary rascality1  would have to     
disappear4 ,it was introduced under the 
pretext of  protecting the honest       
critic1 who warned the public1 against  
the  resentment of the author and his   
friends4 ,but where there is one case   
of this sort1 there will be a hundred   
where it merely serves to take  all     
responsibility from the man who cannot  
stand by what he has said1  or possibly 
to conceal the shame of one who has been
 cowardly and base  enough to recommend 
a book to the public for the purpose of 
putting  money into his own pocket4     
,often enough it is only a cloak for    
covering the obscurity1 incompetence and
 insignificance of the critic4  ,it is  
incredible what impudence these fellows 
will show1 and what  literary trickery  
they will venture to commit1 as soon as 
they know  they are safe under the      
shadow of anonymity4 ,let me recommend a
  general ,anti-criticism1 a universal  
medicine or panacea1 to put a  stop to  
all anonymous reviewing1 whether it     

praises the bad or blames  the good3    
,rascal6 your name6 ,for a man to wrap  
himself up and draw  his hat over his   
face1 and then fall upon people who are 
walking about  without any              
disguise--this is not the part of a     
gentleman1 it is the  part of a         
scoundrel and a knave4    ,an anonymous 
review has no more authority than an    
anonymous letter2  and one should be    
received with the same mistrust as the  
other4 ,or  shall we take the name of   
the man who consents to preside over    
what  is1 in the strict sense of the    
word1 une socit anonyme as a  guarantee 
for the veracity of his colleagues8     
,even ,rousseau1 in the preface to the  
,nouvelle ,helose1 declares  tout honnte
 homme doit avouer les livres qu'il     
public2 which in  plain language means  
that every honorable man ought to sign  
his  articles1 and that no one is       
honorable who does not do so4 ,how much 
truer this is of polemical writing1     
which is the general character  of      

reviews6 ,riemer was quite right in the 
opinion he gives in his  ,reminiscences 
of ,goethe3#a ,an overt enemy1 he says1 
an enemy  who meets you face to face1 is
 an honorable man1 who will treat you   
fairly1 and with whom you can come to   
terms and be reconciled3 but an  enemy  
who conceals himself is a base1 cowardly
 scoundrel1 who has  not courage enough 
to avow his own judgment2 it is not his 
opinion  that he cares about1 but only  
the secret pleasures of wreaking his    
anger without being found out or        
punished4 ,this will also have been     
,goethe's opinion1 as he was generally  
the source from which ,riemer  drew his 
observations4 ,and1 indeed1 ,rousseau's 
maxim applies to  every line that is    
printed4 ,would a man in a mask ever be 
allowed to  harangue a mob1 or speak in 
any assembly2 and that1 too1 when he was
  going to attack others and overwhelm  
them with abuse8    ,footnote #a3       
,preface1 p4 xxix4    ,anonymity is the 
refuge for all literary and journalistic

 rascality4  ,it is a practice which    
must be completely stopped4 ,every      
article1 even  in a newspaper1 should be
 accompanied by the name of its author2 
and  the editor should be made strictly 
responsible for the accuracy of the     
signature4 ,the freedom of the press    
should be thus far restricted2 so  that 
when a man publicly proclaims through   
the far-sounding trumpet of  the        
newspaper1 he should be answerable for  
it1 at any rate with his  honor1 if he  
has any2 and if he has none1 let his    
name neutralize the  effect of his      
words4 ,and since even the most         
insignificant person is  known in his   
own circle1 the result of such a measure
 would be to  put an end to two-thirds  
of the newspaper lies1 and to restrain  
the  audacity of many a poisonous       
tongue4          ,,on ,,reputation4     
,writers may be classified as meteors1  
planets and fixed stars4 ,a  meteor     
makes a striking effect for a moment4   
,you look up and cry  ,there6 and it is 

gone for ever4 ,planets and wandering   
stars last  a much longer time4 ,they   
often outshine the fixed stars and are  
confounded with them by the             
inexperienced2 but this only because    
they  are near4 ,it is not long before  
they must yield their place2 nay1 the   
light they give is reflected only1 and  
the sphere of their influence  is       
confined to their own orbit--their      
contemporaries4 ,their path is  one of  
change and movement1 and with the       
circuit of a few years their  tale is   
told4 ,fixed stars are the only ones    
that are constant2 their  position in   
the firmament is secure2 they shine with
 a light of their  own2 their effect    
to-day is the same as it was yesterday1 
because1  having no parallax1 their     
appearance does not alter with a        
difference  in our standpoint4 ,they    
belong not to one system1 one nation    
only1  but to the universe4 ,and just   
because they are so very far away1 it is
  usually many years before their light 

is visible to the inhabitants of  this  
earth4    ,we have seen in the previous 
chapter that where a man's merits are of
  a high order1 it is difficult for him 
to win reputation1 because the  public  
is uncritical and lacks discernment4    
,but another and no less  serious       
hindrance to fame comes from the envy it
 has to encounter4 ,for  even in the    
lowest kinds of work1 envy balks even   
the beginnings of a  reputation1 and    
never ceases to cleave to it up to the  
last4 ,how great  a part is played by   
envy in the wicked ways of the world6   
,ariosto is  right in saying that the   
dark side of our mortal life            
predominates1 so  full it is of this    
evil3        questa assai pi oscura che 
serena    ,vita mortal1 tutta d'invidia 
piena4    ,for envy is the moving spirit
 of that secret and informal1 though    
flourishing1 alliance everywhere made by
 mediocrity against individual          
eminence1 no matter of what kind4 ,in   
his own sphere of work no one  will     

allow another to be distinguished3 he is
 an intruder who cannot  be tolerated4  
,si quelq'un excelle parmi nous1 qu'il  
aille exceller  ailleurs6 this is the   
universal password of the second-rate4  
,in  addition1 then1 to the rarity of   
true merit and the difficulty it has  in
 being understood and recognized1 there 
is the envy of thousands to  be reckoned
 with1 all of them bent on suppressing1 
nay1 on smothering  it altogether4 ,no  
one is taken for what he is1 but for    
what others  make of him2 and this is   
the handle used by mediocrity to keep   
down  distinction1 by not letting it    
come up as long as that can possibly be 
prevented4    ,there are two ways of    
behaving in regard to merit3 either to  
have some  of one's own1 or to refuse   
any to others4 ,the latter method is    
more  convenient1 and so it is generally
 adopted4 ,as envy is a mere sign  of   
deficiency1 so to envy merit argues the 
lack of it4 ,my excellent  ,balthazar   
,gracian has given a very fine account  

of this relation  between envy and merit
 in a lengthy fable1 which may be found 
in his  ,discreto under the heading     
,hombre de ostentacion4 ,he describes   
all the birds as meeting together and   
conspiring against the peacock1  because
 of his magnificent feathers4 ,if1 said 
the magpie1 we could  only manage to put
 a stop to the cursed parading of his   
tail1 there  would soon be an end of his
 beauty2 for what is not seen is as good
 as  what does not exist4    ,this      
explains how modesty came to be a       
virtue4 ,it was invented only as  a     
protection against envy4 ,that there    
have always been rascals to urge  this  
virtue1 and to rejoice heartily over the
 bashfulness of a man of  merit1 has    
been shown at length in my chief work4#a
 ,in ,lichtenberg's  ,miscellaneous     
,writings ,i find this sentence quoted3 
,modesty should  be the virtue of those 
who possess no other4 ,goethe has a     
well-known  saying1 which offends many  
people3 ,it is only knaves who are      

modest6--,nur die ,lumpen sind          
bescheiden6 but it has its prototype  in
 ,cervantes1 who includes in his        
,journey up ,parnassus certain rules  of
 conduct for poets1 and amongst them the
 following3 ,everyone whose  verse shows
 him to be a poet should have a high    
opinion of himself1  relying on the     
proverb that he is a knave who thinks   
himself one4  ,and ,shakespeare1 in many
 of his ,sonnets1 which gave him the    
only  opportunity he had of speaking of 
himself1 declares1 with a confidence    
equal to his ingenuousness1 that what he
 writes is immortal4#b    ,footnote #a3 
,welt als ,wille1 ,vol4 ,,ii4 c4 #cg4   
,footnote #b3 ,collier1 one of his      
critical editors1 in his ,introduction  
to the ,sonettes1 remarks upon this     
point3 ,in many of them are to be  found
 most remarkable indications of         
self-confidence and of assurance  in the
 immortality of his verses1 and in this 
respect the author's  opinion was       
constant and uniform4 ,he never scruples

