On the whole, we should
consider this as right and proper, although it
may result in insecurity for the coming century
and compel every one to bear arms.
consider this as right and proper, although it
may result in insecurity for the coming century
and compel every one to bear arms.
Nietzsche - v09 - The Dawn of Day
It is the semi-savage
stage of morality: never let us be tempted to set it
on a higher plane merely on account of its aesthetic
charms.
142.
SYMPATHY. —In order to understand our neigh-
bour, that is, in order to reproduce his sentiments in
ourselves, we often, no doubt, plumb the cause of his
feelings, as, for example, by asking ourselves, Why
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THE DAWN OF DAY. 151
is he sad? in order that we may become sad our
selves for the same reason. But we much more
frequently neglect to act thus, and we produce these
feelings in ourselves in accordance with the effects
which they exhibit in the person we are studying,
—by imitating in our own body the expression of
his eyes, his voice, his gait, his attitude (or, at any
rate, the likeness of these things in words, pictures,
and music), or we may at least endeavour to mimic
the action of his muscles and nervous system. A
like feeling will then spring up in us as the result
of an old association of movements and sentiments
which has been trained to run backwards and for-
wards. We have developed to a very high pitch this
knack of sounding the feelings of others, and when
we are in the presence of any one else we bring this
faculty of ours into play almost involuntarily,—let
the inquirer observe the animation of a woman's
countenance and notice how it vibrates and quivers
with animation as the result of the continual imita-
tion and reflection of what is going on around her.
It is music, however, more than anything else
that shows us what past-masters we are in the rapid
and subtle divination of feelings and sympathy;
for even if music is only the imitation of an imita-
tion of feelings, nevertheless, despite its distance
and vagueness, it often enables us to participate in
those feelings, so that we become sad without any
reason for feeling so, like the fools that we are,
merely because we hear certain sounds and rhythms
that somehow or other remind us of the intonation
and the movements, or perhaps even only of the
behaviour, of sorrowful people. It is related of a
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152 THE DAWN OF DAY.
certain Danish king that he was wrought up to such
a pitch of warlike enthusiasm by the song of a
minstrel that he sprang to his feet and killed five
persons of his assembled court: there was neither
war nor enemy; there was rather the exact opposite;
yet the power of the retrospective inference from a
feeling to the cause of it was sufficiently strong in
this king to overpower both his observation and his
reason. Such,however,is almost invariablythe effect
of music (provided that it thrills us), and we have no
need of such paradoxical instances to recognise this,
—the state of feeling into which music transports
us is almost always in contradiction to the appear-
ance of our actual state, and of our reasoning power
which recognises this actual state and its causes.
If we inquire how it happened that this imitation
of the feelings of others has become so common,
there will be no doubt as to the answer: man being
the most timid of all beings because of his subtle
and delicate nature has been made familiar through
his timidity with this sympathy for, and rapid com-
prehension of, the feelings of others, even of animals.
For century after century he saw danger in every-
thing that was unfamiliar to him, in anything that
happened to be alive, and whenever the spectacle
of such things and creatures came before his eyes
he imitated their features and attitude, drawing at
the same time his own conclusion as to the nature
of the evil intentions they concealed. This interpre-
tation of all movements and all facial characteristics
in the sense of intentions, man has even brought to
bear on things inanimate,—urged on as he was by
the illusion that there was nothing inanimate. I
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THE DAWN OF DAY. 153
believe that this is the origin of everything that we
now call a feeling for nature, that sensation of joy
which men experience at the sight of the sky, the
fields, the rocks, the forests, the storms, the stars,
the landscapes, and spring: without our old habits
of fear which forced us to suspect behind everything
a kind of second and more recondite sense, we should
now experience no delight in nature, in the same
way as men and animals do not cause us to rejoice
if we have not first been deterred by that source of
all understanding, namely, fear. For joy and agree-
able surprise, and finally the feeling of ridicule, are
the younger children of sympathy, and the much
younger brothers and sisters of fear. The faculty
of rapid perception, which is based on the faculty of
rapid dissimulation, decreases in proud and auto-
cratic men and nations, as they are less timid; but,
on the other hand, every category of understanding
and dissimulation is well known to timid peoples,
and among them is to be found the real home of
imitative arts and superior intelligence.
When, proceeding from the theory of sympathy
such as I have just outlined, I turn my attention to
the theory, now so popular and almost sacrosanct,
of a mystical process by means of which pity blends
two beings into one, and thus permits them imme-
diately to understand one another, when I recollect
that even so clear a brain as Schopenhauer's de-
lighted in such fantastic nonsense, and that he in
his turn transplanted this delight into other lucid
and semi-lucid brains, I feel unlimited astonishment
and compassion. How great must be the pleasure
we experience in this senseless tomfoolery! How
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154 THE DAWN OF DAY.
near must even a sane man be to insanity as soon
as he listens to his own secret intellectual desires ! —
Why did Schopenhauer really feel so grateful, so
profoundly indebted to Kant? He revealed on one
occasion the undoubted answer to this question.
Some one had spoken of the way in which the
qualitas occulta of Kant's Categorical Imperative
might be got rid of, so that the theory itself might be
rendered intelligible. Whereupon Schopenhauer
gave utterance to the following outburst: "An intel-
ligible Categorical Imperative! Preposterous idea!
Stygian darkness! God forbid that it should ever
become intelligible! The fact that there is actually
something unintelligible, that this misery of the
understanding and its conceptions is limited, condi-
tional, final, and deceptive,—this is beyond question
Kant's great gift. " Let any one consider whether
a man can be in possession of a desire to gain an
insight into moral things when he feels himself
comforted from the start by a belief in the incon-
ceivableness of these things! one who still honestly
believes in illuminations from above, in magic, in
ghostly appearances, and in the metaphysical ugli-
ness of the toad!
143-
Woe to us if this Impulse should Rage!
—Supposing that the impulse towards devotion
and care for others (" sympathetic affection ") were
doubly as strong as it now is, life on earth could
not be endured. Let it only be considered how
many foolish things every one of us does day by
day and hour by hour, merely out of solicitude and
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THE DAWN OF DAY. 155
devotion for himself, and how unbearable he seems
in doing so: and what then would it be like if we
were to become for other people the object of
the stupidities and importunities with which up to
the present they have only tormented themselves!
Should we not then take precipitately to our heels
as soon as one of our neighbours came towards us?
And would it not be necessary to overwhelm this
sympathetic affection with the abuse that we now
reserve for egoism?
144.
Closing our Ears to the Complaints of
OTHERs. —When we let our sky be clouded by the
complaints and suffering of other mortals, who
must bear the consequences of such gloom? No
doubt those other mortals, in addition to all their
other burdens! If we are merely to be the echoes
of their complaints, we cannot accord them either
help or comfort; nor can we do so if we were
continually keeping our ears open to listen to them,
—unless we have learnt the art of the Olympians,
who, instead of trying to make themselves unhappy,
endeavoured to feel edified by the misfortunes of
mankind. But this is something too Olympian for
us, although, in our enjoyment of tragedy, we have
already taken a step towards this ideal divine can-
nibalism.
145.
"UNEgoISTic. "—This man is empty and wishes
to be filled, that one is over-full and wishes to be
emptied: both of them feel themselves urged on
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156 THE DAWN OF DAY.
to look for an individual who can help them. And
this phenomenon, interpreted in a higher sense, is
in both cases known by the same name, " love. "
Well? and could this love be something unegoistic?
146.
Looking Beyond our Neighbour. —What?
Ought the nature of true morality to consist for us
in fixing our eyes upon the most direct and imme-
diate consequences of our action for other people,
and in our coming to a decision accordingly? This
is only a narrow and bourgeois morality, even
though it may be a morality: but it seems to me
that it would be more superior and liberal to look
beyond these immediate consequences for our
neighbour in order to encourage more distant
purposes, even at the risk of making others suffer,
—as, for example, by encouraging the spirit of
knowledge in spite of the certainty that our free-
thought will have the instant effect of plunging
others into doubt, grief, and even worse afflictions.
Have we not at least the right to treat our neighbour
as we treat ourselves? And if, where we are con-
cerned, we do not think in such a narrow and bour-
geois fashion of immediate consequences and suffer-
ings, why should we be compelled to act thus in
regard to our neighbour? Supposing that we felt
ready to sacrifice ourselves, what is there to prevent
us from sacrificing our neighbour together with our-
selves,—just as States and Sovereigns have hitherto
sacrificed one citizen to the others, " for the sake of
the general interest," as they say?
## p. 157 (#195) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY. 157
We too, however, have general interests, perhaps
even more general than theirs: so why may we not
sacrifice a few individuals of this generation for
the benefit of generations to come? so that their
affliction, anxiety, despair, blunders, and misery
may be deemed essential because a new plough is
to break up the ground and render it fertile for all.
Finally, we communicate the disposition to our
neighbour by which he is enabled to feel himself a
victim: we persuade him to carry out the task for
which we employ him. Are we then devoid of all
pity? If, however, we wish to achieve a victory
over ourselves beyond our pity, is not this a higher
and more liberal attitude and disposition than that
in which we only feel safe after having ascertained
whether an action benefits or harms our neighbour?
On the contrary, it is by means of such sacrifice—
including the sacrifice of ourselves, as well as of our
neighbours—that we should strengthen and elevate
the general sense of human power, even supposing
that we attain nothing more than this. But even
this itself would be a positive increase of happiness.
Then, if even this . . . but not a word more! You
have understood me at a glance.
147.
The Cause of "Altruism. " Men have on
the whole spoken of love with so much emphasis
and adoration because they have hitherto always
had so little of it, and have never yet been satiated
with this food: in this way it became their ambrosia.
