,,the ,,essays ,,of ,,arthur ,,schopenhauer ,,translated ,,by ,t4 ,,bailey ,,saunders1 ,m4,a4 ,,counsels ,,and ,,maxims4 ,le bonheur n'est pas chose aise3 il est trs difficile de le trouver en nous1 et impossible de le trouver ailleurs4 ,,chamfort4 ,,contents4 ,,chapter ,,introduction ,i4 ,,general ,,rules ,,ii4 ,,our ,,relation ,,to ,,ourselves ,,iii4 ,,our ,,relation ,,to ,,others ,,iv4 ,,worldly ,,fortune ,v4 ,,the ,,ages ,,of ,,life ,,introduction4 ,if my object in these pages were to present a complete scheme of counsels and maxims for the guidance of life1 ,i should have to repeat the numerous rules--some of them excellent--which have been drawn up by thinkers of all ages1 from ,theognis and ,solomon#a down to ,la ,rochefoucauld2 and1 in so doing1 ,i should inevitably entail upon the reader a vast amount of well-worn commonplace4 ,but the fact is that in this work ,i make still less claim to exhaust my subject than in any other of my writings4 ,footnote #a3 ,i refer to the proverbs and maxims ascribed1 in the ,old ,testament1 to the king of that name4 ,an author who makes no claims to completeness must also1 in a great measure1 abandon any attempt at systematic arrangement4 ,for his double loss in this respect1 the reader may console himself by reflecting that a complete and systematic treatment of such a subject as the guidance of life could hardly fail to be a very wearisome business4 ,i have simply put down those of my thoughts which appear to be worth communicating--thoughts which1 as far as ,i know1 have not been uttered1 or1 at any rate1 not just in the same form1 by any one else2 so that my remarks may be taken as a supplement to what has been already achieved in the immense field4 ,however1 by way of introducing some sort of order into the great variety of matters upon which advice will be given in the following pages1 ,i shall distribute what ,i have to say under the following heads3 7#a7 general rules2 7#b7 our relation to ourselves2 7#c7 our relation to others2 and finally1 7#d7 rules which concern our manner of life and our worldly circumstances4 ,i shall conclude with some remarks on the changes which the various periods of life produce in us4 ,,chapter ,i4 ,,general ,,rules4--,,section #a4 ,the first and foremost rule for the wise conduct of life seems to me to be contained in a view to which ,aristotle parenthetically refers in the ,nichomachean ,ethics3#a ,greek3 o phronimoz to alupon dioke e ou to aedu or1 as it may be rendered1 not pleasure1 but freedom from pain1 is what the wise man will aim at4 ,footnote #a3 vii4 7#ab7 #ab4 ,the truth of this remark turns upon the negative character of happiness1--the fact that pleasure is only the negation of pain1 and that pain is the positive element in life4 ,though ,i have given a detailed proof of this proposition in my chief work1#a ,i may supply one more illustration of it here1 drawn from a circumstance of daily occurrence4 ,suppose that1 with the exception of some sore or painful spot1 we are physically in a sound and healthy condition3 the sore of this one spot1 will completely absorb our attention1 causing us to lose the sense of general well-being1 and destroying all our comfort in life4 ,in the same way1 when all our affairs but one turn out as we wish1 the single instance in which our aims are frustrated is a constant trouble to us1 even though it be something quite trivial4 ,we think a great deal about it1 and very little about those other and more important matters in which we have been successful4 ,in both these cases what has met with resistance is the will2 in the one case1 as it is objectified in the organism1 in the other1 as it presents itself in the struggle of life2 and in both1 it is plain that the satisfaction of the will consists in nothing else than that it meets with no resistance4 ,it is1 therefore1 a satisfaction which is not directly felt2 at most1 we can become conscious of it only when we reflect upon our condition4 ,but that which checks or arrests the will is something positive2 it proclaims its own presence4 ,all pleasure consists in merely removing this check--in other words1 in freeing us from its action2 and hence pleasure is a state which can never last very long4 ,footnote #a3 ,welt als ,wille und ,vorstellung4 ,vol4 ,i41 p4 #eh4 ,this is the true basis of the above excellent rule quoted from ,aristotle1 which bids us direct our aim1 not toward securing what is pleasurable and agreeable in life1 but toward avoiding1 as far as possible1 its innumerable evils4 ,if this were not the right course to take1 that saying of ,voltaire's1 ,happiness is but a dream and sorrow is real1 would be as false as it is1 in fact1 true4 ,a man who desires to make up the book of his life and determine where the balance of happiness lies1 must put down in his accounts1 not the pleasures which he has enjoyed1 but the evils which he has escaped4 ,that is the true method of eudaemonology2 for all eudaemonology must begin by recognizing that its very name is a euphemism1 and that to live happily only means to live less unhappily--to live a tolerable life4 ,there is no doubt that life is given us1 not to be enjoyed1 but to be overcome--to be got over4 ,there are numerous expressions illustrating this--such as degere vitam1 vita defungi2 or in ,italian1 si scampa cosi2 or in ,german1 man muss suchen durchzukommen2 er wird schon durch die ,welt kommen1 and so on4 ,in old age it is indeed a consolation to think that the work of life is over and done with4 ,the happiest lot is not to have experienced the keenest delights or the greatest pleasures1 but to have brought life to a close without any very great pain1 bodily or mental4 ,to measure the happiness of a life by its delights or pleasures1 is to apply a false standard4 ,for pleasures are and remain something negative2 that they produce happiness is a delusion1 cherished by envy to its own punishment4 ,pain is felt to be something positive1 and hence its absence is the true standard of happiness4 ,and if1 over and above freedom from pain1 there is also an absence of boredom1 the essential conditions of earthly happiness are attained2 for all else is chimerical4 ,it follows from this that a man should never try to purchase pleasure at the cost of pain1 or even at the risk of incurring it2 to do so is to pay what is positive and real1 for what is negative and illusory2 while there is a net profit in sacrificing pleasure for the sake of avoiding pain4 ,in either case it is a matter of indifference whether the pain follows the pleasure or precedes it4 ,while it is a complete inversion of the natural order to try and turn this scene of misery into a garden of pleasure1 to aim at joy and pleasure rather than at the greatest possible freedom from pain--and yet how many do it6--there is some wisdom in taking a gloomy view1 in looking upon the world as a kind of ,hell1 and in confining one's efforts to securing a little room that shall not be exposed to the fire4 ,the fool rushes after the pleasures of life and finds himself their dupe2 the wise man avoids its evils2 and even if1 notwithstanding his precautions1 he falls into misfortunes1 that is the fault of fate1 not of his own folly4 ,as far as he is successful in his endeavors1 he cannot be said to have lived a life of illusion2 for the evils which he shuns are very real4 ,even if he goes too far out of his way to avoid evils1 and makes an unnecessary sacrifice of pleasure1 he is1 in reality1 not the worse off for that2 for all pleasures are chimerical1 and to mourn for having lost any of them is a frivolous1 and even ridiculous proceeding4 ,the failure to recognize this truth--a failure promoted by optimistic ideas--is the source of much unhappiness4 ,in moments free from pain1 our restless wishes present1 as it were in a mirror1 the image of a happiness that has no counterpart in reality1 seducing us to follow it2 in doing so we bring pain upon ourselves1 and that is something undeniably real4 ,afterwards1 we come to look with regret upon that lost state of painlessness2 it is a paradise which we have gambled away2 it is no longer with us1 and we long in vain to undo what has been done4 ,one might well fancy that these visions of wishes fulfilled were the work of some evil spirit1 conjured up in order to entice us away from that painless state which forms our highest happiness4 ,a careless youth may think that the world is meant to be enjoyed1 as though it were the abode of some real or positive happiness1 which only those fail to attain who are not clever enough to overcome the difficulties that lie in the way4 ,this false notion takes a stronger hold on him when he comes to read poetry and romance1 and to be deceived by outward show--the hypocrisy that characterizes the world from beginning to end2 on which ,i shall have something to say presently4 ,the result is that his life is the more or less deliberate pursuit of positive happiness2 and happiness he takes to be equivalent to a series of definite pleasures4 ,in seeking for these pleasures he encounters danger--a fact which should not be forgotten4 ,he hunts for game that does not exist2 and so he ends by suffering some very real and positive misfortune--pain1 distress1 sickness1 loss1 care1 poverty1 shame1 and all the thousand ills of life4 ,too late he discovers the trick that has been played upon him4 ,but if the rule ,i have mentioned is observed1 and a plan of life is adopted which proceeds by avoiding pain--in other words1 by taking measures of precaution against want1 sickness1 and distress in all its forms1 the aim is a real one1 and something may be achieved which will be great in proportion as the plan is not disturbed by striving after the chimera of positive happiness4 ,this agrees with the opinion expressed by ,goethe in the ,elective ,affinities1 and there put into the mouth of ,mittler--the man who is always trying to make other people happy3 ,to desire to get rid of an evil is a definite object1 but to desire a better fortune than one has is blind folly4 ,the same truth is contained in that fine ,french proverb3 le mieux est l'ennemi du bien--leave well alone4 ,and1 as ,i have remarked in my chief work1#a this is the leading thought underlying the philosophical system of the ,cynics4 ,for what was it led the ,cynics to repudiate pleasure in every form1 if it was not the fact that pain is1 in a greater or less degree1 always bound up with pleasure8 ,to go out of the way of pain seemed to them so much easier than to secure pleasure4 ,deeply impressed as they were by the negative nature of pleasure and the positive nature of pain1 they consistently devoted all their efforts to the avoidance of pain4 ,the first step to that end was1 in their opinion1 a complete and deliberate repudiation of pleasure1 as something which served only to entrap the victim in order that he might be delivered over to pain4 ,footnote #a3 ,welt als ,wille und ,vorstellung1 vol4 ii41 ch4 #af4 ,we are all born1 as ,schiller says1 in ,arcadia4 ,in other words1 we come into the world full of claims to happiness and pleasure1 and we cherish the fond hope of making them good4 ,but1 as a rule1 ,fate soon teaches us1 in a rough and ready way that we really possess nothing at all1 but that everything in the world is at its command1 in virtue of an unassailable right1 not only to all we have or acquire1 to wife or child1 but even to our very limbs1 our arms1 legs1 eyes and ears1 nay1 even to the nose in the middle of our face4 ,and in any case1 after some little time1 we learn by experience that happiness and pleasure are a fata morgana1 which1 visible from afar1 vanish as we approach2 that1 on the other hand1 suffering and pain are a reality1 which makes its presence felt without any intermediary1 and for its effect1 stands in no need of illusion or the play of false hope4 ,if the teaching of experience bears fruit in us1 we soon give up the pursuit of pleasure and happiness1 and think much more about making ourselves secure against the attacks of pain and suffering4 ,we see that the best the world has to offer is an existence free from pain--a quiet1 tolerable life2 and we confine our claims to this1 as to something we can more surely hope to achieve4 ,for the safest way of not being very miserable is not to expect to be very happy4 ,merck1 the friend of ,goethe's youth1 was conscious of this truth when he wrote3 ,it is the wretched way people have of setting up a claim to happiness--and1 that to1 in a measure corresponding with their desires--that ruins everything in this world4 ,a man will make progress if he can get rid of this claim1#a and desire nothing but what he sees before him4 ,accordingly it is advisable to put very moderate limits upon our expectations of pleasure1 possessions1 rank1 honor and so on2 because it is just this striving and struggling to be happy1 to dazzle the world1 to lead a life full of pleasure1 which entail great misfortune4 ,it is prudent and wise1 ,i say1 to reduce one's claims1 if only for the reason that it is extremely easy to be very unhappy2 while to be very happy is not indeed difficult1 but quite impossible4 ,with justice sings the poet of life's wisdom3 ,auream quisquis mediocritatem ,diligit1 tutus caret obsoleti ,sordibus tecti1 caret invidenda ,sobrius aula4 ,savius ventis agitatur ingens ,pinus3 et celsae graviori casu ,decidunt turres2 feriuntque summos ,fulgura monies4#b --the golden mean is best--to live free from the squalor of a mean abode1 and yet not be a mark for envy4 ,it is the tall pine which is cruelly shaken by the wind1 the highest summits that are struck in the storm1 and the lofty towers that fall so heavily4 ,footnote #a3 ,letters to and from ,merck4 ,footnote #b3 ,horace4 ,odes ,,ii4 x4 ,he who has taken to heart the teaching of my philosophy--who knows1 therefore1 that our whole existence is something which had better not have been1 and that to disown and disclaim it is the highest wisdom--he will have no great expectations from anything or any condition in life3 he will spend passion upon nothing in the world1 nor lament over-much if he fails in any of his undertakings4 ,he will feel the deep truth of what ,plato#a says3 ,greek3 oute ti ton anthropinon haxion on megalaes spondaes--nothing in human affairs is worth any great anxiety2 or1 as the ,persian poet has it1 ,though from thy grasp all worldly things should flee1 ,grieve not for them1 for they are nothing worth3 ,and though a world in thy possession be1 ,joy not1 for worthless are the things of earth4 ,since to that better world 'tis given to thee ,to pass1 speed on1 for this is nothing worth4#b ,footnote #a3 ,republic1 x4 #fjd4 ,footnote #b3 ,translator's ,note4 ,from the ,anvr-i ,suhail--,the ,lights of ,canopus--being the ,persian version of the ,table of ,bidpai4 ,translated by ,e4,b4 ,eastwick1 ch4 iii4 ,story vi41 p4 #bhi4 ,the chief obstacle to our arriving at these salutary views is that hypocrisy of the world to which ,i have already alluded--an hypocrisy which should be early revealed to the young4 ,most of the glories of the world are mere outward show1 like the scenes on a stage3 there is nothing real about them4 ,ships festooned and hung with pennants1 firing of cannon1 illuminations1 beating of drums and blowing of trumpets1 shouting and applauding--these are all the outward sign1 the pretence and suggestion1--as it were the hieroglyphic1--of joy3 but just there1 joy is1 as a rule1 not to be found2 it is the only guest who has declined to be present at the festival4 ,where this guest may really be found1 he comes generally without invitation2 he is not formerly announced1 but slips in quietly by himself sans facon2 often making his appearance under the most unimportant and trivial circumstances1 and in the commonest company--anywhere1 in short1 but where the society is brilliant and distinguished4 ,joy is like the gold in the ,australian mines--found only now and then1 as it were1 by the caprice of chance1 and according to no rule or law2 oftenest in very little grains1 and very seldom in heaps4 ,all that outward show which ,i have described1 is only an attempt to make people believe that it is really joy which has come to the festival2 and to produce this impression upon the spectators is1 in fact1 the whole object of it4 ,with mourning it is just the same4 ,that long funeral procession1 moving up so slowly2 how melancholy it looks6 what an endless row of carriages6 ,but look into them--they are all empty2 the coachmen of the whole town are the sole escort the dead man has to his grave4 ,eloquent picture of the friendship and esteem of the world6 ,this is the falsehood1 the hollowness1 the hypocrisy of human affairs6 ,take another example--a roomful of guests in full dress1 being received with great ceremony4 ,you could almost believe that this is a noble and distinguished company2 but1 as a matter of fact1 it is compulsion1 pain and boredom who are the real guests4 ,for where many are invited1 it is a rabble--even if they all wear stars4 ,really good society is everywhere of necessity very small4 ,in brilliant festivals and noisy entertainments1 there is always1 at bottom1 a sense of emptiness prevalent4 ,a false tone is there3 such gatherings are in strange contrast with the misery and barrenness of our existence4 ,the contrast brings the true condition into greater relief4 ,still1 these gatherings are effective from the outside2 and that is just their purpose4 ,chamfort#a makes the excellent remark that society--les cercles1 les salons1 ce qu'on appelle le monde--is like a miserable play1 or a bad opera1 without any interest in itself1 but supported for a time by mechanical aid1 costumes and scenery4 ,footnote #a3 ,translator's ,note4 ,nicholas ,chamfort 7#agda-id71 a ,french miscellaneous writer1 whose brilliant conversation1 power of sarcasm1 and epigrammic force1 coupled with an extraordinary career1 render him one of the most interesting and remarkable men of his time4 ,schopenhauer undoubtedly owed much to this writer1 to whom he constantly refers4 ,and so1 too1 with academies and chairs of philosophy4 ,you have a kind of sign-board hung out to show the apparent abode of wisdom3 but wisdom is another guest who declines the invitation2 she is to be found elsewhere4 ,the chiming of bells1 ecclesiastical millinery1 attitudes of devotion1 insane antics--these are the pretence1 the false show of piety4 ,and so on4 ,everything in the world is like a hollow nut2 there is little kernel anywhere1 and when it does exist1 it is still more rare to find it in the shell4 ,you may look for it elsewhere1 and find it1 as a rule1 only by chance4 ,,section #b4 ,to estimate a man's condition in regard to happiness1 it is necessary to ask1 not what things please him1 but what things trouble him2 and the more trivial these things are in themselves1 the happier the man will be4 ,to be irritated by trifles1 a man must be well off2 for in misfortunes trifles are unfelt4 ,,section #c4 ,care should be taken not to build the happiness of life upon a broad foundation--not to require a great many things in order to be happy4 ,for happiness on such a foundation is the most easily undermined2 it offers many more opportunities for accidents2 and accidents are always happening4 ,the architecture of happiness follows a plan in this respect just the opposite of that adopted in every other case1 where the broadest foundation offers the greatest security4 ,accordingly1 to reduce your claims to the lowest possible degree1 in comparison with your means1--of whatever kind these may be--is the surest way of avoiding extreme misfortune4 ,to make extensive preparations for life--no matter what form they may take--is one of the greatest and commonest of follies4 ,such preparations presuppose1 in the first place1 a long life1 the full and complete term of years appointed to man--and how few reach it6 and even if it be reached1 it is still too short for all the plans that have been made2 for to carry them out requites more time than was thought necessary at the beginning4 ,and then how many mischances and obstacles stand in the way6 how seldom the goal is ever reached in human affairs6 ,and lastly1 even though the goal should be reached1 the changes which ,time works in us have been left out of the reckoning3 we forget that the capacity whether for achievement or for enjoyment does not last a whole lifetime4 ,so we often toil for things which are no longer suited to us when we attain them2 and again1 the years we spend in preparing for some work1 unconsciously rob us of the power for carrying it out4 ,how often it happens that a man is unable to enjoy the wealth which he acquired at so much trouble and risk1 and that the fruits of his labor are reserved for others2 or that he is incapable of filling the position which he has won after so many years of toil and struggle4 ,fortune has come too late for him2 or1 contrarily1 he has come too late for fortune1--when1 for instance1 he wants to achieve great things1 say1 in art or literature3 the popular taste has changed1 it may be2 a new generation has grown up1 which takes no interest in his work2 others have gone a shorter way and got the start of him4 ,these are the facts of life which ,horace must have had in view1 when he lamented the uselessness of all advice3-- quid eternis minorem ,consiliis animum fatigas8#a ,footnote #a3 ,odes ,,ii4 xi4 ,the cause of this commonest of all follies is that optical illusion of the mind from which everyone suffers1 making life1 at its beginning1 seem of long duration2 and at its end1 when one looks back over the course of it1 how short a time it seems6 ,there is some advantage in the illusion2 but for it1 no great work would ever be done4 ,our life is like a journey on which1 as we advance1 the landscape takes a different view from that which it presented at first1 and changes again1 as we come nearer4 ,this is just what happens--especially with our wishes4 ,we often find something else1 nay1 something better than what we are looking for2 and what we look for1 we often find on a very different path from that on which we began a vain search4 ,instead of finding1 as we expected1 pleasure1 happiness1 joy1 we get experience1 insight1 knowledge--a real and permanent blessing1 instead of a fleeting and illusory one4 ,this is the thought that runs through ,wilkelm ,meister1 like the bass in a piece of music4 ,in this work of ,goethe's1 we have a novel of the intellectual kind1 and1 therefore1 superior to all others1 even to ,sir ,walter ,scott's1 which are1 one and all1 ethical2 in other words1 they treat of human nature only from the side of the will4 ,so1 too1 in the ,zauberflte--that grotesque1 but still significant1 and even hieroglyphic--the same thought is symbolized1 but in great1 coarse lines1 much in the way in which scenery is painted4 ,here the symbol would be complete if ,tamino were in the end to be cured of his desire to possess ,tainina1 and received1 in her stead1 initiation into the mysteries of the ,temple of ,wisdom4 ,it is quite right for ,papageno1 his necessary contrast1 to succeed in getting his ,papagena4 ,men of any worth or value soon come to see that they are in the hands of ,fate1 and gratefully submit to be moulded by its teachings4 ,they recognize that the fruit of life is experience1 and not happiness2 they become accustomed and content to exchange hope for insight2 and1 in the end1 they can say1 with ,petrarch1 that all they care for is to learn3-- ,altro diletto che 'mparar1 non provo4 ,it may even be that they to some extent still follow their old wishes and aims1 trifling with them1 as it were1 for the sake of appearances2 all the while really and seriously looking for nothing but instruction2 a process which lends them an air of genius1 a trait of something contemplative and sublime4 ,in their search for gold1 the alchemists discovered other things--gunpowder1 china1 medicines1 the laws of nature4 ,there is a sense in which we are all alchemists4 ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,,our ,,relation ,,to ,,ourselves4--,,section #d4 ,the mason employed on the building of a house may be quite ignorant of its general design2 or at any rate1 he may not keep it constantly in mind4 ,so it is with man3 in working through the days and hours of his life1 he takes little thought of its character as a whole4 ,if there is any merit or importance attaching to a man's career1 if he lays himself out carefully for some special work1 it is all the more necessary and advisable for him to turn his attention now and then to its plan1 that is to say1 the miniature sketch of its general outlines4 ,of course1 to do that1 he must have applied the maxim ,greek3 ,gnothi seauton2 he must have made some little progress in the art of understanding himself4 ,he must know what is his real1 chief1 and foremost object in life1--what it is that he most wants in order to be happy2 and then1 after that1 what occupies the second and third place in his thoughts2 he must find out what1 on the whole1 his vocation really is--the part he has to play1 his general relation to the world4 ,if he maps out important work for himself on great lines1 a glance at this miniature plan of his life will1 more than anything else stimulate1 rouse and ennoble him1 urge him on to action and keep him from false paths4 ,again1 just as the traveler1 on reaching a height1 gets a connected view over the road he has taken1 with its many turns and windings2 so it is only when we have completed a period in our life1 or approach the end of it altogether1 that we recognize the true connection between all our actions1--what it is we have achieved1 what work we have done4 ,it is only then that we see the precise chain of cause and effect1 and the exact value of all our efforts4 ,for as long as we are actually engaged in the work of life1 we always act in accordance with the nature of our character1 under the influence of motive1 and within the limits of our capacity1--in a word1 from beginning to end1 under a law of necessity2 at every moment we do just what appears to us right and proper4 ,it is only afterwards1 when we come to look back at the whole course of our life and its general result1 that we see the why and wherefore of it all4 ,when we are actually doing some great deed1 or creating some immortal work1 we are not conscious of it as such2 we think only of satisfying present aims1 of fulfilling the intentions we happen to have at the time1 of doing the right thing at the moment4 ,it is only when we come to view our life as a connected whole that our character and capacities show themselves in their true light2 that we see how1 in particular instances1 some happy inspiration1 as it were1 led us to choose the only true path out of a thousand which might have brought us to ruin4 ,it was our genius that guided us1 a force felt in the affairs of the intellectual as in those of the world2 and working by its defect just in the same way in regard to evil and disaster4 ,,section #e4 ,another important element in the wise conduct of life is to preserve a proper proportion between our thought for the present and our thought for the future2 in order not to spoil the one by paying over-great attention to the other4 ,many live too long in the present--frivolous people1 ,i mean2 others1 too much in the future1 ever anxious and full of care4 ,it is seldom that a man holds the right balance between the two extremes4 ,those who strive and hope and live only in the future1 always looking ahead and impatiently anticipating what is coming1 as something which will make them happy when they get it1 are1 in spite of their very clever airs1 exactly like those donkeys one sees in ,italy1 whose pace may be hurried by fixing a stick on their heads with a wisp of hay at the end of it2 this is always just in front of them1 and they keep on trying to get it4 ,such people are in a constant state of illusion as to their whole existence2 they go on living ad interim1 until at last they die4 ,instead1 therefore1 of always thinking about our plans and anxiously looking to the future1 or of giving ourselves up to regret for the past1 we should never forget that the present is the only reality1 the only certainty2 that the future almost always turns out contrary to our expectations2 that the past1 too1 was very different from what we suppose it to have been4 ,but the past and the future are1 on the whole1 of less consequence than we think4 ,distance1 which makes objects look small to the outward eye1 makes them look big to the eye of thought4 ,the present alone is true and actual2 it is the only time which possesses full reality1 and our existence lies in it exclusively4 ,therefore we should always be glad of it1 and give it the welcome it deserves1 and enjoy every hour that is bearable by its freedom from pain and annoyance with a full consciousness of its value4 ,we shall hardly be able to do this if we make a wry face over the failure of our hopes in the past or over our anxiety for the future4 ,it is the height of folly to refuse the present hour of happiness1 or wantonly to spoil it by vexation at by-gones or uneasiness about what is to come4 ,there is a time1 of course1 for forethought1 nay1 even for repentance2 but when it is over let us think of what is past as of something to which we have said farewell1 of necessity subduing our hearts-- ,greek3 alla ta men protuchthai easomen achnumenoi per tumhon eni staethessi philon damasntes hanankae1#a and of the future as of that which lies beyond our power1 in the lap of the gods-- ,greek3 all aetoi men tauta theon en gounasi keitai4#b ,footnote #a3 ,iliad1 xix1 #fe4 ,footnote #b3 ,ibid1 xvii1 #ead ,but in regard to the present let us remember ,seneca's advice1 and live each day as if it were our whole life1--singulas dies singulas vitas puta3 let us make it as agreeable as possible1 it is the only real time we have4 ,only those evils which are sure to come at a definite date have any right to disturb us2 and how few there are which fulfill this description4 ,for evils are of two kinds2 either they are possible only1 at most probable2 or they are inevitable4 ,even in the case of evils which are sure to happen1 the time at which they will happen is uncertain4 ,a man who is always preparing for either class of evil will not have a moment of peace left him4 ,so1 if we are not to lose all comfort in life through the fear of evils1 some of which are uncertain in themselves1 and others1 in the time at which they will occur1 we should look upon the one kind as never likely to happen1 and the other as not likely to happen very soon4 ,now1 the less our peace of mind is disturbed by fear1 the more likely it is to be agitated by desire and expectation4 ,this is the true meaning of that song of ,goethe's which is such a favorite with everyone3 ,ich hab' mein' ,sach' auf nichts gestellt4 ,it is only after a man has got rid of all pretension1 and taken refuge in mere unembellished existence1 that he is able to attain that peace of mind which is the foundation of human happiness4 ,peace of mind6 that is something essential to any enjoyment of the present moment2 and unless its separate moments are enjoyed1 there is an end of life's happiness as a whole4 ,we should always collect that ,to-day comes only once1 and never returns4 ,we fancy that it will come again to-morrow2 but ,to-morrow is another day1 which1 in its turn1 comes once only4 ,we are apt to forget that every day is an integral1 and therefore irreplaceable portion of life1 and to look upon life as though it were a collective idea or name which does not suffer if one of the individuals it covers is destroyed4 ,we should be more likely to appreciate and enjoy the present1 if1 in those good days when we are well and strong1 we did not fail to reflect how1 in sickness and sorrow1 