contempt. This calls to mind
a very true observation of Helvetius[1]: _the amount of intellect
necessary to please us, is a most accurate measure of the amount of
intellect we have ourselves_. With these remarks as premises, it is
easy to draw the conclusion.

[Footnote 1: _Translator's Note_. Helvetius, Claude-Adrien (1715-71),
a French philosophical writer much esteemed by Schopenhauer. His chief
work, _De l'Esprit_, excited great interest and opposition at the
time of its publication, on account of the author's pronounced
materialism.]

Now with veneration the case is just the opposite; it is wrung from
men reluctantly, and for that very reason mostly concealed. Hence, as
compared with love, veneration gives more real satisfaction; for it is
connected with personal value, and the same is not directly true
of love, which is subjective in its nature, whilst veneration is
objective. To be sure, it is more useful to be loved than to be
venerated.

SECTION 26. Most men are so thoroughly subjective that nothing really
interests them but themselves. They always think of their own case
as soon as ever any remark is made, and their whole attention is
engrossed and absorbed by the merest chance reference to anything
which affects them personally, be it never so remote: with the result
that they have no power left for forming an objective view of things,
should the conversation take that turn; neither can they admit any
validity in arguments which tell against their interest or their
vanity. Hence their attention is easily distracted. They are so
readily offended, insulted or annoyed, that in discussing any
impersonal matter with them, no care is too great to avoid letting
your remarks bear the slightest possible reference to the very worthy
and sensitive individuals whom you have before you; for anything you
may say will perhaps hurt their feelings. People really care about
nothing that does not affect them personally. True and striking
observations, fine, subtle and witty things are lost upon them: they
cannot understand or feel them. But anything that disturbs their petty
vanity in the most remote and indirect way, or reflects prejudicially
upon their exceedingly precious selves--to that, they are most
tenderly sensitive. In this respect they are like the little dog whose
toes you are so apt to tread upon inadvertently--you know it by the
shrill bark it sets up: or, again, they resemble a sick man covered
with sores an