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Friedrich Nietzsche
Fighter for Freedom
GA 5

Part I - ii. The Superman

10.

[ 1 ] All striving of mankind, as of every living thing, exists for the satisfying, in the very best way, of impulses and instincts implanted by nature. When human beings strive toward morality, justice, knowledge and art, this is done because morality, justice, and so forth, are means by which these human instincts can develop themselves according to their nature. The instincts would atrophy without these means. Now it is a peculiarity of the human being that he forgets this connection between his life needs and his natural impulses, and regards these means for a natural, powerful life as something with unconditional intrinsic value. Man then says that morality, justice, knowledge, and so on, must be attained for their own sakes. They do not have an intrinsic value in that they serve life, but rather that life first receives value when it strives toward these ideal possessions. Man does not exist to live according to his instincts, like an animal, but that he may ennoble his instincts by placing them at the service of higher purposes. In this way man comes to the point where he worships as ideals what he had first created for the satisfaction of his impulses, ideals which first give his life true inspiration. He demands subjugation to ideals which he values more highly than himself. He frees himself from the mother ground of reality and wishes to give his existence a higher meaning and purpose. He invents an unnatural origin for his ideals. He calls them “God's will,” the “eternal, moral laws.” He wishes to strive after “truth for truth's sake,” “virtue for virtue's sake.” He considers himself a good human being only when he has supposedly succeeded in controlling his egotism, that is, his natural instincts, and in following one ideal goal selflessly. For such an idealist, that man is considered ignoble and “evil” who has not attained such self control.

[ 2 ] Now all ideals originally stem from natural instincts. Also what Christ considers as virtue, which God has revealed to Him, man has originally discovered as satisfying some instinct or other. The natural origin is forgotten, and the divine imagined and superimposed. A similar situation exists in relation to those virtues which the philosophers and preachers of morality set up.

[ 3 ] If mankind had only sound instincts and would determine their ideals according to them, then this theoretical error about the origin of these ideals would not be harmful. The idealists, of course, would have false opinions about the origin of their goals, but in themselves these goals would be sound, and life would have to flourish. But there are unsound instincts which are not directed toward strengthening and fostering life, but rather toward weakening and stunting it. These take control of the so-called theoretical confusion and make it into the practical life purpose. They mislead man into saying, A perfect man is not the one who wants to serve himself and his life, but the one who devotes himself to the realization of an ideal. Under the influence of these instincts, the human being does not merely remain at the point where he erroneously ascribes an unnatural or supernatural origin to his ideals, but he actually makes such ideals part of himself, or takes over from others those which do not serve the necessities of life. He no longer strives to bring to light the forces lying within his own personality, but he lives according to a pattern which has been forced upon him. Whether he takes this goal from a religion or whether he himself determines it on the basis of certain assumptions not lying within his own nature, is of no importance. The philosopher who has in mind a universal purpose for mankind, and from this purpose directs his moral ideals, lays just as many fetters upon human nature as the originator of a religion who says to mankind, This is the goal which God has set for you, and this you must follow. It is also of no importance whether man intends to become an image of God or whether he invents an ideal of the “perfect human being,” and resembles this as much as possible. Only the single human being, and only the impulses and instincts of this single human being are real. Only when he directs his attention to the needs of his own person, can man experience what is good for his life. The single human being does not become “perfect” when he denies himself and resembles a model, but when he brings to reality that within him which strives toward realization. Human activity does not first acquire meaning because it serves an impersonal, external purpose; it has its meaning in itself.

[ 4 ] The anti-idealist of course will also see in unsound human activity an instinctive expression of man's primeval instincts. He knows that only out of instinct can the human being accomplish even what is contrary to instinct. But he will of course attack that which is against instinct, just as the doctor attacks a sickness, although the doctor knows that the sickness has arisen out of certain natural causes. Therefore, we may not accuse the anti-idealist by saying, you assert that everything toward which man strives, therefore all ideals as well, have originated naturally; and yet you attack idealism. Indeed, ideals arise just as naturally as sickness, but the healthy human being fights idealism just as he fights sickness. The idealist, however, regards ideals as something which must be cherished and protected.

