,,the ,,essays ,,of ,,arthur ,,schopenhauer ,,translated ,,by ,t4 ,,bailey ,,saunders1 ,m4,a4 ,,the ,,wisdom ,,of ,,life4 ,,contents4 ,,chapter ,,introduction ,i4 ,,division ,,of ,,the ,,subject ,,ii4 ,,personality1 ,,or ,,what ,a ,,man ,,is ,,iii4 ,,property1 ,,or ,,what ,a ,,man ,,has ,,iv4 ,,position1 ,,or ,a ,,man',s ,,place ,,in ,,the ,,estimation ,,of ,,others-- ,sect4 #a4 ,reputation #b4 ,pride #c4 ,rank #d4 ,honor #e4 ,fame ,,introduction4 ,in these pages ,i shall speak of ,the ,wisdom of ,life in the common meaning of the term1 as the art1 namely1 of ordering our lives so as to obtain the greatest possible amount of pleasure and success2 an art the theory of which may be called ,eudaemonology1 for it teaches us how to lead a happy existence4 ,such an existence might perhaps be defined as one which1 looked at from a purely objective point of view1 or1 rather1 after cool and mature reflection--for the question necessarily involves subjective considerations1--would be decidedly preferable to non-existence2 implying that we should cling to it for its own sake1 and not merely from the fear of death2 and further1 that we should never like it to come to an end4 ,now whether human life corresponds1 or could possibly correspond1 to this conception of existence1 is a question to which1 as is well-known1 my philosophical system returns a negative answer4 ,on the eudaemonistic hypothesis1 however1 the question must be answered in the affirmative2 and ,i have shown1 in the second volume of my chief work 7ch4 #di71 that this hypothesis is based upon a fundamental mistake4 ,accordingly1 in elaborating the scheme of a happy existence1 ,i have had to make a complete surrender of the higher metaphysical and ethical standpoint to which my own theories lead2 and everything ,i shall say here will to some extent rest upon a compromise2 in so far1 that is1 as ,i take the common standpoint of every day1 and embrace the error which is at the bottom of it4 ,my remarks1 therefore1 will possess only a qualified value1 for the very word eudaemonology is a euphemism4 ,further1 ,i make no claims to completeness2 partly because the subject is inexhaustible1 and partly because ,i should otherwise have to say over again what has been already said by others4 ,the only book composed1 as far as ,i remember1 with a like purpose to that which animates this collection of aphorisms1 is ,cardan's ,de utilitate ex adversis capienda1 which is well worth reading1 and may be used to supplement the present work4 ,aristotle1 it is true1 has a few words on eudaemonology in the fifth chapter of the first book of his ,rhetoric2 but what he says does not come to very much4 ,as compilation is not my business1 ,i have made no use of these predecessors2 more especially because in the process of compiling1 individuality of view is lost1 and individuality of view is the kernel of works of this kind4 ,in general1 indeed1 the wise in all ages have always said the same thing1 and the fools1 who at all times form the immense majority1 have in their way too acted alike1 and done just the opposite2 and so it will continue4 ,for1 as ,voltaire says1 we shall leave this world as foolish and as wicked as we found it on our arrival4 ,,the ,,wisdom ,,of ,,life4 ,,chapter ,i4 ,,division ,,of ,,the ,,subject4 ,aristotle#a divides the blessings of life into three classes--those which come to us from without1 those of the soul1 and those of the body4 ,keeping nothing of this division but the number1 ,i observe that the fundamental differences in human lot may be reduced to three distinct classes3 ,footnote #a3 ,eth4 ,nichom41 ,i4 #h4 7#a7 ,what a man is3 that is to say1 personality1 in the widest sense of the word2 under which are included health1 strength1 beauty1 temperament1 moral character1 intelligence1 and education4 7#b7 ,what a man has3 that is1 property and possessions of every kind4 7#c7 ,how a man stands in the estimation of others3 by which is to be understood1 as everybody knows1 what a man is in the eyes of his fellowmen1 or1 more strictly1 the light in which they regard him4 ,this is shown by their opinion of him2 and their opinion is in its turn manifested by the honor in which he is held1 and by his rank and reputation4 ,the differences which come under the first head are those which ,nature herself has set between man and man2 and from this fact alone we may at once infer that they influence the happiness or unhappiness of mankind in a much more vital and radical way than those contained under the two following heads1 which are merely the effect of human arrangements4 ,compared with genuine personal advantages1 such as a great mind or a great heart1 all the privileges of rank or birth1 even of royal birth1 are but as kings on the stage1 to kings in real life4 ,the same thing was said long ago by ,metrodorus1 the earliest disciple of ,epicurus1 who wrote as the title of one of his chapters1 ,the happiness we receive from ourselves is greater than that which we obtain from our surroundings#a ,and it is an obvious fact1 which cannot be called in question1 that the principal element in a man's well-being1--indeed1 in the whole tenor of his existence1--is what he is made of1 his inner constitution4 ,for this is the immediate source of that inward satisfaction or dissatisfaction resulting from the sum total of his sensations1 desires and thoughts2 whilst his surroundings1 on the other hand1 exert only a mediate or indirect influence upon him4 ,this is why the same external events or circumstances affect no two people alike2 even with perfectly similar surroundings every one lives in a world of his own4 ,for a man has immediate apprehension only of his own ideas1 feelings and volitions2 the outer world can influence him only in so far as it brings these to life4 ,the world in which a man lives shapes itself chiefly by the way in which he looks at it1 and so it proves different to different men2 to one it is barren1 dull1 and superficial2 to another rich1 interesting1 and full of meaning4 ,on hearing of the interesting events which have happened in the course of a man's experience1 many people will wish that similar things had happened in their lives too1 completely forgetting that they should be envious rather of the mental aptitude which lent those events the significance they possess when he describes them2 to a man of genius they were interesting adventures2 but to the dull perceptions of an ordinary individual they would have been stale1 everyday occurrences4 ,this is in the highest degree the case with many of ,goethe's and ,byron's poems1 which are obviously founded upon actual facts2 where it is open to a foolish reader to envy the poet because so many delightful things happened to him1 instead of envying that mighty power of phantasy which was capable of turning a fairly common experience into something so great and beautiful4 ,footnote #a3 ,cf4 ,clemens ,alex4 ,strom4 ,,ii41 #ba4 ,in the same way1 a person of melancholy temperament will make a scene in a tragedy out of what appears to the sanguine man only in the light of an interesting conflict1 and to a phlegmatic soul as something without any meaning2--all of which rests upon the fact that every event1 in order to be realized and appreciated1 requires the co-operation of two factors1 namely1 a subject and an object1 although these are as closely and necessarily connected as oxygen and hydrogen in water4 ,when therefore the objective or external factor in an experience is actually the same1 but the subjective or personal appreciation of it varies1 the event is just as much a different one in the eyes of different persons as if the objective factors had not been alike2 for to a blunt intelligence the fairest and best object in the world presents only a poor reality1 and is therefore only poorly appreciated1--like a fine landscape in dull weather1 or in the reflection of a bad camera obscura4 ,in plain language1 every man is pent up within the limits of his own consciousness1 and cannot directly get beyond those limits any more than he can get beyond his own skin2 so external aid is not of much use to him4 ,on the stage1 one man is a prince1 another a minister1 a third a servant or a soldier or a general1 and so on1--mere external differences3 the inner reality1 the kernel of all these appearances is the same--a poor player1 with all the anxieties of his lot4 ,in life it is just the same4 ,differences of rank and wealth give every man his part to play1 but this by no means implies a difference of inward happiness and pleasure2 here1 too1 there is the same being in all--a poor mortal1 with his hardships and troubles4 ,though these may1 indeed1 in every case proceed from dissimilar causes1 they are in their essential nature much the same in all their forms1 with degrees of intensity which vary1 no doubt1 but in no wise correspond to the part a man has to play1 to the presence or absence of position and wealth4 ,since everything which exists or happens for a man exists only in his consciousness and happens for it alone1 the most essential thing for a man is the constitution of this consciousness1 which is in most cases far more important than the circumstances which go to form its contents4 ,all the pride and pleasure of the world1 mirrored in the dull consciousness of a fool1 are poor indeed compared with the imagination of ,cervantes writing his ,don ,quixote in a miserable prison4 ,the objective half of life and reality is in the hand of fate1 and accordingly takes various forms in different cases3 the subjective half is ourself1 and in essentials is always remains the same4 ,hence the life of every man is stamped with the same character throughout1 however much his external circumstances may alter2 it is like a series of variations on a single theme4 ,no one can get beyond his own individuality4 ,an animal1 under whatever circumstances it is placed1 remains within the narrow limits to which nature has irrevocably consigned it2 so that our endeavors to make a pet happy must always keep within the compass of its nature1 and be restricted to what it can feel4 ,so it is with man2 the measure of the happiness he can attain is determined beforehand by his individuality4 ,more especially is this the case with the mental powers1 which fix once for all his capacity for the higher kinds of pleasure4 ,if these powers are small1 no efforts from without1 nothing that his fellowmen or that fortune can do for him1 will suffice to raise him above the ordinary degree of human happiness and pleasure1 half animal though it be2 his only resources are his sensual appetite1--a cozy and cheerful family life at the most1--low company and vulgar pastime2 even education1 on the whole1 can avail little1 if anything1 for the enlargement of his horizon4 ,for the highest1 most varied and lasting pleasures are those of the mind1 however much our youth may deceive us on this point2 and the pleasures of the mind turn chiefly on the powers of the mind4 ,it is clear1 then1 that our happiness depends in a great degree upon what we are1 upon our individuality1 whilst lot or destiny is generally taken to mean only what we have1 or our reputation4 ,our lot1 in this sense1 may improve2 but we do not ask much of it if we are inwardly rich3 on the other hand1 a fool remains a fool1 a dull blockhead1 to his last hour1 even though he were surrounded by houris in paradise4 ,this is why ,goethe1 in the ,west-stliclien ,divan1 says that every man1 whether he occupies a low position in life1 or emerges as its victor1 testifies to personality as the greatest factor in happiness3-- ,volk und ,knecht und ,uberwinder ,sie gestehen1 zu jeder ,zeit1 ,hchtes ,glck der ,erdenkinder ,sei nur die ,persnlichkeit4 ,everything confirms the fact that the subjective element in life is incomparably more important for our happiness and pleasure than the objective1 from such sayings as ,hunger is the best sauce1 and ,youth and ,age cannot live together1 up to the life of the ,genius and the ,saint4 ,health outweighs all other blessings so much that one may really say that a healthy beggar is happier than an ailing king4 ,a quiet and cheerful temperament1 happy in the enjoyment of a perfectly sound physique1 an intellect clear1 lively1 penetrating and seeing things as they are1 a moderate and gentle will1 and therefore a good conscience--these are privileges which no rank or wealth can make up for or replace4 ,for what a man is in himself1 what accompanies him when he is alone1 what no one can give or take away1 is obviously more essential to him than everything he has in the way of possessions1 or even what he may be in the eyes of the world4 ,an intellectual man in complete solitude has excellent entertainment in his own thoughts and fancies1 while no amount of diversity or social pleasure1 theatres1 excursions and amusements1 can ward off boredom from a dullard4 ,a good1 temperate1 gentle character can be happy in needy circumstances1 whilst a covetous1 envious and malicious man1 even if he be the richest in the world1 goes miserable4 ,nay more2 to one who has the constant delight of a special individuality1 with a high degree of intellect1 most of the pleasures which are run after by mankind are simply superfluous2 they are even a trouble and a burden4 ,and so ,horace says of himself1 that1 however many are deprived of the fancy-goods of life1 there is one at least who can live without them3-- ,gemmas1 marmor1 ebur1 ,tyrrhena sigilla1 tabellas1 ,argentum1 vestes1 ,gaetulo murice tinctas ,sunt qui non habeant1 est qui non curat habere2 and when ,socrates saw various articles of luxury spread out for sale1 he exclaimed3 ,how much there is in the world ,i do not want4 ,so the first and most essential element in our life's happiness is what we are1--our personality1 if for no other reason than that it is a constant factor coming into play under all circumstances3 besides1 unlike the blessings which are described under the other two heads1 it is not the sport of destiny and cannot be wrested from us2--and1 so far1 it is endowed with an absolute value in contrast to the merely relative worth of the other two4 ,the consequence of this is that it is much more difficult than people commonly suppose to get a hold on a man from without4 ,but here the all-powerful agent1 ,time1 comes in and claims its rights1 and before its influence physical and mental advantages gradually waste away4 ,moral character alone remains inaccessible to it4 ,in view of the destructive effect of time1 it seems1 indeed1 as if the blessings named under the other two heads1 of which time cannot directly rob us1 were superior to those of the first4 ,another advantage might be claimed for them1 namely1 that being in their very nature objective and external1 they are attainable1 and every one is presented with the possibility1 at least1 of coming into possession of them2 whilst what is subjective is not open to us to acquire1 but making its entry by a kind of divine right1 it remains for life1 immutable1 inalienable1 an inexorable doom4 ,let me quote those lines in which ,goethe describes how an unalterable destiny is assigned to every man at the hour of his birth1 so that he can develop only in the lines laid down for him1 as it were1 by the conjunctions of the stars3 and how the ,sybil and the prophets declare that himself a man can never escape1 nor any power of time avail to change the path on which his life is cast3-- ,wie an dem ,tag1 der dich der ,welt verliehen1 ,de ,sonne stand zum ,grusse der ,planeten1 ,bist alsobald und fort und fort gediehen1 ,nach dem ,gesetz1 wonach du angetreten4 ,so musst du sein1 dir kannst du nicht entfliehen1 ,so tagten schon ,sybillen und ,propheten2 ,und keine ,zeit1 und keine ,macht zerstckelt ,geprgte ,form1 die lebend sich entwickelt4 ,the only thing that stands in our power to achieve1 is to make the most advantageous use possible of the personal qualities we possess1 and accordingly to follow such pursuits only as will call them into play1 to strive after the kind of perfection of which they admit and to avoid every other2 consequently1 to choose the position1 occupation and manner of life which are most suitable for their development4 ,imagine a man endowed with herculean strength who is compelled by circumstances to follow a sedentary occupation1 some minute exquisite work of the hands1 for example1 or to engage in study and mental labor demanding quite other powers1 and just those which he has not got1--compelled1 that is1 to leave unused the powers in which he is pre-eminently strong2 a man placed like this will never feel happy all his life through4 ,even more miserable will be the lot of the man with intellectual powers of a very high order1 who has to leave them undeveloped and unemployed1 in the pursuit of a calling which does not require them1 some bodily labor1 perhaps1 for which his strength is insufficient4 ,still1 in a case of this kind1 it should be our care1 especially in youth1 to avoid the precipice of presumption1 and not ascribe to ourselves a superfluity of power which is not there4 ,since the blessings described under the first head decidedly outweigh those contained under the other two1 it is manifestly a wiser course to aim at the maintenance of our health and the cultivation of our faculties1 than at the amassing of wealth2 but this must not be mistaken as meaning that we should neglect to acquire an adequate supply of the necessaries of life4 ,wealth1 in the strict sense of the word1 that is1 great superfluity1 can do little for our happiness2 and many rich people feel unhappy just because they are without any true mental culture or knowledge1 and consequently have no objective interests which would qualify them for intellectual occupations4 ,for beyond the satisfaction of some real and natural necessities1 all that the possession of wealth can achieve has a very small influence upon our happiness1 in the proper sense of the word2 indeed1 wealth rather disturbs it1 because the preservation of property entails a great many unavoidable anxieties4 ,and still men are a thousand times more intent on becoming rich than on acquiring culture1 though it is quite certain that what a man is contributes much more to his happiness than what he has4 ,so you may see many a man1 as industrious as an ant1 ceaselessly occupied from morning to night in the endeavor to increase his heap of gold4 ,beyond the narrow horizon of means to this end1 he knows nothing2 his mind is a blank1 and consequently unsusceptible to any other influence4 ,the highest pleasures1 those of the intellect1 are to him inaccessible1 and he tries in vain to replace them by the fleeting pleasures of sense in which he indulges1 lasting but a brief hour and at tremendous cost4 ,and if he is lucky1 his struggles result in his having a really great pile of gold1 which he leaves to his heir1 either to make it still larger1 or to squander it in extravagance4 ,a life like this1 though pursued with a sense of earnestness and an air of importance1 is just as silly as many another which has a fool's cap for its symbol4 ,what a man has in himself is1 then1 the chief element in his happiness4 ,because this is1 as a rule1 so very little1 most of those who are placed beyond the struggle with penury feel at bottom quite as unhappy as those who are still engaged in it4 ,their minds are vacant1 their imagination dull1 their spirits poor1 and so they are driven to the company of those like them--for similis simili gaudet--where they make common pursuit of pastime and entertainment1 consisting for the most part in sensual pleasure1 amusement of every kind1 and finally1 in excess and libertinism4 ,a young man of rich family enters upon life with a large patrimony1 and often runs through it in an incredibly short space of time1 in vicious extravagance2 and why8 ,simply because1 here too1 the mind is empty and void1 and so the man is bored with existence4 ,he was sent forth into the world outwardly rich but inwardly poor1 and his vain endeavor was to make his external wealth compensate for his inner poverty1 by trying to obtain everything from without1 like an old man who seeks to strengthen himself as ,king ,david or ,marchal de ,rex tried to do4 ,and so in the end one who is inwardly poor comes to be also poor outwardly4 ,i need not insist upon the importance of the other two kinds of blessings which make up the happiness of human life2 now-a-days the value of possessing them is too well known to require advertisement4 ,the third class1 it is true1 may seem1 compared with the second1 of a very ethereal character1 as it consists only of other people's opinions4 ,still every one has to strive for reputation1 that is to say1 a good name4 ,rank1 on the other hand1 should be aspired to only by those who serve the state1 and fame by very few indeed4 ,in any case1 reputation is looked upon as a priceless treasure1 and fame as the most precious of all the blessings a man can attain1--the ,golden ,fleece1 as it were1 of the elect3 whilst only fools will prefer rank to property4 ,the second and third classes1 moreover1 are reciprocally cause and effect2 so far1 that is1 as ,petronius' maxim1 habes habeberis1 is true2 and conversely1 the favor of others1 in all its forms1 often puts us in the way of getting what we want4 ,,chapter ,,ii4 ,,personality1 ,,or ,,what ,a ,,man ,,is4 ,we have already seen1 in general1 that what a man is contributes much more to his happiness than what he has1 or how he is regarded by others4 ,what a man is1 and so what he has in his own person1 is always the chief thing to consider2 for his individuality accompanies him always and everywhere1 and gives its color to all his experiences4 ,in every kind of enjoyment1 for instance1 the pleasure depends principally upon the man himself4 ,every one admits this in regard to physical1 and how much truer it is of intellectual1 pleasure4 ,when we use that ,english expression1 to enjoy one's self1 we are employing a very striking and appropriate phrase2 for observe--one says1 not he enjoys ,paris1 but he enjoys himself in ,paris4 ,to a man possessed of an ill-conditioned individuality1 all pleasure is like delicate wine in a mouth made bitter with gall4 ,therefore1 in the blessings as well as in the ills of life1 less depends upon what befalls us than upon the way in which it is met1 that is1 upon the kind and degree of our general susceptibility4 ,what a man is and has in himself1--in a word personality1 with all it entails1 is the only immediate and direct factor in his happiness and welfare4 ,all else is mediate and indirect1 and its influence can be neutralized and frustrated2 but the influence of personality never4 ,this is why the envy which personal qualities excite is the most implacable of all1--as it is also the most carefully dissembled4 ,further1 the constitution of our consciousness is the ever present and lasting element in all we do or suffer2 our individuality is persistently at work1 more or less1 at every moment of our life3 all other influences are temporal1 incidental1 fleeting1 and subject to every kind of chance and change4 ,this is why ,aristotle says3 ,it is not wealth but character that lasts4#a ,greek3 --hae gar phusis bebion ou ta chraemata ,footnote #a3 ,eth4 ,eud41 vii4 #b4 #cg3 ,and just for the same reason we can more easily bear a misfortune which comes to us entirely from without1 than one which we have drawn upon ourselves2 for fortune may always change1 but not character4 ,therefore1 subjective blessings1--a noble nature1 a capable head1 a joyful temperament1 bright spirits1 a well-constituted1 perfectly sound physique1 in a word1 mens sana in corpore sano1 are the first and most important elements in happiness2 so that we should be more intent on promoting and preserving such qualities than on the possession of external wealth and external honor4 ,and of all these1 the one which makes us the most directly happy is a genial flow of good spirits2 for this excellent quality is its own immediate reward4 ,the man who is cheerful and merry has always a good reason for being so1--the fact1 namely1 that he is so4 ,there is nothing which1 like this quality1 can so completely replace the loss of every other blessing4 ,if you know anyone who is young1 handsome1 rich and esteemed1 and you want to know1 further1 if he is happy1 ask1 ,is he cheerful and genial8--and if he is1 what does it matter whether he is young or old1 straight or humpbacked1 poor or rich8--he is happy4 ,in my early days ,i once opened an old book and found these words3 ,if you laugh a great deal1 you are happy2 if you cry a great deal1 you are unhappy2--a very simple remark1 no doubt2 but just because it is so simple ,i have never been able to forget it1 even though it is in the last degree a truism4 ,so if cheerfulness knocks at our door1 we should throw it wide open1 for it never comes inopportunely2 instead of that1 we often make scruples about letting it in4 ,we want to be quite sure that we have every reason to be contented2 then we are afraid that cheerfulness of spirits may interfere with serious reflections or weighty cares4 ,cheerfulness is a direct and immediate gain1--the very coin1 as it were1 of happiness1 and not1 like all else1 merely a cheque upon the bank2 for it alone makes us immediately happy in the present moment1 and that is the highest blessing for beings like us1 whose existence is but an infinitesimal moment between two eternities4 ,to secure and promote this feeling of cheerfulness should be the supreme aim of all our endeavors after happiness4 ,now it is certain that nothing contributes so little to cheerfulness as riches1 or so much1 as health4 ,is it not in the lower classes1 the so-called working classes1 more especially those of them who live in the country1 that we see cheerful and contented faces8 and is it not amongst the rich1 the upper classes1 that we find faces full of ill-humor and vexation8 ,consequently we should try as much as possible to maintain a high degree of health2 for cheerfulness is the very flower of it4 ,i need hardly say what one must do to be healthy--avoid every kind of excess1 all violent and unpleasant emotion1 all mental overstrain1 take daily exercise in the open air1 cold baths and such like hygienic measures4 ,for without a proper amount of daily exercise no one can remain healthy2 all the processes of life demand exercise for the due performance of their functions1 exercise not only of the parts more immediately concerned1 but also of the whole body4 ,for1 as ,aristotle rightly says1 ,life is movement2 it is its very essence4 ,ceaseless and rapid motion goes on in every part of the organism4 ,the heart1 with its complicated double systole and diastole1 beats strongly and untiringly2 with twenty-eight beats it has to drive the whole of the blood through arteries1 veins and capillaries2 the lungs pump like a steam-engine1 without