soul are little by little
laboriously
acquired, through great industry, self-control, and keeping one's self within narrow bounds, through
' frequent, energetic, and genuine repetition of the
?
' frequent, energetic, and genuine repetition of the
?
Nietzsche - Works - v15 - Will to Power - b
It is because the great man has cost so much, and not because he stands there as a miracle, as a gift from heaven, or as an accident, that he became great: "Heredity" is a false notion.
A man's ancestors have always paid the price of what he is.
970.
The danger of modesty. ---To adapt ourselves too early to duties, societies, and daily schemes of work in which accident may have placed us, at a time when neither our powers nor our aim in life has stepped peremptorily into our consciousness;
* This not only refers to Heroes and Hero-Worship, but doubtless to Carlyle's prodigious misunderstanding of Goethe --a misunderstanding which still requires to be put right by a critic untainted by PuritanisIIL--TR.
371
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the premature certainty of conscience and feeling of relief and *Of sociability which is acquired by this precocious, modest attitude, and which appears to our minds as a deliverance from those inner and outer disturbances Of our feelings--all this pampers and keeps a man down in the most dangerous fashion imaginable. To learn to respect things which people about us respect, as if we had no standard or right of our own to determine values; the strain of appraising things as others appraise them,'counter to the whisperings of our inner taste, which also has a conscience of its own, becomes a terribly subtle kind of constraint: and if in the end no explosion takes place which bursts all the bonds of love and morality at once, then such a spirit becomes withered, dwarfed, feminine, and objective. The reverse of this is bad enough, but still it is better than the foregoing: to suffer from one's environment, from its praise just as much as from its blame; to be wounded by it and to fester inwardly without betraying the fact; to defend one's self involuntarily and suspiciously against its love ; to learn to be silent, and perchance to conceal this by talking; to create nooks and safe, lonely hiding-places Where one can go and take breath for a moment, or shed tears of sublime comfort--
until at last one has grown strong enough to say: "What on earth have I to do with you? " and to
372
? go one's way alone.
'
971.
Those men who are in themselves destinies, and whose advent is the advent of fate, the whole race of
? ? ? THE ORDER OF RANK.
heroic bearers of burdens: oh how heartin and gladly would they have respite from themselves for once in while l--how they crave after stout hearts
- and shoulders, that they might free themselves,were but for an hour or two, from that which oppresses
them! And how fruitlessly they crave! . . They wait; they observe all that passes before their eyes: no man even cometh nigh to them with thousandth part of their suffering and passion no man guesseth to what end they have waited. .
At last, at last, they learn the first lesson of their life: to wait no longer; and forthwith they learn their second lesson: to be affable, to be modest; and from that time onwards to endure everybody and every kind of thing--in short, to endure still
little more than they had endured theretofore.
THE HIGHEST MAN as LAWGIVER OF THE FUTURE.
972.
The lawgivers of the future--After having tried for a long time in vain to attach particular meaning to the word " philosopher,"---for found many antagonistic traits,--I recognised that we can distinguish between two kinds of philosophers :--
(1) Those who desire to establish any large system of values (logical or moral);
(2) Those who are the lawgivers Of such valua tions.
The former try to seize upon the world of the present or the past, by embodying or abbreviating
373
? ? ? '. . _. . 4
a I
a 6.
it
a
; . . . a
!
? 374
THE WILL TO POWER.
the multifarious phenomena by means of signs: their object is to make it possible for us to survey, to reflect upon, to comprehend, and to utilise everything that has happened hitherto--they serve the purpose of man by using all past things to the benefit Of his future.
The second class, however, are commanders ; they say: " Thus shall it be I " They alone determine the " whither " and the " wherefore," and that which will be useful and beneficial to man; they have command over the previous work of scientific men, and all knowledge is to them only a means to their creations. This second kind of philosopher
seldom appears; and as a matter Of fact their situation and their danger is appalling. How often have they not intentionally blindfolded their eyes in order to shut out the sight of the small strip Of ground which separates them from the abyss and from utter destruction. _Plato, for instance, when he persuaded himself that " the good," as he wanted
was not Plato's good, but " the good in itself," the eternal treasure which certain man of the name of Plato had chanced to find on his way! This same will to blindness prevails in much coarser form in the case of the founders religion their "Thou shalt " must on no account sound to
their ears like "I will,"--they only dare to pursue their task as under the command of God; their legislation of values can only be burden they can bear they regard as "revelation," in this way their conscience not crushed by the responsi bility.
As soon as those two comforting expedients--
? ? ? is
it
if
a
if
of
a
;
a
it,
? THE ORDER OE RANK.
375
that of Plato and that of Muhammed--have been overthrown, and no thinker can any longer relieve his conscience with the hypothesis " God " or " eternal values," the claim of the lawgiver to de termine new values rises to an awfulness which has not yet been experienced. Now those elect, on whom the faint light of such a duty is beginning to dawn, try and see whether they cannot escape it--as their greatest danger--by means of a timely side-spring: for instance,they try to persuade themselves that their taskis already accomplished, or that it defies accomplishment, or that their shoulders are not broad enough for such burdens, or that they are already taken up with burdens closer to hand, or even that this new and remote
is a temptation and a seduction, drawing them away from all other duties ; a disease, a kind of madness. Many, as a matter of fact, do succeed in evading the path appointed to them: throughout the whole of history we can see the traces of such de serters and their guilty consciences. In most cases, however, there comes to such men of destiny that hour of delivery, that autumnal season of maturity, in which they are forced to do that which they did not even " wish to do ": and that deed before which in the past they have trembled most, falls easily and unsought from the tree, as an involun tary deed, almost as a present.
973'
The human horizon--Philosophers may be con ceived as men who make the greatest efforts to
? duty
? ? ? 376
THE WILL TO POWER.
discover to what extent man can elevate himself-- this holds good more particularly of Plato: how far man's power can extend. But they do this as individuals; perhaps the instinct of Caesars and of all founders of states, etc. , was greater, for it pre occupied itself with the question how far man could be urged forward in development under " favourable circumstances. " 'What they did not sufficiently understand, however, was the nature of favourable circumstances. The great question : "Where has the plant ' man ' grown most magnificently heretofore? " In order to answer this, a comparative study of history is necessary.
974
Every fact and every work exercises a fresh persuasion over every age and every new species of man. History always enunciates new truths.
