No More Learning

People gradually drew this inference, and spoke
also as they wrote,—they thus became still more
select in the forms of their words, in the choice of
their terms and modes of expression, and finally
also in their tones: they affected a court tone when
they spoke, and the affectation at last became


## p. 141 (#178) ############################################

140 THE JOYFUL WISDOM, II
express the agitation of popular masses, the tre-
mendous artificial uproar, which does not even
need to be very noisy,—while Italian opera, for
example, knows only the choruses of domestics
or soldiers, but not "the people. " There is
the additional fact that in all German music a
profound bourgeois jealousy of the noblesse can be
traced, especially a jealousy of esprit and e'Ugance,
as the expressions of a courtly, chivalrous, ancient,
and self-confident society. It is not music like
that of Goethe's musician at the gate, which was
pleasing also "in the hall," and to the king as
well; it is not here said: "The knights looked
on with martial air; with bashful eyes the
ladies. " Even the Graces are not allowed in
German music without a touch of remorse; it is
only with Pleasantness, the country sister of the
Graces that the German begins to feel morally
at ease—and from this point up to his enthusiastic,
learned, and often gruff " sublimity" (the Beethoven-
like sublimity), he feels more and more so. If we
want to imagine the man of this music,—well, let
us just imagine Beethoven as he appeared beside
Goethe, say, at their meeting at Teplitz: as semi-
barbarism beside culture, as the masses beside
the nobility, as the good-natured man beside the
good and more than "good" man, as the visionary
beside the artist, as the man needing comfort beside
the comforted, as the man given to exaggeration
and distrust beside the man of reason, as the
crank and self-tormenter, as the foolish, enraptured,
blessedly unfortunate, sincerely immoderate man,
as the pretentious and awkward man,—and alto-


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THE JOYFUL WISDOM, II 141
gether as the "untamed man ": it was thus that
Goethe conceived and characterised him, Goethe,
the exceptional German, for whom a music of
equal rank has not yet been found! — Finally,
let us consider whether the present, continually
extending contempt of melody and the stunting of
the sense for melody among Germans should not
be understood as a democratic impropriety and an
after-effect of the Revolution? For melody has
such an obvious delight in conformity to law, and
such an aversion to everything evolving, unformed
and arbitrary, that it sounds like a note out of the
ancient European regime, and as a seduction and
re-duction back to it.
104.
The Tone of the German Language. —We know
whence the German originated which for several
centuries has been the universal, literary language
of Germany. The Germans, with their reverence for
everything that came from the court, intentionally
took the chancery style as their pattern in all that
they had to write, especially in their letters, records,
wills, &c. To write in the chancery style, that was
to write in court and government style,—that was
regarded as something select compared with the
language of the city in which a person lived.
People gradually drew this inference, and spoke
also as they wrote,—they thus became still more
select in the forms of their words, in the choice of
their terms and modes of expression, and finally
also in their tones: they affected a court tone when
they spoke, and the affectation at last became


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142 THE JOYFUL WISDOM, II
natural. Perhaps nothing quite similar has ever
happened elsewhere:—the predominance of the
literary style over the talk, and the formality and
affectation of an entire people, becoming the basis
of a common and no longer dialectical language.
I believe that the sound of the German language
in the Middle Ages, and especially after the Middle
Ages, was extremely rustic and vulgar; it has
ennobled itself somewhat during the last centuries,
principally because it was found necessary to
imitate so many French, Italian, and Spanish
sounds, and particularly on the part of the German
(and Austrian) nobility, who could not at all
content themselves with their mother-tongue. But
notwithstanding this practice, German must have
sounded intolerably vulgar to Montaigne, and even
to Racine: even at present, in the mouths of
travellers among the Italian populace, it still sounds
very coarse, sylvan, and hoarse, as if it had origi-
nated in smoky rooms and outlandish districts. —
Now I notice that at present a similar striving
after selectness of tone is spreading among
the former admirers of the chancery style, and
that the Germans are beginning to accommodate
themselves to a peculiar " witchery of sound," which
might in the long run become an actual danger to
the German language,—for one may seek in vain
for more execrable sounds in Europe. Something
mocking, cold, indifferent, and careless in the
voice: that is what at present sounds "noble"
to the Germans — and I hear the approval of
this nobleness in the voices of young officials,
teachers, women, and trades-people; indeed, even


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THE JOYFUL WISDOM, II 143
the little girls already imitate this German of the
officers. For the officer, and in fact the Prussian
officer is the inventor of these tones: this same
officer, who, as soldier and professional man pos-
sesses that admirable tact for modesty which the
Germans as a whole might well imitate (German
professors and musicians included ! ). But as soon
as he speaks and moves he is the most immodest
and inelegant figure in old Europe — no doubt
unconsciously to himself! And unconsciously also
to the good Germans, who gaze at him as the man
of the foremost and most select society, and
willingly let him " give them his tone. " And indeed
he gives it to them! —in the first place it is the
sergeant-majors and non-commissioned officers that
imitate his tone and coarsen it. One should note
the roars of command, with which the German
cities are absolutely surrounded at present, when
there is drilling at all the gates: what presump-
tion, furious imperiousness, and mocking coldness
speaks in this uproar! Could the Germans
actually be a musical people? —It is certain that
the Germans martialise themselves at present in
the tone of their language: it is probable that, being
exercised to speak martially, they will finally write
martially also. For habituation to definite tones
extends deeply into the character:—people soon
have the words and modes of expression, and finally
also the thoughts which just suit these tones!
Perhaps they already write in the officers' style;
perhaps I only read too little of what is at present
written in Germany to know this. But one thing
I know all the surer: the German public declara-