every past hour that was free from pain and privation seemed in our memory so infinitely to be envied--as it were1 a lost paradise1 or some one who was only then seen to have acted as a friend4 ,but we live through our days of happiness without noticing them2 it is only when evil comes upon us that we wish them back4 ,a thousand gay and pleasant hours are wasted in ill-humor2 we let them slip by unenjoyed1 and sigh for them in vain when the sky is overcast4 ,those present moments that are bearable1 be they never so trite and common1--passed by in indifference1 or1 it may be1 impatiently pushed away1--those are the moments we should honor2 never failing to remember that the ebbing tide is even how hurrying them into the past1 where memory will store them transfigured and shining with an imperishable light1--in some after-time1 and above all1 when our days are evil1 to raise the veil and present them as the object of our fondest regret4 ,,section #f4 ,limitations always make for happiness4 ,we are happy in proportion as our range of vision1 our sphere of work1 our points of contact with the world1 are restricted and circumscribed4 ,we are more likely to feel worried and anxious if these limits are wide2 for it means that our cares1 desires and terrors are increased and intensified4 ,that is why the blind are not so unhappy as we might be inclined to suppose2 otherwise there would not be that gentle and almost serene expression of peace in their faces4 ,another reason why limitation makes for happiness is that the second half of life proves even more dreary that the first4 ,as the years wear on1 the horizon of our aims and our points of contact with the world become more extended4 ,in childhood our horizon is limited to the narrowest sphere about us2 in youth there is already a very considerable widening of our view2 in manhood it comprises the whole range of our activity1 often stretching out over a very distant sphere1--the care1 for instance1 of a ,state or a nation2 in old age it embraces posterity4 ,but even in the affairs of the intellect1 limitation is necessary if we are to be happy4 ,for the less the will is excited1 the less we suffer4 ,we have seen that suffering is something positive1 and that happiness is only a negative condition4 ,to limit the sphere of outward activity is to relieve the will of external stimulus3 to limit the sphere of our intellectual efforts is to relieve the will of internal sources of excitement4 ,this latter kind of limitation is attended by the disadvantage that it opens the door to boredom1 which is a direct source of countless sufferings2 for to banish boredom1 a man will have recourse to any means that may be handy--dissipation1 society1 extravagance1 gaming1 and drinking1 and the like1 which in their turn bring mischief1 ruin and misery in their train4 ,difficiles in otio quies--it is difficult to keep quiet if you have nothing to do4 ,that limitation in the sphere of outward activity is conducive1 nay1 even necessary to human happiness1 such as it is1 may be seen in the fact that the only kind of poetry which depicts men in a happy state of life--,idyllic poetry1 ,i mean1--always aims1 as an intrinsic part of its treatment1 at representing them in very simple and restricted circumstances4 ,it is this feeling1 too1 which is at the bottom of the pleasure we take in what are called genre pictures4 ,simplicity1 therefore1 as far as it can be attained1 and even monotony1 in our manner of life1 if it does not mean that we are bored1 will contribute to happiness2 just because1 under such circumstances1 life1 and consequently the burden which is the essential concomitant of life1 will be least felt4 ,our existence will glide on peacefully like a stream which no waves or whirlpools disturb4 ,,section #g4 ,whether we are in a pleasant or a painful state depends1 ultimately1 upon the kind of matter that pervades and engrosses our consciousness4 ,in this respect1 purely intellectual occupation1 for the mind that is capable of it1 will1 as a rule1 do much more in the way of happiness than any form of practical life1 with its constant alternations of success and failure1 and all the shocks and torments it produces4 ,but it must be confessed that for such occupation a pre-eminent amount of intellectual capacity is necessary4 ,and in this connection it may be noted that1 just as a life devoted to outward activity will distract and divert a man from study1 and also deprive him of that quiet concentration of mind which is necessary for such work2 so1 on the other hand1 a long course of thought will make him more or less unfit for the noisy pursuits of real life4 ,it is advisable1 therefore1 to suspend mental work for a while1 if circumstances happen which demand any degree of energy in affairs of a practical nature4 ,,section #h4 ,to live a life that shall be entirely prudent and discreet1 and to draw from experience all the instruction it contains1 it is requisite to be constantly thinking back1--to make a kind of recapitulation of what we have done1 of our impressions and sensations1 to compare our former with our present judgments--what we set before us and struggle to achieve1 with the actual result and satisfaction we have obtained4 ,to do this is to get a repetition of the private lessons of experience1--lessons which are given to every one4 ,experience of the world may be looked upon as a kind of text1 to which reflection and knowledge form the commentary4 ,where there is great deal of reflection and intellectual knowledge1 and very little experience1 the result is like those books which have on each page two lines of text to forty lines of commentary4 ,a great deal of experience with little reflection and scant knowledge1 gives us books like those of the editio ,bipontina#a where there are no notes and much that is unintelligible4 ,footnote #a3 ,translator's ,note4 ,a series of ,greek1 ,latin and ,french classics published at ,zweibrcken in the ,palatinate1 from and after the year #aggi4 ,cf4 ,butter1 ,ueber die ,bipontiner und die editiones ,bipontinae4 ,the advice here given is on a par with a rule recommended by ,pythagoras1--to review1 every night before going to sleep1 what we have done during the day4 ,to live at random1 in the hurly-burly of business or pleasure1 without ever reflecting upon the past1--to go on1 as it were1 pulling cotton off the reel of life1--is to have no clear idea of what we are about2 and a man who lives in this state will have chaos in his emotions and certain confusion in his thoughts2 as is soon manifest by the abrupt and fragmentary character of his conversation1 which becomes a kind of mincemeat4 ,a man will be all the more exposed to this fate in proportion as he lives a restless life in the world1 amid a crowd of various impressions and with a correspondingly small amount of activity on the part of his own mind4 ,and in this connection it will be in place to observe that1 when events and circumstances which have influenced us pass away in the course of time1 we are unable to bring back and renew the particular mood or state of feeling which they aroused in us3 but we can remember what we were led to say and do in regard to them2 and thus form1 as it were1 the result1 expression and measure of those events4 ,we should1 therefore1 be careful to preserve the memory of our thoughts at important points in our life2 and herein lies the great advantage of keeping a journal4 ,,section #i4 ,to be self-sufficient1 to be all in all to oneself1 to want for nothing1 to be able to say omnia mea mecum porto--that is assuredly the chief qualification for happiness4 ,hence ,aristotle's remark1 ,greek3 hae eudaimonia ton autarchon esti#a--to be happy means to be self-sufficient--cannot be too often repeated4 ,it is1 at bottom1 the same thought as is present in the very well-turned sentence from ,chamfort3 ,le bonheur n'est pas chose aise3 il est trs difficile de le trouver en nous1 et impossible de le trouver ailleurs4 ,footnote #a3 ,eudem4 ,eth4 ,,vii4 ii4 #cg4 ,for while a man cannot reckon with certainty upon anyone but himself1 the burdens and disadvantages1 the dangers and annoyances1 which arise from having to do with others1 are not only countless but unavoidable4 ,there is no more mistaken path to happiness than worldliness1 revelry1 high life3 for the whole object of it is to transform our miserable existence into a succession of joys1 delights and pleasures1--a process which cannot fail to result in disappointment and delusion2 on a par1 in this respect1 with its obligato accompaniment1 the interchange of lies4#a ,footnote #a3 ,as our body is concealed by the clothes we wear1 so our mind is veiled in lies4 ,the veil is always there1 and it is only through it that we can sometimes guess at what a man really thinks2 just as from his clothes we arrive at the general shape of his body4 ,all society necessarily involves1 as the first condition of its existence1 mutual accommodation and restraint upon the part of its members4 ,this means that the larger it is1 the more insipid will be its tone4 ,a man can be himself only so long as he is alone2 and if he does not love solitude1 he will not love freedom2 for it is only when he is alone that he is really free4 ,constraint is always present in society1 like a companion of whom there is no riddance2 and in proportion to the greatness of a man's individuality1 it will be hard for him to bear the sacrifices which all intercourse with others demands1 ,solitude will be welcomed or endured or avoided1 according as a man's personal value is large or small1--the wretch feeling1 when he is alone1 the whole burden of his misery2 the great intellect delighting in its greatness2 and everyone1 in short1 being just what he is4 ,further1 if a man stands high in ,nature's lists1 it is natural and inevitable that he should feel solitary4 ,it will be an advantage to him if his surroundings do not interfere with this feeling2 for if he has to see a great deal of other people who are not of like character with himself1 they will exercise a disturbing influence upon him1 adverse to his peace of mind2 they will rob him1 in fact1 of himself1 and give him nothing to compensate for the loss4 ,but while ,nature sets very wide differences between man and man in respect both of morality and of intellect1 society disregards and effaces them2 or1 rather1 it sets up artificial differences in their stead1--gradations of rank and position1 which are very often diametrically opposed to those which ,nature establishes4 ,the result of this arrangement is to elevate those whom ,nature has placed low1 and to depress the few who stand high4 ,these latter1 then1 usually withdraw from society1 where1 as soon as it is at all numerous1 vulgarity reigns supreme4 ,what offends a great intellect in society is the equality of rights1 leading to equality of pretensions1 which everyone enjoys2 while at the same time1 inequality of capacity means a corresponding disparity of social power4 ,so-called good society recognizes every kind of claim but that of intellect1 which is a contraband article2 and people are expected to exhibit an unlimited amount of patience towards every form of folly and stupidity1 perversity and dullness2 whilst personal merit has to beg pardon1 as it were1 for being present1 or else conceal itself altogether4 ,intellectual superiority offends by its very existence1 without any desire to do so4 ,the worst of what is called good society is not only that it offers us the companionship of people who are unable to win either our praise or our affection1 but that it does not allow of our being that which we naturally are2 it compels us1 for the sake of harmony1 to shrivel up1 or even alter our shape altogether4 ,intellectual conversation1 whether grave or humorous1 is only fit for intellectual society2 it is downright abhorrent to ordinary people1 to please whom it is absolutely necessary to be commonplace and dull4 ,this demands an act of severe self-denial2 we have to forfeit three-fourths of ourselves in order to become like other people4 ,no doubt their company may be set down against our loss in this respect2 but the more a man is worth1 the more he will find that what he gains does not cover what he loses1 and that the balance is on the debit side of the account2 for the people with whom he deals are generally bankrupt1--that is to say1 there is nothing to be got from their society which can compensate either for its boredom1 annoyance and disagreeableness1 or for the self-denial which it renders necessary4 ,accordingly1 most society is so constituted as to offer a good profit to anyone who will exchange it for solitude4 ,nor is this all4 ,by way of providing a substitute for real--,i mean intellectual--superiority1 which is seldom to be met with1 and intolerable when it is found1 society has capriciously adopted a false kind of superiority1 conventional in its character1 and resting upon arbitrary principles1--a tradition1 as it were1 handed down in the higher circles1 and1 like a password1 subject to alteration2 ,i refer to bon-ton fashion4 ,whenever this kind of superiority comes into collision with the real kind1 its weakness is manifest4 ,moreover1 the presence of good tone means the absence of good sense4 ,no man can be in perfect accord with any one but himself--not even with a friend or the partner of his life2 differences of individuality and temperament are always bringing in some degree of discord1 though it may be a very slight one4 ,that genuine1 profound peace of mind1 that perfect tranquillity of soul1 which1 next to health1 is the highest blessing the earth can give1 is to be attained only in solitude1 and1 as a permanent mood1 only in complete retirement2 and then1 if there is anything great and rich in the man's own self1 his way of life is the happiest that may be found in this wretched world4 ,let me speak plainly4 ,however close the bond of friendship1 love1 marriage--a man1 ultimately1 looks to himself1 to his own welfare alone2 at most1 to his child's too4 ,the less necessity there is for you to come into contact with mankind in general1 in the relations whether of business or of personal intimacy1 the better off you are4 ,loneliness and solitude have their evils1 it is true2 but if you cannot feel them all at once1 you can at least see where they lie2 on the other hand1 society is insidious in this respect2 as in offering you what appears to be the pastime of pleasing social intercourse1 it works great and often irreparable mischief4 ,the young should early be trained to bear being left alone2 for it is a source of happiness and peace of mind4 ,it follows from this that a man is best off if he be thrown upon his own resources and can be all in all to himself2 and ,cicero goes so far as to say that a man who is in this condition cannot fail to be very happy--nemo potest non beatissimus esse qui est totus aptus ex sese1 quique in se uno ponit omnia4#a ,the more a man has in himself1 the less others can be to him4 ,the feeling of self-sufficiency6 it is that which restrains those whose personal value is in itself great riches1 from such considerable sacrifices as are demanded by intercourse with the world1 let alone1 then1 from actually practicing self-denial by going out of their way to seek it4 ,ordinary people are sociable and complaisant just from the very opposite feeling2--to bear others' company is easier for them than to bear their own4 ,moreover1 respect is not paid in this world to that which has real merit2 it is reserved for that which has none4 ,so retirement is at once a proof and a result of being distinguished by the possession of meritorious qualities4 ,it will therefore show real wisdom on the part of any one who is worth anything in himself1 to limit his requirements as may be necessary1 in order to preserve or extend his freedom1 and1--since a man must come into some relations with his fellow-men--to admit them to his intimacy as little as possible4 ,footnote #a3 ,paradoxa ,stoidorum3 ,,ii4 ,i have said that people are rendered sociable by their ability to endure solitude1 that is to say1 their own society4 ,they become sick of themselves4 ,it is this vacuity of soul which drives them to intercourse with others1--to travels in foreign countries4 ,their mind is wanting in elasticity2 it has no movement of its own1 and so they try to give it some1--by drink1 for instance4 ,how much drunkenness is due to this cause alone6 ,they are always looking for some form of excitement1 of the strongest kind they can bear--the excitement of being with people of like nature with themselves2 and if they fail in this1 their mind sinks by its own weight1 and they fall into a grievous lethargy4#a ,such people1 it may be said1 possess only a small fraction of humanity in themselves2 and it requires a great many of them put together to make up a fair amount of it1--to attain any degree of consciousness as men4 ,a man1 in the full sense of the word1--a man par excellence--does not represent a fraction1 but a whole number3 he is complete in himself4 ,footnote #a3 ,it is a well-known fact1 that we can more easily bear up under evils which fall upon a great many people besides ourselves4 ,as boredom seems to be an evil of this kind1 people band together to offer it a common resistance4 ,the love of life is at bottom only the fear of death2 and1 in the same way1 the social impulse does not rest directly upon the love of society1 but upon the fear of solitude2 it is not alone the charm of being in others' company that people seek1 it is the dreary oppression of being alone--the monotony of their own consciousness--that they would avoid4 ,they will do anything to escape it1--even tolerate bad companions1 and put up with the feeling of constraint which all society involves1 in this case a very burdensome one4 ,but if aversion to such society conquers the aversion to being alone1 they become accustomed to solitude and hardened to its immediate effects4 ,they no longer find solitude to be such a very bad thing1 and settle down comfortably to it without any hankering after society2--and this1 partly because it is only indirectly that they need others' company1 and partly because they have become accustomed to the benefits of being alone4 ,ordinary society is1 in this respect1 very like the kind of music to be obtained from an orchestra composed of ,russian horns4 ,each horn has only one note2 and the music is produced by each note coming in just at the right moment4 ,in the monotonous sound of a single horn1 you have a precise illustration of the effect of most people's minds4 ,how often there seems to be only one thought there6 and no room for any other4 ,it is easy to see why people are so bored2 and also why they are sociable1 why they like to go about in crowds--why mankind is so gregarious4 ,it is the monotony of his own nature that makes a man find solitude intolerable4 ,omnis stultitia laborat fastidio sui3 folly is truly its own burden4 ,put a great many men together1 and you may get some result--some music from your horns6 ,a man of intellect is like an artist who gives a concert without any help from anyone else1 playing on a single instrument--a piano1 say1 which is a little orchestra in itself4 ,such a man is a little world in himself2 and the effect produced by various instruments together1 he produces single-handed1 in the unity of his own consciousness4 ,like the piano1 he has no place in a symphony3 he is a soloist and performs by himself1--in solitude1 it may be2 or1 if in company with other instruments1 only as principal2 or for setting the tone1 as in singing4 ,however1 those who are fond of society from time to time may profit by this simile1 and lay it down as a general rule that deficiency of quality in those we meet may be to some extent compensated by an increase in quantity4 ,one man's company may be quite enough1 if he is clever2 but where you have only ordinary people to deal with1 it is advisable to have a great many of them1 so that some advantage may accrue by letting them all work together1--on the analogy of the horns2 and may ,heaven grant you patience for your task6 ,that mental vacuity and barrenness of soul to which ,i have alluded1 is responsible for another misfortune4 ,when men of the better class form a society for promoting some noble or ideal aim1 the result almost always is that the innumerable mob of humanity comes crowding in too1 as it always does everywhere1 like vermin--their object being to try and get rid of boredom1 or some other defect of their nature2 and anything that will effect that1 they seize upon at once1 without the slightest discrimination4 ,some of them will slip into that society1 or push themselves in1 and then either soon destroy it altogether1 or alter it so much that in the end it comes to have a purpose the exact opposite of that which it had at first4 ,this is not the only point of view from which the social impulse may be regarded4 ,on cold days people manage to get some warmth by crowding together2 and you can warm your mind in the same way--by bringing it into contact with others4 ,but a man who has a great deal of intellectual warmth in himself will stand in no need of such resources4 ,i have written a little fable illustrating this3 it may be found elsewhere4#a ,as a general rule1 it may be said that a man's sociability stands very nearly in inverse ratio to his intellectual value3 to say that so and so is very unsociable1 is almost tantamount to saying that he is a man of great capacity4 ,footnote #a3 ,translator's ,note4 ,the passage to which ,schopenhauer refers is ,parerga3 vol4 ii4 #dac 7#dth edition74 ,the fable is of certain porcupines1 who huddled together for warmth on a cold day2 but as they began to prick one another with their quills1 they were obliged to disperse4 ,however the cold drove them together again1 when just the same thing happened4 ,at last1 after many turns of huddling and dispersing1 they discovered that they would be best off by remaining at a little distance from one another4 ,in the same way1 the need of society drives the human porcupines together--only to be mutually repelled by the many prickly and disagreeable qualities of their nature4 ,the moderate distance which they at last discover to be the only tolerable condition of intercourse1 is the code of politeness and fine manners2 and those who transgress it are roughly told--in the ,english phrase--to keep their distance4 ,by this arrangement the mutual need of warmth is only very moderately satisfied1--but then people do not get pricked4 ,a man who has some heat in himself prefers to remain outside1 where he will neither prick other people nor get pricked himself4 ,solitude is doubly advantageous to such a man4 ,firstly1 it allows him to be with himself1 and1 secondly1 it prevents him being with others--an advantage of great moment2 for how much constraint1 annoyance1 and even danger there is in all intercourse with the world4 ,tout notre mal1 says ,la ,bruyre1 vient de ne pouvoir tre seul4 ,it is really a very risky1 nay1 a fatal thing1 to be sociable2 because it means contact with natures1 the great majority of which are bad morally1 and dull or perverse1 intellectually4 ,to be unsociable is not to care about such people2 and to have enough in oneself to dispense with the necessity of their company is a great piece of good fortune2 because almost all our sufferings spring from having to do with other people2 and that destroys the peace of mind1 which1 as ,i have said1 comes next after health in the elements of happiness4 ,peace of mind is impossible without a considerable amount of solitude4 ,the ,cynics renounced all private property in order to attain the bliss of having nothing to trouble them2 and to renounce society with the same object is the wisest thing a man can do4 ,bernardin de ,saint ,pierre has the very excellent and pertinent remark that to be sparing in regard to food is a means of health2 in regard to society1 a means of tranquillity--la dite des ailmens nous rend la sant du corps1 et celle des hommes la tranquillit de l'me4 ,to be soon on friendly1 or even affectionate1 terms with solitude is like winning a gold mine2 but this is not something which everybody can do4 ,the prime reason for social intercourse is mutual need2 and as soon as that is satisfied1 boredom drives people together once more4 ,if it were not for these two reasons1 a man would probably elect to remain alone2 if only because solitude is the sole condition of life which gives full play to that feeling of exclusive importance which every man has in his own eyes1--as if he were the only person in the world6 a feeling which1 in the throng and press of real life1 soon shrivels up to nothing1 getting1 at every step1 a painful dmenti4 ,from this point of view it may be said that solitude is the original and natural state of man1 where1 like another ,adam1 he is as happy as his nature will allow4 ,but still1 had ,adam no father or mother8 ,there is another sense in which solitude is not the natural state2 for1 at his entrance into the world1 a man finds himself with parents1 brothers1 sisters1 that is to say1 in society1 and not alone4 ,accordingly it cannot be said that the love of solitude is an original characteristic of human nature2 it is rather the result of experience and reflection1 and these in their turn depend upon the development of intellectual power1 and increase with the years4 ,speaking generally1 sociability stands in inverse ratio with age4 ,a little child raises a piteous cry of fright if it is left alone for only a few minutes2 and later on1 to be shut up by itself is a great punishment4 ,young people soon get on very friendly terms with one another2 it is only the few among them of any nobility of mind who are glad now and then to be alone2--but to spend the whole day thus would be disagreeable4 ,a grown-up man can easily do it2 it is little trouble to him to be much alone1 and it becomes less and less trouble as he advances in years4 ,an old man who has outlived all his friends1 and is either indifferent or dead to the pleasures of life1 is in his proper element in solitude2 and in individual cases the special tendency to retirement and seclusion will always be in direct proportion to intellectual capacity4 ,for this tendency is not1 as ,i have said1 a purely natural one2 it does not come into existence as a direct need of human nature2 it is rather the effect of the experience we go through1 the product of reflection upon what our needs really are2 proceeding1 more especially1 from the insight we attain into the wretched stuff of which most people are made1 whether you look at their morals or their intellects4 ,the worst of it all is that1 in the individual1 moral and intellectual shortcomings are closely connected and play into each other's hands1 so that all manner of disagreeable results are obtained1 which make intercourse with most people not only unpleasant but intolerable4 ,hence1 though the world contains many things which are thoroughly bad1 the worst thing in it is society4 ,even ,voltaire1 that sociable ,frenchman1 was obliged to admit that there are everywhere crowds of people not worth talking to3 la terre est couverte de gens qui ne mritent pas qu'on leur parle4 ,and ,petrarch gives a similar reason for wishing to be alone--that tender spirit6 so strong and constant in his love of seclusion4 ,the streams1 the plains and woods know well1 he says1 how he has tried to escape the perverse and stupid people who have missed the way to heaven3-- ,cercato ho sempre solitaria vita 7,le rive il sanno1 e le campagne e i boschi7 ,per fuggir quest' ingegni storti e loschi ,che la strada del ciel' hanno smarrita4 ,he pursues the same strain in that delightful book of his1 ,de,vita ,solitaria1 which seems to have given ,zimmerman the idea of his celebrated work on ,solitude4 ,it is the secondary and indirect character of the love of seclusion to which ,chamfort alludes in the following passage1 couched in his sarcastic vein3 ,on dit quelquefois d'un homme qui vit seul1 il n'aime pas la socit4 ,c'est souvent comme si on disait d'un homme qu'il n'aime pas la promenade1 sous le pretexte qu'il ne se promne pas volontiers le soir dans le fort de ,bondy4 ,you will find a similar sentiment expressed by the ,persian poet ,sadi1 in his ,garden of ,roses4 ,since that time1 he says1 we have taken leave of society1 preferring the path of seclusion2 for there is safety in solitude4 ,angelus ,silesius1#a a very gentle and ,christian writer1 confesses to the same feeling1 in his own mythical language4 ,herod1 he says1 is the common enemy2 and when1 as with ,joseph1 ,god warns us of danger1 we fly from the world to solitude1 from ,bethlehem to ,egypt2 or else suffering and death await us6-- ,herodes ist ein ,feind2 der ,joseph der ,verstand1 ,dem machte ,gott die ,gefahr im ,traum 7in ,geist7 bekannt2 ,die ,welt ist ,bethlehem1 ,aegypten ,einsamkeit1 ,fleuch1 meine ,seele6 fleuch1 sonst stirbest du vor ,leid4 ,footnote #a3 ,translator's ,note4 ,angelus ,silesius1 pseudonym for ,johannes ,scheffler1 a physician and mystic poet of the seventeenth century 7#afbd-gg74 ,giordano ,bruno also declares himself a friend of seclusion4 ,tanti uomini1 he says1 che in terra hanno voluto gustare vita celeste1 dissero con una voce1 ecce elongavi fugiens et mansi in solitudine--those who in this world have desired a foretaste of the divine life1 have always proclaimed with one voice3 ,lo6 then would ,i wander far off2 ,i would lodge in the wilderness4#a ,footnote #a3 ,psalms1 lv4 #g4 ,and in the work from which ,i have already quoted1 ,sadi says of himself3 ,in disgust with my friends at ,damascus1 ,i withdrew into the desert about ,jerusalem1 to seek the society of the beasts of the field4 ,in short1 the same thing has been said by all whom ,prometheus has formed out of better clay4 ,what pleasure could they find in the company of people with whom their only common ground is just what is lowest and least noble in their own nature--the part of them that is commonplace1 trivial and vulgar8 ,what do they want with people who cannot rise to a higher level1 and for whom nothing remains but to drag others down to theirs8 for this is what they aim at4 ,it is an aristocratic feeling that is at the bottom of this propensity to seclusion and solitude4 ,rascals are always sociable--more's the pity6 and the chief sign that a man has any nobility in his character is the little pleasure he takes in others' company4 ,he prefers solitude more and more1 and1 in course of time1 comes to see that1 with few exceptions1 the world offers no choice beyond solitude on one side and vulgarity on the other4 ,this may sound a hard thing to say2 but even ,angelus ,silesius1 with all his ,christian feelings of gentleness and love1 was obliged to admit the truth of it4 ,however painful solitude may be1 he says1 be careful not to be vulgar2 for then you may find a desert everywhere3-- ,die ,einsamkeit ist noth3 doch sei nur nicht gemein1 ,so kannst du berall in einer ,wste sein4 ,it is natural for great minds--the true teachers of humanity--to care little about the constant company of others2 just as little as the schoolmaster cares for joining in the gambols of the noisy crowd of boys which surround him4 ,the mission of these great minds is to guide mankind over the sea of error to the haven of truth--to draw it forth from the dark abysses of a barbarous vulgarity up into the light of culture and refinement4 ,men of great intellect live in the world without really belonging to it2 and so1 from their earliest years1 they feel that there is a perceptible difference between them and other people4 ,but it is only gradually1 with the lapse of years1 that they come to a clear understanding of their position4 ,their intellectual