975
To remain objective, severe, firm, and hard while making a thought prevail is perhaps the best forte of artists ; but if for this purpose any one have to work upon human material (as teachers, states men, have to do, etc. ), then the repose, the coldness, and the hardness soon vanish. natures like Caesar and Napoleon we are able to divine something of the nature of " disinterestedness " in their work on their marble, whatever be the number of men that are sacrificed in the process. In this direction the future of higher men lies: to bear the greatest re sponsibilities and not to go to rack and ruin
? ? ? Iln
? (3)
(4)
THE ORDER OF RANK.
377
through them--Hitherto the deceptions of inspira tion have almost always been necessary for a man not to lose faith in his own hand, and in his right to his task.
976
The reason why philosophers are mostly failures. Because among the conditions which determine them there are qualities which generally ruin other men :--
(I) A philosopher must have an enormous multiplicity of qualities ; he must be a sort of ab breviation of man and have all man's high and base desires: the danger of the contrast within him, and of the possibility of his loathing him
self;
He must be inquisitive in an extraordinary number of ways: the danger of versatility;
He must be just and honest in the highest sense, but profound both in love and hate (and in injustice) ;
He must not only be a spectator but a law giver: a judge and defendant (in so far as he is an abbreviation of the world);
? (2)
He must be extremely multiform and yet firm and hard. He must be supple.
977
The really regal calling Of the philOsopher (according to the expression of Alcuin the Anglo Saxon): "Prava corrigere, et recta corroborare, et sancta sublimare. "
(5)
'
? ? ? 378
THE WILL To POWER.
978
The new philosopher can only arise in conjunc tion with a ruling class, as the highest spiritualisa tion of the latter. Great politics, the rule of the earth, as a proximate contingency ; the total lack of
principles necessary thereto.
979
Fundamental concept : the new values must first be created --this remains our duty! The philoso
pher must be our lawgiver. New species.
the greatest species hitherto [for instance, the
(How
? were reared: this kind of accident must now be consciously striven for. )
980.
Supposing one thinks of the philosopher as an educator who, looking down from his lonely eleva tion, is powerful enough to draw long chains of generations up to him: then he must be granted the most terrible privileges of a great educator. An educator never says what he himself thinks;
but only that which he thinks it is good for those whom he is educating to hear upon any subject. This dissimulation on his part must not be found out; it is part of his masterliness that people should believe in his honesty, he must be capable of all
the means of discipline and education: there are
some natures which he will only be able to raise ~by means of lashing them with his scorn; others who are lazy, irresolute, cowardly, and vain, he will
Greeks]
? ? ? THE ORDER OF RANK.
379
be able to affect only with exaggerated praise. Such a teacher stands beyond good and evil, but nobody must know that he does.
981.
We must not make men " better," we must not talk to them about morality in any form as if "morality in itself," or an ideal kind of man in general, could be taken for granted; but we must create circumstances in which stronger men are
such as for their part will require a morality (or, better still: a bodily and spiritual
necessary,
? which makes men strong, and upon which they will consequently insist! As they will need one so badly, they will have it.
We must not let ourselves be seduced by blue eyes and heaving breasts: greatness of soul has
absolutely nothing romantic about it. And unfortu nately nothing whatever amiable either.
982.
From warriors we must learn: (I) to associate death with those interests for which we are fighting --that makes us venerable; (2) we must learn to sacrifice numbers, and to take our cause sufl'iciently seriously not to spare men; (3) we must practise inexorable discipline, and allow ourselves violence and cunning in war.
983.
The education which rears those ruling virtues that allow a man to become master of his benevo
discipline)
? ? ? 380
THE WILL TO POWER.
lence and his pity: the great disciplinary virtues (" Forgive thine enemies " is mere child's play beside them), and the passions of the creator, must be ele vated to the heights--we must cease from carving marble! The exceptional and powerful position of those creatures (compared with that of all princes hitherto): the Roman Caesar with Christ's souL
984.
We must not separate greatness of soul from intellectual greatness. For the former involves independence; but without intellectual greatness independence should not be allowed; all it does is to create disasters even in its lust of well-doing and of practising "justice. " Inferior spirits must obey, consequently they cannot be possessed of greatness.
985.
The more lofty philosophical man who is sur rounded by loneliness, not because he wishes to be alone, but because he is what he and cannot find his equal: what number of dangers and torments are reserved for him, precisely at the present time, when we have lost our belief in the order of rank,
and consequently no longer know how to under stand or honour this isolation! Formerly the sage almost sanctified himself in the consciences of the mob by going aside in this way tO-day the anchor-- ite sees himself as though enveloped in cloud of gloomydoubt and suspicions. And not alone by the
? ? ? a
;
a
is,
? THE ORDER OF RANK.
381
envious and the wretched : in every well-meant act that he experiences he is bound to discover mis understanding, neglect, and superficiality. He knows the crafty tricks of foolish pity which makes these people feel so good and holy when they attempt to save him from his own destiny, by giving him more comfortable situations and more decent and reliable society. Yes, he will even get to admire the unconscious lust of destruction with which all mediocre spirits stand up and oppose him, believing all the while that they have a holy right to do so! For men of such incomprehensible loneliness it is necessary to put a good stretch of
country between them and the ofiiciousness of their _ fellows: this is part of their prudence. For such a man to maintain himself uppermost to-day amid
the dangerous maelstroms of the age which threaten to draw him under, even cunning and disguise will be necessary. Every attempt he makes to order his life in the present and with the present, every time he draws near to these men and their modern desires, he will have to expiate as if it were an actual sin: and withal he may look with wonder
at the concealed wisdom of his nature, which after every one of these attempts immediately leads him back to himself by means of illnesses and painful
? accidents.
7
986.
" Maledetto colui " che contrista un spirto immortal!
MANZONI (Conte di Carmagnola, Act II. )
? ? ? 382
THE WILL TO POWER.
987
The most difficult and the highest form which man can attain is the most seldom successful: thus the history of philosophy reveals a super abundance of bungled and unhappy cases of man hood, and its march is an extremely slow one; whole centuries intervene and suppress what has
been achieved: and in this way the connecting link is always made to fail. It is an appalling history, this history of the highest men, of the sages--What is most Often damaged is precisely
the recollection Of great men, for the semi-successful and botched cases of mankind misunderstand them and overcome them by their " successes. " Whenever an " effect " is noticeable, the masses gather in a crowd round it; to hear the inferior
and the poor in spirit having their say is a terrible ear-splitting torment for him who knows and trembles at the thought, that the fate of man depends upon the success Of its highest types. -- From the days of my childhood I have reflected upon the sage's conditions of existence, and I will
not conceal my happy conviction that in Europe he has once more become possible--perhaps only for a short time.