If a poet wished to show universal benevolence in
the image of a Utopia, he would certainly have to
## p. 158 (#196) ############################################
158 THE DAWN OF DAY.
describe an agonising and ridiculous state of things,
the like of which was never seen on earth,—every
one would be surrounded, importuned, and sighed
for, not as at present,by one lover, but by thousands,
by everybody indeed, as the result of an irresistible
craving which would then be as vehemently insulted
and cursed as selfishness has been by men of past
ages. The poets of this new condition of things,
if they had sufficient leisure to write, would be
dreaming of nothing but the blissful and loveless
past, the divine selfishness of yore, and the wonder-
ful possibilities in former times of remaining alone,
not being run after by one's friends, and of even
being hated and despised—or any other odious ex-
pressions which the beautiful animal world in which
we live chooses to coin.
148.
Looking Far Ahead. —If, in accordance with
the present definition, only those actions are moral
which are done for the sake of others, and for their
sake only, then there are no moral actions at all!
If, in accordance with another definition, only those
actions are moral which spring from our own free
will, then there are no moral actions in this case
either! What is it, then, that we designate thus,
which certainly exists and wishes as a consequence
to be explained? It is the result of a few intellectual
blunders; and supposing that we were able to free
ourselves from these errors, what would then become
of " moral actions "? It is due to these errors that
we have up to the present attributed to certain
actions a value superior to what was theirs in reality:
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THE DAWN OF DAY. 159
we separated them from "egoistic " and " non-free"
actions. When we now set them once more in the
latter categories, as we must do, we certainly reduce
their value (their own estimate of value) even below
its reasonable level, because " egoistic" and "non-
free" actions have up to the present been under-
valued owing to that alleged profound and essential
difference.
In future, then, will these very actions be less
frequently performed, since they will be less highly
esteemed? Inevitably! Or at all events for a
fairly long time, as long as the scale of valuations
remains under the reacting influence of former mis-
takes! But we make some return for this by giving
back to men their good courage for the carrying out
of actions that are now reputed to be selfish, and
thus restore their value,—we relieve men's bad con-
sciences! and as up to the present egoistic actions
have been by far the most frequent, and will be
so to all eternity, we free the whole conception of
these actions and of life from its evil appearance!
This is a very high and important result. When
men no longer believe themselves to be evil, they
cease to be so.
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## p. 161 (#199) ############################################
BOOK III.
149.
Little Unconventional Actions are
Necessary ! —To act occasionally in matters of
custom against our own better judgments; to yield
in practice while reserving our own intellectual
liberty; to behave like everybody else and thus to
show ourselves amiable and considerate to all, to
compensate them, as it were, even if only to some
extent, for our unconventional opinions—all this
among many tolerably liberal-minded men is looked
upon not only as permissible but even as " honour-
able," "humane," " tolerant," and "unpedantic," or
whatever fine words may be used to lull to sleep
the intellectual conscience. So, for example, one
man, although he may be an atheist, has his infant
baptized in the usual Christian fashion; another
goes through his period of military service, though
he may severely condemn all hatred between na-
tions; and a third runs into the Church with a girl
because she comes from a religious family, and
makes his vows to a priest without feeling ashamed
of it. "It is of no importance if one of us does
what every one else does and has done "—so says
ignorant prejudice! What a profound mistake!
L
## p. 162 (#200) ############################################
162 THE DAWN OF DAY.
For nothing is of greater importance than that a
powerful, long-established, and irrational custom
should be once again confirmed by the act of some
one who is recognised as rational. In this way the
proceeding is thought to be sanctioned by reason
itself! All honour to your opinions! but little
unconventional actions are of still greater value.
150.
The Hazard of Marriages. —If I were a god,
and a benevolent god, the marriages of men would
cause me more displeasure than anything else. An
individual can make very great progress within the
seventy years of his life—yea, even within thirty
years: such progress, indeed, as to surprise even
the gods! But when we then see him exposing the
inheritance and legacy of his struggles and victories,
the laurel crown of his humanity, on the first con-
venient peg where any female may pick it to pieces
for him; when we observe how well he can acquire
and how little he is capable of preserving hisacquisi-
tions, and how he does not even dream that by pro-
creation he might prepare a still more victorious life,
—we then, indeed,become impatient and say, "No-
thing can in the end result from humanity, indi-
viduals are wasted, for all rationality of a great
advance of humanity is rendered impossible by the
hazard of marriages: let us cease from being the
assiduous spectators and fools of this aimless
drama! " It was in this mood that the gods of
Epicurus withdrew long ago to their divine seclusion
and felicity: they were tired of men and their love
affairs.
## p. 163 (#201) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY. 163
151.
Here areNewIdeals to Invent. —At a time
when a man is in love he should not be allowed to
come to a decision about his life and to determine
once and for all the character of his society on ac-
count of a whim. We ought publicly to declare
invalid the vows of lovers, and to refuse them per-
mission to marry: and this because we should treat
marriage itself much more seriously, so that in cases
where it is now contracted it would not usually be
allowed in future! Are not the majority of marri-
ages such that we should not care to have them wit-
nessed by a third party? And yet this third party
is scarcely ever lacking—the child—and he is more
than a witness; he is the whipping-boy and scape-
goat.
152.
Formula of Oath. —" If I am now telling a lie
I am no longer an honourable man, and every one
may say so to my face. " I recommend this for-
mula in place of the present judicial oath and its
customary invocation to the Deity: it is stronger.
There is no reason why even religious men should
oppose it; for as soon as the customary oath no
longer serves, all the religious people will have to
turn to their catechism, which says, " Thou shalt
not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain. "
153-
The Malcontent. —He is one of the brave old
warriors: angry with civilisation because he believes
## p. 164 (#202) ############################################
164 THE DAWN OF DAY.
that its object is to make all good things—honour,
rewards, and fair women — accessible even to
cowards.
154.
Consolation amid Perils. —The Greeks, in
the course of a life that was always surrounded by
great dangers and cataclysms, endeavoured to find
in meditation and knowledge a kind of security of
feeling, a last refugium. We, who live in a much
more secure state, have introduced danger into
meditation and knowledge, and it is in life itself
that we endeavour to find repose, a refuge from
danger.
Extinct Scepticism. —Hazardous enterprises
are rarer in modern times than in antiquity and in
the Middle Ages, probably because modern times
have no more belief in omens, oracles, stars, and
soothsayers. In other words, we have become in-
capable of believing in a future which is reserved
for us, as the ancients did, who—in contradistinc-
tion to ourselves-—were much less sceptical regard-
ing that which is to be than that which is.
156.
Evil through Exuberance. —" Oh, that we
should not feel too happy ! "—such was the secret
fear of the Greeks in their best age. That is why
they preached moderation to themselves. And we?
## p. 165 (#203) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY. 165
157-
The Worship of Natural Sounds. —What
signification can we find in the fact that our culture
is not only indulgent to the manifestations of grief,
such as tears, complaints, reproaches, and attitudes
of rage and humility, but even approves them and
reckons them among the most noble and essential
things? —while, on the other hand, the spirit of
ancient philosophy looked down upon them with
contempt, without admitting their necessity in any
way. Let us remember how Plato—who was by
no means one of the most inhuman of the phil-
osophers—speaks of the Philoctetus of the tragic
stage. Is it possible that our modern culture is
wanting in "philosophy "? or, in accordance with
the valuations of those old philosophers, do we per-
haps all form part of the " mob "?
158.
The Climate for Flattery. —In our day
flatterers should no longer be sought at the courts
of kings, since these have all acquired a taste for
militarism, which cannot tolerate flattery. But this
flower even now often grows in abundance in the
neighbourhood of bankers and artists.
159.
The Revivers. —Vain men value a fragment
of the past more highly from the moment when
they are able to revive it in their imagination
(especially if it is difficult to do so), they would
## p. 166 (#204) ############################################
t66 the dawn of day.
even like if possible to raise it from the dead. Since,
however, the number of vain people is always very
large, the danger presented by historical studies, if
an entire epoch devotes its attention to them, is by
no means small: too great an amount of strength
is then wasted on all sorts of imaginable resurrec-
tions. The entire movement of romanticism is
perhaps best understood from this point of view.
160.
Vain, Greedy, and not very Wise. —Your
desires are greater than your understanding, and
your vanity is even greater than your desires,—to
people of your type a great deal of Christian prac-
tice and a little Schopenhauerian theory may be
strongly recommended.
161.
Beauty corresponding to the Age. —If our
sculptors, painters, and musicians wish to catch the
significance of the age, they should represent beauty
as bloated, gigantic, and nervous: just as the
Greeks, under the influence of their morality of
moderation, saw and represented beauty in the
Apollo di Belvedere. We should, indeed, call him
ugly! But the pedantic " classicists " have deprived
us of all our honesty!
162.
The Irony of the Present Time. —At the
present day it is the habit of Europeans to treat all
matters of great importance with irony, because, as
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THE DAWN OF DAY. 167
the result of our activity in their service, we have no
time to take them seriously.
163.
Against Rousseau. —If it is true that there is
something contemptible about our civilisation, we
have two alternatives: of concluding with Rousseau
that, " This despicable civilisation is to blame for
our bad morality,"or to infer, contrary to Rousseau's
view, that " Our good morality is to blame for this
contemptible civilisation. Our social conceptions
of good and evil, weak and effeminate as they are,
and their enormous influence over both body and
soul, have had the effect of weakening all bodies
and souls and of crushing all unprejudiced, inde-
pendent, and self-reliant men, the real pillars of a
strong civilisation: wherever we still find the evil
morality to-day, we see the last crumbling ruins of
these pillars. " Thus let paradox be opposed by
paradox! It is quite impossible for the truth to
lie with both sides: and can we say, indeed, that it
lies, with either? Decide for yourself.
164.
Perhaps Premature. —It would seem at the
present time that, under many different and mis-
leading names, and often with a great want of
clearness, those who do not feel themselves attached
to morals and to established laws are taking the
first initial steps to organise themselves, and thus
to create a right for themselves; whilst hitherto,
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168 THE DAWN OF DAY.
as criminals, free-thinkers, immoral men and mis-
creants, they have lived beyond the pale of the law,
under the bane of outlawry and bad conscience,
corrupted and corrupting.
