Whereupon Nietzsche thought of the Jehovah of the Old Testament, the God of revenge and thunderbolts; he recalled the sentiment: "Ye shall chase your enemies and they shall fall fall before you by the sword," and he wondered how this had come to mean "love your enemies," in the New Testament. Had another type of men perhaps made themselves God's mouthpiece? Yes, that must be so; for, in their holy book, he came across this passage, ascribed to one of their greatest saints: "Hath not God made foolish the wisdom of this world? "For after that in the wisdom of God the world by wisdom knew God, it pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe. "... Not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble _are called_: "But God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise: and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty: "And base things of the world, and things which are despised, hath God chosen, yea and things which are not, to bring to nought things that are."[8] Here, Nietzsche tells us, he began to hold his nose; but he still listened; for there was yet more to be heard. From the smiles that were breaking over the lips of those who read the above words, he gathered that they must have overcome their unhappiness. Yes, indeed, they had. But what did they call it? This was important--even the Christian view of unhappiness seemed significant to Nietzsche in this inquiry. Their unhappiness, their wretchedness, they called a trial, a gift, a distinction! Not really? Yes indeed! As Nietzsche points out: "They are wretched, no doubt, all these mumblers and underground forgers, though warmly seated together. But they tell us their wretchedness is a selection and distinction from God, that the dogs which are loved most are whipped, that their misery may perhaps also be a preparation, a trial, a schooling; perhaps even more--something which at some time to come will be refuted and paid back with immense interest in gold. No! in happiness. This they call 'blessedness.'"[9] At this point Nietzsche declares that he could stand it no longer. "Enough, enough! Bad air! Bad air!" he cried. "Methinks this workshop of virtue positively reeks." He had now realised in whose company he had been all this time.