ON HUMAN PRUDENCE

ON HUMAN PRUDENCE

NOT THE HEIGHT: THE precipice is terrible!

The precipice, where the gaze plunges downward and the hand grasps upward. There the heart becomes giddy through its double will.

Ah, friends, have you divined also my heart’s double will?

This, this is my precipice and my danger, that my gaze shoots towards the summit, and my hand would like to clutch and lean—on the depth!

My will clings to man, I bind myself to man with chains, because I am pulled upwards to the Ubermensch: for there my other will tends.

And therefore I live blindly among men; as if I did not know them: that my hand may not entirely lose belief in firmness.

I do not know you men: this gloom and consolation is often spread around me.

I sit at the gateway for every rogue, and ask: Who wishes to deceive me?

This is my first human prudence, that I allow myself to be deceived, so as not to be on my guard against deceivers.

Ah, if I were on my guard against man, how could man be an anchor to my ball! I would be pulled upwards and away too easily!

This providence is over my fate, that I must be without foresight.

And he who does not want to die of thirst among men, must learn to drink out of all glasses; and he who wants to keep clean among men, must know how to wash himself even with dirty water.

And thus I often comforted myself: “Well then! Cheer up! Old heart! One misfortune missed you: enjoy that as your—fortune!”

But this is my second human prudence: I spare the vain more than the proud.

Is not wounded vanity the mother of all tragedies? But where pride is wounded, there grows up something better than pride.

For life to be pleasant to watch, its play must be well acted; for that, however, it needs good actors.

I found all the vain to be good actors: they act and will that others shall want to watch them—all their spirit is in this will.

They act themselves, they invent themselves; I like to look at life in their vicinity—it cures melancholy.

Therefore I spare the vain because they are the physicians of my melancholy and keep me tied to man as to a play.

And further: who can estimate the full depth of the modesty of the vain! I love and pity him for his modesty.

He would learn his belief in himself from you; he feeds upon your glances, he eats praise out of your hands.

He believes even your lies if you lie favorably about him: for his heart sighs in its depths: “What am I?”

And if true virtue is that virtue which is unconscious of itself: well, the vain man is unconscious of his modesty!—

But this is my third human prudence: I do not let the sight of the evil be spoiled for me by your timidity.

I am happy to see the marvels the hot sun hatches: tigers and palms and rattlesnakes.

Also among men a beautiful breed hatches in the hot sun and much that is marvelous in the evil.

Indeed, as your wisest did not seem to me so very wise, so I also found that human evil did not live up to its reputation.

And I often shook my head and asked: why go on rattling, you rattlesnakes?

Truly, there is still a future even for evil! And the hottest South is still undiscovered by man.

How many things are now called the worst evil, which are only twelve feet wide and three months long! But some day greater dragons will come into the world.

For that the Übermensch may not lack his dragon, the super-dragon, that is worthy of him: for that much hot sun must yet burn on damp jungles!

Your wild cats must first become tigers and your poisonous toads crocodiles: for the good hunter shall have a good hunt!

And truly, you good and just! In you there is much to be laughed at, and especially your fear of what has so far been called “the devil!”

What is great is so foreign to your souls that to you the Übermensch would be frightful in his goodness!

And you wise and knowing ones, you would flee from the burning sun of wisdom in which the Ubermensch joyfully baths his nakedness!

You highest men whom my eyes have seen! This is my doubt of you and my secret laughter: I suspect you would call my Übermensch—a devil!

Ah, I became tired of those highest and best: from their “height” I longed to go up, out, and away to the Übermensch!

A horror came over me when I saw those best ones naked: then there grew for me the wings to soar away into distant futures.

Into more distant futures, into more southerly Souths than ever artist dreamed of: there, where gods are ashamed of all clothes!

But I want to see you disguised, you neighbors and fellow men, and well dressed and vain and dignified as ‘the good and just.’—

And disguised I will myself sit among you—that I may mistake you and myself: for that is my last human prudence.—

Thus spoke Zarathustra.