On the whole, we should
consider this as right and proper, although it
may result in insecurity for the coming century
and compel every one to bear arms. —There is
thereby a counterforce which continually reminds
us that there is no exclusively moral-making
morality, and that a morality which asserts itself
to the exclusion of all other morality destroys too
much sound strength and is too dearly bought by
mankind. The non-conventional and deviating
people, who are so often productive and inventive,
must no longer be sacrificed: it must never again
be considered as a disgrace to depart from morality
either in actions or thought; many new experiments
must be made upon life and society, and the world
must be relieved from a huge weight of bad con-
science. These general aims must be recognised
and encouraged by all those upright people who
are seeking truth.
165.
A Morality which does not bore one. —
The principal moral commandments which a nation
permits its teachers to emphasise again and again
stand in relation to its chief defects, and that is why
it does not find them tiresome. The Greeks, who
so often failed to employ moderation, coolness, fair-
mindedness, and rationality in general, turned a
willing ear to the four Socratic virtues,—they stood
## p. 169 (#207) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY. 169
in such need of them, and yet had so little talent
for them!
166.
At the Parting of the Ways. —Shame 1
You wish to form part of a system in which you
must be a wheel, fully and completely, or risk
being crushed by wheels! where it is understood
that each one will be that which his superiors make
of him! where the seeking for " connections" will
form part of one's natural duties! where no one
feels himself offended when he has his attention
drawn to some one with the remark, " He may be
useful to you some time"; where people do not feel
ashamed of paying a visit to ask for somebody's in-
tercession, and where they do not even suspect that
by such a voluntary submission to these morals,
they are once and for all stamped as the common
pottery of nature, which others can employ or break
up of their free will without feeling in any way
responsible for doing so,—just as if one were to
say, "People of my type will never be lacking,
therefore, do what you will with me! Do not
stand on ceremony! "
167.
Unconditional Homage. —When I think of
the most read German philosopher, the most
popular German musician, and the most distin-
guished German statesman, I cannot but acknow-
ledge that life is now rendered unusually arduous
for these Germans, this nation of unconditional
## p. 170 (#208) ############################################
170 THE DAWN OF DAY.
sentiments, and that, too, by their own great men.
We see three magnificent spectacles spread out be-
fore us: on each occasion there is a river rushing
along in the bed which it has made for itself, and
even so agitated that one thinks at times it intends
to flow uphill. And yet, however we might ad-
mire Schopenhauer, who would not, all things con-
sidered, like to have other opinions than his? Who
in all greater and smaller things would now share the
opinions of Richard Wagner, although there may
be truth in the view expressed by some one: viz.
that wherever Wagner gave or took offence some
problem lay hidden,—which, however, he did not
unearth for us. And, finally, how many are there
who would be willing and eager to agree with Bis-
marck, if only he could always agree with himself,
or were even to show some signs of doing so for the
future! It is true that it is by no means astonishing
to find statesmen without principles, but with domin-
ant instincts; a versatile mind, actuated by these
dominant and violent instincts, and hence without
principles—these qualities are looked upon as
reasonable and natural in a statesman. But, alas,
this has up to the present been so un-German; as
un-German as the fuss made about music and the
discord and bad temper excited around the person
of the musician; or as un-German as the new and
extraordinary position taken up by Schopenhauer:
he did not feel himself to be either above things or
on his knees before them—one or other of these
alternatives might still have been German—but
he assumed an attitude against things! How
incredible and disagreeable! to range one's self
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THE DAWN OF DAY. 171
with things and nevertheless be their adversary,
and finally the adversary of one's self,—what can
the unconditional admirer do with such an ex-
ample? And what, again, can he do with three
such examples who cannot keep the peace towards
one another! Here we see Schopenhauer as the
antagonist of Wagner's music, Wagner attacking
Bismarck's politics, and Bismarck attacking Wag-
nerism and Schopenhauerism. What remains for
us to do? Where shall we flee with our thirst for
wholesale hero-worship! Would it not be possible
to choose from the music of the musician a few
hundred bars of good music which appealed to the
heart, and which we should like to take to heart be-
cause they are inspired by the heart,—could we not
stand aside with this small piece of plunder, and
forget the rest? And could we not make a similar
compromise as regards the philosopher and the
statesman,—select, take to heart, and in particular
forget the rest?
Yes, if only forgetfulness were not so difficult!
There was once a very proud man who would
never on any account accept anything, good or
evil, from others,—from any one, indeed, but him-
self. When he wanted to forget, however, he could
not bestow this gift upon himself, and was three
times compelled to conjure up the spirits. They
came, listened to his desire, and said at last, " This
is the only thing it is not in our power to give! "
Could not the Germans take warning by this
experience of Manfred? Why, then, should the
spirits be conjured up? It is useless. We never
forget what we endeavour to forget. And how
## p. 172 (#210) ############################################
172 THE DAWN OF DAY.
great would be the "balance" which we should
have to forget if we wished henceforth to continue
wholesale admirers of these three great men! It
would therefore be far more advisable to profit by
the excellent opportunity offered us to try some-
thing new, i. e. to advance in the spirit of honesty
towards ourselves and become, instead of a nation
of credulous repetition and of bitter and blind ani-
mosity, a people of conditional assent and be-
nevolent opposition. We must come to learn in
the first place, however, that unconditional homage
to people is something rather ridiculous, that a
change of view on this point would not discredit
even Germans, and that there is a profound and
memorable saying: "Ce qui importe, ce ne sont
point Ies personnes: mais les choses. " This say-
ing is like the man who uttered it—great, honest,
simple, and silent,—just like Carnot, the soldier
and Republican. But may I at the present time
speak thus to Germans of a Frenchman, and a
Republican into the bargain? Perhaps not: per-
haps I must not even recall what Niebuhr in his
time dared to say to the Germans: that no one
had made such an impression of true greatness
upon him as Carnot.
168.
A MODEl. —What do I like about Thucydides,
and how does it come that I esteem him more
highly than Plato? He exhibits the most wide-
spread and artless pleasure in everything typical
in men and events, and finds that each type is
## p. 173 (#211) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY. 173
possessed of a certain quantity of good sense: it
is this good sense which he seeks to discover. He
likewise exhibits a larger amount of practical justice
than Plato; he never reviles or belittles those men
whom he dislikes or who have in any way injured
him in the course of his life. On the contrary:
while seeing only types, he introduces something
noble and additional into all things and persons;
for what could posterity, to which he dedicates his
work, do with things not typical! Thus this cul-
ture of the disinterested knowledge of the world
attains in him, the poet-thinker, a final marvellous
bloom,—this culture which has its poet in Sopho-
cles, its statesman in Pericles, its doctor in Hippo-
crates, and its natural philosopher in Democritus:
this culture which deserves to be called by the name
of its teachers, the Sophists, and which, unhappily,
from the moment of its baptism at once begins to
grow pale and incomprehensible to us,—for hence-
forward we suspect that this culture, which was
combated by Plato and all the Socratic schools,
must have been very immoral! The truth of this
matter is so complicated and entangled that we
feel unwilling to unravel it: so let the old error
{error veritate simplicior) run its old course.
169.
The Greek Genius Foreign to us. —Oriental
or modern, Asiatic or European: compared with
the ancient Greeks, everything is characterised by
enormity of size and by the revelling in great
masses as the expression of the sublime, whilst in
## p. 173 (#212) ############################################
172
THE DAWN OF DAY.
great would be the “balance” which we should
have to forget if we wished henceforth to continue
wholesale admirers of these three great men! It
would therefore be far more advisable to profit by
the excellent opportunity offered us to try some-
thing new, i. e. to advance in the spirit of honesty
towards ourselves and become, instead of a nation
of credulous repetition and of bitter and blind ani-
mosity, a people of conditional assent and be-
nevolent opposition. We must come to learn in
the first place, however, that unconditional homage
to people is something rather ridiculous, that a
change of view on this point would not discredit
even Germans, and that there is a profound and
memorable saying: “Ce qui importe, ce ne sont
point les personnes: mais les choses. ” This say-
ing is like the man who uttered it-great, honest,
simple, and silent,—just like Carnot, the soldier
and Republican. But may I at the present time
speak thus to Germans of a Frenchman, and a
Republican into the bargain ? Perhaps not: per-
haps I must not even recall what Niebuhr in his
time dared to say to the Germans: that no one
had made such an impression of true greatnes
upon him as Carnot.
16
Lucyd
im
1
A MODEL. —What do
and how does it come t
highly than Plato ? He
spread and artless pleas
in men and events, and
osty
## p. 173 (#213) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY.
173
possessed of a certain quantity of good sense: it
is this good sense which he seeks to discover. He
likewise exhibits a larger amount of practical justice
than Plato; he never reviles or belittles those men
whom he dislikes or who have in any way injured
him in the course of his life. On the contrary :
while seeing only types, he introduces something
noble and additional into all things and persons;
for what could posterity, to which he dedicates his
work, do with things not typical! Thus this cul-
ture of the disinterested knowledge of the world
attains in him, the poet-thinker, a final marvellous
bloom,—this culture which has its poet in Sopho-
cles, its statesman in Pericles, its doctor in Hippo-
crates, and its natural philosopher in Democritus :
this culture which deserves to be called by the name
of its teachers, the Sophists, and which, unhappily,
from the moment of its baptism at once begins to
grow pale and incomprehensible to us,—for hence-
forward we suspect that this culture, which was
combated by Plato and all the Socratic schools,
must have been very immoral! The truth of this
matter is so complicated and entangled that we
feel unwilling to unravel it: so let the old error
ror veritate simplicior) run its old course.
169.
IE GREEK GENIUS FOREIGN TO US. —Oriental
oder siatic or European : compared with
ісі eks, everything is characterised by
and by the revelling in great
ression of the sublime, whilst in
## p. 174 (#214) ############################################
174 THE DAWN OF DAY.
Paestum, Pompeii, and Athens we are astonished,
when contemplating Greek architecture, to see with
what small masses the Greeks were able to express
the sublime, and how they loved to express it thus.
In the same way, how simple were the Greeks in
the idea which they formed of themselves! How
far we surpass them in the knowledge of man!