## p. 144 (#182) ############################################

144 THE JOYFUL WISDOM, II
tions which also reach places abroad, are not
inspired by German music, but just by that new
tone of tasteless arrogance. Almost in every
speech of the foremost German statesman, and
even when he makes himself heard through his
imperial mouth-piece, there is an accent which the
ear of a foreigner repudiates with aversion: but
the Germans endure it,—they endure themselves.
IOS.
The Germans as Artists. —When once a German
actually experiences passion (and not only, as is
usual, the mere inclination to it), he then behaves
just as he must do in passion, and does not think
further of his behaviour. The truth is, however,
that he then behaves very awkwardly and uglily,
and as if destitute of rhythm and melody; so
that onlookers are pained or moved thereby, but
nothing more—unless he elevate himself to the
sublimity and enrapturedness of which certain
passions are capable. Then even the German
becomes beautiful. The perception of the height
at which beauty begins to shed its charm even
over Germans, raises German artists to the height,
to the supreme height, and to the extravagances of
passion: they have an actual, profound longing,
therefore, to get beyond, or at least to look beyond
the ugliness and awkwardness — into a better,
easier, more southern, more sunny world. And
thus their convulsions are often merely indications
that they would like to dance: these poor bears in
whom hidden nymphs and satyrs, and sometimes
still higher divinities, carry on their game!


## p. 145 (#183) ############################################

THE JOYFUL WISDOM, II I45
106.
Music as Advocate. —" I have a longing for a
master of the musical art," said an innovator to
his disciple, " that he may learn from me my ideas
and speak them more widely in his language: I
shall thus be better able to reach men's ears and
hearts. For by means of tones one can seduce
men to every error and every truth: who could
refute a tone ? "—" You would, therefore, like to be
regarded as irrefutable? " said his disciple. The
innovator answered: "I should like the germ to
become a tree. In order that a doctrine may
become a tree, it must be believed in for a con-
siderable period; in order that it may be believed
in it must be regarded as irrefutable. Storms and
doubts and worms and wickedness are necessary
to the tree, that it may manifest its species and
the strength of its germ; let it perish if it is not
strong enough! But a germ is always merely
annihilated,—not refuted ! "—When he had said
this, his disciple called out impetuously: "But I
believe in your cause, and regard it as so strong
that I will say everything against it, everything
that I still have in my heart. "—The innovator
laughed to himself and threatened the disciple with
his finger. "This kind of discipleship," said he
then, "is the best, but it is dangerous, and not
every kind of doctrine can stand it. "
^ 107.
Our Ultimate Gratitude to Art. —If we had not
approved of the Arts and invented this sort of cult


## p. 145 (#184) ############################################

144
tions
inspire
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imperia
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becomes beaut
at which beaut
over Germans, 1
to the supreme
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therefore, to get 1
the ugliness and
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thus their convulsi
that they would lil
whom hidden nym
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E
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th, and are rather velgtis
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We need all arrogant, svart
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stion or things which our
d be backsliding for us



## p. 145 (#185) ############################################

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## p. 146 (#186) ############################################

146 THE JOYFUL WISDOM, II
of the untrue, the insight into the general untruth
and falsity of things now given us by science—
an insight into delusion and error as conditions
of intelligent and sentient existence—would be
quite unendurable. Honesty would have disgust
and suicide in its train. Now, however, our
honesty has a counterpoise which helps us to
escape such consequences;—namely, Art, as the
good-will to illusion. We do not always restrain
our eyes from rounding off and perfecting in
imagination: and then it is no longer the eternal
imperfection that we carry over the river of
Becoming—for we think we carry a goddess, and
are proud and artless in rendering this service. As
an aesthetic phenomenon existence is still endurable
to us; and by Art, eye and hand and above all the
good conscience are given to us, to be able to make
such a phenomenon out of ourselves. We must
rest from ourselves occasionally by contemplating
and looking down upon ourselves, and by laughing
or weeping over ourselves from an artistic remote-
ness: we must discover the hero, and likewise the
fool, that is hidden in our passion for knowledge;
we must now and then be joyful in our folly, that
we may continue to be joyful in our wisdom!
And just because we are heavy and serious men
in our ultimate depth, and are rather weights than
men, there is nothing that does us so much good
as the foots cap and bells: we need them in pre-
sence of ourselves—we need all arrogant, soaring,
dancing, mocking, childish and blessed Art, in order
not to lose the free dominion over things which our
ideal demands of us. It would be backsliding for us,


## p. 147 (#187) ############################################

THE JOYFUL WISDOM, II I47
with our susceptible integrity, to lapse entirely into
morality, and actually become virtuous monsters
and scarecrows, on account of the over-strict
requirements which we here lay down for our-
selves. We ought also to be able to stand above
morality, and not only stand with the painful
stiffness of one who every moment fears to slip and
fall, but we should also be able to soar and play
above it! How could we dispense with Art for
that purpose, how could we dispense with the fool?
—And as long as you are still ashamed of your-
selves in any way, you still do not belong to us!


