curse or to bless, but perhaps say at last: “Well, well! That is neither I nor not-I, but a third thing—it seems to me, too, something right, if not just _the_ right thing. But you must know yourselves what to do, as in any case it is you who have to listen. As our Schiller says, ‘the living man is right.’ So have it your own way, and let me go down again.” 127. AGAINST THE DISPARAGERS OF BREVITY.—A brief dictum may be the fruit and harvest of long reflection. The reader, however, who is a novice in this field and has never considered the case in point, sees something embryonic in all brief dicta, not without a reproachful hint to the author, requesting him not to serve up such raw and ill-prepared food. 128. AGAINST THE SHORT-SIGHTED.—Do you think it is piece-work because it is (and must be) offered you in pieces? 129. READERS OF APHORISMS.—The worst readers of aphorisms are the friends of the author, if they make a point of referring the general to the particular instance to which the aphorism owes its origin. This namby-pamby attitude brings all the author’s trouble to naught, and instead of a philosophic lesson and a philosophic frame of mind, they deservedly gain nothing but the satisfaction of a vulgar curiosity. 130. READERS’ INSULTS.—The reader offers a two-fold insult to the author by praising his second book at the expense of his first (or _vice versa_) and by expecting the author to be grateful to him on that account. 131. THE EXCITING ELEMENT IN THE HISTORY OF ART.—We fall into a state of terrible tension when we follow the history of an art—as, for example, that of Greek oratory—and, passing from master to master, observe their increasing precautions to obey the old and the new laws and all these self-imposed limitations. We see that the bow _must_ snap, and that the so-called “loose” composition, with the wonderful means of expression smothered and concealed (in this particular case the florid style of Asianism), was once necessary and almost _beneficial_. 132. TO THE GREAT IN ART.—That enthusiasm for some object which you, O great man, introduce into this world causes the intelligence of the many to be stunted. The knowledge of this fact spells humiliation. But the enthusiast wears his hump with pride and pleasure, and you have the consolation of feeling that you have increased the world’s happiness. 133. CONSCIENCELESS ÆSTHETES.—The real fanatics of an artistic school are perhaps those utterly inartistic natures that are not even grounded in the elements of artistic study and creation, but are impressed with the strongest of all the elementary influences of an art. For them there is no æsthetic conscience—hence nothing to hold them back from fanaticism. 134.