Again, how full of labyrinths would our souls and
our conceptions of our souls appear in comparison
with theirs! If we had to venture upon an archi-
tecture after the style of our own souls—(we are
too cowardly for that! )—a labyrinth would have
to be our model. That music which is peculiar
to us, and which really expresses us, lets this be
clearly seen! (for in music men let themselves go,
because they think there is no one who can see
them hiding behind their music).
170.
Another Point of View. —How we babble
about the Greeks! What do we understand of
their art, the soul of which was the passion for
naked masculine beauty! It was only by starting
therefrom that they appreciated feminine beauty.
For the latter they had thus a perspective quite
different from ours. It was the same in regard to
their love for women: their worship was of a
different kind, and so also was their contempt.
171.
The Food of the Modern Man. —He has
learned to digest many things; nay, almost every-
## p. 175 (#215) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY. 175
thing; it is his ambition to do so. He would, how-
ever, be really of a higher order if he did not under-
stand this so well: homopamphagus is not the finest
type of the human race. We live between a past
which had a more wayward and deranged taste
than we, and a future which will possibly have a
more select taste,—we live too much midway.
172.
Tragedy and Music. —Men of essentially ^
warlike disposition, such, for example, as the
ancient Greeks in the time of ^Eschylus, are
difficult to rouse, and when pity once triumphs
over their hardness they are seized as by a kind
of giddiness or a " demoniacal power,"—they feel
themselves overpowered and thrilled by a religious
horror. After this they become sceptical about
their condition; but as long as they are in it they
enjoy the charm of being, as it were, outside them-
selves, and the delight of the marvellous mixed with
the bitterest gall of suffering: this is the proper
kind of drink for fighting men,—something rare,
dangerous, and bitter-sweet, which does not often
fall to one's lot.
Tragedy appeals to souls who feel pity in this
way, to those fierce and warlike souls which are
difficult to overcome, whether by fear or pity, but
which lose nothing by being softened from time to
time. Of what use, however, is tragedy to those
who are as open to the "sympathetic affections"
as the sails of a ship to the wind! When at the
time of Plato the Athenians had become more
## p. 176 (#216) ############################################
176 THE DAWN OF DAY.
softened and sensitive, oh, how far they were still
removed from the gushing emotions of the inhabit-
ants of our modern towns and villages! And yet
even then the philosophers were beginning to com-
plain of the injurious nature of tragedy. An epoch
full of danger such as that now beginning, in which
bravery and manliness are rising in value, will
perhaps again harden souls to such an extent that
they will once more stand in need of tragic poets:
but in the meantime these are somewhat super-
fluous, to put it mildly. For music, too, a better
age may be approaching (it will certainly be a more
evil age! ) when artists will have to make their
music appeal to strongly individual beings, beings
which will have become hard and which will be
dominated by the gloomy earnestness of their own
passion; but of what use is music to the little souls
of the present age which is fast passing away, souls
that are too unsteady, ill-developed, half-personal,
inquisitive, and covetous of everything?
173-
The Flatterers of Work. —In the glorifica-
tion of" work " and the never-ceasing talk about the
"blessing of labour," I see the same secret arriere-
pensee as I do in the praise bestowed on impersonal
acts of a general interest, viz. a fear of everything
individual. For at the sight of work—that is to
say, severe toil from morning till night—we have
the feeling that it is the best police, viz. that it
holds every one in check and effectively hinders the
development of reason, of greed, and of desire for
## p. 177 (#217) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY. 177
independence. For work uses up an extraordinary
proportion of nervous force, withdrawing it from
reflection, meditation, dreams, cares, love, and
hatred; it dangles unimportant aims before the
eyes of the worker and affords easy and regular
gratification. Thus it happens that a society
where work is continually being performed will
enjoy greater security, and it is security which is
now venerated as the supreme deity. —And now,
horror of horrors! it is the "workman" himself
who has become dangerous; the whole world is
swarming with " dangerous individuals," and behind
them follows the danger of dangers—the in-
dividuum!
174.
The Moral Fashion of a Commercial
Community. —Behind the principle of the present
moral fashion: "Moral actions are actions per-
formed out of sympathy for others," I see the social
instinct of fear, which thus assumes an intellectual
disguise: this instinct sets forth as its supreme,
most important, and most immediate principle that
life shall be relieved of all the dangerous character-
istics which it possessed in former times, and that
every one must help with all his strength towards
the attainment of this end. It is for that reason
that only those actions which keep in view the
general security and the feeling of security of society
are called "good. " How little joy must men now
have in themselves when such a tyranny of fear
prescribes their supreme moral law, if they make
no objection when commanded to turn their eyes
M
## p. 178 (#218) ############################################
178 THE DAWN OF DAY.
from themselves and to look aside from themselves!
And yet at the same time they have lynx eyes for
all distress and suffering elsewhere! Are we not,
then, with this gigantic intention of ours of smooth-
ing down every sharp edge and corner in life, utilis-
ing the best means of turning mankind into sand!
Small, soft, round, infinite sand! Is that your
ideal, ye harbingers of the "sympathetic affec-
tions "? In the meantime even the question re-
mains unanswered whether we are of more use to
our neighbour in running immediately and con-
tinually to his help,—which for the most part can
only be done in a very superficial way, as other-
wise it would become a tyrannical meddling and
changing,—or by transforming ourselves into some-
thing which our neighbour can look upon with
pleasure,—something, for example, which may be
compared to a beautiful, quiet, and secluded garden,
protected by high walls against storms and the dust
of the roads, but likewise with a hospitable gate.
175-
Fundamental Basis of a Culture of
Traders. — We have now an opportunity of
watching the manifold growth of the culture of a
society of which commerce is the soul, just as
personal rivalry was the soul of culture among the
ancient Greeks, and war, conquest, and law among
the ancient Romans. The tradesman is able to
value everything without producing it, and to value
it according to the requirements of the consumer
rather than his own personal needs. "How many
## p. 179 (#219) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY. 179
and what class of people will consume this? " is
his question of questions. Hence, he instinctively
and incessantly employs this mode of valuation and
applies it to everything, including the productions
of art and science, and of thinkers, scholars, artists,
statesmen, nations, political parties, and even entire
ages: with respect to everything produced or
created he inquires into the supply and demand in
order to estimate for himself the value of a thing.
This, when once it has been made the principle of
an entire culture, worked out to its most minute
and subtle details, and imposed upon every kind
of will and knowledge, this is what you men of the
coming century will be proud of,—if the prophets
of the commercial classes are right in putting that
century into your possession! But I have little be-
lief in these prophets. Credat Judceus Apella—to
speak with Horace.
176.
The Criticism of our Ancestors. —Why
should we now endure the truth, even about the
most recent past? Because there is now always a
new generation which feels itself in contradiction
to the past and enjoys in this criticism the first-
fruits of its sense of power. In former times the
new generation, on the contrary, wished to base
itself on the old and began to feel conscious of its
power, not only in accepting the opinions of its
ancestors but, if possible, taking them even more
seriously. To criticise ancestral authority was in
former times a vice; but at the present time our
idealists begin by making it their starting-point.
## p. 180 (#220) ############################################
i8o THE DAWN OF DAY.
i/7-
To learn Solitude. —O ye poor fellows in
the great centres of the world's politics, ye young
and talented men, who, urged on by ambition, think
it your duty to propound your opinion of every
event of the day,—for something is always happen-
ing,—who, by thus making a noise and raising
a cloud of dust, mistake yourselves for the rolling
chariot of history; who, because ye always listen,
always suit the moment when ye can put in your
word or two, thereby lose all real productiveness.
Whatever may be your desire to accomplish great
deeds, the deep silence of pregnancy never comes
to you! The event of the day sweeps you along
like straws before the wind whilst ye lie under the
illusion that ye are chasing the event,—poor fel-
lows! If a man wishes to act the hero on the
stage he must not think of forming part of the
chorus; he should not even know how the chorus
is made up.
178.
Daily Wear and Tear. —These young men
are lacking neither in character, nor talent, nor zeal,
but they have never had sufficient time to choose
their own path; they have, on the contrary, been
habituated from the most tender age to have their
path pointed out to them. At the time when
they were ripe enough to be sent into the "desert,"
something else was done with them. They were
turned to account, estranged from themselves, and
## p. 181 (#221) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY. i8i
brought up in such a way that they became ac-
customed to be worn out by their daily toil. This
was imposed on them as a duty, and now they
cannot do without it; they would not wish it to be
otherwise. The only thing that cannot be refused
to these poor beasts of burden is their " holidays"
—such is the name they give to this ideal of leisure
in an overworked century; "holidays," in which
they may for once be idle, idiotic, and childish to
their heart's content.
179.
As little State as possible ! —All political
and economic matters are not of such great value
that they ought to be dealt with by the most
talented minds: such a waste of intellect is at
bottom worse than any state of distress. These
matters are, and ever will be, the province of smaller
minds, and others than the smaller minds should
not be at the service of this workshop: it would be
better to let the machinery work itself to pieces
again! But as matters stand at the present time,
when not only do all people believe that they must
know all about it day by day, but wish likewise
to be always busy about it, and in so doing neglect
their own work, it is a great and ridiculous mis-
take. The price that has to be paid for the " public
safety " is far too high, and, what is maddest of all,
we effect the very opposite of " public safety," a
fact which our own dear century has undertaken
to prove, as if this had never been proved before!
To make society secure against thieves and fire, and
to render it thoroughly fit for all kinds of trade and
## p. 182 (#222) ############################################
182 THE DAWN OF DAY.
traffic, and to transform the State in a good and
evil sense into a kind of Providence—these aims
are low, mediocre, and not by any means indis-
pensable; and we should not seek to attain them
by the aid of the highest means and instruments
which exist—means which we should reserve pre-
cisely for our highest and rarest aims! Our epoch',
however much it may babble about economy, is a
spendthrift: it wastes intellect, the most precious
thing of all.
180.
Wars. —The great wars of our own day are the
outcome of historical study.
181.
Governing. —Some people govern because of
their passion for governing; others in order that
they may not be governed,—the latter choose it as
the lesser of two evils.
