object:3.05 - ON VIRTUE THAT MAKES SMALL
book class:Thus Spoke Zarathustra
author class:Friedrich Nietzsche
subject class:Philosophy
subject class:Poetry
class:chapter
ON VIRTUE
THAT
MAKES SMALL
1
When Zarathustra was on land again he did not proceed straight to his mountain and his cave, but he undertook many ways and questions and found out this
and that; so that he said of himself, joking: "Behold
a river that flows, winding and twisting, back to its
source" For he wanted to determine what had happened to man meanwhile: whether he had become
greater or smaller. And once he saw a row of new
houses; then he was amazed and said:
"What do these houses mean? Verily, no great soul
put them up as its likeness. Might an idiotic child have
taken them out of his toy box? Would that another
child might put them back into his box! And these
rooms and chambers-can men go in and out of them?
They look to me as if made for silken dolls, or for
stealthy nibblers who probably also let themselves be
nibbled stealthily.'
And Zarathustra stood still and reflected. At last he
said sadly: "Everything has become smaller Everywhere I see lower gates: those who are of my kind
probably still go through, but they must stoop. Oh,
when shall I get back to my homeland, where I need
no longer stoop-no longer stoop before those who are
small And Zarathustra sighed and looked into the
distance. On that same day, however, he made his
speech on virtue that makes small.
168
2
I walk among this people and I keep my eyes open:
they do not forgive me that I do not envy their virtues.
They bite at me because I say to them: small people
need small virtues-and because I find it hard to accept that small people are needed.
I am still like the rooster in a strange yard, where
the hens also bite at him; but I am not angry with the
hens on that account. I am polite to them as to all
small annoyances; to be prickly to what is small strikes
me as wisdom for hedgehogs.
They all speak of me when they sit around the fire
in the evening; they speak of me, but no one thinks
of me. This is the new stillness I have learned: their
noise concerning me spreads a cloak over my thoughts.
They noise among themselves: "What would this
gloomy cloud bring us? Let us see to it that it does not
bring us a plague." And recently a woman tore back
her child when it wanted to come to me. "Take the
children awayl" she cried; "such eyes scorch children's
souls." They cough when I speak: they think that a
cough is an argument against strong winds; they guess
nothing of the roaring of my happiness. "We have no
time yet for Zarathustra," they argue; but what matters
a time that "has no time" for Zarathustra?
And when they praise me, how could I go to sleep
on their praise? Their praise is a belt of thorns to me:
it scratches me even as I shake it off. And this too I
have learned among them: he who gives praise poses
as if he were giving back; in truth, however, he wants
more gifts.
Ask my foot whether it likes their way of lauding
and luring Verily, after such a beat and ticktock it has
no wish either to dance or to stand still. They would
169
laud and lure me into a small virtue; they would persuade my foot to the ticktock of a small happiness.
I walk among this people and I keep my eyes open:
they have become smaller, and they are becoming
smaller and smaller; but this is due to their doctrine of
happiness and virtue. For they are modest in virtue,
too-because they want contentment. But only a modest
virtue gets along with contentment.
To be sure, even they learn in their way to stride
and to stride forward: I call it their hobbling. Thus they
become a stumbling block for everyone who is in a
hurry. And many among them walk forward while
looking backward with their necks stiff: I like running
into them. Foot and eye should not lie nor give the lie
to each other. But there is much lying among the small
people. Some of them will, but most of them are only
willed. Some of them are genuine, but most of them are
bad actors. There are unconscious actors among them
and involuntary actors; the genuine are always rare,
especially genuine actors.
There is little of man here; therefore their women
strive to be mannish. For only he who is man enough
will release the woman in woman.
And this hypocrisy I found to be the worst among
them, that even those who command, hypocritically
feign the virtues of those who serve. "I serve, you
serve, we serve"-thus prays even the hypocrisy of the
rulers; and woe, if the first lord is merely the first
servant!
Alas, into their hypocrisies too the curiosity of my
eyes flew astray; and well I guessed their fly-happiness
and their humming around sunny windowpanes. So
much kindness, so much weakness do I see; so much
justice and pity, so much weakness.