[ 5 ] According to Nietzsche's opinion, the belief that man will become perfect only when he serves “higher” goals is something that must be overcome. Man must recollect and know that he has created ideals only to serve himself. To live according to nature is healthier than to chase after ideals which supposedly do not originate out of reality. The human being who does not serve impersonal goals, but who looks for the purpose and meaning of his existence in himself, who makes his own such virtues as serve the unfoldment of his own power, and the perfection of his own might—Nietzsche values this human being more highly than the selfless idealist.

[ 6 ] This it is what he propounds through his Zarathustra. The sovereign individuum which knows that it can live only out of its own nature and which sees its personal goal in a life configuration which fits its own being: for Nietzsche this is the superman, in contrast to the human being who believes that life has been given to him as a gift to serve a purpose lying outside of himself.

[ 7 ] Zarathustra teaches the superman, that is, the human being who understands how to live according to nature. He teaches those human beings who regard their virtues as their own creations; he tells them to despise those who value their virtues higher than themselves.

[ 8 ] Zarathustra has gone into the loneliness to free himself from humility according to which men bow down before their virtues. He reappears among mankind only when he has learned to despise those virtues which fetter life and do not wish to serve life. He moves lightly like a dancer, for he follows only himself and his will, and disregards the lines which are indicated by the virtues. No longer does the belief rest heavily upon him that it is wrong to follow only himself. Now Zarathustra no longer sleeps in order to dream about ideals; he is a watcher who faces reality in freedom. For him the human being who has lost himself and lies in the dust before his own creations, is like a polluted stream. For him the superman is an ocean which takes this stream into itself without becoming impure. For the superman has found himself; he recognizes himself as the master and creator of his virtues. Zarathustra has experienced grandeur in that all those virtues which are placed above the human being have become repugnant to him.

[ 9 ] “What is the greatest which you can experience? It is the hour of great contempt, the hour in which your happiness becomes repugnance, and likewise your intellect and your virtue.”

11.

[ 10 ] The wisdom of Zarathustra is not in accord with the thinking of the “modern cultured person.” The latter would like to make all human beings equal. If all strive after only one goal, they say, then there is contentment and happiness upon earth. They require that man should restrain his special, personal wishes, and serve only the whole, the universal happiness. Peace and tranquility will then reign upon earth. If everyone has the same needs, then no one disturbs the orbits of others. The individual should not regard himself and his individual goals, but everyone should live according to their once-determined pattern. All individual living should vanish, and all become part of a universal world order.

[ 11 ] “No shepherd and one flock! Everyone desires the same, everyone is equal; he who feels otherwise goes voluntarily into the madhouse.

[ 12 ] “‘Formerly all the world was insane,’ say the best of them, and blink.

[ 13 ] “People are clever and know all that has happened, so there is no end to their mocking. People still quarrel, but are soon reconciled; otherwise it disturbs the digestion.”

[ 14 ] Zarathustra had been a lone-dweller too long to pay homage to such wisdom. He had heard the peculiar tones which sound from within the personality when man stands apart from the noise of the market place where one person merely repeats the words of another. And he would like to shout into the ears of human beings: Listen to the voices which sound forth in each individual among you. For only those voices are in accord with nature which tell; each one of what he alone is capable. An enemy of life, of the rich full life, is the one who allows these voices to resound unheard, and who listens to the common cry of mankind. Zarathustra will not speak to the friends of the equality of all mankind. They can only misunderstand him. For they would believe that his superman is that ideal model which all of them should resemble. But Zarathustra wishes to make no prescriptions of what men should be; he will refer each one only to himself, and will say to him, Depend upon yourself, follow only yourself, put yourself above virtue, wisdom, and knowledge. Zarathustra speaks to those who wish to find themselves, not to a multitude who search for a common goal; his words are intended for those companions who, like him, go their own way. They alone understand him because they know that he does not wish to say, Look, there is the superman, become like him, but, Behold, I have searched for myself; I am as I teach you to be; go likewise and search for your own self; then you have the superman.