182.
Rough and Ready Consistency.
stage of morality: never let us be tempted to set it
on a higher plane merely on account of its aesthetic
charms.
142.
SYMPATHY. —In order to understand our neigh-
bour, that is, in order to reproduce his sentiments in
ourselves, we often, no doubt, plumb the cause of his
feelings, as, for example, by asking ourselves, Why
## p. 151 (#189) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY. 151
is he sad? in order that we may become sad our
selves for the same reason. But we much more
frequently neglect to act thus, and we produce these
feelings in ourselves in accordance with the effects
which they exhibit in the person we are studying,
—by imitating in our own body the expression of
his eyes, his voice, his gait, his attitude (or, at any
rate, the likeness of these things in words, pictures,
and music), or we may at least endeavour to mimic
the action of his muscles and nervous system. A
like feeling will then spring up in us as the result
of an old association of movements and sentiments
which has been trained to run backwards and for-
wards. We have developed to a very high pitch this
knack of sounding the feelings of others, and when
we are in the presence of any one else we bring this
faculty of ours into play almost involuntarily,—let
the inquirer observe the animation of a woman's
countenance and notice how it vibrates and quivers
with animation as the result of the continual imita-
tion and reflection of what is going on around her.
It is music, however, more than anything else
that shows us what past-masters we are in the rapid
and subtle divination of feelings and sympathy;
for even if music is only the imitation of an imita-
tion of feelings, nevertheless, despite its distance
and vagueness, it often enables us to participate in
those feelings, so that we become sad without any
reason for feeling so, like the fools that we are,
merely because we hear certain sounds and rhythms
that somehow or other remind us of the intonation
and the movements, or perhaps even only of the
behaviour, of sorrowful people. It is related of a
## p. 152 (#190) ############################################
152 THE DAWN OF DAY.
certain Danish king that he was wrought up to such
a pitch of warlike enthusiasm by the song of a
minstrel that he sprang to his feet and killed five
persons of his assembled court: there was neither
war nor enemy; there was rather the exact opposite;
yet the power of the retrospective inference from a
feeling to the cause of it was sufficiently strong in
this king to overpower both his observation and his
reason. Such,however,is almost invariablythe effect
of music (provided that it thrills us), and we have no
need of such paradoxical instances to recognise this,
—the state of feeling into which music transports
us is almost always in contradiction to the appear-
ance of our actual state, and of our reasoning power
which recognises this actual state and its causes.
If we inquire how it happened that this imitation
of the feelings of others has become so common,
there will be no doubt as to the answer: man being
the most timid of all beings because of his subtle
and delicate nature has been made familiar through
his timidity with this sympathy for, and rapid com-
prehension of, the feelings of others, even of animals.
For century after century he saw danger in every-
thing that was unfamiliar to him, in anything that
happened to be alive, and whenever the spectacle
of such things and creatures came before his eyes
he imitated their features and attitude, drawing at
the same time his own conclusion as to the nature
of the evil intentions they concealed. This interpre-
tation of all movements and all facial characteristics
in the sense of intentions, man has even brought to
bear on things inanimate,—urged on as he was by
the illusion that there was nothing inanimate. I
## p. 153 (#191) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY. 153
believe that this is the origin of everything that we
now call a feeling for nature, that sensation of joy
which men experience at the sight of the sky, the
fields, the rocks, the forests, the storms, the stars,
the landscapes, and spring: without our old habits
of fear which forced us to suspect behind everything
a kind of second and more recondite sense, we should
now experience no delight in nature, in the same
way as men and animals do not cause us to rejoice
if we have not first been deterred by that source of
all understanding, namely, fear. For joy and agree-
able surprise, and finally the feeling of ridicule, are
the younger children of sympathy, and the much
younger brothers and sisters of fear. The faculty
of rapid perception, which is based on the faculty of
rapid dissimulation, decreases in proud and auto-
cratic men and nations, as they are less timid; but,
on the other hand, every category of understanding
and dissimulation is well known to timid peoples,
and among them is to be found the real home of
imitative arts and superior intelligence.
When, proceeding from the theory of sympathy
such as I have just outlined, I turn my attention to
the theory, now so popular and almost sacrosanct,
of a mystical process by means of which pity blends
two beings into one, and thus permits them imme-
diately to understand one another, when I recollect
that even so clear a brain as Schopenhauer's de-
lighted in such fantastic nonsense, and that he in
his turn transplanted this delight into other lucid
and semi-lucid brains, I feel unlimited astonishment
and compassion. How great must be the pleasure
we experience in this senseless tomfoolery! How
## p. 154 (#192) ############################################
154 THE DAWN OF DAY.
near must even a sane man be to insanity as soon
as he listens to his own secret intellectual desires ! —
Why did Schopenhauer really feel so grateful, so
profoundly indebted to Kant? He revealed on one
occasion the undoubted answer to this question.
Some one had spoken of the way in which the
qualitas occulta of Kant's Categorical Imperative
might be got rid of, so that the theory itself might be
rendered intelligible. Whereupon Schopenhauer
gave utterance to the following outburst: "An intel-
ligible Categorical Imperative! Preposterous idea!
Stygian darkness! God forbid that it should ever
become intelligible! The fact that there is actually
something unintelligible, that this misery of the
understanding and its conceptions is limited, condi-
tional, final, and deceptive,—this is beyond question
Kant's great gift. " Let any one consider whether
a man can be in possession of a desire to gain an
insight into moral things when he feels himself
comforted from the start by a belief in the incon-
ceivableness of these things! one who still honestly
believes in illuminations from above, in magic, in
ghostly appearances, and in the metaphysical ugli-
ness of the toad!
143-
Woe to us if this Impulse should Rage!
—Supposing that the impulse towards devotion
and care for others (" sympathetic affection ") were
doubly as strong as it now is, life on earth could
not be endured. Let it only be considered how
many foolish things every one of us does day by
day and hour by hour, merely out of solicitude and
## p. 155 (#193) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY. 155
devotion for himself, and how unbearable he seems
in doing so: and what then would it be like if we
were to become for other people the object of
the stupidities and importunities with which up to
the present they have only tormented themselves!
Should we not then take precipitately to our heels
as soon as one of our neighbours came towards us?
And would it not be necessary to overwhelm this
sympathetic affection with the abuse that we now
reserve for egoism?
144.
Closing our Ears to the Complaints of
OTHERs. —When we let our sky be clouded by the
complaints and suffering of other mortals, who
must bear the consequences of such gloom? No
doubt those other mortals, in addition to all their
other burdens! If we are merely to be the echoes
of their complaints, we cannot accord them either
help or comfort; nor can we do so if we were
continually keeping our ears open to listen to them,
—unless we have learnt the art of the Olympians,
who, instead of trying to make themselves unhappy,
endeavoured to feel edified by the misfortunes of
mankind. But this is something too Olympian for
us, although, in our enjoyment of tragedy, we have
already taken a step towards this ideal divine can-
nibalism.
145.
"UNEgoISTic. "—This man is empty and wishes
to be filled, that one is over-full and wishes to be
emptied: both of them feel themselves urged on
## p. 156 (#194) ############################################
156 THE DAWN OF DAY.
to look for an individual who can help them. And
this phenomenon, interpreted in a higher sense, is
in both cases known by the same name, " love. "
Well? and could this love be something unegoistic?
146.
Looking Beyond our Neighbour. —What?
Ought the nature of true morality to consist for us
in fixing our eyes upon the most direct and imme-
diate consequences of our action for other people,
and in our coming to a decision accordingly? This
is only a narrow and bourgeois morality, even
though it may be a morality: but it seems to me
that it would be more superior and liberal to look
beyond these immediate consequences for our
neighbour in order to encourage more distant
purposes, even at the risk of making others suffer,
—as, for example, by encouraging the spirit of
knowledge in spite of the certainty that our free-
thought will have the instant effect of plunging
others into doubt, grief, and even worse afflictions.
Have we not at least the right to treat our neighbour
as we treat ourselves? And if, where we are con-
cerned, we do not think in such a narrow and bour-
geois fashion of immediate consequences and suffer-
ings, why should we be compelled to act thus in
regard to our neighbour? Supposing that we felt
ready to sacrifice ourselves, what is there to prevent
us from sacrificing our neighbour together with our-
selves,—just as States and Sovereigns have hitherto
sacrificed one citizen to the others, " for the sake of
the general interest," as they say?
## p. 157 (#195) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY. 157
We too, however, have general interests, perhaps
even more general than theirs: so why may we not
sacrifice a few individuals of this generation for
the benefit of generations to come? so that their
affliction, anxiety, despair, blunders, and misery
may be deemed essential because a new plough is
to break up the ground and render it fertile for all.
Finally, we communicate the disposition to our
neighbour by which he is enabled to feel himself a
victim: we persuade him to carry out the task for
which we employ him. Are we then devoid of all
pity? If, however, we wish to achieve a victory
over ourselves beyond our pity, is not this a higher
and more liberal attitude and disposition than that
in which we only feel safe after having ascertained
whether an action benefits or harms our neighbour?
On the contrary, it is by means of such sacrifice—
including the sacrifice of ourselves, as well as of our
neighbours—that we should strengthen and elevate
the general sense of human power, even supposing
that we attain nothing more than this. But even
this itself would be a positive increase of happiness.
Then, if even this . . . but not a word more! You
have understood me at a glance.
147.
The Cause of "Altruism. " Men have on
the whole spoken of love with so much emphasis
and adoration because they have hitherto always
had so little of it, and have never yet been satiated
with this food: in this way it became their ambrosia.
If a poet wished to show universal benevolence in
the image of a Utopia, he would certainly have to
## p. 158 (#196) ############################################
158 THE DAWN OF DAY.
describe an agonising and ridiculous state of things,
the like of which was never seen on earth,—every
one would be surrounded, importuned, and sighed
for, not as at present,by one lover, but by thousands,
by everybody indeed, as the result of an irresistible
craving which would then be as vehemently insulted
and cursed as selfishness has been by men of past
ages. The poets of this new condition of things,
if they had sufficient leisure to write, would be
dreaming of nothing but the blissful and loveless
past, the divine selfishness of yore, and the wonder-
ful possibilities in former times of remaining alone,
not being run after by one's friends, and of even
being hated and despised—or any other odious ex-
pressions which the beautiful animal world in which
we live chooses to coin.
