In matters of indifference (and they are infinitely many), we must

always do the will of others; that makes living easy and brings good

friends without any attending difficulties.

With dependent people it is best to be short, but always friendly and

good-mannered, if they themselves know their place; otherwise “_parcere

subjectis et debellare superbos_.”

It is always difficult to know how to conduct oneself rightly toward

very wealthy or very distinguished people; for to be with them means

either a kind of dependent relationship, or a constant watchfulness

against receiving favors that is inconsistent with real friendship.

Real friendship gladly gives and gladly receives, without keeping any

account. Besides, wealth and distinction very often make men insensible

to life’s true riches, and limit them in their views of men and life.

It is not pleasant to have to do with people who do not think out their

own problems, but are always seeking advice and never following it. One

should especially avoid lightly advising one to marry or not to marry,

nor should one ever express his opinion to authors about their yet

unpublished works. It is very hard, too, to fellowship with those who

are “persecuted by fate,” and have no conception of their own failings.

Christ himself on one occasion curtly dismissed such a man, who wished

to make him a “judge and a divider.”

Those who are always reflecting over themselves or others, likewise

make companions in whom is no reliance nor peace. They are always vain,

besides weak and forever vacillating in their judgment of others, as

well as in their estimation of themselves. They love no one, not always

themselves even, and are loved by no one. Shun them.

Against naïvely shameless people there are three kinds of self-defence:

roughness, which, however, is somewhat lowering; coldness, which is

not human and leaves a reproach on the conscience; and humor. The last

alone shows true superiority.

Selfish men who have quite lost the sense of shame have a way, when

they want something of another man, of insinuating to him that it will

be for his own advantage, so that they may be exempt from showing

gratitude or from resting under any other obligation in return. This

is something one must not, even tacitly, ignore, but first set the

matter quietly upon its proper footing, if he intends to respond to the

request.

Should one always give to those who beg? I believe, generally speaking,

yes; the commands of Christianity in this regard are too positive; in

most cases the question is rather “How much?” and this depends upon

the good-will of the giver. One should at least turn beggars away in

a friendly spirit; a kind word is also a gift and many a time of more

real value than a small bit of money. But that is something to be

learnt, and is really a very great art.

To give cheerfully is, on the other hand, partly a habit. Children

ought to be accustomed to it from childhood, instead of being

one-sidedly trained to mere frugality, as more commonly happens. They

should be frugal as regards themselves, but not as regards others.

An outward expedient is to carry no purse; it is easier to thrust the

hand into the pocket than to open a purse.

Very much that is not the proper thing in human intercourse springs

from simple inertness toward the good, or from a desire for personal

comfort.

Many men, whom everybody knows by sight and praises, are quiet and

tolerably dutiful--egotists,--whose ways one must not follow.

The really noble men, the aristocracy of the spirit as opposed to this

mere bourgeoisie, have always, on the other hand, found enemies.

Perhaps the most useful, though by no means the pleasantest,

intercourse is with our enemies; not only because they are often

future friends, but especially because we receive from them, more than

from any other, a candid disclosure as to our own faults and a strong

impulse to amend them; because, too, they possess, on the whole, the

truest judgment as to the weak points of a man’s nature. Finally, we

also learn, simply by living under their sharp eyes, how to know and

practise the important virtues of self-control, of a strict love for

the right, and of a constant attention to oneself.

That is, therefore, a foolish expression (which is often used with

intent to praise) when it is said of a man, perhaps in an obituary

notice, that “he had no enemies.” A man of the right sort does not go

through life without making enemies; but it is a fine thing, of course,

if at the end of his life he no longer has any.

By this I do not mean to imply that this intercourse with enemies is an

easy matter; on the contrary, it belongs to the most difficult tasks

of a rightly conducted life. It is particularly hard to endure a long

series of injustices which seem to have success on their side. Here

comes the need of faith in a just God, who can employ even the wicked

as his instruments, but can hold them so firmly in hand that they may

go no farther than he wills. Otherwise we should not go through these

things without harm. Surely no one who has learned to know himself

will make the assertion that he is already a past-master in this art.

Trust in God is the first essential; after that, the best means for

acquiring this art is seriously to resolve that we will, as much as

possible, avoid useless anger, and take care not to judge our opponents

unjustly; and in any case never to allow real hatred to settle in the

soul. This can easily be done at the very first moment of the affront;

it is harder later, when hate is once established in the heart. It is

very helpful, besides, to fix clearly in mind, from the beginning, that

we absolutely must forgive, even to “seventy times seven.” This thought

makes it much easier to determine from the outset to keep collected,

and thus we are better disposed to shut out hatred from the start.

Here are some other helpful considerations:

The truth is not always victorious on this earth; that is, not the

truth as it is embodied in a man, mixed with all his weaknesses and

errors; for which very reason it is impossible for it always to

conquer. But God is victorious, and nothing happens against his will;

this alone is the true consolation when enemies assault us.