 to express it1444  and perhaps there is
 no writer of ancient or modern times   
who1 for the  quantity of such writings 
left behind him1 has so frequently or so
  strongly declared that what he had    
produced in this department of  poetry  
'the world would not willingly let die4'
    ,a method of underrating good work  
often used by envy--in reality1         
however1 only the obverse side of       
it--consists in the dishonorable and    
unscrupulous laudation of the bad2 for  
no sooner does bad work gain  currency  
than it draws attention from the good4  
,but however effective  this method may 
be for a while1 especially if it is     
applied on a large  scale1 the day of   
reckoning comes at last1 and the        
fleeting credit  given to bad work is   
paid off by the lasting discredit which 
overtakes  those who abjectly praised   
it4 ,hence these critics prefer to      
remain  anonymous4    ,a like fate      
threatens1 though more remotely1 those  
who depreciate and  censure good work2  

and consequently many are too prudent to
 attempt  it4 ,but there is another way2
 and when a man of eminent merit        
appears1  the first effect he produces  
is often only to pique all his rivals1  
just as the peacock's tail offended the 
birds4 ,this reduces them to  a deep    
silence2 and their silence is so        
unanimous that it savors of             
preconcertion4 ,their tongues are all   
paralyzed4 ,it is the silentium  livoris
 described by ,seneca4 ,this malicious  
silence1 which is  technically known as 
ignoring1 may for a long time interfere 
with  the growth of reputation2 if1 as  
happens in the higher walks of          
learning1 where a man's immediate       
audience is wholly composed of rival    
workers and professed students1 who then
 form the channel of his fame1  the     
greater public is obliged to use its    
suffrage without being able  to examine 
the matter for itself4 ,and if1 in the  
end1 that malicious  silence is broken  
in upon by the voice of praise1 it will 

be but  seldom that this happens        
entirely apart from some ulterior aim1  
pursued by those who thus manipulate    
justice4 ,for1 as ,goethe says in  the  
,west-stlicher ,divan1 a man can get no 
recognition1 either from  many persons  
or from only one1 unless it is to       
publish abroad the  critic's own        
discernment3      ,denn es ist kein     
,anerkenen1    ,weder ,vieler1 noch des 
,einen1    ,wenn es nicht am ,tage      
frdert1    ,wo man selbst was mchte     
scheinen4    ,the credit you allow to   
another man engaged in work similar to  
your  own or akin to it1 must at bottom 
be withdrawn from yourself2 and you  can
 praise him only at the expense of your 
own claims4    ,accordingly1 mankind is 
in itself not at all inclined to award  
praise  and reputation2 it is more      
disposed to blame and find fault1       
whereby  it indirectly praises itself4  
,if1 notwithstanding this1 praise is    
won from mankind1 some extraneous motive
 must prevail4 ,i am not here  referring

 to the disgraceful way in which mutual 
friends will puff one  another into a   
reputation2 outside of that1 an         
effectual motive is  supplied by the    
feeling that next to the merit of doing 
something  oneself1 comes that of       
correctly appreciating and recognizing  
what  others have done4 ,this accords   
with the threefold division of heads    
drawn up by ,hesiod#a and afterwards by 
,machiavelli#b ,there are1  says the    
latter1 in the capacities of mankind1   
three varieties3  one man will          
understand a thing by himself2 another  
so far as it is  explained to him2 a    
third1 neither of himself nor when it is
 put  clearly before him4 ,he1 then1 who
 abandons hope of making good his       
claims to the first class1 will be glad 
to seize the opportunity of  taking a   
place in the second4 ,it is almost      
wholly owing to this state  of things   
that merit may always rest assured of   
ultimately meeting  with recognition4   
,footnote #a3 ,works and ,days1 #bic4   

,footnote #b3 ,the ,prince1 ch4 #bb4    
,to this also is due the fact that when 
the value of a work has once  been      
recognized and may no longer be         
concealed or denied1 all men vie  in    
praising and honoring it2 simply because
 they are conscious  of thereby doing   
themselves an honor4 ,they act in the   
spirit of  ,xenophon's remark3 he must  
be a wise man who knows what is wise4   
,so when they see that the prize of     
original merit is for ever out of  their
 reach1 they hasten to possess          
themselves of that which comes  second  
best--the correct appreciation of it4   
,here it happens as with  an army which 
has been forced to yield2 when1 just as 
previously every  man wanted to be      
foremost in the fight1 so now every man 
tries to  be foremost in running away4  
,they all hurry forward to offer their  
applause to one who is now recognized to
 be worthy of praise1 in  virtue of a   
recognition1 as a rule unconscious1 of  
that law of  homogeneity which ,i       

mentioned in the last chapter2 so that  
it may seem  as though their way of     
thinking and looking at things were     
homogeneous  with that of the celebrated
 man1 and that they may at least save   
the  honor of their literary taste1     
since nothing else is left them4        
,from this it is plain that1 whereas it 
is very difficult to win  fame1 it is   
not hard to keep it when once attained2 
and also that a  reputation which comes 
quickly does not last very long2 for    
here  too1 quod cito fit1 cito perit4   
,it is obvious that if the ordinary     
average man can easily recognize1 and   
the rival workers willingly             
acknowledge1 the value of any           
performance1 it will not stand very much
  above the capacity of either of them  
to achieve it for themselves4  ,tantum  
quisque laudat1 quantum se posse sperat 
imitari--a man will  praise a thing only
 so far as he hopes to be able to       
imitate it  himself4 ,further1 it is a  
suspicious sign if a reputation comes   

quickly2 for an application of the laws 
of homogeneity will show that  such a   
reputation is nothing but the direct    
applause of the multitude4  ,what this  
means may be seen by a remark once made 
by ,phocion1 when he  was interrupted in
 a speech by the loud cheers of the mob4
 ,turning  to his friends who were      
standing close by1 he asked3 ,have ,i   
made a  mistake and said something      
stupid8#a    ,footnote #a3 ,plutarch1   
,apophthegms4    ,contrarily1 a         
reputation that is to last a long time  
must be slow  in maturing1 and the      
centuries of its duration have generally
 to be  bought at the cost of           
contemporary praise4 ,for that which is 
to keep  its position so long1 must be  
of a perfection difficult to attain2 and
  even to recognize this perfection     
requires men who are not always to  be  
found1 and never in numbers sufficiently
 great to make themselves  heard2       
whereas envy is always on the watch and 
doing its best to  smother their voice4 

,but with moderate talent1 which soon   
meets with  recognition1 there is the   
danger that those who possess it will   
outlive both it and themselves2 so that 
a youth of fame may be  followed by an  
old age of obscurity4 ,in the case of   
great merit1 on  the other hand1 a man  
may remain unknown for many years1 but  
make up  for it later on by attaining a 
brilliant reputation4 ,and if it should 
be that this comes only after he is no  
more1 well6 he is to be  reckoned       
amongst those of whom ,jean ,paul says  
that extreme unction is  their baptism4 
,he may console himself by thinking of  
the ,saints1 who  also are canonized    
only after they are dead4    ,thus what 
,mahlmann#a has said so well in ,herodes
 holds good2 in  this world truly great 
work never pleases at once1 and the god 
set up  by the multitude keeps his place
 on the altar but a short time3         
,ich denke1 das wahre ,grosse in der    
,welt    ,ist immer nur ,das was nicht  
gleich gefllt    ,und wen der ,pbel zum 