148.
Looking Far Ahead. —If, in accordance with
the present definition, only those actions are moral
which are done for the sake of others, and for their
sake only, then there are no moral actions at all!
If, in accordance with another definition, only those
actions are moral which spring from our own free
will, then there are no moral actions in this case
either! What is it, then, that we designate thus,
which certainly exists and wishes as a consequence
to be explained? It is the result of a few intellectual
blunders; and supposing that we were able to free
ourselves from these errors, what would then become
of " moral actions "? It is due to these errors that
we have up to the present attributed to certain
actions a value superior to what was theirs in reality:
## p. 159 (#197) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY. 159
we separated them from "egoistic " and " non-free"
actions. When we now set them once more in the
latter categories, as we must do, we certainly reduce
their value (their own estimate of value) even below
its reasonable level, because " egoistic" and "non-
free" actions have up to the present been under-
valued owing to that alleged profound and essential
difference.
In future, then, will these very actions be less
frequently performed, since they will be less highly
esteemed? Inevitably! Or at all events for a
fairly long time, as long as the scale of valuations
remains under the reacting influence of former mis-
takes! But we make some return for this by giving
back to men their good courage for the carrying out
of actions that are now reputed to be selfish, and
thus restore their value,—we relieve men's bad con-
sciences! and as up to the present egoistic actions
have been by far the most frequent, and will be
so to all eternity, we free the whole conception of
these actions and of life from its evil appearance!
This is a very high and important result. When
men no longer believe themselves to be evil, they
cease to be so.
## p. 160 (#198) ############################################
## p. 161 (#199) ############################################
BOOK III.
149.
Little Unconventional Actions are
Necessary ! —To act occasionally in matters of
custom against our own better judgments; to yield
in practice while reserving our own intellectual
liberty; to behave like everybody else and thus to
show ourselves amiable and considerate to all, to
compensate them, as it were, even if only to some
extent, for our unconventional opinions—all this
among many tolerably liberal-minded men is looked
upon not only as permissible but even as " honour-
able," "humane," " tolerant," and "unpedantic," or
whatever fine words may be used to lull to sleep
the intellectual conscience. So, for example, one
man, although he may be an atheist, has his infant
baptized in the usual Christian fashion; another
goes through his period of military service, though
he may severely condemn all hatred between na-
tions; and a third runs into the Church with a girl
because she comes from a religious family, and
makes his vows to a priest without feeling ashamed
of it. "It is of no importance if one of us does
what every one else does and has done "—so says
ignorant prejudice! What a profound mistake!
L
## p. 162 (#200) ############################################
162 THE DAWN OF DAY.
For nothing is of greater importance than that a
powerful, long-established, and irrational custom
should be once again confirmed by the act of some
one who is recognised as rational. In this way the
proceeding is thought to be sanctioned by reason
itself! All honour to your opinions! but little
unconventional actions are of still greater value.
150.
The Hazard of Marriages. —If I were a god,
and a benevolent god, the marriages of men would
cause me more displeasure than anything else. An
individual can make very great progress within the
seventy years of his life—yea, even within thirty
years: such progress, indeed, as to surprise even
the gods! But when we then see him exposing the
inheritance and legacy of his struggles and victories,
the laurel crown of his humanity, on the first con-
venient peg where any female may pick it to pieces
for him; when we observe how well he can acquire
and how little he is capable of preserving hisacquisi-
tions, and how he does not even dream that by pro-
creation he might prepare a still more victorious life,
—we then, indeed,become impatient and say, "No-
thing can in the end result from humanity, indi-
viduals are wasted, for all rationality of a great
advance of humanity is rendered impossible by the
hazard of marriages: let us cease from being the
assiduous spectators and fools of this aimless
drama! " It was in this mood that the gods of
Epicurus withdrew long ago to their divine seclusion
and felicity: they were tired of men and their love
affairs.
## p. 163 (#201) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY. 163
151.
Here areNewIdeals to Invent. —At a time
when a man is in love he should not be allowed to
come to a decision about his life and to determine
once and for all the character of his society on ac-
count of a whim. We ought publicly to declare
invalid the vows of lovers, and to refuse them per-
mission to marry: and this because we should treat
marriage itself much more seriously, so that in cases
where it is now contracted it would not usually be
allowed in future! Are not the majority of marri-
ages such that we should not care to have them wit-
nessed by a third party? And yet this third party
is scarcely ever lacking—the child—and he is more
than a witness; he is the whipping-boy and scape-
goat.
152.
Formula of Oath. —" If I am now telling a lie
I am no longer an honourable man, and every one
may say so to my face. " I recommend this for-
mula in place of the present judicial oath and its
customary invocation to the Deity: it is stronger.
There is no reason why even religious men should
oppose it; for as soon as the customary oath no
longer serves, all the religious people will have to
turn to their catechism, which says, " Thou shalt
not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain. "
153-
The Malcontent. —He is one of the brave old
warriors: angry with civilisation because he believes
## p. 164 (#202) ############################################
164 THE DAWN OF DAY.
that its object is to make all good things—honour,
rewards, and fair women — accessible even to
cowards.
154.
Consolation amid Perils. —The Greeks, in
the course of a life that was always surrounded by
great dangers and cataclysms, endeavoured to find
in meditation and knowledge a kind of security of
feeling, a last refugium. We, who live in a much
more secure state, have introduced danger into
meditation and knowledge, and it is in life itself
that we endeavour to find repose, a refuge from
danger.
Extinct Scepticism. —Hazardous enterprises
are rarer in modern times than in antiquity and in
the Middle Ages, probably because modern times
have no more belief in omens, oracles, stars, and
soothsayers. In other words, we have become in-
capable of believing in a future which is reserved
for us, as the ancients did, who—in contradistinc-
tion to ourselves-—were much less sceptical regard-
ing that which is to be than that which is.
156.
Evil through Exuberance. —" Oh, that we
should not feel too happy ! "—such was the secret
fear of the Greeks in their best age. That is why
they preached moderation to themselves. And we?
## p. 165 (#203) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY. 165
157-
The Worship of Natural Sounds. —What
signification can we find in the fact that our culture
is not only indulgent to the manifestations of grief,
such as tears, complaints, reproaches, and attitudes
of rage and humility, but even approves them and
reckons them among the most noble and essential
things? —while, on the other hand, the spirit of
ancient philosophy looked down upon them with
contempt, without admitting their necessity in any
way. Let us remember how Plato—who was by
no means one of the most inhuman of the phil-
osophers—speaks of the Philoctetus of the tragic
stage. Is it possible that our modern culture is
wanting in "philosophy "? or, in accordance with
the valuations of those old philosophers, do we per-
haps all form part of the " mob "?
158.
The Climate for Flattery. —In our day
flatterers should no longer be sought at the courts
of kings, since these have all acquired a taste for
militarism, which cannot tolerate flattery. But this
flower even now often grows in abundance in the
neighbourhood of bankers and artists.
159.
The Revivers. —Vain men value a fragment
of the past more highly from the moment when
they are able to revive it in their imagination
(especially if it is difficult to do so), they would
## p. 166 (#204) ############################################
t66 the dawn of day.
even like if possible to raise it from the dead. Since,
however, the number of vain people is always very
large, the danger presented by historical studies, if
an entire epoch devotes its attention to them, is by
no means small: too great an amount of strength
is then wasted on all sorts of imaginable resurrec-
tions. The entire movement of romanticism is
perhaps best understood from this point of view.
160.
Vain, Greedy, and not very Wise. —Your
desires are greater than your understanding, and
your vanity is even greater than your desires,—to
people of your type a great deal of Christian prac-
tice and a little Schopenhauerian theory may be
strongly recommended.
161.
Beauty corresponding to the Age. —If our
sculptors, painters, and musicians wish to catch the
significance of the age, they should represent beauty
as bloated, gigantic, and nervous: just as the
Greeks, under the influence of their morality of
moderation, saw and represented beauty in the
Apollo di Belvedere. We should, indeed, call him
ugly! But the pedantic " classicists " have deprived
us of all our honesty!
162.
The Irony of the Present Time. —At the
present day it is the habit of Europeans to treat all
matters of great importance with irony, because, as
## p. 167 (#205) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY. 167
the result of our activity in their service, we have no
time to take them seriously.
163.
Against Rousseau. —If it is true that there is
something contemptible about our civilisation, we
have two alternatives: of concluding with Rousseau
that, " This despicable civilisation is to blame for
our bad morality,"or to infer, contrary to Rousseau's
view, that " Our good morality is to blame for this
contemptible civilisation. Our social conceptions
of good and evil, weak and effeminate as they are,
and their enormous influence over both body and
soul, have had the effect of weakening all bodies
and souls and of crushing all unprejudiced, inde-
pendent, and self-reliant men, the real pillars of a
strong civilisation: wherever we still find the evil
morality to-day, we see the last crumbling ruins of
these pillars. " Thus let paradox be opposed by
paradox! It is quite impossible for the truth to
lie with both sides: and can we say, indeed, that it
lies, with either? Decide for yourself.
164.
Perhaps Premature. —It would seem at the
present time that, under many different and mis-
leading names, and often with a great want of
clearness, those who do not feel themselves attached
to morals and to established laws are taking the
first initial steps to organise themselves, and thus
to create a right for themselves; whilst hitherto,
## p. 168 (#206) ############################################
168 THE DAWN OF DAY.
as criminals, free-thinkers, immoral men and mis-
creants, they have lived beyond the pale of the law,
under the bane of outlawry and bad conscience,
corrupted and corrupting.