intermission2 the intestines are always in peristaltic action2 the glands are all constantly absorbing and secreting2 even the brain has a double motion of its own1 with every beat of the pulse and every breath we draw4 ,when people can get no exercise at all1 as is the case with the countless numbers who are condemned to a sedentary life1 there is a glaring and fatal disproportion between outward inactivity and inner tumult4 ,for this ceaseless internal motion requires some external counterpart1 and the want of it produces effects like those of emotion which we are obliged to suppress4 ,even trees must be shaken by the wind1 if they are to thrive4 ,the rule which finds its application here may be most briefly expressed in ,latin3 omnis motus1 quo celerior1 eo magis motus4 ,how much our happiness depends upon our spirits1 and these again upon our state of health1 may be seen by comparing the influence which the same external circumstances or events have upon us when we are well and strong with the effects which they have when we are depressed and troubled with ill-health4 ,it is not what things are objectively and in themselves1 but what they are for us1 in our way of looking at them1 that makes us happy or the reverse4 ,as ,epictetus says1 ,men are not influenced by things1 but by their thoughts about things4 ,and1 in general1 nine-tenths of our happiness depends upon health alone4 ,with health1 everything is a source of pleasure2 without it1 nothing else1 whatever it may be1 is enjoyable2 even the other personal blessings1--a great mind1 a happy temperament--are degraded and dwarfed for want of it4 ,so it is really with good reason that1 when two people meet1 the first thing they do is to inquire after each other's health1 and to express the hope that it is good2 for good health is by far the most important element in human happiness4 ,it follows from all this that the greatest of follies is to sacrifice health for any other kind of happiness1 whatever it may be1 for gain1 advancement1 learning or fame1 let alone1 then1 for fleeting sensual pleasures4 ,everything else should rather be postponed to it4 ,but however much health may contribute to that flow of good spirits which is so essential to our happiness1 good spirits do not entirely depend upon health2 for a man may be perfectly sound in his physique and still possess a melancholy temperament and be generally given up to sad thoughts4 ,the ultimate cause of this is undoubtedly to be found in innate1 and therefore unalterable1 physical constitution1 especially in the more or less normal relation of a man's sensitiveness to his muscular and vital energy4 ,abnormal sensitiveness produces inequality of spirits1 a predominating melancholy1 with periodical fits of unrestrained liveliness4 ,a genius is one whose nervous power or sensitiveness is largely in excess2 as ,aristotle#a has very correctly observed1 ,men distinguished in philosophy1 politics1 poetry or art appear to be all of a melancholy temperament4 ,this is doubtless the passage which ,cicero has in his mind when he says1 as he often does1 ,aristoteles ait omnes ingeniosos melancholicos esse4#b ,shakespeare has very neatly expressed this radical and innate diversity of temperament in those lines in ,the ,merchant of ,venice3 ,footnote #a3 ,probl4 xxx41 ep4 #a ,footnote #b3 ,tusc4 i41 #cc4 ,nature has framed strange fellows in her time2 ,some that will evermore peep through their eyes1 ,and laugh1 like parrots at a bag-piper2 ,and others of such vinegar aspect1 ,that they'll not show their teeth in way of smile1 ,though ,nestor swear the jest be laughable4 ,this is the difference which ,plato draws between ,greek3 eukolos and ,greek3 dyskolos--the man of easy1 and the man of difficult disposition--in proof of which he refers to the varying degrees of susceptibility which different people show to pleasurable and painful impressions2 so that one man will laugh at what makes another despair4 ,as a rule1 the stronger the susceptibility to unpleasant impressions1 the weaker is the susceptibility to pleasant ones1 and vice versa4 ,if it is equally possible for an event to turn out well or ill1 the ,greek3 dyskolos will be annoyed or grieved if the issue is unfavorable1 and will not rejoice1 should it be happy4 ,on the other hand1 the ,greek3 eukolos will neither worry nor fret over an unfavorable issue1 but rejoice if it turns out well4 ,if the one is successful in nine out of ten undertakings1 he will not be pleased1 but rather annoyed that one has miscarried2 whilst the other1 if only a single one succeeds1 will manage to find consolation in the fact and remain cheerful4 ,but here is another instance of the truth1 that hardly any evil is entirely without its compensation2 for the misfortunes and sufferings which the ,greek3 auskoloi1 that is1 people of gloomy and anxious character1 have to overcome1 are1 on the whole1 more imaginary and therefore less real than those which befall the gay and careless2 for a man who paints everything black1 who constantly fears the worst and takes measures accordingly1 will not be disappointed so often in this world1 as one who always looks upon the bright side of things4 ,and when a morbid affection of the nerves1 or a derangement of the digestive organs1 plays into the hands of an innate tendency to gloom1 this tendency may reach such a height that permanent discomfort produces a weariness of life4 ,so arises an inclination to suicide1 which even the most trivial unpleasantness may actually bring about2 nay1 when the tendency attains its worst form1 it may be occasioned by nothing in particular1 but a man may resolve to put an end to his existence1 simply because he is permanently unhappy1 and then coolly and firmly carry out his determination2 as may be seen by the way in which the sufferer1 when placed under supervision1 as he usually is1 eagerly waits to seize the first unguarded moment1 when1 without a shudder1 without a struggle or recoil1 he may use the now natural and welcome means of effecting his release4#a ,even the healthiest1 perhaps even the most cheerful man1 may resolve upon death under certain circumstances2 when1 for instance1 his sufferings1 or his fears of some inevitable misfortune1 reach such a pitch as to outweigh the terrors of death4 ,the only difference lies in the degree of suffering necessary to bring about the fatal act1 a degree which will be high in the case of a cheerful1 and low in that of a gloomy man4 ,the greater the melancholy1 the lower need the degree be2 in the end1 it may even sink to zero4 ,but if a man is cheerful1 and his spirits are supported by good health1 it requires a high degree of suffering to make him lay hands upon himself4 ,there are countless steps in the scale between the two extremes of suicide1 the suicide which springs merely from a morbid intensification of innate gloom1 and the suicide of the healthy and cheerful man1 who has entirely objective grounds for putting an end to his existence4 ,footnote #a3 ,for a detailed description of this condition of mind ,cf ,esquirol1 ,des maladies mentales4 ,beauty is partly an affair of health4 ,it may be reckoned as a personal advantage2 though it does not1 properly speaking1 contribute directly to our happiness4 ,it does so indirectly1 by impressing other people2 and it is no unimportant advantage1 even in man4 ,beauty is an open letter of recommendation1 predisposing the heart to favor the person who presents it4 ,as is well said in these lines of ,homer1 the gift of beauty is not lightly to be thrown away1 that glorious gift which none can bestow save the gods alone-- ,greek3 outoi hapoblaet erti theon erikuoea dora1 ossa ken autoi dosin1 ekon douk an tis eloito4#a ,footnote #a3 ,iliad #c1 #fe4 ,the most general survey shows us that the two foes of human happiness are pain and boredom4 ,we may go further1 and say that in the degree in which we are fortunate enough to get away from the one1 we approach the other4 ,life presents1 in fact1 a more or less violent oscillation between the two4 ,the reason of this is that each of these two poles stands in a double antagonism to the other1 external or objective1 and inner or subjective4 ,needy surroundings and poverty produce pain2 while1 if a man is more than well off1 he is bored4 ,accordingly1 while the lower classes are engaged in a ceaseless struggle with need1 in other words1 with pain1 the upper carry on a constant and often desperate battle with boredom4#a ,the inner or subjective antagonism arises from the fact that1 in the individual1 susceptibility to pain varies inversely with susceptibility to boredom1 because susceptibility is directly proportionate to mental power4 ,let me explain4 ,a dull mind is1 as a rule1 associated with dull sensibilities1 nerves which no stimulus can affect1 a temperament1 in short1 which does not feel pain or anxiety very much1 however great or terrible it may be4 ,now1 intellectual dullness is at the bottom of that vacuity of soul which is stamped on so many faces1 a state of mind which betrays itself by a constant and lively attention to all the trivial circumstances in the external world4 ,this is the true source of boredom--a continual panting after excitement1 in order to have a pretext for giving the mind and spirits something to occupy them4 ,the kind of things people choose for this purpose shows that they are not very particular1 as witness the miserable pastimes they have recourse to1 and their ideas of social pleasure and conversation3 or again1 the number of people who gossip on the doorstep or gape out of the window4 ,it is mainly because of this inner vacuity of soul that people go in quest of society1 diversion1 amusement1 luxury of every sort1 which lead many to extravagance and misery4 ,nothing is so good a protection against such misery as inward wealth1 the wealth of the mind1 because the greater it grows1 the less room it leaves for boredom4 ,the inexhaustible activity of thought6 ,finding ever new material to work upon in the multifarious phenomena of self and nature1 and able and ready to form new combinations of them1--there you have something that invigorates the mind1 and apart from moments of relaxation1 sets it far above the reach of boredom4 ,footnote #a3 ,and the extremes meet2 for the lowest state of civilization1 a nomad or wandering life1 finds its counterpart in the highest1 where everyone is at times a tourist4 ,the earlier stage was a case of necessity2 the latter is a remedy for boredom4 ,but1 on the other hand1 this high degree of intelligence is rooted in a high degree of susceptibility1 greater strength of will1 greater passionateness2 and from the union of these qualities comes an increased capacity for emotion1 an enhanced sensibility to all mental and even bodily pain1 greater impatience of obstacles1 greater resentment of interruption2--all of which tendencies are augmented by the power of the imagination1 the vivid character of the whole range of thought1 including what is disagreeable4 ,this applies1 in various degrees1 to every step in the long scale of mental power1 from the veriest dunce to the greatest genius that ever lived4 ,therefore the nearer anyone is1 either from a subjective or from an objective point of view1 to one of those sources of suffering in human life1 the farther he is from the other4 ,and so a man's natural bent will lead him to make his objective world conform to his subjective as much as possible2 that is to say1 he will take the greatest measures against that form of suffering to which he is most liable4 ,the wise man will1 above all1 strive after freedom from pain and annoyance1 quiet and leisure1 consequently a tranquil1 modest life1 with as few encounters as may be2 and so1 after a little experience of his so-called fellowmen1 he will elect to live in retirement1 or even1 if he is a man of great intellect1 in solitude4 ,for the more a man has in himself1 the less he will want from other people1--the less1 indeed1 other people can be to him4 ,this is why a high degree of intellect tends to make a man unsocial4 ,true1 if quality of intellect could be made up for by quantity1 it might be worth while to live even in the great world2 but unfortunately1 a hundred fools together will not make one wise man4 ,but the individual who stands at the other end of the scale is no sooner free from the pangs of need than he endeavors to get pastime and society at any cost1 taking up with the first person he meets1 and avoiding nothing so much as himself4 ,for in solitude1 where every one is thrown upon his own resources1 what a man has in himself comes to light2 the fool in fine raiment groans under the burden of his miserable personality1 a burden which he can never throw off1 whilst the man of talent peoples the waste places with his animating thoughts4 ,seneca declares that folly is its own burden1--omnis stultitia laborat fastidio sui1--a very true saying1 with which may be compared the words of ,jesus1 the son of ,sirach1 ,the life of a fool is worse than death#a4 ,and1 as a rule1 it will be found that a man is sociable just in the degree in which he is intellectually poor and generally vulgar4 ,for one's choice in this world does not go much beyond solitude on one side and vulgarity on the other4 ,it is said that the most sociable of all people are the negroes2 and they are at the bottom of the scale in intellect4 ,i remember reading once in a ,french paper#b that the blacks in ,north ,america1 whether free or enslaved1 are fond of shutting themselves up in large numbers in the smallest space1 because they cannot have too much of one another's snub-nosed company4 ,footnote #a3 ,ecclesiasticus1 xxii4 #aa4 ,footnote #b3 ,le ,commerce1 ,oct4 #aith1 #ahcg4 ,the brain may be regarded as a kind of parasite of the organism1 a pensioner1 as it were1 who dwells with the body3 and leisure1 that is1 the time one has for the free enjoyment of one's consciousness or individuality1 is the fruit or produce of the rest of existence1 which is in general only labor and effort4 ,but what does most people's leisure yield8--boredom and dullness2 except1 of course1 when it is occupied with sensual pleasure or folly4 ,how little such leisure is worth may be seen in the way in which it is spent3 and1 as ,ariosto observes1 how miserable are the idle hours of ignorant men6--ozio lungo d'uomini ignoranti4 ,ordinary people think merely how they shall spend their time2 a man of any talent tries to use it4 ,the reason why people of limited intellect are apt to be bored is that their intellect is absolutely nothing more than the means by which the motive power of the will is put into force3 and whenever there is nothing particular to set the will in motion1 it rests1 and their intellect takes a holiday1 because1 equally with the will1 it requires something external to bring it into play4 ,the result is an awful stagnation of whatever power a man has--in a word1 boredom4 ,to counteract this miserable feeling1 men run to trivialities which please for the moment they are taken up1 hoping thus to engage the will in order to rouse it to action1 and so set the intellect in motion2 for it is the latter which has to give effect to these motives of the will4 ,compared with real and natural motives1 these are but as paper money to coin2 for their value is only arbitrary--card games and the like1 which have been invented for this very purpose4 ,and if there is nothing else to be done1 a man will twirl his thumbs or beat the devil's tattoo2 or a cigar may be a welcome substitute for exercising his brains4 ,hence1 in all countries the chief occupation of society is card-playing1#a and it is the gauge of its value1 and an outward sign that it is bankrupt in thought4 ,because people have no thoughts to deal in1 they deal cards1 and try and win one another's money4 ,idiots6 ,but ,i do not wish to be unjust2 so let me remark that it may certainly be said in defence of card-playing that it is a preparation for the world and for business life1 because one learns thereby how to make a clever use of fortuitous but unalterable circumstances 7cards1 in this case71 and to get as much out of them as one can3 and to do this a man must learn a little dissimulation1 and how to put a good face upon a bad business4 ,but1 on the other hand1 it is exactly for this reason that card-playing is so demoralizing1 since the whole object of it is to employ every kind of trick and machination in order to win what belongs to another4 ,and a habit of this sort1 learnt at the card-table1 strikes root and pushes its way into practical life2 and in the affairs of every day a man gradually comes to regard meum and tuum in much the same light as cards1 and to consider that he may use to the utmost whatever advantages he possesses1 so long as he does not come within the arm of the law4 ,examples of what ,i mean are of daily occurrence in mercantile life4 ,since1 then1 leisure is the flower1 or rather the fruit1 of existence1 as it puts a man into possession of himself1 those are happy indeed who possess something real in themselves4 ,but what do you get from most people's leisure8--only a good-for-nothing fellow1 who is terribly bored and a burden to himself4 ,let us1 therefore1 rejoice1 dear brethren1 for we are not children of the bondwoman1 but of the free4 ,footnote #a3 ,translator's ,note4--,card-playing to this extent is now1 no doubt1 a thing of the past1 at any rate amongst the nations of northern ,europe4 ,the present fashion is rather in favor of a dilettante interest in art or literature4 ,further1 as no land is so well off as that which requires few imports1 or none at all1 so the happiest man is one who has enough in his own inner wealth1 and requires little or nothing from outside for his maintenance1 for imports are expensive things1 reveal dependence1 entail danger1 occasion trouble1 and when all is said and done1 are a poor substitute for home produce4 ,no man ought to expect much from others1 or1 in general1 from the external world4 ,what one human being can be to another is not a very great deal3 in the end every one stands alone1 and the important thing is who it is that stands alone4 ,here1 then1 is another application of the general truth which ,goethe recognizes in ,dichtung und ,wahrheit 7,bk4 ,,iii471 that in everything a man has ultimately to appeal to himself2 or1 as ,goldsmith puts it in ,the ,traveller3 ,still to ourselves in every place consign'd ,our own felicity we make or find4 ,himself is the source of the best and most a man can be or achieve4 ,the more this is so--the more a man finds his sources of pleasure in himself--the happier he will be4 ,therefore1 it is with great truth that ,aristotle#a says1 ,to be happy means to be self-sufficient4 ,for all other sources of happiness are in their nature most uncertain1 precarious1 fleeting1 the sport of chance2 and so even under the most favorable circumstances they can easily be exhausted2 nay1 this is unavoidable1 because they are not always within reach4 ,and in old age these sources of happiness must necessarily dry up3--love leaves us then1 and wit1 desire to travel1 delight in horses1 aptitude for social intercourse2 friends and relations1 too1 are taken from us by death4 ,then more than ever1 it depends upon what a man has in himself2 for this will stick to him longest2 and at any period of life it is the only genuine and lasting source of happiness4 ,there is not much to be got anywhere in the world4 ,it is filled with misery and pain2 and if a man escapes these1 boredom lies in wait for him at every corner4 ,nay more2 it is evil which generally has the upper hand1 and folly makes the most noise4 ,fate is cruel1 and mankind is pitiable4 ,in such a world as this1 a man who is rich in himself is like a bright1 warm1 happy room at ,christmastide1 while without are the frost and snow of a ,december night4 ,therefore1 without doubt1 the happiest destiny on earth is to have the rare gift of a rich individuality1 and1 more especially to be possessed of a good endowment of intellect2 this is the happiest destiny1 though it may not be1 after all1 a very brilliant one4 ,footnote #a3 ,eth4 ,eud1 vii #b ,there was a great wisdom in that remark which ,queen ,christina of ,sweden made1 in her nineteenth year1 about ,descartes1 who had then lived for twenty years in the deepest solitude in ,holland1 and1 apart from report1 was known to her only by a single essay3 ,m4 ,descartes1 she said1 is the happiest of men1 and his condition seems to me much to be envied4#a ,of course1 as was the case with ,descartes1 external circumstances must be favorable enough to allow a man to be master of his life and happiness2 or1 as we read in ,ecclesiastes#b--,wisdom is good together with an inheritance1 and profitable unto them that see the sun4 ,the man to whom nature and fate have granted the blessing of wisdom1 will be most anxious and careful to keep open the fountains of happiness which he has in himself2 and for this1 independence and leisure are necessary4 ,to obtain them1 he will be willing to moderate his desires and harbor his resources1 all the more because he is not1 like others1 restricted to the external world for his pleasures4 ,so he will not be misled by expectations of office1 or money1 or the favor and applause of his fellowmen1 into surrendering himself in order to conform to low desires and vulgar tastes2 nay1 in such a case he will follow the advice that ,horace gives in his epistle to ,maecenas4#c ,footnote #a3 ,vie de ,descartes1 par ,baillet4 ,liv4 vii41 ch4 #aj4 ,footnote #b3 vii4 #ab4 ,footnote #c3 ,lib4 #a41 ep4 #g4 ,nec somnum plebis laudo1 satur altilium1 nec ,otia divitiis ,arabum liberrima muto4 ,it is a great piece of folly to sacrifice the inner for the outer man1 to give the whole or the greater part of one's quiet1 leisure and independence for splendor1 rank1 pomp1 titles and honor4 ,this is what ,goethe did4 ,my good luck drew me quite in the other direction4 ,the truth which ,i am insisting upon here1 the truth1 namely1 that the chief source of human happiness is internal1 is confirmed by that most accurate observation of ,aristotle in the ,nichomachean ,ethics#a that every pleasure presupposes some sort of activity1 the application of some sort of power1 without which it cannot exist4 ,the doctrine of ,aristotle's1 that a man's happiness consists in the free exercise of his highest faculties1 is also enunciated by ,stobaeus in his exposition of the ,peripatetic philosophy#b3 happiness1 he says1 means vigorous and successful activity in all your undertakings2 and he explains that by vigor ,greek3 aretae he means mastery in any thing1 whatever it be4 ,now1 the original purpose of those forces with which nature has endowed man is to enable him to struggle against the difficulties which beset him on all sides4 ,but if this struggle comes to an end1 his unemployed forces become a burden to him2 and he has to set to work and play with them1--to use them1 ,i mean1 for no purpose at all1 beyond avoiding the other source of human suffering1 boredom1 to which he is at once exposed4 ,it is the upper classes1 people of wealth1 who are the greatest victims of boredom4 ,lucretius long ago described their miserable state1 and the truth of his description may be still recognized to-day1 in the life of every great capital--where the rich man is seldom in his own halls1 because it bores him to be there1 and still he returns thither1 because he is no better off outside2--or else he is away in post-haste to his house in the country1 as if it were on fire2 and he is no sooner arrived there1 than he is bored again1 and seeks to forget everything in sleep1 or else hurries back to town once more4 ,footnote #a3 i4 #g and vii4 #ac1 #ad4 ,footnote #b3 ,ecl4 eth4 ii41 ch #g4 ,exit saepe foras magnis ex aedibus ille1 ,esse domi quem pertaesum est1 subitoque reventat1 ,quippe foris nihilo melius qui sentiat esse4 ,currit1 agens mannos1 ad villam precipitanter1 ,auxilium tectis quasi ferre ardentibus instans3 ,oscitat extemplo1 tetigit quum limina villae2 ,aut abit in somnum gravis1 atque oblivia quaerit2 ,aut etiam properans urbem petit atque revisit4#a ,footnote #a3 ,,iii #ajgc4 ,in their youth1 such people must have had a superfluity of muscular and vital energy1--powers which1 unlike those of the mind1 cannot maintain their full degree of vigor very long2 and in later years they either have no mental powers at all1 or cannot develop any for want of employment which would bring them into play2 so that they are in a wretched plight4 ,will1 however1 they still possess1 for this is the only power that is inexhaustible2 and they try to stimulate their will by passionate excitement1 such as games of chance for high stakes--undoubtedly a most degrading form of vice4 ,and one may say generally that if a man finds himself with nothing to do1 he is sure to choose some amusement suited to the kind of power in which he excels1--bowls1 it may be1 or chess2 hunting or painting2 horse-racing or music2 cards1 or poetry1 heraldry1 philosophy1 or some other dilettante interest4 ,we might classify these interests methodically1 by reducing them to expressions of the three fundamental powers1 the factors1 that is to say1 which go to make up the physiological constitution of man2 and further1 by considering these powers by themselves1 and apart from any of the definite aims which they may subserve1 and simply as affording three sources of possible pleasure1 out of which every man will choose what suits him1 according as he excels in one direction or another4 ,first of all come the pleasures of vital energy1 of food1 drink1 digestion1 rest and sleep2 and there are parts of the world where it can be said that these are characteristic and national pleasures4 ,secondly1 there are the pleasures of muscular energy1 such as walking1 running1 wrestling1 dancing1 fencing1 riding and similar athletic pursuits1 which sometimes take the form of sport1 and sometimes of a military life and real warfare4 ,thirdly1 there are the pleasures of sensibility1 such as observation1 thought1 feeling1 or a taste for poetry or culture1 music1 learning1 reading1 meditation1 invention1 philosophy and the like4 ,as regards the value1 relative worth and duration of each of these kinds of pleasure1 a great deal might be said1 which1 however1 ,i leave the reader to supply4 ,but every one will see that the nobler the power which is brought into play1 the greater will be the pleasure which it gives2 for pleasure always involves the use of one's own powers1 and happiness consists in a frequent repetition of pleasure4 ,no one will deny that in this respect the pleasures of sensibility occupy a higher place than either of the other two fundamental kinds2 which exist in an equal1 nay1 in a greater degree in brutes2 it is this preponderating amount of sensibility which distinguishes man from other animals4 ,now1 our mental powers are forms