ON THE FAMOUS WISE MEN

ON THE FAMOUS WISE MEN8

YOU HAVE SERVED THE people and the people’s superstition, you famous wise men!-and not the truth! And it is just for that reason they paid you respect.

And also for that reason they tolerated your unbelief, because it was a joke and a diversion for the people. Thus the master indulges his slaves and even enjoys their insolence.

But he who is hated by the people as a wolf is by the dogs: he is the free spirit, the enemy of fetters, the non-worshipper, the dweller in the woods.

To hunt him out of his lair-that was always called “sense of right” by the people: they have always set their sharpest-toothed dogs upon him.

“For the truth is there: where the people are! Woe, woe to the seekers!” Thus has it echoed through all time.

You would justify your people in their reverence: you called that “Will to Truth,” you famous wise men!

And your heart has always said to itself: “I have come from the people: from there also came to me the voice of God.”

You have always been stiff-necked and clever, like the ass, as the advocate of the people.

And many a powerful one who wanted to fare well with the people has harnessed in front of his horses—a little ass, a famous wise man.

And now I should wish, you famous wise men, that you would finally throw off entirely the lion’s skin!

The speckled skin of the beast of prey, and the matted hair of the investigator, the searcher, and the conqueror!

Ah, for me to learn to believe in your “truthfulness,” you would first have to break your will to revere.

Truthful-so would I call him who goes into godless deserts and has broken his revering heart.

In the yellow sands and burnt by the sun he may well peer thirstily at the islands filled with springs, where the living repose under shady trees.

But his thirst does not persuade him to become like those comfortable ones: for where there are oases, there are also idols.

Hungry, violent, lonely, godless: thus the lion-will wants itself.

Free from the happiness of slaves, redeemed from gods and worship, fearless and fearful, great and lonely: thus is the will of the truthful.

The truthful, the free spirits, have always dwelt in the desert, as lords of the desert; but in the cities dwell the well-fed famous wise men—the beasts of burden.

For they always pull the people’s cart as asses!

Not that I am angry with them for that: but for me they are still servants and beasts in harness, even though they glitter in harnesses of gold.

And often they have been good servants and praiseworthy. For thus speaks virtue: “If you must be a servant, seek him whom you can serve best!

“The spirit and virtue of your master should flourish because you are his servant: thus you yourself will flourish with his spirit and virtue!”

And truly, you famous wise men, you servants of the people! You yourselves have flourished with the people’s spirit and virtue—and the people by you! I say it to your honor!

But to me even in your virtue you are still of the people, the people with purblind eyes-the people who do not know what spirit is!

Spirit is the life that itself cuts into life: by its own agony it increases its own knowledge-did you already know that?

And the spirit’s happiness is this: to be anointed and consecrated with tears as a sacrificial beast—did you already know that?

And the blindness of the blind and his seeking and groping shall yet testify to the power of the sun into which he has gazed—did you already know that?

And the enlightened shall learn to build with mountains! It is a small thing for the spirit to move mountains-did you already know that?

You know only the sparks of the spirit: but you do not see the anvil it is, and the cruelty of its hammer!

Truly, you do not know the spirit’s pride! But still less could you endure the spirit’s modesty, should it ever want to speak!

And never yet could you cast your spirit into a pit of snow: you are not hot enough for that! Thus you also do not know the delight of its chill.

In all respects, however, you are too familiar with the spirit; and you have often made of wisdom a poorhouse and a hospital for bad poets.

You are no eagles: thus you have never experienced the happiness of the spirit’s terror. And he who is not a bird should not roost over abysses.

You are lukewarm to me: but all deep knowledge flows cold. The innermost wells of the spirit are ice-cold: a refreshment to hot hands and handlers.

You stand there respectable and stiff and with straight backs, you famous wise men!-no strong wind or will drives you.

Have you never seen a sail crossing the sea, rounded and swollen and trembling with the violence of the wind?

Like the sail trembling with the violence of the spirit, my wisdom crosses the sea—my wild wisdom!

But you servants of the people, you famous wise men—how could you go with me!—

Thus spoke Zarathustra.