## p. 148 (#188) ############################################



## p. 149 (#189) ############################################

BOOK THIRD
149


## p. 150 (#190) ############################################



## p. 151 (#191) ############################################

1o8.
New Struggles. —After Buddha was dead people
showed his shadow for centuries afterwards in a
cave,—an immense frightful shadow. God is dead:
but as the human race is constituted, there will
perhaps be caves for millenniums yet, in which
people will show his shadow. —And we—we have
still to overcome his shadow!
109.
Let us be on our Guard. —Let us be on our guard
against thinking that the world is a living being.
Where could it extend itself? What could it
nourish itself with? How could it grow and
increase? We know tolerably well what the
organic is; and we are to reinterpret the emphati-
cally derivative, tardy, rare and accidental, which
we only perceive on the crust of the earth, into the
essential, universal and eternal, as those do who
call the universe an organism? That disgusts me.
Let us now be on our guard against believing that
the universe is a machine; it is assuredly not con-
structed with a view to one end; we invest it with
far too high an honour with the word "machine. "
Let us be on our guard against supposing that
anything so methodical as the cyclic motions of
our neighbouring stars obtains generally and
throughout the universe; indeed a glance at the


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152 THE JOYFUL WISDOM, III
Milky Way induces doubt as to whether there are
not many cruder and more contradictory motions
there, and even stars with continuous, rectilinearly
gravitating orbits, and the like. The astral arrange-
ment in which we live is an exception; this
arrangement, and the relatively long durability
which is determined by it, has again made possible
the exception of exceptions, the formation of
organic life. The general character of the world,
on the other hand, is to all eternity chaos; not by
the absence of necessity, but in the sense of the
absence of order, structure, form, beauty, wisdom,
and whatever else our aesthetic humanities are
called. Judged by our reason, the unlucky casts
are far oftenest the rule, the exceptions are not the
secret purpose; and the whole musical box repeats
eternally its air, which can never be called a melody,
—and finally the very expression, " unlucky cast"
is already an anthropomorphising which involves
blame. But how could we presume to blame or
praise the universe! Let us be on our guard
against ascribing to it heartlessness and unreason,
or their opposites; it is neither perfect, nor beauti-
ful, nor noble; nor does it seek to be anything of
the kind, it does not at all attempt to imitate
man! It is altogether unaffected by our aesthetic
and moral judgments! Neither has it any self-
preservative instinct, nor instinct at all; it also
knows no law. Let us be on our guard against
saying that there arc laws in nature. There are
only necessities: there is no one who commands,
no one who obeys, no one who transgresses.
When you know that there is no design, you know


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THE JOYFUL WISDOM, III 153
also that there is no chance: for it is only
where there is a world of design that the word
"chance" has a meaning. Let us be on our guard
against saying that death is contrary to life. The
living being is only a species of dead being, and
a very rare species. — Let us be on our guard
against thinking that the world eternally creates
the new. There are no eternally enduring
substances; matter is just another such error as
the God of the Eleatics. But when shall we be at
an end with our foresight and precaution! When
will all these shadows of God cease to obscure us?
When shall we have nature entirely undeified!
When shall we be permitted to naturalise our-
selves by means of the pure, newly discovered,
newly redeemed nature?
no.
Origin of Knowledge. —Throughout immense
stretches of time the intellect has produced nothing
but errors; some of them proved to be useful and
preservative of the species: he who fell in with
them, or inherited them, waged the battle for him-
self and his offspring with better success. Those
erroneous articles of faith which were successively
transmitted by inheritance, and have finally become
almost the property and stock of the human
species, are, for example, the following :—that there
are enduring things, that there are equal things,
that there are things, substances, and bodies, that
a thing is what it appears, that our will is free,
that what is good for me is also good abso-
lutely. It was only very late that the deniers and


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154 THE JOYFUL WISDOM, III
doubters of such propositions came forward,—
it was only very late that truth made its appear-
ance as the most impotent form of knowledge. It
seemed as if it were impossible to get along with
truth, our organism was adapted for the very
opposite; all its higher functions, the perceptions
of the senses, and in general every kind of sensation
co-operated with those primevally embodied, funda-
mental errors. Moreover, those propositions became
the very standards of knowledge according to which
the "true" and the "false" were determined—
throughout the whole domain of pure logic. The
strength of conceptions does not, therefore, depend
on their degree of truth, but on their antiquity,
their embodiment, their character as conditions of
life. Where life and knowledge seemed to con-
flict, there has never been serious contention;
denial and doubt have there been regarded
as madness. The exceptional thinkers like the
Eleatics, who, in spite of this, advanced and main-
tained the antitheses of the natural errors, believed
that it was possible also to live these counterparts:
it was they who devised the sage as the man
of immutability, impersonality and universality of
intuition, as one and all at the same time, with
a special faculty for that reverse kind of knowledge;
they were of the belief that their knowledge was
at the same time the principle of life. To be able
to affirm all this, however, they had to deceive them-
selves concerning their own condition: they had
to attribute to themselves impersonality and un-
changing permanence, they had to mistake the
nature of the philosophic individual, deny the force