988.
These new philosophers begin with a description of a systematic order of rank and difference Of value among men,---what they desire alas precisely the reverse of an assimilation and equalisation of man: they teach estrangement
? ? ? is,
? probably
THE ORDER' OF RANK.
383
in every sense, they cleave gulfs such as have never yet existed, and they would fain have man become more evil than he ever was. For the present they live concealed and estranged even from each other. For many reasons they will find it necessary to be anchorites and to wear masks-- they will therefore be of little use in the matter of seeking for their equals. They will live alone, and
know the torments of all the loneliest forms of loneliness. Should they, however, thanks to any accident, meet each other on the road, I wager that they would not know each other, or that they would deceive each other in a number of ways.
989.
" Les philosophes ne sont pas faits pour s'aimer. Les aigles ne volent point en compagnie. ll faut laisser cela aux perdrix, aux e? tourneaux. . . Planer au-dessus et avoir des griffes, voila le lot des grands ge? nies. "-'--GALIANI.
990.
I forgot to say that such philosophers are cheerful, and that they like to sit in the abyss of a perfectly clear sky: they are in need of different means for enduring life than other men ; for they suffer in a different way (that is to say, just as much from the depth of their contempt of man as from their love of man). --The animal which suffered most on earth discovered for itself
~laughter.
? ? ? ? 384
THE WILL TO POWER.
99! .
the misunderstanding of "cheerful ncss. "--It is a temporary relief from long tension;
it is the wantonness, the Saturnalia of a spirit, which is consecrating and preparing itself for long and terrible resolutions. The " fool " in the form of " science. "
992.
The new order of rank among spirits; tragic natures no longer in the van.
993
It is a comfort to me to know that over the smoke and filth of human baseness there is a higher and brighter mankind, which, judging from their number, must be a small race (for everything that is in any way distinguished is ipsofacto rare). A man does not belong to this race because he happens to be more gifted, more virtuous, more heroic, or more loving than the men below, but because he is colder, brighter, more far-sighted, and more lonely; because he endures, prefers, and even insists upon, loneliness as the joy, the privilege, yea, even the condition of existence ; because he lives amid
clouds and lightnings as among his equals, and likewise among sunrays, dewdrops, snowflakes, and all that which must needs come from the heights, and which in its course moves ever from heavento
earth. The desire to look aloft is not our desire. --Heroes, martyrs, geniuses, and enthusiasts of all
Concerning
? ? ? ? a.
are men who are the heirs and masters of this slowly acquired and manifold treasure of virtues and proficiences--because, owing to happy and
' reasonable marriages and also to lucky accidents, the acquired and accumulated forces of many
THE ORDER OF RANK.
385
kinds, are not quiet, patient, subtle, cold, or slow enough fOr us.
994
The absolute conviction that valuations above and below are different; that innumerable ex periences are wanting to the latter: that when looking upwards from below misunderstandings are necessary.
995
How do men attain to great power and to great tasks? All the! virtues and proficiences of the body and the?
soul are little by little laboriously acquired, through great industry, self-control, and keeping one's self within narrow bounds, through
' frequent, energetic, and genuine repetition of the
? same work and of the same hardships; but there at
instead of being squandered and
generations,
subdivided, have 'been assembled
means of steadfast struggling and willing. And thus, in the end, man appears who such
monster of strength, that he craves for monstrous task. For our power which has command of us: and the wretched intellectual play of aims and intentions and motivations lies only in the foreground--however much weak eyes
may recognise the principal factors in these things VOL. II. 213
together by
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it is
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? 386
THE WILL To POWER.
996.
The sublime man has the highest value, even when he is most delicate and fragile, because an abundance of very difficult and rare things have been reared through many generations and united
in him.
997
I teach that there are higher and lower men, and that a single individual may under certain cir cumstances justify whole millenniums of existence ---that is to say, a wealthier, more gifted, greater, and more complete man, as compared with in
? numerable
imperfect and fragmentary men.
998.
Away from rulers and rid of all bonds, live the highest men: and in the rulers they have their instruments.
999
The order of rank : he who determines values and leads the will of millenniums, and does this by leading the highest natures--he is the highest
man.
'
1000.
I fancy I have divined some of the things that lie hidden in the soul of the highest man; perhaps every man who has divined so much must go to ruin: but he who has seen the highest man must do all he can to make him possible.
? ? ? THE ORDER OF RANK.
387
Fundamental thought we must make the future the standard Of all our valuations--and not seek the laws for our conduct behind us.
1001.
Not " mankind," but Superman the goal
1002.
" Come l'uom s'eterna. . . "-]nf. xv. 85.
? ? ? _aw
.
is
!
:
? II. DIONYSUS.
1003.
To him who is one of Nature's lucky strokes, to him unto whom my heart goes out, to him who is carved from one integral block, which is hard, sweet, and fragrant--to him from whom even my nose can derive some pleasure--let this book be dedicated.
He enjoys that which is beneficial to him.
His pleasure in anything ceases when the limits of what is beneficial to him are overstepped.
He divines the remedies for partial injuries; his illnesses are the great stimulants of his existence.
He understands how to exploit his serious ,
accidents.
He grows stronger under the misfortunes which
threaten to annihilate him.
He instinctively gathers from all he sees, hears,
and experiences, the materials for what concerns him most,--he pursues a selective principle,---he rejects a good deal.
He reacts with that tardiness which long caution 388
? -
? ? ? I
i
and deliberate pride have bred in him,--he tests the stimulus: whence does it come? whither does it lead ? He does not submit.
He is always in his own company, whether his intercourse be with books, with men, or with
'Nature.
'He honours anything by choosing by
conceding to by trusting it.
1004.
We should attain to such height, to such
lofty eagle's ledge, in our Observation, as to be able to understand that everything happens,
just as ought to happen and that all " imperfec tion," and the pain brings, belong to all that which most eminently desirable.
1005.
