there honoured—­he would fain persuade himself that the very happiness there is not genuine.  On the other hand, those qualities which serve to alleviate the existence of sufferers are brought into prominence and flooded with light; it is here that sympathy, the kind, helping hand, the warm heart, patience, diligence, humility, and friendliness attain to honour; for here these are the most useful qualities, and almost the only means of supporting the burden of existence.  Slave-morality is essentially the morality of utility.  Here is the seat of the origin of the famous antithesis “good” and “evil":—­power and dangerousness are assumed to reside in the evil, a certain dreadfulness, subtlety, and strength, which do not admit of being despised.  According to slave-morality, therefore, the “evil” man arouses fear; according to master-morality, it is precisely the “good” man who arouses fear and seeks to arouse it, while the bad man is regarded as the despicable being.  The contrast attains its maximum when, in accordance with the logical consequences of slave-morality, a shade of depreciation—­it may be slight and well-intentioned—­at last attaches itself to the “good” man of this morality; because, according to the servile mode of thought, the good man must in any case be the safe man:  he is good-natured, easily deceived, perhaps a little stupid, un bonhomme.  Everywhere that slave-morality gains the ascendancy, language shows a tendency to approximate the significations of the words “good” and “stupid."- -A last fundamental difference:  the desire for freedom, the instinct for happiness and the refinements of the feeling of liberty belong as necessarily to slave-morals and morality, as artifice and enthusiasm in reverence and devotion are the regular symptoms of an aristocratic mode of thinking and estimating.—­ Hence we can understand without further detail why love as A passion—­it is our European specialty—­must absolutely be of noble origin; as is well known, its invention is due to the Provencal poet-cavaliers, those brilliant, ingenious men of the “gai saber,” to whom Europe owes so much, and almost owes itself.

261.  Vanity is one of the things which are perhaps most difficult for a noble man to understand:  he will be tempted to deny it, where another kind of man thinks he sees it self-evidently.  The problem for him is to represent to his mind beings who seek to arouse a good opinion of themselves which they themselves do not possess—­and consequently also do not “deserve,”—­and who yet believe in this good opinion afterwards.  This seems to him on the one hand such bad taste and so self-disrespectful, and on the other hand so grotesquely unreasonable, that he would like to consider vanity an exception, and is doubtful about it in most cases when it is spoken of.  He will say, for instance:  “I may be mistaken about my value, and on the other hand may nevertheless demand that my value should