,gotte weiht1    ,der steht auf dem     
,altar nur kurze ,zeit4    ,footnote #a3
 ,translator's ,note4--,august ,mahlmann
 7#agga-ahbf71  journalist1 poet and    
story-writer4 ,his ,herodes vor         
,bethlehem is a  parody of ,kotzebue's  
,hussiten vor ,naumburg4    ,it is worth
 mention that this rule is most directly
 confirmed in the  case of pictures1    
where1 as connoisseurs well know1 the   
greatest  masterpieces are not the first
 to attract attention4 ,if they make  a 
deep impression1 it is not after one1   
but only after repeated1  inspection2   
but then they excite more and more      
admiration every time  they are seen4   
,moreover1 the chances that any given   
work will be quickly and rightly        
appreciated1 depend upon two conditions3
 firstly1 the character of  the work1   
whether high or low1 in other words1    
easy or difficult to  understand2 and1  
secondly1 the kind of public it         
attracts1 whether  large or small4 ,this
 latter condition is1 no doubt1 in most 

instances  a1 corollary of the former2  
but it also partly depends upon whether 
the work in question admits1 like books 
and musical compositions1 of  being     
produced in great numbers4 ,by the      
compound action of these two            
conditions1 achievements which serve no 
materially useful end--and  these alone 
are under consideration here--will vary 
in regard to  the chances they have of  
meeting with timely recognition and due 
appreciation2 and the order of          
precedence1 beginning with those who    
have the greatest chance1 will be       
somewhat as follows3 acrobats1  circus  
riders1 ballet-dancers1 jugglers1       
actors1 singers1 musicians1  composers1 
poets 7both the last on account of the  
multiplication of  their works71        
architects1 painters1 sculptors1        
philosophers4    ,the last place of all 
is unquestionably taken by philosophers 
because  their works are meant not for  
entertainment1 but for instruction1 and 
because they presume some knowledge on  

the part of the reader1 and  require him
 to make an effort of his own to        
understand them4 ,this  makes their     
public extremely small1 and causes their
 fame to be more  remarkable for its    
length than for its breadth4 ,and1 in   
general1 it  may be said that the       
possibility of a man's fame lasting a   
long time1  stands in almost inverse    
ratio with the chance that it will be   
early  in making its appearance2 so     
that1 as regards length of fame1 the    
above order of precedence may be        
reversed4 ,but1 then1 the poet and  the 
composer will come in the end to stand  
on the same level as the  philosopher2  
since1 when once a work is committed to 
writing1 it is  possible to preserve it 
to all time4 ,however1 the first place  
still  belongs by right to the          
philosopher1 because of the much greater
  scarcity of good work in this sphere1 
and the high importance of it2  and also
 because of the possibility it offers of
 an almost perfect  translation into any

 language4 ,sometimes1 indeed1 it       
happens that a  philosopher's fame      
outlives even his works themselves2 as  
has happened  with ,thales1 ,empedocles1
 ,heraclitus1 ,democritus1 ,parmenides1 
,epicurus  and many others4    ,my      
remarks are1 as ,i have said1 confined  
to achievements that are not  of any    
material use4 ,work that serves some    
practical end1 or ministers  directly to
 some pleasure of the senses1 will never
 have any  difficulty in being duly     
appreciated4 ,no first-rate pastry-cook 
could  long remain obscure in any town1 
to say nothing of having to appeal to   
posterity4    ,under fame of rapid      
growth is also to be reckoned fame of a 
false  and artificial kind2 where1 for  
instance1 a book is worked into a       
reputation by means of unjust praise1   
the help of friends1 corrupt  criticism1
 prompting from above and collusion from
 below4 ,all this  tells upon the       
multitude1 which is rightly presumed to 
have no power  of judging for itself4   

,this sort of fame is like a swimming   
bladder1  by its aid a heavy body may   
keep afloat4 ,it bears up for a certain 
time1 long or short according as the    
bladder is well sewed up and  blown2 but
 still the air comes out gradually1 and 
the body sinks4 ,this  is the inevitable
 fate of all works which are famous by  
reason of  something outside of         
themselves4 ,false praise dies away2    
collusion  comes to an end2 critics     
declare the reputation ungrounded2 it   
vanishes1 and is replaced by so much the
 greater contempt4 ,contrarily1  a      
genuine work1 which1 having the source  
of its fame in itself1  can kindle      
admiration afresh in every age1         
resembles a body of low  specific       
gravity1 which always keeps up of its   
own accord1 and so goes  floating down  
the stream of time4    ,men of great    
genius1 whether their work be in poetry1
 philosophy or  art1 stand in all ages  
like isolated heroes1 keeping up        
single-handed  a desperate struggling   

against the onslaught of an army of     
opponents4#a ,is not this characteristic
 of the miserable nature of  mankind8   
,the dullness1 grossness1 perversity1   
silliness and brutality  of by far the  
greater part of the race1 are always an 
obstacle to the  efforts of the genius1 
whatever be the method of his art2 they 
so form  that hostile army to which at  
last he has to succumb4 ,let the        
isolated  champion achieve what he may3 
it is slow to be acknowledged2 it is    
late in being appreciated1 and then only
 on the score of authority2  it may     
easily fall into neglect again1 at any  
rate for a while4 ,ever  afresh it finds
 itself opposed by false1 shallow1 and  
insipid ideas1  which are better suited 
to that large majority1 that so         
generally hold  the field4 ,though the  
critic may step forth and say1 like     
,hamlet when  he held up the two        
portraits to his wretched mother1 ,have 
you eyes8  ,have you eyes8 alas6 they   
have none4 ,when ,i watch the behavior  

of a  crowd of people in the presence of
 some great master's work1 and mark  the
 manner of their applause1 they often   
remind me of trained monkeys  in a show4
 ,the monkey's gestures are1 no doubt1  
much like those of  men2 but now and    
again they betray that the real inward  
spirit of  these gestures is not in     
them4 ,their irrational nature peeps    
out4    ,footnote #a3 ,translator's     
,note4--,at this point ,schopenhauer    
interrupts the thread of his discourse  
to speak at length upon an  example of  
false fame4 ,those who are at all       
acquainted with the  philosopher's views
 will not be surprised to find that the 
writer thus  held up to scorn is ,hegel2
 and readers of the other volumes in    
this  series will1 with the translator1 
have had by now quite enough of the     
subject4 ,the passage is therefore      
omitted4    ,it is often said of a man  
that he is in advance of his age2 and it
  follows from the above remarks that   
this must be taken to mean that  he is  

in advance of humanity in general4 ,just
 because of this fact1  a genius makes  
no direct appeal except to those who are
 too rare to  allow of their ever       
forming a numerous body at any one      
period4 ,if he  is in this respect not  
particularly favored by fortune1 he will
  be misunderstood by his own age2 in   
other words1 he will remain  unaccepted 
until time gradually brings together the
 voices of those  few persons who are   
capable of judging a work of such high  
character4  ,then posterity will say3   
,this man was in advance of his age1    
instead  of in advance of humanity2     
because humanity will be glad to lay the
  burden of its own faults upon a single
 epoch4    ,hence1 if a man has been    
superior to his own age1 he would also  
have  been superior to any other2       
provided that1 in that age1 by some rare
  and happy chance1 a few just men1     
capable of judging in the sphere of  his
 achievements1 had been born at the same
 time with him2 just as  when1 according

 to a beautiful ,indian myth1 ,vischnu  
becomes incarnate  as a hero1 so1 too1  
,brahma at the same time appears as the 
singer of  his deeds2 and hence         
,valmiki1 ,vyasa and ,kalidasa are      
incarnations of  ,brahma4    ,in this   
sense1 then1 it may be said that every  
immortal work puts its  age to the      
proof1 whether or no it will be able to 
recognize the merit  of it4 ,as a rule1 
the men of any age stand such a test no 
better than  the neighbors of ,philemon 
and ,baucis1 who expelled the deities   
they  failed to recognize4 ,accordingly1
 the right standard for judging the     
intellectual worth of any generation is 
supplied1 not by the great  minds that  
make their appearance in it--for their  
capacities are the  work of ,nature1 and
 the possibility of cultivating them a  
matter of  chance circumstance--but by  
the way in which contemporaries receive 
their works2 whether1 ,i mean1 they give
 their applause soon and with  a will1  
or late and in niggardly fashion1 or    

leave it to be bestowed  altogether by  
posterity4    ,this last fate will be   
especially reserved for works of a high 
character4 ,for the happy chance        
mentioned above will be all the more    
certain not to come1 in proportion as   
there are few to appreciate  the kind of
 work done by great minds4 ,herein lies 
the immeasurable  advantage possessed by
 poets in respect of reputation2 because
 their  work is accessible to almost    
everyone4 ,if it had been possible for  
,sir  ,walter ,scott to be read and     
criticised by only some hundred persons1
  perhaps in his life-time any common   
scribbler would have been  preferred to 
him2 and afterwards1 when he had taken  
his proper place1  it would also have   
been said in his honor that he was in   
advance of  his age4 ,but if envy1      
dishonesty and the pursuit of personal  
aims are  added to the incapacity of    
those hundred persons who1 in the name  
of  their generation1 are called upon to
 pass judgment on a work1 then  indeed  