Towards 18 76 experienced fright; for saw that everything had most wished for up to that time was being compromised. realised this when perceived what Wagner was actually driving at: and was bound very fast to him by all the bonds of profound similarity of needs, by gratitude, by the thought that he could not be replaced, and by the absolute void which saw facing me.
about this time believed myself to be inextricably entangled in my philology and my professorship--in the accident and last shift of my life: did not know how to get out of and was tired, used up, and on my last legs.
a )
Just
DIONYSUS.
'389
? ? ? I
I
a is
it, I
it,
I
I
it,
a I:
I
a
I
it
I
it
a
? 390
THE WILL TO POWER.
At about the same time I realised that what my instincts most desired to attain was precisely the reverse of what Schopenhauer's instincts wanted --that is to say, a justification of life, even where it was most terrible, most equivocal, and most ' false: to this end, I had the formula " Dionysian " in my hand. "
Schopenhauer's interpretation of the " absolute as will was certainly a step towards that concept of the "absolute" which supposed it to be necessarily good, blessed, true, and integral; but Schopenhauer did not understand how to deify this will: he remained suspended in the moral Christian ideal. Indeed, he was still so very much under the dominion of Christian values, that, once he could no longer regard the absolute as God, he had to conceive it as evil, foolish, utterly reprehensible. He did not realise that
there is an infinite number of ways of being different, and even of being God.
1006.
Hitherto, moral values have been the highest
? If we bring down the values from their pedestal, we thereby alter all values : the principle of their order
of rank which has prevailed hitherto is thus over thrown.
Ioo7.
Transvalue values-what does this mean? It implies that all spontaneous motives, all new,
values: does anybody doubt this? . . .
? ? ? DIONYSUS.
391
future, and stronger motives, are still extant; but that they now appear under false names and false valuations, and have not yet become conscious of themselves.
We ought to have the courage to become conscious, and to affirm all that which has been attained--to get rid of the humdrum character of Old valuations, which makes us unworthy of the best and strongest things that we have achieved.
1008.
Any doctrine would be superfluous for which WV everything is not already prepared in the way of accumulated forces and explosive material. A
transvaluation of values can only be accomplished when there is a tension of new needs, and a new set of needy people who feel all old values as painful,--although they are not conscious of What is wrong. '
1009.
The standpoint from which my values are determined: is abundance or desire active? . . . Is one a mere spectator, or is one's own shoulder at
the wheel--is one looking away or is one turning aside? . . . Is one acting spontaneously, as the result of accumulated strength, or is one merely reacting to a goad or to a stimulus? . . . Is one simply acting as the result of a paucity of elements, or of such an overwhelming dominion over a host of elements that this power enlists the latter into its service if it requires them? . . . Is one a
? ? ? ? 392
THE WILL TO POWER.
problem one's self or is one a solution already ? . . . Is one perfect through the smallness of the task, or imperfect owing to the extraordinary character of the aim? . . . Is one genuine or only an actor; is one genuine as an actor, or only the bad copy of
an actor? is one a representative or the creature represented? Is one a personality or merely a
rendezvous of personalities? . . . Is one ill from a disease or from surplus health? Does one lead as a shepherd, or as an " exception " (third alternative: as a fugitive)? Is one in need of dignity, or can one play the clown? Is one in search Of resistance, or is one evading it? Is one imperfect owing to one's precocity or to one's tardiness? Is it one's nature to say yea, or no, or is one a peacock's tail of garish parts? Is one proud enough not to feel ashamed even of one's vanity? Is one still able to feel a bite of conscience (this species is becoming rare ; formerly conscience had to bite too often : it is as if it now no longer had enough teeth to do so)? Is one still capable of a, "duty"? (there are some people who would lose the whole joy of their lives if they were deprived of their duty--this holds good especially of feminine creatures, who are born subjects).
IOIO.
Supposing our common comprehension of the universe were a misunderstanding, would it be
? to conceive of a form of perfection, within the limits of which even such a misunderstanding as this could be sanctioned? _
possible
The concept of a new form of perfection: that
? ? ? DIONYSUS.
393
which does not correspond to our logic, to our "beauty," to our " good," to our "truth," might be perfect in a higher sense even than our ideal is.
101 I.
Our most important limitation: we must not deify the unknown ; we are just beginning to know so little. The false and wasted endeavours.
Our " new world ": we must ascertain to what extent we are the creators of our valuations--we will thus be able to put " sense " into history.
This belief in truth is reaching its final logical conclusion in us--ye know how it reads: that if there is anything at all that must be worshipped it is appearance; that falsehood and not truth is-- divine.
1012.
' He who urges rational thought forward, thereby also drives its antagonistic power--mysticism and foolery of every kind--to new feats of strength.
We should recognise that every movement is (1) partly the manifestation of fatigue resulting from a previous movement (satiety after the malice of weakness towards and disease) and (2) partly a newly awakened accumulation of long slumbering forces, and therefore wanton, violent, healthy.
1013.
Health and morbidness: let us be careful The standard the bloom of the body, the agility, courage, and cheerfulness of the mind--but also, of
? ? ? is
!
it,
;
it,
? 394
THE WILL TO POWER.
course, how much morbidness a man can bear and overcome,--~and convert into health. That which would send more delicate natures t0 the dogs, belongs to the stimulating means ofgreat health.
1014.
It is only a question of power: to have all the morbid traits of the century, but to balance them by means of overflowing, plastic, and rejuvenating power. The strong man.
1015.
Concerningthe strength of the nineteenth century. -- We are more mediaeval than the eighteenth century ; not only more inquisitive or more susceptible to the strange and to the rare. We have revolted against the Revolution. . . . We have freed ourselves from the fear of reason, which was the spectre of the
eighteenth century: we once' more dare tO- be childish, lyrical, absurd,--in a word, _" we are musicians. " And we are just as little frightened of the ridiculous as of the absurd. ' The devil finds that he is tolerated even by God: better still, he has become interesting as one who has been mis understood and slandered for ages,--we are the saviours of the devil's honour.
We no longer separate the great from the terrible. We reconcile good things, in all their complexity,
* This is reminiscent of Goethe's Faust. See " Prologue in Heaven. "--TR.
? ? ? ? DIONYSUS.
395
with the very worst things; we have overcome the desideratum of the past (which wanted goodness to grow without the increase of evil). The cowardice towards the ideal, peculiar to the Renaissance, has diminished--we even dare to aspire to the latter's morality. Intolerance towards priests and the Church has at the same time come to an end "It
immoral to believe in God "--but this pre cisely what we regard as the best possible justifica tion of this belief.