isolation is then reinforced by actual seclusion in their manner of life2 they let no one approach who is not in some degree emancipated from the prevailing vulgarity4 ,from what has been said it is obvious that the love of solitude is not a direct1 original impulse in human nature1 but rather something secondary and of gradual growth4 ,it is the more distinguishing feature of nobler minds1 developed not without some conquest of natural desires1 and now and then in actual opposition to the promptings of ,mephistopheles--bidding you exchange a morose and soul-destroying solitude for life amongst men1 for society2 even the worst1 he says1 will give a sense of human fellowship3-- ,hr' auf mit deinem ,gram zu spielen1 ,der1 wie ein ,geier1 dir am ,leben frisst3 ,die schlechteste ,gesellschaft lsst dich fhlen ,dass du ein ,mensch mit ,menschen bist4#a ,footnote #a3 ,goethe's ,faust1 ,part ,i41 #abha-e4 ,to be alone is the fate of all great minds--a fate deplored at times1 but still always chosen as the less grievous of two evils4 ,as the years increase1 it always becomes easier to say1 ,dare to be wise--sapere aude4 ,and after sixty1 the inclination to be alone grows into a kind of real1 natural instinct2 for at that age everything combines in favor of it4 ,the strongest impulse--the love of woman's society--has little or no effect2 it is the sexless condition of old age which lays the foundation of a certain self-sufficiency1 and that gradually absorbs all desire for others' company4 ,a thousand illusions and follies are overcome2 the active years of life are in most cases gone2 a man has no more expectations or plans or intentions4 ,the generation to which he belonged has passed away1 and a new race has sprung up which looks upon him as essentially outside its sphere of activity4 ,and then the years pass more quickly as we become older1 and we want to devote our remaining time to the intellectual rather than to the practical side of life4 ,for1 provided that the mind retains its faculties1 the amount of knowledge and experience we have acquired1 together with the facility we have gained in the use of our powers1 makes it then more than ever easy and interesting to us to pursue the study of any subject4 ,a thousand things become clear which were formerly enveloped in obscurity1 and results are obtained which give a feeling of difficulties overcome4 ,from long experience of men1 we cease to expect much from them2 we find that1 on the whole1 people do not gain by a nearer acquaintance2 and that--apart from a few rare and fortunate exceptions--we have come across none but defective specimens of human nature which it is advisable to leave in peace4 ,we are no more subject to the ordinary illusions of life2 and as1 in individual instances1 we soon see what a man is made of1 we seldom feel any inclination to come into closer relations with him4 ,finally1 isolation--our own society--has become a habit1 as it were a second nature to us1 more especially if we have been on friendly terms with it from our youth up4 ,the love of solitude which was formerly indulged only at the expense of our desire for society1 has now come to be the simple quality of our natural disposition--the element proper to our life1 as water to a fish4 ,this is why anyone who possesses a unique individuality--unlike others and therefore necessarily isolated--feels that1 as he becomes older1 his position is no longer so burdensome as when he was young4 ,for1 as a matter of fact1 this very genuine privilege of old age is one which can be enjoyed only if a man is possessed of a certain amount of intellect2 it will be appreciated most of all where there is real mental power2 but in some degree by every one4 ,it is only people of very barren and vulgar nature who will be just as sociable in their old age as they were in their youth4 ,but then they become troublesome to a society to which they are no longer suited1 and1 at most1 manage to be tolerated2 whereas1 they were formerly in great request4 ,there is another aspect of this inverse proportion between age and sociability--the way in which it conduces to education4 ,the younger that people are1 the more in every respect they have to learn2 and it is just in youth that ,nature provides a system of mutual education1 so that mere intercourse with others1 at that time of life1 carries instruction with it4 ,human society1 from this point of view1 resembles a huge academy of learning1 on the ,bell and ,lancaster system1 opposed to the system of education by means of books and schools1 as something artificial and contrary to the institutions of ,nature4 ,it is therefore a very suitable arrangement that1 in his young days1 a man should be a very diligent student at the place of learning provided by ,nature herself4 ,but there is nothing in life which has not some drawback--nihil est ab omni parte beatum1 as ,horace says2 or1 in the words of an ,indian proverb1 no lotus without a stalk4 ,seclusion1 which has so many advantages1 has also its little annoyances and drawbacks1 which are small1 however1 in comparison with those of society2 hence anyone who is worth much in himself will get on better without other people than with them4 ,but amongst the disadvantages of seclusion there is one which is not so easy to see as the rest4 ,it is this3 when people remain indoors all day1 they become physically very sensitive to atmospheric changes1 so that every little draught is enough to make them ill2 so with our temper2 a long course of seclusion makes it so sensitive that the most trivial incidents1 words1 or even looks1 are sufficient to disturb or to vex and offend us--little things which are unnoticed by those who live in the turmoil of life4 ,when you find human society disagreeable and feel yourself justified in flying to solitude1 you can be so constituted as to be unable to bear the depression of it for any length of time1 which will probably be the case if you are young4 ,let me advise you1 then1 to form the habit of taking some of your solitude with you into society1 to learn to be to some extent alone even though you are in company2 not to say at once what you think1 and1 on the other hand1 not to attach too precise a meaning to what others say2 rather1 not to expect much of them1 either morally or intellectually1 and to strengthen yourself in the feeling of indifference to their opinion1 which is the surest way of always practicing a praiseworthy toleration4 ,if you do that1 you will not live so much with other people1 though you may appear to move amongst them3 your relation to them will be of a purely objective character4 ,this precaution will keep you from too close contact with society1 and therefore secure you against being contaminated or even outraged by it4#a ,society is in this respect like a fire--the wise man warming himself at a proper distance from it2 not coming too close1 like the fool1 who1 on getting scorched1 runs away and shivers in solitude1 loud in his complaint that the fire burns4 ,footnote #a3 ,this restricted1 or1 as it were1 entrenched kind of sociability has been dramatically illustrated in a play--well worth reading--of ,moratin's1 entitled ,el ,caf o sea la ,comedia ,nuova 7,the ,cafe or the ,new ,comedy71 chiefly by one of the characters1 ,don ,pedro and especially in the second and third scenes of the first act4 ,,section #aj4 ,envy is natural to man2 and still1 it is at once a vice and a source of misery4#a ,we should treat it as the enemy of our happiness1 and stifle it like an evil thought4 ,this is the advice given by ,seneca2 as he well puts it1 we shall be pleased with what we have1 if we avoid the self-torture of comparing our own lot with some other and happier one--nostra nos sine comparatione delectent2 nunquam erit felix quem torquebit felicior4#b ,and again1 quum adspexeris quot te antecedent1 cogita quot sequantur#c--;if a great many people appear to be better off than yourself1 think how many there are in a worse position4 ,it is a fact that if real calamity comes upon us1 the most effective consolation--though it springs from the same source as envy--is just the thought of greater misfortunes than ours2 and the next best is the society of those who are in the same luck as we--the partners of our sorrows4 ,footnote #a3 ,envy shows how unhappy people are2 and their constant attention to what others do and leave undone1 how much they are bored4 ,footnote #b3 ,de ,ira3 iii41 #cj4 ,footnote #c3 ,epist4 xv4 ,so much for the envy which we may feel towards others4 ,as regards the envy which we may excite in them1 it should always be remembered that no form of hatred is so implacable as the hatred that comes from envy2 and therefore we should always carefully refrain from doing anything to rouse it2 nay1 as with many another form of vice1 it is better altogether to renounce any pleasure there may be in it1 because of the serious nature of its consequences4 ,aristocracies are of three kinds3 7#a7 of birth and rank2 7#b7 of wealth2 and 7#c7 of intellect4 ,the last is really the most distinguished of the three1 and its claim to occupy the first position comes to be recognized1 if it is only allowed time to work4 ,so eminent a king as ,frederick the ,great admitted it--les mes privilegies rangent l'gal des souverains1 as he said to his chamberlain1 when the latter expressed his surprise that ,voltaire should have a seat at the table reserved for kings and princes1 whilst ministers and generals were relegated to the chamberlain's4 ,every one of these aristocracies is surrounded by a host of envious persons4 ,if you belong to one of them1 they will be secretly embittered against you2 and unless they are restrained by fear1 they will always be anxious to let you understand that you are no better than they4 ,it is by their anxiety to let you know this1 that they betray how greatly they are conscious that the opposite is the truth4 ,the line of conduct to be pursued if you are exposed to envy1 is to keep the envious persons at a distance1 and1 as far as possible1 avoid all contact with them1 so that there may be a wide gulf fixed between you and them2 if this cannot be done1 to bear their attacks with the greatest composure4 ,in the latter case1 the very thing that provokes the attack will also neutralize it4 ,this is what appears to be generally done4 ,the members of one of these aristocracies usually get on very well with those of another1 and there is no call for envy between them1 because their several privileges effect an equipoise4 ,,section #aa4 ,give mature and repeated consideration to any plan before you proceed to carry it out2 and even after you have thoroughly turned it over in your mind1 make some concession to the incompetency of human judgment2 for it may always happen that circumstances which cannot be investigated or foreseen1 will come in and upset the whole of your calculation4 ,this is a reflection that will always influence the negative side of the balance--a kind of warning to refrain from unnecessary action in matters of importance--quieta non movere4 ,but having once made up your mind and begun your work1 you must let it run its course and abide the result--not worry yourself by fresh reflections on what is already accomplished1 or by a renewal of your scruples on the score of possible danger3 free your mind from the subject altogether1 and refuse to go into it again1 secure in the thought that you gave it mature attention at the proper time4 ,this is the same advice as is given by an ,italian proverb--legala bene e poi lascia la andare--which ,goethe has translated thus3 ,see well to your girths1 and then ride on boldly4#a ,footnote #a3 ,it may be observed1 in passing1 that a great many of the maxims which ,goethe puts under the head of ,proverbial1 are translations from the ,italian4 ,and if1 notwithstanding that1 you fail1 it is because human affairs are the sport of chance and error4 ,socrates1 the wisest of men1 needed the warning voice of his good genius1 or ,greek3 daimonion1 to enable him to do what was right in regard to his own personal affairs1 or at any rate1 to avoid mistakes2 which argues that the human intellect is incompetent for the purpose4 ,there is a saying--which is reported to have originated with one of the ,popes--that when misfortune happens to us1 the blame of it1 at least in some degree1 attaches to ourselves4 ,if this is not true absolutely and in every instance1 it is certainly true in the great majority of cases4 ,it even looks as if this truth had a great deal to do with the effort people make as far as possible to conceal their misfortunes1 and to put the best face they can upon them1 for fear lest their misfortunes may show how much they are to blame4 ,,section #ab4 ,in the case of a misfortune which has already happened and therefore cannot be altered1 you should not allow yourself to think that it might have been otherwise2 still less1 that it might have been avoided by such and such means2 for reflections of this kind will only add to your distress and make it intolerable1 so that you will become a tormentor to yourself--,greek3 heautontimoroumeaeos4 ,it is better to follow the example of ,king ,david2 who1 as long as his son lay on the bed of sickness1 assailed ,jehovah with unceasing supplications and entreaties for his recovery2 but when he was dead1 snapped his fingers and thought no more of it4 ,if you are not light-hearted enough for that1 you can take refuge in fatalism1 and have the great truth revealed to you that everything which happens is the result of necessity1 and therefore inevitable4 ,however good this advice may be1 it is one-sided and partial4 ,in relieving and quieting us for the moment1 it is no doubt effective enough2 but when our misfortunes have resulted--as is usually the case--from our own carelessness or folly1 or1 at any rate1 partly by our own fault1 it is a good thing to consider how they might have been avoided1 and to consider it often in spite of its being a tender subject--a salutary form of self-discipline1 which will make us wiser and better men for the future4 ,if we have made obvious mistakes1 we should not try1 as we generally do1 to gloss them over1 or to find something to excuse or extenuate them2 we should admit to ourselves that we have committed faults1 and open our eyes wide to all their enormity1 in order that we may firmly resolve to avoid them in time to come4 ,to be sure1 that means a great deal of self-inflicted pain1 in the shape of discontent1 but it should be remembered that to spare the rod is to spoil the child--,greek3 ho mae dareis anthropos ou paideuetai4#a ,footnote #a3 ,menander4 ,monost3 #dbb4 ,,section #ac4 ,in all matters affecting our weal or woe1 we should be careful not to let our imagination run away with us1 and build no castles in the air4 ,in the first place1 they are expensive to build1 because we have to pull them down again immediately1 and that is a source of grief4 ,we should be still more on our guard against distressing our hearts by depicting possible misfortunes4 ,if these were misfortunes of a purely imaginary kind1 or very remote and unlikely1 we should at once see1 on awaking from our dream1 that the whole thing was mere illusion2 we should rejoice all the more in a reality better than our dreams1 or at most1 be warned against misfortunes which1 though very remote1 were still possible4 ,these1 however1 are not the sort of playthings in which imagination delights2 it is only in idle hours that we build castles in the air1 and they are always of a pleasing description4 ,the matter which goes to form gloomy dreams are mischances which to some extent really threaten us1 though it be from some distance2 imagination makes us look larger and nearer and more terrible than they are in reality4 ,this is a kind of dream which cannot be so readily shaken off on awaking as a pleasant one2 for a pleasant dream is soon dispelled by reality1 leaving1 at most1 a feeble hope lying in the lap of possibility4 ,once we have abandoned ourselves to a fit of the blues1 visions are conjured up which do not so easily vanish again2 for it is always just possible that the visions may be realized4 ,but we are not always able to estimate the exact degree of possibility3 possibility may easily pass into probability2 and thus we deliver ourselves up to torture4 ,therefore we should be careful not to be over-anxious on any matter affecting our weal or our woe1 not to carry our anxiety to unreasonable or injudicious limits2 but coolly and dispassionately to deliberate upon the matter1 as though it were an abstract question which did not touch us in particular4 ,we should give no play to imagination here2 for imagination is not judgment--it only conjures up visions1 inducing an unprofitable and often very painful mood4 ,the rule on which ,i am here insisting should be most carefully observed towards evening4 ,for as darkness makes us timid and apt to see terrifying shapes everywhere1 there is something similar in the effect of indistinct thought2 and uncertainty always brings with it a sense of danger4 ,hence1 towards evening1 when our powers of thought and judgment are relaxed1--at the hour1 as it were1 of subjective darkness1--the intellect becomes tired1 easily confused1 and unable to get at the bottom of things2 and if1 in that state1 we meditate on matters of personal interest to ourselves1 they soon assume a dangerous and terrifying aspect4 ,this is mostly the case at night1 when we are in bed2 for then the mind is fully relaxed1 and the power of judgment quite unequal to its duties2 but imagination is still awake4 ,night gives a black look to everything1 whatever it may be4 ,this is why our thoughts1 just before we go to sleep1 or as we lie awake through the hours of the night1 are usually such confusions and perversions of facts as dreams themselves2 and when our thoughts at that time are concentrated upon our own concerns1 they are generally as black and monstrous as possible4 ,in the morning all such nightmares vanish like dreams3 as the ,spanish proverb has it1 noche tinta1 bianco el dia--the night is colored1 the day is white4 ,but even towards nightfall1 as soon as the candles are lit1 the mind1 like the eye1 no longer sees things so clearly as by day3 it is a time unsuited to serious meditation1 especially on unpleasant subjects4 ,the morning is the proper time for that--as indeed for all efforts without exception1 whether mental or bodily4 ,for the morning is the youth of the day1 when everything is bright1 fresh1 and easy of attainment2 we feel strong then1 and all our faculties are completely at our disposal4 ,do not shorten the morning by getting up late1 or waste it in unworthy occupations or in talk2 look upon it as the quintessence of life1 as to a certain extent sacred4 ,evening is like old age3 we are languid1 talkative1 silly4 ,each day is a little life3 every waking and rising a little birth1 every fresh morning a little youth1 every going to rest and sleep a little death4 ,but condition of health1 sleep1 nourishment1 temperature1 weather1 surroundings1 and much else that is purely external1 have1 in general1 an important influence upon our mood and therefore upon our thoughts4 ,hence both our view of any matter and our capacity for any work are very much subject to time and place4 ,so it is best to profit by a good mood--for how seldom it comes6-- ,nehmt die gute ,stimmung wahr1 ,denn sie kommt so selten4#a ,footnote #a3 ,goethe4 ,we are not always able to form new ideas about2 our surroundings1 or to command original thoughts3 they come if they will1 and when they will4 ,and so1 too1 we cannot always succeed in completely considering some personal matter at the precise time at which we have determined beforehand to consider it1 and just when we set ourselves to do so4 ,for the peculiar train of thought which is favorable to it may suddenly become active without any special call being made upon it1 and we may then follow it up with keen interest4 ,in this way reflection1 too1 chooses its own time4 ,this reining-in of the imagination which ,i am recommending1 will also forbid us to summon up the memory of the past misfortune1 to paint a dark picture of the injustice or harm that has been done us1 the losses we have sustained1 the insults1 slights and annoyances to which we have been exposed3 for to do that is to rouse into fresh life all those hateful passions long laid asleep--the anger and resentment which disturb and pollute our nature4 ,in an excellent parable1 ,proclus1 the ,neoplatonist1 points out how in every town the mob dwells side by side with those who are rich and distinguished3 so1 too1 in every man1 be he never so noble and dignified1 there is1 in the depth of his nature1 a mob of low and vulgar desires which constitute him an animal4 ,it will not do to let this mob revolt or even so much as peep forth from its hiding-place2 it is hideous of mien1 and its rebel leaders are those flights of imagination which ,i have been describing4 ,the smallest annoyance1 whether it comes from our fellow-men or from the things around us1 may swell up into a monster of dreadful aspect1 putting us at our wits' end--and all because we go on brooding over our troubles and painting them in the most glaring colors and on the largest scale4 ,it is much better to take a very calm and prosaic view of what is disagreeable2 for that is the easiest way of bearing it4 ,if you hold small objects close to your eyes1 you limit your field of vision and shut out the world4 ,and1 in the same way1 the people or the things which stand nearest1 even though they are of the very smallest consequence1 are apt to claim an amount of attention much beyond their due1 occupying us disagreeably1 and leaving no room for serious thoughts and affairs of importance4 ,we ought to work against this tendency4 ,,section #ad4 ,the sight of things which do not belong to us is very apt to raise the thought3 ,ah1 if that were only mine6 making us sensible of our privation4 ,instead of that we should do better by more frequently putting to ourselves the opposite case3 ,ah1 if that were not mine4 ,what ,i mean is that we should sometimes try to look upon our possessions in the light in which they would appear if we had lost them2 whatever they may be1 property1 health1 friends1 a wife or child or someone else we love1 our horse or our dog--it is usually only when we have lost them that we begin to find out their value4 ,but if we come to look at things in the way ,i recommend1 we shall be doubly the gainers2 we shall at once get more pleasure out of them than we did before1 and we shall do everything in our power to prevent the loss of them2 for instance1 by not risking our property1 or angering our friends1 or exposing our wives to temptation1 or being careless about our children's health1 and so on4 ,we often try to banish the gloom and despondency of the present by speculating upon our chances of success in the future2 a process which leads us to invent a great many chimerical hopes4 ,every one of them contains the germ of illusion1 and disappointment is inevitable when our hopes are shattered by the hard facts of life4 ,it is less hurtful to take the chances of misfortune as a theme for speculation2 because1 in doing so1 we provide ourselves at once with measures of precaution against it1 and a pleasant surprise when it fails to make its appearance4 ,is it not a fact that we always feel a marked improvement in our spirits when we begin to get over a period of anxiety8 ,i may go further and say that there is some use in occasionally looking upon terrible misfortunes--such as might happen to us--as though they had actually happened1 for then the trivial reverses which subsequently come in reality1 are much easier to bear4 ,it is a source of consolation to look back upon those great misfortunes which never happened4 ,but in following out this rule1 care must be taken not to neglect what ,i have said in the preceding section4 ,,section #ae4 ,the things which engage our attention--whether they are matters of business or ordinary events--are of such diverse kinds1 that1 if taken quite separately and in no fixed order or relation1 they present a medley of the most glaring contrasts1 with nothing in common1 except that they one and all affect us in particular4 ,there must be a corresponding abruptness in the thoughts and anxieties which these various matters arouse in us1 if our thoughts are to be in keeping with their various subjects4 ,therefore1 in setting about anything1 the first step is to withdraw our attention from everything else3 this will enable us to attend to each matter at its own time1 and to enjoy or put up with it1 quite apart from any thought of our remaining interests4 ,our thoughts must be arranged1 as it were1 in little drawers1 so that we may open one without disturbing any of the others4 ,in this way we can keep the heavy burden of anxiety from weighing upon us so much as to spoil the little pleasures of the present1 or from robbing us of our rest2 otherwise the consideration of one matter will interfere with every other1 and attention to some important business may lead us to neglect many affairs which happen to be of less moment4 ,it is most important for everyone who is capable of higher and nobler thoughts to keep their mind from being so completely engrossed with private affairs and vulgar troubles as to let them take up all his attention and crowd out worthier matter2 for that is1 in a very real sense1 to lose sight of the true end of life--propter vitam vivendi perdere causas4 ,of course for this--as for so much else--self-control is necessary2 without it1 we cannot manage ourselves in the way ,i have described4 ,and self-control may not appear so very difficult1 if we consider that every man has to submit to a great deal of very severe control on the part of his surroundings1 and that without it no form of existence is possible4 ,further1 a little self-control at the right moment may prevent much subsequent compulsion at the hands of others2 just as a very small section of a circle close to the centre may correspond to a part near the circumference a hundred times as large4 ,nothing will protect us from external compulsion so much as the control of ourselves2 and1 as ,seneca says1 to submit yourself to reason is the way to make everything else submit to you--si tibi vis omnia subjicere1 te subjice rationi4 ,self-control1 too1 is something which we have in our own power2 and if the worst comes to the worst1 and it touches us in a very sensitive part1 we can always relax its severity4 ,but other people will pay no regard to our feelings1 if they have to use compulsion1 and we shall be treated without pity or mercy4 ,therefore it will be prudent to anticipate compulsion by self-control4 ,,section #af4 ,we must set limits to our wishes1 curb our desires1 moderate our anger1 always remembering that an individual can attain only an infinitesimal share in anything that is worth having2 and that1 on the other hand1 everyone must incur many of the ills of life2 in a word1 we must bear and forbear--abstinere et sustinere2 and if we fail to observe this rule1 no position of wealth or power will prevent us from feeling wretched4 ,this is what ,horace means when he recommends us to study carefully and inquire diligently what will best promote a tranquil life--not to be always agitated by fruitless desires and fears and hopes for things1 which1 after all1 are not worth very much3-- ,inter cuncta leges et percontabere doctos ,qua ratione queas traducere leniter aevum2 ,ne te semper inops agitet vexetque cupido1 ,ne pavor1 et rerum mediocriter utilium spes4#a ,footnote #a3 ,epist4 ,i4 xviii4 #ig4 ,,section #ag4 ,life consists in movement1 says ,aristotle2 and he is obviously right4 ,we exist1 physically1 because our organism is the seat of constant motion2 and if we are to exist intellectually1 it can only be by means of continual occupation--no matter with what so long as it is some form of practical or mental activity4 ,you may see that this is so by the way in which people who have no work or nothing to think about1 immediately begin to beat the devil's tattoo with their knuckles or a stick or anything that comes handy4 ,the truth is1 that our nature is essentially restless in its character3 we very soon get tired of having nothing to do2 it is intolerable boredom4 ,this impulse to activity should be regulated1 and some sort of method introduced into it1 which of itself will enhance the satisfaction we obtain4 ,activity6--doing something1 if possible creating something1 at any rate learning something--how fortunate it is that men cannot exist without that6 ,a man wants to use his strength1 to see1 if he can1 what effect it will produce2 and he will get the most complete satisfaction of this desire if he can make or construct something--be it a book or a basket4 ,there is a direct pleasure in seeing work grow under one's hands day by day1 until at last it is finished4 ,this is the pleasure attaching to a work of art or a manuscript1 or even mere manual labor2 and1 of course1 the higher the work1 the greater pleasure it will give4 ,from this point of view1 those are happiest of all who are conscious of the power to produce great works animated by some significant purpose3 it gives a higher kind of interest--a sort of rare flavor--to the whole of their life1 which1 by its absence from the life of the ordinary man1 makes it1 in comparison1 something very insipid4 ,for richly endowed natures1 life and the world have a special interest beyond the mere everyday personal interest which so many others share2 and something higher than that--a formal interest4 ,it is from life and the world that they get the material for their works2 and as soon as they are freed from the pressure of personal needs1 it is to the diligent collection of material that they devote their whole existence4 ,so with their intellect3 it is to some extent of a two-fold character1 and devoted partly to the ordinary affairs of every day--those matters of will which are common to them and the rest of mankind1 and partly to their peculiar work--the pure and objective contemplation of existence4 ,and while1 on the stage of the world1 most men play their little part and then pass away1 the genius lives a double life1 at once an actor and a spectator4 ,let everyone1 then1 do something1 according to the measure of his capacities4 ,to have no regular work1 no set sphere of activity--what a miserable thing it is6 ,how often long travels undertaken for pleasure make a man downright unhappy2 because the absence of anything that can be called occupation forces him1 as it were1 out of his right element4 ,effort1 struggles with difficulties6 that is as natural to a man as grubbing in the ground is to a mole4 ,to have all his wants satisfied is something intolerable--the feeling of stagnation which comes from pleasures that last too long4 ,to overcome difficulties is to experience the full delight of existence1 no matter where the obstacles are encountered2 whether in the affairs of life1 in commerce or business2 or in mental effort--the spirit of inquiry that tries to master its subject4 ,there is always something pleasurable in the struggle and the victory4 ,and if a man has no opportunity to excite himself1 he will do what he can to create one1 and according to his individual bent1 he will hunt or play ,cup and ,ball3 or led on by this unsuspected element in his nature1 he will pick a quarrel with some one1 or hatch a plot or intrigue1 or take to swindling and rascally courses generally--all to put an end to a state of repose which is intolerable4 ,as ,i have remarked1 difficilis in otio quies--it is difficult to keep quiet if you have nothing to do4 ,,section #ah4 ,a man should avoid being led on by the phantoms of his imagination4 ,this is not the same thing as to submit to the guidance of ideas clearly thought out3 and yet these are rules of life which most people pervert4 ,if you examine closely into the circumstances which1 in any deliberation1 ultimately turn the scale in favor of some particular course1 you will generally find that the decision is influenced1 not by any clear arrangement of ideas leading to a formal judgment1 but by some fanciful picture which seems to stand for one of the alternatives in question4 ,in one of ,voltaire's or ,diderot's romances1--,i forget the precise reference1--the hero1 standing like a young ,hercules at the parting of ways1 can see no other representation of ,virtue than his old tutor holding a snuff-box in his left hand1 from which he takes a pinch and moralizes2 whilst ,vice appears in the shape of his mother's chambermaid4 ,it is in youth1 more especially1 that the goal of our efforts comes to be a fanciful picture of happiness1 which continues to hover before our eyes sometimes for half and even for the whole of our life--a sort of mocking spirit2 for when we think our dream is to be realized1 the picture fades away1 leaving us the knowledge that nothing of what it promised is actually accomplished4 ,how often this is so with the visions of domesticity--the detailed picture of what our home will be like2 or1 of life among our fellow-citizens or in society2 or1 again1 of living in the country--the kind of house we shall have1 its surroundings1 the marks of honor and respect that will be paid to us1 and so on1--whatever our hobby may be2 chaque fou a sa marotte4 ,it is often the same1 too1 with our dreams about one we love4 ,and this is all quite natural2 for the visions we conjure up affect us directly1 as though they were real objects2 and so they exercise a more immediate influence upon our will than an abstract idea1 which gives merely a vague1 general outline1 devoid of details2 and the details are just the real part of it4 ,we can be only indirectly affected by an abstract idea1 and yet it is the abstract idea alone which will do as much as it promises2 and it is the function of education to teach us to put our trust in it4 ,of course the abstract idea must be occasionally explained--paraphrased1 as it were--by the aid of pictures2 but discreetly1 cum grano salis4 ,,section #ai4 ,the preceding rule may be taken as a special case of the more general maxim1 that a man should never let himself be mastered by the impressions of the moment1 or indeed by outward appearances at all1 which are incomparably more powerful in their effects than the mere play of thought or a train of ideas2 not because these momentary impressions are rich in virtue of the data they supply1--it is often just the contrary1--but because they are something palpable to the senses and direct in their working2 they forcibly invade our mind1 disturbing our repose and shattering our resolutions4 ,it is easy to understand that the thing which lies before our very eyes will produce the whole of its effect at once1 but that time and leisure are necessary for the working of thought and the appreciation of argument1 as it is impossible to think of everything at one and the same moment4 ,this is why we are so allured by pleasure1 in spite of all our determination to resist it2 or so much annoyed by a criticism1 even though we know that its author it totally incompetent to judge2 or so irritated by an insult1 though it comes from some very contemptible quarter4 ,in the same way1 to mention no other instances1 ten reasons for thinking that there is no danger may be outweighed by one mistaken notion that it is actually at hand4 ,all this shows the radical unreason of human nature4 ,women frequently succumb altogether to this predominating influence of present impressions1 and there are few men so overweighted with reason as to escape suffering from a similar cause4 ,if it is impossible to resist the effects of some external influence by the mere play of thought1 the best thing to do is to neutralize it by some contrary influence2 for example1 the effect of an insult may be overcome by seeking the society of those who have a good opinion of us2 and the unpleasant sensation of imminent danger may be avoided by fixing our attention on the means of warding it off4 ,leibnitz#a tells of an ,italian who managed to bear up under the tortures of the rack by never for a moment ceasing to think of the gallows which would have awaited him1 had he revealed his secret2 he kept on crying out3 ,i see it6 ,i see it6--afterwards explaining that this was part of his plan4 ,footnote #a3 ,nouveaux ,essais4 ,liv4 ,i4 ch4 #b4 ,sec4 #aa4 ,it is from some such reason as this1 that we find it so difficult to stand alone in a matter of opinion1--not to be made irresolute by the fact that everyone else disagrees with us and acts accordingly1 even though we are quite sure that they are in the wrong4 ,take the case of a fugitive king who is trying to avoid capture2 how much consolation he must find in the ceremonious and submissive attitude of a faithful follower1 exhibited secretly so as not to betray his master's strict incognito2 it must be almost necessary to prevent him doubting his own existence4 ,,section #bj4 ,in the first part of this work ,i have insisted upon the great value of health as the chief and most important element in happiness4 ,let me emphasize and confirm what ,i have there said by giving a few general rules as to its preservation4 ,the way to harden the body is to impose a great deal of labor and effort upon it in the days of good health1--to exercise it1 both as a whole and in its several parts1 and to habituate it to withstand all kinds of noxious influences4 ,but on the appearance of an illness or disorder1 either in the body as a whole or in many of its parts1 a contrary course should be taken1 and every means used to nurse the body1 or the part of it which is affected1 and to spare it any effort2 for what is ailing and debilitated cannot be hardened4 ,the muscles may be strengthened by a vigorous use of them2 but not so the nerves2 they are weakened by it4 ,therefore1 while exercising the muscles in every way that is suitable1 care should be taken to spare the nerves as much as possible4 ,the eyes1 for instance1 should be protected from too strong a light1--especially when it is reflected light1--from any straining of them in the dark1 or from the long-continued examination of minute objects2 and the ears from too loud sounds4 ,above all1 the brain should never be forced1 or used too much1 or at the wrong time2 let it have a rest during digestion2 for then the same vital energy which forms thoughts in the brain has a great deal of work to do elsewhere1--,i mean in the digestive organs1 where it prepares chyme and chyle4 ,for similar reasons1 the brain should never be used during1 or immediately after1 violent muscular exercise4 ,for the motor nerves are in this respect on a par with the sensory nerves2 the pain felt when a limb is wounded has its seat in the brain2 and1 in the same way1 it is not really our legs and arms which work and move1--it is the brain1 or1 more strictly1 that part of it which1 through the medium of the spine1 excites the nerves in the limbs and sets them in motion4 ,accordingly1 when our arms and legs feel tired1 the true seat of this feeling is in the brain4 ,this is why it is only in connection with those muscles which are set in motion consciously and voluntarily1--in other words1 depend for their action upon the brain1--that any feeling of fatigue can arise2 this is not the case with those muscles which work involuntarily1 like the heart4 ,it is obvious1 then1 that injury is done to the brain if violent muscular exercise and intellectual exertion are forced upon it at the same moment1 or at very short intervals4 ,what ,i say stands in no contradiction with the fact that at the beginning of a walk1 or at any period of a short stroll1 there often comes a feeling of enhanced intellectual vigor4 ,the parts of the brain that come into play have had no time to become tired2 and besides1 slight muscular exercise conduces to activity of the respiratory organs1 and causes a purer and more oxydated supply of arterial blood to mount to the brain4 ,it is most important to allow the brain the full measure of sleep which is required to restore it2 for sleep is to a man's whole nature what winding up is to a clock4#a ,this measure will vary directly with the development and activity of the brain2 to overstep the measure is mere waste of time1 because if that is done1 sleep gains only so much in length as it loses in depth4#b ,footnote #a3 ,of4 ,welt als ,wille und ,vorstellung1 #dth ,edition4 ,bk4 ,,ii4 pp4 #bcf-dj4 ,footnote3 #b3 ,cf4 loc3 cit3 p4 #bge4 ,sleep is a morsel of death borrowed to keep up and renew the part of life which is exhausted by the day--le sommeil est un emprunt fait la mort4 ,or it might be said that sleep is the interest we have to pay on the capital which is called in at death2 and the higher the rate of interest and the more regularly it is paid1 the further the date of redemption is postponed4 ,it should be clearly understood that thought is nothing but the organic function of the brain2 and it has to obey the same laws in regard to exertion and repose as any other organic function4 ,the brain can be ruined by overstrain1 just like the eyes4 ,as the function of the stomach is to digest1 so it is that of the brain to think4 ,the notion of a soul1--as something elementary and immaterial1 merely lodging in the brain and needing nothing at all for the performance of its essential function1 which consists in always and unweariedly thinking--has undoubtedly driven many people to foolish practices1 leading to a deadening of the intellectual powers2 ,frederick the ,great1 even1 once tried to form the habit of doing without sleep altogether4 ,it would be well if professors of philosophy refrained from giving currency to a notion which is attended by practical results of a pernicious character2 but then this is just what professorial philosophy does1 in its old-womanish endeavor to keep on good terms with the catechism4 ,a man should accustom himself to view his intellectual capacities in no other light than that of physiological functions1 and to manage them accordingly--nursing or exercising them as the case may be2 remembering that every kind of physical suffering1 malady or disorder1 in whatever part of the body it occurs1 has its effect upon the mind4 ,the best advice that ,i know on this subject is given by ,cabanis in his ,rapports du physique et du moral de l'homme4#a ,footnote #a3 ,translator's ,note4 ,the work to which ,schopenhauer here refers is a series of essays by ,cabanis1 a ,french philosopher 7#ageg-ahjh71 treating of mental and moral phenomena on a physiological basis4 ,in his later days1 ,cabanis completely abandoned his materialistic standpoint4 ,through neglect of this rule1 many men of genius and great scholars have become weak-minded and childish1 or even gone quite mad1 as they grew old4 ,to take no other instances1 there can be no doubt that the celebrated ,english poets of the early part of this century1 ,scott1 ,wordsworth1 ,southey1 became intellectually dull and incapable towards the end of their days1 nay1 soon after passing their sixtieth year2 and that their imbecility can be traced to the fact that1 at that period of life1 they were all led on8 by the promise of high pay1 to treat literature as a trade and to write for money4 ,this seduced them into an unnatural abuse of their intellectual powers2 and a man who puts his ,pegasus into harness1 and urges on his ,muse with the whip1 will have to pay a penalty similar to that which is exacted by the abuse of other kinds of power4 ,and even in the case of ,kant1 ,i suspect that the second childhood of his last four years was due to overwork in later life1 and after he had succeeded in becoming a famous man4 ,every month of the year has its own peculiar and direct influence upon health and bodily condition generally2 nay1 even upon the state of the mind4 ,it is an influence dependent upon the weather4 ,,chapter ,,iii4 ,,our ,,relation ,,to ,,others4--,,section #ba4 ,in making his way through life1 a man will find it useful to be ready and able to do two things3 to look ahead and to overlook3 the one will protect him from loss and injury1 the other from disputes and squabbles4 ,no one who has to live amongst men should absolutely discard any person who has his due place in the order of nature1 even though he is very wicked or contemptible or ridiculous4 ,he must accept him as an unalterable fact--unalterable1 because the necessary outcome of an eternal1 fundamental principle2 and in bad cases he should remember the words of ,mephistopheles3 es muss auch solche ,kuze geben#a--there must be fools and rogues in the world4 ,if he acts otherwise1 he will be committing an injustice1 and giving a challenge of life and death to the man he discards4 ,no one can alter his own peculiar individuality1 his moral character1 his intellectual capacity1 his temperament or physique2 and if we go so far as to condemn a man from every point of view1 there will be nothing left him but to engage us in deadly conflict2 for we are practically allowing him the right to exist only on condition that he becomes another man--which is impossible2 his nature forbids it4 ,footnote #a3 ,goethe's ,faust1 ,part ,i4 ,so if you have to live amongst men1 you must allow everyone the right to exist in accordance with the character he has1 whatever it turns out to be3 and all you should strive to do is to make use of this character in such a way as its kind and nature permit1 rather than to hope for any alteration in it1 or to condemn it off-hand for what it is4 ,this is the true sense of the maxim--,live and let live4 ,that1 however1 is a task which is difficult in proportion as it is right2 and he is a happy man who can once for all avoid having to do with a great many of his fellow creatures4 ,the art of putting up with people may be learned by practicing patience on inanimate objects1 which1 in virtue of some mechanical or general physical necessity1 oppose a stubborn resistance to our freedom of action--a form of patience which is required every day4 ,the patience thus gained may be applied to our dealings with men1 by accustoming ourselves to regard their opposition1 wherever we encounter it1 as the inevitable outcome of their nature1 which sets itself up against us in virtue of the same rigid law of necessity as governs the resistance of inanimate objects4 ,to become indignant at their conduct is as foolish as to be angry with a stone because it rolls into your path4 ,and with many people the wisest thing you can do1 is to resolve to make use of those whom you cannot alter4 ,,section #bb4 ,it is astonishing how easily and how quickly similarity1 or difference of mind and disposition1 makes itself felt between one man and another as soon as they begin to talk3 every little trifle shows it4 ,when two people of totally different natures are conversing1 almost everything said by the one will1 in a greater or less degree1 displease the other1 and in many cases produce positive annoyance2 even though the conversation turn upon the most out-of-the-way subject1 or one in which neither of the parties has any real interest4 ,people of similar nature1 on the other hand1 immediately come to feel a kind of general agreement2 and if they are cast very much in the same mould1 complete harmony or even unison will flow from their intercourse4 ,this explain two circumstances4 ,first of all1 it shows why it is that common1 ordinary people are so sociable and find good company wherever they go4 ,ah6 those good1 dear1 brave people4 ,it is just the contrary with those who are not of the common run2 and the less they are so1 the more unsociable they become2 so that if1 in their isolation1 they chance to come across some one in whose nature they can find even a single sympathetic chord1 be it never so minute1 they show extraordinary pleasure in his society4 ,for one man can be to another only so much as the other is to him4 ,great minds are like eagles1 and build their nest in some lofty solitude4 ,secondly1 we are enabled to understand how it is that people of like disposition so quickly get on with one another1 as though they were drawn together by magnetic force--kindred souls greeting each other from afar4 ,of course the most frequent opportunity of observing this is afforded by people of vulgar tastes and inferior intellect1 but only because their name is legion2 while those who are better off in this respect and of a rarer nature1 are not often to be met with3 they are called rare because you can seldom find them4 ,take the case of a large number of people who have formed themselves into a league for the purpose of carrying out some practical object2 if there be two rascals among them1 they will recognize each other as readily as if they bore a similar badge1 and will at once conspire for some misfeasance or treachery4 ,in the same way1 if you can imagine--per impossible--a large company of very intelligent and clever people1 amongst whom there are only two blockheads1 these two will be sure to be drawn together by a feeling of sympathy1 and each of them will very soon secretly rejoice at having found at least one intelligent person in the whole company4 ,it is really quite curious to see how two such men1 especially if they are morally and intellectually of an inferior type1 will recognize each other at first sight2 with what zeal they will strive to become intimate2 how affably and cheerily they will run to greet each other1 just as though they were old friends2--it is all so striking that one is tempted to embrace the ,buddhist doctrine of metempsychosis and presume that they were on familiar terms in some former state of existence4 ,still1 in spite of all this general agreement1 men are kept apart who might come together2 or1 in some cases1 a passing discord springs up between them4 ,this is due to diversity of mood4 ,you will hardly ever see two people exactly in the same frame of mind2 for that is something which varies with their condition of life1 occupation1 surroundings1 health1 the train of thought they are in at the moment1 and so on4 ,these differences give rise to discord between persons of the most harmonious disposition4 ,to correct the balance properly1 so as to remove the disturbance--to introduce1 as it were1 a uniform temperature1--is a work demanding a very high degree of culture4 ,the extent to which uniformity of mood is productive of good-fellowship may be measured by its effects upon a large company4 ,when1 for instance1 a great many people are gathered together and presented with some objective interest which works upon all alike and influences them in a similar way1 no matter what it be--a common danger or hope1 some great news1 a spectacle1 a play1 a piece of music1 or anything of that kind--you will find them roused to a mutual expression of thought1 and a display of sincere interest4 ,there will be a general feeling of pleasure amongst them2 for that which attracts their attention produces a unity of mood by overpowering all private and personal interests4 ,and in default of some objective interest of the kind ,i have mentioned1 recourse is usually had to something subjective4 ,a bottle of wine is not an uncommon means of introducing a mutual feeling of fellowship2 and even tea and coffee are used for a like end4 ,the discord which so easily finds its way into all society as an effect of the different moods in which people happen to be for the moment1 also in part explains why it is that memory always idealizes1 and sometimes almost transfigures1 the attitude we have taken up at any period of the past--a change due to our inability to remember all the fleeting influences which disturbed us on any given occasion4 ,memory is in this respect like the lens of a camera obscura3 it contracts everything within its range1 and so produces a much finer picture than the actual landscape affords4 ,and1 in the case of a man1 absence always goes some way towards securing this advantageous light2 for though the idealizing tendency of the memory requires times to complete its work1 it begins it at once4 ,hence it is a prudent thing to see your friends and acquaintances only at considerable intervals of time2 and on meeting them again1 you will observe that memory has been at work4 ,,section #bc4 ,no man can see over his own height4 ,let me explain what ,i mean4 ,you cannot see in another man any more than you have in yourself2 and your own intelligence strictly determines the extent to which he comes within its grasp4 ,if your intelligence is of a very low order1 mental qualities in another1 even though they be of the highest kind1 will have no effect at all upon you2 you will see nothing in their possessor except the meanest side of his individuality--in other words1 just those parts of his character and disposition which are weak and defective4 ,your whole estimate of the man will be confined to his defects1 and his higher mental qualities will no more exist for you than colors exist for those who cannot see4 ,intellect is invisible to the man who has none4 ,in any attempt to criticise another's work1 the range of knowledge possessed by the critic is as essential a part of his verdict as the claims of the work itself4 ,hence intercourse with others involves a process of leveling down4 ,the qualities which are present in one man1 and absent in another1 cannot come into play when they meet2 and the self-sacrifice which this entails upon one of the parties1 calls forth no recognition from the other4 ,consider how sordid1 how stupid1 in a word1 how vulgar most men are1 and you will see that it is impossible to talk to them without becoming vulgar yourself for the time being4 ,vulgarity is in this respect like electricity2 it is easily distributed4 ,you will then fully appreciate the truth and propriety of the expression1 to make yourself cheap2 and you will be glad to avoid the society of people whose only possible point of contact with you is just that part of your nature of which you have least reason to be proud4 ,so you will see that1 in dealing with fools and blockheads1 there is only one way of showing your intelligence--by having nothing to do with them4 ,that means1 of course1 that when you go into society1 you may now and then feel like a good dancer who gets an invitation to a ball1 and on arriving1 finds that everyone is lame3--with whom is he to dance8 ,,section #bd4 ,i feel respect for the man--and he is one in a hundred--who1 when he is waiting or sitting unoccupied1 refrains from rattling or beating time with anything that happens to be handy1--his stick1 or knife and fork1 or whatever else it may be4 ,the probability is that he is thinking of something4 ,with a large number of people1 it is quite evident that their power of sight completely dominates over their power of thought2 they seem to be conscious of existence only when they are making a noise2 unless indeed they happen to be smoking1 for this serves a similar end4 ,it is for the same reason that they never fail to be all eyes and ears for what is going on around them4 ,,section #be4 ,la ,rochefoucauld makes the striking remark that it is difficult to feel deep veneration and great affection for one and the same person4 ,if this is so1 we shall have to choose whether it is veneration or love that we want from our fellow-men4 ,their love is always selfish1 though in very different ways2 and the means used to gain it are not always of a kind to make us proud4 ,a man is loved by others mainly in the degree in which he moderates his claim on their good feeling and intelligence3 but he must act genuinely in the matter and without dissimulation--not merely out of forbearance1 which is at bottom a kind of contempt4 ,this calls to mind a very true observation of ,helvetius#a3 the amount of intellect necessary to please us1 is a most accurate measure of the amount of intellect we have ourselves4 ,with these remarks as premises1 it is easy to draw the conclusion4 ,footnote #a3 ,translator's ,note4 ,helvetius1 ,claude-,adrien 7#agae-ga71 a ,french philosophical writer much esteemed by ,schopenhauer4 ,his chief work1 ,de l',esprit1 excited great interest and opposition at the time of its publication1 on account of the author's pronounced materialism4 ,now with veneration the case is just the opposite2 it is wrung from men reluctantly1 and for that very reason mostly concealed4 ,hence1 as compared with love1 veneration gives more real satisfaction2 for it is connected with personal value1 and the same is not directly true of love1 which is subjective in its nature1 whilst veneration is objective4 ,to be sure1 it is more useful to be loved than to be venerated4 ,,section #bf4 ,most men are so thoroughly subjective that nothing really interests them but themselves4 ,they always think of their own case as soon as ever any remark is made1 and their whole attention is engrossed and absorbed by the merest chance reference to anything which affects them personally1 be it never so remote3 with the result that they have no power left for forming an objective view of things1 should the conversation take that turn2 neither can they admit any validity in arguments which tell against their interest or their vanity4 ,hence their attention is easily distracted4 ,they are so readily offended1 insulted or annoyed1 that in discussing any impersonal matter with them1 no care is too great to avoid letting your remarks bear the slightest possible reference to the very worthy and sensitive individuals whom you have before you2 for anything you may say will perhaps hurt their feelings4 ,people really care about nothing that does not affect them personally4 ,true and striking observations1 fine1 subtle and witty things are lost upon them3 they cannot understand or feel them4 ,but anything that disturbs their petty vanity in the most remote and indirect way1 or reflects prejudicially upon their exceedingly precious selves--to that1 they are most tenderly sensitive4 ,in this respect they are like the little dog whose toes you are so apt to tread upon inadvertently--you know it by the shrill bark it sets up3 or1 again1 they resemble a sick man covered with sores and boils1 with whom the greatest care must be taken to avoid unnecessary handling4 ,and in some people this feeling reaches such a pass that1 if they are talking with anyone1 and he exhibits1 or does not sufficiently conceal1 his intelligence and discernment1 they look upon it as a downright insult2 although for the moment they hide their ill will1 and the unsuspecting author of it afterwards ruminates in vain upon their conduct1 and racks his brain to discover what he could possibly have done to excite their malice and hatred4 ,but it is just as easy to flatter and win them over2 and this is why their judgment is usually corrupt1 and why their opinions are swayed1 not by what is really true and right1 but by the favor of the party or class to which they belong4 ,and the ultimate reason of it all is1 that in such people force of will greatly predominates over knowledge2 and hence their meagre intellect is wholly given up to the service of the will1 and can never free itself from that service for a moment4 ,astrology furnishes a magnificent proof of this miserable subjective tendency in men1 which leads them to see everything only as bearing upon themselves1 and to think of nothing that is not straightway made into a personal matter4 ,the aim of astrology is to bring the motions of the celestial bodies into relation with the wretched ,ego and to establish a connection between a comet in the sky and squabbles and rascalities on earth4#a ,footnote #a3 ,see1 for instance1 ,stobasus1 ,eclog4 ,i4 xxii4 #i4 ,,section #bg4 ,when any wrong statement is made1 whether in public or in society1 or in books1 and well received--or1 at any rate1 not refuted--that that is no reason why you should despair or think there the matter will rest4 ,you should comfort yourself with the reflection that the question will be afterwards gradually subjected to examination2 light will be thrown upon it2 it will be thought over1 considered1 discussed1 and generally in the end the correct view will be reached2 so that1 after a time--the length of which will depend upon the difficulty of the subject--everyone will come to understand that which a clear head saw at once4 ,in the meantime1 of course1 you must have patience4 ,he who can see truly in the midst of general infatuation is like a man whose watch keeps good time1 when all clocks in the town in which he lives are wrong4 ,he alone knows the right time2 but what use is that to him8 for everyone goes by the clocks which speak false1 not even excepting those who know that his watch is the only one that is right4 ,,section #bh4 ,men are like children1 in that1 if you spoil them1 they become naughty4 ,therefore it is well not to be too indulgent or charitable with anyone4 ,you may take it as a general rule that you will not lose a friend by refusing him a loan1 but that you are very likely to do so by granting it2 and1 for similar reasons1 you will not readily alienate people by being somewhat proud and careless in your behaviour2 but if you are very kind and complaisant towards them1 you will often make them arrogant and intolerable1 and so a breach will ensue4 ,there is one thing that1 more than any other1 throws people absolutely off their balance--the thought that you are dependent upon them4 ,this is sure to produce an insolent and domineering manner towards you4 ,there are some people1 indeed1 who become rude if you enter into any kind of relation with them2 for instance1 if you have occasion to converse with them frequently upon confidential matters1 they soon come to fancy that they can take liberties with you1 and so they try and transgress the laws of politeness4 ,this is why there are so few with whom you care to become more intimate1 and why you should avoid familiarity with vulgar people4 ,if a man comes to think that ,i am more dependent upon him than he is upon me1 he at once feels as though ,i had stolen something from him2 and his endeavor will be to have his vengeance and get it back4 ,the only way to attain superiority in dealing with men1 is to let it be seen that you are independent of them4 ,and in this view it is advisable to let everyone of your acquaintance--whether man or woman--feel now and then that you could very well dispense with their company4 ,this will consolidate friendship4 ,nay1 with most people there will be no harm in occasionally mixing a grain of disdain with your treatment of them2 that will make them value your friendship all the more4 ,chi non istima vien stimato1 as a subtle ,italian proverb has it--to disregard is to win regard4 ,but if we really think very highly of a person1 we should conceal it from him like a crime4 ,this is not a very gratifying thing to do1 but it is right4 ,why1 a dog will not bear being treated too kindly1 let alone a man6 ,,section #bi4 ,it is often the case that people of noble character and great mental gifts betray a strange lack of worldly wisdom and a deficiency in the knowledge of men1 more especially when they are young2 with the result that it is easy to deceive or mislead them2 and that1 on the other hand1 natures of the commoner sort are more ready and successful in making their way in the world4 ,the reason of this is that1 when a man has little or no experience1 he must judge by his own antecedent notions2 and in matters demanding judgment1 an antecedent notion is never on the same level as experience4 ,for1 with the commoner sort of people1 an antecedent notion means