of sensibility1 and therefore a preponderating amount of it makes us capable of that kind of pleasure which has to do with mind1 so-called intellectual pleasure2 and the more sensibility predominates1 the greater the pleasure will be4#a ,footnote #a3 ,nature exhibits a continual progress1 starting from the mechanical and chemical activity of the inorganic world1 proceeding to the vegetable1 with its dull enjoyment of self1 from that to the animal world1 where intelligence and consciousness begin1 at first very weak1 and only after many intermediate stages attaining its last great development in man1 whose intellect is ,nature's crowning point1 the goal of all her efforts1 the most perfect and difficult of all her works4 ,and even within the range of the human intellect1 there are a great many observable differences of degree1 and it is very seldom that intellect reaches its highest point1 intelligence properly so-called1 which in this narrow and strict sense of the word1 is ,nature's most consummate product1 and so the rarest and most precious thing of which the world can boast4 ,the highest product of ,nature is the clearest degree of consciousness1 in which the world mirrors itself more plainly and completely than anywhere else4 ,a man endowed with this form of intelligence is in possession of what is noblest and best on earth2 and accordingly1 he has a source of pleasure in comparison with which all others are small4 ,from his surroundings he asks nothing but leisure for the free enjoyment of what he has got1 time1 as it were1 to polish his diamond4 ,all other pleasures that are not of the intellect are of a lower kind2 for they are1 one and all1 movements of will--desires1 hopes1 fears and ambitions1 no matter to what directed3 they are always satisfied at the cost of pain1 and in the case of ambition1 generally with more or less of illusion4 ,with intellectual pleasure1 on the other hand1 truth becomes clearer and clearer4 ,in the realm of intelligence pain has no power4 ,knowledge is all in all4 ,further1 intellectual pleasures are accessible entirely and only through the medium of the intelligence1 and are limited by its capacity4 ,for all the wit there is in the world is useless to him who has none4 ,still this advantage is accompanied by a substantial disadvantage2 for the whole of ,nature shows that with the growth of intelligence comes increased capacity for pain1 and it is only with the highest degree of intelligence that suffering reaches its supreme point4 ,the normal1 ordinary man takes a vivid interest in anything only in so far as it excites his will1 that is to say1 is a matter of personal interest to him4 ,but constant excitement of the will is never an unmixed good1 to say the least2 in other words1 it involves pain4 ,card-playing1 that universal occupation of good society everywhere1 is a device for providing this kind of excitement1 and that1 too1 by means of interests so small as to produce slight and momentary1 instead of real and permanent1 pain4 ,card-playing is1 in fact1 a mere tickling of the will4#a ,footnote #a3 ,vulgarity is1 at bottom1 the kind of consciousness in which the will completely predominates over the intellect1 where the latter does nothing more than perform the service of its master1 the will4 ,therefore1 when the will makes no demands1 supplies no motives1 strong or weak1 the intellect entirely loses its power1 and the result is complete vacancy of mind4 ,now will without intellect is the most vulgar and common thing in the world1 possessed by every blockhead1 who1 in the gratification of his passions1 shows the stuff of which he is made4 ,this is the condition of mind called vulgarity1 in which the only active elements are the organs of sense1 and that small amount of intellect which is necessary for apprehending the data of sense4 ,accordingly1 the vulgar man is constantly open to all sorts of impressions1 and immediately perceives all the little trifling things that go on in his environment3 the lightest whisper1 the most trivial circumstance1 is sufficient to rouse his attention2 he is just like an animal4 ,such a man's mental condition reveals itself in his face1 in his whole exterior2 and hence that vulgar1 repulsive appearance1 which is all the more offensive1 if1 as is usually the case1 his will--the only factor in his consciousness--is a base1 selfish and altogether bad one4 ,on the other hand1 a man of powerful intellect is capable of taking a vivid interest in things in the way of mere knowledge1 with no admixture of will2 nay1 such an interest is a necessity to him4 ,it places him in a sphere where pain is an alien1--a diviner air1 where the gods live serene4 ,greek3 phusis bebion ou ta chraematatheoi reia xoontes#a ,footnote #a3 ,odyssey ,,iv41 #hje4 ,look on these two pictures--the life of the masses1 one long1 dull record of struggle and effort entirely devoted to the petty interests of personal welfare1 to misery in all its forms1 a life beset by intolerable boredom as soon as ever those aims are satisfied and the man is thrown back upon himself1 whence he can be roused again to some sort of movement only by the wild fire of passion4 ,on the other side you have a man endowed with a high degree of mental power1 leading an existence rich in thought and full of life and meaning1 occupied by worthy and interesting objects as soon as ever he is free to give himself to them1 bearing in himself a source of the noblest pleasure4 ,what external promptings he wants come from the works of nature1 and from the contemplation of human affairs and the achievements of the great of all ages and countries1 which are thoroughly appreciated by a man of this type alone1 as being the only one who can quite understand and feel with them4 ,and so it is for him alone that those great ones have really lived2 it is to him that they make their appeal2 the rest are but casual hearers who only half understand either them or their followers4 ,of course1 this characteristic of the intellectual man implies that he has one more need than the others1 the need of reading1 observing1 studying1 meditating1 practising1 the need1 in short1 of undisturbed leisure4 ,for1 as ,voltaire has very rightly said1 there are no real pleasures without real needs2 and the need of them is why to such a man pleasures are accessible which are denied to others1--the varied beauties of nature and art and literature4 ,to heap these pleasures round people who do not want them and cannot appreciate them1 is like expecting gray hairs to fall in love4 ,a man who is privileged in this respect leads two lives1 a personal and an intellectual life2 and the latter gradually comes to be looked upon as the true one1 and the former as merely a means to it4 ,other people make this shallow1 empty and troubled existence an end in itself4 ,to the life of the intellect such a man will give the preference over all his other occupations3 by the constant growth of insight and knowledge1 this intellectual life1 like a slowly-forming work of art1 will acquire a consistency1 a permanent intensity1 a unity which becomes ever more and more complete2 compared with which1 a life devoted to the attainment of personal comfort1 a life that may broaden indeed1 but can never be deepened1 makes but a poor show3 and yet1 as ,i have said1 people make this baser sort of existence an end in itself4 ,the ordinary life of every day1 so far as it is not moved by passion1 is tedious and insipid2 and if it is so moved1 it soon becomes painful4 ,those alone are happy whom nature has favored with some superfluity of intellect1 something beyond what is just necessary to carry out the behests of their will2 for it enables them to lead an intellectual life as well1 a life unattended by pain and full of vivid interests4 ,mere leisure1 that is to say1 intellect unoccupied in the service of the will1 is not of itself sufficient3 there must be a real superfluity of power1 set free from the service of the will and devoted to that of the intellect2 for1 as ,seneca says1 otium sine litteris mors est et vivi hominis sepultura--illiterate leisure is a form of death1 a living tomb4 ,varying with the amount of the superfluity1 there will be countless developments in this second life1 the life of the mind2 it may be the mere collection and labelling of insects1 birds1 minerals1 coins1 or the highest achievements of poetry and philosophy4 ,the life of the mind is not only a protection against boredom2 it also wards off the pernicious effects of boredom2 it keeps us from bad company1 from the many dangers1 misfortunes1 losses and extravagances which the man who places his happiness entirely in the objective world is sure to encounter1 ,my philosophy1 for instance1 has never brought me in a six-pence2 but it has spared me many an expense4 ,the ordinary man places his life's happiness in things external to him1 in property1 rank1 wife and children1 friends1 society1 and the like1 so that when he loses them or finds them disappointing1 the foundation of his happiness is destroyed4 ,in other words1 his centre of gravity is not in himself2 it is constantly changing its place1 with every wish and whim4 ,if he is a man of means1 one day it will be his house in the country1 another buying horses1 or entertaining friends1 or traveling1--a life1 in short1 of general luxury1 the reason being that he seeks his pleasure in things outside him4 ,like one whose health and strength are gone1 he tries to regain by the use of jellies and drugs1 instead of by developing his own vital power1 the true source of what he has lost4 ,before proceeding to the opposite1 let us compare with this common type the man who comes midway between the two1 endowed1 it may be1 not exactly with distinguished powers of mind1 but with somewhat more than the ordinary amount of intellect4 ,he will take a dilettante interest in art1 or devote his attention to some branch of science--botany1 for example1 or physics1 astronomy1 history1 and find a great deal of pleasure in such studies1 and amuse himself with them when external forces of happiness are exhausted or fail to satisfy him any more4 ,of a man like this it may be said that his centre of gravity is partly in himself4 ,but a dilettante interest in art is a very different thing from creative activity2 and an amateur pursuit of science is apt to be superficial and not to penetrate to the heart of the matter4 ,a man cannot entirely identify himself with such pursuits1 or have his whole existence so completely filled and permeated with them that he loses all interest in everything else4 ,it is only the highest intellectual power1 what we call genius1 that attains to this degree of intensity1 making all time and existence its theme1 and striving to express its peculiar conception of the world1 whether it contemplates life as the subject of poetry or of philosophy4 ,hence1 undisturbed occupation with himself1 his own thoughts and works1 is a matter of urgent necessity to such a man2 solitude is welcome1 leisure is the highest good1 and everything else is unnecessary1 nay1 even burdensome4 ,this is the only type of man of whom it can be said that his centre of gravity is entirely in himself2 which explains why it is that people of this sort--and they are very rare--no matter how excellent their character may be1 do not show that warm and unlimited interest in friends1 family1 and the community in general1 of which others are so often capable2 for if they have only themselves they are not inconsolable for the loss of everything else4 ,this gives an isolation to their character1 which is all the more effective since other people never really quite satisfy them1 as being1 on the whole1 of a different nature3 nay more1 since this difference is constantly forcing itself upon their notice they get accustomed to move about amongst mankind as alien beings1 and in thinking of humanity in general1 to say they instead of we4 ,so the conclusion we come to is that the man whom nature has endowed with intellectual wealth is the happiest2 so true it is that the subjective concerns us more than the objective2 for whatever the latter may be1 it can work only indirectly1 secondly1 and through the medium of the former--a truth finely expressed by ,lucian3-- ,greek3 ,aeloutos ho taes psychaes ploutus monos estin alaethaes ,talla dechei ataen pleiona ton kteanon--#a ,footnote #a3 ,epigrammata1 #ab4 the wealth of the soul is the only true wealth1 for with all other riches comes a bane even greater than they4 ,the man of inner wealth wants nothing from outside but the negative gift of undisturbed leisure1 to develop and mature his intellectual faculties1 that is1 to enjoy his wealth2 in short1 he wants permission to be himself1 his whole life long1 every day and every hour4 ,if he is destined to impress the character of his mind upon a whole race1 he has only one measure of happiness or unhappiness--to succeed or fail in perfecting his powers and completing his work4 ,all else is of small consequence4 ,accordingly1 the greatest minds of all ages have set the highest value upon undisturbed leisure1 as worth exactly as much as the man himself4 ,happiness appears to consist in leisure1 says ,aristotle2#a and ,diogenes ,laertius reports that ,socrates praised leisure as the fairest of all possessions4 ,so1 in the ,nichomachean ,ethics1 ,aristotle concludes that a life devoted to philosophy is the happiest2 or1 as he says in the ,politics1#b the free exercise of any power1 whatever it may be1 is happiness4 ,this again1 tallies with what ,goethe says in ,wilhelm ,meister3 ,the man who is born with a talent which he is meant to use1 finds his greatest happiness in using it4 ,footnote #a3 ,eth4 ,nichom4 x4 #g4 ,footnote #b3 iv4 #aa4 ,but to be in possession of undisturbed leisure1 is far from being the common lot2 nay1 it is something alien to human nature1 for the ordinary man's destiny is to spend life in procuring what is necessary for the subsistence of himself and his family2 he is a son of struggle and need1 not a free intelligence4 ,so people as a rule soon get tired of undisturbed leisure1 and it becomes burdensome if there are no fictitious and forced aims to occupy it1 play1 pastime and hobbies of every kind4 ,for this very reason it is full of possible danger1 and difficilis in otio quies is a true saying1--it is difficult to keep quiet if you have nothing to do4 ,on the other hand1 a measure of intellect far surpassing the ordinary1 is as unnatural as it is abnormal4 ,but if it exists1 and the man endowed with it is to be happy1 he will want precisely that undisturbed leisure which the others find burdensome or pernicious2 for without it he is a ,pegasus in harness1 and consequently unhappy4 ,if these two unnatural circumstances1 external1 and internal1 undisturbed leisure and great intellect1 happen to coincide in the same person1 it is a great piece of fortune2 and if the fate is so far favorable1 a man can lead the higher life1 the life protected from the two opposite sources of human suffering1 pain and boredom1 from the painful struggle for existence1 and the incapacity for enduring leisure 7which is free existence itself7--evils which may be escaped only by being mutually neutralized4 ,but there is something to be said in opposition to this view4 ,great intellectual gifts mean an activity pre-eminently nervous in its character1 and consequently a very high degree of susceptibility to pain in every form4 ,further1 such gifts imply an intense temperament1 larger and more vivid ideas1 which1 as the inseparable accompaniment of great intellectual power1 entail on its possessor a corresponding intensity of the emotions1 making them incomparably more violent than those to which the ordinary man is a prey4 ,now1 there are more things in the world productive of pain than of pleasure4 ,again1 a large endowment of intellect tends to estrange the man who has it from other people and their doings2 for the more a man has in himself1 the less he will be able to find in them2 and the hundred things in which they take delight1 he will think shallow and insipid4 ,here1 then1 perhaps1 is another instance of that law of compensation which makes itself felt everywhere4 ,how often one hears it said1 and said1 too1 with some plausibility1 that the narrow-minded man is at bottom the happiest1 even though his fortune is unenviable4 ,i shall make no attempt to forestall the reader's own judgment on this point2 more especially as ,sophocles himself has given utterance to two diametrically opposite opinions3-- ,greek3 ,pollo to phronein eudaimonias proton uparchei4#a he says in one place--wisdom is the greatest part of happiness2 and again1 in another passage1 he declares that the life of the thoughtless is the most pleasant of all-- ,greek3 ,en ta phronein gar maeden aedistos bios4#b ,the philosophers of the ,old ,testament find themselves in a like contradiction4 ,the life of a fool is worse than death#c and-- ,in much wisdom is much grief2 and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow4#d ,footnote #a3 ,antigone1 #acdg-h4 ,footnote #b3 ,ajax1 #eed4 ,footnote #c3 ,ecclesiasticus1 xxii4 #aa4 ,footnote #d3 ,ecclesiastes1 i4 #ah4 ,i may remark1 however1 that a man who has no mental needs1 because his intellect is of the narrow and normal amount1 is1 in the strict sense of the word1 what is called a philistine--an expression at first peculiar to the ,german language1 a kind of slang term at the ,universities1 afterwards used1 by analogy1 in a higher sense1 though still in its original meaning1 as denoting one who is not a ,son of the ,muses4 ,a philistine is and remains ,greek3 amousos anaer4 ,i should prefer to take a higher point of view1 and apply the term philistine to people who are always seriously occupied with realities which are no realities2 but as such a definition would be a transcendental one1 and therefore not generally intelligible1 it would hardly be in place in the present treatise1 which aims at being popular4 ,the other definition can be more easily elucidated1 indicating1 as it does1 satisfactorily enough1 the essential nature of all those qualities which distinguish the philistine4 ,he is defined to be a man without mental needs4 ,from this is follows1 firstly1 in relation to himself1 that he has no intellectual pleasures2 for1 as was remarked before1 there are no real pleasures without real needs4 ,the philistine's life is animated by no desire to gain knowledge and insight for their own sake1 or to experience that true aeesthetic pleasure which is so nearly akin to them4 ,if pleasures of this kind are fashionable1 and the philistine finds himself compelled to pay attention to them1 he will force himself to do so1 but he will take as little interest in them as possible4 ,his only real pleasures are of a sensual kind1 and he thinks that these indemnify him for the loss of the others4 ,to him oysters and champagne are the height of existence2 the aim of his life is to procure what will contribute to his bodily welfare1 and he is indeed in a happy way if this causes him some trouble4 ,if the luxuries of life are heaped upon him1 he will inevitably be bored1 and against boredom he has a great many fancied remedies1 balls1 theatres1 parties1 cards1 gambling1 horses1 women1 drinking1 traveling and so on2 all of which can not protect a man from being bored1 for where there are no intellectual needs1 no intellectual pleasures are possible4 ,the peculiar characteristic of the philistine is a dull1 dry kind of gravity1 akin to that of animals4 ,nothing really pleases1 or excites1 or interests him1 for sensual pleasure is quickly exhausted1 and the society of philistines soon becomes burdensome1 and one may even get tired of playing cards4 ,true1 the pleasures of vanity are left1 pleasures which he enjoys in his own way1 either by feeling himself superior in point of wealth1 or rank1 or influence and power to other people1 who thereupon pay him honor2 or1 at any rate1 by going about with those who have a superfluity of these blessings1 sunning himself in the reflection of their splendor--what the ,english call a snob4 ,from the essential nature of the philistine it follows1 secondly1 in regard to others1 that1 as he possesses no intellectual1 but only physical need1 he will seek the society of those who can satisfy the latter1 but not the former4 ,the last thing he will expect from his friends is the possession of any sort of intellectual capacity2 nay1 if he chances to meet with it1 it will rouse his antipathy and even hatred2 simply because in addition to an unpleasant sense of inferiority1 he experiences1 in his heart1 a dull kind of envy1 which has to be carefully concealed even from himself4 ,nevertheless1 it sometimes grows into a secret feeling of rancor4 ,but for all that1 it will never occur to him to make his own ideas of worth or value conform to the standard of such qualities2 he will continue to give the preference to rank and riches1 power and influence1 which in his eyes seem to be the only genuine advantages in the world2 and his wish will be to excel in them himself4 ,all this is the consequence of his being a man without intellectual needs4 ,the great affliction of all philistines is that they have no interest in ideas1 and that1 to escape being bored1 they are in constant need of realities4 ,but realities are either unsatisfactory or dangerous2 when they lose their interest1 they become fatiguing4 ,but the ideal world is illimitable and calm1 something afar ,from the sphere of our sorrow4 ,,note4--,in these remarks on the personal qualities which go to make happiness1 ,i have been mainly concerned with the physical and intellectual nature of man4 ,for an account of the direct and immediate influence of morality upon happiness1 let me refer to my prize essay on ,the ,foundation of ,morals 7,sec4 #bb47 ,,chapter ,,iii4 ,,property1 ,,or ,,what ,a ,,man ,,has4 ,epicurus divides the needs of mankind into three classes1 and the division made by this great professor of happiness is a true and a fine one4 ,first come natural and necessary needs1 such as1 when not satisfied1 produce pain1--food and clothing1 victus et amictus1 needs which can easily be satisfied4 ,secondly1 there are those needs which1 though natural1 are not necessary1 such as the gratification of certain of the senses4 ,i may add1 however1 that in the report given by ,diogenes ,laertius1 ,epicurus does not mention which of the senses he means2 so that on this point my account of his doctrine is somewhat more definite and exact than the original4 ,these are needs rather more difficult to satisfy4 ,the third class consists of needs which are neither natural nor necessary1 the need of luxury and prodigality1 show and splendor1 which never come to an end1 and are very hard to satisfy4#a ,footnote #a3 ,cf4 ,diogenes ,laertius1 ,bk4 x41 ch4 xxvii41 pp4 #abg and #adi2 also ,cicero de finibus1 i41 #ac4 ,it is difficult1 if not impossible1 to define the limits which reason should impose on the desire for wealth2 for there is no absolute or definite amount of wealth which will satisfy a man4 ,the amount is always relative1 that is to say1 just so much as will maintain the proportion between what he wants and what he gets2 for to measure a man's happiness only by what he gets1 and not also by what he expects to get1 is as futile as to try and express a fraction which shall have a numerator but no denominator4 ,a man never feels the loss of things which it never occurs to him to ask for2 he is just as happy without them2 whilst another1 who may have a hundred times as much1 feels miserable because he has not got the one thing he wants4 ,in fact1 here too1 every man has an horizon of his own1 and he will expect as much as he thinks it is possible for him to get4 ,if an object within his horizon looks as though he could confidently reckon on getting it1 he is happy2 but if difficulties come in the way1 he is miserable4 ,what lies beyond his horizon has no effect at all upon him4 ,so it is that the vast possessions of the rich do not agitate the poor1 and conversely1 that a wealthy man is not consoled by all his wealth for the failure of his hopes4 ,riches1 one may say1 are like sea-water2 the more you drink the thirstier you become2 and the same is true of fame4 ,the loss of wealth and prosperity leaves a man1 as soon as the first pangs of grief are over1 in very much the same habitual temper as before2 and the reason of this is1 that as soon as fate diminishes the amount of his possessions1 he himself immediately reduces the amount of his claims4 ,but when misfortune comes upon us1 to reduce the amount of our claims is just what is most painful2 once that we have done so1 the pain becomes less and less1 and is felt no more2 like an old wound which has healed4 ,conversely1 when a piece of good fortune befalls us1 our claims mount higher and higher1 as there is nothing to regulate them2 it is in this feeling of expansion that the delight of it lies4 ,but it lasts no longer than the process itself1 and when the expansion is complete1 the delight ceases2 we have become accustomed to the increase in our claims1 and consequently indifferent to the amount of wealth which satisfies them4 ,there is a passage in the ,odyssey#a illustrating this truth1 of which ,i may quote the last two lines3 ,greek3 ,toios gar noos estin epichthonion anthropon ,oion eth aemar agei pataer andron te theou te --the thoughts of man that dwells on the earth are as the day granted him by the father of gods and men4 ,discontent springs from a constant endeavor to increase the amount of our claims1 when we are powerless to increase the amount which will satisfy them4 ,footnote #a3 xviii41 #acj-g4 ,when we consider how full of needs the human race is1 how its whole existence is based upon them1 it is not a matter for surprise that wealth is held in more sincere esteem1 nay1 in greater honor1 than anything else in the world2 nor ought we to wonder that gain is made the only good of life1 and everything that does not lead to it pushed aside or thrown overboard--philosophy1 for instance1 by those who profess it4 ,people are often reproached for wishing for money above all things1 and for loving it more than anything else2 but it is natural and even inevitable for people to love that which1 like an unwearied ,proteus1 is always ready to turn itself into whatever object their wandering wishes or manifold desires may for the moment fix upon4 ,everything else can satisfy only one wish1 one need3 food is good only if you are hungry2 wine1 if you are able to enjoy it2 drugs1 if you are sick2 fur for the winter2 love for youth1 and so on4 ,these are all only relatively good1 ,greek3 agatha pros ti4 ,money alone is absolutely good1 because it is not only a concrete satisfaction of one need in particular2 it is an abstract satisfaction of all4 ,if a man has an independent fortune1 he should regard