On all these things we have conferred the civic rights of our minds.
970.
The danger of modesty. ---To adapt ourselves too early to duties, societies, and daily schemes of work in which accident may have placed us, at a time when neither our powers nor our aim in life has stepped peremptorily into our consciousness;
* This not only refers to Heroes and Hero-Worship, but doubtless to Carlyle's prodigious misunderstanding of Goethe --a misunderstanding which still requires to be put right by a critic untainted by PuritanisIIL--TR.
371
? ? ? ? THE WILL TO POWER.
the premature certainty of conscience and feeling of relief and *Of sociability which is acquired by this precocious, modest attitude, and which appears to our minds as a deliverance from those inner and outer disturbances Of our feelings--all this pampers and keeps a man down in the most dangerous fashion imaginable. To learn to respect things which people about us respect, as if we had no standard or right of our own to determine values; the strain of appraising things as others appraise them,'counter to the whisperings of our inner taste, which also has a conscience of its own, becomes a terribly subtle kind of constraint: and if in the end no explosion takes place which bursts all the bonds of love and morality at once, then such a spirit becomes withered, dwarfed, feminine, and objective. The reverse of this is bad enough, but still it is better than the foregoing: to suffer from one's environment, from its praise just as much as from its blame; to be wounded by it and to fester inwardly without betraying the fact; to defend one's self involuntarily and suspiciously against its love ; to learn to be silent, and perchance to conceal this by talking; to create nooks and safe, lonely hiding-places Where one can go and take breath for a moment, or shed tears of sublime comfort--
until at last one has grown strong enough to say: "What on earth have I to do with you? " and to
372
? go one's way alone.
'
971.
Those men who are in themselves destinies, and whose advent is the advent of fate, the whole race of
? ? ? THE ORDER OF RANK.
heroic bearers of burdens: oh how heartin and gladly would they have respite from themselves for once in while l--how they crave after stout hearts
- and shoulders, that they might free themselves,were but for an hour or two, from that which oppresses
them! And how fruitlessly they crave! . . They wait; they observe all that passes before their eyes: no man even cometh nigh to them with thousandth part of their suffering and passion no man guesseth to what end they have waited. .
At last, at last, they learn the first lesson of their life: to wait no longer; and forthwith they learn their second lesson: to be affable, to be modest; and from that time onwards to endure everybody and every kind of thing--in short, to endure still
little more than they had endured theretofore.
THE HIGHEST MAN as LAWGIVER OF THE FUTURE.
972.
The lawgivers of the future--After having tried for a long time in vain to attach particular meaning to the word " philosopher,"---for found many antagonistic traits,--I recognised that we can distinguish between two kinds of philosophers :--
(1) Those who desire to establish any large system of values (logical or moral);
(2) Those who are the lawgivers Of such valua tions.
The former try to seize upon the world of the present or the past, by embodying or abbreviating
373
? ? ? '. . _. . 4
a I
a 6.
it
a
; . . . a
!
? 374
THE WILL TO POWER.
the multifarious phenomena by means of signs: their object is to make it possible for us to survey, to reflect upon, to comprehend, and to utilise everything that has happened hitherto--they serve the purpose of man by using all past things to the benefit Of his future.
The second class, however, are commanders ; they say: " Thus shall it be I " They alone determine the " whither " and the " wherefore," and that which will be useful and beneficial to man; they have command over the previous work of scientific men, and all knowledge is to them only a means to their creations. This second kind of philosopher
seldom appears; and as a matter Of fact their situation and their danger is appalling. How often have they not intentionally blindfolded their eyes in order to shut out the sight of the small strip Of ground which separates them from the abyss and from utter destruction. _Plato, for instance, when he persuaded himself that " the good," as he wanted
was not Plato's good, but " the good in itself," the eternal treasure which certain man of the name of Plato had chanced to find on his way! This same will to blindness prevails in much coarser form in the case of the founders religion their "Thou shalt " must on no account sound to
their ears like "I will,"--they only dare to pursue their task as under the command of God; their legislation of values can only be burden they can bear they regard as "revelation," in this way their conscience not crushed by the responsi bility.
As soon as those two comforting expedients--
? ? ? is
it
if
a
if
of
a
;
a
it,
? THE ORDER OE RANK.
375
that of Plato and that of Muhammed--have been overthrown, and no thinker can any longer relieve his conscience with the hypothesis " God " or " eternal values," the claim of the lawgiver to de termine new values rises to an awfulness which has not yet been experienced. Now those elect, on whom the faint light of such a duty is beginning to dawn, try and see whether they cannot escape it--as their greatest danger--by means of a timely side-spring: for instance,they try to persuade themselves that their taskis already accomplished, or that it defies accomplishment, or that their shoulders are not broad enough for such burdens, or that they are already taken up with burdens closer to hand, or even that this new and remote
is a temptation and a seduction, drawing them away from all other duties ; a disease, a kind of madness. Many, as a matter of fact, do succeed in evading the path appointed to them: throughout the whole of history we can see the traces of such de serters and their guilty consciences. In most cases, however, there comes to such men of destiny that hour of delivery, that autumnal season of maturity, in which they are forced to do that which they did not even " wish to do ": and that deed before which in the past they have trembled most, falls easily and unsought from the tree, as an involun tary deed, almost as a present.
973'
The human horizon--Philosophers may be con ceived as men who make the greatest efforts to
? duty
? ? ? 376
THE WILL TO POWER.
discover to what extent man can elevate himself-- this holds good more particularly of Plato: how far man's power can extend. But they do this as individuals; perhaps the instinct of Caesars and of all founders of states, etc. , was greater, for it pre occupied itself with the question how far man could be urged forward in development under " favourable circumstances. " 'What they did not sufficiently understand, however, was the nature of favourable circumstances. The great question : "Where has the plant ' man ' grown most magnificently heretofore? " In order to answer this, a comparative study of history is necessary.
974
Every fact and every work exercises a fresh persuasion over every age and every new species of man. History always enunciates new truths.