it meets with the same sad fate as      
attends a suitor who pleads  before a   
tribunal of judges one and all corrupt4 
,in corroboration of this1 we find that 
the history of literature  generally    
shows all those who made knowledge and  
insight their goal  to have remained    
unrecognized and neglected1 whilst those
 who  paraded with the vain show of it  
received the admiration of their        
contemporaries1 together with the       
emoluments4    ,the effectiveness of an 
author turns chiefly upon his getting   
the  reputation that he should be read4 
,but by practicing various arts1  by the
 operation of chance1 and by certain    
natural affinities1 this  reputation is 
quickly won by a hundred worthless      
people3 while a  worthy writer may come 
by it very slowly and tardily4 ,the     
former  possess friends to help them2   
for the rabble is always a numerous body
  which holds well together4 ,the latter
 has nothing but enemies2 because       
intellectual superiority is everywhere  

and under all circumstances the  most   
hateful thing in the world1 and         
especially to bunglers in the  same line
 of work1 who want to pass for something
 themselves4#a    ,footnote #a3 ,if the 
professors of philosophy should chance  
to think  that ,i am here hinting at    
them and the tactics they have for more 
than  thirty years pursued toward my    
works1 they have hit the nail upon the  
head4    ,this being so1 it is a prime  
condition for doing any great work--any 
work which is to outlive its own age1   
that a man pay no heed to his           
contemporaries1 their views and         
opinions1 and the praise or blame  which
 they bestow4 ,this condition is1       
however1 fulfilled of itself  when a man
 really does anything great1 and it is  
fortunate that it is  so4 ,for if1 in   
producing such a work1 he were to look  
to the general  opinion or the judgment 
of his colleagues1 they would lead him  
astray  at every step4 ,hence1 if a man 
wants to go down to posterity1 he must  

withdraw from the influence of his own  
age4 ,this will1 of course1  generally  
mean that he must also renounce any     
influence upon it1 and  be ready to buy 
centuries of fame by foregoing the      
applause of his  contemporaries4    ,for
 when any new and wide-reaching truth   
comes into the world--and if  it is new1
 it must be paradoxical--an obstinate   
stand will be made  against it as long  
as possible2 nay1 people will continue  
to deny it  even after they slacken     
their opposition and are almost         
convinced of  its truth4 ,meanwhile it  
goes on quietly working its way1 and1   
like an  acid1 undermining everything   
around it4 ,from time to time a crash is
  heard2 the old error comes tottering  
to the ground1 and suddenly the  new    
fabric of thought stands revealed1 as   
though it were a monument  just         
uncovered4 ,everyone recognizes and     
admires it4 ,to be sure1 this  all comes
 to pass for the most part very slowly4 
,as a rule1 people  discover a man to be

 worth listening to only after he is    
gone2 their  hear1 hear1 resounds when  
the orator has left the platform4       
,works of the ordinary type meet with a 
better fate4 ,arising as they  do in the
 course of1 and in connection with1 the 
general advance in  contemporary        
culture1 they are in close alliance with
 the spirit of  their age--in other     
words1 just those opinions which happen 
to be  prevalent at the time4 ,they aim 
at suiting the needs of the moment4 ,if 
they have any merit1 it is soon         
recognized2 and they gain currency as   
books which reflect the latest ideas4   
,justice1 nay1 more than justice1  is   
done to them4 ,they afford little scope 
for envy2 since1 as was said  above1 a  
man will praise a thing only so far as  
he hopes to be able to  imitate it      
himself4    ,but those rare works which 
are destined to become the property of  
all  mankind and to live for centuries1 
are1 at their origin1 too far in        
advance of the point at which culture   

happens to stand1 and on that  very     
account foreign to it and the spirit of 
their own time4 ,they  neither belong to
 it nor are they in any connection with 
it1 and hence  they excite no interest  
in those who are dominated by it4 ,they 
belong  to another1 a higher stage of   
culture1 and a time that is still far   
off4 ,their course is related to that of
 ordinary works as the orbit  of ,uranus
 to the orbit of ,mercury4 ,for the     
moment they get no justice  done to     
them4 ,people are at a loss how to treat
 them2 so they leave  them alone1 and go
 their own snail's pace for themselves4 
,does the  worm see the eagle as it     
soars aloft8    ,of the number of books 
written in any language about one in    
#ajj1jjj  forms a part of its real and  
permanent literature4 ,what a fate this 
one book has to endure before it        
outstrips those #ajj1jjj and gains its  
due place of honor6 ,such a book is the 
work of an extraordinary and  eminent   
mind1 and therefore it is specifically  

different from the  others2 a fact which
 sooner or later becomes manifest4      
,let no one fancy that things will ever 
improve in this respect4 ,no6  the      
miserable constitution of humanity never
 changes1 though it may1  to be sure1   
take somewhat varying forms with every  
generation4 ,a  distinguished mind      
seldom has its full effect in the       
life-time of  its possessor2 because1 at
 bottom1 it is completely and properly  
understood only by minds already akin to
 it4    ,as it is a rare thing for even 
one man out of many millions to tread   
the path that leads to immortality1 he  
must of necessity be very  lonely4 ,the 
journey to posterity lies through a     
horribly dreary  region1 like the       
,lybian desert1 of which1 as is well    
known1 no one has  any idea who has not 
seen it for himself4 ,meanwhile let me  
before  all things recommend the        
traveler to take light baggage with him2
  otherwise he will have to throw away  
too much on the road4 ,let him  never   

forget the words of ,balthazar ,gracian3
 lo bueno si breve1 dos  vezes          
bueno--good work is doubly good if it is
 short4 ,this advice is  specially      
applicable to my own countrymen4        
,compared with the short span of time   
they live1 men of great intellect  are  
like huge buildings1 standing on a small
 plot of ground4 ,the size  of the      
building cannot be seen by anyone1 just 
in front of it2 nor1  for an analogous  
reason1 can the greatness of a genius be
 estimated  while he lives4 ,but when a 
century has passed1 the world recognizes
 it  and wishes him back again4    ,if  
the perishable son of time has produced 
an imperishable work1 how  short his own
 life seems compared with that of his   
child6 ,he is like  ,semela or ,maia--a 
mortal mother who gave birth to an      
immortal son2 or1  contrarily1 he is    
like ,achilles in regard to ,thetis4    
,what a contrast  there is between what 
is fleeting and what is permanent6 ,the 
short  span of a man's life1 his        

necessitous1 afflicted1 unstable        
existence1  will seldom allow of his    
seeing even the beginning of his        
immortal  child's brilliant career2 nor 
will the father himself be taken for    
that which he really is4 ,it may be     
said1 indeed1 that a man whose fame     
comes after him is the reverse of a     
nobleman1 who is preceded by it4        
,however1 the only difference that it   
ultimately makes to a man to  receive   
his fame at the hands of contemporaries 
rather than from  posterity is that1 in 
the former case1 his admirers are       
separated  from him by space1 and in the
 latter by time4 ,for even in the case  
of contemporary fame1 a man does not1 as
 a rule1 see his admirers  actually     
before him4 ,reverence cannot endure    
close proximity2 it  almost always      
dwells at some distance from its object2
 and in the  presence of the person     
revered it melts like butter in the sun4
  ,accordingly1 if a man is celebrated  
with his contemporaries1  nine-tenths of

 those amongst whom he lives will let   
their esteem be  guided by his rank and 
fortune2 and the remaining tenth may    
perhaps  have a dull consciousness of   
his high qualities1 because they have   
heard about him from remote quarters4   
,there is a fine ,latin letter of       
,petrarch's on this incompatibility     
between reverence and the presence  of  
the person1 and between fame and life4  
,it comes second in his  ,epistolae     
familiares8#a and it is addressed to    
,thomas ,messanensis4  ,he there        
observes1 amongst other things1 that the
 learned men of his  age all made it a  
rule to think little of a man's writings
 if they had  even once seen him4       
,footnote #a3 ,in the ,venetian edition 
of #adib4    ,since distance1 then1 is  
essential if a famous man is to be      
recognized  and revered1 it does not    
matter whether it is distance of space  
or of  time4 ,it is true that he may    
sometimes hear of his fame in the one   
case1 but never in the other2 but still1

 genuine and great merit may  make up   
for this by confidently anticipating its
 posthumous fame4  ,nay1 he who produces
 some really great thought is conscious 
of his  connection with coming          
generations at the very moment he       
conceives it2  so that he feels the     
extension of his existence through      
centuries  and thus lives with posterity
 as well as for it4 ,and when1 after    
enjoying a great man's work1 we are     
seized with admiration for him1  and    
wish him back1 so that we might see and 
speak with him1 and have  him in our    
possession1 this desire of ours is not  
unrequited2 for  he1 too1 has had his   
longing for that posterity which will   
grant  the recognition1 honor1 gratitude
 and love denied by envious             
contemporaries4    ,if intellectual     
works of the highest order are not      
allowed their due  until they come      
before the tribunal of posterity1 a     
contrary fate  is prepared for certain  
brilliant errors which proceed from men 