The enemies God sends a man he also takes away, as soon as they have

fulfilled their purpose. “When a man’s ways please the Lord, then he

sets even his enemies at peace with him.” That is a very sure sign that

one stands in God’s grace.

It is much better to forget the evil one receives than to forgive it.

It is easy for a remnant of bitterness to cling about forgiveness, or

a kind of haughtiness, a kind of holding oneself superior to offenders

“beneath one’s notice.”

Bearing a grudge, feeling resentment, taking things ill is always a

mark of a rather small nature. Better take revenge; impotent hate is

quite worthless and injures only yourself, not your adversary.

In the criticisms made by one’s enemies there is in most cases a grain

of truth, though put in a light too sharp and one-sided. Therefore it

is always well to listen to an enemy’s criticisms, but not to rate them

too high nor to feel them too keenly. Above all, one should never let

them impose upon him; that is always a mistake.

That men speak evil of us is hard, but it preserves us, as Thomas à

Kempis says, “from the magic mist of vainglory,” and compels us to

seek God, who knows our innermost heart, as our witness and judge. Then

for the first time he becomes indispensable and fast bound to us.

Such a passage through ignominy is therefore especially needful for men

who afterward are to bear great honors without harm.

One may accordingly be induced not to hate his enemies, not merely

through motives of religion, but also through motives of prudence;

for enemies not only often become friends later, but one is likewise

indebted to them for very many correct views; on the other hand, those

who at first are very amiable often speak a different language later

on. Those who oppose one in important matters are always particularly

easy to come to terms with; for they are people who have serious

scruples and are open to reason. The indifferent, who interpose no

objections, but also do not listen, are far more dangerous opponents.

The right programme for one’s demeanor toward enemies is not, generally

speaking, that they must be crushed (as would be quite impossible in

most cases), but that they are to be reconciled. Whoever keeps this

constantly before his eyes will never hate too violently and will

suffer much to pass by in silence that discussion would make only worse.

Wherever possible, then, we must deal with our enemies in our best and

calmest frame of mind; for if we are inwardly ruffled, we are also much

more inclined to an unfavorable and unjust judgment of others. Nor

should we lower ourselves before them in order to gain their good-will;

that seldom succeeds. Many men, many nations in fact, will not at all

tolerate too much kindness.

Thus it is a great point of prudence not to come frequently, and never

unnecessarily, into the company of those who are radically opposed to

our conception of life. For we either suffer some loss in character, or

there results a widening of the chasm.

But what, then, is there left for us to hate? or are we to explain

everything away? I am far from asserting that. There is still enough

left in the world worth hating, and with this, war can and must be

waged. Above all, there is the spirit of being bad on principle, the

spirit that purposely contends against the spirit of God, and that

persecutes the good because it is good and endeavors to overthrow it.

To this spirit give your vigorous and outspoken hate, wherever and in

whatever form it appears; but in most cases it dies out in the men who

embody it, in the third or fourth generation at the very latest. Very

often it changes, in their descendants, to the opposite spirit of good.

To give help to evil men of this stripe, or to stand “impartially”

between them and good men, instead of standing by the latter in every

such conflict, is a serious fault that will be avenged on every one who

is guilty of it.

* * * * *

A very difficult chapter to write is that on companionship with women,

for they are the instruments of both the best and the worst that can

be awakened in a man: on the one hand, unbridled self-gratification

and alienation from all that is higher and nobler, qualities which

they awaken especially in young people and which are the chief

cause of the downfall of entire nations; on the other hand, a most

efficacious uplift away from a man’s natural tendencies, to a wholly

different, freer, and better conception of life. Most critics of women

accordingly err in speaking of them as of a uniform mass similar in

character, while, on the contrary, in this part of humanity there

is a far more marked division into two distinct classes, and a much

more constant retention and transmission of good as well as bad

characteristics.

In a very peculiar passage of the Old Testament the same distinction is

made, even in that very early stage of humanity, between the “sons of

God” and the “daughters of men,” who are not lacking in outward charm,

indeed, but through their very charms become a curse.

This difference in women is still to be found in our day, and so

the first counsel is this: Have no unnecessary association with the

“daughters of men” and guard against every closer alliance with them,

no matter what may be sung by the poets, for they themselves are often

led astray by just this peculiar charm of women.

In other respects, however, the difference between women and men would

not be so great if their education and especially their legal position

were more alike, and toward this the politics and pedagogy of to-day

are striving. Christianity at any rate makes no distinction, and even

the Old Testament already knows of women (even married ones) who

filled the highest state offices, not of hereditary right as to-day,

forsooth, but solely by virtue of their own worth, of the spirit which

dwelt within. The “spirit of God” can surely dwell in every human

being, and this is the thing that decides, and not the structure of the

body.

