The Wisdom of Life

by Arthur Schopenhauer

Division of the Subject

Aristotle divides the blessings of life into three classes–those which come to us from without, those of the soul, and those of the body.

Keeping nothing of this division but the number, I observe that the fundamental differences in human lot may be reduced to three distinct classes:

(1) What a ...

(2) What a man has:

(3) How a man stands in the estimation of others:

The differences which come under the first head are those which Nature herself has set between man and man;

they influence the happiness or unhappiness of mankind in a much more vital and radical way than those contained under the two following heads,

The same thing was said long ago by Metrodorus, the earliest disciple of Epicurus, who wrote as the title of one of his chapters, The happiness we receive from ourselves is greater than that which we obtain from our surroundings

the principal element in a man’s well-being,–indeed, in the whole tenor of his existence,–is what he is made of, his inner constitution.

this is the immediate source of that inward satisfaction or dissatisfaction resulting from the sum total of his sensations, desires and thoughts; whilst his surroundings, on the other hand, ...

even with perfectly similar surroundings every one lives in ...

every event, in order to be realized and appreciated, requires the co-operation of two factors, namely, a subject and an object,

In plain language, every man is pent up within the limits of his own consciousness, and cannot directly get beyond those limits any more than he can get beyond his own skin; so external aid is not of much use to him.

Differences of rank and wealth give every man his part to play, but this by no means implies a difference of inward happiness and pleasure; here, too, there is the same being in all–a poor mortal, with his hardships and troubles.

Since everything which exists or happens for a man exists only in his consciousness and happens for it alone, the most essential thing for a man is the constitution of this consciousness, which is in most cases far more important than the circumstances which go to form its contents.

So it is with man; the measure of the happiness he can attain is determined beforehand by his individuality.

the highest, most varied and lasting pleasures are those of the mind, however much our youth may deceive us on this point; and the pleasures of the mind turn chiefly on the powers of the mind.

An intellectual man in complete solitude has excellent entertainment in his own thoughts and fancies, while no amount of diversity or social pleasure, theatres, excursions and amusements, can ward off boredom from a dullard.

A good, temperate, gentle character can be happy in needy circumstances, whilst a covetous, envious and malicious man, even if he be the richest in the world, goes miserable.

most of the pleasures which are run after by mankind are simply superfluous; they are even a trouble and a burden.

and when Socrates saw various articles of luxury spread out for sale, he exclaimed: How much there is in the world I do not want.

Even more miserable will be the lot of the man with intellectual powers of a very high order, who has to leave them undeveloped and unemployed, in the pursuit of a calling which does not require them, some bodily labor, perhaps, for which his strength is insufficient.

Since the blessings described under the first head decidedly outweigh those contained under the other two, it is manifestly a wiser course to aim at the maintenance of our health and the cultivation of our faculties, than at the amassing of wealth; but this must not be mistaken as meaning that we should neglect to acquire an adequate supply of the necessaries of life.

still men are a thousand times more intent on becoming rich than on acquiring culture, though it is quite certain that what a man is contributes much more to his happiness than what he has.

So you may see many a man, as industrious as an ant, ceaselessly occupied from morning to night in the endeavor to increase his heap of gold.

The highest pleasures, those of the intellect, are to him inaccessible, and he tries in vain to replace them by the fleeting pleasures of sense in which he indulges, lasting but a brief hour and at tremendous cost.

in the end one who is inwardly poor comes to be also poor outwardly.

Personality, or What a Man is

When we use that English expression, “to enjoy one’s self,” we are employing a very striking and appropriate phrase; for observe–one says, not “he enjoys Paris,” but “he enjoys himself in Paris.”

Further, the constitution of our consciousness is the ever present and lasting element in all we do or suffer; our individuality is persistently at work, more or less, at every moment of our life: all other influences are temporal, incidental, fleeting, and subject to every kind of chance and change. This is why Aristotle says: It is not wealth but character that lasts.

The man who is cheerful and merry has always a good reason for being so,–the fact, namely, that he is so.

So if cheerfulness knocks at our door, we should throw it wide open, for it never comes inopportunely; instead of that, we often make scruples about letting it in.

We want to be quite sure that we have every reason to be contented; then we are afraid that cheerfulness of spirits may interfere with serious reflections or weighty cares.

To secure and promote this feeling of cheerfulness should be the supreme aim of all our endeavors after happiness.

it is certain that nothing contributes so little to cheerfulness as riches, or so much, as health.

we should try as much as possible to maintain a high degree of health; for cheerfulness is the very flower of it. I need hardly say what one must do to be healthy–avoid every kind of excess, all violent and unpleasant emotion, all mental overstrain, take daily exercise in the open air, cold baths and such like hygienic measures.

as Aristotle rightly says, Life is movement; it is its very essence.

As Epictetus says, Men are not influenced by things, but by their thoughts about things.

in general, nine-tenths of our happiness depends upon health alone.

A genius is one whose nervous power or sensitiveness is largely in excess; as Aristotle has very correctly observed, Men distinguished in philosophy, politics, poetry or art appear to be all of a melancholy temperament.

Shakespeare has very neatly expressed this radical and innate diversity of temperament in those lines in The Merchant of Venice:

This is the difference which Plato draws between [Greek: eukolos] and [Greek: dyskolos]–the man of easy, and the man of difficult disposition–in proof of which he refers to the varying degrees of susceptibility which different people show to pleasurable and painful impressions; so that one man will laugh at what makes another despair.

But here is another instance of the truth, that hardly any evil is entirely without its compensation; for the misfortunes and sufferings which the [Greek: auskoloi], that is, people of gloomy and anxious character, have to overcome, are, on the whole, more imaginary and therefore less real than those which befall the gay and careless; for a man who paints everything black, who constantly fears the worst and takes measures accordingly, will not be disappointed so often in this world, as one who always looks upon the bright side of things.

Beauty is an open letter of recommendation, predisposing the heart to favor the person who presents it. As is well said in these lines of Homer, the gift of beauty is not lightly to be thrown away, that glorious gift which none can bestow save the gods alone–[Greek:

A dull mind is, as a rule, associated with dull sensibilities, nerves which no stimulus can affect, a temperament, in short, which does not feel pain or anxiety very much, however great or terrible it may be.

Now, intellectual dullness is at the bottom of that vacuity of soul which is stamped on so many faces, a state of mind which betrays itself by a constant and lively attention to all the trivial circumstances in the external world. This is the true source of boredom–a continual panting after excitement, in order to have a pretext for giving the mind and spirits something to occupy them.

Nothing is so good a protection against such misery as inward wealth, the wealth of the mind, because the greater it grows, the less room it leaves for boredom.

But, on the other hand, this high degree of intelligence is rooted in a high degree of susceptibility, greater strength of will, greater passionateness; and from the union of these qualities comes an increased capacity for emotion, an enhanced sensibility to all mental and even bodily pain, greater impatience of obstacles, greater resentment of interruption;–all of which tendencies are augmented by the power of the imagination, the vivid character of the whole range of thought, including what is disagreeable.

The wise man will, above all, strive after freedom from pain and annoyance, quiet and leisure, consequently a tranquil, modest life, with as few encounters as may be; and so, after a little experience of his so-called fellowmen, he will elect to live in retirement, or even, if he is a man of great intellect, in solitude. For the more a man has in himself, the less he will want from other people,–the less, indeed, other people can be to him. This is why a high degree of intellect tends to make a man unsocial.