of  talent1 and appear with an air of   
being well grounded4 ,these errors  are 
defended with so much acumen and        
learning that they actually  become     
famous with their own age1 and maintain 
their position at least  during their   
author's lifetime4 ,of this sort are    
many false theories  and wrong          
criticisms2 also poems and works of art1
 which exhibit some  false taste or     
mannerism favored by contemporary       
prejudice4 ,they gain  reputation and   
currency simply because no one is yet   
forthcoming who  knows how to refute    
them or otherwise prove their falsity2  
and when  he appears1 as he usually     
does1 in the next generation1 the glory 
of  these works is brought to an end4   
,posthumous judges1 be their decision   
favorable to the appellant or not1 form 
the proper court for quashing  the      
verdict of contemporaries4 ,that is why 
it is so difficult and so  rare to be   
victorious alike in both tribunals4     
,the unfailing tendency of time to      

correct knowledge and judgment  should  
always be kept in view as a means of    
allaying anxiety1 whenever  any grievous
 error appears1 whether in art1 or      
science1 or practical  life1 and gains  
ground2 or when some false and          
thoroughly perverse  policy of movement 
is undertaken and receives applause at  
the hands of  men4 ,no one should be    
angry1 or1 still less1 despondent2 but  
simply  imagine that the world has      
already abandoned the error in question1
  and now only requires time and        
experience to recognize of its own      
accord that which a clear vision        
detected at the first glance4    ,when  
the facts themselves are eloquent of a  
truth1 there is no need to  rush to its 
aid with words3 for time will give it a 
thousand tongues4  ,how long it may be  
before they speak1 will of course depend
 upon the  difficulty of the subject and
 the plausibility of the error2 but come
  they will1 and often it would be of no
 avail to try to anticipate  them4 ,in  

the worst cases it will happen with     
theories as it happens  with affairs in 
practical life2 where sham and          
deception1 emboldened  by success1      
advance to greater and greater lengths1 
until discovery is  made almost         
inevitable4 ,it is just so with         
theories2 through the blind  confidence 
of the blockheads who broach them1 their
 absurdity reaches  such a pitch that at
 last it is obvious even to the dullest 
eye4 ,we  may thus say to such people3  
the wilder your statements1 the better4 
,there is also some comfort to be found 
in reflecting upon all the  whims and   
crotchets which had their day and have  
now utterly vanished4  ,in style1 in    
grammar1 in spelling1 there are false   
notions of this  sort which last only   
three or four years4 ,but when the      
errors are on  a large scale1 while we  
lament the brevity of human life1 we    
shall  in any case1 do well to lag      
behind our own age when we see it on a  
downward path4 ,for there are two ways  

of not keeping on a level with  the     
times4 ,a man may be below it2 or he may
 be above it4          ,,on ,,genius4   
,no difference of rank1 position1 or    
birth1 is so great as the gulf  that    
separates the countless millions who use
 their head only in the  service of     
their belly1 in other words1 look upon  
it as an instrument  of the will1 and   
those very few and rare persons who have
 the courage  to say3 ,no6 it is too    
good for that2 my head shall be active  
only in  its own service2 it shall try  
to comprehend the wondrous and varied   
spectacle of this world1 and then       
reproduce it in some form1 whether  as  
art or as literature1 that may answer to
 my character as an  individual4 ,these 
are the truly noble1 the real noblesse  
of the  world4 ,the others are serfs and
 go with the soil--glebae adscripti4    
,of course1 ,i am here referring to     
those who have not only the courage1    
but also the call1 and therefore the    
right1 to order the head to quit  the   

service of the will2 with a result that 
proves the sacrifice to  have been worth
 the making4 ,in the case of those to   
whom all this can  only partially apply1
 the gulf is not so wide2 but even      
though their  talent be small1 so long  
as it is real1 there will always be a   
sharp  line of demarcation between them 
and the millions4#a    ,footnote #a3    
,the correct scale for adjusting the    
hierarchy of  intelligences is furnished
 by the degree in which the mind takes  
merely individual or approaches         
universal views of things4 ,the brute   
recognizes only the individual as such3 
its comprehension does not  extend      
beyond the limits of the individual4    
,but man reduces the  individual to the 
general2 herein lies the exercise of his
 reason2 and  the higher his            
intelligence reaches1 the nearer do his 
general ideas  approach the point at    
which they become universal4    ,the    
works of fine art1 poetry and philosophy
 produced by a nation are  the outcome  

of the superfluous intellect existing in
 it4    ,for him who can understand     
aright--cum grano salis--the relation   
between the genius and the normal man   
may1 perhaps1 be best expressed  as     
follows3 ,a genius has a double         
intellect1 one for himself and the      
service of his will2 the other for the  
world1 of which he becomes the  mirror1 
in virtue of his purely objective       
attitude towards it4 ,the  work of art  
or poetry or philosophy produced by the 
genius is  simply the result1 or        
quintessence1 of this contemplative     
attitude1  elaborated according to      
certain technical rules4    ,the normal 
man1 on the other hand1 has only a      
single intellect1 which  may be called  
subjective by contrast with the         
objective intellect  of genius4 ,however
 acute this subjective intellect may    
be--and it  exists in very various      
degrees of perfection--it is never on   
the same  level with the double         
intellect of genius2 just as the open   

chest  notes of the human voice1 however
 high1 are essentially different from   
the falsetto notes4 ,these1 like the two
 upper octaves of the flute  and the    
harmonics of the violin1 are produced by
 the column of air  dividing itself into
 two vibrating halves1 with a node      
between them2  while the open chest     
notes of the human voice and the lower  
octave of  the flute are produced by the
 undivided column of air vibrating as  a
 whole4 ,this illustration may help the 
reader to understand that  specific     
peculiarity of genius which is          
unmistakably stamped on the  works1 and 
even on the physiognomy1 of him who is  
gifted with it4 ,at  the same time it is
 obvious that a double intellect like   
this must1 as  a rule1 obstruct the     
service of the will2 and this explains  
the poor  capacity often shown by genius
 in the conduct of life4 ,and what      
specially characterizes genius is that  
it has none of that sobriety of  temper 
which is always to be found in the      

ordinary simple intellect1  be it acute 
or dull4    ,the brain may be likened to
 a parasite which is nourished as a part
 of  the human frame without            
contributing directly to its inner      
economy2  it is securely housed in the  
topmost story1 and there leads a        
self-sufficient and independent life4   
,in the same way it may be said  that a 
man endowed with great mental gifts     
leads1 apart from the  individual life  
common to all1 a second life1 purely of 
the intellect4  ,he devotes himself to  
the constant increase1 rectification and
  extension1 not of mere learning1 but  
of real systematic knowledge  and       
insight2 and remains untouched by the   
fate that overtakes him  personally1 so 
long as it does not disturb him in his  
work4 ,it is thus  a life which raises a
 man and sets him above fate and its    
changes4  ,always thinking1 learning1   
experimenting1 practicing his knowledge1
  the man soon comes to look upon this  
second life as the chief mode  of       

existence1 and his merely personal life 
as something subordinate1  serving only 
to advance ends higher than itself4     
,an example of this independent1        
separate existence is furnished by      
,goethe4 ,during the war in the         
,champagne1 and amid all the bustle of  
the camp1 he made observations for his  
theory of color2 and as soon as  the    
numberless calamities of that war       
allowed of his retiring for a  short    
time to the fortress of ,luxembourg1 he 
took up the manuscript of  his          
,farbenlehre4 ,this is an example which 
we1 the salt of the earth1  should      
endeavor to follow1 by never letting    
anything disturb us in the  pursuit of  
our intellectual life1 however much the 
storm of the world  may invade and      
agitate our personal environment2 always
 remembering  that we are the sons1 not 
of the bondwoman1 but of the free4 ,as  
our  emblem and coat of arms1 ,i propose
 a tree mightily shaken by the wind1    
but still bearing its ruddy fruit on    