just their own selfish point of view4 ,this is not the case with those whose mind and character are above the ordinary2 for it is precisely in this respect--their unselfishness--that they differ from the rest of mankind2 and as they judge other people's thoughts and actions by their own high standard1 the result does not always tally with their calculation4 ,but if1 in the end1 a man of noble character comes to see1 as the effect of his own experience1 or by the lessons he learns from others1 what it is that may be expected of men in general1--namely1 that five-sixths of them are morally and intellectually so constituted that1 if circumstances do not place you in relation with them1 you had better get out of their way and keep as far as possible from having anything to do with them1--still1 he will scarcely ever attain an adequate notion of their wretchedly mean and shabby nature3 all his life long he will have to be extending and adding to the inferior estimate he forms of them2 and in the meantime he will commit a great many mistakes and do himself harm4 ,then1 again1 after he has really taken to heart the lessons that have been taught him1 it will occasionally happen that1 when he is in the society of people whom he does not know1 he will be surprised to find how thoroughly reasonable they all appear to be1 both in their conversation and in their demeanor--in fact1 quite honest1 sincere1 virtuous and trustworthy people1 and at the same time shrewd and clever4 ,but that ought not to perplex him4 ,nature is not like those bad poets1 who1 in setting a fool or a knave before us1 do their work so clumsily1 and with such evident design1 that you might almost fancy you saw the poet standing behind each of his characters1 and continually disavowing their sentiments1 and telling you in a tone of warning3 ,this is a knave2 that is a fool2 do not mind what he says4 ,but ,nature goes to work like ,shakespeare and ,goethe1 poets who make every one of their characters--even if it is the devil himself6--appear to be quite in the right for the moment that they come before us in their several parts2 the characters are described so objectively that they excite our interest and compel us to sympathize with their point of view2 for1 like the works of ,nature1 every one of these characters is evolved as the result of some hidden law or principle1 which makes all they say and do appear natural and therefore necessary4 ,and you will always be the prey or the plaything of the devils and fools in this world1 if you expect to see them going about with horns or jangling their bells4 ,and it should be borne in mind that1 in their intercourse with others1 people are like the moon1 or like hunchbacks2 they show you only one of their sides4 ,every man has an innate talent for mimicry1--for making a mask out of his physiognomy1 so that he can always look as if he really were what he pretends to be2 and since he makes his calculations always within the lines of his individual nature1 the appearance he puts on suits him to a nicety1 and its effect is extremely deceptive4 ,he dons his mask whenever his object is to flatter himself into some one's good opinion2 and you may pay just as much attention to it as if it were made of wax or cardboard1 never forgetting that excellent ,italian proverb3 non si tristo cane che non meni la coda1--there is no dog so bad but that he will wag his tail4 ,in any case it is well to take care not to form a highly favorable opinion of a person whose acquaintance you have only recently made1 for otherwise you are very likely to be disappointed2 and then you will be ashamed of yourself and perhaps even suffer some injury4 ,and while ,i am on the subject1 there is another fact that deserves mention4 ,it is this4 ,a man shows his character just in the way in which he deals with trifles1--for then he is off his guard4 ,this will often afford a good opportunity of observing the boundless egoism of man's nature1 and his total lack of consideration for others2 and if these defects show themselves in small things1 or merely in his general demeanor1 you will find that they also underlie his action in matters of importance1 although he may disguise the fact4 ,this is an opportunity which should not be missed4 ,if in the little affairs of every day1--the trifles of life1 those matters to which the rule de minimis non applies1--a man is inconsiderate and seeks only what is advantageous or convenient to himself1 to the prejudice of others' rights2 if he appropriates to himself that which belongs to all alike1 you may be sure there is no justice in his heart1 and that he would be a scoundrel on a wholesale scale1 only that law and compulsion bind his hands4 ,do not trust him beyond your door4 ,he who is not afraid to break the laws of his own private circle1 will break those of the ,state when he can do so with impunity4 ,if the average man were so constituted that the good in him outweighed the bad1 it would be more advisable to rely upon his sense of justice1 fairness1 gratitude1 fidelity1 love or compassion1 than to work upon his fears2 but as the contrary is the case1 and it is the bad that outweighs the good1 the opposite course is the more prudent one4 ,if any person with whom we are associated or have to do1 exhibits unpleasant or annoying qualities1 we have only to ask ourselves whether or not this person is of so much value to us that we can put up with frequent and repeated exhibitions of the same qualities in a somewhat aggravated form4#a ,in case of an affirmative answer to this question1 there will not be much to be said1 because talking is very little use4 ,we must let the matter pass1 with or without some notice2 but we should nevertheless remember that we are thereby exposing ourselves to a repetition of the offence4 ,if the answer is in the negative1 we must break with our worthy friend at once and forever2 or in the case of a servant1 dismiss him4 ,for he will inevitably repeat the offence1 or do something tantamount to it1 should the occasion return1 even though for the moment he is deep and sincere in his assurances of the contrary4 ,there is nothing1 absolutely nothing1 that a man cannot forget1--but not himself1 his own character4 ,for character is incorrigible2 because all a man's actions emanate from an inward principle1 in virtue of which he must always do the same thing under like circumstances2 and he cannot do otherwise4 ,let me refer to my prize essay on the so-called ,freedom of the ,will1 the perusal of which will dissipate any delusions the reader may have on this subject4 ,footnote #a3 ,to forgive and forget means to throw away dearly bought experience4 ,to become reconciled to a friend with whom you have broken1 is a form of weakness2 and you pay the penalty of it when he takes the first opportunity of doing precisely the very thing which brought about the breach2 nay1 he does it the more boldly1 because he is secretly conscious that you cannot get on without him4 ,this is also applicable to servants whom you have dismissed1 and then taken into your service again4 ,for the same reason1 you should just as little expect people to continue to act in a similar way under altered circumstances4 ,the truth is that men alter their demeanor and sentiments just as fast as their interest changes2 and their resign in this respect is a bill drawn for short payment that the man must be still more short-sighted who accepts the bill without protesting it4 ,accordingly1 suppose you want to know how a man will behave in an office into which you think of putting him2 you should not build upon expectations1 on his promises or assurances4 ,for1 even allowing that he is quite sincere1 he is speaking about a matter of which he has no knowledge4 ,the only way to calculate how he will behave1 is to consider the circumstances in which he will be placed1 and the extent to which they will conflict with his character4 ,if you wish to get a clear and profound insight--and it is very needful--into the true but melancholy elements of which most men are made1 you will find in a very instructive thing to take the way they behave in the pages of literature as a commentary to their doings in practical life1 and vice versa4 ,the experience thus gained will be very useful in avoiding wrong ideas1 whether about yourself or about others4 ,but if you come across any special trait of meanness or stupidity--in life or in literature1--you must be careful not to let it annoy or distress you1 but to look upon it merely as an addition to your knowledge--a new fact to be considered in studying the character of humanity4 ,your attitude towards it will be that of the mineralogist who stumbles upon a very characteristic specimen of a mineral4 ,of course there are some facts which are very exceptional1 and it is difficult to understand how they arise1 and how it is that there come to be such enormous differences between man and man2 but1 in general1 what was said long ago is quite true1 and the world is in a very bad way4 ,in savage countries they eat one another1 in civilized they deceive one another2 and that is what people call the way of the world6 ,what are ,states and all the elaborate systems of political machinery1 and the rule of force1 whether in home or in foreign affairs1--what are they but barriers against the boundless iniquity of mankind8 ,does not all history show that whenever a king is firmly planted on a throne1 and his people reach some degree of prosperity1 he uses it to lead his army1 like a band of robbers1 against adjoining countries8 ,are not almost all wars ultimately undertaken for purposes of plunder8 ,in the most remote antiquity1 and to some extent also in the ,middle ,ages1 the conquered became slaves1--in other words1 they had to work for those who conquered them2 and where is the difference between that and paying war-taxes1 which represent the product of our previous work8 ,all war1 says ,voltaire1 is a matter of robbery2 and the ,germans should take that as a warning4 ,,section #cj4 ,no man is so formed that he can be left entirely to himself1 to go his own ways2 everyone needs to be guided by a preconceived plan1 and to follow certain general rules4 ,but if this is carried too far1 and a man tries to take on a character which is not natural or innate in him1 but it artificially acquired and evolved merely by a process of reasoning1 he will very soon discover that ,nature cannot be forced1 and that if you drive it out1 it will return despite your efforts3-- ,naturam expelles furca1 tamen usque recurret4 ,to understand a rule governing conduct towards others1 even to discover it for oneself and to express it neatly1 is easy enough2 and still1 very soon afterwards1 the rule may be broken in practice4 ,but that is no reason for despair2 and you need not fancy that as it is impossible to regulate your life in accordance with abstract ideas and maxims1 it is better to live just as you please4 ,here1 as in all theoretical instruction that aims at a practical result1 the first thing to do is to understand the rule2 the second thing is to learn the practice of it4 ,the theory may be understand at once by an effort of reason1 and yet the practice of it acquired only in course of time4 ,a pupil may lean the various notes on an instrument of music1 or the different position in fencing2 and when he makes a mistake1 as he is sure to do1 however hard he tries1 he is apt to think it will be impossible to observe the rules1 when he is set to read music at sight or challenged to a furious duel4 ,but for all that1 gradual practice makes him perfect1 through a long series of slips1 blunders and fresh efforts4 ,it is just the same in other things2 in learning to write and speak ,latin1 a man will forget the grammatical rules2 it is only by long practice that a blockhead turns into a courtier1 that a passionate man becomes shrewd and worldly-wise1 or a frank person reserved1 or a noble person ironical4 ,but though self-discipline of this kind is the result of long habit1 it always works by a sort of external compulsion1 which ,nature never ceases to resist and sometimes unexpectedly overcomes4 ,the difference between action in accordance with abstract principles1 and action as the result of original1 innate tendency1 is the same as that between a work of art1 say a watch--where form and movement are impressed upon shapeless and inert matter--and a living organism1 where form and matter are one1 and each is inseparable from the other4 ,there is a maxim attributed to the ,emperor ,napoleon1 which expresses this relation between acquired and innate character1 and confirms what ,i have said3 everything that is unnatural is imperfect2--a rule of universal application1 whether in the physical or in the moral sphere4 ,the only exception ,i can think of to this rule is aventurine1#a a substance known to mineralogists1 which in its natural state cannot compare with the artificial preparation of it4 ,footnote #a3 ,translator's ,note4 ,aventurine is a rare kind of quartz2 and the same name is given to a brownish-colored glass much resembling it1 which is manufactured at ,murano4 ,it is so called from the fact that the glass was discovered by chance 7arventura74 ,and in this connection let me utter a word of protest against any and every form of affectation4 ,it always arouses contempt2 in the first place1 because it argues deception1 and the deception is cowardly1 for it is based on fear2 and1 secondly1 it argues self-condemnation1 because it means that a man is trying to appear what he is not1 and therefore something which he things better than he actually is4 ,to affect a quality1 and to plume yourself upon it1 is just to confess that you have not got it4 ,whether it is courage1 or learning1 or intellect1 or wit1 or success with women1 or riches1 or social position1 or whatever else it may be that a man boasts of1 you may conclude by his boasting about it that that is precisely the direction in which he is rather weak2 for if a man really possesses any faculty to the full1 it will not occur to him to make a great show of affecting it2 he is quite content to know that he has it4 ,that is the application of the ,spanish proverb3 herradura que chacolotea clavo le falta--a clattering hoof means a nail gone4 ,to be sure1 as ,i said at first1 no man ought to let the reins go quite loose1 and show himself just as he is2 for there are many evil and bestial sides to our nature which require to be hidden away out of sight2 and this justifies the negative attitude of dissimulation1 but it does not justify a positive feigning of qualities which are not there4 ,it should also be remembered that affectation is recognized at once1 even before it is clear what it is that is being affected4 ,and1 finally1 affectation cannot last very long1 and one day the mask will fall off4 ,nemo potest personam diu ferre fictam1 says ,seneca2#a ficta cito in naturam suam recidunt--no one can persevere long in a fictitious character2 for nature will soon reassert itself4 ,footnote #a3 ,de ,clementia1 ,i4 #a4 ,,section #ca4 ,a man bears the weight of his own body without knowing it1 but he soon feels the weight of any other1 if he tries to move it2 in the same way1 a man can see other people's shortcoming's and vices1 but he is blind to his own4 ,this arrangement has one advantage3 it turns other people into a kind of mirror1 in which a man can see clearly everything that is vicious1 faulty1 ill-bred and loathsome in his own nature2 only1 it is generally the old story of the dog barking at is own image2 it is himself that he sees and not another dog1 as he fancies4 ,he who criticises others1 works at the reformation of himself4 ,those who form the secret habit of scrutinizing other people's general behavior1 and passing severe judgment upon what they do and leave undone1 thereby improve themselves1 and work out their own perfection3 for they will have sufficient sense of justice1 or at any rate enough pride and vanity1 to avoid in their own case that which they condemn so harshly elsewhere4 ,but tolerant people are just the opposite1 and claim for themselves the same indulgence that they extend to others--hanc veniam damus petimusque vicissim4 ,it is all very well for the ,bible to talk about the mote in another's eye and the beam in one's own4 ,the nature of the eye is to look not at itself but at other things2 and therefore to observe and blame faults in another is a very suitable way of becoming conscious of one's own4 ,we require a looking-glass for the due dressing of our morals4 ,the same rule applies in the case of style and fine writing4 ,if1 instead of condemning1 you applaud some new folly in these matters1 you will imitate it4 ,that is just why literary follies have such vogue in ,germany4 ,the ,germans are a very tolerant people--everybody can see that6 ,their maxim is--,hanc veniam damns petimusque vicissim4 ,,section #cb4 ,when he is young1 a man of noble character fancies that the relations prevailing amongst mankind1 and the alliances to which these relations lead1 are at bottom and essentially1 ideal in their nature2 that is to say1 that they rest upon similarity of disposition or sentiment1 or taste1 or intellectual power1 and so on4 ,but1 later on1 he finds out that it is a real foundation which underlies these alliances2 that they are based upon some material interest4 ,this is the true foundation of almost all alliances3 nay1 most men have no notion of an alliance resting upon any other basis4 ,accordingly we find that a man is always measured by the office he holds1 or by his occupation1 nationality1 or family relations--in a word1 by the position and character which have been assigned him in the conventional arrangements of life1 where he is ticketed and treated as so much goods4 ,reference to what he is in himself1 as a man--to the measure of his own personal qualities--is never made unless for convenience' sake3 and so that view of a man is something exceptional1 to be set aside and ignored1 the moment that anyone finds it disagreeable2 and this is what usually happens4 ,but the more of personal worth a man has1 the less pleasure he will take in these conventional arrangements2 and he will try to withdraw from the sphere in which they apply4 ,the reason why these arrangements exist at all1 is simply that in this world of ours misery and need are the chief features3 therefore it is everywhere the essential and paramount business of life to devise the means of alleviating them4 ,,section #cc4 ,as paper-money circulates in the world instead of real coin1 so1 is the place of true esteem and genuine friendship1 you have the outward appearance of it--a mimic show made to look as much like the real thing as possible4 ,on the other hand1 it may be asked whether there are any people who really deserve the true coin4 ,for my own part1 ,i should certainly pay more respect to an honest dog wagging his tail than to a hundred such demonstrations of human regard4 ,true and genuine friendship presupposes a strong sympathy with the weal and woe of another--purely objective in its character and quite disinterested2 and this in its turn means an absolute identification of self with the object of friendship4 ,the egoism of human nature is so strongly antagonistic to any such sympathy1 that true friendship belongs to that class of things--the sea-serpent1 for instance1--with regard to which no one knows whether they are fabulous or really exist somewhere or other4 ,still1 in many cases1 there is a grain of true and genuine friendship in the relation of man to man1 though generally1 of course1 some secret personal interest is at the bottom of them--some one among the many forms that selfishness can take4 ,but in a world where all is imperfect1 this grain of true feeling is such an ennobling influence that it gives some warrant for calling those relations by the name of friendship1 for they stand far above the ordinary friendships that prevail amongst mankind4 ,the latter are so constituted that1 were you to hear how your dear friends speak of you behind your back1 you would never say another word to them4 ,apart from the case where it would be a real help to you if your friend were to make some great sacrifice to serve you1 there is no better means of testing the genuineness of his feelings than the way in which he receives the news of a misfortune that has just happened to you4 ,at that moment the expression of his features will either show that his one thought is that of true and sincere sympathy for you2 or else the absolute composure of his countenance1 or the passing trace of something other than sympathy1 will confirm the well-known maxim of ,la ,rochefoucauld3 ,dans l'adversite de nos meilleurs amis1 nous trouvons toujours quelque chose qui ne nous deplait pas4 ,indeed1 at such a moment1 the ordinary so-called friend will find it hard to suppress the signs of a slight smile of pleasure4 ,there are few ways by which you can make more certain of putting people into a good humor than by telling them of some trouble that has recently befallen you1 or by unreservedly disclosing some personal weakness of yours4 ,how characteristic this is of humanity6 ,distance and long absence are always prejudicial to friendship1 however disinclined a man may be to admit4 ,our regard for people whom we do not see--even though they be our dearest friends--gradually dries up in the course of years1 and they become abstract notions2 so that our interest in them grows to be more and more intellectual1--nay1 it is kept up only as a kind of tradition2 whilst we retain a lively and deep interest in those who are constantly before our eyes1 even if they be only pet animals4 ,this shows how much men are limited by their senses1 and how true is the remark that ,goethe makes in ,tasso about the dominant influence of the present moment3-- ,die ,gegenwart ist eine mchtige ,gttin#a ,footnote #a3 ,act iv41 se4 #d4 ,friends of the house are very rightly so called2 because they are friends of the house rather than of its master2 in other words1 they are more like cats than dogs4 ,your friends will tell you that they are sincere2 your enemies are really so4 ,let your enemies' censure be like a bitter medicine1 to be used as a means of self-knowledge4 ,a friend in need1 as the saying goes1 is rare4 ,nay1 it is just the contrary2 no sooner have you made a friend than he is in need1 and asks for a loan4 ,,section #cd4 ,a man must be still a greenhorn in the ways of the world1 if he imagines that he can make himself popular in society by exhibiting intelligence and discernment4 ,with the immense majority of people1 such qualities excite hatred and resentment1 which are rendered all the harder to bear by the fact that people are obliged to suppress--even from themselves--the real reason of their anger4 ,what actually takes place is this4 ,a man feels and perceives that the person with whom he is conversing is intellectually very much his superior4#a ,footnote #a3 ,cf4 ,welt als ,wills und ,vorstellung1 ,bk4 ,,ii4 p4 #bef 7#dth ,edit471 where ,i quote from ,dr4 ,johnson1 and from ,merck1 the friend of ,goethe's youth4 ,the former says3 ,there is nothing by which a man exasperates most people more1 than by displaying a superior ability of brilliancy in conversation4 ,they seem pleased at the time1 but their envy makes them curse him at their hearts4 7,boswells ,life of ,johnson aetat3 #gd74 ,he thereupon secretly and half unconsciously concludes that his interlocutor must form a proportionately low and limited estimate of his abilities4 ,that is a method of reasoning--an enthymeme--which rouses the bitterest feelings of sullen and rancorous hatred4 ,and so ,gracian is quite right in saying that the only way to win affection from people is to show the most animal-like simplicity of demeanor--para ser bien quisto1 el unico medio vestirse la piel del mas simple de los brutos4#a ,footnote #a3 ,translator's ,note4--,balthazar ,graeian1 ,oraculo manual1 y arte de prudencia1 #bdj4 ,gracian 7#aehd-afeh7 was a ,spanish prose writer and ,jesuit1 whose works deal chiefly with the observation of character in the various phenomena of life4 ,schopenhauer1 among others1 had a great admiration for his worldly philosophy1 and translated his ,oraculo manual--a system of rules for the conduct of life--into ,german4 ,the same book was translated into ,english towards the close of the seventeenth century4 ,to show your intelligence and discernment is only an indirect way of reproaching other people for being dull and incapable4 ,and besides1 it is natural for a vulgar man to be violently agitated by the sight of opposition in any form2 and in this case envy comes in as the secret cause of his hostility4 ,for it is a matter of daily observation that people take the greatest pleasure in that which satisfies their vanity2 and vanity cannot be satisfied without comparison with others4 ,now1 there is nothing of which a man is prouder than of intellectual ability1 for it is this that gives him his commanding place in the animal world4 ,it is an exceedingly rash thing to let any one see that you are decidedly superior to him in this respect1 and to let other people see it too2 because he will then thirst for vengeance1 and generally look about for an opportunity of taking it by means of insult1 because this is to pass from the sphere of intellect to that of will--and there1 all are on an equal footing as regards the feeling of hostility4 ,hence1 while rank and riches may always reckon upon deferential treatment in society1 that is something which intellectual ability can never expect2 to be ignored is the greatest favor shown to it2 and if people notice it at all1 it is because they regard it as a piece of impertinence1 or else as something to which its possessor has no legitimate right1 and upon which he dares to pride himself2 and in retaliation and revenge for his conduct1 people secretly try and humiliate him in some other way2 and if they wait to do this1 it is only for a fitting opportunity4 ,a man may be as humble as possible in his demeanor1 and yet hardly ever get people to overlook his crime in standing intellectually above them4 ,in the ,garden of ,roses1 ,sadi makes the remark3--,you should know that foolish people are a hundredfold more averse to meeting the wise than the wise are indisposed for the company of the foolish4 ,on the other hand1 it is a real recommendation to be stupid4 ,for just as warmth is agreeable to the body1 so it does the mind good to feel its superiority2 and a man will seek company likely to give him this feeling1 as instinctively as he will approach the fireplace or walk in the sun if he wants to get warm4 ,but this means that he will be disliked on account of his superiority2 and if a man is to be liked1 he must really be inferior in point of intellect2 and the same thing holds good of a woman in point of beauty4 ,to give proof of real and unfeigned inferiority to some of the people you meet--that is a very difficult business indeed6 ,consider how kindly and heartily a girl who is passably pretty will welcome one who is downright ugly4 ,physical advantages are not thought so much of in the case of man1 though ,i suppose you would rather a little man sat next to you than one who was bigger than yourself4 ,this is why1 amongst men1 it is the dull and ignorant1 and amongst women1 the ugly1 who are always popular and in request4#a ,it is likely to be said of such people that they are extremely good-natured1 because every one wants to find a pretext for caring about them--a pretext which will blind both himself and other people to the real reason why he likes them4 ,this is also why mental superiority of any sort always tends to isolate its possessor2 people run away from him out of pure hatred1 and say all manner of bad things about him by way of justifying their action4 ,beauty1 in the case of women1 has a similar effect3 very pretty girls have no friends of their own sex1 and they even find it hard to get another girl to keep them company4 ,a handsome woman should always avoid applying for a position as companion1 because the moment she enters the room1 her prospective mistress will scowl at her beauty1 as a piece of folly with which1 both for her own and for her daughter's sake1 she can very well dispense4 ,but if the girl has advantages of rank1 the case is very different2 because rank1 unlike personal qualities which work by the force of mere contrast1 produces its effect by a process of reflection2 much in the same way as the particular hue of a person's complexion depends upon the prevailing tone of his immediate surroundings4 ,footnote #a3 ,if you desire to get on in the world1 friends and acquaintances are by far the best passport to fortune4 ,the possession of a great deal of ability makes a man proud1 and therefore not apt to flatter those who have very little1 and from whom1 on that account1 the possession of great ability should be carefully concealed4 ,the consciousness of small intellectual power has just the opposite effect1 and is very compatible with a humble1 affable and companionable nature1 and with respect for what is mean and wretched4 ,this is why an inferior sort of man has so many friends to befriend and encourage him4 ,these remarks are applicable not only to advancement in political life1 but to all competition for places of honor and dignity1 nay1 even for reputation in the world of science1 literature and art4 ,in learned societies1 for example1 mediocrity--that very acceptable quality--is always to the fore1 whilst merit meets with tardy recognition1 or with none at all4 ,so it is in everything4 ,,section #ce4 ,our trust in other people often consists in great measure of pure laziness1 selfishness and vanity on our own part3 ,i say laziness1 because1 instead of making inquiries ourselves1 and exercising an active care1 we prefer to trust others2 selfishness1 because we are led to confide in people by the pressure of our own affairs2 and vanity1 when we ask confidence for a matter on which we rather pride ourselves4 ,and yet1 for all that1 we expect people to be true to the trust we repose in them4 ,but we ought not to become angry if people put no trust in us3 because that really means that they pay honesty the sincere compliment of regarding it as a very rare thing1--so rare1 indeed1 as to leave us in doubt whether its existence is not merely fabulous4 ,,section #cf4 ,politeness1--which the ,chinese hold to be a cardinal virtue1--is based upon two considerations of policy4 ,i have explained one of these considerations in my ,ethics2 the other is as follows3--,politeness is a tacit agreement that people's miserable defects1 whether moral or intellectual1 shall on either side be ignored and not made the subject of reproach2 and since these defects are thus rendered somewhat less obtrusive1 the result is mutually advantageous4#a ,footnote #a3 ,translator's ,note4--,in the passage referred to 7,grundlage der ,moral1 collected works1 ,vol4 ,,iv41 pp4 #ahg and #aih71 ,schopenhauer explains politeness as a conventional and systematic attempt to mask the egoism of human nature in the small affairs of life1--an egoism so repulsive that some such device is necessary for the purpose of concealing its ugliness4 ,the relation which politeness bears to the true love of one's neighbor is analogous to that existing between justice as an affair of legality1 and justice as the real integrity of the heart4 ,it is a wise thing to be polite2 consequently1 it is a stupid thing to be rude4 ,to make enemies by unnecessary and willful incivility1 is just as insane a proceeding as to set your house on fire4 ,for politeness is like a counter--an avowedly false coin1 with which it is foolish to be stingy4 ,a sensible man will be generous in the use of it4 ,it is customary in every country