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THE JOYFUL WISDOM, III 155
of the impulses in cognition, and conceive of reason
generally as an entirely free and self-originating
activity; they kept their eyes shut to the fact that
they also had reached their doctrines in contradiction
to valid methods, or through their longing for repose
or for exclusive possession or for domination. The
subtler development of sincerity and of scepticism
finally made these men impossible; their life also
and their judgments turned out to be dependent
on the primeval impulses and fundamental errors
of all sentient being. —The subtler sincerity and
scepticism arose whenever two antithetical maxims
appeared to be applicable to life, because both of
them were compatible with the fundamental errors;
where, therefore, there could be contention con-
cerning a higher or lower degree of utility for life;
and likewise where new maxims proved to be, not
in fact useful, but at least not injurious, as ex-
pressions of an intellectual impulse to play a game
that was, like all games, innocent and happy.
The human brain was gradually filled with such
judgments and convictions; and in this tangled
skein there arose ferment, strife and lust for power.
Not only utility and delight, but every kind of
impulse took part in the struggle for " truths ": the
intellectual struggle became a business, an attrac-
tion, a calling, a duty, an honour—: cognizing and
striving for the true finally arranged themselves as
needs among other needs. From that moment,
not only belief and conviction, but also examination,
denial, distrust and contradiction became forces;
all "evil "instincts were subordinated to know-
ledge, were placed in its service, and acquired the


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156 THE JOYFUL WISDOM, III
prestige of the permitted, the honoured, the useful,
and finally the appearance and innocence of the
good. Knowledge, thus became a portion of life
itself, and as life it became a continually growing
power: until finally the cognitions and those
primeval, fundamental errors clashed with each
other, both as life, both as power, both in the
same man. The thinker is now the being in
whom the impulse to truth and those life-
preserving errors wage their first conflict, now
that the impulse to truth has also proved itself
to be a life-preserving power. In comparison with
the importance of this conflict everything else is
indifferent; the final question concerning the con-
ditions of life is here raised, and the first attempt
is here made to answer it by experiment. How
far is truth susceptible of embodiment? —that is
the question, that is the experiment.
III.
Origin of the Logical. —Where has logic origin-
ated in men's heads? Undoubtedly out of the
illogical, the domain of which must originally
have been immense. But numberless beings who
reasoned otherwise than we do at present, perished;
albeit that they may have come nearer to truth
than we! Whoever, for example, could not discern
the " like " often enough with regard to food, and
with regard to animals dangerous to him, whoever,
therefore, deduced too slowly, or was too circum-
spect in his deductions, had smaller probability of
survival than he who in all similar things immedi-
ately divined the equality. The preponderating


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THE JOYFUL WISDOM, III 157
inclination, however, to deal with the similar as
the equal—an illogical inclination, for there is no-
thing equal in itself—first created the whole basis
of logic. It was just so (in order that the con-
ception of substance might originate, this being
indispensable to logic, although in the strictest
sense nothing actual corresponds to it) that for a
long period the changing process in things had to
be overlooked, and remain unperceived ; the beings
not seeing correctly had an advantage over those
who saw everything "in flux. " In itself every
high degree of circumspection in conclusions, every
sceptical inclination, is a great danger to life. No
living being would have been preserved unless the
contrary inclination—to affirm rather than suspend
judgment, to mistake and fabricate rather than wait,
to assent rather than deny, to decide rather than
be in the right—had been cultivated with extra-
ordinary assiduity. —The course of logical thought
and reasoning in our modern brain corresponds to
a process and struggle of impulses, which singly
and in themselves are all very illogical and un-
just; we experience usually only the result of the
struggle, so rapidly and secretly does this primitive
mechanism now operate in us.
112.
Cause and Effect. —We say it is "explanation ";
but it is only in "description" that we are in
advance of the older stages of knowledge and
science. We describe better,—we explain just as
little as our predecessors. We have discovered a
manifold succession where the naive man and


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156 THE JOYFUL WISDOM, III
prestige of the permitted, the honoured, the useful,
and finally the appearance and innocence of the
good. Knowledge, thus became a portion of life
itself, and as life it became a continually growing
power: until finally the cognitions and those
primeval, fundamental errors clashed with each
other, both as life, both as power, both in the
same man. The thinker is now the being in
whom the impulse to truth and those life-
preserving errors wage their first conflict, now
that the impulse to truth has also proved itself
to be a life-preserving power. In comparison with
the importance of this conflict everything else is
indifferent; the final question concerning the con-
ditions of life is here raised, and the first attempt
is here made to answer it by experiment. How
far is truth susceptible of embodiment ? —that is
the question, that is the experiment.
in.
Origin of the Logical. —Where has logic origin-
ated in men's heads? Undoubtedly out of the
illogical, the domain of which must originally
have been immense. But numberless beings who
reasoned otherwise than we do at present, perished;
albeit that they may have come nearer to truth
than we! Whoever, for example, could not discern
the " like " often enough with regard to food, and
with regard to animals dangerous to him, whoever,
therefore, deduced too slowly, or was too circum-
spect in his deductions, had smaller probability of
survival than he who in all similar things immedi-
ately divined the equality. The preponderating