975
To remain objective, severe, firm, and hard while making a thought prevail is perhaps the best forte of artists ; but if for this purpose any one have to work upon human material (as teachers, states men, have to do, etc. ), then the repose, the coldness, and the hardness soon vanish. natures like Caesar and Napoleon we are able to divine something of the nature of " disinterestedness " in their work on their marble, whatever be the number of men that are sacrificed in the process. In this direction the future of higher men lies: to bear the greatest re sponsibilities and not to go to rack and ruin
? ? ? Iln
? (3)
(4)
THE ORDER OF RANK.
377
through them--Hitherto the deceptions of inspira tion have almost always been necessary for a man not to lose faith in his own hand, and in his right to his task.
976
The reason why philosophers are mostly failures. Because among the conditions which determine them there are qualities which generally ruin other men :--
(I) A philosopher must have an enormous multiplicity of qualities ; he must be a sort of ab breviation of man and have all man's high and base desires: the danger of the contrast within him, and of the possibility of his loathing him
self;
He must be inquisitive in an extraordinary number of ways: the danger of versatility;
He must be just and honest in the highest sense, but profound both in love and hate (and in injustice) ;
He must not only be a spectator but a law giver: a judge and defendant (in so far as he is an abbreviation of the world);
? (2)
He must be extremely multiform and yet firm and hard. He must be supple.
977
The really regal calling Of the philOsopher (according to the expression of Alcuin the Anglo Saxon): "Prava corrigere, et recta corroborare, et sancta sublimare. "
(5)
'
? ? ? 378
THE WILL To POWER.
978
The new philosopher can only arise in conjunc tion with a ruling class, as the highest spiritualisa tion of the latter. Great politics, the rule of the earth, as a proximate contingency ; the total lack of
principles necessary thereto.
979
Fundamental concept : the new values must first be created --this remains our duty! The philoso
pher must be our lawgiver. New species.
the greatest species hitherto [for instance, the
(How
? were reared: this kind of accident must now be consciously striven for. )
980.
Supposing one thinks of the philosopher as an educator who, looking down from his lonely eleva tion, is powerful enough to draw long chains of generations up to him: then he must be granted the most terrible privileges of a great educator. An educator never says what he himself thinks;
but only that which he thinks it is good for those whom he is educating to hear upon any subject. This dissimulation on his part must not be found out; it is part of his masterliness that people should believe in his honesty, he must be capable of all
the means of discipline and education: there are
some natures which he will only be able to raise ~by means of lashing them with his scorn; others who are lazy, irresolute, cowardly, and vain, he will
Greeks]
? ? ? THE ORDER OF RANK.
379
be able to affect only with exaggerated praise. Such a teacher stands beyond good and evil, but nobody must know that he does.
981.
We must not make men " better," we must not talk to them about morality in any form as if "morality in itself," or an ideal kind of man in general, could be taken for granted; but we must create circumstances in which stronger men are
such as for their part will require a morality (or, better still: a bodily and spiritual
necessary,
? which makes men strong, and upon which they will consequently insist! As they will need one so badly, they will have it.
We must not let ourselves be seduced by blue eyes and heaving breasts: greatness of soul has
absolutely nothing romantic about it. And unfortu nately nothing whatever amiable either.
982.
From warriors we must learn: (I) to associate death with those interests for which we are fighting --that makes us venerable; (2) we must learn to sacrifice numbers, and to take our cause sufl'iciently seriously not to spare men; (3) we must practise inexorable discipline, and allow ourselves violence and cunning in war.
983.
The education which rears those ruling virtues that allow a man to become master of his benevo
discipline)
? ? ? 380
THE WILL TO POWER.
lence and his pity: the great disciplinary virtues (" Forgive thine enemies " is mere child's play beside them), and the passions of the creator, must be ele vated to the heights--we must cease from carving marble! The exceptional and powerful position of those creatures (compared with that of all princes hitherto): the Roman Caesar with Christ's souL
984.
We must not separate greatness of soul from intellectual greatness. For the former involves independence; but without intellectual greatness independence should not be allowed; all it does is to create disasters even in its lust of well-doing and of practising "justice. " Inferior spirits must obey, consequently they cannot be possessed of greatness.
985.
The more lofty philosophical man who is sur rounded by loneliness, not because he wishes to be alone, but because he is what he and cannot find his equal: what number of dangers and torments are reserved for him, precisely at the present time, when we have lost our belief in the order of rank,
and consequently no longer know how to under stand or honour this isolation! Formerly the sage almost sanctified himself in the consciences of the mob by going aside in this way tO-day the anchor-- ite sees himself as though enveloped in cloud of gloomydoubt and suspicions. And not alone by the
? ? ? a
;
a
is,
? THE ORDER OF RANK.
381
envious and the wretched : in every well-meant act that he experiences he is bound to discover mis understanding, neglect, and superficiality. He knows the crafty tricks of foolish pity which makes these people feel so good and holy when they attempt to save him from his own destiny, by giving him more comfortable situations and more decent and reliable society. Yes, he will even get to admire the unconscious lust of destruction with which all mediocre spirits stand up and oppose him, believing all the while that they have a holy right to do so! For men of such incomprehensible loneliness it is necessary to put a good stretch of
country between them and the ofiiciousness of their _ fellows: this is part of their prudence. For such a man to maintain himself uppermost to-day amid
the dangerous maelstroms of the age which threaten to draw him under, even cunning and disguise will be necessary. Every attempt he makes to order his life in the present and with the present, every time he draws near to these men and their modern desires, he will have to expiate as if it were an actual sin: and withal he may look with wonder
at the concealed wisdom of his nature, which after every one of these attempts immediately leads him back to himself by means of illnesses and painful
? accidents.
7
986.
" Maledetto colui " che contrista un spirto immortal!
MANZONI (Conte di Carmagnola, Act II. )
? ? ? 382
THE WILL TO POWER.
987
The most difficult and the highest form which man can attain is the most seldom successful: thus the history of philosophy reveals a super abundance of bungled and unhappy cases of man hood, and its march is an extremely slow one; whole centuries intervene and suppress what has
been achieved: and in this way the connecting link is always made to fail. It is an appalling history, this history of the highest men, of the sages--What is most Often damaged is precisely
the recollection Of great men, for the semi-successful and botched cases of mankind misunderstand them and overcome them by their " successes. " Whenever an " effect " is noticeable, the masses gather in a crowd round it; to hear the inferior
and the poor in spirit having their say is a terrible ear-splitting torment for him who knows and trembles at the thought, that the fate of man depends upon the success Of its highest types. -- From the days of my childhood I have reflected upon the sage's conditions of existence, and I will
not conceal my happy conviction that in Europe he has once more become possible--perhaps only for a short time.
