Stages on Life’s Way

by Søren Kierkegaard

  One could go mad trying to extort something definite out of an impression like that, and yet that is what I want to do. 304If one hears the strokes of the church clock and counts them, it does not necessarily mean that one knows what time it is, for the transmission of sound in relation to the distance in space can result in one’s hearing only the last strokes and then making a mistake if one begins to count.

  She even looked vigorous, somewhat pale, but I never dare attach much importance to this paleness, for it may be caused by the sight of me. But I do dare to rejoice over vigor, or could it be an illusion that it was the fresh air that had given her the appearance of health. What is a hasty physician able to say! I really am not a hasty physician, for I am not the one who hurries through the patient’s room; it is the patient who is rushing so fast past me; and I am not a physician, either, but rather a patient myself.

  May 15. Morning.

  A year ago today. I have frequently laughed at the story of an engaged man who kept another suit coat at his fiancee’s to put on in order not to wear out the new one. Now I do not laugh at it; I, too, have a second coat, not at her house, of course, but outside in the passageway. There I put it on and renounce every expression of my love, every hint of my sympathy, every tempting little wish which, if our relationship were secure, would crave to gladden her with trifles. As soon as the coat is on, then begins the everlasting weaving of nonsense, jumbling together the physical and the moral, driveling it all together, continually prating about our being in love, and our being in love, and all that.

  It is an agonizing self-punishment, as agonizing as the scene [VI 315] in Tartarus:305 to have to sit that way and make faces at myself. But so it must be. Through this approach I hope that our whole relationship, when the moment to sever it comes again, will have no appeal whatsoever for her, not even the temptation of terror, but that she will loathe it, be fed up with it, and be nauseated just as someone is sick of oranges who has eaten them along with taking a medicine. If all on her own she is able later to idealize the relationship, then she is quite another individuality than I believed her to be and is far from needing me.

  May 16. Midnight.

  As I said before, the whole thing will probably go off quietly. Yesterday and the day before I spoke with my friend, who is well informed, and who also with true friendship has tortured me, even though at the same time he rendered me a service, with all sorts of pieces of information under fictitious names. He went on with the stories and his fictitious names. And his friendship is unaltered. At first he wanted to alarm me with the peril to life. Now his pipe has another tune; he is out to arouse me, if possible, by stirring up a little jealousy in me—but in that case she must be in rather good health. The benefit I have from this man is incalculable. He is the one I am going to use now; the comedy began today. When he was in the middle of his story, I stood up, embraced him warmly, and said with emotion, “Now I understand you! Oh, what a fool I was not to have seen in you a friend! Do not deny it—you are talking about her, alas, about her whom I have made unhappy and whom I still have loved and to whom I have wished many a time to return but cannot. No, I cannot do it; to be honest, my pride has too much power over me.” My friend was rather dumbfounded; indeed, it must be rather awkward to be sitting amicably and with simple Christian malice trying to torment someone and then to be enfolded in the embrace of friendship. It is as if a robber meeting a traveler on a solitary road and on the point of assaulting his victim felt himself tenderly embraced and heard these touching words: O sweet fate, to send me a guide, to me who am lost, and you, my kind benefactor, mankind’s precious representative in these desolate places, etc. It would certainly be possible for the robber to be reduced to embarrassment. At least my friend was. I am well aware that occasionally she must make inquiries about me. I do not know this from him, but I know it because there is someone else who has been very quick to [VI 316] gather something from me to run with, and my friend is much closer to her.

  In a way, he now became my friend. Of course, I do not trust him an inch. But it is grist for his mill that he thinks he has me in his power and that I am still so concerned about her that he can have his fun in torturing me. At first, I wanted with his help to initiate a correspondence with her. I very urgently assured him that I dared not see her and therefore had to write. That I have seen her, no one knows, and she would scarcely ever dream of telling it. This plan, however, was rejected. Then he promised to get into her hands some letters I am writing to a third man. For safety’s sake I have used three kinds of ink so that there can be a little difference in the color, inasmuch as the dates differ.