Round, righteous, and kind they are to each other,
170
round like grains of sand, righteous and kind with grains
of sand. Modestly to embrace a small happiness-that
they call "resignation"-and modestly they squint the
while for another small happiness. At bottom, these
simpletons want a single thing most of all: that nobody
should hurt them. Thus they try to please and gratify
everybody. This, however, is cowardice, even if it be
called virtue.
And if they once speak roughly, these small people, I
hear only their hoarseness, for every draft makes them
hoarse. They are clever, their virtues have clever fingers.
But they lack fists, their fingers do not know how to
hide behind fists. Virtue to them is that which makes
modest and tame: with that they have turned the wolf
into a dog and man himself into man's best domestic
animal.
'"e have placed our chair in the middle," your
smirking says to me; "and exactly as far from dying
fighters as from amused sows." That, however, is mediocrity, though it be called moderation.
3
I walk among this people and I let many a word
drop; but they know neither how to accept nor how to
retain.
They are amazed that I did not come to revile venery
and vice; and verily, I did not come to warn against
pickpockets either.
They are amazed that I am not prepared to teach wit
to their cleverness and to whet it-as if they did not
have enough clever boys, whose voices screech like
slate pencils
And when I shout, "Curse all cowardly devils in you
who like to whine and fold their hands and pray," they
shout, "Zarathustra is godless." And their teachers of
171
resignation shout it especially; but it is precisely into
their ears that I like to shout, "Yes, I am Zarathustra
the godless!" These teachers of resignation! Whatever
is small and sick and scabby, they crawl to like lice;
and only my nausea prevents me from squashing them.
Well then, this is my preaching for their ears: I am
Zarathustra the godless, who speaks: 'Who is more godless than I, that I may delight in his instruction?'
I am Zarathustra the godless: where shall I find my
equal? And all those are my equals who give themselves
their own will and reject all resignation.
I am Zarathustra the godless: I still cook every
chance in my pot. And only when it has been cooked
through there do I welcome it as my food. And verily,
many a chance came to me domineeringly; but my will
spoke to it still more domineeringly-and immediately
it lay imploringly on its knees, imploring that it might
find a hearth and heart in me, and urging with flattery,
"Look, Zarathustra, how only a friend comes to his
friend!"
But why do I speak where nobody has my ears? And
so let me shout it into all the winds: You are becoming
smaller and smaller, you small people You are crumbling, you comfortable ones. You will yet perish of
your many small virtues, of your many small abstentions,
of your many small resignations. Too considerate, too
yielding is your soil. But that a tree may become great,
it must strike hard roots around hard rocks.
What you abstain from too weaves at the web of all
human future; your nothing too is a spider web and a
spider, which lives on the blood of the future. And
when you receive it is like stealing, you small men of
virtue; but even among rogues, honor says, "One should
steal only where one cannot rob."
"It will give eventually"-that is another teaching of
172
resignation. But I tell you who are comfortable: it will
take and will take more and more from youl Oh, that
you would reject all halfhearted willing and would become resolute in sloth and deedl
Alas, that you would understand my word: "Do whatever you will, but first be such as are able to will.
"Do love your neighbor as yourself, but first be such
as love themselves-loving with a great love, loving
with a great contempt." Thus speaks Zarathustra the
godless.
But why do I speak where nobody has my ears? It is
still an hour too early for me here. I am my own
precursor among this people, my own cock's crow
through dark lanes. But their hour will come! And mine
will come tool Hourly, they are becoming smaller,
poorer, more sterile-poor herbs poor soil and soon
they shall stand there like dry grass and prairie
and verily, weary of themselves and languishing even
more than for water-for fire.
0 blessed hour of lightning! 0 secret before noonl I
yet hope to turn them into galloping fires and heralds
with fiery tongues-they shall yet proclaim with fiery
tongues: It is coming, it is near-the great noonl
Thus spoke Zarathustra.
questions, comments, suggestions/feedback, take-down requests, contribute, etc
contact me @ integralyogin@gmail.com or join the integral discord server (chatrooms)
if the page you visited was empty, it may be noted and I will try to fill it out. cheers
change font "color":
change "background-color":
change "font-family":
change "padding":
change "table font size":
last updated: 2022-02-04 04:15:04
324658 site hits