[ 15 ] “To the one who dwells alone will I sing my song and to the twain-dweller; and unto him who still has ears for the unheard, his heart will I burden with my happiness.”

12.

[ 16 ] Two animals, the serpent, the wisest, and the eagle, the proudest, accompany Zarathustra. They are the symbols of his instincts. Zarathustra values wisdom because it teaches the human being to find the hidden paths to reality; it teaches him to know what he needs for life. And Zarathustra also loves pride because pride arouses self-estimation in the human being, through which he comes to regard himself as the meaning and purpose of his existence. Pride does not place his wisdom, his virtue, above his own self, in favor of “higher, more sacred” goals. Still, rather than lose pride Zarathustra would lose wisdom.

For wisdom which is not accompanied by pride does not regard itself as the work of man. The one who lacks pride and self-esteem, believes his wisdom has come to him as a gift from heaven. Such a one says, Man is a fool, and he has only as much wisdom as the heavens wish to grant him.

[ 17 ] “And should my wisdom abandon me—Oh, it loves to fly away—may my pride then still fly with my foolishness”

13.

[ 18 ] The human spirit must pass through three metamorphoses until he finds himself. This is Zarathustra's teaching. At first the spirit is reverent. He calls that virtue which weighs him down. He lowers himself in order to raise his virtue. He says, All wisdom comes from God, and I must follow God's paths. God imposes the most difficult upon me to test my power, whether it proves itself to be strong and patient in its endurance. Only the one who is patient is strong. I will obey, says the spirit at this level, and will carry out the commandments of the world-spirit, without asking the meaning of these commandments. The spirit feels the pressure which a higher power exerts upon it. The spirit does not take its own paths, but the paths of him he serves.

The time arrives when the spirit becomes aware that no God speaks to him. Then he wishes to be free, and to become master of his own world. He searches after a thread of direction for his destiny. He no longer asks the world spirit how he should arrange his own life. Rather, he strives after a firm command, after a sacred “you shall.” He looks for a yardstick by which he can measure the worth of things. He searches for a sign of differentiation between good and evil. There must be a rule for my life which is not dependent on me, on my own will: so speaks the spirit at this level. To this rule will I submit myself. I am free, the spirit means to say, but only free to obey such a rule.

[ 9 ] At this level, the spirit conquers. It becomes like the child at play, who does not ask, How shall I do this or that, but who merely carries out his own will, who follows only his own self. “The spirit now demands his own will; he who is lost in the world has now won his own world.”

[ 20 ] “I named for you three metamorphoses of the spirit: How the spirit became a camel, the camel a lion, and the lion at last, a child. Thus spake Zarathustra.”

14.

[ 21 ] What do the wise desire who place virtue above man? asks Zarathustra. They say, Only he who has done his duty, he who has followed the sacred “thou shalt,” can have peace of soul. Man shall be virtuous so that he may dream of fulfilled duty, about fulfilled ideals, and feel no pangs of conscience. The virtuous say that a man with pangs of conscience resembles one who is asleep and whose rest is disturbed by bad dreams.

[ 22 ] “Few know it, but one must have all virtues to sleep well. Do I bear false witness, do I commit adultery?

[ 23 ] “Do I lust after my neighbor's wife? All this is incompatible with good sleep.

[ 24 ] “Peace with God and with thy neighbor: this is what good sleep needs. And peace also with thy neighbor's devil! Otherwise it will haunt you at night.”