it as a bulwark against the many evils and misfortunes which he may encounter2 he should not look upon it as giving him leave to get what pleasure he can out of the world1 or as rendering it incumbent upon him to spend it in this way4 ,people who are not born with a fortune1 but end by making a large one through the exercise of whatever talents they possess1 almost always come to think that their talents are their capital1 and that the money they have gained is merely the interest upon it2 they do not lay by a part of their earnings to form a permanent capital1 but spend their money much as they have earned it4 ,accordingly1 they often fall into poverty2 their earnings decreased1 or come to an end altogether1 either because their talent is exhausted by becoming antiquated1--as1 for instance1 very often happens in the case of fine art2 or else it was valid only under a special conjunction of circumstances which has now passed away4 ,there is nothing to prevent those who live on the common labor of their hands from treating their earnings in that way if they like2 because their kind of skill is not likely to disappear1 or1 if it does1 it can be replaced by that of their fellow-workmen2 morever1 the kind of work they do is always in demand2 so that what the proverb says is quite true1 a useful trade is a mine of gold4 ,but with artists and professionals of every kind the case is quite different1 and that is the reason why they are well paid4 ,they ought to build up a capital out of their earnings2 but they recklessly look upon them as merely interest1 and end in ruin4 ,on the other hand1 people who inherit money know1 at least1 how to distinguish between capital and interest1 and most of them try to make their capital secure and not encroach upon it2 nay1 if they can1 they put by at least an eighth of their interests in order to meet future contingencies4 ,so most of them maintain their position4 ,these few remarks about capital and interest are not applicable to commercial life1 for merchants look upon money only as a means of further gain1 just as a workman regards his tools2 so even if their capital has been entirely the result of their own efforts1 they try to preserve and increase it by using it4 ,accordingly1 wealth is nowhere so much at home as in the merchant class4 ,it will generally be found that those who know what it is to have been in need and destitution are very much less afraid of it1 and consequently more inclined to extravagance1 than those who know poverty only by hearsay4 ,people who have been born and bred in good circumstances are as a rule much more careful about the future1 more economical1 in fact1 than those who1 by a piece of good luck1 have suddenly passed from poverty to wealth4 ,this looks as if poverty were not really such a very wretched thing as it appears from a distance4 ,the true reason1 however1 is rather the fact that the man who has been born into a position of wealth comes to look upon it as something without which he could no more live than he could live without air2 he guards it as he does his very life2 and so he is generally a lover of order1 prudent and economical4 ,but the man who has been born into a poor position looks upon it as the natural one1 and if by any chance he comes in for a fortune1 he regards it as a superfluity1 something to be enjoyed or wasted1 because1 if it comes to an end1 he can get on just as well as before1 with one anxiety the less2 or1 as ,shakespeare says in ,henry ,,vi41#a 4444 the adage must be verified ,that beggars mounted run their horse to death4 ,footnote #a3 ,part ,,iii41 ,act #a41 ,sc4 #d4 ,but it should be said that people of this kind have a firm and excessive trust1 partly in fate1 partly in the peculiar means which have already raised them out of need and poverty1--a trust not only of the head1 but of the heart also2 and so they do not1 like the man born rich1 look upon the shallows of poverty as bottomless1 but console themselves with the thought that once they have touched ground again1 they can take another upward flight4 ,it is this trait in human character which explains the fact that women who were poor before their marriage often make greater claims1 and are more extravagant1 than those who have brought their husbands a rich dowry2 because1 as a rule1 rich girls bring with them1 not only a fortune1 but also more eagerness1 nay1 more of the inherited instinct1 to preserve it1 than poor girls do4 ,if anyone doubts the truth of this1 and thinks that it is just the opposite1 he will find authority for his view in ,ariosto's first ,satire2 but1 on the other hand1 ,dr4 ,johnson agrees with my opinion4 ,a woman of fortune1 he says1 being used to the handling of money1 spends it judiciously2 but a woman who gets the command of money for the first time upon her marriage1 has such a gusto in spending it1 that she throws it away with great profusion4#a ,and in any case let me advise anyone who marries a poor girl not to leave her the capital but only the interest1 and to take especial care that she has not the management of the children's fortune4 ,footnote #a3 ,boswell's ,life of ,johnson3 ann3 #aggf1 aetat3 #fg4 ,i do not by any means think that ,i am touching upon a subject which is not worth my while to mention when ,i recommend people to be careful to preserve what they have earned or inherited4 ,for to start life with just as much as will make one independent1 that is1 allow one to live comfortably without having to work--even if one has only just enough for oneself1 not to speak of a family--is an advantage which cannot be over-estimated2 for it means exemption and immunity from that chronic disease of penury1 which fastens on the life of man like a plague2 it is emancipation from that forced labor which is the natural lot of every mortal4 ,only under a favorable fate like this can a man be said to be born free1 to be1 in the proper sense of the word1 sui juris1 master of his own time and powers1 and able to say every morning1 ,this day is my own4 ,and just for the same reason the difference between the man who has a hundred a year and the man who has a thousand1 is infinitely smaller than the difference between the former and a man who has nothing at all4 ,but inherited wealth reaches its utmost value when it falls to the individual endowed with mental powers of a high order1 who is resolved to pursue a line of life not compatible with the making of money2 for he is then doubly endowed by fate and can live for his genius2 and he will pay his debt to mankind a hundred times1 by achieving what no other could achieve1 by producing some work which contributes to the general good1 and redounds to the honor of humanity at large4 ,another1 again1 may use his wealth to further philanthropic schemes1 and make himself well-deserving of his fellowmen4 ,but a man who does none of these things1 who does not even try to do them1 who never attempts to learn the rudiments of any branch of knowledge so that he may at least do what he can towards promoting it--such a one1 born as he is into riches1 is a mere idler and thief of time1 a contemptible fellow4 ,he will not even be happy1 because1 in his case1 exemption from need delivers him up to the other extreme of human suffering1 boredom1 which is such martyrdom to him1 that he would have been better off if poverty had given him something to do4 ,and as he is bored he is apt to be extravagant1 and so lose the advantage of which he showed himself unworthy4 ,countless numbers of people find themselves in want1 simply because1 when they had money1 they spent it only to get momentary relief from the feeling of boredom which oppressed them4 ,it is quite another matter if one's object is success in political life1 where favor1 friends and connections are all-important1 in order to mount by their aid step by step on the ladder of promotion1 and perhaps gain the topmost rung4 ,in this kind of life1 it is much better to be cast upon the world without a penny2 and if the aspirant is not of noble family1 but is a man of some talent1 it will redound to his advantage to be an absolute pauper4 ,for what every one most aims at in ordinary contact with his fellows is to prove them inferior to himself2 and how much more is this the case in politics4 ,now1 it is only an absolute pauper who has such a thorough conviction of his own complete1 profound and positive inferiority from every point of view1 of his own utter insignificance and worthlessness1 that he can take his place quietly in the political machine4#a ,he is the only one who can keep on bowing low enough1 and even go right down upon his face if necessary2 he alone can submit to everything and laugh at it2 he alone knows the entire worthlessness of merit2 he alone uses his loudest voice and his boldest type whenever he has to speak or write of those who are placed over his head1 or occupy any position of influence2 and if they do a little scribbling1 he is ready to applaud it as a masterwork4 ,he alone understands how to beg1 and so betimes1 when he is hardly out of his boyhood1 he becomes a high priest of that hidden mystery which ,goethe brings to light4 ,uber's ,niedertrchtige ,niemand sich beklage3 ,denn es ist das ,machtige ,was man dir auch sage3 --it is no use to complain of low aims2 for1 whatever people may say1 they rule the world4 ,footnote #a3 ,translator's ,note4--,schopenhauer is probably here making one of his most virulent attacks upon ,hegel2 in this case on account of what he thought to be the philosopher's abject servility to the government of his day4 ,though the ,hegelian system has been the fruitful mother of many liberal ideas1 there can be no doubt that ,hegel's influence1 in his own lifetime1 was an effective support of ,prussian bureaucracy4 ,on the other hand1 the man who is born with enough to live upon is generally of a somewhat independent turn of mind2 he is accustomed to keep his head up2 he has not learned all the arts of the beggar2 perhaps he even presumes a little upon the possession of talents which1 as he ought to know1 can never compete with cringing mediocrity2 in the long run he comes to recognize the inferiority of those who are placed over his head1 and when they try to put insults upon him1 he becomes refractory and shy4 ,this is not the way to get on in the world4 ,nay1 such a man may at least incline to the opinion freely expressed by ,voltaire3 ,we have only two days to live2 it is not worth our while to spend them in cringing to contemptible rascals4 ,but alas6 let me observe by the way1 that contemptible rascal is an attribute which may be predicated of an abominable number of people4 ,what ,juvenal says--it is difficult to rise if your poverty is greater than your talent-- ,haud facile emergunt quorum virtutibus obstat ,res angusta domi-- is more applicable to a career of art and literature than to a political and social ambition4 ,wife and children ,i have not reckoned amongst a man's possessions3 he is rather in their possession4 ,it would be easier to include friends under that head2 but a man's friends belong to him not a whit more than he belongs to them4 ,,chapter ,,iv4 ,,position1 ,,or ,a ,,man',s ,,place ,,in ,,the ,,estimation ,,of ,,others4 ,section #a4--,reputation4 ,by a peculiar weakness of human nature1 people generally think too much about the opinion which others form of them2 although the slightest reflection will show that this opinion1 whatever it may be1 is not in itself essential to happiness4 ,therefore it is hard to understand why everybody feels so very pleased when he sees that other people have a good opinion of him1 or say anything flattering to his vanity4 ,if you stroke a cat1 it will purr2 and1 as inevitably1 if you praise a man1 a sweet expression of delight will appear on his face2 and even though the praise is a palpable lie1 it will be welcome1 if the matter is one on which he prides himself4 ,if only other people will applaud him1 a man may console himself for downright misfortune or for the pittance he gets from the two sources of human happiness already discussed3 and conversely1 it is astonishing how infallibly a man will be annoyed1 and in some cases deeply pained1 by any wrong done to his feeling of self-importance1 whatever be the nature1 degree1 or circumstances of the injury1 or by any depreciation1 slight1 or disregard4 ,if the feeling of honor rests upon this peculiarity of human nature1 it may have a very salutary effect upon the welfare of a great many people1 as a substitute for morality2 but upon their happiness1 more especially upon that peace of mind and independence which are so essential to happiness1 its effect will be disturbing and prejudicial rather than salutary4 ,therefore it is advisable1 from our point of view1 to set limits to this weakness1 and duly to consider and rightly to estimate the relative value of advantages1 and thus temper1 as far as possible1 this great susceptibility to other people's opinion1 whether the opinion be one flattering to our vanity1 or whether it causes us pain2 for in either case it is the same feeling which is touched4 ,otherwise1 a man is the slave of what other people are pleased to think1--and how little it requires to disconcert or soothe the mind that is greedy of praise3 ,sic leve1 sic parvum est1 animum quod laudis avarum ,subruit ac reficit4#a ,footnote #a3 ,horace1 ,epist3 ,,ii41 #a1 #ahj4 ,therefore it will very much conduce to our happiness if we duly compare the value of what a man is in and for himself with what he is in the eyes of others4 ,under the former conies everything that fills up the span of our existence and makes it what it is1 in short1 all the advantages already considered and summed up under the heads of personality and property2 and the sphere in which all this takes place is the man's own consciousness4 ,on the other hand1 the sphere of what we are for other people is their consciousness1 not ours2 it is the kind of figure we make in their eyes1 together with the thoughts which this arouses4#a ,but this is something which has no direct and immediate existence for us1 but can affect us only mediately and indirectly1 so far1 that is1 as other people's behavior towards us is directed by it2 and even then it ought to affect us only in so far as it can move us to modify what we are in and for ourselves4 ,apart from this1 what goes on in other people's consciousness is1 as such1 a matter of indifference to us2 and in time we get really indifferent to it1 when we come to see how superficial and futile are most people's thoughts1 how narrow their ideas1 how mean their sentiments1 how perverse their opinions1 and how much of error there is in most of them2 when we learn by experience with what depreciation a man will speak of his fellow1 when he is not obliged to fear him1 or thinks that what he says will not come to his ears4 ,and if ever we have had an opportunity of seeing how the greatest of men will meet with nothing but slight from half-a-dozen blockheads1 we shall understand that to lay great value upon what other people say is to pay them too much honor4 ,footnote #a3 ,let me remark that people in the highest positions in life1 with all their brilliance1 pomp1 display1 magnificence and general show1 may well say3--,our happiness lies entirely outside us2 for it exists only in the heads of others4 ,at all events1 a man is in a very bad way1 who finds no source of happiness in the first two classes of blessings already treated of1 but has to seek it in the third1 in other words1 not in what he is in himself1 but in what he is in the opinion of others4 ,for1 after all1 the foundation of our whole nature1 and1 therefore1 of our happiness1 is our physique1 and the most essential factor in happiness is health1 and1 next in importance after health1 the ability to maintain ourselves in independence and freedom from care4 ,there can be no competition or compensation between these essential factors on the one side1 and honor1 pomp1 rank and reputation on the other1 however much value we may set upon the latter4 ,no one would hesitate to sacrifice the latter for the former1 if it were necessary4 ,we should add very much to our happiness by a timely recognition of the simple truth that every man's chief and real existence is in his own skin1 and not in other people's opinions2 and1 consequently1 that the actual conditions of our personal life1--health1 temperament1 capacity1 income1 wife1 children1 friends1 home1 are a hundred times more important for our happiness than what other people are pleased to think of us3 otherwise we shall be miserable4 ,and if people insist that honor is dearer than life itself1 what they really mean is that existence and well-being are as nothing compared with other people's opinions4 ,of course1 this may be only an exaggerated way of stating the prosaic truth that reputation1 that is1 the opinion others have of us1 is indispensable if we are to make any progress in the world2 but ,i shall come back to that presently4 ,when we see that almost everything men devote their lives to attain1 sparing no effort and encountering a thousand toils and dangers in the process1 has1 in the end1 no further object than to raise themselves in the estimation of others2 when we see that not only offices1 titles1 decorations1 but also wealth1 nay1 even knowledge#a and art1 are striven for only to obtain1 as the ultimate goal of all effort1 greater respect from one's fellowmen1--is not this a lamentable proof of the extent to which human folly can go8 ,to set much too high a value on other people's opinion is a common error everywhere2 an error1 it may be1 rooted in human nature itself1 or the result of civilization1 and social arrangements generally2 but1 whatever its source1 it exercises a very immoderate influence on all we do1 and is very prejudicial to our happiness4 ,we can trace it from a timorous and slavish regard for what other people will say1 up to the feeling which made ,virginius plunge the dagger into his daughter's heart1 or induces many a man to sacrifice quiet1 riches1 health and even life itself1 for posthumous glory4 ,undoubtedly this feeling is a very convenient instrument in the hands of those who have the control or direction of their fellowmen2 and accordingly we find that in every scheme for training up humanity in the way it should go1 the maintenance and strengthening of the feeling of honor occupies an important place4 ,but it is quite a different matter in its effect on human happiness1 of which it is here our object to treat2 and we should rather be careful to dissuade people from setting too much store by what others think of them4 ,daily experience shows us1 however1 that this is just the mistake people persist in making2 most men set the utmost value precisely on what other people think1 and are more concerned about it than about what goes on in their own consciousness1 which is the thing most immediately and directly present to them4 ,they reverse the natural order1--regarding the opinions of others as real existence and their own consciousness as something shadowy2 making the derivative and secondary into the principal1 and considering the picture they present to the world of more importance than their own selves4 ,by thus trying to get a direct and immediate result out of what has no really direct or immediate existence1 they fall into the kind of folly which is called vanity--the appropriate term for that which has no solid or instrinsic value4 ,like a miser1 such people forget the end in their eagerness to obtain the means4 ,footnote #a3 ,scire tuum nihil est nisi te scire hoc sciat alter1 7,persins i1 #bg7--knowledge is no use unless others know that you have it4 ,the truth is that the value we set upon the opinion of others1 and our constant endeavor in respect of it1 are each quite out of proportion to any result we may reasonably hope to attain2 so that this attention to other people's attitude may be regarded as a kind of universal mania which every one inherits4 ,in all we do1 almost the first thing we think about is1 what will people say2 and nearly half the troubles and bothers of life may be traced to our anxiety on this score2 it is the anxiety which is at the bottom of all that feeling of self-importance1 which is so often mortified because it is so very morbidly sensitive4 ,it is solicitude about what others will say that underlies all our vanity and pretension1 yes1 and all our show and swagger too4 ,without it1 there would not be a tenth part of the luxury which exists4 ,pride in every form1 point d'honneur and punctilio1 however varied their kind or sphere1 are at bottom nothing but this--anxiety about what others will say--and what sacrifices it costs6 ,one can see it even in a child2 and though it exists at every period of life1 it is strongest in age2 because1 when the capacity for sensual pleasure fails1 vanity and pride have only avarice to share their dominion4 ,frenchmen1 perhaps1 afford the best example of this feeling1 and amongst them it is a regular epidemic1 appearing sometimes in the most absurd ambition1 or in a ridiculous kind of national vanity and the most shameless boasting4 ,however1 they frustrate their own gains1 for other people make fun of them and call them la grande nation4 ,by way of specially illustrating this perverse and exuberant respect for other people's opinion1 let me take passage from the ,times of ,march #cast1 #ahdf1 giving a detailed account of the execution of one ,thomas ,wix1 an apprentice who1 from motives of vengeance1 had murdered his master4 ,here we have very unusual circumstances and an extraordinary character1 though one very suitable for our purpose2 and these combine to give a striking picture of this folly1 which is so deeply rooted in human nature1 and allow us to form an accurate notion of the extent to which it will go4 ,on the morning of the execution1 says the report1 the rev4 ordinary was early in attendance upon him1 but ,wix1 beyond a quiet demeanor1 betrayed no interest in his ministrations1 appearing to feel anxious only to acquit himself bravely before the spectators of his ignomininous end4444 ,in the procession ,wix fell into his proper place with alacrity1 and1 as he entered the ,chapel-yard1 remarked1 sufficiently loud to be heard by several persons near him1 ,now1 then1 as ,dr4 ,dodd said1 ,i shall soon know the grand secret4 ,on reaching the scaffold1 the miserable wretch mounted the drop without the slightest assistance1 and when he got to the centre1 he bowed to the spectators twice1 a proceeding which called forth a tremendous cheer from the degraded crowd beneath4 ,this is an admirable example of the way in which a man1 with death in the most dreadful form before his very eyes1 and eternity beyond it1 will care for nothing but the impression he makes upon a crowd of gapers1 and the opinion he leaves behind him in their heads4 ,there was much the same kind of thing in the case of ,lecompte1 who was executed at ,frankfurt1 also in #ahdf1 for an attempt on the king's life4 ,at the trial he was very much annoyed that he was not allowed to appear1 in decent attire1 before the ,upper ,house2 and on the day of the execution it was a special grief to him that he was not permitted to shave4 ,it is not only in recent times that this kind of thing has been known to happen4 ,mateo ,aleman tells us1 in the ,introduction to his celebrated romance1 ,juzman de ,alfarache1 that many infatuated criminals1 instead of devoting their last hours to the welfare of their souls1 as they ought to have done1 neglect this duty for the purpose of preparing and committing to memory a speech to be made from the scaffold4 ,i take these extreme cases as being the best illustrations to what ,i mean2 for they give us a magnified reflection of our own nature4 ,the anxieties of all of us1 our worries1 vexations1 bothers1 troubles1 uneasy apprehensions and strenuous efforts are due1 in perhaps the large majority of instances1 to what other people will say2 and we are just as foolish in this respect as those miserable criminals4 ,envy and hatred are very often traceable to a similar source4 ,now1 it is obvious that happiness1 which consists for the most part in peace of mind and contentment1 would be served by nothing so much as by reducing this impulse of human nature within reasonable limits1--which would perhaps make it one fiftieth part of what it is now4 ,by doing so1 we should get rid of a thorn in the flesh which is always causing us pain4 ,but it is a very difficult task1 because the impulse in question is a natural and innate perversity of human nature4 ,tacitus says1 ,the lust of fame is the last that a wise man shakes off#a ,the only way of putting an end to this universal folly is to see clearly that it is a folly2 and this may be done by recognizing the fact that most of the opinions in men's heads are apt to be false1 perverse1 erroneous and absurd1 and so in themselves unworthy of attention2 further1 that other people's opinions can have very little real and positive influence upon us in most of the circumstances and affairs of life4 ,again1 this opinion is generally of such an unfavorable character that it would worry a man to death to hear everything that was said of him1 or the tone in which he was spoken of4 ,and finally1 among other things1 we should be clear about the fact that honor itself has no really direct1 but only an indirect1 value4 ,if people were generally converted from this universal folly1 the result would be such an addition to our piece of mind and cheerfulness as at present seems inconceivable2 people would present a firmer and more confident front to the world1 and generally behave with less embarrassment and restraint4 ,it is observable that a retired mode of life has an exceedingly beneficial influence on our peace of mind1 and this is mainly because we thus escape having to live constantly in the sight of others1 and pay everlasting regard to their casual opinions2 in a word1 we are able to return upon ourselves4 ,at the same time a good deal of positive misfortune might be avoided1 which we are now drawn into by striving after shadows1 or1 to speak more correctly1 by indulging a mischievous piece of folly2 and we should consequently have more attention to give to solid realities and enjoy them with less interruption that at present4 ,but ,greek3 chalepa ga kala--what is worth doing is hard to do4 ,footnote #a3 ,hist41 iv41 #f4 ,section #b4--,pride4 ,the folly of our nature which we are discussing puts forth three shoots1 ambition1 vanity and pride4 ,the difference between the last two is this3 pride is an established conviction of one's own paramount worth in some particular respect2 while vanity is the desire of rousing such a conviction in others1 and it is generally accompanied by the secret hope of ultimately coming to the same conviction oneself4 ,pride works from within2 it is the direct