who frequently judge of its morality or immorality according to its
consequences, but the doer of the deed himself does so. For the motives
and intentions are seldom sufficiently clear and simple, and sometimes
memory itself seems clouded by the consequences of the deed, so that
one ascribes the deed to false motives or looks upon unessential
motives as essential. Success often gives an action the whole honest
glamour of a good conscience; failure casts the shadow of remorse
over the most estimable deed. Hence arises the well-known practice
of the politician, who thinks, "Only grant me success, with that I
bring all honest souls over to my side and make myself honest in my
own eyes." In the same way success must replace a better argument.
Many educated people still believe that the triumph of Christianity
over Greek philosophy is a proof of the greater truthfulness of
the former,--although in this case it is only the coarser and more
powerful that has triumphed over the more spiritual and delicate.
Which possesses the greater truth may be seen from the fact that the
awakening sciences have agreed with Epicurus' philosophy on point after
point, but on point after point have rejected Christianity.
69.
LOVE AND JUSTICE.--Why do we over-estimate love to the disadvantage
of justice, and say the most beautiful things about it, as if it were
something very much higher than the latter? Is it not visibly more
stupid than justice? Certainly, but precisely for that reason all the
_pleasanter_ for every one. It is blind, and possesses an abundant
cornucopia, out of which it distributes its gifts to all, even if they
do not deserve them, even if they express no thanks for them. It is as
impartial as the rain, which, according to the Bible and experience,
makes not only the unjust, but also occasionally the just wet through
to the skin.
70.
EXECUTION.--How is it that every execution offends us more than does a
murder? It is the coldness of the judges, the painful preparations, the
conviction that a human being is here being used as a warning to scare
others. For the guilt is not punished, even if it existed--it lies with
educators, parents, surroundings, in ourselves, not in the murderer--I
mean the determining circumstances.
71.
HOPE.--Pandora brought the box of ills and opened it. It was the gift
of the gods to men, outwardly a beautiful and seductive gift, and
called the Casket of Happiness. Out of it flew all the evils, living
winged creatures, thence they now circulate and do men injury day and
night. One single evil had not yet escaped from the box, and by the
will of Zeus Pandora closed the lid and it remained within. Now for
ever man has the casket of happiness in his house and thinks he holds a
great treasure; it is at his disposal, he stretches out his hand for it
whenever he desires; for he does not know the box which Pandora brought
was the casket of evil, and he believes the ill which remains within to
be the greatest blessing,--it is hope. Zeus did not wish man, however
much he might be tormented by the other evils, to fling away his life,
but to go on letting himself be tormented again and again. Therefore he
gives man hope,--in reality it is the worst of all evils, because it
prolongs the torments of man.
72.
THE DEGREE OF MORAL INFLAMMABILITY UNKNOWN.--According to whether we
have or have not had certain disturbing views and impressions--for
instance, an unjustly executed, killed, or martered father; a faithless
wife; a cruel hostile attack--it depends whether our passions reach
fever heat and influence our whole life or not. No one knows to
what he may be driven by circumstances, pity, or indignation; he
does not know the degree of his own inflammability. Miserable little
circumstances make us miserable; it is generally not the quantity of
experiences, but their quality, on which lower and higher man depends,
in good and evil.
73.
THE MARTYR IN SPITE OF HIMSELF.--There was a man belonging to a party
who was too nervous and cowardly ever to contradict his comrades; they
made use of him for everything, they demanded everything from him,
because he was more afraid of the bad opinion of his companions than
of death itself; his was a miserable, feeble soul. They recognised
this, and on the ground of these qualities they made a hero of him, and
finally even a martyr. Although the coward inwardly always said No,
with his lips he always said Yes, even on the scaffold, when he was
about to die for the opinions of his party; for beside him stood one of
his old companions, who so tyrannised over him by word and look that
he really suffered death in the most respectable manner, and has ever
since been celebrated as a martyr and a great character.
74.