  So, with united efforts, it is now going well. He has nothing against her falling in love again, because he believes it will prod me, and he perceives that I may even be of some help along this line.

  An author, I do not remember who, has said that honesty is the best policy, only not when it comes to pleasing women. I, too, really do believe that truth does not make a woman happy, nor do lies, either, far from it, but just a little dose of untruth.

  The schemed jealousy is hardly my concern. Non enim est in carendo difficultas, nisi quum est in habendo cupiditas [For there is no difficulty in abstaining unless there is lust in enjoying], declares Augustine.306 It is certainly true that I have desired her, indeed, that I do desire her, but that I had no external obstacle shows that there was something higher that binds my desire. That higher something is the idea. Together with it, I desire her, infinitely; without it, I hold to what is higher than both of us. Thus my concern is of a different sort: essentially (for in actuality and on the basis of my chances I may achieve nothing) with these letters I am writing a bill of divorcement that sets infinity between us, and with these letters, I have essentially done my part (truly not my sympathetic desire) to procure some ease in my life, which grieves me.

  [VI 317] May 19. Midnight.

  Presumably she has received my letters now. My conception of the relationship is not devoid of repentance and contrition. This concession grieves me most. With every other deception I was at least blazing with enthusiasm,307 because my reason for it and my motivation in it was the hope that she would concentrate herself in an infinite sense. This time I am dejected, and yet this time I may have an entirely different influence on her than with all my efforts when I was bound to her and my efforts when, by breaking away, I became bound to her even more. My repentance and contrition, of course, run into many words, and the upshot of those many words naturally is that it cannot be undone now. I repent of the past; I wish to undo it, but I cannot—no, I cannot do it, but I want to do so. If only it were not for my pride, I would do it etc. As a rule repentance is identified by one thing, that it acts. In our day, it perhaps is less subject to being misunderstood in this way. I believe that neither Young nor Talleyrand nor a more recent author was right in what they said about language,308 why it exists, for I believe that it exists to strengthen and assist people in abstaining from action. What to me is nonsense will perhaps have a great effect and perhaps most of my acquaintances, if they were to read these letters, would say: “Well, now we have understood him.”

  It is indeed hard; one would certainly prefer to enjoy the general reputation of not being regarded as a loony-bin inmate. That, too, I am achieving. I really do believe that no matter what I say, provided it is not the truth or my most sincere opinion, I would even be regarded as sagacious; by doing the latter I would unconditionally provide grounds for my deportation. If I were to say, “I took that crucial step because I felt bound, because I had to have my freedom, inasmuch as the lustfulness of my desire embraces a world and cannot be satisfied with one girl,” then the chorus would reply, “That makes sense! Good luck, you enlightened man!” But if I were to say, “She was the only one I have loved; if I had not been sure of that when I left her, I would never have dared to leave her,” then the answer would be, “Away to the loony bin with him!” If I were to say, “I was tired of her,” then the chorus would a
nswer, “Now you’re talking! That is [VI 318] understandable!” But if I were to say, “Then I cannot understand it, for one certainly does not dare to break a relationship of duty because one is tired of it,” then they would say, “He is crazy.” If I were to say (in the words of my most recent interpretation), “I repent of it, I would like to undo it, but I cannot do it—no, I cannot do it, my pride does not permit it—no, I cannot do it”—then the verdict would be, “He is just like everyone else and like the heroes in French poetry.” But if I were to declare that nothing, nothing would so satisfy my pride as to dare to undo it, that nothing, nothing would so allay the cold fire of revenge that demands amends, then the response would be: “He is delirious; do not listen to him; away to the loony bin with him.”

