24. XXIV. IN THE HAPPY ISLES.
The figs fall from the trees, they are good and sweet; and in falling the
red skins of them break. A north wind am I to ripe figs.
Thus, like figs, do these doctrines fall for you, my friends: imbibe now
their juice and their sweet substance! It is autumn all around, and clear
sky, and afternoon.
Lo, what fullness is around us! And out of the midst of superabundance, it
is delightful to look out upon distant seas.
Once did people say God, when they looked out upon distant seas; now,
however, have I taught you to say, Superman.
God is a conjecture: but I do not wish your conjecturing to reach beyond
your creating will.
Could ye CREATE a God?--Then, I pray you, be silent about all Gods! But ye
could well create the Superman.
Not perhaps ye yourselves, my brethren! But into fathers and forefathers
of the Superman could ye transform yourselves: and let that be your best
God is a conjecture: but I should like your conjecturing restricted to the
Could ye CONCEIVE a God?--But let this mean Will to Truth unto you, that
everything be transformed into the humanly conceivable, the humanly
visible, the humanly sensible! Your own discernment shall ye follow out to
And what ye have called the world shall but be created by you: your
reason, your likeness, your will, your love, shall it itself become! And
verily, for your bliss, ye discerning ones!
And how would ye endure life without that hope, ye discerning ones?
Neither in the inconceivable could ye have been born, nor in the
But that I may reveal my heart entirely unto you, my friends: IF there
were gods, how could I endure it to be no God! THEREFORE there are no
Yea, I have drawn the conclusion; now, however, doth it draw me.--