[ 25 ] The virtuous person does not do what his impulse tells him, but what produces his peace of soul. He lives so that he may peacefully dream about life. It is even more pleasant for him when his sleep, which he calls peace of soul is disturbed by no dreams. This means that it is most pleasant for the virtuous person when from some source or other he receives rules for his actions, and for the rest, he can enjoy his peace. “His wisdom is called, Wake, in order to sleep well. And indeed, if life had no meaning, and I should have to choose nonsense, to me this would be the most worthy nonsense to choose,” says Zarathustra.

[ 26 ] For Zarathustra also there was a time when he believed that a spirit dwelling outside of the world, a God, had created the world. Zarathustra imagined him to be an unsatisfied, suffering God. To create satisfaction for himself, to free himself from his suffering, God created the world; Zarathustra thought this, once upon a time. But he learned to understand that this is an illusion which he himself had created. “O you brothers, this God whom I created, was the work of a man and illusion of man, like all gods!” Zarathustra has learned to use his senses and to observe the world. And he becomes satisfied with the world; no longer do his thoughts sweep into the world beyond. Formerly he was blind, and could not see the world. For this reason he looked for salvation outside of the world. But Zarathustra has learned to see and to recognize that the world has meaning in itself.

[ 27 ] “My ego taught me a new pride, which I teach mankind: not to hide the head in the sand of celestial things, but to carry it freely, a terrestrial head, which carries meaning for the earth.”

15.

[ 8 ] The idealists have split man into body and soul, have divided all existence into idea and reality. And they have made the soul, the spirit, the idea, into something especially valuable in order that they may despise the reality, the body all the more. But Zarathustra says, There is but one reality, but one body, and the soul is only something in the body, the ideal is only something in reality. Body and soul of man are a unity; body and spirit spring from one root. The spirit is there only because a body is there, which has strength to develop the spirit in itself. As the plant unfolds the blossom from itself, so the body unfolds the spirit from itself.

[ 29 ] “Behind your thinking and your feeling, my brother stands a mighty master, an unknown wise one: he is called self. He lives within your body, he is your body.”

[ 30 ] The one with a sense for reality searches for the spirit, for the soul, in and about the real. He looks for intellect in the real; only he who considers reality as lacking in spirituality, as merely “natural,” as “coarse”—he gives the spirit, the soul a special existence. He makes reality merely the dwelling place of the spirit. But such a one also lacks the sense for the perception of the spirit itself. Only because he does not see the spirit in the reality does he search for it elsewhere.

[ 31 ] “There is more intelligence in your body than in your best wisdom.”

[ 32 ] “The body is one great intelligence, a plurality with one meaning, a war and a peace, a herd and a shepherd.

[ 33 ] “An instrument of your body is also your small intelligence, my brother, which you call spirit, a small instrument and a toy of your great intelligence.”

[ 34 ] He is a fool who would tear the blossom from the plant and believe the broken blossom will still develop into fruit. He is also a fool who would separate the spirit from nature and believe such a separated spirit can still create.

[ 35 ] Human beings with sick instincts have undertaken the separation of spirit and body. A sick instinct can only say, My kingdom is not of this world. The kingdom of a sound instinct is only this world.

16.

[ 36 ] But what ideals have they not created, these despisers of reality! If we look them in the eye, these ideals of the ascetics, who say, Turn your gaze away from this world, and look toward the other world, what then is the meaning of these ascetic ideals? With this question, and the suppositions with which he answers them, Nietzsche has let us look into the very depths of his heart, left unsatisfied by the more modern Western culture. (Genealogie der Moral, Section 3)

[ 37 ] When an artist like Richard Wagner, for example, becomes a follower of the ascetic ideal during his last period of creativity, this does not have too much significance. The artist places his entire life above his creations. He looks down from above upon his realities. He creates realities which are not his reality. “A Homer would not have created an Achilles, nor Goethe a Faust, if Homer had been an Achilles, or if Goethe had been a Faust.” (Genealogy, 3rd Section, ¶ 4). Now when such an artist once begins to take his own existence seriously, wishes to change himself and his personal opinion into reality, it is no wonder when something very unreal arises. Richard Wagner completely reversed his knowledge about his art when he became familiar with Schopenhauer's philosophy. Previously, he considered music as a means of expression which required something to which it gives expression—the drama. In his Opera and Drama, written in 1851, he says that the greatest error into which one can fall with regard to the opera is,

“That a means of expression (the music) is made the purpose, but the purpose of expression (the drama) is made the means.”