  Mundus vult decipi [The world wants to be deceived];309 my relationship to the environment that I must call my world can hardly be more definitely expressed. In fact, I believe that in a wider sense it is the best that has been said about the world. Thus speculators should not cudgel their brains trying to fathom what the times demand, for it has been essentially the same since time immemorial: to be tricked and bamboozled. If one just says something silly and drinks dus with humanity en masse, then one comes to be, like Per Degn, loved and esteemed by the whole congregation.310 It is not any different now, and anyone who with visible signs of deep concern strikes an attitude of brooding in public over how to find out what it is the times demand has already, when all is said and done, discovered it. In this respect, anyone can serve the age, whether it is to be understood as a whole nation, the human race as a whole, all the future generations, or a little circle of contemporaries. I serve the participants by being a scoundrel. There is no doubt that I satisfy their demand. In fact, I myself also benefit from it and in a certain sense find this outside appraisal really desirable.311 To be a model of virtue, a bright normative human being, is, for one thing, very embarrassing—and also very dubious. But, on the other hand, I am not being persecuted, either. This, too, is desirable, lest I should draw wrong conclusions and think well of myself because I am persecuted in the world.

  With regard to people, I have never hesitated to follow my guardian spirit in yielding to a certain elemental modesty about the good and a somewhat gloomy distrust of myself—[VI 319] in other words, to deceive in such a way that I perhaps am always a little better than I seem. I have never been able to understand it in any other way than that every human being is essentially assigned himself and that outside of this either there is an authorization such as an apostle’s, the dialectical nature of which I cannot grasp, although out of respect for what is handed down to me as sacred I refrain from drawing any conclusions from my nonunderstanding—or there is maundering. It is quite true that a person who cannot shave himself can set up shop as a barber and serve others according to their needs, but in the world of spirit this is meaningless.

  It is, however, regarded as part and parcel of earnestness to want to be readily available to exert an influence upon others, yet without necessarily wanting to be an apostle (how humble!)—and yet without being able to determine one’s similarity to and one’s dissimilarity from such a person (how meaningless!). Everyone wants to work for others. This is a rule in the civic address, although it is more understandable there, but it is also a rule in the rhetorical form of the religious address. I do not doubt that it is found in printed sermon outlines, and one hears it ever so often, unless one is listening to an individual who has been personally tested and knows how to speak and knows whereof he speaks.

  If the sermon is about preparing the way of the Lord,312 then the first point is that everyone does his part in spreading Christianity, not just we pastors but also everyone else as well etc. This is indeed fascinating! Not just we pastors. Here at the outset the dialectical middle terms, whether a pastor is an apostle, are lacking, and if not, then how is he different from one and how is he like one? The ecclesiastical points of difference with regard to ordination increase the difficulties, and the principal middle term is pushed back by decisions in the realm of the undecided. So, then, not just we pastors. This passage looks very hopeful at the beginning. But that to which “not just” refers is not given at all, and now follows the apodosis with the earnestness of exhortation: Heed my words, dear listeners, it is not just I and we pastors who should work in this manner, but you also should work in this way! How? Well, that is the only thing that does not become clear in this earnest discourse, the earnestness of which does not lie exactly in the subject matter. Now the first point has been made; the pastor wipes away the sweat, and the listeners do likewise just at the thought that in this way they have become missionaries.