every branch2 with the motto ,dum       
convellor mitescunt1 or ,conquassata sed
 ferax4    ,that purely intellectual    
life of the individual has its          
counterpart in  humanity as a whole4    
,for there1 too1 the real life is the   
life of the  will1 both in the empirical
 and in the transcendental meaning of   
the  word4 ,the purely intellectual life
 of humanity lies in its effort to      
increase knowledge by means of the      
sciences1 and its desire to perfect  the
 arts4 ,both science and art thus       
advance slowly from one generation  to  
another1 and grow with the centuries1   
every race as it hurries by  furnishing 
its contribution4 ,this intellectual    
life1 like some gift  from heaven1      
hovers over the stir and movement of the
 world2 or it  is1 as it were1 a        
sweet-scented air developed out of the  
ferment  itself--the real life of       
mankind1 dominated by will2 and side by 
side  with the history of nations1 the  
history of philosophy1 science and  art 

takes its innocent and bloodless way4   
,the difference between the genius and  
the ordinary man is1 no doubt1 a        
quantitative one1 in so far as it is a  
difference of degree2 but ,i  am tempted
 to regard it also as qualitative1 in   
view of the fact  that ordinary minds1  
notwithstanding individual variation1   
have a  certain tendency to think alike4
 ,thus on similar occasions their       
thoughts at once all take a similar     
direction1 and run on the same  lines2  
and this explains why their judgments   
constantly agree--not1  however1 because
 they are based on truth4 ,to such      
lengths does this go  that certain      
fundamental views obtain amongst mankind
 at all times1  and are always being    
repeated and brought forward anew1      
whilst the  great minds of all ages are 
in open or secret opposition to them4   
,a genius is a man in whose mind the    
world is presented as an object  is     
presented in a mirror1 but with a degree
 more of clearness and a  greater       

distinction of outline than is attained 
by ordinary people4  ,it is from him    
that humanity may look for most         
instruction2 for the  deepest insight   
into the most important matters is to be
 acquired1 not  by an observant         
attention to detail1 but by a close     
study of things as  a whole4 ,and if his
 mind reaches maturity1 the instruction 
he gives  will be conveyed now in one   
form1 now in another4 ,thus genius may  
be  defined as an eminently clear       
consciousness of things in general1 and 
therefore1 also of that which is opposed
 to them1 namely1 one's own  self4      
,the world looks up to a man thus       
endowed1 and expects to learn  something
 about life and its real nature4 ,but   
several highly favorable  circumstances 
must combine to produce genius1 and this
 is a very rare  event4 ,it happens only
 now and then1 let us say once in a     
century1  that a man is born whose      
intellect so perceptibly surpasses the  
normal measure as to amount to that     

second faculty which seems to be        
accidental1 as it is out of all relation
 to the will4 ,he may remain  a long    
time without being recognized or        
appreciated1 stupidity  preventing the  
one and envy the other4 ,but should this
 once come to  pass1 mankind will crowd 
round him and his works1 in the hope    
that he  may be able to enlighten some  
of the darkness of their existence or   
inform them about it4 ,his message is1  
to some extent1 a revelation1  and he   
himself a higher being1 even though he  
may be but little above  the ordinary   
standard4    ,like the ordinary man1 the
 genius is what he is chiefly for       
himself4  ,this is essential to his     
nature3 a fact which can neither be     
avoided  nor altered1 he may be for     
others remains a matter of chance and of
  secondary importance4 ,in no case can 
people receive from his mind  more than 
a reflection1 and then only when he     
joins with them in the  attempt to get  
his thought into their heads2 where1    

however1 it is  never anything but an   
exotic plant1 stunted and frail4    ,in 
order to have original1 uncommon1 and   
perhaps even immortal  thoughts1 it is  
enough to estrange oneself so fully from
 the world of  things for a few moments1
 that the most ordinary objects and     
events  appear quite new and unfamiliar4
 ,in this way their true nature is      
disclosed4 ,what is here demanded       
cannot1 perhaps1 be said to be          
difficult2 it is not in our power at    
all1 but is just the province of        
genius4    ,by itself1 genius can       
produce original thoughts just as little
 as a  woman by herself can bear        
children4 ,outward circumstances must   
come to  fructify genius1 and be1 as it 
were1 a father to its progeny4    ,the  
mind of genius is among other minds what
 the carbuncle is among  precious       
stones3 it sends forth light of its own1
 while the others  reflect only that    
which they have received4 ,the relation 
of the  genius to the ordinary mind may 

also be described as that of  an        
idio-electrical body to one which merely
 is a conductor of  electricity4    ,the
 mere man of learning1 who spends his   
life in teaching what he  has learned1  
is not strictly to be called a man of   
genius2 just as  idio-electrical bodies 
are not conductors4 ,nay1 genius stands 
to mere  learning as the words to the   
music in a song4 ,a man of learning is a
  man who has learned a great deal2 a   
man of genius1 one from whom we  learn  
something which the genius has learned  
from nobody4 ,great minds1  of which    
there is scarcely one in a hundred      
millions1 are thus the  lighthouses of  
humanity2 and without them mankind would
 lose itself in  the boundless sea of   
monstrous error and bewilderment4       
,and so the simple man of learning1 in  
the strict sense of the  word--the      
ordinary professor1 for instance--looks 
upon the genius much  as we look upon a 
hare1 which is good to eat after it has 
been killed  and dressed up4 ,so long as

 it is alive1 it is only good to shoot  
at4    ,he who wishes to experience     
gratitude from his contemporaries1 must 
adjust his pace to theirs4 ,but great   
things are never produced in  this way4 
,and he who wants to do great things    
must direct his gaze  to posterity1 and 
in firm confidence elaborate his work   
for coming  generations4 ,no doubt1 the 
result may be that he will remain quite 
unknown to his contemporaries1 and      
comparable to a man who1 compelled  to  
spend his life upon a lonely island1    
with great effort sets up a  monument   
there1 to transmit to future sea-farers 
the knowledge of his  existence4 ,if he 
thinks it a hard fate1 let him console  
himself with  the reflection that the   
ordinary man who lives for practical    
aims  only1 often suffers a like fate1  
without having any compensation to  hope
 for2 inasmuch as he may1 under         
favorable conditions1 spend a life  of  
material production1 earning1 buying1   
building1 fertilizing1  laying out1     

founding1 establishing1 beautifying with
 daily effort  and unflagging zeal1 and 
all the time think that he is working   
for  himself2 and yet in the end it is  
his descendants who reap the benefit  of
 it all1 and sometimes not even his     
descendants4 ,it is the same with  the  
man of genius2 he1 too1 hopes for his   
reward and for honor at  least2 and at  
last finds that he has worked for       
posterity alone4 ,both1  to be sure1    
have inherited a great deal from their  
ancestors4    ,the compensation ,i have 
mentioned as the privilege of genius    
lies1 not  in what it is to others1 but 
in what it is to itself4 ,what man has  
in  any real sense lived more than he   
whose moments of thought make their     
echoes heard through the tumult of      
centuries8 ,perhaps1 after all1 it      
would be the best thing for a genius to 
attain undisturbed possession  of       
himself1 by spending his life in        
enjoying the pleasure of his own        
thoughts1 his own works1 and by         

admitting the world only as the heir  of
 his ample existence4 ,then the world   
would find the mark of his  existence   
only after his death1 as it finds that  
of the ,ichnolith4#a    ,footnote #a3   
,translator's ,note4--,for an           
illustration of this feeling  in poetry1
 ,schopenhauer refers the reader to     
,byron's ,prophecy of  ,dante3 introd4  
to ,c4 #d4    ,it is not only in the    
activity of his highest powers that the 
genius  surpasses ordinary people4 ,a   
man who is unusually well-knit1 supple  
and agile1 will perform all his         
movements with exceptional ease1 even   
with comfort1 because he takes a direct 
pleasure in an activity for  which he is
 particularly well-equipped1 and        
therefore often exercises  it without   
any object4 ,further1 if he is an       
acrobat or a dancer1 not  only does he  
take leaps which other people cannot    
execute1 but he also  betrays rare      
elasticity and agility in those easier  
steps which others  can also perform1   

and even in ordinary walking4 ,in the   
same way a man  of superior mind will   
not only produce thoughts and works     
which could  never have come from       
another2 it will not be here alone that 
he will  show his greatness2 but as     
knowledge and thought form a mode of    
activity natural and easy to him1 he    
will also delight himself in them  at   
all times1 and so apprehend small       
matters which are within the  range of  
other minds1 more easily1 quickly and   
correctly than they4  ,thus he will take
 a direct and lively pleasure in every  
increase of  ,knowledge1 every problem  
solved1 every witty thought1 whether of 
his  own or another's2 and so his mind  
will have no further aim than to be     
constantly active4 ,this will be an     
inexhaustible spring of delight2  and   
boredom1 that spectre which haunts the  
ordinary man1 can never  come near him4 
,then1 too1 the masterpieces of past and
 contemporary men of genius  exist in   
their fullness for him alone4 ,if a     

great product of genius  is recommended 
to the ordinary1 simple mind1 it will   
take as much  pleasure in it as the     
victim of gout receives in being invited
 to a  ball4 ,the one goes for the sake 
of formality1 and the other reads the   
book so as not to be in arrear4 ,for ,la
 ,bruyre was quite right when he  said3 
,all the wit in the world is lost upon  
him who has none4 ,the  whole range of  
thought of a man of talent1 or of a     
genius1 compared  with the thoughts of  
the common man1 is1 even when directed  
to objects  essentially the same1 like a
 brilliant oil-painting1 full of life1  
compared with a mere outline or a weak  
sketch in water-color4    ,all this is  
part of the reward of genius1 and       
compensates him for a  lonely existence 
in a world with which he has nothing in 
common and  no sympathies4 ,but since   
size is relative1 it comes to the same  
thing  whether ,i say1 ,caius was a     
great man1 or ,caius has to live amongst
  wretchedly small people3 for          