[ 38 ] He professed another opinion after he had come to know Schopenhauer's teaching about music. Schopenhauer is of the opinion that through music, the essence of the thing itself speaks to us. The eternal Will, which lives in all things, becomes embodied in all other arts only through images, through the ideas; music is no mere picture of the will: the will reveals itself in it directly. What appears to us in all our reflections only as image, the eternal ground of all existence, the will, Schopenhauer believed he heard directly in the sound of music. A message from the other world is brought to Schopenhauer by music. This point of view affected Richard Wagner. Thus he lets music no longer be a means of expression of real human passions as they are embodied in drama, but as a “sort of mouthpiece for the intrinsic essence of things, a telephone from the other world.” Richard Wagner now no longer believed in expressing reality in tones; “henceforth he talked not only music, this ventriloquist of God, but he talked metaphysics: no wonder that one day he talked ascetic ideals.” (Genealogy, 3rd Section, ¶ 5).

[ 39 ] If Richard Wagner had merely changed his opinion about the significance of music, then Nietzsche would have had no reason to approach him. At most Nietzsche could then say, Besides his art works Wagner has also created all sorts of wrong theories about art. But that during the last period of his creativity Wagner embodied in his an works the Schopenhauer belief in the world beyond, that he utilized his music to glorify the flight from reality, this was distasteful to Nietzsche.

[ 40 ] The Case of Wagner means nothing when it is a question of the significance of the glorification of the world beyond at the expense of this world, when it is a question of the significance of ascetic ideals. Artists do not stand on their own feet. As Richard Wagner is dependent upon Schopenhauer, so “at all times were the artists valets to a morality, a philosophy or a religion.”

[ 41 ] It is quite different when the philosophers represent a contempt of reality, of ascetic ideals. They do this out of a deep instinct.

[ 42 ] Schopenhauer betrayed this instinct through the description which he gives of the creating and enjoying of a work of art. “That the work of art makes the understanding of ideas, in which the aesthetic enjoyment consists, so much easier, depends not merely upon the fact that through emphasis of the material and discarding of the immaterial, art represents the things more clearly and more characteristically, but it depends much more upon the fact that the complete silence of the will, necessary for the objective understanding of the nature of things, is achieved with most certainty through the fact that the object looked upon does not lie at all within the realm of things which are capable of a relationship to will.” (Additions to the third book of Welt als Wille und Vorstellung, The World as Will and Reflection, Chapter 30) “When an outer circumstance or an inner soul mood lifts us suddenly out of the endless stream of willing, then knowledge takes away the slavish service of the will when attention is no longer directed to the motive of willing, but comprehends the things free from their relationship to will, that is, without interest, without subjectivity, considers them purely objectively, completely surrendered to them insofar as they are mere representations, not insofar as they are motives; then is begun the painless state which Epicurus praised as the highest good and as the state of the gods. Then, during that moment, we are freed from the contemptible pressure of the will; we celebrate the sabbath of the will's hard labor, the wheel of Ixion stands still.” Ibid. ¶ 38)

[ 43 ] This is a description of a type of aesthetic enjoyment which appears only with philosophers. Nietzsche contrasts this with another description “which a real spectator and artist has made—Stendhal,” who calls the beautiful une promesse de bonheur. Schopenhauer would like to exclude all will interest, all real life, when it is a question of the observation of a work of art, and would enjoy it only with the spirit; Stendhal sees in the work of art a promise of happiness, therefore, an indication for life, and sees the value of art in this connection of art with life.

[ 44 ] Kant demanded that a beautiful work of art should please without interest: that is, that the work of art lift us out of the reality of life and give us purely spiritual enjoyment.