appreciation of oneself4 ,vanity is the desire to arrive at this appreciation indirectly1 from without4 ,so we find that vain people are talkative1 proud1 and taciturn4 ,but the vain person ought to be aware that the good opinion of others1 which he strives for1 may be obtained much more easily and certainly by persistent silence than by speech1 even though he has very good things to say4 ,anyone who wishes to affect pride is not therefore a proud man2 but he will soon have to drop this1 as every other1 assumed character4 ,it is only a firm1 unshakeable conviction of pre-eminent worth and special value which makes a man proud in the true sense of the word1--a conviction which may1 no doubt1 be a mistaken one or rest on advantages which are of an adventitious and conventional character3 still pride is not the less pride for all that1 so long as it be present in real earnest4 ,and since pride is thus rooted in conviction1 it resembles every other form of knowledge in not being within our own arbitrament4 ,pride's worst foe1--,i mean its greatest obstacle1--is vanity1 which courts the applause of the world in order to gain the necessary foundation for a high opinion of one's own worth1 whilst pride is based upon a pre-existing conviction of it4 ,it is quite true that pride is something which is generally found fault with1 and cried down2 but usually1 ,i imagine1 by those who have nothing upon which they can pride themselves4 ,in view of the impudence and foolhardiness of most people1 anyone who possesses any kind of superiority or merit will do well to keep his eyes fixed on it1 if he does not want it to be entirely forgotten2 for if a man is good-natured enough to ignore his own privileges1 and hob-nob with the generality of other people1 as if he were quite on their level1 they will be sure to treat him1 frankly and candidly1 as one of themselves4 ,this is a piece of advice ,i would specially offer to those whose superiority is of the highest kind--real superiority1 ,i mean1 of a purely personal nature--which cannot1 like orders and titles1 appeal to the eye or ear at every moment2 as1 otherwise1 they will find that familiarity breeds contempt1 or1 as the ,romans used to say1 sus ,minervam4 ,joke with a slave1 and he'll soon show his heels1 is an excellent ,arabian proverb2 nor ought we to despise what ,horace says1 ,sume superbiam ,quaesitam meritis4 --usurp the fame you have deserved4 ,no doubt1 when modesty was made a virtue1 it was a very advantageous thing for the fools2 for everybody is expected to speak of himself as if he were one4 ,this is leveling down indeed2 for it comes to look as if there were nothing but fools in the world4 ,the cheapest sort of pride is national pride2 for if a man is proud of his own nation1 it argues that he has no qualities of his own of which he can be proud2 otherwise he would not have recourse to those which he shares with so many millions of his fellowmen4 ,the man who is endowed with important personal qualities will be only too ready to see clearly in what respects his own nation falls short1 since their failings will be constantly before his eyes4 ,but every miserable fool who has nothing at all of which he can be proud adopts1 as a last resource1 pride in the nation to which he belongs2 he is ready and glad to defend all its faults and follies tooth and nail1 thus reimbursing himself for his own inferiority4 ,for example1 if you speak of the stupid and degrading bigotry of the ,english nation with the contempt it deserves1 you will hardly find one ,englishman in fifty to agree with you2 but if there should be one1 he will generally happen to be an intelligent man4 ,the ,germans have no national pride1 which shows how honest they are1 as everybody knows6 and how dishonest are those who1 by a piece of ridiculous affectation1 pretend that they are proud of their country--the ,deutsche ,bruder and the demagogues who flatter the mob in order to mislead it4 ,i have heard it said that gunpowder was invented by a ,german4 ,i doubt it4 ,lichtenberg asks1 ,why is it that a man who is not a ,german does not care about pretending that he is one2 and that if he makes any pretence at all1 it is to be a ,frenchman or an ,englishman8#a ,footnote #a3 ,translator's ,note4--,it should be remembered that these remarks were written in the earlier part of the present century1 and that a ,german philosopher now-a-days1 even though he were as apt to say bitter things as ,schopenhauer1 could hardly write in a similar strain4 ,however that may be1 individuality is a far more important thing than nationality1 and in any given man deserves a thousand-fold more consideration4 ,and since you cannot speak of national character without referring to large masses of people1 it is impossible to be loud in your praises and at the same time honest4 ,national character is only another name for the particular form which the littleness1 perversity and baseness of mankind take in every country4 ,if we become disgusted with one1 we praise another1 until we get disgusted with this too4 ,every nation mocks at other nations1 and all are right4 ,the contents of this chapter1 which treats1 as ,i have said1 of what we represent in the world1 or what we are in the eyes of others1 may be further distributed under three heads3 honor rank and fame4 ,section #c4--,rank4 ,let us take rank first1 as it may be dismissed in a few words1 although it plays an important part in the eyes of the masses and of the philistines1 and is a most useful wheel in the machinery of the ,state4 ,it has a purely conventional value4 ,strictly speaking1 it is a sham2 its method is to exact an artificial respect1 and1 as a matter of fact1 the whole thing is a mere farce4 ,orders1 it may be said1 are bills of exchange drawn on public opinion1 and the measure of their value is the credit of the drawer4 ,of course1 as a substitute for pensions1 they save the ,state a good deal of money2 and1 besides1 they serve a very useful purpose1 if they are distributed with discrimination and judgment4 ,for people in general have eyes and ears1 it is true2 but not much else1 very little judgment indeed1 or even memory4 ,there are many services of the ,state quite beyond the range of their understanding2 others1 again1 are appreciated and made much of for a time1 and then soon forgotten4 ,it seems to me1 therefore1 very proper1 that a cross or a star should proclaim to the mass of people always and everywhere1 ,this man is not like you2 he has done something4 ,but orders lose their value when they are distributed unjustly1 or without due selection1 or in too great numbers3 a prince should be as careful in conferring them as a man of business is in signing a bill4 ,it is a pleonasm to inscribe on any order for distinguished service2 for every order ought to be for distinguished service4 ,that stands to reason4 ,section #d4--;,honor4 ,honor is a much larger question than rank1 and more difficult to discuss4 ,let us begin by trying to define it4 ,if ,i were to say ,honor is external conscience1 and conscience is inward honor1 no doubt a good many people would assent2 but there would be more show than reality about such a definition1 and it would hardly go to the root of the matter4 ,i prefer to say1 ,honor is1 on its objective side1 other people's opinion of what we are worth2 on its subjective side1 it is the respect we pay to this opinion4 ,from the latter point of view1 to be a man of honor is to exercise what is often a very wholesome1 but by no means a purely moral1 influence4 ,the feelings of honor and shame exist in every man who is not utterly depraved1 and honor is everywhere recognized as something particularly valuable4 ,the reason of this is as follows4 ,by and in himself a man can accomplish very little2 he is like ,robinson ,crusoe on a desert island4 ,it is only in society that a man's powers can be called into full activity4 ,he very soon finds this out when his consciousness begins to develop1 and there arises in him the desire to be looked upon as a useful member of society1 as one1 that is1 who is capable of playing his part as a man--pro parte virili--thereby acquiring a right to the benefits of social life4 ,now1 to be a useful member of society1 one must do two things3 firstly1 what everyone is expected to do everywhere2 and1 secondly1 what one's own particular position in the world demands and requires4 ,but a man soon discovers that everything depends upon his being useful1 not in his own opinion1 but in the opinion of others2 and so he tries his best to make that favorable impression upon the world1 to which he attaches such a high value4 ,hence1 this primitive and innate characteristic of human nature1 which is called the feeling of honor1 or1 under another aspect1 the feeling of shame--verecundia4 ,it is this which brings a blush to his cheeks at the thought of having suddenly to fall in the estimation of others1 even when he knows that he is innocent1 nay1 even if his remissness extends to no absolute obligation1 but only to one which he has taken upon himself of his own free will4 ,conversely1 nothing in life gives a man so much courage as the attainment or renewal of the conviction that other people regard him with favor2 because it means that everyone joins to give him help and protection1 which is an infinitely stronger bulwark against the ills of life than anything he can do himself4 ,the variety of relations in which a man can stand to other people so as to obtain their confidence1 that is1 their good opinion1 gives rise to a distinction between several kinds of honor1 resting chiefly on the different bearings that meum may take to tuum2 or1 again1 on the performance of various pledges2 or finally1 on the relation of the sexes4 ,hence1 there are three main kinds of honor1 each of which takes various forms--civic honor1 official honor1 and sexual honor4 ,civic honor has the widest sphere of all4 ,it consists in the assumption that we shall pay unconditional respect to the rights of others1 and1 therefore1 never use any unjust or unlawful means of getting what we want4 ,it is the condition of all peaceable intercourse between man and man2 and it is destroyed by anything that openly and manifestly militates against this peaceable intercourse1 anything1 accordingly1 which entails punishment at the hands of the law1 always supposing that the punishment is a just one4 ,the ultimate foundation of honor is the conviction that moral character is unalterable3 a single bad action implies that future actions of the same kind will1 under similar circumstances1 also be bad4 ,this is well expressed by the ,english use of the word character as meaning credit1 reputation1 honor4 ,hence honor1 once lost1 can never be recovered2 unless the loss rested on some mistake1 such as may occur if a man is slandered or his actions viewed in a false light4 ,so the law provides remedies against slander1 libel1 and even insult2 for insult though it amounts to no more than mere abuse1 is a kind of summary slander with a suppression of the reasons4 ,what ,i mean may be well put in the ,greek phrase--not quoted from any author--,greek3 estin hae loidoria diabolae4 ,it is true that if a man abuses another1 he is simply showing that he has no real or true causes of complaint against him2 as1 otherwise1 he would bring these forward as the premises1 and rely upon his hearers to draw the conclusion themselves3 instead of which1 he gives the conclusion and leaves out the premises1 trusting that people will suppose that he has done so only for the sake of being brief4 ,civic honor draws its existence and name from the middle classes2 but it applies equally to all1 not excepting the highest4 ,no man can disregard it1 and it is a very serious thing1 of which every one should be careful not to make light4 ,the man who breaks confidence has for ever forfeited confidence1 whatever he may do1 and whoever he may be2 and the bitter consequences of the loss of confidence can never be averted4 ,there is a sense in which honor may be said to have a negative character in opposition to the positive character of fame4 ,for honor is not the opinion people have of particular qualities which a man may happen to possess exclusively3 it is rather the opinion they have of the qualities which a man may be expected to exhibit1 and to which he should not prove false4 ,honor1 therefore1 means that a man is not exceptional2 fame1 that he is4 ,fame is something which must be won2 honor1 only something which must not be lost4 ,the absence of fame is obscurity1 which is only a negative2 but loss of honor is shame1 which is a positive quality4 ,this negative character of honor must not be confused with anything passive2 for honor is above all things active in its working4 ,it is the only quality which proceeds directly from the man who exhibits it2 it is concerned entirely with what he does and leaves undone1 and has nothing to do with the actions of others or the obstacles they place in his way4 ,it is something entirely in our own power--,greek3 ton ephaemon4 ,this distinction1 as we shall see presently1 marks off true honor from the sham honor of chivalry4 ,slander is the only weapon by which honor can be attacked from without2 and the only way to repel the attack is to confute the slander with the proper amount of publicity1 and a due unmasking of him who utters it4 ,the reason why respect is paid to age is that old people have necessarily shown in the course of their lives whether or not they have been able to maintain their honor unblemished2 while that of young people has not been put to the proof1 though they are credited with the possession of it4 ,for neither length of years1--equalled1 as it is1 and even excelled1 in the case of the lower animals1--nor1 again1 experience1 which is only a closer knowledge of the world's ways1 can be any sufficient reason for the respect which the young are everywhere required to show towards the old3 for if it were merely a matter of years1 the weakness which attends on age would call rather for consideration than for respect4 ,it is1 however1 a remarkable fact that white hair always commands reverence--a reverence really innate and instinctive4 ,wrinkles--a much surer sign of old age--command no reverence at all2 you never hear any one speak of venerable wrinkles2 but venerable white hair is a common expression4 ,honor has only an indirect value4 ,for1 as ,i explained at the beginning of this chapter1 what other people think of us1 if it affects us at all1 can affect us only in so far as it governs their behavior towards us1 and only just so long as we live with1 or have to do with1 them4 ,but it is to society alone that we owe that safety which we and our possessions enjoy in a state of civilization2 in all we do we need the help of others1 and they1 in their turn1 must have confidence in us before they can have anything to do with us4 ,accordingly1 their opinion of us is1 indirectly1 a matter of great importance2 though ,i cannot see how it can have a direct or immediate value4 ,this is an opinion also held by ,cicero4 ,i quite agree1 he writes1 with what ,chrysippus and ,diogenes used to say1 that a good reputation is not worth raising a finger to obtain1 if it were not that it is so useful4#a ,this truth has been insisted upon at great length by ,helvetius in his chief work ,de l',esprit1#b the conclusion of which is that we love esteem not for its own sake1 but solely for the advantages which it brings4 ,and as the means can never be more than the end1 that saying1 of which so much is made1 ,honor is dearer than life itself1 is1 as ,i have remarked1 a very exaggerated statement4 ,so much then1 for civic honor4 ,footnote #a3 ,de finilus iii41 #ag4 ,footnote #b3 ,disc3 iii4 #ag4 ,official honor is the general opinion of other people that a man who fills any office really has the necessary qualities for the proper discharge of all the duties which appertain to it4 ,the greater and more important the duties a man has to discharge in the ,state1 and the higher and more influential the office which he fills1 the stronger must be the opinion which people have of the moral and intellectual qualities which render him fit for his post4 ,therefore1 the higher his position1 the greater must be the degree of honor paid to him1 expressed1 as it is1 in titles1 orders and the generally subservient behavior of others towards him4 ,as a rule1 a man's official rank implies the particular degree of honor which ought to be paid to him1 however much this degree may be modified by the capacity of the masses to form any notion of its importance4 ,still1 as a matter of fact1 greater honor is paid to a man who fulfills special duties than to the common citizen1 whose honor mainly consists in keeping clear of dishonor4 ,official honor demands1 further1 that the man who occupies an office must maintain respect for it1 for the sake both of his colleagues and of those who will come after him4 ,this respect an official can maintain by a proper observance of his duties1 and by repelling any attack that may be made upon the office itself or upon its occupant3 he must not1 for instance1 pass over unheeded any statement to the effect that the duties of the office are not properly discharged1 or that the office itself does not conduce to the public welfare4 ,he must prove the unwarrantable nature of such attacks by enforcing the legal penalty for them4 ,subordinate to the honor of official personages comes that of those who serve the ,state in any other capacity1 as doctors1 lawyers1 teachers1 anyone1 in short1 who1 by graduating in any subject1 or by any other public declaration that he is qualified to exercise some special skill1 claims to practice it2 in a word1 the honor of all those who take any public pledges whatever4 ,under this head comes military honor1 in the true sense of the word1 the opinion that people who have bound themselves to defend their country really possess the requisite qualities which will enable them to do so1 especially courage1 personal bravery and strength1 and that they are perfectly ready to defend their country to the death1 and never and under any circumstances desert the flag to which they have once sworn allegiance4 ,i have here taken official honor in a wider sense than that in which it is generally used1 namely1 the respect due by citizens to an office itself4 ,in treating of sexual honor and the principles on which it rests1 a little more attention and analysis are necessary2 and what ,i shall say will support my contention that all honor really rests upon a utilitarian basis4 ,there are two natural divisions of the subject--the honor of women and the honor of men1 in either side issuing in a well-understood esprit de corps4 ,the former is by far the more important of the two1 because the most essential feature in woman's life is her relation to man4 ,female honor is the general opinion in regard to a girl that she is pure1 and in regard to a wife that she is faithful4 ,the importance of this opinion rests upon the following considerations4 ,women depend upon men in all the relations of life2 men upon women1 it might be said1 in one only4 ,so an arrangement is made for mutual interdependence--man undertaking responsibility for all woman's needs and also for the children that spring from their union--an arrangement on which is based the welfare of the whole female race4 ,to carry out this plan1 women have to band together with a show of esprit de corps1 and present one undivided front to their common enemy1 man1--who possesses all the good things of the earth1 in virtue of his superior physical and intellectual power1--in order to lay siege to and conquer him1 and so get possession of him and a share of those good things4 ,to this end the honor of all women depends upon the enforcement of the rule that no woman should give herself to a man except in marriage1 in order that every man may be forced1 as it were1 to surrender and ally himself with a woman2 by this arrangement provision is made for the whole of the female race4 ,this is a result1 however1 which can be obtained only by a strict observance of the rule2 and1 accordingly1 women everywhere show true esprit de corps in carefully insisting upon its maintenance4 ,any girl who commits a breach of the rule betrays the whole female race1 because its welfare would be destroyed if every woman were to do likewise2 so she is cast out with shame as one who has lost her honor4 ,no woman will have anything more to do with her2 she is avoided like the plague4 ,the same doom is awarded to a woman who breaks the marriage tie2 for in so doing she is false to the terms upon which the man capitulated2 and as her conduct is such as to frighten other men from making a similar surrender1 it imperils the welfare of all her sisters4 ,nay1 more2 this deception and coarse breach of troth is a crime punishable by the loss1 not only of personal1 but also of civic honor4 ,this is why we minimize the shame of a girl1 but not of a wife2 because1 in the former case1 marriage can restore honor1 while in the latter1 no atonement can be made for the breach of contract4 ,once this esprit de corps is acknowledged to be the foundation of female honor1 and is seen to be a wholesome1 nay1 a necessary arrangement1 as at bottom a matter of prudence and interest1 its extreme importance for the welfare of women will be recognized4 ,but it does not possess anything more than a relative value4 ,it is no absolute end1 lying beyond all other aims of existence and valued above life itself4 ,in this view1 there will be nothing to applaud in the forced and extravagant conduct of a ,lucretia or a ,virginius--conduct which can easily degenerate into tragic farce1 and produce a terrible feeling of revulsion4 ,the conclusion of ,emilia ,galotti1 for instance1 makes one leave the theatre completely ill at ease2 and1 on the other hand1 all the rules of female honor cannot prevent a certain sympathy with ,clara in ,egmont4 ,to carry this principle of female honor too far is to forget the end in thinking of the means--and this is just what people often do2 for such exaggeration suggests that the value of sexual honor is absolute2 while the truth is that it is more relative than any other kind4 ,one might go so far as to say that its value is purely conventional1 when one sees from ,thomasius how in all ages and countries1 up to the time of the ,reformation1 irregularities were permitted and recognized by law1 with no derogation to female honor1--not to speak of the temple of ,mylitta at ,babylon4#a ,footnote #a3 ,heroditus1 i4 #aii4 ,there are also of course certain circumstances in civil life which make external forms of marriage impossible1 especially in ,catholic countries1 where there is no such thing as divorce4 ,ruling princes everywhere1 would1 in my opinion1 do much better1 from a moral point of view1 to dispense with forms altogether rather than contract a morganatic marriage1 the descendants of which might raise claims to the throne if the legitimate stock happened to die out2 so that there is a possibility1 though1 perhaps1 a remote one1 that a morganatic marriage might produce a civil war4 ,and1 besides1 such a marriage1 concluded in defiance of all outward ceremony1 is a concession made to women and priests--two classes of persons to whom one should be most careful to give as little tether as possible4 ,it is further to be remarked that every man in a country can marry the woman of his choice1 except one poor individual1 namely1 the prince4 ,his hand belongs to his country1 and can be given in marriage only for reasons of ,state1 that is1 for the good of the country4 ,still1 for all that1 he is a man2 and1 as a man1 he likes to follow whither his heart leads4 ,it is an unjust1 ungrateful and priggish thing to forbid1 or to desire to forbid1 a prince from following his inclinations in this matter2 of course1 as long as the lady has no influence upon the ,government of the country4 ,from her point of view she occupies an exceptional position1 and does not come under the ordinary rules of sexual honor2 for she has merely given herself to a man who loves her1 and whom she loves but cannot marry4 ,and in general1 the fact that the principle of female honor has no origin in nature1 is shown by the many bloody sacrifices which have been offered to it1--the murder of children and the mother's suicide4 ,no doubt a girl who contravenes the code commits a breach of faith against her whole sex2 but this faith is one which is only secretly taken for granted1 and not sworn to4 ,and since1 in most cases1 her own prospects suffer most immediately1 her folly is infinitely greater than her crime4 ,the corresponding virtue in men is a product of the one ,i have been discussing4 ,it is their esprit de corps1 which demands that1 once a man has made that surrender of himself in marriage which is so advantageous to his conqueror1 he shall take care that the terms of the treaty are maintained2 both in order that the agreement itself may lose none of its force by the permission of any laxity in its observance1 and that men1 having given up everything1 may1 at least1 be assured of their bargain1 namely1 exclusive possession4 ,accordingly1 it is part of a man's honor to resent a breach of the marriage tie on the part of his wife1 and to punish it1 at the very least by separating from her4 ,if he condones the offence1 his fellowmen cry shame upon him2 but the shame in this case is not nearly so foul as that of the woman who has lost her honor2 the stain is by no means of so deep a dye--levioris notae macula2--because a man's relation to woman is subordinate to many other and more important affairs in his life4 ,the two great dramatic poets of modern times have each taken man's honor as the theme of two plays2 ,shakespeare in ,othello and ,the ,winter's ,tale1 and ,calderon in ,el medico de su honra1 7,the ,physician of his ,honor71 and ,a secreto agravio secreta venganza1 7for ,secret ,insult ,secret ,vengeance74 ,it should be said1 however1 that honor demands the punishment of the wife only2 to punish her paramour too1 is a work of supererogation4 ,this confirms the view ,i have taken1 that a man's honor originates in esprit de corps4 ,the kind of honor which ,i have been discussing hitherto has always existed in its various forms and principles amongst all nations and at all times2 although the history of female honor shows that its principles have undergone certain local modifications at different periods4 ,but there is another species of honor which differs from this entirely1 a species of honor of which the ,greeks and ,romans had no conception1 and up to this day it is perfectly unknown amongst ,chinese1 ,hindoos or ,mohammedans4 ,it is a kind of honor which arose only in the ,middle ,age1 and is indigenous only to ,christian ,europe1 nay1 only to an extremely small portion of the population1 that is