to end a letter with the words3--your most obedient servant--votre trs-humble serviteur--suo devotissimo servo4 7,the ,germans are the only people who suppress the word servant--,diener--because1 of course1 it is not true67 ,however1 to carry politeness to such an extent as to damage your prospects1 is like giving money where only counters are expected4 ,wax1 a substance naturally hard and brittle1 can be made soft by the application of a little warmth1 so that it will take any shape you please4 ,in the same way1 by being polite and friendly1 you can make people pliable and obliging1 even though they are apt to be crabbed and malevolent4 ,hence politeness is to human nature what warmth is to wax4 ,of course1 it is no easy matter to be polite2 in so far1 ,i mean1 as it requires us to show great respect for everybody1 whereas most people deserve none at all2 and again in so far as it demands that we should feign the most lively interest in people1 when we must be very glad that we have nothing to do with them4 ,to combine politeness with pride is a masterpiece of wisdom4 ,we should be much less ready to lose our temper over an insult1--which1 in the strict sense of the word1 means that we have not been treated with respect1--if1 on the one hand1 we have not such an exaggerated estimate of our value and dignity--that is to say1 if we were not so immensely proud of ourselves2 and1 on the other hand1 if we had arrived at any clear notion of the judgment which1 in his heart1 one man generally passes upon another4 ,if most people resent the slightest hint that any blame attaches to them1 you may imagine their feelings if they were to overhear what their acquaintance say about them4 ,you should never lose sight of the fact that ordinary politeness is only a grinning mask3 if it shifts its place a little1 or is removed for a moment1 there is no use raising a hue and cry4 ,when a man is downright rude1 it is as though he had taken off all his clothes1 and stood before you in puris naturalibus4 ,like most men in this condition1 he does not present a very attractive appearance4 ,,section #cg4 ,you ought never to take any man as a model for what you should do or leave undone2 because position and circumstances are in no two cases alike1 and difference of character gives a peculiar1 individual tone to what a man does4 ,hence duo cum faciunt idem1 non est idem--two persons may do the same thing with a different result4 ,a man should act in accordance with his own character1 as soon as he has carefully deliberated on what he is about to do4 ,the outcome of this is that originality cannot be dispensed with in practical matters3 otherwise1 what a man does will not accord with what he is4 ,,section #ch4 ,never combat any man's opinion2 for though you reached the age of ,methuselah1 you would never have done setting him right upon all the absurd things that he believes4 ,it is also well to avoid correcting people's mistakes in conversation1 however good your intentions may be2 for it is easy to offend people1 and difficult1 if not impossible1 to mend them4 ,if you feel irritated by the absurd remarks of two people whose conversation you happen to overhear1 you should imagine that you are listening to a dialogue of two fools in a comedy4 ,probatum est4 ,the man who comes into the world with the notion that he is really going to instruct in matters of the highest importance1 may thank his stars if he escapes with a whole skin4 ,,section #ci4 ,if you want your judgment to be accepted1 express it coolly and without passion4 ,all violence has its seat in the will2 and so1 if your judgment is expressed with vehemence1 people will consider it an effort of will1 and not the outcome of knowledge1 which is in its nature cold and unimpassioned4 ,since the will is the primary and radical element in human nature1 and intellect merely supervenes as something secondary1 people are more likely to believe that the opinion you express with so much vehemence is due to the excited state of your will1 rather than that the excitement of the will comes only from the ardent nature of your opinion4 ,,section #dj4 ,even when you are fully justified in praising yourself1 you should never be seduced into doing so4 ,for vanity is so very common1 and merit so very uncommon1 that even if a man appears to be praising himself1 though very indirectly1 people will be ready to lay a hundred to one that he is talking out of pure vanity1 and that he has not sense enough to see what a fool he is making of himself4 ,still1 for all that1 there may be some truth in ,bacon's remark that1 as in the case of calumny1 if you throw enough dirt1 some of it will stick1 so it it also in regard to self-praise2 with the conclusion that self-praise1 in small doses1 is to be recommended4#a ,footnote #a3 ,translator's ,note4--,schopenhauer alludes to the following passage in ,bacon's ,de ,augmentis ,scientiarum1 ,bk4 viii41 ch4 #b3 ,sicut enim dici solet de calumnia1 audacter calumniare1 semper aliquid haeret2 sic dici potest de jactantia1 7nisi plane deformis fuerit et ridicula71 audacter te vendita1 semper aliquid haeret4 ,haerebit certe apud populum1 licet prudentiores subrideant4 ,itaque existimatio parta apud plurimos paucorum fastidium abunde compensabit4 ,,section #da4 ,if you have reason to suspect that a person is telling you a lie1 look as though you believed every word he said4 ,this will give him courage to go on2 he will become more vehement in his assertions1 and in the end betray himself4 ,again1 if you perceive that a person is trying to conceal something from you1 but with only partial success1 look as though you did not believe him1 ,this opposition on your part will provoke him into leading out his reserve of truth and bringing the whole force of it to bear upon your incredulity4 ,,section #db4 ,you should regard all your private affairs as secrets1 and1 in respect of them1 treat your acquaintances1 even though you are on good terms with them1 as perfect strangers1 letting them know nothing more than they can see for themselves4 ,for in course of time1 and under altered circumstances1 you may find it a disadvantage that they know even the most harmless things about you4 ,and1 as a general rule1 it is more advisable to show your intelligence by saying nothing than by speaking out2 for silence is a matter of prudence1 whilst speech has something in it of vanity4 ,the opportunities for displaying the one or the other quality occur equally often2 but the fleeting satisfaction afforded by speech is often preferred to the permanent advantage secured by silence4 ,the feeling of relief which lively people experience in speaking aloud when no one is listening1 should not be indulged1 lest it grow into a habit2 for in this way thought establishes such very friendly terms with speech1 that conversation is apt to become a process of thinking aloud4 ,prudence exacts that a wide gulf should be fixed between what we think and what we say4 ,at times we fancy that people are utterly unable to believe in the truth of some statement affecting us personally1 whereas it never occurs to them to doubt it2 but if we give them the slightest opportunity of doubting it1 they find it absolutely impossible to believe it any more4 ,we often betray ourselves into revealing something1 simply because we suppose that people cannot help noticing it1--just as a man will throw himself down from a great height because he loses his head1 in other words1 because he fancies that he cannot retain a firm footing any longer2 the torment of his position is so great1 that he thinks it better to put an end to it at once4 ,this is the kind of insanity which is called acrophobia4 ,but it should not be forgotten how clever people are in regard to affairs which do not concern them1 even though they show no particularly sign of acuteness in other matters4 ,this is a kind of algebra in which people are very proficient3 give them a single fact to go upon1 and they will solve the most complicated problems4 ,so1 if you wish to relate some event that happened long ago1 without mentioning any names1 or otherwise indicating the persons to whom you refer1 you should be very careful not to introduce into your narrative anything that might point1 however distantly1 to some definite fact1 whether it is a particular locality1 or a date1 or the name of some one who was only to a small extent implicated1 or anything else that was even remotely connected with the event2 for that at once gives people something positive to go upon1 and by the aid of their talent for this sort of algebra1 they will discover all the rest4 ,their curiosity in these matters becomes a kind of enthusiasm3 their will spurs on their intellect1 and drives it forward to the attainment of the most remote results4 ,for however unsusceptible and different people may be to general and universal truths1 they are very ardent in the matter of particular details4 ,in keeping with what ,i have said1 it will be found that all those who profess to give instructions in the wisdom of life are specially urgent in commending the practice of silence1 and assign manifold reasons why it should be observed2 so it is not necessary for me to enlarge upon the subject any further4 ,however1 ,i may just add one or two little known ,arabian proverbs1 which occur to me as peculiarly appropriate3-- ,do not tell a friend anything that you would conceal from an enemy4 ,a secret is in my custody1 if ,i keep it2 but should it escape me1 it is ,i who am the prisoner4 ,the tree of silence bears the fruit of peace4 ,,section #dc4 ,money is never spent to so much advantage as when you have been cheated out of it2 for at one stroke you have purchased prudence4 ,,section #dd4 ,if possible1 no animosity should be felt for anyone4 ,but carefully observe and remember the manner in which a man conducts himself1 so that you may take the measure of his value1--at any rate in regard to yourself1--and regulate your bearing towards him accordingly2 never losing sight of the fact that character is unalterable1 and that to forget the bad features in a man's disposition is like throwing away hard-won money4 ,thus you will protect yourself against the results of unwise intimacy and foolish friendship4 ,give way neither to love nor to hate1 is one-half of worldly wisdom3 say nothing and believe nothing1 the other half4 ,truly1 a world where there is need of such rules as this and the following1 is one upon which a man may well turn his back4 ,,section #de4 ,to speak angrily to a person1 to show your hatred by what you say or by the way you look1 is an unnecessary proceeding--dangerous1 foolish1 ridiculous1 and vulgar4 ,anger and hatred should never be shown otherwise than in what you do2 and feelings will be all the more effective in action1 in so far as you avoid the exhibition of them in any other way4 ,it is only cold-blooded animals whose bite is poisonous4 ,,section #df4 ,to speak without emphasizing your words--parler sans accent--is an old rule with those who are wise in the world's ways4 ,it means that you should leave other people to discover what it is that you have said2 and as their minds are slow1 you can make your escape in time4 ,on the other hand1 to emphasize your meaning--parler avec accent--is to address their feelings2 and the result is always the opposite of what you expect4 ,if you are polite enough in your manner and courteous in your tone there are many people whom you may abuse outright1 and yet run no immediate risk of offending them4 ,,chapter ,,iv1 ,,worldly ,,fortune4--,,section #dg4 ,however varied the forms that human destiny may take1 the same elements are always present2 and so life is everywhere much of a piece1 whether it passed in the cottage or in the palace1 in the barrack or in the cloister4 ,alter the circumstance as much as you please6 point to strange adventures1 successes1 failures6 life is like a sweet-shop1 where there is a great variety of things1 odd in shape and diverse in color--one and all made from the same paste4 ,and when men speak of some one's success1 the lot of the man who has failed is not so very different as it seems4 ,the inequalities in the world are like the combinations in a kaleidoscope2 at every turn a fresh picture strikes the eye2 and yet1 in reality1 you see only the same bits of glass as you saw before4 ,,section #dh4 ,an ancient writer says1 very truly1 that there are three great powers in the world2 ,sagacity1 ,strength1 and ,luck1--,greek3 sunetos1 kratos1 tuchu4 ,i think the last is the most efficacious4 ,a man's life is like the voyage of a ship1 where luck--secunda aut adversa fortuna--acts the part of the wind1 and speeds the vessel on its way or drives it far out of its course4 ,all that the man can do for himself is of little avail2 like the rudder1 which1 if worked hard and continuously1 may help in the navigation of the ship2 and yet all may be lost again by a sudden squall4 ,but if the wind is only in the right quarter1 the ship will sail on so as not to need any steering4 ,the power of luck is nowhere better expressed than in a certain ,spanish proverb3 ,da ,ventura a tu hijo1 y echa lo en el mar--give your son luck and throw him into the sea4 ,still1 chance1 it may be said1 is a malignant power1 and as little as possible should be left to its agency4 ,and yet where is there any giver who1 in dispensing gifts1 tells us quite clearly that we have no right to them1 and that we owe them not to any merit on our part1 but wholly to the goodness and grace of the giver--at the same time allowing us to cherish the joyful hope of receiving1 in all humility1 further undeserved gifts from the same hands--where is there any giver like that1 unless it be ,chance8 who understands the kingly art of showing the recipient that all merit is powerless and unavailing against the royal grace and favor4 ,on looking back over the course of his life1--that labyrinthine way of error1--a man must see many points where luck failed him and misfortune came2 and then it is easy to carry self-reproach to an unjust excess4 ,for the course of a man's life is in no wise entirely of his own making2 it is the product of two factors--the series of things that happened1 and his own resolves in regard to them1 and these two are constantly interacting upon and modifying each other4 ,and besides these1 another influence is at work in the very limited extent of a man's horizon1 whether it is that he cannot see very far ahead in respect of the plans he will adopt1 or that he is still less able to predict the course of future events3 his knowledge is strictly confined to present plans and present events4 ,hence1 as long as a man's goal is far off1 he cannot steer straight for it2 he must be content to make a course that is approximately right2 and in following the direction in which he thinks he ought to go1 he will often have occasion to tack4 ,all that a man can do is to form such resolves as from time to time accord with the circumstances in which he is placed1 in the hope of thus managing to advance a step nearer towards the final goal4 ,it is usually the case that the position in which we stand1 and the object at which we aim1 resemble two tendencies working with dissimilar strength in different directions2 and the course of our life is represented by their diagonal1 or resultant force4 ,terence makes the remark that life is like a game at dice1 where if the number that turns up is not precisely the one you want1 you can still contrive to use it equally3--in vita est hominum quasi cum ludas tesseris2 si illud quod maxime opus est jactu non cadit1 illud quod cecidit forte1 id arte ut corrigas4#a ,or1 to put the matter more shortly1 life is a game of cards1 when the cards are shuffled and dealt by fate4 ,but for my present purpose1 the most suitable simile would be that of a game of chess1 where the plan we determined to follow is conditioned by the play of our rival1--in life1 by the caprice of fate4 ,we are compelled to modify our tactics1 often to such an extent that1 as we carry them out1 hardly a single feature of the original plan can be recognized4 ,footnote #a3 ,he seems to have been referring to a game something like backgammon4 ,but above and beyond all this1 there is another influence that makes itself felt in our lives4 ,it is a trite saying--only too frequently true--that we are often more foolish than we think4 ,on the other hand1 we are often wiser than we fancy ourselves to be4 ,this1 however1 is a discovery which only those can make1 of whom it is really true2 and it takes them a long time to make it4 ,our brains are not the wisest part of us4 ,in the great moments of life1 when a man decides upon an important step1 his action is directed not so much by any clear knowledge of the right thing to do1 as by an inner impulse--you may almost call it an instinct--proceeding from the deepest foundations of his being4 ,if1 later on1 he attempts to criticise his action by the light of hard and fast ideas of what is right in the abstract--those unprofitable ideas which are learnt by rote1 or1 it may be1 borrowed from other people2 if he begins to apply general rules1 the principles which have guided others1 to his own case1 without sufficiently weighing the maxim that one man's meat is another's poison1 then he will run great risk of doing himself an injustice4 ,the result will show where the right course lay4 ,it is only when a man has reached the happy age of wisdom that he is capable of just judgment in regard either to his own actions or to those of others4 ,it may be that this impulse or instinct is the unconscious effect of a kind of prophetic dream which is forgotten when we awake--lending our life a uniformity of tone1 a dramatic unity1 such as could never result from the unstable moments of consciousness1 when we are so easily led into error1 so liable to strike a false note4 ,it is in virtue of some such prophetic dream that a man feels himself called to great achievements in a special sphere1 and works in that direction from his youth up out of an inner and secret feeling that that is his true path1 just as by a similar instinct the bee is led to build up its cells in the comb4 ,this is the impulse which ,balthazar ,gracian calls la gran sindresis#a--the great power of moral discernment3 it is something that a man instinctively feels to be his salvation without which he were lost4 ,footnote #a3 ,translator's ,note4--,this obscure word appears to be derived from the ,greek sugtaereo 7,n4,t4 and ,polyb47 meaning to observe strictly4 ,it occurs in ,the ,doctor and ,student1 a series of dialogues between a doctor of divinity and a student on the laws of ,england1 first published in #aeah2 and is there 7,dialog4 ,i4 ch4 #ac7 explained as a natural power of the soule1 set in the highest part thereof1 moving and stirring it to good1 and abhoring evil4 ,this passage is copied into ,milton's ,commonplace ,book1 edit4 ,horwood1 #gi4 ,the word is also found in the ,dictionary of the ,spanish ,academy 7vol4 vi4 of the year #agci7 in the sense of an innate discernment of moral principles1 where a quotation is given from ,madre ,maria de ,jesus1 abbess of the convent of the ,conception at ,agreda1 a mystical writer of the seventeenth century1 frequently consulted by ,philip ,,iv41--and again in the ,bolognese ,dictionary of #ahbd1 with a similar meaning1 illustrated from the writings of ,salvini 7#afec-agbi74 ,for these references ,i am indebted to the kindness of ,mr4 ,norman ,maccoll4 ,to act in accordance with abstract principles is a difficult matter1 and a great deal of practice will be required before you can be even occasionally successful2 it of tens happens that the principles do not fit in with your particular case4 ,but every man has certain innate concrete principles--a part1 as it were1 of the very blood that flows in his veins1 the sum or result1 in fact1 of all his thoughts1 feelings and volitions4 ,usually he has no knowledge of them in any abstract form2 it is only when he looks back upon the course his life has taken1 that he becomes aware of having been always led on by them--as though they formed an invisible clue which he had followed unawares4 ,,section #di4 ,that ,time works great changes1 and that all things are in their nature fleeting--these are truths that should never be forgotten4 ,hence1 in whatever case you may be1 it is well to picture to yourself the opposite3 in prosperity1 to be mindful of misfortune2 in friendship1 of enmity2 in good weather1 of days when the sky is overcast2 in love1 of hatred2 in moments of trust1 to imagine the betrayal that will make you regret your confidence2 and so1 too1 when you are in evil plight1 to have a lively sense of happier times--what a lasting source of true worldly wisdom were there6 ,we should then always reflect1 and not be so very easily deceived2 because1 in general1 we should anticipate the very changes that the years will bring4 ,perhaps in no form of knowledge is personal experience so indispensable as in learning to see that all things are unstable and transitory in this world4 ,there is nothing that1 in its own place and for the time it lasts1 is not a product of necessity1 and therefore capable of being fully justified2 and it is this fact that makes circumstances of every year1 every month1 even of every day1 seem as though they might maintain their right to last to all eternity4 ,but we know that this can never be the case1 and that in a world where all is fleeting1 change alone endures4 ,he is a prudent man who is not only undeceived by apparent stability1 but is able to forecast the lines upon which movement will take place4#a ,footnote #a3 ,chance plays so great a part in all human affairs that when a man tries to ward off a remote danger by present sacrifice1 the danger often vanishes under some new and unforeseen development of events2 and then the sacrifice1 in addition to being a complete loss1 brings about such an altered state of things as to be in itself a source of positive danger in the face of this new development4 ,in taking measures of precaution1 then1 it is well not to look too far ahead1 but to reckon with chance2 and often to oppose a courageous front to a danger1 in the hope that1 like many a dark thunder-cloud1 it may pass away without breaking4 ,but people generally think that present circumstances will last1 and that matters will go on in the future as they have clone in the past4 ,their mistakes arises from the fact that they do not understand the cause of the things they see--causes which1 unlike the effects they produce1 contain in themselves the germ of future change4 ,the effects are all that people know1 and they hold fast to them on the supposition that those unknown causes1 which were sufficient to bring them about1 will also be able to maintain them as they are4 ,this is a very common error2 and the fact that it is common is not without its advantage1 for it means that people always err in unison2 and hence the calamity which results from the error affects all alike1 and is therefore easy to bear2 whereas1 if a philosopher makes a mistake1 he is alone in his error1 and so at a double disadvantage4#a ,footnote #a3 ,i may remark1 parenthetically1 that all this is a confirmation of the principle laid down in ,die ,welt als ,wille und ,vorstellung 7,bk4 ,i4 p4 #id3 #dth edit471 that error always consists in making a wrong inference1 that is1 in ascribing a given effect to something that did not cause it4 ,but in saying that we should anticipate the effects of time1 ,i mean that we should mentally forecast what they are likely to be2 ,i do not mean that we should practically forestall them1 by demanding the immediate performance of promises which time alone can fulfill4 ,the man who makes his demand will find out that there is no worse or more exacting usurer than ,time2 and that1 if you compel ,time to give money in advance1 you will have to pay a rate of interest more ruinous than any ,jew would require4 ,it is possible1 for instance1 to make a tree burst forth into leaf1 blossom1 or even bear fruit within a few days1 by the application of unslaked lime and artificial heat2 but after that the tree will wither away4 ,so a young man may abuse his strength--it may be only for a few weeks--by trying to do at nineteen what he could easily manage at thirty1 and ,time may give him the loan for which he asks2 but the interest he will have to pay comes out of the strength of his later years2 nay1 it is part of his very life itself4 ,there are some kinds of illness in which entire restoration to health is possible only by letting the complaint run its natural course2 after which it disappears without leaving any trace of its existence4 ,but if the sufferer is very impatient1 and1 while he is still affected1 insists that he is completely well1 in this case1 too1 ,time will grant the loan1 and the complaint may be shaken off2 but life-long weakness and chronic mischief will be the interest paid upon it4 ,again1 in time of war or general disturbance1 a man may require ready money at once1 and have to sell out his investments in land or consols for a third or even a still smaller fraction of the sum he would have received from them1 if he could have waited for the market to right itself1 which would have happened in due course2 but he compels ,time to grant him a loan1 and his loss is the interest he has to pay4 ,or perhaps he wants to go on a long journey and requires the money3 in one or two years he could lay by a sufficient sum out of his income1 but he cannot afford to wait2 and so he either borrows it or deducts it from his capital2 in other words1 he gets ,time to lend him the money in advance4 ,the interest he pays is a disordered state of his accounts1 and permanent and increasing deficits1 which he can never make good4 ,such is ,time's usury2 and all who cannot wait are its victims4 ,there is no more thriftless proceeding than to try and mend the measured pace of ,time4 ,be careful1 then1 not to become its debtor4 ,,section #ej4 ,in the daily affairs of life1 you will have very many opportunities of recognizing a characteristic difference between ordinary people of prudence and discretion4 ,in estimating the possibility of danger in connection with any undertaking1 an ordinary man will confine his inquiries to the kind of risk that has already attended such undertakings in the past2 whereas a prudent person will look ahead1 and consider everything that might possibly happen in the future1 having regard to a certain ,spanish maxim3 lo que no acaece en un ano1 acaece en un rato--a thing may not happen in a year1 and yet may happen within two minutes4 ,the difference in question is1 of course1 quite natural2 for it requires some amount of discernment to calculate possibilities2 but a man need only have his senses about him to see what has already happened4 ,do not omit to sacrifice to evil spirits4 ,what ,i mean is1 that a man should not hesitate about spending time1 trouble1 and money1 or giving up his comfort1 or restricting his aims and denying himself1 if he can thereby shut the door on the possibility of misfortune4 ,the most terrible misfortunes are also the most improbable and remote--the least likely to occur4 ,the rule ,i am giving is best exemplified in the practice of insurance1--a public sacrifice made on the altar of anxiety4 ,therefore take out your policy of insurance6 ,,section #ea4 ,whatever fate befalls you1 do not give way to great rejoicings or great lamentations2 partly because all things are full of change1 and your fortune may turn at any moment2 partly because men are so apt to be deceived in their judgment as to what is good or bad for them4 ,almost every one in his turn has lamented over something which afterwards turned out to be the very best thing for him that could have happened--or rejoiced at an event which became the source of his greatest sufferings4 ,the right state of mind has been finely portrayed by ,shakespeare3 ,i have felt so many quirks of joy and grief ,that the first face of neither1 on the start1 ,can woman me unto't4#a ,footnote #a3 ,all's ,well that ,ends ,well1 ,act4 ii4 ,sc4 #b4 ,and1 in general1 it may be said that1 if a man takes misfortunes quietly1 it is because he knows that very many dreadful things may happen in the course of life2 and so he looks upon the trouble of the moment as only a very small part of that which might come4 ,this is the ,stoic temper--never to be unmindful of the sad fate of humanity--condicionis humanoe oblitus2 but always to remember that our existence is full of woe and misery3 and that the ills to which we are exposed are innumerable4 ,wherever he be1 a man need only cast a look around1 to revive the sense of human misery3 there before his eyes he can see mankind struggling and floundering in torment1--all for the sake of a wretched existence1 barren and unprofitable6 ,if he remembers this1 a man will not expect very much from life1 but learn to accommodate himself to a world where all is relative and no perfect state exists2--always looking misfortune in the face1 and if he cannot avoid it1 meeting it with courage4 ,it should never be forgotten that misfortune1 be it great or small1 is the element in which we live4 ,but that is no reason why a man should indulge in fretful complaints1 and1 like ,beresford1#a pull a long face over the ,miseries of ,human ,life1--and not a single hour is free from them2 or still less1 call upon the ,deity at every flea-bite--in pulicis morsu ,deum invocare4 ,our aim should be to look well about us1 to ward off misfortune by going to meet it1 to attain such perfection and refinement in averting the disagreeable things of life1--whether they come from our fellow-men or from the physical world1--that1 like a clever fox1 we may slip out of the way of every mishap1 great or small2 remembering that a mishap is generally only our own awkwardness in disguise4 ,footnote #a3 ,translator's ,note4--,rev4 ,james ,beresford 7#agfd-ahdj71 miscellaneous writer4 ,the full title of this1 his chief work1 is ,the ,miseries of ,human ,life2 or the last groans of ,timothy ,testy and ,samuel ,sensitive1 with a few supplementary sighs from ,mrs4 ,testy4 ,the main reason why misfortune falls less heavily upon us1 if we have looked upon its occurrence as not impossible1 and1 as the saying is1 prepared ourselves for it1 may be this3 if1 before this misfortune comes1 we have quietly thought over it as something which may or may not happen1 the whole of its extent and range is known to us1 and we can1 at least1 determine how far it will affect us2 so that1 if it really arrives1 it does not depress us unduly--its weight is not felt to be greater than it actually is4 ,but if no preparation has been made to meet it1 and it comes unexpectedly1 the mind is in a state of terror for the moment and unable to measure the full extent of the calamity2 it seems so far-reaching in its effects that the victim might well think there was no limit to them2 in any case1 its range is exaggerated4 ,in the same way1 darkness and uncertainty always increase the sense of danger4 ,and1 of course1 if we have thought over the possibility of misfortune1 we have also at the same time considered the sources to which we shall look for help and consolation2 or1 at any rate1 we have accustomed ourselves to the idea of it4 ,there is nothing that better fits us to endure the misfortunes of life with composure1 than to know for certain that everything that happens--from the smallest up to the greatest facts of existence--happens of necessity4#a ,a man soon accommodates himself to the inevitable--to something that must be2 and if he knows that nothing can happen except of necessity1 he will see that things cannot be other that they are1 and that even the strangest chances in the world are just as much a