195.

NATURE AND SCIENCE.-As in nature, so in science the worse and less fertile soils are first cultivated-because the means that science in its early stages has at command are fairly sufficient for this purpose. The working of the most fertile soils requires an enormous, carefully developed, persevering method, tangible individual results, and an organised body of well-trained workers. All these are found together only at a late stage.-Impatience and ambition often grasp too early at these most fertile soils, but the results are then from the first null and void. In nature such losses would usually be avenged by the starvation of the settlers.

196.

THE SIMPLE LIFE.-A simple mode of life is nowadays difficult, requiring as it does far more reflection and gift for invention than even very clever people possess. The most honourable will perhaps still say, "I have not the time for such lengthy reflection. The simple life is for me too lofty a goal: I will wait till those wiser than I have discovered it."

197.

PEAKS AND NEEDLE-POINTS.-The poor fertility, the frequent celibacy, and in general the s.e.xual coldness of the highest and most cultivated spirits, as that of the cla.s.ses to which they belong, is essential in human economy.

Intelligence recognises and makes use of the fact that at an acme of intellectual development the danger of a neurotic offspring is very great.

Such men are the peaks of mankind-they ought no longer to run out into needle-points.

198.

_NATURA NON FACIT SALTUM._-However strongly man may develop upwards and seem to leap from one contradiction to another, a close observation will reveal the dovetails where the new building grows out of the old. This is the biographer's task: he must reflect upon his subject on the principle that nature takes no jumps.

199.

CLEAN, BUT-He who clothes himself with rags washed clean dresses cleanly, to be sure, but is still ragged.

200.

THE SOLITARY SPEAKS.-In compensation for much disgust, disheartenment, boredom-such as a lonely life without friends, books, duties, and pa.s.sions must involve-we enjoy those short spans of deep communion with ourselves and with Nature. He who fortifies himself completely against boredom fortifies himself against himself too. He will never drink the most powerful elixir from his own innermost spring.

201.

FALSE RENOWN.-I hate those so-called natural beauties which really have significance only through science, especially geographical science, but are insignificant in an aesthetic sense: for example, the view of Mont Blanc from Geneva. This is an insignificant thing without the auxiliary mental joy of science: the nearer mountains are all more beautiful and fuller of expression, but "not nearly so high," adds that absurd depreciatory science. The eye here contradicts science: how can it truly rejoice in the contradiction?

202.

THOSE THAT TRAVEL FOR PLEASURE.-Like animals, stupid and perspiring, they climb mountains: people forgot to tell them that there were fine views on the way.

203.

TOO MUCH AND TOO LITTLE.-Men nowadays live too much and think too little.

They have hunger and dyspepsia together, and become thinner and thinner, however much they eat. He who now says "Nothing has happened to me" is a blockhead.

204.

END AND GOAL.-Not every end is the goal. The end of a melody is not its goal, and yet if a melody has not reached its end, it has also not reached its goal. A parable.

205.

NEUTRALITY OF NATURE ON A GRAND SCALE.-The neutrality of Nature on a grand scale (in mountain, sea, forest, and desert) is pleasing, but only for a brief s.p.a.ce. Afterwards we become impatient. "Have they all nothing to say to _us_? Do _we_ not exist so far as they are concerned?" There arises a feeling that a _lese-majeste_ is committed against humanity.

206.

FORGETTING OUR PURPOSE.-In a journey we commonly forget its goal. Almost every vocation is chosen and entered upon as means to an end, but is continued as the ultimate end. Forgetting our purpose is the most frequent form of folly.