I THE EVERY-DAY STANDARD.--One will seldom go wrong if one attributes
extreme actions to vanity, average ones to habit, and petty ones to
fear.
75.
MISUNDERSTANDING CONCERNING VIRTUE.--Whoever has known immorality
in connection with pleasure, as is the case with a man who has a
pleasure-seeking youth behind him, imagines that virtue must be
connected with absence of pleasure.--Whoever, on the contrary, has been
much plagued by his passions and vices, longs to find in virtue peace
and the soul's happiness. Hence it is possible for two virtuous persons
not to understand each other at all.
76.
THE ASCETIC.--The ascetic makes a necessity of virtue.
77.
TRANSFERRING HONOUR FROM THE PERSON TO THE THING.--Deeds of love and
sacrifice for the benefit of one's neighbour are generally honoured,
wherever they are manifested. Thereby we multiply the valuation of
things which are thus loved, or for which we sacrifice ourselves,
although perhaps they are not worth much in themselves. A brave army is
convinced of the cause for which it fights.
78.
AMBITION A SUBSTITUTE FOR THE MORAL SENSE.--The moral sense must not be
lacking in those natures which have no ambition. The ambitious manage
without it, with almost the same results. For this reason the sons of
unpretentious, unambitious families, when once they lose the moral
sense, generally degenerate very quickly into complete scamps.
79.
VANITY ENRICHES.--How poor would be the human mind without vanity!
Thus, however, it resembles a well-stocked and constantly replenished
bazaar which attracts buyers of every kind. There they can find almost
everything, obtain almost everything, provided that they bring the
right sort of coin, namely admiration.
80.
OLD AGE AND DEATH.--Apart from the commands of religion, the question
may well be asked, Why is it more worthy for an old man who feels his
powers decline, to await his slow exhaustion and extinction than with
full consciousness to set a limit to his life? Suicide in this case is
a perfectly natural, obvious action, which should justly arouse respect
as a triumph of reason, and did arouse it in those times when the heads
of Greek philosophy and the sturdiest patriots used to seek death
through suicide. The seeking, on the contrary, to prolong existence
from day to day, with anxious consultation of doctors and painful mode
of living, without the power of drawing nearer to the actual aim of
life, is far less worthy. Religion is rich in excuses to reply to the
demand for suicide, and thus it ingratiates itself with those who wish
to cling to life.
81.
ERRORS OF THE SUFFERER AND THE DOER.--When a rich man deprives a poor
man of a possession (for instance, a prince taking the sweetheart of
a plebeian), an error arises in the mind of the poor man; he thinks
that the rich man must be utterly infamous to take away from him the
little that he has. But the rich man does not estimate so highly the
value of a _single_ possession, because he is accustomed to have many;
hence he cannot imagine himself in the poor man's place, and does not
commit nearly so great a wrong as the latter supposes. They each have a
mistaken idea of the other. The injustice of the powerful, which, more
than anything else, rouses indignation in history, is by no means so
great as it appears. Alone the mere inherited consciousness of being a
higher creation, with higher claims, produces a cold temperament, and
leaves the conscience quiet; we all of us feel no injustice when the
difference is very great between ourselves and another creature, and
kill a fly, for instance, without any pricks of conscience. Therefore
it was no sign of badness in Xerxes (whom even all Greeks describe
as superlatively noble) when he took a son away from his father and
had him cut in pieces, because he had expressed a nervous, ominous
distrust of the whole campaign; in this case the individual is put out
of the way like an unpleasant insect; he is too lowly to be allowed
any longer to cause annoyance to a ruler of the world. Yes, every
cruel man is not so cruel as the ill-treated one imagines the idea of
pain is not the same as its endurance. It is the same thing in the
case of unjust judges, of the journalist who leads public opinion
astray by small dishonesties. In all these cases cause and effect are
surrounded by entirely different groups of feelings and thoughts; yet
one unconsciously takes it for granted that doer and sufferer think and
feel alike, and according to this supposition we measure the guilt of
the one by the pain of the other.