product of necessity as phenomena which obey well-known rules and turn out exactly in accordance with expectation4 ,let me here refer to what ,i have said elsewhere on the soothing effect of the knowledge that all things are inevitable and a product of necessity4#b ,footnote #a3 ,this is a truth which ,i have firmly established in my prize-essay on the ,freedom of the ,will1 where the reader will find a detailed explanation of the grounds on which it rests4 ,cf4 especially p4 #fj4 ,schopenhauer's ,works1 #dth ,edit41 vol4 iv4--,tr4 ,footnote #b3 ,cf4 ,welt als ,wille und ,vorstellung1 ,bk4 ,i4 p4 #cfa 7#dth edit474 ,if a man is steeped in the knowledge of this truth1 he will1 first of all1 do what he can1 and then readily endure what he must4 ,we may regard the petty vexations of life that are constantly happening1 as designed to keep us in practice for bearing great misfortunes1 so that we may not become completely enervated by a career of prosperity4 ,a man should be as ,siegfried1 armed cap--pie1 towards the small troubles of every day--those little differences we have with our fellow-men1 insignificant disputes1 unbecoming conduct in other people1 petty gossip1 and many other similar annoyances of life2 he should not feel them at all1 much less take them to heart and brood over them1 but hold them at arm's length and push them out of his way1 like stones that lie in the road1 and upon no account think about them and give them a place in his reflections4 ,,section #eb4 ,what people commonly call ,fate is1 as a general rule1 nothing but their own stupid and foolish conduct4 ,there is a fine passage in ,homer1#a illustrating the truth of this remark1 where the poet praises ,,greek3 maetis--shrewd council2 and his advice is worthy of all attention4 ,for if wickedness is atoned for only in another world1 stupidity gets its reward here--although1 now and then1 mercy may be shown to the offender4 ,footnote #a3 ,iliad1 xxiii4 #cac1 sqq4 ,it is not ferocity but cunning that strikes fear into the heart and forebodes danger2 so true it is that the human brain is a more terrible weapon than the lion's paw4 ,the most finished man of the world would be one who was never irresolute and never in a hurry4 ,,section #ec4 ,courage comes next to prudence as a quality of mind very essential to happiness4 ,it is quite true that no one can endow himself with either1 since a man inherits prudence from his mother and courage from his father2 still1 if he has these qualities1 he can do much to develop them by means of resolute exercise4 ,in this world1 where the game is played with loaded dice1 a man must have a temper of iron1 with armor proof to the blows of fate1 and weapons to make his way against men4 ,life is one long battle2 we have to fight at every step2 and ,voltaire very rightly says that if we succeed1 it is at the point of the sword1 and that we die with the weapon in our hand--on ne russit dans ce monde qua la pointe de l'pee1 et on meurt les armes la main4 ,it is a cowardly soul that shrinks or grows faint and despondent as soon as the storm begins to gather1 or even when the first cloud appears on the horizon4 ,our motto should be ,no ,surrender2 and far from yielding to the ills of life1 let us take fresh courage from misfortune3-- ,tu ne cede malis sed contra audentior ito4#a ,footnote #a3 ,virgil1 ,aeneid1 vi4 #ie4 ,as long as the issue of any matter fraught with peril is still in doubt1 and there is yet some possibility left that all may come right1 no one should ever tremble or think of anything but resistance1--just as a man should not despair of the weather if he can see a bit of blue sky anywhere4 ,let our attitude be such that we should not quake even if the world fell in ruins about us3-- ,si fractus illabatur orbis ,impavidum ferient ruinae4#a ,footnote #a3 ,horace1 ,odes iii4 #c4 ,our whole life itself--let alone its blessings--would not be worth such a cowardly trembling and shrinking of the heart4 ,therefore1 let us face life courageously and show a firm front to every ill3-- ,quocirca vivite fortes ,fortiaque adversis opponite pectora rebus4 ,still1 it is possible for courage to be carried to an excess and to degenerate into rashness4 ,it may even be said that some amount of fear is necessary1 if we are to exist at all in the world1 and cowardice is only the exaggerated form of it4 ,this truth has been very well expressed by ,bacon1 in his account of ,terror ,panicus2 and the etymological account which he gives of its meaning1 is very superior to the ancient explanation preserved for us by ,plutarch4#a ,he connects the expression with ,pan the personification of ,nature2#b and observes that fear is innate in every living thing1 and1 in fact1 tends to its preservation1 but that it is apt to come into play without due cause1 and that man is especially exposed to it4 ,the chief feature of this ,panie ,terror is that there is no clear notion of any definite danger bound up with it2 that it presumes rather than knows that danger exists2 and that1 in case of need1 it pleads fright itself as the reason for being afraid4 ,footnote #a3 ,de ,iside et ,osiride ch4 #ad4 ,footnote #b3 ,de ,sapientia ,veterum1 ,c4 #f4 ,natura enim rerum omnibus viventibus indidit mentum ac formidinem1 vitae atque essentiae suae conservatricem1 ac mala ingruentia vitantem et depellentem4 ,verumtamen eaden natura modum tenere nescia est3 sed timoribus salutaribus semper vanos et innanes admiscet2 adeo ut omnia 7si intus conspici darentur7 ,panicis terroribus plenissima sint praesertim humana4 ,,chapter ,v4 ,,the ,,ages ,,of ,,life4 ,there is a very fine saying of ,voltaire's to the effect that every age of life has its own peculiar mental character1 and that a man will feel completely unhappy if his mind is not in accordance with his years3-- ,qui n'a pas l'esprit de son ge1 ,de son ge atout le malheur4 ,it will1 therefore1 be a fitting close to our speculations upon the nature of happiness1 if we glance at the chances which the various periods of life produce in us4 ,our whole life long it is the present1 and the present alone1 that we actually possess3 the only difference is that at the beginning of life we look forward to a long future1 and that towards the end we look back upon a long past2 also that our temperament1 but not our character1 undergoes certain well-known changes1 which make the present wear a different color at each period of life4 ,i have elsewhere stated that in childhood we are more given to using our intellect than our will2 and ,i have explained why this is so4#a ,it is just for this reason that the first quarter of life is so happy3 as we look back upon it in after years1 it seems a sort of lost paradise4 ,in childhood our relations with others are limited1 our wants are few1--in a word1 there is little stimulus for the will2 and so our chief concern is the extension of our knowledge4 ,the intellect--like the brain1 which attains its full size in the seventh year1#b is developed early1 though it takes time to mature2 and it explores the whole world of its surroundings in its constant search for nutriment3 it is then that existence is in itself an ever fresh delight1 and all things sparkle with the charm of novelty4 ,footnote #a3 ,translator's ,note4--,schopenhauer refers to ,die ,welt als ,wille und ,vorstellung1 ,bk4 ,,ii4 c1 #ca1 p4 #dea 7#dth edit471 where he explains that this is due to the fact that at that period of life the brain and nervous system are much more developed than any other part of the organism4 ,footnote #b3 ,translator's ,note4--,this statement is not quite correct4 ,the weight of the brain increases rapidly up to the seventh year1 more slowly between the sixteenth and the twentieth year1 still more slowly till between thirty and forty years of age1 when it attains its maximum4 ,at each decennial period after this1 it is supposed to decrease in weight on the average1 an ounce for every ten years4 ,this is why the years of childhood are like a long poem4 ,for the function of poetry1 as of all art1 is to grasp the ,idea--in the ,platonic sense2 in other words1 to apprehend a particular object in such a way as to perceive its essential nature1 the characteristics it has in common with all other objects of the same kind2 so that a single object appears as the representative of a class1 and the results of one experience hold good for a thousand4 ,it may be thought that my remarks are opposed to fact1 and that the child is never occupied with anything beyond the individual objects or events which are presented to it from time to time1 and then only in so far as they interest and excite its will for the moment2 but this is not really the case4 ,in those early years1 life--in the full meaning of the word1 is something so new and fresh1 and its sensations are so keen and unblunted by repetition1 that1 in the midst of all its pursuits and without any clear consciousness of what it is doing1 the child is always silently occupied in grasping the nature of life itself1--in arriving at its fundamental character and general outline by means of separate scenes and experiences2 or1 to use ,spinoza's phraseology1 the child is learning to see the things and persons about it sub specie aeternitatis1--as particular manifestations of universal law4 ,the younger we are1 then1 the more does every individual object represent for us the whole class to which it belongs2 but as the years increase1 this becomes less and less the case4 ,that is the reason why youthful impressions are so different from those of old age4 ,and that it also why the slight knowledge and experience gained in childhood and youth afterwards come to stand as the permanent rubric1 or heading1 for all the knowledge acquired in later life1--those early forms of knowledge passing into categories1 as it were1 under which the results of subsequent experience are classified2 though a clear consciousness of what is being done1 does not always attend upon the process4 ,in this way the earliest years of a man's life lay the foundation of his view of the world1 whether it be shallow or deep2 and although this view may be extended and perfected later on1 it is not materially altered4 ,it is an effect of this purely objective and therefore poetical view of the world1--essential to the period of childhood and promoted by the as yet undeveloped state of the volitional energy--that1 as children1 we are concerned much more with the acquisition of pure knowledge than with exercising the power of will4 ,hence that grave1 fixed look observable in so many children1 of which ,raphael makes such a happy use in his depiction of cherubs1 especially in the picture of the ,sistine ,madonna4 ,the years of childhood are thus rendered so full of bliss that the memory of them is always coupled with longing and regret4 ,while we thus eagerly apply ourselves to learning the outward aspect of things1 as the primitive method of understanding the objects about us1 education aims at instilling into us ideas4 ,but ideas furnish no information as to the real and essential nature of objects1 which1 as the foundation and true content of all knowledge1 can be reached only by the process called intuition4 ,this is a kind of knowledge which can in no wise be instilled into us from without2 we must arrive at it by and for ourselves4 ,hence a man's intellectual as well as his moral qualities proceed from the depths of his own nature1 and are not the result of external influences2 and no educational scheme--of ,pestalozzi1 or of any one else--can turn a born simpleton into a man of sense4 ,the thing is impossible6 ,he was born a simpleton1 and a simpleton he will die4 ,it is the depth and intensity of this early intuitive knowledge of the external world that explain why the experiences of childhood take such a firm hold on the memory4 ,when we were young1 we were completely absorbed in our immediate surroundings2 there was nothing to distract our attention from them2 we looked upon the objects about us as though they were the only ones of their kind1 as though1 indeed1 nothing else existed at all4 ,later on1 when we come to find out how many things there are in the world1 this primitive state of mind vanishes1 and with it our patience4 ,i have said elsewhere#a that the world1 considered as object1--in other words1 as it is presented to us objectively1--wears in general a pleasing aspect2 but that in the world1 considered as subject1--that is1 in regard to its inner nature1 which is will1--pain and trouble predominate4 ,i may be allowed to express the matter1 briefly1 thus3 the world is glorious to look at1 but dreadful in reality4 ,footnote #a3 ,die ,welt als ,wille und ,vorstellung1 ,bk4 ,,ii4 c4 #ca1 p4 #dbf-g 7#dth ,edit471 to which the reader is referred for a detailed explanation of my meaning4 ,accordingly1 we find that1 in the years of childhood1 the world is much better known to us on its outer or objective side1 namely1 as the presentation of will1 than on the side of its inner nature1 namely1 as the will itself4 ,since the objective side wears a pleasing aspect1 and the inner or subjective side1 with its tale of horror1 remains as yet unknown1 the youth1 as his intelligence develops1 takes all the forms of beauty that he sees1 in nature and in art1 for so many objects of blissful existence2 they are so beautiful to the outward eye that1 on their inner side1 they must1 he thinks1 be much more beautiful still4 ,so the world lies before him like another ,eden2 and this is the ,arcadia in which we are all born4 ,a little later1 this state of mind gives birth to a thirst for real life--the impulse to do and suffer--which drives a man forth into the hurly-burly of the world4 ,there he learns the other side of existence--the inner side1 the will1 which is thwarted at every step4 ,then comes the great period of disillusion1 a period of very gradual growth2 but once it has fairly begun1 a man will tell you that he has got over all his false notions--l'ge des illusions est pass2 and yet the process is only beginning1 and it goes on extending its sway and applying more and more to the whole of life4 ,so it may be said that in childhood1 life looks like the scenery in a theatre1 as you view it from a distance2 and that in old age it is like the same scenery when you come up quite close to it4 ,and1 lastly1 there is another circumstance that contributes to the happiness of childhood4 ,as spring commences1 the young leaves on the trees are similar in color and much the same in shape2 and in the first years of life we all resemble one another and harmonize very well4 ,but with puberty divergence begins2 and1 like the radii of a circle1 we go further and further apart4 ,the period of youth1 which forms the remainder of this earlier half of our existence--and how many advantages it has over the later half6--is troubled and made miserable by the pursuit of happiness1 as though there were no doubt that it can be met with somewhere in life1--a hope that always ends in failure and leads to discontent4 ,an illusory image of some vague future bliss--born of a dream and shaped by fancy--floats before our eyes2 and we search for the reality in vain4 ,so it is that the young man is generally dissatisfied with the position in which he finds himself1 whatever it may be2 he ascribes his disappointment solely to the state of things that meets him on his first introduction to life1 when he had expected something very different2 whereas it is only the vanity and wretchedness of human life everywhere that he is now for the first time experiencing4 ,it would be a great advantage to a young man if his early training could eradicate the idea that the world has a great deal to offer him4 ,but the usual result of education is to strengthen this delusion2 and our first ideas of life are generally taken from fiction rather than from fact4 ,in the bright dawn of our youthful days1 the poetry of life spreads out a gorgeous vision before us1 and we torture ourselves by longing to see it realized4 ,we might as well wish to grasp the rainbow6 ,the youth expects his career to be like an interesting romance2 and there lies the germ of that disappointment which ,i have been describing4#a ,what lends a charm to all these visions is just the fact that they are visionary and not real1 and that in contemplating them we are in the sphere of pure knowledge1 which is sufficient in itself and free from the noise and struggle of life4 ,to try and realize those visions is to make them an object of will--a process which always involves pain4#b ,footnote #a3 ,cf4 loc4 cit41 p4 #dbh4 ,footnote #b3 ,let me refer the reader1 if he is interested in the subject1 to the volume already cited1 chapter #cg4 ,if the chief feature of the earlier half of life is a never-satisfied longing after happiness1 the later half is characterized by the dread of misfortune4 ,for1 as we advance in years1 it becomes in a greater or less degree clear that all happiness is chimerical in its nature1 and that pain alone is real4 ,accordingly1 in later years1 we1 or1 at least1 the more prudent amongst us1 are more intent upon eliminating what is painful from our lives and making our position secure1 than on the pursuit of positive pleasure4 ,i may observe1 by the way1 that in old age1 we are better able to prevent misfortunes from coming1 and in youth better able to bear them when they come4 ,in my young days1 ,i was always pleased to hear a ring at my door3 ah6 thought ,i1 now for something pleasant4 ,but in later life my feelings on such occasions were rather akin to dismay than to pleasure3 heaven help me6 thought ,i1 what am ,i to do8 ,a similar revulsion of feeling in regard to the world of men takes place in all persons of any talent or distinction4 ,for that very reason they cannot be said properly to belong to the world2 in a greater or less degree1 according to the extent of their superiority1 they stand alone4 ,in their youth they have a sense of being abandoned by the world2 but later on1 they feel as though they had escaped it4 ,the earlier feeling is an unpleasant one1 and rests upon ignorance2 the second is pleasurable--for in the meantime they have come to know what the world is4 ,the consequence of this is that1 as compared with the earlier1 the later half of life1 like the second part of a musical period1 has less of passionate longing and more restfulness about it4 ,and why is this the case ,simply because1 in youth1 a man fancies that there is a prodigious amount of happiness and pleasure to be had in the world1 only that it is difficult to come by it2 whereas1 when he becomes old1 he knows that there is nothing of the kind2 he makes his mind completely at ease on the matter1 enjoys the present hour as well as he can1 and even takes a pleasure in trifles4 ,the chief result gained by experience of life is clearness of view4 ,this is what distinguishes the man of mature age1 and makes the world wear such a different aspect from that which it presented in his youth or boyhood4 ,it is only then that he sees things quite plain1 and takes them for that which they really are3 while in earlier years he saw a phantom-world1 put together out of the whims and crotchets of his own mind1 inherited prejudice and strange delusion3 the real world was hidden from him1 or the vision of it distorted4 ,the first thing that experience finds to do is to free us from the phantoms of the brain--those false notions that have been put into us in youth4 ,to prevent their entrance at all would1 of course1 be the best form of education1 even though it were only negative in aim3 but it would be a task full of difficulty4 ,at first the child's horizon would have to be limited as much as possible1 and yet within that limited sphere none but clear and correct notions would have to be given2 only after the child had properly appreciated everything within it1 might the sphere be gradually enlarged2 care being always taken that nothing was left obscure1 or half or wrongly understood4 ,the consequence of this training would be that the child's notions of men and things would always be limited and simple in their character2 but1 on the other hand1 they would be clear and correct1 and only need to be extended1 not to be rectified4 ,the same line might be pursued on into the period of youth4 ,this method of education would lay special stress upon the prohibition of novel reading2 and the place of novels would be taken by suitable biographical literature--the life of ,franklin1 for instance1 or ,moritz' ,anton ,reiser4#a ,footnote #a3 ,translator's ,note4--,moritz was a miscellaneous writer of the last century 7#ageg-ic74 ,his ,anton ,reiser1 composed in the form of a novel1 is practically an autobiography4 ,in our early days we fancy that the leading events in our life1 and the persons who are going to play an important part in it1 will make their entrance to the sound of drums and trumpets2 but when1 in old age1 we look back1 we find that they all came in quite quietly1 slipped in1 as it were1 by the side-door1 almost unnoticed4 ,from the point of view we have been taking up until now1 life may be compared to a piece of embroidery1 of which1 during the first half of his time1 a man gets a sight of the right side1 and during the second half1 of the wrong4 ,the wrong side is not so pretty as the right1 but it is more instructive2 it shows the way in which the threads have been worked together4 ,intellectual superiority1 even if it is of the highest kind1 will not secure for a man a preponderating place in conversation until after he is forty years of age4 ,for age and experience1 though they can never be a substitute for intellectual talent1 may far outweigh it2 and even in a person of the meanest capacity1 they give a certain counterpoise to the power of an extremely intellectual man1 so long as the latter is young4 ,of course ,i allude here to personal superiority1 not to the place a man may gain by his works4 ,and on passing his fortieth year1 any man of the slightest power of mind--any man1 that is1 who has more than the sorry share of intellect with which ,nature has endowed five-sixths of mankind--will hardly fail to show some trace of misanthropy4 ,for1 as is natural1 he has by that time inferred other people's character from an examination of his own2 with the result that he has been gradually disappointed to find that in the qualities of the head or in those of the heart--and usually in both--he reaches a level to which they do not attain2 so he gladly avoids having anything more to do with them4 ,for it may be said1 in general1 that every man will love or hate solitude--in other ,words1 his own society--just in proportion as he is worth anything in himself4 ,kant has some remarks upon this kind of misanthropy in his ,critique of the ,faculty of ,judgment4#a ,footnote #a3 ,kritik der ,urtheilskraft1 ,part ,i1 #bi1 ,note ad fin4 ,in a young man1 it is a bad sign1 as well from an intellectual as from a moral point of view1 if he is precocious in understanding the ways of the world1 and in adapting himself to its pursuits2 if he at once knows how to deal with men1 and enters upon life1 as it were1 fully prepared4 ,it argues a vulgar nature4 ,on the other hand1 to be surprised and astonished at the way people act1 and to be clumsy and cross-grained in having to do with them1 indicates a character of the nobler sort4 ,the cheerfulness and vivacity of youth are partly due to the fact that1 when we are ascending the hill of life1 death is not visible3 it lies down at the bottom of the other side4 ,but once we have crossed the top of the hill1 death comes in view--death--which1 until then1 was known to us only by hearsay4 ,this makes our spirits droop1 for at the same time we begin to feel that our vital powers are on the ebb4 ,a grave seriousness now takes the place of that early extravagance of spirit2 and the change is noticeable even in the expression of a man's face4 ,as long as we are young1 people may tell us what they please6 we look upon life as endless and use our time recklessly2 but the older we become1 the more we practice economy4 ,for towards the close of life1 every day we live gives us the same kind of sensation as the criminal experiences at every step on his way to be tried4 ,from the standpoint of youth1 life seems to stretch away into an endless future2 from the standpoint of old age1 to go back but a little way into the past2 so that1 at the beginning1 life presents us with a picture in which the objects appear a great way off1 as though we had reversed our telescope2 while in the end everything seems so close4 ,to see how short life is1 a man must have grown old1 that is to say1 he must have lived long4 ,on the other hand1 as the years increase1 things look smaller1 one and all2 and ,life1 which had so firm and stable a base in the days of our youth1 now seems nothing but a rapid flight of moments1 every one of them illusory3 we have come to see that the whole world is vanity6 ,time itself seems to go at a much slower pace when we are young2 so that not only is the first quarter of life the happiest1 it is also the longest of all2 it leaves more memories behind it4 ,if a man were put to it1 he could tell you more out of the first quarter of his life than out of two of the remaining periods4 ,nay1 in the spring of life1 as in the spring of the year1 the days reach a length that is positively tiresome2 but in the autumn1 whether of the year or of life1 though they are short1 they are more genial and uniform4 ,but why is it that to an old man his past life appears so short8 ,for this reason3 his memory is short2 and so he fancies that his life has been short too4 ,he no longer remembers the insignificant parts of it1 and much that was unpleasant is now forgotten2 how little1 then1 there is left6 ,for1 in general1 a man's memory is as imperfect as his intellect2 and he must make a practice of reflecting upon the lessons he has learned and the events he has experienced1 if he does not want them both to sink gradually into the gulf of oblivion4 ,now1 we are unaccustomed to reflect upon matters of no importance1 or1 as a rule1 upon things that we have found disagreeable1 and yet that is necessary if the memory of them is to be preserved4 ,but the class of things that may be called insignificant is continually receiving fresh additions3 much that wears an air of importance at first1 gradually becomes of no consequence at all from the fact of its frequent repetition2 so that in the end we actually lose count of the number of times it happens4 ,hence we are better able to remember the events of our early than of our later years4 ,the longer we live1 the fewer are the things that we can call important or significant enough to deserve further consideration1 and by this alone can they be fixed in the memory2 in other words1 they are forgotten as soon as they are past4 ,thus it is that time runs on1 leaving always fewer traces of its passage4 ,further1 if disagreeable things have happened to us1 we do not care to ruminate upon them1 least of all when they touch our vanity1 as is usually the case2 for few misfortunes fall upon us for which we can be held entirely blameless4 ,so people are very ready to forget many things that are disagreeable1 as well as many that are unimportant4 ,it is from this double cause that our memory is so short2 and a man's recollection of what has happened always becomes proportionately shorter1 the more things that have occupied him in life4 ,the things we did in years gone by1 the events that happened long ago1 are like those objects on the coast which1 to the seafarer on his outward voyage1 become smaller every minute1 more unrecognizable and harder to distinguish4 ,again1 it sometimes happens that memory and imagination will call up some long past scene as vividly as if it had occurred only yesterday2 so that the event in question seems to stand very near to the present time4 ,the reason of this is that it is impossible to call up all the intervening period in the same vivid way1 as there is no one figure pervading it which can be taken in at a glance2 and besides1 most of the things that happened in that period are forgotten1 and all that remains of it is the general knowledge that we have lived through it--a mere notion of abstract existence1 not a direct vision of some particular experience4 ,it is this that causes some single event of long ago to appear as though it took place but yesterday3 the intervening time vanishes1 and the whole of life looks incredibly short4 ,nay1 there are occasional moments in old age when we can scarcely believe that we are so advanced in years1 or that the long past lying behind us has had any real existence--a feeling which is mainly due to the circumstance that the present always seems fixed and immovable as we look at it4 ,these and similar mental phenomena are ultimately to be traced to the fact that it is not our nature in itself1 but only the outward presentation of it1 that lies in time1 and that the present is the point of contact between the world as subject and the world as object4#a ,footnote #a3 ,translator's ,note4--,by this remark ,schopenhauer means that will1 which1 as he argues1 forms the inner reality underlying all the phenomena of life and nature1 is not in itself affected by time2 but that1 on the other hand1 time is necessary for the objectification of the will1 for the will as presented in the passing phenomena of the world4 ,time is thus definable as the condition of change1 and the present time as the only point of contact between reality and appearance4 ,again1 why is it that in youth we can see no end to the years that seem to lie before us8 ,because we are obliged to find room for all the things we hope to attain in life4 ,we cram the years so full of projects that if we were to try and carry them all out1 death would come prematurely though we reached the age of ,methuselah4 ,another reason why life looks so long when we are young1 is that we are apt to measure its length by the few years we have already lived4 ,in those early years things are new to us1 and so they appear important2 we dwell upon them after they have happened and often call them to mind2 and thus in youth life seems replete with incident1 and therefore of long duration4 ,sometimes we credit ourselves with a longing to be in some distant spot1 whereas1 in truth1 we are only longing to have the time back again which we spent there--days when we were younger and fresher than we are now4 ,in those moments ,time mocks us by wearing the mask of space2 and if we travel to the spot1 we can see how much we have been deceived4 ,there are two ways of reaching a great age1 both of which presuppose a sound constitution as a conditio sine qu non4 ,they may be illustrated by two lamps1 one of which burns a long time with very little oil1 because it has a very thin wick2 and the other just as long1 though it has a very thick one1 because there is plenty of oil to feed it4 ,here1 the oil is the vital energy1 and the difference in the wick is the manifold way in which the vital energy is used4 ,up to our thirty-sixth year1 we may be compared1 in respect of the way in which we use our vital energy1 to people who live on the interest of their money3 what they spend to-day1 they have again to-morrow4 ,but from the age of thirty-six onwards1 our position is like that of the investor who begins to entrench upon his capital4 ,at first he hardly notices any difference at all1 as the greater part of his expenses is covered by the interest of his securities2 and if the deficit is but slight1 he pays no attention to it4 ,but the deficit goes on increasing1 until he awakes to the fact that it is becoming more serious every day3 his position becomes less and less secure1 and he feels himself growing poorer and poorer1 while he has no expectation