## p. 157 (#199) ############################################

THE JOYFUL WISDOM, III 157
inclination, however, to deal with the similar as
the equal—an illogical inclination, for there is no-
thing equal in itself—first created the whole basis
of logic. It was just so (in order that the con-
ception of substance might originate, this being
indispensable to logic, although in the strictest
sense nothing actual corresponds to it) that for a
long period the changing process in things had to
be overlooked, and remain unperceived; the beings
not seeing correctly had an advantage over those
who saw everything "in flux. " In itself every
high degree of circumspection in conclusions, every
sceptical inclination, is a great danger to life. No
living being would have been preserved unless the
contrary inclination—to affirm rather than suspend
judgment, to mistake and fabricate rather than wait,
to assent rather than deny, to decide rather than
be in the right—had been cultivated with extra-
ordinary assiduity. —The course of logical thought
and reasoning in our modern brain corresponds to
a process and struggle of impulses, which singly
and in themselves are all very illogical and un-
just; we experience usually only the result of the
struggle, so rapidly and secretly does this primitive
mechanism now operate in us.
112.
Cause and Effect. —We say it is " explanation ";
but it is only in "description" that we are in
advance of the older stages of knowledge and
science. We describe better,—we explain just as
little as our predecessors. We have discovered a
manifold succession where the naive man and


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158 THE JOYFUL WISDOM, III
investigator of older cultures saw only two things,
"cause" and " effect," as it was said; we have per-
fected the conception of becoming, but have not
got a knowledge of what is above and behind the
conception.
The series of " causes " stands before
us much more complete in every case ; we conclude
that this and that must first precede in order that
that other may follow—but we have not grasped
anything thereby. The peculiarity, for example, in
every chemical process seems a " miracle," the same
as before, just like all locomotion; nobody has
"explained " impulse. How could we ever explain!
We operate only with things which do not exist,
with lines, surfaces, bodies, atoms, divisible times,
divisible spaces—how can explanation ever be
possible when we first make everything a conception,
our conception! It is sufficient to regard science
as the exactest humanising of things that is
possible; we always learn to describe ourselves
more accurately by describing things and their
successions. Cause and effect: there is probably
never any such duality; in fact there is a continuum
before us, from which we isolate a few portions ;—
just as we always observe a motion as isolated
points, and therefore do not properly see it, but
infer it. The abruptness with which many effects
take place leads us into error; it is however only
an abruptness for us. There is an infinite multitude
of processes in that abrupt moment which escape
us. An intellect which could see cause and effect
as a continuum, which could see the flux of events
not according to our mode of perception, as things
arbitrarily separated and broken—would throw aside


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THE JOYFUL WISDOM, III 159
the conception of cause and effect, and would deny
all conditionality.
The Theory of Poisons. —So many things have
to be united in order that scientific thinking may
arise, and all the necessary powers must have
been devised, exercised, and fostered singly! In
their isolation, however, they have very often had
quite a different effect than at present, when they
are confined within the limits of scientific thinking
and kept mutually in check :—they have operated
as poisons; for example, the doubting impulse, the
denying impulse, the waiting impulse, the collect-
ing impulse, the disintegrating impulse. Many
hecatombs of men were sacrificed ere these impulses
learned to understand their juxtaposition and
regard themselves as functions of one organising
force in one man! And how far are we still from
the point at which the artistic powers and the prac-
tical wisdom of life shall co-operate with scientific
thinking, so that a higher organic system may be
formed, in relation to which the scholar, the physi-
cian, the artist, and the lawgiver, as we know them
at present, will seem sorry antiquities!
114.
The Extent of the Moral. —We construct a new
picture, which we see immediately with the aid
of all the old experiences which we have had,
always according to the degree of our honesty and
justice. The only events are moral events, even in
the domain of sense-perception.


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158 THE JOYFUL WISDOM, III
investigator of older cultures saw only two things,
"cause" and "effect," as it was said; we have per-
fected the conception of becoming, but have not
got a knowledge of what is above and behind the
conception. The series of " causes" stands before
us much more complete in every case ; we conclude
that this and that must first precede in order that
that other may follow—but we have not grasped
anything thereby. The peculiarity, for example, in
every chemical process seems a " miracle," the same
as before, just like all locomotion; nobody has
"explained " impulse. How could we ever explain!
We operate only with things which do not exist,
with lines, surfaces, bodies, atoms, divisible times,
divisible spaces—how can explanation ever be
possible when we first make everything a conception,
our conception! It is sufficient to regard science
as the exactest humanising of things that is
possible; we always learn to describe ourselves
more accurately by describing things and their
successions. Cause and effect: there is probably
never any such duality; in fact there is a continuum
before us, from which we isolate a few portions ;—
just as we always observe a motion as isolated
points, and therefore do not properly see it, but
infer it. The abruptness with which many effects
take place leads us into error; it is however only
an abruptness for us. There is an infinite multitude
of processes in that abrupt moment which escape
us. An intellect which could see cause and effect
as a continuum, which could see the flux of events
not according to our mode of perception, as things
arbitrarily separated and broken—would throw aside
r
1