988.
These new philosophers begin with a description of a systematic order of rank and difference Of value among men,---what they desire alas precisely the reverse of an assimilation and equalisation of man: they teach estrangement
? ? ? is,
? probably
THE ORDER' OF RANK.
383
in every sense, they cleave gulfs such as have never yet existed, and they would fain have man become more evil than he ever was. For the present they live concealed and estranged even from each other. For many reasons they will find it necessary to be anchorites and to wear masks-- they will therefore be of little use in the matter of seeking for their equals. They will live alone, and
know the torments of all the loneliest forms of loneliness. Should they, however, thanks to any accident, meet each other on the road, I wager that they would not know each other, or that they would deceive each other in a number of ways.
989.
" Les philosophes ne sont pas faits pour s'aimer. Les aigles ne volent point en compagnie. ll faut laisser cela aux perdrix, aux e? tourneaux. . . Planer au-dessus et avoir des griffes, voila le lot des grands ge? nies. "-'--GALIANI.
990.
I forgot to say that such philosophers are cheerful, and that they like to sit in the abyss of a perfectly clear sky: they are in need of different means for enduring life than other men ; for they suffer in a different way (that is to say, just as much from the depth of their contempt of man as from their love of man). --The animal which suffered most on earth discovered for itself
~laughter.
? ? ? ? 384
THE WILL TO POWER.
99! .
the misunderstanding of "cheerful ncss. "--It is a temporary relief from long tension;
it is the wantonness, the Saturnalia of a spirit, which is consecrating and preparing itself for long and terrible resolutions. The " fool " in the form of " science. "
992.
The new order of rank among spirits; tragic natures no longer in the van.
993
It is a comfort to me to know that over the smoke and filth of human baseness there is a higher and brighter mankind, which, judging from their number, must be a small race (for everything that is in any way distinguished is ipsofacto rare). A man does not belong to this race because he happens to be more gifted, more virtuous, more heroic, or more loving than the men below, but because he is colder, brighter, more far-sighted, and more lonely; because he endures, prefers, and even insists upon, loneliness as the joy, the privilege, yea, even the condition of existence ; because he lives amid
clouds and lightnings as among his equals, and likewise among sunrays, dewdrops, snowflakes, and all that which must needs come from the heights, and which in its course moves ever from heavento
earth. The desire to look aloft is not our desire. --Heroes, martyrs, geniuses, and enthusiasts of all
Concerning
? ? ? ? a.
are men who are the heirs and masters of this slowly acquired and manifold treasure of virtues and proficiences--because, owing to happy and
' reasonable marriages and also to lucky accidents, the acquired and accumulated forces of many
THE ORDER OF RANK.
385
kinds, are not quiet, patient, subtle, cold, or slow enough fOr us.
994
The absolute conviction that valuations above and below are different; that innumerable ex periences are wanting to the latter: that when looking upwards from below misunderstandings are necessary.
995
How do men attain to great power and to great tasks? All the! virtues and proficiences of the body and the?
soul are little by little laboriously acquired, through great industry, self-control, and keeping one's self within narrow bounds, through
' frequent, energetic, and genuine repetition of the
? same work and of the same hardships; but there at
instead of being squandered and
generations,
subdivided, have 'been assembled
means of steadfast struggling and willing. And thus, in the end, man appears who such
monster of strength, that he craves for monstrous task. For our power which has command of us: and the wretched intellectual play of aims and intentions and motivations lies only in the foreground--however much weak eyes
may recognise the principal factors in these things VOL. II. 213
together by
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_ ___. _r
__<_' ___ N. .
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it is
is a
a
a
? 386
THE WILL To POWER.
996.
The sublime man has the highest value, even when he is most delicate and fragile, because an abundance of very difficult and rare things have been reared through many generations and united
in him.
997
I teach that there are higher and lower men, and that a single individual may under certain cir cumstances justify whole millenniums of existence ---that is to say, a wealthier, more gifted, greater, and more complete man, as compared with in
? numerable
imperfect and fragmentary men.
998.
Away from rulers and rid of all bonds, live the highest men: and in the rulers they have their instruments.
999
The order of rank : he who determines values and leads the will of millenniums, and does this by leading the highest natures--he is the highest
man.
'
1000.
I fancy I have divined some of the things that lie hidden in the soul of the highest man; perhaps every man who has divined so much must go to ruin: but he who has seen the highest man must do all he can to make him possible.
? ? ? THE ORDER OF RANK.
387
Fundamental thought we must make the future the standard Of all our valuations--and not seek the laws for our conduct behind us.
1001.
Not " mankind," but Superman the goal
1002.
" Come l'uom s'eterna. . . "-]nf. xv. 85.
? ? ? _aw
.
is
!
:
? II. DIONYSUS.
1003.
To him who is one of Nature's lucky strokes, to him unto whom my heart goes out, to him who is carved from one integral block, which is hard, sweet, and fragrant--to him from whom even my nose can derive some pleasure--let this book be dedicated.
He enjoys that which is beneficial to him.
His pleasure in anything ceases when the limits of what is beneficial to him are overstepped.
He divines the remedies for partial injuries; his illnesses are the great stimulants of his existence.
He understands how to exploit his serious ,
accidents.
He grows stronger under the misfortunes which
threaten to annihilate him.
He instinctively gathers from all he sees, hears,
and experiences, the materials for what concerns him most,--he pursues a selective principle,---he rejects a good deal.
He reacts with that tardiness which long caution 388
? -
? ? ? I
i
and deliberate pride have bred in him,--he tests the stimulus: whence does it come? whither does it lead ? He does not submit.
He is always in his own company, whether his intercourse be with books, with men, or with
'Nature.
'He honours anything by choosing by
conceding to by trusting it.
1004.
We should attain to such height, to such
lofty eagle's ledge, in our Observation, as to be able to understand that everything happens,
just as ought to happen and that all " imperfec tion," and the pain brings, belong to all that which most eminently desirable.
1005.
Towards 18 76 experienced fright; for saw that everything had most wished for up to that time was being compromised. realised this when perceived what Wagner was actually driving at: and was bound very fast to him by all the bonds of profound similarity of needs, by gratitude, by the thought that he could not be replaced, and by the absolute void which saw facing me.
about this time believed myself to be inextricably entangled in my philology and my professorship--in the accident and last shift of my life: did not know how to get out of and was tired, used up, and on my last legs.
a )
Just
DIONYSUS.