[ 45 ] What does the philosopher look for in artistic enjoyment? Escape from reality. The philosopher wants to be transferred into an atmosphere foreign to reality, through works of art. Thereby he betrays his basic instinct. The philosopher feels most satisfied during those moments when he can be freed from reality. His attitude toward aesthetic enjoyment proves that he does not love this reality.

[ 46 ] In their theories the philosophers do not tell us what the spectator whose interests are turned toward life, demands of a work of art, but only what is of interest to themselves. And for the philosopher the turning away from life is very useful. He does not wish to have his hidden thought paths crossed by reality. Thinking flourishes better when the philosopher turns away from life. Then it is no wonder when this philosophical basic instinct becomes a mood almost hostile to life. We find that such a soul mood is cultivated by the majority of philosophers. And a very close connection exists between the fact that the philosopher develops and elaborates his own antipathy toward life into a teaching, and the fact that all men acknowledge such a teaching. Schopenhauer did this. He found that the noise of the world disturbed his thought work. He felt that one could meditate about reality better when one escaped from this reality. At the same time, he forgot that all thinking about reality has value only when it springs from this reality. He did not observe that the withdrawing of the philosopher from reality can occur only when the philosophical thoughts which have arisen out of this separation from life can be of higher service to life. When the philosopher wishes to force the basic instinct, which is only of value to him as a philosopher, upon the whole of mankind, then he becomes an enemy to life.

[ 47 ] The philosopher who does not regard the flight from the world as a means of creating thoughts friendly to the world, but as a purpose, as a goal in itself, can only create worthless things. The true philosopher flees from reality on the one hand, only that he may penetrate deeper into it on the other. But it is conceivable that this basic instinct can easily mislead the philosopher into considering the flight from the world as such to be valuable. Then the philosopher becomes a representative of world negation. He teaches a turning away from life, the ascetic ideal. He finds that “A certain asceticism, a hard and joyous renunciation of the best will, belongs to the favorable conditions of highest spirituality, as well as to their most natural consequences. So from the beginning it is not surprising if the ascetic ideal is never treated, particularly by the philosophers, without some objections.” (Genealogy, Part III, ¶ 9)

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[ 48 ] The ascetic ideals of the priests have another origin. What develops in the philosopher as the luxuriant grow of an impulse he considers justified, forms the basic ideal of the working and creating of the priest. The priest sees error in the surrender of the human being to real life; he demands that one respect this life less in face of another life, which is directed by higher than merely natural forces. The priest denies that real life has meaning in itself, and he challenges the idea that this meaning is given to it through an inoculation of a higher will. He sees life in the temporal as imperfect, and he places opposite to it an eternal, perfect life. The priest teaches a turning away from the temporal and entering into the eternal, the unchangeable. As especially significant of the way of thinking of the priest, I would like to quote a few sentences from the famous book, Die Deutsche Theologie, German Theology, which stems from the fourteenth century, and about which Luther says that from no other book, with the exception of the Bible, and the writings of St. Augustine, has he learned more about what God, Christ, and man are, than from this. Schopenhauer also finds that the spirit of Christianity is expressed more perfectly and more powerfully in this book than elsewhere. After the writer, who is unknown to us, has explained that all things of the world are imperfect and incomplete, in contrast to the perfect, “which in itself and in its essence comprehended all things and decided all things, and without which, and outside of which no true being exists, and in which all things have their being,” he continues that man can penetrate into this being only if he has lost all “creaturedom, creationdom, egodom, selfdom, and everything similar,” nullifying them in himself. What has flowed out of the perfect, and what the human being recognizes as his real world, is described in the following way: “That is no true being, and has no being other than in the perfect, but it is an accident or a radiance, and an illusion which is no being, or has no being other than in the fire from which the radiance streams, or in the sun, or in the light. The book says, as do belief, and truth, sin is nothing but that the creature turns away from the unchangeable good and turns toward the changeable, that is, that it turns away from the perfect to the incomplete and imperfect, and most of all to itself. Now note, If this creature takes on something good as existence, life, knowledge, understanding, possession, in short, all those things which one calls good, and thinks that they are good, or that it itself is good or that good belongs to it, or stems from it, just as often as this happens, so often does it turn itself away. In what way did the devil do anything different—or what was his fall and turning away—than that he thought he was something, and that that something was his, and also that something belonged to him? This acceptance, and his ‘I’ and his ‘me,’ his ‘to me,’ and his ‘mine’—all this was his turning away and his fall. Thus it is still ... For all that one considers good or would call good, belongs to no one, except to the eternal, true Good, who is God alone, and he who takes possession of it does wrong, and is against God.” (Chapters 1, 2, 4, of German Theology, 3rd edition)