## p. 159 (#203) ############################################

\
■
THE JOYFUL WISDOM, III 159
the conception of cause and effect, and would deny
all conditionality.
"3-
The Theory of Poisons. —So many things have
to be united in order that scientific thinking may
arise, and all the necessary powers must have
been devised, exercised, and fostered singly! In
their isolation, however, they have very often had
quite a different effect than at present, when they
are confined within the limits of scientific thinking
and kept mutually in check :—they have operated
as poisons; for example, the doubting impulse, the
denying impulse, the waiting impulse, the collect-
ing impulse, the disintegrating impulse. Many
hecatombs of men were sacrificed ere these impulses
learned to understand their juxtaposition and
regard themselves as functions of one organising
force in one man! And how far are we still from
the point at which the artistic powers and the prac-
tical wisdom of life shall co-operate with scientific
thinking, so that a higher organic system may be
formed, in relation to which the scholar, the physi-
cian, the artist, and the lawgiver, as we know them
at present, will seem sorry antiquities!
114.
The Extent of the Moral. —We construct a new
picture, which we see immediately with the aid
of all the old experiences which we have had,
always according to the degree of our honesty and
justice. The only events are moral events, even in
the domain of sense-perception.


## p. 160 (#204) ############################################

IOO THE JOYFUL WISDOM, III
/'
115.
The Four Errors. —Man has been reared by his
errors: firstly, he saw himself always imperfect;
secondly, he attributed to himself imaginary
qualities; thirdly, he felt himself in a false position
in relation to the animals and nature; fourthly, he
always devised new tables of values, and accepted
them for a time as eternal and unconditioned, so
that at one time this, and at another time that
human impulse or state stood first, and was en-
nobled in consequence. When one has deducted
the effect of these four errors, one has also deducted
humanity, humaneness, and "human dignity. "
116.
Herd-Instinct. — Wherever we meet with a
morality we find a valuation and order of rank
of the human impulses and activities. These
valuations and orders of rank are always the
expression of the needs of a community or herd:
that which is in the first place to its advantage—
and in the second place and third place—is also
the authoritative standard for the worth of every
individual. By morality the individual is taught
to become a function of the herd, and to ascribe to
himself value only as a function. As the condi-
tions for the maintenance of one community have
been very different from those of another com-
munity, there have been very different moralities;
and in respect to the future essential transforma-
tions of herds and communities, states and societies,
one can prophesy that there will still be very diver-


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THE JOYFUL WISDOM, III l6l
gent moralities. Morality is the herd-instinct in
the individual.
117.
The Herd's Sting of Conscience. —In the longest
and remotest ages of the human race there was
quite a different sting of conscience from that of
the present day. At present one only feels respon-
sible for what one intends and for what one does,
and we have our pride in ourselves. All our pro-
fessors of jurisprudence start with this sentiment
of individual independence and pleasure, as if the
source of right had taken its rise here from the
beginning. But throughout the longest period in
the life of mankind there was nothing more terrible
to a person than to feel himself independent. To
be alone, to feel independent, neither to obey nor
to rule, to represent an individual—that was no
pleasure to a person then, but a punishment; he
was condemned "to be an individual. " Freedom
of thought was regarded as discomfort personified.
While we feel law and regulation as constraint and
loss, people formerly regarded egoism as a painful
thing, and a veritable evil. For a person to
be himself, to value himself according to his own
measure and weight—that was then quite distaste-
ful. The inclination to such a thing would have
been regarded as madness; for all miseries and
terrors were associated with being alone. At that
time the "free will" had bad conscience in close
proximity to it; and the less independently a
person acted, the more the herd-instinct, and not
his personal character, expressed itself in his
11


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162 THE JOYFUL WISDOM, III
conduct, so much the more moral did he esteem
himself. All that did injury to the herd, whether
the individual had intended it or not, then caused
him a sting of conscience—and his neighbour like-
wise, indeed the whole herd ! —It is in this respect
that we have most changed our mode of thinking.
118.
Benevolence. —Is it virtuous when a cell trans-
forms itself into the function of a stronger cell? It
must do so. And is it wicked when the stronger one
assimilates the other? It must do so likewise: it
is necessary, for it has to have abundant indemnity
and seeks to regenerate itself. One has there-
fore to distinguish the instinct of appropriation,
and the instinct of submission, in benevolence,
according as the stronger or the weaker feels
benevolent. Gladness and covetousness are united
in the stronger person, who wants to trans-
form something to his function: gladness and
desire-to-be-coveted in the weaker person, who
would like to become a function. —The former
case is essentially pity, a pleasant excitation of
the instinct of appropriation at the sight of the
weaker: it is to be remembered, however, that
"strong" and "weak " are relative conceptions.
119.
No Altruism ! —I see in many men an excessive
impulse and delight in wanting to be a function;
they strive after it, and have the keenest scent
for all those positions in which precisely they
themselves can be functions. Among such persons