of this drain upon his resources coming to an end4 ,his fall from wealth to poverty becomes faster every moment--like the fall of a solid body in space1 until at last he has absolutely nothing left4 ,a man is truly in a woeful plight if both the terms of this comparison--his vital energy and his wealth--really begin to melt away at one and the same time4 ,it is the dread of this calamity that makes love of possession increase with age4 ,on the other hand1 at the beginning of life1 in the years before we attain majority1 and for some little time afterwards--the state of our vital energy puts us on a level with those who each year lay by a part of their interest and add it to their capital3 in other words1 not only does their interest come in regularly1 but the capital is constantly receiving additions4 ,this happy condition of affairs is sometimes brought about--with health as with money--under the watchful care of some honest guardian4 ,o happy youth1 and sad old age6 ,nevertheless1 a man should economize his strength even when he is young4 ,aristotle#a observes that amongst those who were victors at ,olympia only two or three gained a prize at two different periods1 once in boyhood and then again when they came to be men2 and the reason of this was that the premature efforts which the training involved1 so completely exhausted their powers that they failed to last on into manhood4 ,as this is true of muscular1 so it is still more true of nervous energy1 of which all intellectual achievements are the manifestation4 ,hence1 those infant prodigies--ingenia praecoda--the fruit of a hot-house education1 who surprise us by their cleverness as children1 afterwards turn out very ordinary folk4 ,nay1 the manner in which boys are forced into an early acquaintance with the ancient tongues may1 perhaps1 be to blame for the dullness and lack of judgment which distinguish so many learned persons4 ,footnote #a3 ,politics4 ,i have said that almost every man's character seems to be specially suited to some one period of life1 so that on reaching it the man is at his best4 ,some people are charming so long as they are young1 and afterwards there is nothing attractive about them2 others are vigorous and active in manhood1 and then lose all the value they possess as they advance in years2 many appear to best advantage in old age1 when their character assumes a gentler tone1 as becomes men who have seen the world and take life easily4 ,this is often the case with the ,french4 ,this peculiarity must be due to the fact that the man's character has something in it akin to the qualities of youth or manhood or old age--something which accords with one or another of these periods of life1 or perhaps acts as a corrective to its special failings4 ,the mariner observes the progress he makes only by the way in which objects on the coast fade away into the distance and apparently decrease in size4 ,in the same way a man becomes conscious that he is advancing in years when he finds that people older than himself begin to seem young to him4 ,it has already been remarked that the older a man becomes1 the fewer are the traces left in his mind by all that he sees1 does or experiences1 and the cause of this has been explained4 ,there is thus a sense in which it may be said that it is only in youth that a man lives with a full degree of consciousness1 and that he is only half alive when he is old4 ,as the years advance1 his consciousness of what goes on about him dwindles1 and the things of life hurry by without making any impression upon him1 just as none is made by a work of art seen for the thousandth time4 ,a man does what his hand finds to do1 and afterwards he does not know whether he has done it or not4 ,as life becomes more and more unconscious1 the nearer it approaches the point at which all consciousness ceases1 the course of time itself seems to increase in rapidity4 ,in childhood all the things and circumstances of life are novel2 and that is sufficient to awake us to the full consciousness of existence3 hence1 at that age1 the day seems of such immense length4 ,the same thing happens when we are traveling3 one month seems longer then than four spent at home4 ,still1 though time seems to last longer when we are young or on a journey1 the sense of novelty does not prevent it from now and then in reality hanging heavily upon our hands under both these circumstances1 at any rate more than is the case when we are old or staying at home4 ,but the intellect gradually becomes so rubbed down and blunted by long habituation to such impressions that things have a constant tendency to produce less and less impression upon us as they pass by2 and this makes time seem increasingly less important1 and therefore shorter in duration3 the hours of the boy are longer than the days of the old man4 ,accordingly1 time goes faster and faster the longer we live1 like a ball rolling down a hill4 ,or1 to take another example3 as in a revolving disc1 the further a point lies from the centre1 the more rapid is its rate of progression1 so it is in the wheel of life2 the further you stand from the beginning1 the faster time moves for you4 ,hence it may be said that as far as concerns the immediate sensation that time makes upon our minds1 the length of any given year is in direct proportion to the number of times it will divide our whole life3 for instance1 at the age of fifty the year appears to us only one-tenth as long as it did at the age of five4 ,this variation in the rate at which time appears to move1 exercises a most decided influence upon the whole nature of our existence at every period of it4 ,first of all1 it causes childhood--even though it embrace only a span of fifteen years--to seem the longest period of life1 and therefore the richest in reminiscences4 ,next1 it brings it about that a man is apt to be bored just in proportion as he is young4 ,consider1 for instance1 that constant need of occupation--whether it is work or play--that is shown by children3 if they come to an end of both work and play1 a terrible feeling of boredom ensues4 ,even in youth people are by no means free from this tendency1 and dread the hours when they have nothing to do4 ,as manhood approaches1 boredom disappears2 and old men find the time too short when their days fly past them like arrows from a bow4 ,of course1 ,i must be understood to speak of men1 not of decrepit brutes4 ,with this increased rapidity of time1 boredom mostly passes away as we advance in life2 and as the passions with all their attendant pain are then laid asleep1 the burden of life is1 on the whole1 appreciably lighter in later years than in youth1 provided1 of course1 that health remains4 ,so it is that the period immediately preceding the weakness and troubles of old age1 receives the name of a man's best years4 ,that may be a true appellation1 in view of the comfortable feeling which those years bring2 but for all that the years of youth1 when our consciousness is lively and open to every sort of impression1 have this privilege--that then the seeds are sown and the buds come forth2 it is the springtime of the mind4 ,deep truths may be perceived1 but can never be excogitated--that is to say1 the first knowledge of them is immediate1 called forth by some momentary impression4 ,this knowledge is of such a kind as to be attainable only when the impressions are strong1 lively and deep2 and if we are to be acquainted with deep truths1 everything depends upon a proper use of our early years4 ,in later life1 we may be better able to work upon other people1--upon the world1 because our natures are then finished and rounded off1 and no more a prey to fresh views2 but then the world is less able to work upon us4 ,these are the years of action and achievement2 while youth is the time for forming fundamental conceptions1 and laying down the ground-work of thought4 ,in youth it is the outward aspect of things that most engages us2 while in age1 thought or reflection is the predominating quality of the mind4 ,hence1 youth is the time for poetry1 and age is more inclined to philosophy4 ,in practical affairs it is the same3 a man shapes his resolutions in youth more by the impression that the outward world makes upon him2 whereas1 when he is old1 it is thought that determines his actions4 ,this is partly to be explained by the fact that it is only when a man is old that the results of outward observation are present in sufficient numbers to allow of their being classified according to the ideas they represent1--a process which in its turn causes those ideas to be more fully understood in all their bearings1 and the exact value and amount of trust to be placed in them1 fixed and determined2 while at the same time he has grown accustomed to the impressions produced by the various phenomena of life1 and their effects on him are no longer what they were4 ,contrarily1 in youth1 the impressions that things make1 that is to say1 the outward aspects of life1 are so overpoweringly strong1 especially in the case of people of lively and imaginative disposition1 that they view the world like a picture2 and their chief concern is the figure they cut in it1 the appearance they present2 nay1 they are unaware of the extent to which this is the case4 ,it is a quality of mind that shows itself--if in no other way--in that personal vanity1 and that love of fine clothes1 which distinguish young people4 ,there can be no doubt that the intellectual powers are most capable of enduring great and sustained efforts in youth1 up to the age of thirty-five at latest2 from which period their strength begins to decline1 though very gradually4 ,still1 the later years of life1 and even old age itself1 are not without their intellectual compensation4 ,it is only then that a man can be said to be really rich in experience or in learning2 he has then had time and opportunity enough to enable him to see and think over life from all its sides2 he has been able to compare one thing with another1 and to discover points of contact and connecting links1 so that only then are the true relations of things rightly understood4 ,further1 in old age there comes an increased depth in the knowledge that was acquired in youth2 a man has now many more illustrations of any ideas he may have attained2 things which he thought he knew when he was young1 he now knows in reality4 ,and besides1 his range of knowledge is wider2 and in whatever direction it extends1 it is thorough1 and therefore formed into a consistent and connected whole2 whereas in youth knowledge is always defective and fragmentary4 ,a complete and adequate notion of life can never be attained by any one who does not reach old age2 for it is only the old man who sees life whole and knows its natural course2 it is only he who is acquainted--and this is most important--not only with its entrance1 like the rest of mankind1 but with its exit too2 so that he alone has a full sense of its utter vanity2 whilst the others never cease to labor under the false notion that everything will come right in the end4 ,on the other hand1 there is more conceptive power in youth1 and at that time of life a man can make more out of the little that he knows4 ,in age1 judgment1 penetration and thoroughness predominate4 ,youth is the time for amassing the material for a knowledge of the world that shall be distinctive and peculiar1--for an original view of life1 in other words1 the legacy that a man of genius leaves to his fellow-men2 it is1 however1 only in later years that he becomes master of his material4 ,accordingly it will be found that1 as a rule1 a great writer gives his best work to the world when he is about fifty years of age4 ,but though the tree of knowledge must reach its full height before it can bear fruit1 the roots of it lie in youth4 ,every generation1 no matter how paltry its character1 thinks itself much wiser than the one immediately preceding it1 let alone those that are more remote4 ,it is just the same with the different periods in a man's life2 and yet often1 in the one case no less than in the other1 it is a mistaken opinion4 ,in the years of physical growth1 when our powers of mind and our stores of knowledge are receiving daily additions1 it becomes a habit for to-day to look down with contempt upon yesterday4 ,the habit strikes root1 and remains even after the intellectual powers have begun to decline1--when to-day should rather look up with respect to yesterday4 ,so it is that we often unduly depreciate the achievements as well as the judgments of our youth4 ,this seems the place for making the general observation1 that1 although in its main qualities a man's intellect or head1 as well as his character or heart1 is innate1 yet the former is by no means so unalterable in its nature as the latter4 ,the fact is that the intellect is subject to very many transformations1 which1 as a rule1 do not fail to make their actual appearance2 and this is so1 partly because the intellect has a deep foundation in the physique1 and partly because the material with which it deals is given in experience4 ,and so1 from a physical point of view1 we find that if a man has any peculiar power1 it first gradually increases in strength until it reaches its acme1 after which it enters upon a path of slow decadence1 until it ends in imbecility4 ,but1 on the other hand1 we must not lose sight of the fact that the material which gives employment to a man's powers and keeps them in activity1--the subject-matter of thought and knowledge1 experience1 intellectual attainments1 the practice of seeing to the bottom of things1 and so a perfect mental vision1 form in themselves a mass which continues to increase in size1 until the time comes when weakness shows itself1 and the man's powers suddenly fail4 ,the way in which these two distinguishable elements combine in the same nature1--the one absolutely unalterable1 and the other subject to change in two directions opposed to each other--explains the variety of mental attitude and the dissimilarity of value which attach to a man at different periods of life4 ,the same truth may be more broadly expressed by saying that the first forty years of life furnish the text1 while the remaining thirty supply the commentary2 and that without the commentary we are unable to understand aright the true sense and coherence of the text1 together with the moral it contains and all the subtle application of which it admits4 ,towards the close of life1 much the same thing happens as at the end of a bal masqu--the masks are taken off4 ,then you can see who the people really are1 with whom you have come into contact in your passage through the world4 ,for by the end of life characters have come out in their true light1 actions have borne fruit1 achievements have been rightly appreciated1 and all shams have fallen to pieces4 ,for this1 ,time was in every case requisite4 ,but the most curious fact is that it is also only towards the close of life than a man really recognizes and understands his own true self1--the aims and objects he has followed in life1 more especially the kind of relation in which he has stood to other people and to the world4 ,it will often happen that as a result of this knowledge1 a man will have to assign himself a lower place than he formerly thought was his due4 ,but there are exceptions to this rule2 and it will occasionally be the case that he will take a higher position than he had before4 ,this will be owing to the fact that he had no adequate notion of the baseness of the world1 and that he set up a higher aim for himself than was followed by the rest of mankind4 ,the progress of life shows a man the stuff of which he is made4 ,it is customary to call youth the happy1 and age the sad part of life4 ,this would be true if it were the passions that made a man happy4 ,youth is swayed to and fro by them2 and they give a great deal of pain and little pleasure4 ,in age the passions cool and leave a man at rest1 and then forthwith his mind takes a contemplative tone2 the intellect is set free and attains the upper hand4 ,and since1 in itself1 intellect is beyond the range of pain1 and man feels happy just in so far as his intellect is the predominating part of him4 ,it need only be remembered that all pleasure is negative1 and that pain is positive in its nature1 in order to see that the passions can never be a source of happiness1 and that age is not the less to be envied on the ground that many pleasures are denied it4 ,for every sort of pleasure is never anything more than the quietive of some need or longing2 and that pleasure should come to an end as soon as the need ceases1 is no more a subject of complaint than that a man cannot go on eating after he has had his dinner1 or fall asleep again after a good night's rest4 ,so far from youth being the happiest period of life1 there is much more truth in the remark made by ,plato1 at the beginning of the ,republic1 that the prize should rather be given to old age1 because then at last a man is freed from the animal passion which has hitherto never ceased to disquiet him4 ,nay1 it may even be said that the countless and manifold humors which have their source in this passion1 and the emotions that spring from it1 produce a mild state of madness2 and this lasts as long as the man is subject to the spell of the impulse--this evil spirit1 as it were1 of which there is no riddance--so that he never really becomes a reasonable being until the passion is extinguished4 ,there is no doubt that1 in general1 and apart from individual circumstances and particular dispositions1 youth is marked by a certain melancholy and sadness1 while genial sentiments attach to old age2 and the reason for this is nothing but the fact that the young man is still under the service1 nay1 the forced labor1 imposed by that evil spirit1 which scarcely ever leaves him a moment to himself4 ,to this source may be traced1 directly or indirectly1 almost all and every ill that befalls or menaces mankind4 ,the old man is genial and cheerful because1 after long lying in the bonds of passion1 he can now move about in freedom4 ,still1 it should not be forgotten that1 when this passion is extinguished1 the true kernel of life is gone1 and nothing remains but the hollow shell2 or1 from another point of view1 life then becomes like a comedy1 which1 begun by real actors1 is continued and brought to an end by automata dressed in their clothes4 ,however that may be1 youth is the period of unrest1 and age of repose2 and from that very circumstance1 the relative degree of pleasure belonging to each may be inferred4 ,the child stretches out its little hands in the eager desire to seize all the pretty things that meet its sight1 charmed by the world because all its senses are still so young and fresh4 ,much the same thing happens with the youth1 and he displays greater energy in his quest4 ,he1 too1 is charmed by all the pretty things and the many pleasing shapes that surround him2 and forthwith his imagination conjures up pleasures which the world can never realize4 ,so he is filled with an ardent desire for he knows not what delights--robbing him of all rest and making happiness impossible4 ,but when old age is reached1 all this is over and done with1 partly because the blood runs cooler and the senses are no longer so easily allured2 partly because experience has shown the true value of things and the futility of pleasure1 whereby illusion has been gradually dispelled1 and the strange fancies and prejudices which previously concealed or distorted a free and true view of the world1 have been dissipated and put to flight2 with the result that a man can now get a juster and clearer view1 and see things as they are1 and also in a measure attain more or less insight into the nullity of all things on this earth4 ,it is this that gives almost every old man1 no matter how ordinary his faculties may be1 a certain tincture of wisdom1 which distinguishes him from the young4 ,but the chief result of all this change is the peace of mind that ensues--a great element in happiness1 and1 in fact1 the condition and essence of it4 ,while the young man fancies that there is a vast amount of good things in the world1 if he could only come at them1 the old man is steeped in the truth of the ,preacher's words1 that all things are vanity--knowing that1 however gilded the shell1 the nut is hollow4 ,in these later years1 and not before1 a man comes to a true appreciation of ,horace's maxim3 ,nil admirari4 ,he is directly and sincerely convinced of the vanity of everything and that all the glories of the world are as nothing3 his illusions are gone4 ,he is no more beset with the idea that there is any particular amount of happiness anywhere1 in the palace or in the cottage1 any more than he himself enjoys when he is free from bodily or mental pain4 ,the worldly distinctions of great and small1 high and low1 exist for him no longer2 and in this blissful state of mind the old man may look down with a smile upon all false notions4 ,he is completely undeceived1 and knows that whatever may be done to adorn human life and deck it out in finery1 its paltry character will soon show through the glitter of its surroundings2 and that1 paint and be jewel it as one may1 it remains everywhere much the same1--an existence which has no true value except in freedom from pain1 and is never to be estimated by the presence of pleasure1 let alone1 then1 of display4#a ,footnote #a3 ,cf4 ,horace1 ,epist4 ,i4 #ab1 ,i-#d4 ,disillusion is the chief characteristic of old age2 for by that time the fictions are gone which gave life its charm and spurred on the mind to activity2 the splendors of the world have been proved null and vain2 its pomp1 grandeur and magnificence are faded4 ,a man has then found out that behind most of the things he wants1 and most of the pleasures he longs for1 there is very little after all2 and so he comes by degrees to see that our existence is all empty and void4 ,it is only when he is seventy years old that he quite understands the first words of the ,preacher2 and this again explains why it is that old men are sometimes fretful and morose4 ,it is often said that the common lot of old age is disease and weariness of life4 ,disease is by no means essential to old age2 especially where a really long span of years is to be attained2 for as life goes on1 the conditions of health and disorder tend to increase--crescente vita1 crescit sanitas et morbus4 ,and as far as weariness or boredom is concerned1 ,i have stated above why old age is even less exposed to that form of evil than youth4 ,nor is boredom by any means to be taken as a necessary accompaniment of that solitude1 which1 for reasons that do not require to be explained1 old age certainly cannot escape2 it is rather the fate that awaits those who have never known any other pleasures but the gratification of the senses and the delights of society--who have left their minds unenlightened and their faculties unused4 ,it is quite true that the intellectual faculties decline with the approach of old age2 but where they were originally strong1 there will always be enough left to combat the onslaught of boredom4 ,and then again1 as ,i have said1 experience1 knowledge1 reflection1 and skill in dealing with men1 combine to give an old man an increasingly accurate insight into the ways of the world2 his judgment becomes keen and he attains a coherent view of life3 his mental vision embraces a wider range4 ,constantly finding new uses for his stores of knowledge and adding to them at every opportunity1 he maintains uninterrupted that inward process of self-education1 which gives employment and satisfaction to the mind1 and thus forms the due reward of all its efforts4 ,all this serves in some measure as a compensation for decreased intellectual power4 ,and besides1 ,time1 as ,i have remarked1 seems to go much more quickly when we are advanced in years2 and this is in itself a preventive of boredom4 ,there is no great harm in the fact that a man's bodily strength decreases in old age1 unless1 indeed1 he requires it to make a living4 ,to be poor when one is old1 is a great misfortune4 ,if a man is secure from that1 and retains his health1 old age may be a very passable time of life4 ,its chief necessity is to be comfortable and well off2 and1 in consequence1 money is then prized more than ever1 because it is a substitute for failing strength4 ,deserted by ,venus1 the old man likes to turn to ,bacchus to make him merry4 ,in the place of wanting to see things1 to travel and learn1 comes the desire to speak and teach4 ,it is a piece of good fortune if the old man retains some of his love of study or of music or of the theatre1--if1 in general1 he is still somewhat susceptible to the things about him2 as is1 indeed1 the case with some people to a very late age4 ,at that time of life1 what a man has in himself is of greater advantage to him that ever it was before4 ,there can be no doubt that most people who have never been anything but dull and stupid1 become more and more of automata as they grow old4 ,they have always thought1 said and done the same things as their neighbors2 and nothing that happens now can change their disposition1 or make them act otherwise4 ,to talk to old people of this kind is like writing on the sand2 if you produce any impression at all1 it is gone almost immediately2 old age is here nothing but the caput mortuum of life--all that is essential to manhood is gone4 ,there are cases in which nature supplies a third set of teeth in old age1 thereby apparently demonstrating the fact that that period of life is a second childhood4 ,it is certainly a very melancholy thing that all a man's faculties tend to waste away as he grows old1 and at a rate that increases in rapidity3 but still1 this is a necessary1 nay1 a beneficial arrangement1 as otherwise death1 for which it is a preparation1 would be too hard to bear4 ,so the greatest boon that follows the attainment of extreme old age is euthanasia1--an easy death1 not ushered in by disease1 and free from all pain and struggle4#a ,for let a man live as long as he may1 he is never conscious of any moment but the present1 one and indivisible2 and in those late years the mind loses more every day by sheer forgetfulness than ever it gains anew4 ,footnote #a3 ,see ,die ,welt als ,wille und ,vorstellung1 ,bk4 ,,ii4 ch4 #da1 for a further description of this happy end to life4 ,the main difference between youth and age will always be that youth looks forward to life1 and old age to death2 and that while the one has a short past and a long future before it1 the case is just the opposite with the other4 ,it is quite true that when a man is old1 to die is the only thing that awaits him2 while if he is young1 he may expect to live2 and the question arises which of the two fates is the more hazardous1 and if life is not a matter which1 on the whole1 it is better to have behind one than before8 ,does not the ,preacher say3 the day of death is better than the day of one's birth4#a ,it is certainly a rash thing to wish for long life2#b for as the ,spanish proverb has it1 it means to see much evil1--,quien larga vida vive mucho mal vide4 ,footnote #a3 ,ecclesiastes vii4 #a4 ,footnote #b3 ,the life of man cannot1 strictly speaking1 be called either long or short1 since it is the ultimate standard by which duration of time in regard to all other things is measured4 ,in one of the ,vedic ,upanishads 7,oupnekhat1 ,,ii47 the natural length of human life is put down at one hundred years4 ,and ,i believe this to be right4 ,i have observed1 as a matter of fact1 that it is only people who exceed the age of ninety who attain euthanasia1--who die1 that is to say1 of no disease1 apoplexy or convulsion1 and pass away without agony of any sort2 nay1 who sometimes even show no pallor1 but expire generally in a sitting attitude1 and often after a meal1--or1 ,i may say1 simply cease to live rather than die4 ,to come to one's end before the age of ninety1 means to die of disease1 in other words1 prematurely4 ,now the ,old ,testament 7,psalms xc4 #aj7 puts the limit of human life at seventy1 and if it is very long1 at eighty years2 and what is more noticeable still1 ,herodotus 7i4 #cb and iii4 #bb7 says the same thing4 ,but this is wrong2 and the error is due simply to a rough and superficial estimate of the results of daily experience4 ,for if the natural length of life were from seventy to eighty years1 people would die1 about that time1 of mere old age4 ,now this is certainly not the case4 ,if they die then1 they die1 like younger people1 of disease2 and disease is something abnormal4 ,therefore it is not natural to die at that age4 ,it is only when they are between ninety and a hundred that people die of old age2 die1 ,i mean1 without suffering from any disease1 or showing any special signs of their condition1 such as a struggle1 death-rattle1 convulsion1 pallor1--the absence of all which constitutes euthanasia4 ,the natural length of human life is a hundred years2 and in assigning that limit the ,upanishads are right once more4 ,a man's individual career is not1 as ,astrology wishes to make out1 to be predicted from observation of the planets2 but the course of human life in general1 as far as the various periods of it are concerned1 may be likened to the succession of the planets3 so that we may be said to pass under the influence of each one of them in turn4 ,at ten1 ,mercury is in the ascendant2 and at that age1 a youth1 like this planet1 is characterized by extreme mobility within a narrow sphere1 where trifles have a great effect upon him2 but under the guidance of so crafty and eloquent a god1 he easily makes great progress4 ,venus begins her sway during his twentieth year1 and then a man is wholly given up to the love of women4 ,at thirty1 ,mars comes to the front1 and he is now all energy and strength1--daring1 pugnacious and arrogant4 ,when a man reaches the age of forty1 he is under the rule of the four ,asteroids2 that is to say1 his life has gained something in extension4 ,he is frugal2 in other words1 by the help of ,ceres1 he favors what is useful2 he has his own hearth1 by the influence of ,vesta2 ,pallas has taught him that which is necessary for him to know2 and his wife--his ,juno--rules as the mistress of his house4 ,but at the age of fifty1 ,jupiter is the dominant influence4 ,at that period a man has outlived most of his contemporaries1 and he can feel himself superior to the generation about him4 ,he is still in the full enjoyment of his strength1 and rich in experience and knowledge2 and if he has any power and position of his own1 he is endowed with authority over all who stand in his immediate surroundings4 ,he is no more inclined to receive orders from others2 he wants to take command himself4 ,the work most suitable to him now is to guide and rule within his own sphere4 ,this is the point where ,jupiter culminates1 and where the man of fifty years is at his best4 ,then comes ,saturn1 at about the age of sixty1 a weight as of lead1 dull and slow3-- ,but old folks1 many feign as they were dead2 ,unwieldy1 slow1 heavy and pale as lead4 ,last of all1 ,uranus2 or1 as the saying is1 a man goes to heaven4 ,i cannot find a place for ,neptune1 as this planet has been very thoughtlessly named2 because ,i may not call it as it should be called--,eros4 ,otherwise ,i should point out how ,beginning and ,end meet together1 and how closely and intimately ,eros is connected with ,death3 how ,orcus1 or ,amenthes1 as the ,egyptians called him1 is not only the receiver but the giver of all things--,greek3 lambanon kai didous4 ,death is the great reservoir of ,life4 ,everything comes from ,orcus2 everything that is alive now was once there4 ,could we but understand the great trick by which that is done1 all would be clear6