353.
Freedom of Speech.—“The truth must be told, even if the world should be shivered in fragments”—so cries the eminent and grandiloquent Fichte.—Yes, certainly; but we must have it first.—What he really means, however, is that each man should speak his mind, even if everything were to be turned upside down. This point, however, is open to dispute.
354.
The Courage for Suffering.—Such as we now are, we are capable of bearing a tolerable amount of displeasure, and our stomach is suited to such indigestible food. If we were deprived of it, indeed, we should perhaps think the banquet of life insipid; and if it were not for our willingness to suffer pain we should have to let too many pleasures escape us!
355.
Admirers.—The man who admires up to the point that he would be ready to crucify any one who did not admire, must be reckoned among the executioners of his party—beware of shaking hands with him, even when he belongs to your own side.
356.
The Effect of Happiness.—The first effect of happiness is the feeling of power, and this feeling longs to manifest itself, whether towards ourselves or other men, or towards ideas and imaginary beings. Its most common modes of manifestation are making presents, derision, and destruction—all three being due to a common fundamental instinct.
357.
Moral Mosquitoes.—Those moralists who are lacking in the love of knowledge, and who are only acquainted with the pleasure of giving pain, have the spirit and tediousness of provincials. Their pastime, as cruel as it is lamentable, is to observe their neighbour with the greatest possible closeness, and, unperceived, to place a pin in such position that he cannot help pricking himself with it. Such men have preserved something of the wickedness of schoolboys, who cannot amuse themselves without hunting and torturing either the living or the dead.
358.
Reasons and their Unreason.—You feel a dislike for him, and adduce innumerable reasons for this dislike, but I only believe in your dislike and not in your reasons! You flatter yourself by adducing as a rational conclusion, both to yourself and to me, that which happens to be merely a matter of instinct.
359.
Approving of Something.—We approve of marriage in the first place because we are not yet acquainted with it, in the second place because we have accustomed ourselves to it, and in the third place because we have contracted it—that is to say, in most cases. And yet nothing has been proved thereby in favour of the value of marriage in general.
360.
No Utilitarians.—“Power which has greatly suffered both in deed and in thought is better than powerlessness which only meets with kind treatment”—such was the Greek way of thinking. In other words, the feeling of power was prized more highly by them than any mere utility or fair renown.
361.
Ugly in Appearance.—Moderation appears to itself to be quite beautiful: it is unaware of the fact that in the eyes of the immoderate it seems coarse and insipid, and consequently ugly.
362.
Different in Their Hatred.—There are men who do not begin to hate until they feel weak and tired: in other respects they are fair-minded and superior. Others only begin to hate when they see an opportunity for revenge: in other respects they carefully avoid both secret and open wrath, and overlook it whenever there is any occasion for it.
363.
Men of Chance.—It is pure hazard which plays the essential part in every invention, but most men do not meet with this hazard.
364.
Choice of Environment.—We should beware of living in an environment where we are neither able to maintain a dignified silence nor to express our loftier thoughts, so that only our complaints and needs and the whole story of our misery are left to be told. We thus become dissatisfied with ourselves and with our surroundings, and to the discomfort which brings about our complaints we add the vexation which we feel at always being in the position of grumblers. But we should, on the contrary, live in a place where we should be ashamed to speak of ourselves and where it would not be necessary to do so.—Who, however, thinks of such things, or of the choice in such things? We talk about our “fate,” brace up our shoulders, and sigh, “Unfortunate Atlas that I am!”
365.
Vanity.—Vanity is the dread of appearing to be original. Hence it is a lack of pride, but not necessarily a lack of originality.
366.
The Criminal's Grief.—The criminal who has been found out does not suffer because of the crime he has committed, but because of the shame and annoyance caused him either by some blunder which he has made or by being deprived of his habitual element; and keen discernment is necessary to distinguish such cases. Every one who has had much experience of prisons and reformatories is astonished at the rare instances of really genuine “remorse,” and still more so at the longing shown to return to the old wicked and beloved crime.