82.
THE SKIN OF THE SOUL.--As the bones, flesh, entrails, and blood-vessels
are enclosed within a skin, which makes the aspect of man endurable, so
the emotions and passions of the soul are enwrapped with vanity,--it is
the skin of the soul.
83.
THE SLEEP OF VIRTUE.--When virtue has slept, it will arise again all
the fresher.
84.
THE REFINEMENT OF SHAME.--People are not ashamed to think something
foul, but they are ashamed when they think these foul thoughts are
attributed to them.
85.
MALICE IS RARE.--Most people are far too much occupied with themselves
to be malicious.
86.
THE TONGUE IN THE BALANCE.--We praise or blame according as the one or
the other affords more opportunity for exhibiting our power of judgment.
87.
ST. LUKE XVIII. 14, IMPROVED.--He that humbleth himself wishes to be
exalted.
88.
THE PREVENTION OF SUICIDE.--There is a certain right by which we may
deprive a man of life, but none by which we may deprive him of death;
this is mere cruelty.
89.
VANITY.--We care for the good opinion of men, firstly because they are
useful to us, and then because we wish to please them (children their
parents, pupils their teachers, and well-meaning people generally their
fellow-men). Only where the good opinion of men is of importance to
some one, apart from the advantage thereof or his wish to please, can
we speak of vanity. In this case the man wishes to please himself,
but at the expense of his fellow-men, either by misleading them into
holding a false opinion about him, or by aiming at a degree of "good
opinion" which must be painful to every one else (by arousing envy).
The individual usually wishes to corroborate the opinion he holds of
himself by the opinion of others, and to strengthen it in his own
eyes; but the strong habit of authority--a habit as old as man himself
--induces many to support by authority their belief in themselves: that
is to say, they accept it first from others; they trust the judgment
of others more than their own. The interest in himself, the wish to
please himself, attains to such a height in a vain man that he misleads
others into having a false, all too elevated estimation of him, and yet
nevertheless sets store by their authority,--thus causing an error and
yet believing in it. It must be confessed, therefore, that vain people
do not wish to please others so much as themselves, and that they go
so far therein as to neglect their advantage, for they often endeavour
to prejudice their fellow-men unfavourably, inimicably, enviously,
consequently injuriously against themselves, merely in order to have
pleasure in themselves, personal pleasure.
90.
THE LIMITS OF HUMAN LOVE.--A man who has declared that another is an
idiot and a bad companion, is angry when the latter eventually proves
himself to be otherwise.
91.
_MORALITÉ LARMOYANTE._--What a great deal of pleasure morality gives!
Only think what a sea of pleasant tears has been shed over descriptions
of noble and unselfish deeds! This charm of life would vanish if the
belief in absolute irresponsibility were to obtain supremacy.
92.
THE ORIGIN OF JUSTICE.--Justice (equity) has, its origin amongst powers
which are fairly equal, as Thucydides (in the terrible dialogue between
the Athenian and Melian ambassadors) rightly comprehended: that is to
say, where there is no clearly recognisable supremacy, and where a
conflict would be useless and would injure both sides, there arises the
thought of coming to an understanding and settling the opposing claims;
the character of _exchange_ is the primary character of justice. Each
party satisfies the other, as each obtains what he values more than the
other. Each one receives that which he desires, as his own henceforth,
and whatever is desired is received in return. Justice, therefore,
is recompense and exchange based on the hypothesis of a fairly equal
degree of power,--thus, originally, revenge belongs to the province
of justice, it is an exchange. Also gratitude.--Justice naturally is
based on the point of view of a judicious self-preservation, on the
egoism, therefore, of that reflection, "Why should I injure myself
uselessly and perhaps not attain my aim after all?" So much about the
_origin_ of justice. Because man, according to his intellectual custom,
has _forgotten_ the original purpose of so-called just and reasonable
actions, and particularly because for hundreds of years children have
been taught to admire and imitate such actions, the idea has gradually
arisen that such an action is un-egoistic; upon this idea, however, is
based the high estimation in which it is held: which, moreover, like
all valuations, is constantly growing, for something that is valued
highly is striven after, imitated, multiplied, and increases, because
the value of the output of toil and enthusiasm of each individual is
added to the value of the thing itself. How little moral would the
world look without this forgetfulness! A poet might say that God had
placed forgetfulness as door-keeper in the temple of human dignity.