'389
? ? ? I
I
a is
it, I
it,
I
I
it,
a I:
I
a
I
it
I
it
a
? 390
THE WILL TO POWER.
At about the same time I realised that what my instincts most desired to attain was precisely the reverse of what Schopenhauer's instincts wanted --that is to say, a justification of life, even where it was most terrible, most equivocal, and most ' false: to this end, I had the formula " Dionysian " in my hand. "
Schopenhauer's interpretation of the " absolute as will was certainly a step towards that concept of the "absolute" which supposed it to be necessarily good, blessed, true, and integral; but Schopenhauer did not understand how to deify this will: he remained suspended in the moral Christian ideal. Indeed, he was still so very much under the dominion of Christian values, that, once he could no longer regard the absolute as God, he had to conceive it as evil, foolish, utterly reprehensible. He did not realise that
there is an infinite number of ways of being different, and even of being God.
1006.
Hitherto, moral values have been the highest
? If we bring down the values from their pedestal, we thereby alter all values : the principle of their order
of rank which has prevailed hitherto is thus over thrown.
Ioo7.
Transvalue values-what does this mean? It implies that all spontaneous motives, all new,
values: does anybody doubt this? . . .
? ? ? DIONYSUS.
391
future, and stronger motives, are still extant; but that they now appear under false names and false valuations, and have not yet become conscious of themselves.
We ought to have the courage to become conscious, and to affirm all that which has been attained--to get rid of the humdrum character of Old valuations, which makes us unworthy of the best and strongest things that we have achieved.
1008.
Any doctrine would be superfluous for which WV everything is not already prepared in the way of accumulated forces and explosive material. A
transvaluation of values can only be accomplished when there is a tension of new needs, and a new set of needy people who feel all old values as painful,--although they are not conscious of What is wrong. '
1009.
The standpoint from which my values are determined: is abundance or desire active? . . . Is one a mere spectator, or is one's own shoulder at
the wheel--is one looking away or is one turning aside? . . . Is one acting spontaneously, as the result of accumulated strength, or is one merely reacting to a goad or to a stimulus? . . . Is one simply acting as the result of a paucity of elements, or of such an overwhelming dominion over a host of elements that this power enlists the latter into its service if it requires them? . . . Is one a
? ? ? ? 392
THE WILL TO POWER.
problem one's self or is one a solution already ? . . . Is one perfect through the smallness of the task, or imperfect owing to the extraordinary character of the aim? . . . Is one genuine or only an actor; is one genuine as an actor, or only the bad copy of
an actor? is one a representative or the creature represented? Is one a personality or merely a
rendezvous of personalities? . . . Is one ill from a disease or from surplus health? Does one lead as a shepherd, or as an " exception " (third alternative: as a fugitive)? Is one in need of dignity, or can one play the clown? Is one in search Of resistance, or is one evading it? Is one imperfect owing to one's precocity or to one's tardiness? Is it one's nature to say yea, or no, or is one a peacock's tail of garish parts? Is one proud enough not to feel ashamed even of one's vanity? Is one still able to feel a bite of conscience (this species is becoming rare ; formerly conscience had to bite too often : it is as if it now no longer had enough teeth to do so)? Is one still capable of a, "duty"? (there are some people who would lose the whole joy of their lives if they were deprived of their duty--this holds good especially of feminine creatures, who are born subjects).
IOIO.
Supposing our common comprehension of the universe were a misunderstanding, would it be
? to conceive of a form of perfection, within the limits of which even such a misunderstanding as this could be sanctioned? _
possible
The concept of a new form of perfection: that
? ? ? DIONYSUS.
393
which does not correspond to our logic, to our "beauty," to our " good," to our "truth," might be perfect in a higher sense even than our ideal is.
101 I.
Our most important limitation: we must not deify the unknown ; we are just beginning to know so little. The false and wasted endeavours.
Our " new world ": we must ascertain to what extent we are the creators of our valuations--we will thus be able to put " sense " into history.
This belief in truth is reaching its final logical conclusion in us--ye know how it reads: that if there is anything at all that must be worshipped it is appearance; that falsehood and not truth is-- divine.
1012.
' He who urges rational thought forward, thereby also drives its antagonistic power--mysticism and foolery of every kind--to new feats of strength.
We should recognise that every movement is (1) partly the manifestation of fatigue resulting from a previous movement (satiety after the malice of weakness towards and disease) and (2) partly a newly awakened accumulation of long slumbering forces, and therefore wanton, violent, healthy.
1013.
Health and morbidness: let us be careful The standard the bloom of the body, the agility, courage, and cheerfulness of the mind--but also, of
? ? ? is
!
it,
;
it,
? 394
THE WILL TO POWER.
course, how much morbidness a man can bear and overcome,--~and convert into health. That which would send more delicate natures t0 the dogs, belongs to the stimulating means ofgreat health.
1014.
It is only a question of power: to have all the morbid traits of the century, but to balance them by means of overflowing, plastic, and rejuvenating power. The strong man.
1015.
Concerningthe strength of the nineteenth century. -- We are more mediaeval than the eighteenth century ; not only more inquisitive or more susceptible to the strange and to the rare. We have revolted against the Revolution. . . . We have freed ourselves from the fear of reason, which was the spectre of the
eighteenth century: we once' more dare tO- be childish, lyrical, absurd,--in a word, _" we are musicians. " And we are just as little frightened of the ridiculous as of the absurd. ' The devil finds that he is tolerated even by God: better still, he has become interesting as one who has been mis understood and slandered for ages,--we are the saviours of the devil's honour.
We no longer separate the great from the terrible. We reconcile good things, in all their complexity,
* This is reminiscent of Goethe's Faust. See " Prologue in Heaven. "--TR.
? ? ? ? DIONYSUS.
395
with the very worst things; we have overcome the desideratum of the past (which wanted goodness to grow without the increase of evil). The cowardice towards the ideal, peculiar to the Renaissance, has diminished--we even dare to aspire to the latter's morality. Intolerance towards priests and the Church has at the same time come to an end "It
immoral to believe in God "--but this pre cisely what we regard as the best possible justifica tion of this belief.
On all these things we have conferred the civic rights of our minds.