  The speaker begins again. One hopes to receive a little more [VI 320] detailed enlightenment, but look! The next point is that each person prepares the way of the Lord within himself. This, of course, is what ought to be spoken about, and on this point a life-view can be built. One understands that the single individual has essentially with himself to do, that performance is the incidental, which one is not to anticipate and essentially does not dare to attribute to oneself, and which only in the retrospection of eternity will be seen for what it is—essentially God’s extra bonus and incidentally the individual’s work. In other words, life and the Governance in it are something more than a flat sum of all individual human beings’ deeds. Therefore a person must have his absolute idea in mente wherever he goes. If this is lacking, one deceives in two ways: one captivates people in daydreams, and one does an injustice to the one who suffers. Actually, that first point requires prosperity of everyone. It is very easy to talk about things like this, which immature and lazy natures prefer to hear; it is meaningless to require it, for prosperity is not freedom’s extra bonus, but Governance’s, and suppose, then, that one had suffered adversity. But if it is understood that the single individual essentially has with himself to do, then it will also be understood that he exists in such a way that his life, what he says, etc., can possibly have meaning for others; possibly, because first it is the affair of Governance and second it is not the direct influence of example and teaching. Thus a speaker could begin here and turn the first point around somewhat like this, “Although it may seem so, not even I can essentially do more than to attend to myself. Do not let yourself be trapped by an illusion.”313 But the design of the discourse is just the reverse. One appeals to the example of John the Baptizer, but John the Baptizer is not a straightforward paradigm; he is ἀφοϱισηέυος [set apart]314 in the exceptional, and consequently middle terms are required. Moreover, one must always be circumspect in using world-historical characters. 315That is, they have a completion that makes the observation sure—and also the misunderstanding. Every character that is to be used must come into existence for thought, clear in its dialectical structure; otherwise it is only a jest to offer him as a paradigm.

  Since I myself am an existing person and consequently must use ethically what is said, I have pondered this very much. When one chooses differently, chooses to instruct or to listen, but leaves out the crises of realization, then it is easy to have much to say, much advice to give, and easy to find peace of [VI 321] mind. Through what I have thought about this, I have reached the conclusion that I benefit a person most by deceiving him. The highest truth with respect to my relation to him is this: essentially I can be of no benefit to him (this is the expression for the most profoundly optative sympathetic pain, which one can keep from experiencing only through giddiness, but also for the highest enthusiasm in the equality of all), and the most adequate form for this truth is that I deceive him, for otherwise it would be possible for him to make a mistake and learn the truth from me and thereby be deceived, namely, that he would believe that he had learned it from me. I am well aware that the majority of those I would initiate into my skeptical line of thought would smile at me and censure my frivolousness, for the captivating—that was the earnestness. This cannot disturb me without making me guilty of an inconsistency, and this cannot b
e, since I do not wish to confide in anyone lest I myself make a mistake and think I should go out and proclaim this closehandedness instead of staying close to myself. Let every human being be closehanded; then God will be the only openhanded one.

  This I have learned best and also most grievously in my relationship with her, in which the optative sympathy continually has wanted to make an exception, in which I have wished to the point of despair to be able to be everything to her, until in pain I learned that it is infinitely higher to be nothing at all to her. It consoles me that in my relationship with her I have never fancied myself to be a teacher or felt called upon to say a few admonitory words. Even if the wisest of persons spent six hours a day on someone, even if he spent six other hours considering how best to do it, if he continued in this for six years, he would be a deceiver if he dared to say that he had benefited him essentially. And for me, at least, this thought is the deepest fount of inspiration. A person can teach language, the arts, manual skills, etc., to another, but ethically-religiously one cannot essentially benefit another. And this is why it is beautiful and inspiring to express this in the utmost exertion of the deception, because a deception under ethical responsibility is no easy matter and can always cope with the admonitory words. Now after what happened later, it consoles me that she does not have a learner’s relation to me, which could be disturbing. What I have spoken I have spoken as if it were to myself, and I have made neither gesticulations [VI 322] nor applications. If she appropriates it, she does it on her own, not depending on “his word and gown.”316 It is quite easy to jump on an omnibus and ride around and say a few admonitory words; there may also be something beautiful in wanting to do it, but it is stupid to be able to teach that a person is capable of nothing whatsoever and then to be able to ascribe such enormous influence to a few admonitory words. Wonder’s and admiration’s thanksgiving for the effect belongs to God. For every human being should see to himself in life; in eternity there is time to see what God has brought out of this. And this does not mean the conspicuous influence of particular individuals, but the minutest fraction of influence in connection with the deed of the least important person.