93.
THE RIGHT OF THE WEAKER.--When any one submits under certain
conditions to a greater power, as a besieged town for instance, the
counter-condition is that one can destroy one's self, burn the town,
and so cause the mighty one a great loss. Therefore there is a kind of
_equalisation_ here, on the basis of which rights may be determined.
The enemy has his advantage in maintaining it. In so far there are
also rights between slaves and masters, that is, precisely so far as
the possession of the slave is useful and important to his master. The
_right_ originally extends _so far as_ one _appears_ to be valuable to
the other, essentially unlosable, unconquerable, and so forth. In so
far the weaker one also has rights, but lesser ones. Hence the famous
_unusquisque tantum juris habet, quantum potentia valet_ (or more
exactly, _quantum potentia valere creditur_).
94.
THE THREE PHASES OF HITHERTO EXISTING MORALITY.--It is the first
sign that the animal has become man when its actions no longer have
regard only to momentary welfare, but to what is enduring, when it
grows _useful_ and _practical_; there the free rule of reason first
breaks out. A still higher step is reached when he acts according to
the principle of _honour_ by this means he brings himself into order,
submits to common feelings, and that exalts him still higher over
the phase in which he was led only by the idea of usefulness from a
personal point of view; he respects and wishes to be respected, _i.e._
he understands usefulness as dependent upon what he thinks of others
and what others think of him. Eventually he acts, on the highest step
of the _hitherto_ existing--morality, according to _his_ standard of
things and men; he himself decides for himself and others what is
honourable, what is useful; he has become the law-giver of opinions,
in accordance with the ever more highly developed idea of what is
useful and honourable. Knowledge enables him to place that which is
most useful, that is to say the general, enduring usefulness, above the
personal, the honourable recognition of general, enduring validity
above the momentary; he lives and acts as a collective individual.
95.
THE MORALITY OF THE MATURE INDIVIDUAL.--The impersonal has hitherto
been looked upon as the actual distinguishing mark of moral action; and
it has been pointed out that in the beginning it was in consideration
of the common good that all impersonal actions were praised and
distinguished. Is not an important change in these views impending,
now when it is more and more recognised that it is precisely in the
_most personal_ possible considerations that the common good is the
greatest, so that a _strictly personal_ action now best illustrates
the present idea of morality, as utility for the mass? To make a
whole _personality_ out of ourselves, and in all that we do to keep
that personality's _highest good_ in view, carries us further than
those sympathetic emotions and actions for the benefit of others. We
all still suffer, certainly, from the too small consideration of the
personal in us; it is badly developed,--let us admit it; rather has
our mind been forcibly drawn away from it and offered as a sacrifice
to the State, to science, or to those who stand in need of help, as if
it were the bad part which must be sacrificed. We are still willing to
work for our fellow-men, but only so far as we find our own greatest
advantage in this work, no more and no less. It is only a question of
what we understand as _our advantage;_ the unripe, undeveloped, crude
individual will understand it in the crudest way.
96.