to say1 the higher classes of society and those who ape them4 ,it is knightly honor1 or point d'honneur4 ,its principles are quite different from those which underlie the kind of honor ,i have been treating until now1 and in some respects are even opposed to them4 ,the sort ,i am referring to produces the cavalier2 while the other kind creates the man of honor4 ,as this is so1 ,i shall proceed to give an explanation of its principles1 as a kind of code or mirror of knightly courtesy4 7#a47 ,to begin with1 honor of this sort consists1 not in other people's opinion of what we are worth1 but wholly and entirely in whether they express it or not1 no matter whether they really have any opinion at all1 let alone whether they know of reasons for having one4 ,other people may entertain the worst opinion of us in consequence of what we do1 and may despise us as much as they like2 so long as no one dares to give expression to his opinion1 our honor remains untarnished4 ,so if our actions and qualities compel the highest respect from other people1 and they have no option but to give this respect1--as soon as anyone1 no matter how wicked or foolish he may be1 utters something depreciatory of us1 our honor is offended1 nay1 gone for ever1 unless we can manage to restore it4 ,a superfluous proof of what ,i say1 namely1 that knightly honor depends1 not upon what people think1 but upon what they say1 is furnished by the fact that insults can be withdrawn1 or1 if necessary1 form the subject of an apology1 which makes them as though they had never been uttered4 ,whether the opinion which underlays the expression has also been rectified1 and why the expression should ever have been used1 are questions which are perfectly unimportant3 so long as the statement is withdrawn1 all is well4 ,the truth is that conduct of this kind aims1 not at earning respect1 but at extorting it4 7#b47 ,in the second place1 this sort of honor rests1 not on what a man does1 but on what he suffers1 the obstacles he encounters2 differing from the honor which prevails in all else1 in consisting1 not in what he says or does himself1 but in what another man says or does4 ,his honor is thus at the mercy of every man who can talk it away on the tip of his tongue2 and if he attacks it1 in a moment it is gone for ever1--unless the man who is attacked manages to wrest it back again by a process which ,i shall mention presently1 a process which involves danger to his life1 health1 freedom1 property and peace of mind4 ,a man's whole conduct may be in accordance with the most righteous and noble principles1 his spirit may be the purest that ever breathed1 his intellect of the very highest order2 and yet his honor may disappear the moment that anyone is pleased to insult him1 anyone at all who has not offended against this code of honor himself1 let him be the most worthless rascal or the most stupid beast1 an idler1 gambler1 debtor1 a man1 in short1 of no account at all4 ,it is usually this sort of fellow who likes to insult people2 for1 as ,seneca#a rightly remarks1 ut quisque contemtissimus et ludibrio est1 ita solutissimae est1 the more contemptible and ridiculous a man is1--the readier he is with his tongue4 ,his insults are most likely to be directed against the very kind of man ,i have described1 because people of different tastes can never be friends1 and the sight of pre-eminent merit is apt to raise the secret ire of a ne'er-do-well4 ,what ,goethe says in the ,weststlicher ,divan is quite true1 that it is useless to complain against your enemies2 for they can never become your friends1 if your whole being is a standing reproach to them3-- ,was klagst du ber ,feinde8 ,sollten ,solche je warden ,freunde ,denen das ,wesen1 wie du bist1 ,im stillen ein ewiger ,vorwurf ist8 ,footnote #a3 ,de ,constantia1 #aa4 ,it is obvious that people of this worthless description have good cause to be thankful to the principle of honor1 because it puts them on a level with people who in every other respect stand far above them4 ,if a fellow likes to insult any one1 attribute to him1 for example1 some bad quality1 this is taken prima facie as a well-founded opinion1 true in fact2 a decree1 as it were1 with all the force of law2 nay1 if it is not at once wiped out in blood1 it is a judgment which holds good and valid to all time4 ,in other words1 the man who is insulted remains--in the eyes of all honorable people--what the man who uttered the insult--even though he were the greatest wretch on earth--was pleased to call him2 for he has put up with the insult--the technical term1 ,i believe4 ,accordingly1 all honorable people will have nothing more to do with him1 and treat him like a leper1 and1 it may be1 refuse to go into any company where he may be found1 and so on4 ,this wise proceeding may1 ,i think1 be traced back to the fact that in the ,middle ,age1 up to the fifteenth century1 it was not the accuser in any criminal process who had to prove the guilt of the accused1 but the accused who had to prove his innocence4#a ,this he could do by swearing he was not guilty2 and his backers--consacramentales--had to come and swear that in their opinion he was incapable of perjury4 ,if he could find no one to help him in this way1 or the accuser took objection to his backers1 recourse was had to trial by the ,judgment of ,god1 which generally meant a duel4 ,for the accused was now in disgrace1#b and had to clear himself4 ,here1 then1 is the origin of the notion of disgrace1 and of that whole system which prevails now-a-days amongst honorable people--only that the oath is omitted4 ,this is also the explanation of that deep feeling of indignation which honorable people are called upon to show if they are given the lie2 it is a reproach which they say must be wiped out in blood4 ,it seldom comes to this pass1 however1 though lies are of common occurrence2 but in ,england1 more than elsewhere1 it is a superstition which has taken very deep root4 ,as a matter of order1 a man who threatens to kill another for telling a lie should never have told one himself4 ,the fact is1 that the criminal trial of the ,middle ,age also admitted of a shorter form4 ,in reply to the charge1 the accused answered3 ,that is a lie2 whereupon it was left to be decided by the ,judgment of ,god4 ,hence1 the code of knightly honor prescribes that1 when the lie is given1 an appeal to arms follows as a matter of course4 ,so much1 then1 for the theory of insult4 ,footnote #a3 ,see ,c4,g4 von ,waehter's ,beitrge zur deutschen ,geschichte1 especially the chapter on criminal law4 ,footnote #b3 ,translator's ,note4--,it is true that this expression has another special meaning in the technical terminology of ,chivalry1 but it is the nearest ,english equivalent which ,i can find for the ,german--ein ,bescholtener ,but there is something even worse than insult1 something so dreadful that ,i must beg pardon of all honorable people for so much as mentioning it in this code of knightly honor2 for ,i know they will shiver1 and their hair will stand on end1 at the very thought of it--the summum malum1 the greatest evil on earth1 worse than death and damnation4 ,a man may give another--horrible dictu6--a slap or a blow4 ,this is such an awful thing1 and so utterly fatal to all honor1 that1 while any other species of insult may be healed by blood-letting1 this can be cured only by the coup-de-grace4 7#c47 ,in the third place1 this kind of honor has absolutely nothing to do with what a man may be in and for himself2 or1 again1 with the question whether his moral character can ever become better or worse1 and all such pedantic inquiries4 ,if your honor happens to be attacked1 or to all appearances gone1 it can very soon be restored in its entirety if you are only quick enough in having recourse to the one universal remedy--a duel4 ,but if the aggressor does not belong to the classes which recognize the code of knightly honor1 or has himself once offended against it1 there is a safer way of meeting any attack upon your honor1 whether it consists in blows1 or merely in words4 ,if you are armed1 you can strike down your opponent on the spot1 or perhaps an hour later4 ,this will restore your honor4 ,but if you wish to avoid such an extreme step1 from fear of any unpleasant consequences arising therefrom1 or from uncertainty as to whether the aggressor is subject to the laws of knightly honor or not1 there is another means of making your position good1 namely1 the ,avantage4 ,this consists in returning rudeness with still greater rudeness2 and if insults are no use1 you can try a blow1 which forms a sort of climax in the redemption of your honor2 for instance1 a box on the ear may be cured by a blow with a stick1 and a blow with a stick by a thrashing with a horsewhip2 and1 as the approved remedy for this last1 some people recommend you to spit at your opponent4#a ,if all these means are of no avail1 you must not shrink from drawing blood4 ,and the reason for these methods of wiping out insult is1 in this code1 as follows3 ,footnote #a3 ,translator's ,note4 ,it must be remembered that ,schopenhauer is here describing1 or perhaps caricaturing the manners and customs of the ,german aristocracy of half a century ago4 ,now1 of course1 nous avons change tout cela6 7#d47 ,to receive an insult is disgraceful2 to give one1 honorable4 ,let me take an example4 ,my opponent has truth1 right and reason on his side4 ,very well4 ,i insult him4 ,thereupon right and honor leave him and come to me1 and1 for the time being1 he has lost them--until he gets them back1 not by the exercise of right or reason1 but by shooting and sticking me4 ,accordingly1 rudeness is a quality which1 in point of honor1 is a substitute for any other and outweighs them all4 ,the rudest is always right4 ,what more do you want8 ,however stupid1 bad or wicked a man may have been1 if he is only rude into the bargain1 he condones and legitimizes all his faults4 ,if in any discussion or conversation1 another man shows more knowledge1 greater love of truth1 a sounder judgment1 better understanding than we1 or generally exhibits intellectual qualities which cast ours into the shade1 we can at once annul his superiority and our own shallowness1 and in our turn be superior to him1 by being insulting and offensive4 ,for rudeness is better than any argument2 it totally eclipses intellect4 ,if our opponent does not care for our mode of attack1 and will not answer still more rudely1 so as to plunge us into the ignoble rivalry of the ,avantage1 we are the victors and honor is on our side4 ,truth1 knowledge1 understanding1 intellect1 wit1 must beat a retreat and leave the field to this almighty insolence4 ,honorable people immediately make a show of mounting their war-horse1 if anyone utters an opinion adverse to theirs1 or shows more intelligence than they can muster2 and if in any controversy they are at a loss for a reply1 they look about for some weapon of rudeness1 which will serve as well and come readier to hand2 so they retire masters of the position4 ,it must now be obvious that people are quite right in applauding this principle of honor as having ennobled the tone of society4 ,this principle springs from another1 which forms the heart and soul of the entire code4 7#e47 ,fifthly1 the code implies that the highest court to which a man can appeal in any differences he may have with another on a point of honor is the court of physical force1 that is1 of brutality4 ,every piece of rudeness is1 strictly speaking1 an appeal to brutality2 for it is a declaration that intellectual strength and moral insight are incompetent to decide1 and that the battle must be fought out by physical force--a struggle which1 in the case of man1 whom ,franklin defines as a tool-making animal1 is decided by the weapons peculiar to the species2 and the decision is irrevocable4 ,this is the well-known principle of right of might--irony1 of course1 like the wit of a fool1 a parallel phrase4 ,the honor of a knight may be called the glory of might4 7#f47 ,lastly1 if1 as we saw above1 civic honor is very scrupulous in the matter of meum and tuum1 paying great respect to obligations and a promise once made1 the code we are here discussing displays1 on the other hand1 the noblest liberality4 ,there is only one word which may not be broken1 the word of honor--upon my honor1 as people say--the presumption being1 of course1 that every other form of promise may be broken4 ,nay1 if the worst comes to the worst1 it is easy to break even one's word of honor1 and still remain honorable--again by adopting that universal remedy1 the duel1 and fighting with those who maintain that we pledged our word4 ,further1 there is one debt1 and one alone1 that under no circumstances must be left unpaid--a gambling debt1 which has accordingly been called a debt of honor4 ,in all other kinds of debt you may cheat ,jews and ,christians as much as you like2 and your knightly honor remains without a stain4 ,the unprejudiced reader will see at once that such a strange1 savage and ridiculous code of honor as this has no foundation in human nature1 nor any warrant in a healthy view of human affairs4 ,the extremely narrow sphere of its operation serves only to intensify the feeling1 which is exclusively confined to ,europe since the ,middle ,age1 and then only to the upper classes1 officers and soldiers1 and people who imitate them4 ,neither ,greeks nor ,romans knew anything of this code of honor or of its principles2 nor the highly civilized nations of ,asia1 ancient or modern4 ,amongst them no other kind of honor is recognized but that which ,i discussed first1 in virtue of which a man is what he shows himself to be by his actions1 not what any wagging tongue is pleased to say of him4 ,they thought that what a man said or did might perhaps affect his own honor1 but not any other man's4 ,to them1 a blow was but a blow--and any horse or donkey could give a harder one--a blow which under certain circumstances might make a man angry and demand immediate vengeance2 but it had nothing to do with honor4 ,no one kept account of blows or insulting words1 or of the satisfaction which was demanded or omitted to be demanded4 ,yet in personal bravery and contempt of death1 the ancients were certainly not inferior to the nations of ,christian ,europe4 ,the ,greeks and ,romans were thorough heroes1 if you like2 but they knew nothing about point d'honneur4 ,if they had any idea of a duel1 it was totally unconnected with the life of the nobles2 it was merely the exhibition of mercenary gladiators1 slaves devoted to slaughter1 condemned criminals1 who1 alternately with wild beasts1 were set to butcher one another to make a ,roman holiday4 ,when ,christianity was introduced1 gladiatorial shows were done away with1 and their place taken1 in ,christian times1 by the duel1 which was a way of settling difficulties by the ,judgment of ,god4 ,if the gladiatorial fight was a cruel sacrifice to the prevailing desire for great spectacles1 dueling is a cruel sacrifice to existing prejudices--a sacrifice1 not of criminals1 slaves and prisoners1 but of the noble and the free4#a ,footnote #a3 ,translator's ,note4 ,these and other remarks on dueling will no doubt wear a belated look to ,english readers2 but they are hardly yet antiquated for most parts of the ,continent4 ,there are a great many traits in the character of the ancients which show that they were entirely free from these prejudices4 ,when1 for instance1 ,marius was summoned to a duel by a ,teutonic chief1 he returned answer to the effect that1 if the chief were tired of his life1 he might go and hang himself2 at the same time he offered him a veteran gladiator for a round or two4 ,plutarch relates in his life of ,themistocles that ,eurybiades1 who was in command of the fleet1 once raised his stick to strike him2 whereupon ,themistocles1 instead of drawing his sword1 simply said3 ,strike1 but hear me4 ,how sorry the reader must be1 if he is an honorable man1 to find that we have no information that the ,athenian officers refused in a body to serve any longer under ,themistocles1 if he acted like that6 ,there is a modern ,french writer who declares that if anyone considers ,demosthenes a man of honor1 his ignorance will excite a smile of pity2 and that ,cicero was not a man of honor either6#a ,in a certain passage in ,plato's ,laws#b the philosopher speaks at length of ,greek3 aikia or assault1 showing us clearly enough that the ancients had no notion of any feeling of honor in connection with such matters4 ,socrates' frequent discussions were often followed by his being severely handled1 and he bore it all mildly4 ,once1 for instance1 when somebody kicked him1 the patience with which he took the insult surprised one of his friends4 ,do you think1 said ,socrates1 that if an ass happened to kick me1 ,i should resent it8#c ,on another occasion1 when he was asked1 ,has not that fellow abused and insulted you8 ,no1 was his answer1 what he says is not addressed to me#d ,stobaeus has preserved a long passage from ,musonius1 from which we can see how the ancients treated insults4 ,they knew no other form of satisfaction than that which the law provided1 and wise people despised even this4 ,if a ,greek received a box on the ear1 he could get satisfaction by the aid of the law2 as is evident from ,plato's ,gorgias1 where ,socrates' opinion may be found4 ,the same thing may be seen in the account given by ,gellius of one ,lucius ,veratius1 who had the audacity to give some ,roman citizens whom he met on the road a box on the ear1 without any provocation whatever2 but to avoid any ulterior consequences1 he told a slave to bring a bag of small money1 and on the spot paid the trivial legal penalty to the men whom he had astonished by his conduct4 ,footnote #a3litteraires3 par ,c4 ,durand4 ,rouen1 #ahbh4 ,footnote #b3 ,bk4 ,,ix44 ,footnote #c3 ,diogenes ,laertius1 ii41 #ba4 ,footnote #d3 ,ibid #cf4 ,crates1 the celebrated ,cynic philosopher1 got such a box on the ear from ,nicodromus1 the musician1 that his face swelled up and became black and blue2 whereupon he put a label on his forehead1 with the inscription1 ,nicodromus fecit1 which brought much disgrace to the fluteplayer who had committed such a piece of brutality upon the man whom all ,athens honored as a household god4#a ,and in a letter to ,melesippus1 ,diogenes of ,sinope tells us that he got a beating from the drunken sons of the ,athenians2 but he adds that it was a matter of no importance4#b ,and ,seneca devotes the last few chapters of his ,de ,constantia to a lengthy discussion on insult--contumelia2 in order to show that a wise man will take no notice of it4 ,in ,chapter ,,xiv1 he says1 ,what shall a wise man do1 if he is given a blow8 ,what ,cato did1 when some one struck him on the mouth2--not fire up or avenge the insult1 or even return the blow1 but simply ignore it4 ,footnote #a3 ,diogenes ,laertius1 vi4 #hg1 and ,apul3 ,flor3 p4 #abf4 ,footnote #b3 ,cf4 ,casaubon's ,note1 ,diog4 ,laert41 vi4 #cc4 ,yes1 you say1 but these men were philosophers4--,and you are fools1 eh8 ,precisely4 ,it is clear that the whole code of knightly honor was utterly unknown to the ancients2 for the simple reason that they always took a natural and unprejudiced view of human affairs1 and did not allow themselves to be influenced by any such vicious and abominable folly4 ,a blow in the face was to them a blow and nothing more1 a trivial physical injury2 whereas the moderns make a catastrophe out of it1 a theme for a tragedy2 as1 for instance1 in the ,cid of ,corneille1 or in a recent ,german comedy of middle-class life1 called ,the ,power of ,circumstance1 which should have been entitled ,the ,power of ,prejudice4 ,if a member of the ,national ,assembly at ,paris got a blow on the ear1 it would resound from one end of ,europe to the other4 ,the examples which ,i have given of the way in which such an occurrence would have been treated in classic times may not suit the ideas of honorable people2 so let me recommend to their notice1 as a kind of antidote1 the story of ,monsieur ,desglands in ,diderot's masterpiece1 ,jacques le fataliste4 ,it is an excellent specimen of modern knightly honor1 which1 no doubt1 they will find enjoyable and edifying4#a ,footnote3 #a3 ,translator's ,note4 ,the story to which ,schopenhauer here refers is briefly as follows3 ,two gentlemen1 one of whom was named ,desglands1 were paying court to the same lady4 ,as they sat at table side by side1 with the lady opposite1 ,desglands did his best to charm her with his conversation2 but she pretended not to hear him1 and kept looking at his rival4 ,in the agony of jealousy1 ,desglands1 as he was holding a fresh egg in his hand1 involuntarily crushed it2 the shell broke1 and its contents bespattered his rival's face4 ,seeing him raise his hand1 ,desglands seized it and whispered3 ,sir1 ,i take it as given4 ,the next day ,desglands appeared with a large piece of black sticking-plaster upon his right cheek4 ,in the duel which followed1 ,desglands severely wounded his rival2 upon which he reduced the size of the plaster4 ,when his rival recovered1 they had another duel2 ,desglands drew blood again1 and again made his plaster a little smaller2 and so on for five or six times4 ,after every duel ,desglands' plaster grew less and less1 until at last his rival4 ,from what ,i have said it must be quite evident that the principle of knightly honor has no essential and spontaneous origin in human nature4 ,it is an artificial product1 and its source is not hard to find4 ,its existence obviously dates from the time when people used their fists more than their heads1 when priestcraft had enchained the human intellect1 the much bepraised ,middle ,age1 with its system of chivalry4 ,that was the time when people let the ,almighty not only care for them but judge for them too2 when difficult cases were decided by an ordeal1 a ,judgment of ,god2 which1 with few exceptions1 meant a duel1 not only where nobles were concerned1 but in the case of ordinary citizens as well4 ,there is a neat illustration of this in ,shakespeare's ,henry ,,vi4#a ,every judicial sentence was subject to an appeal to arms--a court1 as it were1 of higher instance1 namely1 the ,judgment of ,god3 and this really meant that physical strength and activity1 that is1 our animal nature1 usurped the place of reason on the judgment seat1 deciding in matters of right and wrong1 not by what a man had done1 but by the force with which he was opposed1 the same system1 in fact1 as prevails to-day under the principles of knightly honor4 ,if any one doubts that such is really the origin of our modern duel1 let him read an excellent work by ,j4,b4 ,millingen1 ,the ,history of ,dueling4#b ,nay1 you may still find amongst the supporters of the system1--who1 by the way are not usually the most educated or thoughtful of men1--some who look upon the result of a duel as really constituting a divine judgment in the matter in dispute2 no doubt in consequence of the traditional feeling on the subject4 ,but leaving aside the question of origin1 it must now be clear to us that the main tendency of the principle is to use physical menace for the purpose of extorting an appearance of respect which is deemed too difficult or superfluous to acquire in reality2 a proceeding which comes to much the same thing as if you were to prove the warmth of your room by holding your hand on the thermometer and so make it rise4 ,in fact1 the kernel of the matter is this3 whereas civic honor aims at peaceable intercourse1 and consists in the opinion of other people that we deserve full confidence1 because we pay unconditional respect to their rights2 knightly honor1 on the other hand1 lays down that we are to be feared1 as being determined at all costs to maintain our own4 ,as not much reliance can be placed upon human integrity1 the principle that it is more essential to arouse fear than to invite confidence would not1 perhaps1 be a false one1 if we were living in a state of nature1 where every man would have to protect himself and directly maintain his own rights4 ,but in civilized life1 where the ,state undertakes the protection of our person and property1 the principle is no longer applicable3 it stands1 like the castles and watch-towers of the age when might was right1 a useless and forlorn object1 amidst well-tilled fields and frequented roads1 or even railways4 ,accordingly1 the application of knightly honor1 which still recognizes this principle1 is confined to those small cases of personal assault which meet with but slight punishment at the hands of the law1 or even none at all1 for de minimis non1--mere trivial wrongs1 committed sometimes only in jest4 ,the consequence of this limited application of the principle is that it has forced itself into an exaggerated respect for the value of the person1--a respect utterly alien to the nature1 constitution or destiny of man--which it has elated into a species of sanctity3 and as it considers that the ,state has imposed a very insufficient penalty on the commission of such trivial injuries1 it takes upon itself to punish them by attacking the aggressor in life or limb4 ,the whole thing manifestly rests upon an excessive degree of arrogant pride1 which1 completely forgetting what man really is1 claims that he shall be absolutely free from all attack or even censure4 ,those who determine to carry out this principle by main force1 and announce1 as their rule of action1 whoever insults or strikes me shall die6 ought for their pains to be banished the country4#a ,footnote #a3 ,knightly honor is the child of pride and folly1 and it is needy not pride1 which is the heritage of the human race4 ,it is a very remarkable fact that this extreme form of pride should be found exclusively amongst the adherents of the religion which teaches the deepest humility4 ,still1 this pride must not be put down to religion1 but1 rather1 to the feudal system1 which made every nobleman a petty sovereign who recognized no human judge1 and learned to regard his person as sacred and inviolable1 and any attack upon it1 or any blow or insulting word1 as an offence punishable with death4 ,the principle of knightly honor and of the duel were at first confined to the nobles1 and1 later on1 also to officers in the army1 who1 enjoying a kind of off-and-on relationship with the upper classes1 though they were never incorporated with them1 were anxious not to be behind them4 ,it is true that duels were the product of the old ordeals2 but the latter are not the foundation1 but rather the consequence and application of the principle of honor3 the man who recognized no human judge appealed to the divine4 ,ordeals1 however1 are not peculiar to ,christendom3 they may be found in great force among the ,hindoos1 especially of ancient times2 and there are traces of them even now4 ,as a palliative to this rash arrogance1 people are in the habit