Women are in general more easy to understand than men. They deceive

no man for long, in the sense that he really holds the bad in them

for good, but only in the sense that he prefers the bad to the good

because of its sensual charm, in the false hope that this charm may be

a lasting and happy one. For women, therefore, there is surely but one

means of lastingly appearing to be something that they desire; and that

is, to be it. Yet it is harder, though by so much the more meritorious,

for them to be spiritual, good, and noble, since, instead of reaping

recognition for it, they are often obliged to see exactly the opposite

qualities valued and sought. A truly noble woman, therefore, stands on

a higher level of moral perfection than the best man.

Furthermore, what is generally true of humanity is especially

applicable to women, that those who have not experienced trouble, but

have only been fed upon the pleasures of life, remain superficial and

mediocre. With women the latter experience is found in even special

measure, because their whole present training, in the so-called

cultured circles, tends to give them the impression that a finer

enjoyment of life is the real aim of their existence.

From this conception of life there results a naïve and thoughtless

egotism which conceives the whole world to be only a beautiful meadow,

where the women have all the flowers to gather to adorn themselves with

and to please themselves with. In this egotism they often far surpass

men in selfishness; the more amiable outer side of this naïveté may not

blind us to this.

The character of women can very well be judged from their treatment of

flowers. A girl that on her walk pulls as many flowers as possible for

herself and has no desire to leave any behind for others has a tendency

to greediness and pleasure-seeking. A lady who, after looking at a

beautiful flower or bouquet for a short time, will permit it to lie and

wither, instead of putting it in water or of making some poor child

happy with it, has no warm heart. But if she pulls flowers quite to

pieces, she will some day no less unconcernedly deal with men who have

put their trust in her.

It is naturally still worse with the hearts of those tender creatures

who with their fingers crush a harmless gnat sunning itself at the

window, or purposely tread upon a little worm or beetle crawling over

their path. It is well to keep oneself at a good distance from them.

Likewise from all those who wear conspicuous dresses; the clothing of a

true lady should never attract attention, either by being too striking

or too plain.

Women do rightly, on the whole, when they act with warmth and feeling;

they are rarely fitted for a merely intellectual companionship, and

those who are, are not very lovable, as a rule, and have no inward

peace. Even a very clever woman brings unqualified happiness only to

a man at least as clever, and she is herself never happy if she has

the constant feeling that she far surpasses the man. Ardent feminine

natures are a great happiness for him who understands how to enjoy

their companionship without blame; otherwise they are like a fire that

diffuses light and warmth indeed, but may consume their own house and

the houses of others. Very quiet women, on the other hand, easily grow

to be somewhat insipid.

What women value most in men is power, whose complete absence they

never pardon. Therefore adorers like poor Brackenburg, in Goethe’s

“Egmont,” never get their deserts from them; they actually think more

of the men who slight them or treat them badly than they do of men who

are weak.

Most unhappy are the feelings of a noble woman when, through her own

bad choice, or through the folly of her relations, she has fallen to a

weakling who seeks compensation for his unmanliness in the outer world

by a constant and petty mastery in the house. Dante would have had to

invent yet another special punishment for these house-tyrants, against

whom it is just the best women that are defenceless, and who may be

governed only by a woman of strong egotism.

With this, we have come to the question of marriage. The best

relationship with women not already in the family is marriage, and it

is one of the chief causes of the deterioration of our age that (and

in large measure on account of the pleasure-seeking and the false

education of the women themselves) marriage is made difficult to a

large proportion of educated men, so that they do not marry at all, or

do not marry at the right age. Indeed, among the “civilized” nations,

it has actually resulted in the circumstance, unfavorable for the

position of women, that they are no longer valued for their own sake,

but only for what they “bring along” with them.

Who in fact could wish to torment himself with cares his life long,

just to support a vain creature fond of dress and pleasure, while he

might, with the same means, procure a far pleasanter mode of life? This

is the word pretty generally current now among the younger lords of

creation, who have none too much of the spirit of sacrifice.

It is often rather doubtful whether marriage always deserves to be

called a “divine” institution under present-day conditions, when the

husband very commonly seeks in this way a betterment of his financial

situation, or, if he belongs to the less “cultured” classes, seeks a

slave to do his work without pay, while the parents of the wife wish

to secure, in marriage, a life-insurance policy for their daughter,

however wretched a one it may prove to be, and the daughter herself,

in the momentary triumph of this social promotion, forgets the sad

ensuing loss of her rights. It is one of the saddest yet commonest

tragedies to see a fine, highly educated girl in the almost unlimited

power of a mediocre young man, solely because many mothers still regard

it as a kind of shame to keep their daughters unmarried.