On the whole, we should
consider this as right and proper, although it
may result in insecurity for the coming century
and compel every one to bear arms. —There is
thereby a counterforce which continually reminds
us that there is no exclusively moral-making
morality, and that a morality which asserts itself
to the exclusion of all other morality destroys too
much sound strength and is too dearly bought by
mankind. The non-conventional and deviating
people, who are so often productive and inventive,
must no longer be sacrificed: it must never again
be considered as a disgrace to depart from morality
either in actions or thought; many new experiments
must be made upon life and society, and the world
must be relieved from a huge weight of bad con-
science. These general aims must be recognised
and encouraged by all those upright people who
are seeking truth.
165.
A Morality which does not bore one. —
The principal moral commandments which a nation
permits its teachers to emphasise again and again
stand in relation to its chief defects, and that is why
it does not find them tiresome. The Greeks, who
so often failed to employ moderation, coolness, fair-
mindedness, and rationality in general, turned a
willing ear to the four Socratic virtues,—they stood
## p. 169 (#207) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY. 169
in such need of them, and yet had so little talent
for them!
166.
At the Parting of the Ways. —Shame 1
You wish to form part of a system in which you
must be a wheel, fully and completely, or risk
being crushed by wheels! where it is understood
that each one will be that which his superiors make
of him! where the seeking for " connections" will
form part of one's natural duties! where no one
feels himself offended when he has his attention
drawn to some one with the remark, " He may be
useful to you some time"; where people do not feel
ashamed of paying a visit to ask for somebody's in-
tercession, and where they do not even suspect that
by such a voluntary submission to these morals,
they are once and for all stamped as the common
pottery of nature, which others can employ or break
up of their free will without feeling in any way
responsible for doing so,—just as if one were to
say, "People of my type will never be lacking,
therefore, do what you will with me! Do not
stand on ceremony! "
167.
Unconditional Homage. —When I think of
the most read German philosopher, the most
popular German musician, and the most distin-
guished German statesman, I cannot but acknow-
ledge that life is now rendered unusually arduous
for these Germans, this nation of unconditional
## p. 170 (#208) ############################################
170 THE DAWN OF DAY.
sentiments, and that, too, by their own great men.
We see three magnificent spectacles spread out be-
fore us: on each occasion there is a river rushing
along in the bed which it has made for itself, and
even so agitated that one thinks at times it intends
to flow uphill. And yet, however we might ad-
mire Schopenhauer, who would not, all things con-
sidered, like to have other opinions than his? Who
in all greater and smaller things would now share the
opinions of Richard Wagner, although there may
be truth in the view expressed by some one: viz.
that wherever Wagner gave or took offence some
problem lay hidden,—which, however, he did not
unearth for us. And, finally, how many are there
who would be willing and eager to agree with Bis-
marck, if only he could always agree with himself,
or were even to show some signs of doing so for the
future! It is true that it is by no means astonishing
to find statesmen without principles, but with domin-
ant instincts; a versatile mind, actuated by these
dominant and violent instincts, and hence without
principles—these qualities are looked upon as
reasonable and natural in a statesman. But, alas,
this has up to the present been so un-German; as
un-German as the fuss made about music and the
discord and bad temper excited around the person
of the musician; or as un-German as the new and
extraordinary position taken up by Schopenhauer:
he did not feel himself to be either above things or
on his knees before them—one or other of these
alternatives might still have been German—but
he assumed an attitude against things! How
incredible and disagreeable! to range one's self
## p. 171 (#209) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY. 171
with things and nevertheless be their adversary,
and finally the adversary of one's self,—what can
the unconditional admirer do with such an ex-
ample? And what, again, can he do with three
such examples who cannot keep the peace towards
one another! Here we see Schopenhauer as the
antagonist of Wagner's music, Wagner attacking
Bismarck's politics, and Bismarck attacking Wag-
nerism and Schopenhauerism. What remains for
us to do? Where shall we flee with our thirst for
wholesale hero-worship! Would it not be possible
to choose from the music of the musician a few
hundred bars of good music which appealed to the
heart, and which we should like to take to heart be-
cause they are inspired by the heart,—could we not
stand aside with this small piece of plunder, and
forget the rest? And could we not make a similar
compromise as regards the philosopher and the
statesman,—select, take to heart, and in particular
forget the rest?
Yes, if only forgetfulness were not so difficult!
There was once a very proud man who would
never on any account accept anything, good or
evil, from others,—from any one, indeed, but him-
self. When he wanted to forget, however, he could
not bestow this gift upon himself, and was three
times compelled to conjure up the spirits. They
came, listened to his desire, and said at last, " This
is the only thing it is not in our power to give! "
Could not the Germans take warning by this
experience of Manfred? Why, then, should the
spirits be conjured up? It is useless. We never
forget what we endeavour to forget. And how
## p. 172 (#210) ############################################
172 THE DAWN OF DAY.
great would be the "balance" which we should
have to forget if we wished henceforth to continue
wholesale admirers of these three great men! It
would therefore be far more advisable to profit by
the excellent opportunity offered us to try some-
thing new, i. e. to advance in the spirit of honesty
towards ourselves and become, instead of a nation
of credulous repetition and of bitter and blind ani-
mosity, a people of conditional assent and be-
nevolent opposition. We must come to learn in
the first place, however, that unconditional homage
to people is something rather ridiculous, that a
change of view on this point would not discredit
even Germans, and that there is a profound and
memorable saying: "Ce qui importe, ce ne sont
point Ies personnes: mais les choses. " This say-
ing is like the man who uttered it—great, honest,
simple, and silent,—just like Carnot, the soldier
and Republican. But may I at the present time
speak thus to Germans of a Frenchman, and a
Republican into the bargain? Perhaps not: per-
haps I must not even recall what Niebuhr in his
time dared to say to the Germans: that no one
had made such an impression of true greatness
upon him as Carnot.
168.
A MODEl. —What do I like about Thucydides,
and how does it come that I esteem him more
highly than Plato? He exhibits the most wide-
spread and artless pleasure in everything typical
in men and events, and finds that each type is
## p. 173 (#211) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY. 173
possessed of a certain quantity of good sense: it
is this good sense which he seeks to discover. He
likewise exhibits a larger amount of practical justice
than Plato; he never reviles or belittles those men
whom he dislikes or who have in any way injured
him in the course of his life. On the contrary:
while seeing only types, he introduces something
noble and additional into all things and persons;
for what could posterity, to which he dedicates his
work, do with things not typical! Thus this cul-
ture of the disinterested knowledge of the world
attains in him, the poet-thinker, a final marvellous
bloom,—this culture which has its poet in Sopho-
cles, its statesman in Pericles, its doctor in Hippo-
crates, and its natural philosopher in Democritus:
this culture which deserves to be called by the name
of its teachers, the Sophists, and which, unhappily,
from the moment of its baptism at once begins to
grow pale and incomprehensible to us,—for hence-
forward we suspect that this culture, which was
combated by Plato and all the Socratic schools,
must have been very immoral! The truth of this
matter is so complicated and entangled that we
feel unwilling to unravel it: so let the old error
{error veritate simplicior) run its old course.
169.
The Greek Genius Foreign to us. —Oriental
or modern, Asiatic or European: compared with
the ancient Greeks, everything is characterised by
enormity of size and by the revelling in great
masses as the expression of the sublime, whilst in
## p. 173 (#212) ############################################
172
THE DAWN OF DAY.
great would be the “balance” which we should
have to forget if we wished henceforth to continue
wholesale admirers of these three great men! It
would therefore be far more advisable to profit by
the excellent opportunity offered us to try some-
thing new, i. e. to advance in the spirit of honesty
towards ourselves and become, instead of a nation
of credulous repetition and of bitter and blind ani-
mosity, a people of conditional assent and be-
nevolent opposition. We must come to learn in
the first place, however, that unconditional homage
to people is something rather ridiculous, that a
change of view on this point would not discredit
even Germans, and that there is a profound and
memorable saying: “Ce qui importe, ce ne sont
point les personnes: mais les choses. ” This say-
ing is like the man who uttered it-great, honest,
simple, and silent,—just like Carnot, the soldier
and Republican. But may I at the present time
speak thus to Germans of a Frenchman, and a
Republican into the bargain ? Perhaps not: per-
haps I must not even recall what Niebuhr in his
time dared to say to the Germans: that no one
had made such an impression of true greatnes
upon him as Carnot.
16
Lucyd
im
1
A MODEL. —What do
and how does it come t
highly than Plato ? He
spread and artless pleas
in men and events, and
osty
## p. 173 (#213) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY.
173
possessed of a certain quantity of good sense: it
is this good sense which he seeks to discover. He
likewise exhibits a larger amount of practical justice
than Plato; he never reviles or belittles those men
whom he dislikes or who have in any way injured
him in the course of his life. On the contrary :
while seeing only types, he introduces something
noble and additional into all things and persons;
for what could posterity, to which he dedicates his
work, do with things not typical! Thus this cul-
ture of the disinterested knowledge of the world
attains in him, the poet-thinker, a final marvellous
bloom,—this culture which has its poet in Sopho-
cles, its statesman in Pericles, its doctor in Hippo-
crates, and its natural philosopher in Democritus :
this culture which deserves to be called by the name
of its teachers, the Sophists, and which, unhappily,
from the moment of its baptism at once begins to
grow pale and incomprehensible to us,—for hence-
forward we suspect that this culture, which was
combated by Plato and all the Socratic schools,
must have been very immoral! The truth of this
matter is so complicated and entangled that we
feel unwilling to unravel it: so let the old error
ror veritate simplicior) run its old course.
169.
IE GREEK GENIUS FOREIGN TO US. —Oriental
oder siatic or European : compared with
ісі eks, everything is characterised by
and by the revelling in great
ression of the sublime, whilst in
## p. 174 (#214) ############################################
174 THE DAWN OF DAY.
Paestum, Pompeii, and Athens we are astonished,
when contemplating Greek architecture, to see with
what small masses the Greeks were able to express
the sublime, and how they loved to express it thus.
In the same way, how simple were the Greeks in
the idea which they formed of themselves! How
far we surpass them in the knowledge of man!