,brobdingnack and ,lilliput vary only   
in the point from which they start4     
,however great1 then1 however  admirable
 or instructive1 a long posterity may   
think the author  of immortal works1    
during his lifetime he will appear to   
his  contemporaries small1 wretched1 and
 insipid in proportion4 ,this is  what  
,i mean by saying that as there are     
three hundred degrees from the  base of 
a tower to the summit1 so there are     
exactly three hundred  from the summit  
to the base4 ,great minds thus owe      
little ones some  indulgence2 for it is 
only in virtue of these little minds    
that they  themselves are great4    ,let
 us1 then1 not be surprised if we find  
men of genius generally  unsociable and 
repellent4 ,it is not their want of     
sociability that is  to blame4 ,their   
path through the world is like that of a
 man who goes  for a walk on a bright   
summer morning4 ,he gazes with delight  
on the  beauty and freshness of nature1 
but he has to rely wholly on that for   

entertainment2 for he can find no       
society but the peasants as they  bend  
over the earth and cultivate the soil4  
,it is often the case that  a great mind
 prefers soliloquy to the dialogue he   
may have in this  world4 ,if he         
condescends to it now and then1 the     
hollowness of it may  possibly drive him
 back to his soliloquy2 for in          
forgetfulness of his  interlocutor1 or  
caring little whether he understands or 
not1 he talks  to him as a child talks  
to a doll4    ,modesty in a great mind  
would1 no doubt1 be pleasing to the     
world2  but1 unluckily1 it is a         
contradictio in adjecto4 ,it would      
compel a  genius to give the thoughts   
and opinions1 nay1 even the method and  
style1 of the million preference over   
his own2 to set a higher value  upon    
them2 and1 wide apart as they are1 to   
bring his views into  harmony with      
theirs1 or even suppress them           
altogether1 so as to let  the others    
hold the field4 ,in that case1 however1 

he would either  produce nothing at all1
 or else his achievements would be just 
upon a  level with theirs4 ,great1      
genuine and extraordinary work can be   
done  only in so far as its author      
disregards the method1 the thoughts1 the
  opinions of his contemporaries1 and   
quietly works on1 in spite of  their    
criticism1 on his side despising what   
they praise4 ,no one  becomes great     
without arrogance of this sort4 ,should 
his life and work  fall upon a time     
which cannot recognize and appreciate   
him1 he is at  any rate true to himself2
 like some noble traveler forced to pass
 the  night in a miserable inn2 when    
morning comes1 he contentedly goes his  
way4    ,a poet or philosopher should   
have no fault to find with his age if it
  only permits him to do his work       
undisturbed in his own corner2 nor  with
 his fate if the corner granted him     
allows of his following his  vocation   
without having to think about other     
people4    ,for the brain to be a mere  

laborer in the service of the belly1 is 
indeed the common lot of almost all     
those who do not live on the work  of   
their hands2 and they are far from being
 discontented with  their lot4 ,but it  
strikes despair into a man of great     
mind1 whose  brain-power goes beyond the
 measure necessary for the service of   
the will2 and he prefers1 if need be1 to
 live in the narrowest  circumstances1  
so long as they afford him the free use 
of his time for  the development and    
application of his faculties2 in other  
words1 if  they give him the leisure    
which is invaluable to him4    ,it is   
otherwise with ordinary people3 for them
 leisure has no value in  itself1 nor is
 it1 indeed1 without its dangers1 as    
these people  seem to know4 ,the        
technical work of our time1 which is    
done to an  unprecedented perfection1   
has1 by increasing and multiplying      
objects  of luxury1 given the favorites 
of fortune a choice between more        
leisure and culture upon the one side1  

and additional luxury and good  living1 
but with increased activity1 upon the   
other2 and1 true to  their character1   
they choose the latter1 and prefer      
champagne to  freedom4 ,and they are    
consistent in their choice2 for1 to     
them1 every  exertion of the mind which 
does not serve the aims of the will is  
folly4 ,intellectual effort for its own 
sake1 they call eccentricity4           
,therefore1 persistence in the aims of  
the will and the belly will be          
concentricity2 and1 to be sure1 the will
 is the centre1 the kernel of  the      
world4    ,but in general it is very    
seldom that any such alternative is     
presented4 ,for as with money1 most men 
have no superfluity1 but only  just     
enough for their needs1 so with         
intelligence2 they possess just  what   
will suffice for the service of the     
will1 that is1 for the  carrying on of  
their business4 ,having made their      
fortune1 they are  content to gape or to
 indulge in sensual pleasures or        

childish  amusements1 cards or dice2 or 
they will talk in the dullest way1 or   
dress up and make obeisance to one      
another4 ,and how few are those who     
have even a little superfluity of       
intellectual power6 ,like the others    
they too make themselves a pleasure2 but
 it is a pleasure of the  intellect4    
,either they will pursue some liberal   
study which brings  them in nothing1 or 
they will practice some art2 and in     
general1 they  will be capable of taking
 an objective interest in things1 so    
that  it will be possible to converse   
with them4 ,but with the others it is   
better not to enter into any relations  
at all2 for1 except when they  tell the 
results of their own experience or give 
an account of their  special vocation1  
or at any rate impart what they have    
learned from  some one else1 their      
conversation will not be worth listening
 to2 and  if anything is said to them1  
they will rarely grasp or understand it 
aright1 and it will in most cases be    

opposed to their own opinions4          
,balthazar ,gracian describes them very 
strikingly as men who are not           
men--hombres che non lo son4 ,and       
,giordano ,bruno says the same  thing3  
,what a difference there is in having to
 do with men compared  with those who   
are only made in their image and        
likeness6#a ,and how  wonderfully this  
passage agrees with that remark in the  
,kurral3 ,the  common people look like  
men but ,i have never seen anything     
quite like  them4 ,if the reader will   
consider the extent to which these ideas
  agree in thought and even in          
expression1 and in the wide difference  
between them in point of date and       
nationality1 he cannot doubt but  that  
they are at one with the facts of life4 
,it was certainly not  under the        
influence of those passages that1 about 
twenty years ago1 ,i  tried to get a    
snuff-box made1 the lid of which should 
have two fine  chestnuts represented    
upon it1 if possible in mosaic2 together

 with a  leaf which was to show that    
they were horse-chestnuts4 ,this symbol 
was  meant to keep the thought          
constantly before my mind4 ,if anyone   
wishes  for entertainment1 such as will 
prevent him feeling solitary even when  
he is alone1 let me recommend the       
company of dogs1 whose moral and        
intellectual qualities may almost afford
 delight and gratification4    ,footnote
 #a3 ,opera3 ed4 ,wagner1 #a4 #bbd4     
,still1 we should always be careful to  
avoid being unjust4 ,i am often         
surprised by the cleverness1 and now and
 again by the stupidity of my  dog2 and 
,i have similar experiences with        
mankind4 ,countless times1  in          
indignation at their incapacity1 their  
total lack of discernment1  their       
bestiality1 ,i have been forced to echo 
the old complaint that  folly is the    
mother and the nurse of the human race3 
,humani generis mater nutrixque profecto
    ,stultitia est4    ,but at other    
times ,i have been astounded that from  