CUSTOM AND MORALITY.--To be moral, correct, and virtuous is to be
obedient to an old-established law and custom. Whether we submit
with difficulty or willingly is immaterial, enough that we do so. He
is called "good" who, as if naturally, after long precedent, easily
and willingly, therefore, does what is right, according to whatever
this may be (as, for instance, taking revenge, if to take revenge be
considered as right, as amongst the ancient Greeks). He is called
good because he is good "for something"; but as goodwill, pity,
consideration, moderation, and such like, have come, with the change
in manners, to be looked upon as "good for something," as useful, the
good-natured and helpful have, later on, come to be distinguished
specially as "good." (In the beginning other and more important kinds
of usefulness stood in the foreground.) To be evil is to be "not
moral" (immoral), to be immoral is to be in opposition to tradition,
however sensible or stupid it may be; injury to the community (the
"neighbour" being understood thereby) has, however, been looked upon
by the social laws of all different ages as being eminently the actual
"immorality," so that now at the word "evil" we immediately think of
voluntary injury to one's neighbour. The fundamental antithesis which
has taught man the distinction between moral and immoral, between good
and evil, is not the "egoistic" and "un-egoistic," but the being bound
to the tradition, law, and solution thereof. How the tradition has
_arisen_ is immaterial, at all events without regard to good and evil
or any immanent categorical imperative, but above all for the purpose
of preserving a _community,_ a generation, an association, a people;
every superstitious custom that has arisen on account of some falsely
explained accident, creates a tradition, which it is moral to follow;
to separate one's self from it is dangerous, but more dangerous for the
_community_ than for the individual (because the Godhead punishes the
community for every outrage and every violation of its rights, and the
individual only in proportion). Now every tradition grows continually
more venerable, the farther off lies its origin, the more this is
lost sight of; the veneration paid it accumulates from generation to
generation, the tradition at last becomes holy and excites awe; and
thus in any case the morality of piety is a much older morality than
that which requires un-egoistic actions.
97.
PLEASURE IN TRADITIONAL CUSTOM.--An important species of pleasure,
and therewith the source of morality, arises out of habit. Man does
what is habitual to him more easily, better, and therefore more
willingly; he feels a pleasure therein, and knows from experience
that the habitual has been tested, and is therefore useful; a custom
that we can live with is proved to be wholesome and advantageous in
contrast to all new and not yet tested experiments. According to
this, morality is the union of the pleasant and the useful; moreover,
it requires no reflection. As soon as man can use compulsion, he uses
it to introduce and enforce his _customs_; for in his eyes they are
proved as the wisdom of life. In the same way a company of individuals
compels each single one to adopt the same customs. Here the inference
is wrong; because we feel at ease with a morality, or at least
because we are able to carry on existence with it, therefore this
morality is necessary, for it seems to be the _only_ possibility of
feeling at ease; the ease of life seems to grow out of it alone. This
comprehension of the habitual as a necessity of existence is pursued
even to the smallest details of custom,--as insight into genuine
causality is very small with lower peoples and civilisations, they
take precautions with superstitious fear that everything should go in
its same groove; even where custom is difficult, hard, and burdensome,
it is preserved on account of its apparent highest usefulness. It is
not known that the same degree of well-being can also exist with other
customs, and that even higher degrees may be attained. We become aware,
however, that all customs, even the hardest, grow pleasanter and milder
with time, and that the severest way of life may become a habit and
therefore a pleasure.
98.
PLEASURE AND SOCIAL INSTINCT.--Out of his relations with other men, man
obtains a new species of _pleasure_ in addition to those pleasurable
sensations which he derives from himself; whereby he greatly increases
the scope of enjoyment. Perhaps he has already taken too many of the
pleasures of this sphere from animals, which visibly feel pleasure
when they play with each other, especially the mother with her young.
Then consider the sexual relations, which make almost every female
interesting to a male with regard to pleasure, and _vice versa._ The
feeling of pleasure on the basis of human relations generally makes
man better; joy in common, pleasure enjoyed together is increased, it
gives the individual security, makes him good-tempered, and dispels
mistrust and envy, for we feel ourselves at ease and see others at
ease. _Similar manifestations of pleasure_ awaken the idea of the same
sensations, the feeling of being like something; a like effect is
produced by common sufferings, the same bad weather, dangers, enemies.
Upon this foundation is based the oldest alliance, the object of which
is the mutual obviating and averting of a threatening danger for the
benefit of each individual. And thus the social instinct grows out of
pleasure.
99.