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THE JOYFUL WISDOM, III 163
are those women who transform themselves into
just that function of a man that is but weakly
developed in him, and then become his purse, or
his politics, or his social intercourse. Such beings
maintain themselves best when they insert them-
selves in an alien organism; if they do not
succeed they become vexed, irritated, and eat
themselves up.
120.
Health of the Soul. —The favourite medico-moral
formula (whose originator was Ariston of Chios),
"Virtue is the health of the soul," would, at least
in order to be used, have to be altered to this:
"Thy virtue is the health of thy soul. " For there
is no such thing as health in itself, and all attempts
to define a thing in that way have lamentably
failed. It is necessary to know thy aim, thy
horizon, thy powers, thy impulses, thy errors, and
especially the ideals and fantasies of thy soul, in
order to determine what health implies even for thy
body. There are consequently innumerable kinds of
physical health; and the more one again permits
the unique and unparalleled to raise its head, the
more one unlearns the dogma of the "Equality of
men," so much the more also must the conception
of a normal health, together with a normal diet and
a normal course of disease, be abrogated by our
physicians. And then only would it be time to
turn our thoughts to the health and disease of
the soul and make the special virtue of everyone
consist in its health; but, to be sure, what appeared
as health in one person might appear as the con-


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164 THE JOYFUL WISDOM, III
trary of health in another. In the end the great
question might still remain open : whether we could
do without sickness, even for the development of
our virtue, and whether our thirst for knowledge
and self-knowledge would not especially need the
sickly soul as well as the sound one; in short,
whether the mere will to health is not a prejudice,
a cowardice, and perhaps an instance of the subtlest
barbarism and unprogressiveness.
121.
Life no Argument. —We have arranged for our-
selves a world in which we can live—by the
postulating of bodies, lines, surfacesK causes and
effects, motion and rest, form and content: without
these articles of faith no one could manage to live
at present! But for all that they are still unproved.
Life is no argument; error might be among the
conditions of life.
122.
The Element of Moral Scepticism in Christianity.
—Christianity also has made a great contribution
to enlightenment, and has taught moral scepticism
in a very impressive and effective manner—
accusing and embittering, but with untiring
patience and subtlety; it annihilated in every
individual the belief in his virtues: it made the
great virtuous ones, of whom antiquity had no lack,
vanish for ever from the earth, those popular men,
who, in the belief in their perfection, walked about
with the dignity of a hero of the bull-fight. When,
trained in this Christian school of scepticism, we


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THE JOYFUL WISDOM, III l6$
now read the moral books of the ancients, for
example those of Seneca and Epictetus, we feel
a pleasurable superiority, and are full of secret
insight and penetration,—it seems to us as if a child
talked before an old man, or a pretty, gushing girl
before La Rochefoucauld :—we know better what
virtue is! After all, however, we have applied the
same scepticism to all religious states and processes,
such as sin, repentance, grace, sanctification, &c, and
have allowed the worm to burrow so well, that we
have now the same feeling of subtle superiority and
insight even in reading all Christian books:—we
know also the religious feelings better! And it is
time to know them well and describe them well,
for the pious ones of the old belief die out also;
let us save their likeness and type, at least for the
sake of knowledge.
123.
Knowledge more than a Means. —Also without
this passion—I refer to the passion for knowledge
—science would be furthered: science has hitherto
increased and grown up without it. The good
faith in science, the prejudice in its favour, by
which States are at present dominated (it was even
the Church formerly), rests fundamentally on the
fact that the absolute inclination and impulse has
so rarely revealed itself in it, and that science
is regarded not as a passion, but as a condition
and an "ethos. " Indeed, amour-plaisir of know-
ledge (curiosity) often enough suffices, amour-vanitc
suffices, and habituation to it, with the afterthought
of obtaining honour and bread; it even suffices


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166 THE JOYFUL WISDOM, III
for many that they do not know what to do with
a surplus of leisure, except to continue reading,
collecting, arranging, observing and narrating; their
"scientific impulse" is their ennui. Pope Leo X.
once (in the brief to Beroaldus) sang the praise of
science; he designated it as the finest ornament
and the greatest pride of our life, a noble employ-
ment in happiness and in misfortune ; " without it,"
he says finally, "all human undertakings would be
without a firm basis,—even with it they are still
sufficiently mutable and insecure! " But this rather
sceptical Pope, like all other ecclesiastical pane-
gyrists of science, suppressed his ultimate judg-
ment concerning it. If one may deduce from his
words what is remarkable enough for such a lover
of art, that he places science above art, it is after
all, however, only from politeness that he omits to
speak of that which he places high above all science:
the "revealed truth," and the "eternal salvation of
the soul,"—what are ornament, pride, entertainment
and security of life to him, in comparison thereto?
"Science is something of secondary rank, nothing
ultimate or unconditioned, no object of passion "—
this judgment was kept back in Leo's soul: the
truly Christian judgment concerning science! In
antiquity its dignity and appreciation were lessened
by the fact that, even among its most eager
disciples, the striving after virtue stood foremost,
and that people thought they had given the highest
praise to knowledge when they celebrated it as the
best means to virtue. It is something new in
history that knowledge claims to be more than
a means.