We can understand why most women are glad to marry, because it is only

in a good marriage that they have the opportunity of independently

unfolding all the powers that lie within them. But that the selfish

ones, who know how to put themselves at the right time upon a proper

footing of defence, have often a better lot than the good wives, who

lavish a vast amount of love, fidelity, self-sacrifice, thought,

and vitality upon a questionable man of whom they have made for

themselves an incorrect picture in their fancy--this is one of life’s

most melancholy experiences, and one that might most make us doubt

God’s justice. A woman, therefore, should never marry entirely below

her station, never marry a man who is morally not entirely above

suspicion, or is pettily egotistic, or is not a man of thoroughly

good disposition; nor, as a rule, should she marry out of her country

and nationality. But for men who are seriously struggling upward, an

alliance with a high-minded woman from the better ranks of life is the

method best of all suited to get quickly forward.

It will always be disputed whether it is better, in a good marriage, to

seek and to find ardent love, or quiet esteem and friendship. I would

decide for the latter, as a general rule; but--he who does not know the

former knows not what life is.

The true and unselfish companionship of a man with a worthy woman

of his home circle--wife, mother, sister, daughter, and not least,

grandmother and granddaughter--undoubtedly belongs to the highest, the

tenderest, the purest joys of this life, and brings out qualities in

him that otherwise would always lie fallow. A marriage is not by a long

way always to be called a stroke of good fortune, but an old bachelor,

too, is never the man that could and should be made of him.

* * * * *

On the whole do not seek to know men by relying overmuch on theories.

The greater part of that knowledge is attained through one’s own

experiences, mostly sad ones. Only, resolve to experience nothing twice

over. They who do so are the truly wise; not those, if there are any

such, who make no mistakes.

Besides, our knowledge of men must not serve merely to help us separate

the goats from the sheep and henceforth concern ourselves only with

the latter; but it should serve to keep us from being deceived, and

to enable us to work for the improvement of ourselves and of all with

whom our lot brings us in touch, with a better understanding of their

character. For when a man once abandons the belief that every single

human soul has an infinite value and that it is worth any trouble taken

to save it, then he finds himself upon an inclined plane on which he

gradually slips back again into complete selfishness.

The final word as to the knowledge of men must be--love to all. Love

alone enables us to know a man exactly as he is, and yet not to flee

him. To know men, without love, has always been a misfortune and the

cause of the profound melancholy of many wise men in all ages; it has

driven them to renounce the society of their fellows, or to take refuge

in the theory of absolute government. For there are only two ways of

dealing with men, when one has once learned to know them--through fear,

or through love. All intermediate methods are delusions.

But if any one appeals to fear, or if love is to any one only

lip-service, let him hear Brother Jacopone da Todi: “That I love my

neighbor I really know only when, after he has injured me, I love him

no less than before. For if I then loved him less, I should thereby

prove that, before, it was not he I loved, but myself.”

IV. WHAT IS CULTURE?

IV. WHAT IS CULTURE?[1]

A prophet of Israel of the latter days of the Kings, who himself seems

to have been, in a way, self-taught, announces to his nation the

oncoming of a new era in about the following words: “Behold, the days

come, saith the Lord God, that I will send a famine in the land, not a

famine of bread, but of the hearing of the truth. In that day shall the

fair youths and maidens faint, who now are relying upon the god at Dan

and the way of Beer-sheba. For they shall so fall therewith that they

shall not be able to rise again.” What Amos meant by the god at Dan and

the “way of Beer-sheba” is hardly to be discovered now with exactness,

and indeed, for our purposes, we may leave it undetermined. Only thus

much is clear from the context, that they were for the time elements

of culture whose insufficiency should later come to light--as actually

happened at the beginning of the Christian era.

Widely recognized phenomena of our own days fittingly remind us again

of these ancient, half-forgotten words.

On the other hand, a struggle that may almost be called violent is

passing through the broad masses of the nations. They are striving to

win culture for themselves as quickly as possible, so that they may

elevate themselves to the power which, in their view, goes hand in hand

with this culture, or, as they mostly conceive it, with the acquisition

of certain kinds of knowledge.

On the other hand, the upper circles of the classes hitherto known as

cultured are being gripped with a kind of despair over the already

attained and still attainable results of this search for knowledge for

its own sake, as a renowned scientist has already plainly expressed

with his well-known saying, “Ignoramus, ignorabimus,” and as is

becoming actually manifest in the ever-growing specializing of the

sciences. For this specializing means, at bottom, nothing less than

that there is no universal knowledge any more, still less a universal

culture which comprehends all that men have achieved and thought; it

means that there are only isolated departments of knowledge, behind

which the abyss of ignorance yawns, for the most learned specialist,

no less than for the most commonplace layman.

The steps of life: further essays on happiness · 第 4 / 12 段