of giving way on everything4 ,if two intrepid persons meet1 and neither will give way1 the slightest difference may cause a shower of abuse1 then fisticuffs1 and1 finally1 a fatal blow3 so that it would really be a more decorous proceeding to omit the intermediate steps and appeal to arms at once4 ,an appeal to arms has its own special formalities2 and these have developed into a rigid and precise system of laws and regulations1 together forming the most solemn farce there is--a regular temple of honor dedicated to folly6 ,for if two intrepid persons dispute over some trivial matter1 7more important affairs are dealt with by law71 one of them1 the cleverer of the two1 will of course yield2 and they will agree to differ4 ,that this is so is proved by the fact that common people1--or1 rather1 the numerous classes of the community who do not acknowledge the principle of knightly honor1 let any dispute run its natural course4 ,amongst these classes homicide is a hundredfold rarer than amongst those--and they amount1 perhaps1 in all1 to hardly one in a thousand1--who pay homage to the principle3 and even blows are of no very frequent occurrence4 ,then it has been said that the manners and tone of good society are ultimately based upon this principle of honor1 which1 with its system of duels1 is made out to be a bulwark against the assaults of savagery and rudeness4 ,but ,athens1 ,corinth and ,rome could assuredly boast of good1 nay1 excellent society1 and manners and tone of a high order1 without any support from the bogey of knightly honor4 ,it is true that women did not occupy that prominent place in ancient society which they hold now1 when conversation has taken on a frivolous and trifling character1 to the exclusion of that weighty discourse which distinguished the ancients4 ,this change has certainly contributed a great deal to bring about the tendency1 which is observable in good society now-a-days1 to prefer personal courage to the possession of any other quality4 ,the fact is that personal courage is really a very subordinate virtue1--merely the distinguishing mark of a subaltern1--a virtue1 indeed1 in which we are surpassed by the lower animals2 or else you would not hear people say1 as brave as a lion4 ,far from being the pillar of society1 knightly honor affords a sure asylum1 in general for dishonesty and wickedness1 and also for small incivilities1 want of consideration and unmannerliness4 ,rude behavior is often passed over in silence because no one cares to risk his neck in correcting it4 ,after what ,i have said1 it will not appear strange that the dueling system is carried to the highest pitch of sanguinary zeal precisely in that nation whose political and financial records show that they are not too honorable4 ,what that nation is like in its private and domestic life1 is a question which may be best put to those who are experienced in the matter4 ,their urbanity and social culture have long been conspicuous by their absence4 ,there is no truth1 then1 in such pretexts4 ,it can be urged with more justice that as1 when you snarl at a dog1 he snarls in return1 and when you pet him1 he fawns2 so it lies in the nature of men to return hostility by hostility1 and to be embittered and irritated at any signs of depreciatory treatment or hatred3 and1 as ,cicero says1 there is something so penetrating in the shaft of envy that even men of wisdom and worth find its wound a painful one2 and nowhere in the world1 except1 perhaps1 in a few religious sects1 is an insult or a blow taken with equanimity4 ,and yet a natural view of either would in no case demand anything more than a requital proportionate to the offence1 and would never go to the length of assigning death as the proper penalty for anyone who accuses another of lying or stupidity or cowardice4 ,the old ,german theory of blood for a blow is a revolting superstition of the age of chivalry4 ,and in any case the return or requital of an insult is dictated by anger1 and not by any such obligation of honor and duty as the advocates of chivalry seek to attach to it4 ,the fact is that1 the greater the truth1 the greater the slander2 and it is clear that the slightest hint of some real delinquency will give much greater offence than a most terrible accusation which is perfectly baseless3 so that a man who is quite sure that he has done nothing to deserve a reproach may treat it with contempt1 and will be safe in doing so4 ,the theory of honor demands that he shall show a susceptibility which he does not possess1 and take bloody vengeance for insults which he cannot feel4 ,a man must himself have but a poor opinion of his own worth who hastens to prevent the utterance of an unfavorable opinion by giving his enemy a black eye4 ,true appreciation of his own value will make a man really indifferent to insult2 but if he cannot help resenting it1 a little shrewdness and culture will enable him to save appearances and dissemble his anger4 ,if he could only get rid of this superstition about honor--the idea1 ,i mean1 that it disappears when you are insulted1 and can be restored by returning the insult2 if we could only stop people from thinking that wrong1 brutality and insolence can be legalized by expressing readiness to give satisfaction1 that is1 to fight in defence of it1 we should all soon come to the general opinion that insult and depreciation are like a battle in which the loser wins2 and that1 as ,vincenzo ,monti says1 abuse resembles a church-procession1 because it always returns to the point from which it set out4 ,if we could only get people to look upon insult in this light1 we should no longer have to say something rude in order to prove that we are in the right4 ,now1 unfortunately1 if we want to take a serious view of any question1 we have first of all to consider whether it will not give offence in some way or other to the dullard1 who generally shows alarm and resentment at the merest sign of intelligence2 and it may easily happen that the head which contains the intelligent view has to be pitted against the noodle which is empty of everything but narrowness and stupidity4 ,if all this were done away with1 intellectual superiority could take the leading place in society which is its due--a place now occupied1 though people do not like to confess it1 by excellence of physique1 mere fighting pluck1 in fact2 and the natural effect of such a change would be that the best kind of people would have one reason the less for withdrawing from society4 ,this would pave the way for the introduction of real courtesy and genuinely good society1 such as undoubtedly existed in ,athens1 ,corinth and ,rome4 ,if anyone wants to see a good example of what ,i mean1 ,i should like him to read ,xenophon's ,banquet4 ,the last argument in defence of knightly honor no doubt is1 that1 but for its existence1 the world--awful thought6--would be a regular bear-garden4 ,to which ,i may briefly reply that nine hundred and ninety-nine people out of a thousand who do not recognize the code1 have often given and received a blow without any fatal consequences3 whereas amongst the adherents of the code a blow usually means death to one of the parties4 ,but let me examine this argument more closely4 ,i have often tried to find some tenable1 or at any rate1 plausible basis--other than a merely conventional one--some positive reasons1 that is to say1 for the rooted conviction which a portion of mankind entertains1 that a blow is a very dreadful thing2 but ,i have looked for it in vain1 either in the animal or in the rational side of human nature4 ,a blow is1 and always will be1 a trivial physical injury which one man can do to another2 proving1 thereby1 nothing more than his superiority in strength or skill1 or that his enemy was off his guard4 ,analysis will carry us no further4 ,the same knight who regards a blow from the human hand as the greatest of evils1 if he gets a ten times harder blow from his horse1 will give you the assurance1 as he limps away in suppressed pain1 that it is a matter of no consequence whatever4 ,so ,i have come to think that it is the human hand which is at the bottom of the mischief4 ,and yet in a battle the knight may get cuts and thrusts from the same hand1 and still assure you that his wounds are not worth mentioning4 ,now1 ,i hear that a blow from the flat of a sword is not by any means so bad as a blow from a stick2 and that1 a short time ago1 cadets were liable to be punished by the one but not the other1 and that the very greatest honor of all is the accolade4 ,this is all the psychological or moral basis that ,i can find2 and so there is nothing left me but to pronounce the whole thing an antiquated superstition that has taken deep root1 and one more of the many examples which show the force of tradition4 ,my view is confirmed by the well-known fact that in ,china a beating with a bamboo is a very frequent punishment for the common people1 and even for officials of every class2 which shows that human nature1 even in a highly civilized state1 does not run in the same groove here and in ,china4 ,on the contrary1 an unprejudiced view of human nature shows that it is just as natural for a man to beat as it is for savage animals to bite and rend in pieces1 or for horned beasts to butt or push4 ,man may be said to be the animal that beats4 ,hence it is revolting to our sense of the fitness of things to hear1 as we sometimes do1 that one man bitten another2 on the other hand1 it is a natural and everyday occurrence for him to get blows or give them4 ,it is intelligible enough that1 as we become educated1 we are glad to dispense with blows by a system of mutual restraint4 ,but it is a cruel thing to compel a nation or a single class to regard a blow as an awful misfortune which must have death and murder for its consequences4 ,there are too many genuine evils in the world to allow of our increasing them by imaginary misfortunes1 which brings real ones in their train3 and yet this is the precise effect of the superstition1 which thus proves itself at once stupid and malign4 ,it does not seem to me wise of governments and legislative bodies to promote any such folly by attempting to do away with flogging as a punishment in civil or military life4 ,their idea is that they are acting in the interests of humanity2 but1 in point of fact1 they are doing just the opposite2 for the abolition of flogging will serve only to strengthen this inhuman and abominable superstition1 to which so many sacrifices have already been made4 ,for all offences1 except the worst1 a beating is the obvious1 and therefore the natural penalty2 and a man who will not listen to reason will yield to blows4 ,it seems to me right and proper to administer corporal punishment to the man who possesses nothing and therefore cannot be fined1 or cannot be put in prison because his master's interests would suffer by the loss of his service4 ,there are really no arguments against it3 only mere talk about the dignity of man--talk which proceeds1 not from any clear notions on the subject1 but from the pernicious superstition ,i have been describing4 ,that it is a superstition which lies at the bottom of the whole business is proved by an almost laughable example4 ,not long ago1 in the military discipline of many countries1 the cat was replaced by the stick4 ,in either case the object was to produce physical pain2 but the latter method involved no disgrace1 and was not derogatory to honor4 ,by promoting this superstition1 the ,state is playing into the hands of the principle of knightly honor1 and therefore of the duel2 while at the same time it is trying1 or at any rate it pretends it is trying1 to abolish the duel by legislative enactment4 ,as a natural consequence we find that this fragment of the theory that might is right1 which has come down to us from the most savage days of the ,middle ,age1 has still in this nineteenth century a good deal of life left in it--more shame to us6 ,it is high time for the principle to be driven out bag and baggage4 ,now-a-days no one is allowed to set dogs or cocks to fight each other1--at any rate1 in ,england it is a penal offence1--but men are plunged into deadly strife1 against their will1 by the operation of this ridiculous1 superstitious and absurd principle1 which imposes upon us the obligation1 as its narrow-minded supporters and advocates declare1 of fighting with one another like gladiators1 for any little trifle4 ,let me recommend our purists to adopt the expression baiting#a instead of duel1 which probably comes to us1 not from the ,latin duellum1 but from the ,spanish duelo1--meaning suffering1 nuisance1 annoyance4 ,footnote #a3 ,ritterhetze ,in any case1 we may well laugh at the pedantic excess to which this foolish system has been carried4 ,it is really revolting that this principle1 with its absurd code1 can form a power within the ,state--imperium in imperio--a power too easily put in motion1 which1 recognizing no right but might1 tyrannizes over the classes which come within its range1 by keeping up a sort of inquisition1 before which any one may be haled on the most flimsy pretext1 and there and then be tried on an issue of life and death between himself and his opponent4 ,this is the lurking place from which every rascal1 if he only belongs to the classes in question1 may menace and even exterminate the noblest and best of men1 who1 as such1 must of course be an object of hatred to him4 ,our system of justice and police-protection has made it impossible in these days for any scoundrel in the street to attack us with--,your money or your life6 ,an end should be put to the burden which weighs upon the higher classes--the burden1 ,i mean1 of having to be ready every moment to expose life and limb to the mercy of anyone who takes it into his rascally head to be coarse1 rude1 foolish or malicious4 ,it is perfectly atrocious that a pair of silly1 passionate boys should be wounded1 maimed or even killed1 simply because they have had a few words4 ,the strength of this tyrannical power within the ,state1 and the force of the superstition1 may be measured by the fact that people who are prevented from restoring their knightly honor by the superior or inferior rank of their aggressor1 or anything else that puts the persons on a different level1 often come to a tragic-comic end by committing suicide in sheer despair4 ,you may generally know a thing to be false and ridiculous by finding that1 if it is carried to its logical conclusion1 it results in a contradiction2 and here1 too1 we have a very glaring absurdity4 ,for an officer is forbidden to take part in a duel2 but if he is challenged and declines to come out1 he is punished by being dismissed the service4 ,as ,i am on the matter1 let me be more frank still4 ,the important distinction1 which is often insisted upon1 between killing your enemy in a fair fight with equal weapons1 and lying in ambush for him1 is entirely a corollary of the fact that the power within the ,state1 of which ,i have spoken1 recognizes no other right than might1 that is1 the right of the stronger1 and appeals to a ,judgment of ,god as the basis of the whole code4 ,for to kill a man in a fair fight1 is to prove that you are superior to him in strength or skill2 and to justify the deed1 you must assume that the right of the stronger is really a right4 ,but the truth is that1 if my opponent is unable to defend himself1 it gives me the possibility1 but not by any means the right1 of killing him4 ,the right1 the moral justification1 must depend entirely upon the motives which ,i have for taking his life4 ,even supposing that ,i have sufficient motive for taking a man's life1 there is no reason why ,i should make his death depend upon whether ,i can shoot or fence better than he4 ,in such a case1 it is immaterial in what way ,i kill him1 whether ,i attack him from the front or the rear4 ,from a moral point of view1 the right of the stronger is no more convincing than the right of the more skillful2 and it is skill which is employed if you murder a a man treacherously4 ,might and skill are in this case equally right2 in a duel1 for instance1 both the one and the other come into play2 for a feint is only another name for treachery4 ,if ,i consider myself morally justified in taking a man's life1 it is stupid of me to try first of all whether he can shoot or fence better than ,i2 as1 if he can1 he will not only have wronged me1 but have taken my life into the bargain4 ,it is ,rousseau's opinion that the proper way to avenge an insult is1 not to fight a duel with your aggressor1 but to assassinate him1--an opinion1 however1 which he is cautious enough only to barely indicate in a mysterious note to one of the books of his ,emile4 ,this shows the philosopher so completely under the influence of the mediaeval superstition of knightly honor that he considers it justifiable to murder a man who accuses you of lying3 whilst he must have known that every man1 and himself especially1 has deserved to have the lie given him times without number4 ,the prejudice which justifies the killing of your adversary1 so long as it is done in an open contest and with equal weapons1 obviously looks upon might as really right1 and a duel as the interference of ,god4 ,the ,italian who1 in a fit of rage1 falls upon his aggressor wherever he finds him1 and despatches him without any ceremony1 acts1 at any rate1 consistently and naturally3 he may be cleverer1 but he is not worse1 than the duelist4 ,if you say1 ,i am justified in killing my adversary in a duel1 because he is at the moment doing his best to kill me2 ,i can reply that it is your challenge which has placed him under the necessity of defending himself2 and that by mutually putting it on the ground of self-defence1 the combatants are seeking a plausible pretext for committing murder4 ,i should rather justify the deed by the legal maxim ,volenti non fit injuria2 because the parties mutually agree to set their life upon the issue4 ,this argument may1 however1 be rebutted by showing that the injured party is not injured volens2 because it is this tyrannical principle of knightly honor1 with its absurd code1 which forcibly drags one at least of the combatants before a bloody inquisition4 ,i have been rather prolix on the subject of knightly honor1 but ,i had good reason for being so1 because the ,augean stable of moral and intellectual enormity in this world can be cleaned out only with the besom of philosophy4 ,there are two things which more than all else serve to make the social arrangements of modern life compare unfavorably with those of antiquity1 by giving our age a gloomy1 dark and sinister aspect1 from which antiquity1 fresh1 natural and1 as it were1 in the morning of life1 is completely free2 ,i mean modern honor and modern disease1--par nobile fratrum6--which have combined to poison all the relations of life1 whether public or private4 ,the second of this noble pair extends its influence much farther than at first appears to be the case1 as being not merely a physical1 but also a moral disease4 ,from the time that poisoned arrows have been found in ,cupid's quiver1 an estranging1 hostile1 nay1 devilish element has entered into the relations of men and women1 like a sinister thread of fear and mistrust in the warp and woof of their intercourse2 indirectly shaking the foundations of human fellowship1 and so more or less affecting the whole tenor of existence4 ,but it would be beside my present purpose to pursue the subject further4 ,an influence analogous to this1 though working on other lines1 is exerted by the principle of knightly honor1--that solemn farce1 unknown to the ancient world1 which makes modern society stiff1 gloomy and timid1 forcing us to keep the strictest watch on every word that falls4 ,nor is this all4 ,the principle is a universal ,minotaur2 and the goodly company of the sons of noble houses which it demands in yearly tribute1 comes1 not from one country alone1 as of old1 but from every land in ,europe4 ,it is high time to make a regular attack upon this foolish system2 and this is what ,i am trying to do now4 ,would that these two monsters of the modern world might disappear before the end of the century6 ,let us hope that medicine may be able to find some means of preventing the one1 and that1 by clearing our ideals1 philosophy may put an end to the other3 for it is only by clearing our ideas that the evil can be eradicated4 ,governments have tried to do so by legislation1 and failed4 ,still1 if they are really concerned to stop the dueling system2 and if the small success that has attended their efforts is really due only to their inability to cope with the evil1 ,i do not mind proposing a law the success of which ,i am prepared to guarantee4 ,it will involve no sanguinary measures1 and can be put into operation without recourse either to the scaffold or the gallows1 or to imprisonment for life4 ,it is a small homeopathic pilule1 with no serious after effects4 ,if any man send or accept a challenge1 let the corporal take him before the guard house1 and there give him1 in broad daylight1 twelve strokes with a stick a la ,chinoise2 a non-commissioned officer or a private to receive six4 ,if a duel has actually taken place1 the usual criminal proceedings should be instituted4 ,a person with knightly notions might1 perhaps1 object that1 if such a punishment were carried out1 a man of honor would possibly shoot himself2 to which ,i should answer that it is better for a fool like that to shoot himself rather than other people4 ,however1 ,i know very well that governments are not really in earnest about putting down dueling4 ,civil officials1 and much more so1 officers in the army1 7except those in the highest positions71 are paid most inadequately for the services they perform2 and the deficiency is made up by honor1 which is represented by titles and orders1 and1 in general1 by the system of rank and distinction4 ,the duel is1 so to speak1 a very serviceable extra-horse for people of rank3 so they are trained in the knowledge of it at the universities4 ,the accidents which happen to those who use it make up in blood for the deficiency of the pay4 ,just to complete the discussion1 let me here mention the subject of national honor4 ,it is the honor of a nation as a unit in the aggregate of nations4 ,and as there is no court to appeal to but the court of force2 and as every nation must be prepared to defend its own interests1 the honor of a nation consists in establishing the opinion1 not only that it may be trusted 7its credit71 but also that it is to be feared4 ,an attack upon its rights must never be allowed to pass unheeded4 ,it is a combination of civic and knightly honor4 ,section #e4--;,fame4 ,under the heading of place in the estimation of the world we have put ,fame2 and this we must now proceed to consider4 ,fame and honor are twins2 and twins1 too1 like ,castor and ,pollux1 of whom the one was mortal and the other was not4 ,fame is the undying brother of ephemeral honor4 ,i speak1 of course1 of the highest kind of fame1 that is1 of fame in the true and genuine sense of the word2 for1 to be sure1 there are many sorts of fame1 some of which last but a day4 ,honor is concerned merely with such qualities as everyone may be expected to show under similar circumstances2 fame only of those which cannot be required of any man4 ,honor is of qualities which everyone has a right to attribute to himself2 fame only of those which should be left to others to attribute4 ,whilst our honor extends as far as people have knowledge of us2 fame runs in advance1 and makes us known wherever it finds its way4 ,everyone can make a claim to honor2 very few to fame1 as being attainable only in virtue of extraordinary achievements4 ,these achievements may be of two kinds1 either actions or works2 and so to fame there are two paths open4 ,on the path of actions1 a great heart is the chief recommendation2 on that of works1 a great head4 ,each of the two paths has its own peculiar advantages and detriments2 and the chief difference between them is that actions are fleeting1 while works remain4 ,the influence of an action1 be it never so noble1 can last but a short time2 but a work of genius is a living influence1 beneficial and ennobling throughout the ages4 ,all that can remain of actions is a memory1 and that becomes weak and disfigured by time--a matter of indifference to us1 until at last it is extinguished altogether2 unless1 indeed1 history takes it up1 and presents it1 fossilized1 to posterity4 ,works are immortal in themselves1 and once committed to writing1 may live for ever4 ,of ,alexander the ,great we have but the name and the record2 but ,plato and ,aristotle1 ,homer and ,horace are alive1 and as directly at work to-day as they were in their own lifetime4 ,the ,vedas1 and their ,upanishads1 are still with us3 but of all contemporaneous actions not a trace has come down to us4#a ,footnote #a3 ,accordingly it is a poor compliment1 though sometimes a fashionable one1 to try to pay honor to a work by calling it an action4 ,for a work is something essentially higher in its nature4 ,an action is always something based on motive1 and1 therefore1 fragmentary and fleeting--a part1 in fact1 of that ,will which is the universal and original element in the constitution of the world4 ,but a great and beautiful work has a permanent character1 as being of universal significance1 and sprung from the ,intellect1 which rises1 like a perfume1 above the faults and follies of the world of ,will4 ,the fame of a great action has this advantage1 that it generally starts with a loud explosion2 so loud1 indeed1 as to be heard all over ,europe3 whereas the fame of a great work is slow and gradual in its beginnings2 the noise it makes is at first slight1 but it goes on growing greater1 until at last1 after a hundred years perhaps1 it attains its full force2 but then it remains1 because the works remain1 for thousands of years4 ,but in the other case1 when the first explosion is over1 the noise it makes grows less and less1 and is heard by fewer and fewer persons2 until it ends by the action having only a shadowy existence in the pages of history4 ,another disadvantage under which actions labor is that they depend upon chance for the possibility of coming into existence2 and hence1 the fame they win does not flow entirely from their intrinsic value1 but also from the circumstances which happened to lend them importance and lustre4 ,again1 the fame of actions1 if1 as in war1 they are purely personal1 depends upon the testimony of fewer witnesses2 and these are not always present1 and even if present1 are not always just or unbiased observers4 ,this disadvantage1 however1 is counterbalanced by the fact that actions have the advantage of being of a practical character1 and1 therefore1 within the range of general human intelligence2 so that once the facts have been