Hence intercourse with others involves a process of leveling down.  The qualities which are present in one man, and absent in another, cannot come into play when they meet; and the self-sacrifice which this entails upon one of the parties, calls forth no recognition from the other.

Consider how sordid, how stupid, in a word, how vulgar most men are, and you will see that it is impossible to talk to them without becoming vulgar yourself for the time being.  Vulgarity is in this respect like electricity; it is easily distributed.  You will then fully appreciate the truth and propriety of the expression, to make yourself cheap; and you will be glad to avoid the society of people whose only possible point of contact with you is just that part of your nature of which you have least reason to be proud.  So you will see that, in dealing with fools and blockheads, there is only one way of showing your intelligence—­by having nothing to do with them.  That means, of course, that when you go into society, you may now and then feel like a good dancer who gets an invitation to a ball, and on arriving, finds that everyone is lame:—­with whom is he to dance?

SECTION 24.  I feel respect for the man—­and he is one in a hundred—­who, when he is waiting or sitting unoccupied, refrains from rattling or beating time with anything that happens to be handy,—­his stick, or knife and fork, or whatever else it may be.  The probability is that he is thinking of something.

With a large number of people, it is quite evident that their power of sight completely dominates over their power of thought; they seem to be conscious of existence only when they are making a noise; unless indeed they happen to be smoking, for this serves a similar end.  It is for the same reason that they never fail to be all eyes and ears for what is going on around them.

SECTION 25.  La Rochefoucauld makes the striking remark that it is difficult to feel deep veneration and great affection for one and the same person.  If this is so, we shall have to choose whether it is veneration or love that we want from our fellow-men.

Their love is always selfish, though in very different ways; and the means used to gain it are not always of a kind to make us proud.  A man is loved by others mainly in the degree in which he moderates his claim on their good feeling and intelligence:  but he must act genuinely in the matter and without dissimulation—­not merely out of forbearance, which is at bottom a kind of 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.]