We Philologists, Volume 8 | Page 4

do nothing. (As a proof of this Voss should be studied!)
11
Let it be considered how differently a science is propagated from the
way in which any special talent in a family is transmitted. The bodily
transmission of an individual science is something very rare. Do the
sons of philologists easily become philologists? Dubito. Thus there is
no such accumulation of philological capacity as there was, let us say,
in Beethoven's family of musical capacity. Most philologists begin
from the beginning, and even then they learn from books, and not
through travels, &c. They get some training, of course.
12
Most men are obviously in the world accidentally; no necessity of a
higher kind is seen in them. They work at this and that, their talents are
average. How strange! The manner in which they live shows that they
think very little of themselves: they merely esteem themselves in so far
as they waste their energy on trifles (whether these be mean or
frivolous desires, or the trashy concerns of their everyday calling). In
the so-called life's calling, which everyone must choose, we may
perceive a touching modesty on the part of mankind. They practically
admit in choosing thus. "We are called upon to serve and to be of
advantage to our equals--the same remark applies to our neighbour and
to his neighbour, so everyone serves somebody else; no one is carrying
out the duties of his calling for his own sake, but always for the sake of
others and thus we are like geese which support one another by the one

leaning against the other. _When the aim of each one of us is centred in
another, then we have all no object in existing;_ and this 'existing for
others' is the most comical of comedies."
13
Vanity is the involuntary inclination to set one's self up for an
individual while not really being one; that is to say, trying to appear
independent when one is dependent. The case of wisdom is the exact
contrary: it appears to be dependent while in reality it is independent.
14
The Hades of Homer--From what type of existence is it really copied? I
think it is the description of the philologist: it is better to be a
day-labourer than to have such an anæmic recollection of the past.--[1]
15
The attitude of the philologist towards antiquity is apologetic, or else
dictated by the view that what our own age values can likewise be
found in antiquity. The right attitude to take up, however, is the reverse
one, viz., to start with an insight into our modern topsyturviness, and to
look back from antiquity to it--and many things about antiquity which
have hitherto displeased us will then be seen to have been most
profound necessities.
We must make it clear to ourselves that we are acting in an absurd
manner when we try to defend or to beautify antiquity: who are we!
16
We are under a false impression when we say that there is always some
caste which governs a nation's culture, and that therefore savants are
necessary; for savants only possess knowledge concerning culture (and
even this only in exceptional cases). Among learned men themselves
there might be a few, certainly not a caste, but even these would indeed
be rare.

17
One very great value of antiquity consists in the fact that its writings
are the only ones which modern men still read carefully.
Overstraining of the memory--very common among philologists,
together with a poor development of the judgment.
18
Busying ourselves with the culture-epochs of the past: is this gratitude?
We should look backwards in order to explain to ourselves the present
conditions of culture: we do not become too laudatory in regard to our
own circumstances, but perhaps we should do so in order that we may
not be too severe on ourselves.
19
He who has no sense for the symbolical has none for antiquity: let
pedantic philologists bear this in mind.
20
My aim is to bring about a state of complete enmity between our
present "culture" and antiquity. Whoever wishes to serve the former
must hate the latter.
21
Careful meditation upon the past leads to the impression that we are a
multiplication of many pasts · so how can we be a final aim? But why
not? In most instances, however, we do not wish to be this. We take up
our positions again in the ranks, work in our own little corner, and hope
that what we do may be of some small profit to our successors. But that
is exactly the case of the cask of the Danæ · and this is useless, we must
again set about doing everything for ourselves, and only for
ourselves--measuring science by ourselves, for example with the