to know himself: he
finds himself miserable, despises himself, and is pleased to find
something worthy of respect outside himself. Therefore he gets rid of
himself, so to speak, makes himself subservient to a cause, does his
duty strictly, and atones for his existence. He knows that he does not
work for himself alone; he wishes to help those who are daring enough to
exist on account of themselves, like Socrates. The majority of men are
as it were suspended in the air like toy balloons; every breath of wind
moves them.--As a consequence the savant must be such out of
self-knowledge, that is to say, out of contempt for himself--in other
words he must recognise himself to be merely the servant of some higher
being who comes after him. Otherwise he is simply a sheep.

22

It is the duty of the free man to live for his own sake, and not for
others. It was on this account that the Greeks looked upon handicrafts
as unseemly.

As a complete entity Greek antiquity has not yet been fully valued . I
am convinced that if it had not been surrounded by its traditional
glorification, the men of the present day would shrink from it horror
stricken. This glorification, then, is spurious; gold-paper.

23

The false enthusiasm for antiquity in which many philologists live. When
antiquity suddenly comes upon us in our youth, it appears to us to be
composed of innumerable trivialities; in particular we believe ourselves
to be above its ethics. And Homer and Walter Scott--who carries off the
palm? Let us be honest! If this enthusiasm were really felt, people
could scarcely seek their life's calling in it. I mean that what we can
obtain from the Greeks only begins to dawn upon us in later years: only
after we have undergone many experiences, and thought a great deal.

24

People in general think that philology is at an end--while I believe
that it has not yet begun.

The greatest events in philology are the appearance of Goethe,
Schopenhauer, and Wagner; standing on their shoulders we look far into
the distance. The fifth and sixth centuries have still to be discovered.

25

Where do we see the effect of antiquity? Not in language, not in the
imitation of something or other, and not in perversity and waywardness,
to which uses the French have turned it. Our museums are gradually
becoming filled up: I always experience a sensation of disgust when I
see naked statues in the Greek style in the presence of this thoughtless
p