Thou runnest _ahead?_—Dost thou do so as a shepherd or as an exception? A third alternative would be the fugitive.... First question of conscience. 38 Art thou genuine or art thou only an actor? Art thou a representative or the thing represented, itself? Finally, art thou perhaps simply a copy of an actor? ... Second question of conscience. 39 _The disappointed man speaks:_—I sought for great men, but all I found were the apes of their ideal. 40 Art thou one who looks on, or one who puts his own shoulder to the wheel?—Or art thou one who looks away, or who turns aside?... Third question of conscience. 41 Wilt thou go in company, or lead, or go by thyself?... A man should know what he desires, and that he desires something.—Fourth question of conscience. 42 They were but rungs in my ladder, on them I made my ascent:—to that end I had to go beyond them. But they imagined that I wanted to lay myself to rest upon them. 43 What matters it whether I am acknowledged to be right! I am much too right. And he who laughs best to-day, will also laugh last. 44 The formula of my happiness: a Yea, a Nay, a straight line, _goal...._ [1] This is a reference to Seume’s poem “_Die Gesänge_,” the first verse of which is:— _“Wo man singet, lass dich ruhig nieder,_ _Ohne Furcht, was man im Lande glaubt_; _Wo man singet, wird kein Mensch beraubt_: _Bösewichter haben keine Lieder_.” (Wherever people sing thou canst safely settle down without a qualm as to what the general faith of the land may be Wherever people sing, no man is ever robbed; _rascals_ have no songs.) Popular tradition, however, renders the lines thus:— _“Wo man singt, da lass dich ruhig nieder;_ _Base Menschen_ [evil men] _haben keine Lieder.”_ THE PROBLEM OF SOCRATES 1 In all ages the wisest have always agreed in their judgment of life: _it is no good._ At all times and places the same words have been on their lips,—words full of doubt, full of melancholy, full of weariness of life, full of hostility to life. Even Socrates’ dying words were:—“To live—means to be ill a long while: I owe a cock to the god Æsculapius.” Even Socrates had had enough of it. What does that prove? What does it point to? Formerly people would have said (—oh, it has been said, and loudly enough too; by our Pessimists loudest of all!): “In any case there must be some truth in this! The _consensus sapientium_ is a proof of truth.”—Shall we say the same to-day? _May_ we do so? “In any case there must be some sickness here,” we make reply. These great sages of all periods should first be examined more closely! Is it possible that they were, everyone of them, a little shaky on their legs, effete, rocky, decadent? Does wisdom perhaps appear on earth after the manner of a crow attracted by a slight smell of carrion? 2