correctly reported1 justice is immediately done2 unless1 indeed1 the motive underlying the action is not at first properly understood or appreciated4 ,no action can be really understood apart from the motive which prompted it4 ,it is just the contrary with works4 ,their inception does not depend upon chance1 but wholly and entirely upon their author2 and whoever they are in and for themselves1 that they remain as long as they live4 ,further1 there is a difficulty in properly judging them1 which becomes all the harder1 the higher their character2 often there are no persons competent to understand the work1 and often no unbiased or honest critics4 ,their fame1 however1 does not depend upon one judge only2 they can enter an appeal to another4 ,in the case of actions1 as ,i have said1 it is only their memory which comes down to posterity1 and then only in the traditional form2 but works are handed down themselves1 and1 except when parts of them have been lost1 in the form in which they first appeared4 ,in this case there is no room for any disfigurement of the facts2 and any circumstance which may have prejudiced them in their origin1 fall away with the lapse of time4 ,nay1 it is often only after the lapse of time that the persons really competent to judge them appear--exceptional critics sitting in judgment on exceptional works1 and giving their weighty verdicts in succession4 ,these collectively form a perfectly just appreciation2 and though there are cases where it has taken some hundreds of years to form it1 no further lapse of time is able to reverse the verdict2--so secure and inevitable is the fame of a great work4 ,whether authors ever live to see the dawn of their fame depends upon the chance of circumstance2 and the higher and more important their works are1 the less likelihood there is of their doing so4 ,that was an incomparable fine saying of ,seneca's1 that fame follows merit as surely as the body casts a shadow2 sometimes falling in front1 and sometimes behind4 ,and he goes on to remark that though the envy of contemporaries be shown by universal silence1 there will come those who will judge without enmity or favor4 ,from this remark it is manifest that even in ,seneca's age there were rascals who understood the art of suppressing merit by maliciously ignoring its existence1 and of concealing good work from the public in order to favor the bad3 it is an art well understood in our day1 too1 manifesting itself1 both then and now1 in an envious conspiracy of silence4 ,as a general rule1 the longer a man's fame is likely to last1 the later it will be in coming2 for all excellent products require time for their development4 ,the fame which lasts to posterity is like an oak1 of very slow growth2 and that which endures but a little while1 like plants which spring up in a year and then die2 whilst false fame is like a fungus1 shooting up in a night and perishing as soon4 ,and why8 ,for this reason2 the more a man belongs to posterity1 in other words1 to humanity in general1 the more of an alien he is to his contemporaries2 since his work is not meant for them as such1 but only for them in so far as they form part of mankind at large2 there is none of that familiar local color about his productions which would appeal to them2 and so what he does1 fails of recognition because it is strange4 ,people are more likely to appreciate the man who serves the circumstances of his own brief hour1 or the temper of the moment1--belonging to it1 living and dying with it4 ,the general history of art and literature shows that the highest achievements of the human mind are1 as a rule1 not favorably received at first2 but remain in obscurity until they win notice from intelligence of a high order1 by whose influence they are brought into a position which they then maintain1 in virtue of the authority thus given them4 ,if the reason of this should be asked1 it will be found that ultimately1 a man can really understand and appreciate those things only which are of like nature with himself4 ,the dull person will like what is dull1 and the common person what is common2 a man whose ideas are mixed will be attracted by confusion of thought2 and folly will appeal to him who has no brains at all2 but best of all1 a man will like his own works1 as being of a character thoroughly at one with himself4 ,this is a truth as old as ,epicharmus of fabulous memory-- ,greek3 ,thaumaston ouden esti me tauth outo legein ,kal andanein autoisin autous kal dokein ,kalos pethukenai kal gar ho kuon kuni ,kalloton eimen phainetai koi bous boi ,onos dono kalliston estin1 us dut4 ,the sense of this passage--for it should not be lost--is that we should not be surprised if people are pleased with themselves1 and fancy that they are in good case2 for to a dog the best thing in the world is a dog2 to an ox1 an ox2 to an ass1 an ass2 and to a sow1 a sow4 ,the strongest arm is unavailing to give impetus to a featherweight2 for1 instead of speeding on its way and hitting its mark with effect1 it will soon fall to the ground1 having expended what little energy was given to it1 and possessing no mass of its own to be the vehicle of momentum4 ,so it is with great and noble thoughts1 nay1 with the very masterpieces of genius1 when there are none but little1 weak1 and perverse minds to appreciate them1--a fact which has been deplored by a chorus of the wise in all ages4 ,jesus1 the son of ,sirach1 for instance1 declares that ,he that telleth a tale to a fool speaketh to one in slumber3 when he hath told his tale1 he will say1 ,what is the matter8#a ,and ,hamlet says1 ,a knavish speech sleeps in a fool's ear4#b ,and ,goethe is of the same opinion1 that a dull ear mocks at the wisest word1 ,das glcktichste ,wort es wird verhhnt1 ,wenn der ,hrer ein ,schiefohr ist3 and again1 that we should not be discouraged if people are stupid1 for you can make no rings if you throw your stone into a marsh4 ,du iwirkest nicht1 ,alles bleibt so stumpf3 ,sei guter ,dinge6 ,der ,stein in ,sumpf ,macht keine ,ringe4 ,footnote #a3 ,ecclesiasticus1 xxii41 #h4 ,footnote #b3 ,act iv41 ,sc4 #b4 ,lichtenberg asks3 ,when a head and a book come into collision1 and one sounds hollow1 is it always the book8 ,and in another place3 ,works like this are as a mirror2 if an ass looks in1 you cannot expect an apostle to look out4 ,we should do well to remember old ,gellert's fine and touching lament1 that the best gifts of all find the fewest admirers1 and that most men mistake the bad for the good1--a daily evil that nothing can prevent1 like a plague which no remedy can cure4 ,there is but one thing to be done1 though how difficult6--the foolish must become wise1--and that they can never be4 ,the value of life they never know2 they see with the outer eye but never with the mind1 and praise the trivial because the good is strange to them3-- ,nie kennen sie den ,werth der ,dinge1 ,ihr ,auge schliesst1 nicht ihr ,verstand2 ,sie loben ewig das ,geringe ,weil sie das ,gute nie gekannt4 ,to the intellectual incapacity which1 as ,goethe says1 fails to recognize and appreciate the good which exists1 must be added something which comes into play everywhere1 the moral baseness of mankind1 here taking the form of envy4 ,the new fame that a man wins raises him afresh over the heads of his fellows1 who are thus degraded in proportion4 ,all conspicuous merit is obtained at the cost of those who possess none2 or1 as ,goethe has it in the ,weststlicher ,divan1 another's praise is one's own depreciation-- ,wenn wir ,andern ,ehre geben ,mssen wir uns selbst entadeln4 ,we see1 then1 how it is that1 whatever be the form which excellence takes1 mediocrity1 the common lot of by far the greatest number1 is leagued against it in a conspiracy to resist1 and if possible1 to suppress it4 ,the pass-word of this league is bas le mrite4 ,nay more2 those who have done something themselves1 and enjoy a certain amount of fame1 do not care about the appearance of a new reputation1 because its success is apt to throw theirs into the shade4 ,hence1 ,goethe declares that if we had to depend for our life upon the favor of others1 we should never have lived at all2 from their desire to appear important themselves1 people gladly ignore our very existence3-- ,htte ich gezaudert zu werden1 ,bis man mir's ,leben gegnut1 ,ich wre noch nicht auf ,erden1 ,wie ihr begreifen knnt1 ,wenn ihr seht1 wie sie sich geberden1 ,die1 um etwas zu scheinen1 ,mich gerne mochten verneinen4 ,honor1 on the contrary1 generally meets with fair appreciation1 and is not exposed to the onslaught of envy2 nay1 every man is credited with the possession of it until the contrary is proved4 ,but fame has to be won in despite of envy1 and the tribunal which awards the laurel is composed of judges biased against the applicant from the very first4 ,honor is something which we are able and ready to share with everyone2 fame suffers encroachment and is rendered more unattainable in proportion as more people come by it4 ,further1 the difficulty of winning fame by any given work stands in reverse ratio to the number of people who are likely to read it2 and hence it is so much harder to become famous as the author of a learned work than as a writer who aspires only to amuse4 ,it is hardest of all in the case of philosophical works1 because the result at which they aim is rather vague1 and1 at the same time1 useless from a material point of view2 they appeal chiefly to readers who are working on the same lines themselves4 ,it is clear1 then1 from what ,i have said as to the difficulty of winning fame1 that those who labor1 not out of love for their subject1 nor from pleasure in pursuing it1 but under the stimulus of ambition1 rarely or never leave mankind a legacy of immortal works4 ,the man who seeks to do what is good and genuine1 must avoid what is bad1 and be ready to defy the opinions of the mob1 nay1 even to despise it and its misleaders4 ,hence the truth of the remark1 7especially insisted upon by ,osorius de ,gloria71 that fame shuns those who seek it1 and seeks those who shun it2 for the one adapt themselves to the taste of their contemporaries1 and the others work in defiance of it4 ,but1 difficult though it be to acquire fame1 it is an easy thing to keep when once acquired4 ,here1 again1 fame is in direct opposition to honor1 with which everyone is presumably to be accredited4 ,honor has not to be won2 it must only not be lost4 ,but there lies the difficulty6 ,for by a single unworthy action1 it is gone irretrievably4 ,but fame1 in the proper sense of the word1 can never disappear2 for the action or work by which it was acquired can never be undone2 and fame attaches to its author1 even though he does nothing to deserve it anew4 ,the fame which vanishes1 or is outlived1 proves itself thereby to be spurious1 in other words1 unmerited1 and due to a momentary overestimate of a man's work2 not to speak of the kind of fame which ,hegel enjoyed1 and which ,lichtenberg describes as trumpeted forth by a clique of admiring undergraduates--the resounding echo of empty heads2--such a fame as will make posterity smile when it lights upon a grotesque architecture of words1 a fine nest with the birds long ago flown2 it will knock at the door of this decayed structure of conventionalities and find it utterly empty6--not even a trace of thought there to invite the passer-by4 ,the truth is that fame means nothing but what a man is in comparison with others4 ,it is essentially relative in character1 and therefore only indirectly valuable2 for it vanishes the moment other people become what the famous man is4 ,absolute value can be predicated only of what a man possesses under any and all circumstances1--here1 what a man is directly and in himself4 ,it is the possession of a great heart or a great head1 and not the mere fame of it1 which is worth having1 and conducive to happiness4 ,not fame1 but that which deserves to be famous1 is what a man should hold in esteem4 ,this is1 as it were1 the true underlying substance1 and fame is only an accident1 affecting its subject chiefly as a kind of external symptom1 which serves to confirm his own opinion of himself4 ,light is not visible unless it meets with something to reflect it2 and talent is sure of itself only when its fame is noised abroad4 ,but fame is not a certain symptom of merit2 because you can have the one without the other2 or1 as ,lessing nicely puts it1 ,some people obtain fame1 and others deserve it4 ,it would be a miserable existence which should make its value or want of value depend upon what other people think2 but such would be the life of a hero or a genius if its worth consisted in fame1 that is1 in the applause of the world4 ,every man lives and exists on his own account1 and1 therefore1 mainly in and for himself2 and what he is and the whole manner of his being concern himself more than anyone else2 so if he is not worth much in this respect1 he cannot be worth much otherwise4 ,the idea which other people form of his existence is something secondary1 derivative1 exposed to all the chances of fate1 and in the end affecting him but very indirectly4 ,besides1 other people's heads are a wretched place to be the home of a man's true happiness--a fanciful happiness perhaps1 but not a real one4 ,and what a mixed company inhabits the ,temple of ,universal ,fame6--generals1 ministers1 charlatans1 jugglers1 dancers1 singers1 millionaires and ,jews6 ,it is a temple in which more sincere recognition1 more genuine esteem1 is given to the several excellencies of such folk1 than to superiority of mind1 even of a high order1 which obtains from the great majority only a verbal acknowledgment4 ,from the point of view of human happiness1 fame is1 surely1 nothing but a very rare and delicate morsel for the appetite that feeds on pride and vanity--an appetite which1 however carefully concealed1 exists to an immoderate degree in every man1 and is1 perhaps strongest of all in those who set their hearts on becoming famous at any cost4 ,such people generally have to wait some time in uncertainty as to their own value1 before the opportunity comes which will put it to the proof and let other people see what they are made of2 but until then1 they feel as if they were suffering secret injustice4#a ,footnote #a3 ,our greatest pleasure consists in being admired2 but those who admire us1 even if they have every reason to do so1 are slow to express their sentiments4 ,hence he is the happiest man who1 no matter how1 manages sincerely to admire himself--so long as other people leave him alone4 ,but1 as ,i explained at the beginning of this chapter1 an unreasonable value is set upon other people's opinion1 and one quite disproportionate to its real worth4 ,hobbes has some strong remarks on this subject2 and no doubt he is quite right4 ,mental pleasure1 he writes1 and ecstacy of any kind1 arise when1 on comparing ourselves with others1 we come to the conclusion that we may think well of ourselves4 ,so we can easily understand the great value which is always attached to fame1 as worth any sacrifices if there is the slightest hope of attaining it4 ,fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise 7,that hath infirmity of noble mind7 ,to scorn delights and live laborious days#a ,and again3 ,how hard it is to climb ,the heights where ,fame's proud temple shines afar6 ,footnote #a3 ,milton4 ,lycidas4 ,we can thus understand how it is that the vainest people in the world are always talking about la gloire1 with the most implicit faith in it as a stimulus to great actions and great works4 ,but there can he no doubt that fame is something secondary in its character1 a mere echo or reflection--as it were1 a shadow or symptom--of merit3 and1 in any case1 what excites admiration must be of more value than the admiration itself4 ,the truth is that a man is made happy1 not by fame1 but by that which brings him fame1 by his merits1 or to speak more correctly1 by the disposition and capacity from which his merits proceed1 whether they be moral or intellectual4 ,the best side of a man's nature must of necessity be more important for him than for anyone else3 the reflection of it1 the opinion which exists in the heads of others1 is a matter that can affect him only in a very subordinate degree4 ,he who deserves fame without getting it possesses by far the more important element of happiness1 which should console him for the loss of the other4 ,it is not that a man is thought to be great by masses of incompetent and often infatuated people1 but that he really is great1 which should move us to envy his position2 and his happiness lies1 not in the fact that posterity will hear of him1 but that he is the creator of thoughts worthy to be treasured up and studied for hundreds of years4 ,besides1 if a man has done this1 he possesses something which cannot be wrested from him2 and1 unlike fame1 it is a possession dependent entirely upon himself4 ,if admiration were his chief aim1 there would be nothing in him to admire4 ,this is just what happens in the case of false1 that is1 unmerited1 fame2 for its recipient lives upon it without actually possessing the solid substratum of which fame is the outward and visible sign4 ,false fame must often put its possessor out of conceit with himself2 for the time may come when1 in spite of the illusions borne of self-love1 he will feel giddy on the heights which he was never meant to climb1 or look upon himself as spurious coin2 and in the anguish of threatened discovery and well-merited degradation1 he will read the sentence of posterity on the foreheads of the wise--like a man who owes his property to a forged will4 ,the truest fame1 the fame that comes after death1 is never heard of by its recipient2 and yet he is called a happy man4 ,his happiness lay both in the possession of those great qualities which won him fame1 and in the opportunity that was granted him of developing them--the leisure he had to act as he pleased1 to dedicate himself to his favorite pursuits4 ,it is only work done from the heart that ever gains the laurel4 ,greatness of soul1 or wealth of intellect1 is what makes a man happy--intellect1 such as1 when stamped on its productions1 will receive the admiration of centuries to come1--thoughts which make him happy at the time1 and will in their turn be a source of study and delight to the noblest minds of the most remote posterity4 ,the value of posthumous fame lies in deserving it2 and this is its own reward4 ,whether works destined to fame attain it in the lifetime of their author is a chance affair1 of no very great importance4 ,for the average man has no critical power of his own1 and is absolutely incapable of appreciating the difficulty of a great work4 ,people are always swayed by authority2 and where fame is widespread1 it means that ninety-nine out of a hundred take it on faith alone4 ,if a man is famed far and wide in his own lifetime1 he will1 if he is wise1 not set too much value upon it1 because it is no more than the echo of a few voices1 which the chance of a day has touched in his favor4 ,would a musician feel flattered by the loud applause of an audience if he knew that they were nearly all deaf1 and that1 to conceal their infirmity1 they set to work to clap vigorously as soon as ever they saw one or two persons applauding8 ,and what would he say if he got to know that those one or two persons had often taken bribes to secure the loudest applause for the poorest player6 ,it is easy to see why contemporary praise so seldom develops into posthumous fame4 ,d',alembert1 in an extremely fine description of the temple of literary fame1 remarks that the sanctuary of the temple is inhabited by the great dead1 who during their life had no place there1 and by a very few living persons1 who are nearly all ejected on their death4 ,let me remark1 in passing1 that to erect a monument to a man in his lifetime is as much as declaring that posterity is not to be trusted in its judgment of him4 ,if a man does happen to see his own true fame1 it can very rarely be before he is old1 though there have been artists and musicians who have been exceptions to this rule1 but very few philosophers4 ,this is confirmed by the portraits of people celebrated by their works2 for most of them are taken only after their subjects have attained celebrity1 generally depicting them as old and grey2 more especially if philosophy has been the work of their lives4 ,from the eudaemonistic standpoint1 this is a very proper arrangement2 as fame and youth are too much for a mortal at one and the same time4 ,life is such a poor business that the strictest economy must be exercised in its good things4 ,youth has enough and to spare in itself1 and must rest content with what it has4 ,but when the delights and joys of life fall away in old age1 as the leaves from a tree in autumn1 fame buds forth opportunely1 like a plant that is green in winter4 ,fame is1 as it were1 the fruit that must grow all the summer before it can be enjoyed at ,yule4 ,there is no greater consolation in age than the feeling of having put the whole force of one's youth into works which still remain young4 ,finally1 let us examine a little more closely the kinds of fame which attach to various intellectual pursuits2 for it is with fame of this sort that my remarks are more immediately concerned4 ,i think it may be said broadly that the intellectual superiority it denotes consists in forming theories1 that is1 new combinations of certain facts4 ,these facts may be of very different kinds2 but the better they are known1 and the more they come within everyday experience1 the greater and wider will be the fame which is to be won by theorizing about them4 ,for instance1 if the facts in question are numbers or lines or special branches of science1 such as physics1 zoology1 botany1 anatomy1 or corrupt passages in ancient authors1 or undecipherable inscriptions1 written1 it may be1 in some unknown alphabet1 or obscure points in history2 the kind of fame that may be obtained by correctly manipulating such facts will not extend much beyond those who make a study of them--a small number of persons1 most of whom live retired lives and are envious of others who become famous in their special branch of knowledge4 ,but if the facts be such as are known to everyone1 for example1 the fundamental characteristics of the human mind or the human heart1 which are shared by all alike2 or the great physical agencies which are constantly in operation before our eyes1 or the general course of natural laws2 the kind of fame which is to be won by spreading the light of a new and manifestly true theory in regard to them1 is such as in time will extend almost all over the civilized world3 for if the facts be such as everyone can grasp1 the theory also will be generally intelligible4 ,but the extent of the fame will depend upon the difficulties overcome2 and the more generally known the facts are1 the harder it will be to form a theory that shall be both new and true3 because a great many heads will have been occupied with them1 and there will be little or no possibility of saying anything that has not been said before4 ,on the other hand1 facts which are not accessible to everybody1 and can be got at only after much difficulty and labor1 nearly always admit of new combinations and theories2 so that1 if sound understanding and judgment are brought to bear upon them--qualities which do not involve very high intellectual power--a man may easily be so fortunate as to light upon some new theory in regard to them which shall be also true4 ,but fame won on such paths does not extend much beyond those who possess a knowledge of the facts in question4 ,to solve problems of this sort requires1 no doubt1 a great ideal of study and labor1 if only to get at the facts2 whilst on the path where the greatest and most widespread fame is to be won1 the facts may be grasped without any labor at all4 ,but just in proportion as less labor is necessary1 more talent or genius is required2 and between such qualities and the drudgery of research no comparison is possible1 in respect either of their intrinsic value1 or of the estimation in which they are held4 ,and so people who feel that they possess solid intellectual capacity and a sound judgment1 and yet cannot claim the highest mental powers1 should not be afraid of laborious study2 for by its aid they may work themselves above the great mob of humanity who have the facts constantly before their eyes1 and reach those secluded spots which are accessible to learned toil4 ,for this is a sphere where there are infinitely fewer rivals1 and a man of only moderate capacity may soon find an opportunity of proclaiming a theory which shall be both new and true2 nay1 the merit of his discovery will partly rest upon the difficulty of coming at the facts4 ,but applause from one's fellow-students1 who are the only persons with a knowledge of the subject1 sounds very faint to the far-off multitude4 ,and if we follow up this sort of fame far enough1 we shall at last come to a point where facts very difficult to get at are in themselves sufficient to lay a foundation of fame1 without any necessity for forming a theory2--travels1 for instance1 in remote and little-known countries1 which make a man famous by what he has seen1 not by what he has thought4 ,the great advantage of this kind of fame is that to relate what one has seen1 is much easier than to impart one's thoughts1 and people are apt to understand descriptions better than ideas1 reading the one more readily than the other3 for1 as ,asmus says1 ,when one goes forth a-voyaging ,he has a tale to tell4 ,and yet for all that1 a personal acquaintance with celebrated travelers often remind us of a line from ,horace--new scenes do not always mean new ideas-- ,caelum non animum mutant qui trans mare currunt4#a ,footnote #a3 ,epist4 ,i4 ,,ii4 ,but if a man finds himself in possession of great mental faculties1 such as alone should venture on the solution of the hardest of all problems--those which concern nature as a whole and humanity in its widest range1 he will do well to extend his view equally in all directions1 without ever straying too far amid the intricacies of various by-paths1 or invading regions little known2 in other words1 without occupying himself with special branches of knowledge1 to say nothing of their petty details4 ,there is no necessity for him to seek out subjects difficult of access1 in order to escape a crowd of rivals2 the common objects of life will give him material for new theories at once serious and true2 and the service he renders will be appreciated by all those--and they form a great part of mankind--who know the facts of which he treats4 ,what a vast distinction there is between students of physics1 chemistry1 anatomy1 mineralogy1 zoology1 philology1 history1 and the men who deal with the great facts of human life1 the poet and the philosopher6