Again, how full of labyrinths would our souls and
our conceptions of our souls appear in comparison
with theirs! If we had to venture upon an archi-
tecture after the style of our own souls—(we are
too cowardly for that! )—a labyrinth would have
to be our model. That music which is peculiar
to us, and which really expresses us, lets this be
clearly seen! (for in music men let themselves go,
because they think there is no one who can see
them hiding behind their music).
170.
Another Point of View. —How we babble
about the Greeks! What do we understand of
their art, the soul of which was the passion for
naked masculine beauty! It was only by starting
therefrom that they appreciated feminine beauty.
For the latter they had thus a perspective quite
different from ours. It was the same in regard to
their love for women: their worship was of a
different kind, and so also was their contempt.
171.
The Food of the Modern Man. —He has
learned to digest many things; nay, almost every-
## p. 175 (#215) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY. 175
thing; it is his ambition to do so. He would, how-
ever, be really of a higher order if he did not under-
stand this so well: homopamphagus is not the finest
type of the human race. We live between a past
which had a more wayward and deranged taste
than we, and a future which will possibly have a
more select taste,—we live too much midway.
172.
Tragedy and Music. —Men of essentially ^
warlike disposition, such, for example, as the
ancient Greeks in the time of ^Eschylus, are
difficult to rouse, and when pity once triumphs
over their hardness they are seized as by a kind
of giddiness or a " demoniacal power,"—they feel
themselves overpowered and thrilled by a religious
horror. After this they become sceptical about
their condition; but as long as they are in it they
enjoy the charm of being, as it were, outside them-
selves, and the delight of the marvellous mixed with
the bitterest gall of suffering: this is the proper
kind of drink for fighting men,—something rare,
dangerous, and bitter-sweet, which does not often
fall to one's lot.
Tragedy appeals to souls who feel pity in this
way, to those fierce and warlike souls which are
difficult to overcome, whether by fear or pity, but
which lose nothing by being softened from time to
time. Of what use, however, is tragedy to those
who are as open to the "sympathetic affections"
as the sails of a ship to the wind! When at the
time of Plato the Athenians had become more
## p. 176 (#216) ############################################
176 THE DAWN OF DAY.
softened and sensitive, oh, how far they were still
removed from the gushing emotions of the inhabit-
ants of our modern towns and villages! And yet
even then the philosophers were beginning to com-
plain of the injurious nature of tragedy. An epoch
full of danger such as that now beginning, in which
bravery and manliness are rising in value, will
perhaps again harden souls to such an extent that
they will once more stand in need of tragic poets:
but in the meantime these are somewhat super-
fluous, to put it mildly. For music, too, a better
age may be approaching (it will certainly be a more
evil age! ) when artists will have to make their
music appeal to strongly individual beings, beings
which will have become hard and which will be
dominated by the gloomy earnestness of their own
passion; but of what use is music to the little souls
of the present age which is fast passing away, souls
that are too unsteady, ill-developed, half-personal,
inquisitive, and covetous of everything?
173-
The Flatterers of Work. —In the glorifica-
tion of" work " and the never-ceasing talk about the
"blessing of labour," I see the same secret arriere-
pensee as I do in the praise bestowed on impersonal
acts of a general interest, viz. a fear of everything
individual. For at the sight of work—that is to
say, severe toil from morning till night—we have
the feeling that it is the best police, viz. that it
holds every one in check and effectively hinders the
development of reason, of greed, and of desire for
## p. 177 (#217) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY. 177
independence. For work uses up an extraordinary
proportion of nervous force, withdrawing it from
reflection, meditation, dreams, cares, love, and
hatred; it dangles unimportant aims before the
eyes of the worker and affords easy and regular
gratification. Thus it happens that a society
where work is continually being performed will
enjoy greater security, and it is security which is
now venerated as the supreme deity. —And now,
horror of horrors! it is the "workman" himself
who has become dangerous; the whole world is
swarming with " dangerous individuals," and behind
them follows the danger of dangers—the in-
dividuum!
174.
The Moral Fashion of a Commercial
Community. —Behind the principle of the present
moral fashion: "Moral actions are actions per-
formed out of sympathy for others," I see the social
instinct of fear, which thus assumes an intellectual
disguise: this instinct sets forth as its supreme,
most important, and most immediate principle that
life shall be relieved of all the dangerous character-
istics which it possessed in former times, and that
every one must help with all his strength towards
the attainment of this end. It is for that reason
that only those actions which keep in view the
general security and the feeling of security of society
are called "good. " How little joy must men now
have in themselves when such a tyranny of fear
prescribes their supreme moral law, if they make
no objection when commanded to turn their eyes
M
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178 THE DAWN OF DAY.
from themselves and to look aside from themselves!
And yet at the same time they have lynx eyes for
all distress and suffering elsewhere! Are we not,
then, with this gigantic intention of ours of smooth-
ing down every sharp edge and corner in life, utilis-
ing the best means of turning mankind into sand!
Small, soft, round, infinite sand! Is that your
ideal, ye harbingers of the "sympathetic affec-
tions "? In the meantime even the question re-
mains unanswered whether we are of more use to
our neighbour in running immediately and con-
tinually to his help,—which for the most part can
only be done in a very superficial way, as other-
wise it would become a tyrannical meddling and
changing,—or by transforming ourselves into some-
thing which our neighbour can look upon with
pleasure,—something, for example, which may be
compared to a beautiful, quiet, and secluded garden,
protected by high walls against storms and the dust
of the roads, but likewise with a hospitable gate.
175-
Fundamental Basis of a Culture of
Traders. — We have now an opportunity of
watching the manifold growth of the culture of a
society of which commerce is the soul, just as
personal rivalry was the soul of culture among the
ancient Greeks, and war, conquest, and law among
the ancient Romans. The tradesman is able to
value everything without producing it, and to value
it according to the requirements of the consumer
rather than his own personal needs. "How many
## p. 179 (#219) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY. 179
and what class of people will consume this? " is
his question of questions. Hence, he instinctively
and incessantly employs this mode of valuation and
applies it to everything, including the productions
of art and science, and of thinkers, scholars, artists,
statesmen, nations, political parties, and even entire
ages: with respect to everything produced or
created he inquires into the supply and demand in
order to estimate for himself the value of a thing.
This, when once it has been made the principle of
an entire culture, worked out to its most minute
and subtle details, and imposed upon every kind
of will and knowledge, this is what you men of the
coming century will be proud of,—if the prophets
of the commercial classes are right in putting that
century into your possession! But I have little be-
lief in these prophets. Credat Judceus Apella—to
speak with Horace.
176.
The Criticism of our Ancestors. —Why
should we now endure the truth, even about the
most recent past? Because there is now always a
new generation which feels itself in contradiction
to the past and enjoys in this criticism the first-
fruits of its sense of power. In former times the
new generation, on the contrary, wished to base
itself on the old and began to feel conscious of its
power, not only in accepting the opinions of its
ancestors but, if possible, taking them even more
seriously. To criticise ancestral authority was in
former times a vice; but at the present time our
idealists begin by making it their starting-point.
## p. 180 (#220) ############################################
i8o THE DAWN OF DAY.
i/7-
To learn Solitude. —O ye poor fellows in
the great centres of the world's politics, ye young
and talented men, who, urged on by ambition, think
it your duty to propound your opinion of every
event of the day,—for something is always happen-
ing,—who, by thus making a noise and raising
a cloud of dust, mistake yourselves for the rolling
chariot of history; who, because ye always listen,
always suit the moment when ye can put in your
word or two, thereby lose all real productiveness.
Whatever may be your desire to accomplish great
deeds, the deep silence of pregnancy never comes
to you! The event of the day sweeps you along
like straws before the wind whilst ye lie under the
illusion that ye are chasing the event,—poor fel-
lows! If a man wishes to act the hero on the
stage he must not think of forming part of the
chorus; he should not even know how the chorus
is made up.
178.
Daily Wear and Tear. —These young men
are lacking neither in character, nor talent, nor zeal,
but they have never had sufficient time to choose
their own path; they have, on the contrary, been
habituated from the most tender age to have their
path pointed out to them. At the time when
they were ripe enough to be sent into the "desert,"
something else was done with them. They were
turned to account, estranged from themselves, and
## p. 181 (#221) ############################################
THE DAWN OF DAY. i8i
brought up in such a way that they became ac-
customed to be worn out by their daily toil. This
was imposed on them as a duty, and now they
cannot do without it; they would not wish it to be
otherwise. The only thing that cannot be refused
to these poor beasts of burden is their " holidays"
—such is the name they give to this ideal of leisure
in an overworked century; "holidays," in which
they may for once be idle, idiotic, and childish to
their heart's content.
179.
As little State as possible ! —All political
and economic matters are not of such great value
that they ought to be dealt with by the most
talented minds: such a waste of intellect is at
bottom worse than any state of distress. These
matters are, and ever will be, the province of smaller
minds, and others than the smaller minds should
not be at the service of this workshop: it would be
better to let the machinery work itself to pieces
again! But as matters stand at the present time,
when not only do all people believe that they must
know all about it day by day, but wish likewise
to be always busy about it, and in so doing neglect
their own work, it is a great and ridiculous mis-
take. The price that has to be paid for the " public
safety " is far too high, and, what is maddest of all,
we effect the very opposite of " public safety," a
fact which our own dear century has undertaken
to prove, as if this had never been proved before!
To make society secure against thieves and fire, and
to render it thoroughly fit for all kinds of trade and
## p. 182 (#222) ############################################
182 THE DAWN OF DAY.
traffic, and to transform the State in a good and
evil sense into a kind of Providence—these aims
are low, mediocre, and not by any means indis-
pensable; and we should not seek to attain them
by the aid of the highest means and instruments
which exist—means which we should reserve pre-
cisely for our highest and rarest aims! Our epoch',
however much it may babble about economy, is a
spendthrift: it wastes intellect, the most precious
thing of all.
180.
Wars. —The great wars of our own day are the
outcome of historical study.
181.
Governing. —Some people govern because of
their passion for governing; others in order that
they may not be governed,—the latter choose it as
the lesser of two evils.
182.
Rough and Ready Consistency.