such a race there  could have gone forth
 so many arts and sciences1 abounding in
 so much  use and beauty1 even though it
 has always been the few that produce   
them4 ,yet these arts and sciences have 
struck root1 established and  perfected 
themselves3 and the race has with       
persistent fidelity  preserved ,homer1  
,plato1 ,horace and others for thousands
 of years1 by  copying and treasuring   
their writings1 thus saving them from   
oblivion1  in spite of all the evils and
 atrocities that have happened in the   
world4 ,thus the race has proved that it
 appreciates the value of these  things1
 and at the same time it can form a     
correct view of special  achievements or
 estimate signs of judgment and         
intelligence4 ,when this  takes place   
amongst those who belong to the great   
multitude1 it is by  a kind of          
inspiration4 ,sometimes a correct       
opinion will be formed by  the multitude
 itself2 but this is only when the      
chorus of praise  has grown full and    

complete4 ,it is then like the sound of 
untrained  voices2 where there are      
enough of them1 it is always harmonious4
    ,those who emerge from the          
multitude1 those who are called men of  
genius1 are merely the lucida intervalla
 of the whole human race4  ,they achieve
 that which others could not possibly   
achieve4 ,their  originality is so great
 that not only is their divergence from 
others  obvious1 but their individuality
 is expressed with such force1 that  all
 the men of genius who have ever existed
 show1 every one of them1  peculiarities
 of character and mind2 so that the gift
 of his works is  one which he alone of 
all men could ever have presented to the
 world4  ,this is what makes that simile
 of ,ariosto's so true and so justly    
celebrated3 ,natura lo fece e poi ruppe 
lo stampo4 ,after ,nature  stamps a man 
of genius1 she breaks the die4    ,but  
there is always a limit to human        
capacity2 and no one can be a  great    
genius without having some decidedly    

weak side1 it may even be1  some        
intellectual narrowness4 ,in other      
words1 there will foe some  faculty in  
which he is now and then inferior to men
 of moderate  endowments4 ,it will be a 
faculty which1 if strong1 might have    
been an  obstacle to the exercise of the
 qualities in which he excels4 ,what    
this weak point is1 it will always be   
hard to define with any accuracy  even  
in a given case4 ,it may be better      
expressed indirectly2 thus  ,plato's    
weak point is exactly that in which     
,aristotle is strong1 and  vice versa2  
and so1 too1 ,kant is deficient just    
where ,goethe is  great4    ,now1       
mankind is fond of venerating something2
 but its veneration is  generally       
directed to the wrong object1 and it    
remains so directed  until posterity    
comes to set it right4 ,but the educated
 public is  no sooner set right in this1
 than the honor which is due to genius  
degenerates2 just as the honor which the
 faithful pay to their saints  easily   

passes into a frivolous worship of      
relics4 ,thousands of  ,christians adore
 the relics of a saint whose life and   
doctrine are  unknown to them2 and the  
religion of thousands of ,buddhists lies
 more  in veneration of the ,holy ,tooth
 or some such object1 or the vessel     
that contains it1 or the ,holy ,bowl1 or
 the fossil footstep1 or the  ,holy     
,tree which ,buddha planted1 than in the
 thorough knowledge and  faithful       
practice of his high teaching4          
,petrarch's house in ,arqua2  ,tasso's  
supposed prison in ,ferrara2            
,shakespeare's house in ,stratford1     
with his chair2 ,goethe's house in      
,weimar1 with its furniture2 ,kant's    
old hat2 the autographs of great men2   
these things are gaped at with  interest
 and awe by many who have never read    
their works4 ,they cannot  do anything  
more than just gape4    ,the intelligent
 amongst them are moved by the wish to  
see the objects  which the great man    
habitually had before his eyes2 and by a

 strange  illusion1 these produce the   
mistaken notion that with the objects   
they  are bringing back the man himself1
 or that something of him must  cling to
 them4 ,akin to such people are those   
who earnestly strive to  acquaint       
themselves with the subject-matter of a 
poet's works1 or to  unravel the        
personal circumstances and events in his
 life which have  suggested particular  
passages4 ,this is as though the        
audience in a  theatre were to admire a 
fine scene and then rush upon the stage 
to  look at the scaffolding that        
supports it4 ,there are in our day      
enough  instances of these critical     
investigators1 and they prove the truth 
of  the saying that mankind is          
interested1 not in the form of a work1  
that is1 in its manner of treatment1 but
 in its actual matter4 ,all it  cares   
for is the theme4 ,to read a            
philosopher's biography1 instead of     
studying his thoughts1 is like          
neglecting a picture and attending only 

to the style of its frame1 debating     
whether it is carved well or ill1  and  
how much it cost to gild it4    ,this is
 all very well4 ,however1 there is      
another class of  persons whose interest
 is also directed to material and       
personal  considerations1 but they go   
much further and carry it to a point    
where  it becomes absolutely futile4    
,because a great man has opened up to   
them the treasures of his inmost being1 
and1 by a supreme effort  of his        
faculties1 produced works which not only
 redound to their  elevation and        
enlightenment1 but will also benefit    
their posterity to  the tenth and       
twentieth generation2 because he has    
presented mankind  with a matchless     
gift1 these varlets think themselves    
justified in  sitting in judgment upon  
his personal morality1 and trying if    
they  cannot discover here or there some
 spot in him which will soothe the  pain
 they feel at the sight of so great a   
mind1 compared with the  overwhelming   

feeling of their own nothingness4       
,this is the real source of all those   
prolix discussions1 carried on in       
countless books and reviews1 on the     
moral aspect of ,goethe's life1 and     
whether he ought not to have married one
 or other of the girls with  whom he    
fell in love in his young days2 whether1
 again1 instead of  honestly devoting   
himself to the service of his master1 he
 should not  have been a man of the     
people1 a ,german patriot1 worthy of a  
seat in  the ,paulskirche1 and so on4   
,such crying ingratitude and malicious  
detraction prove that these             
self-constituted judges are as great    
knaves morally as they are              
intellectually1 which is saying a great 
deal4    ,a man of talent will strive   
for money and reputation2 but the spring
  that moves genius to the production of
 its works is not as easy to  name4     
,wealth is seldom its reward4 ,nor is it
 reputation or glory2 only  a ,frenchman
 could mean that4 ,glory is such an     

uncertain thing1 and1  if you look at it
 closely1 of so little value4 ,besides  
it never  corresponds to the effort you 
have made3      ,responsura tuo nunquam 
est par fama labori4    ,nor1 again1 is 
it exactly the pleasure it gives you2   
for this is  almost outweighed by the   
greatness of the effort4 ,it is rather a
  peculiar kind of instinct1 which      
drives the man of genius to give        
permanent form to what he sees and      
feels1 without being conscious of  any  
further motive4 ,it works1 in the main1 
by a necessity similar to  that which   
makes a tree bear its fruit2 and no     
external condition is  needed but the   
ground upon which it is to thrive4      
,on a closer examination1 it seems as   
though1 in the case of a genius1  the   
will to live1 which is the spirit of the
 human species1 were  conscious of      
having1 by some rare chance1 and for a  
brief period1  attained a greater       
clearness of vision1 and were now trying
 to secure  it1 or at least the outcome 

of it1 for the whole species1 to which  
the  individual genius in his inmost    
being belongs2 so that the light which  
he sheds about him may pierce the       
darkness and dullness of ordinary  human
 consciousness and there produce some   
good effect4    ,arising in some such   
way1 this instinct drives the genius to 
carry  his work to completion1 without  
thinking of reward or applause or       
sympathy2 to leave all care for his own 
personal welfare2 to make his  life one 
of industrious solitude1 and to strain  
his faculties to  the utmost4 ,he thus  
comes to think more about posterity than
 about  contemporaries2 because1 while  
the latter can only lead him astray1    
posterity forms the majority of the     
species1 and time will gradually  bring 
the discerning few who can appreciate   
him4 ,meanwhile it is with  him as with 
the artist described by ,goethe2 he has 
no princely patron  to prize his        
talents1 no friend to rejoice with him3 
,ein ,frst der die ,talente schtzt1     

,ein ,freund1 der sich mit mir ergtzt1  
,die haben leider mir gefehlt4    ,his  
work is1 as it were1 a sacred object and
 the true fruit of his  life1 and his   
aim in storing it away for a more       
discerning posterity  will be to make it
 the property of mankind4 ,an aim like  
this far  surpasses all others1 and for 
it he wears the crown of thorns which   
is one day to bloom into a wreath of    
laurel4 ,all his powers are             
concentrated in the effort to complete  
and secure his work2 just as  the       
insect1 in the last stage of its        
development1 uses its whole  strength on
 behalf of a brood it will never live to
 see2 it puts its  eggs in some place of
 safety1 where1 as it well knows1 the   
young will  one day find life and       
nourishment1 and then dies in           
confidence4