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THE JOYFUL WISDOM, III 167
124.
In the Horizon of the Infinite. —We have left the
land and have gone aboard ship! We have broken
down the bridge behind us,—nay, more, the land
behind us! Well, little ship! look out! Beside
thee is the ocean; it is true it does not always
roar, and sometimes it spreads out like silk and
gold and a gentle reverie. But times will come
when thou wilt feel that it is infinite, and that
there is nothing more frightful than infinity. Oh,
the poor bird that felt itself free, and now strikes
against the walls of this cage! Alas, if home-
sickness for the land should attack thee, as if there
had been more freedom there,—and there is no
"land " any longer!
125.
The Madman. — Have you ever heard of the
madman who on a bright morning lighted a lantern
and ran to the market-place calling out unceasingly:
"I seek God! I seek God ! "—As there were many
people standing about who did not believe in God,
he caused a great deal of amusement. Why! is
he lost? said one. Has he strayed away like a
child? said another. Or does he keep himself
hidden? Is he afraid of us? Has he taken a sea-
voyage? Has he emigrated ? — the people cried
out laughingly, all in a hubbub. The insane man
jumped into their midst and transfixed them with
his glances. "Where is God gone? " he called out.
"I mean to tell you! We have killed him,—you
and I! We are all his murderers! But how have
we done it? How were we able to drink up the


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168 THE JOYFUL WISDOM, III
sea? Who gave us the sponge to wipe away the
whole horizon? What did we do when we loosened
this earth from its sun? Whither does it now
move? Whither do we move? Away from all
suns? Do we not dash on unceasingly? Back-
wards, sideways, forewards, in all directions? Is
there still an above and below? Do we not stray,
as through infinite nothingness? Does not empty
space breathe upon us? Has it not become colder?
Does not night come on continually, darker and
darker? Shall we not have to light lanterns in
the morning? Do we not hear the noise of the
grave-diggers who are burying God? Do we not
smell the divine putrefaction ? — for even Gods
putrefy! God is dead! God remains dead! And
we have killed him! How shall we console our-
selves, the most murderous of all murderers? The
holiest and the mightiest that the world has hitherto
possessed, has bled to death under our knife,—who
will wipe the blood from us? With what water
could we cleanse ourselves? What lustrums, what
sacred games shall we have to devise? Is not the
magnitude of this deed too great for us? Shall we
not ourselves have to become Gods, merely to seem
worthy of it? There never was a greater event,—
and on account of it, all who are born after us
belong to a higher history than any history
hitherto! " — Here the madman was silent and
looked again at his hearers; they also were silent
and looked at him in surprise. At last he threw
his lantern on the ground, so that it broke in
pieces and was extinguished. "I come too early,"
he then said, " I am not yet at the right time. This


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THE JOYFUL WISDOM, III 169
prodigious event is still on its way, and is travelling,
—it has not yet reached men's ears. Lightning
and thunder need time, the light of the stars needs
time, deeds need time, even after they are done, to
be seen and heard. This deed is as yet further
from them than the furthest star,—and yet they have
done it! "—It is further stated that the madman
made his way into different churches on the same
day, and there intoned his Requiem aeternam deo.
When led out and called to account, he always gave
the reply: "What are these churches now, if they
are not the tombs and monuments of God ? "—
126.
Mystical Explanations. —Mystical explanations
are regarded as profound; the truth is that they do
not even go the length of being superficial.
127.
After-Effect of the most Ancient Religiousness. —
The thoughtless man thinks that the Will is the
only thing that operates, that willing is something
simple, manifestly given, underived, and comprehen-
sible in itself. He is convinced that when he does
anything, for example, when he delivers a blow,
it is he who strikes, and he has struck because
he willed to strike. He does not notice any-
thing of a problem therein, but the feeling of
willing suffices to him, not only for the acceptance
of cause and effect, but also for the belief that he
understands their relationship. Of the mechanism
of the occurrence and of the manifold subtle opera-


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170 THE JOYFUL WISDOM, III
tions that must be performed in order that the
blow may result, and likewise of the incapacity
of the Will in itself to effect even the smallest part
of those operations—he knows nothing. The Will
is to him a magically operating force; the belief
in the Will as the cause of effects is the belief in
magicallyoperating forces. In fact, whenever he saw
anything happen, man originally believed in a Will
as cause, and in personally willing beings operating
in the background,—the conception of mechanism
was very remote from him. Because, however, man
for immense periods of time believed only in
persons (and not in matter, forces, things, &c),
the belief in cause and effect has become a funda-
mental belief with him, which he applies every-
where when anything happens,—and even still uses
instinctively as a piece of atavism of remotest origin.
The propositions, " No effect without a cause," and
"Every effect again implies a cause," appear as
generalisations of several less general propositions:
—"Where there is operation there has been willing"
"Operating is only possible on willing beings.