[ 49 ] These sentences express the attitude of every priest. They express the particular character of the priesthood. And this character is exactly the opposite of that which Nietzsche describes as the more valuable, more worthy of life. The more highly valued type of man wants to be everything that he is, through himself alone; he wants all that he considers good and calls good to belong to no one but himself.

[ 50 ] But this mediocre attitude is no exception. It is one of “the most widespread, oldest facts that exist. Read from a distant star, perhaps, the writing of our earth existence would lead to the conclusion that the earth is the really ascetic star, a corner of dissatisfied, proud, disagreeable creatures who cannot free themselves from a deep dissatisfaction with themselves, with the earth, and with all life.” (Genealogy, Part III, ¶ 11) For this reason, the ascetic priest is a necessity, since the majority of human beings suffer from an “obstruction and fatigue” of life-forces because they suffer from reality. The ascetic priest is the comforter and physician of those who suffer from life. He comforts them by saying to them, This life from which you are suffering is not the real life; for those who suffer from this life, the true life is much more easily attainable than for the healthy, who depend upon this life and surrender themselves to it. Through such expressions the priest breeds contempt for, and betrayal of the real life. He finally brings forth the state of mind which says that to obtain the true life, the real life must be denied. In the spreading of this mood, the ascetic priest seeks his strength. Through the training of this soul mood, he eliminates a great danger which threatens the healthy, the strong, the ego-conscious, from the unhappy, the suppressed, the broken-down. The latter hate the healthy and the happy in body and soul, who take their strength from nature. This hatred, which must express itself, is that the weak wage a continuous war of annihilation against the strong. This the priest tries to suppress. Therefore, he represents the strong as those who lead a life which is worthless and unworthy of human beings, and, on the other hand, asserts that true life is obtainable only by those who were hurt by the earth life. “The ascetic priest must be accepted by us as the predestined saviour, shepherd, and champion of the sick herd; in this way we understand his tremendous historic mission for the first time. The domination over the sufferers is his kingdom. His instinct directs him toward it. In this he finds his own special art, his mastery, his form of happiness.” (Genealogy, Part III, ¶ 15)

It is no wonder that such a way of thinking finally leads to the fact that its followers not only despise life, but work directly toward its destruction. If it is said to man that only the sufferer, the weak, can really attain a higher life, then in the end the suffering, the weakness will be sought. To bring pain to oneself, to kill the will within oneself completely, will become the goal of life. The victims of this soul-mood are the saints. “Complete chastity and denial of all pleasure are for him who strives toward real holiness; throwing away of all possessions, desertion of every dwelling, of all dependents, deep, complete loneliness, spent in profound, silent reflection, with voluntary penitence and frightful, slow self-torture, to the complete mortification of the will, which finally dies voluntarily by hunger, or by walking toward crocodiles, by throwing oneself from sacred mountain heights in the Himalayas, by being buried alive, or by throwing oneself under the wheels of the Juggernaut driven among the statues of the idols, accompanied by the song, jubilation and dance of the Bajadere,” these are the ultimate fruits of the ascetic state of mind. (Schopenhauer, Welt als Wille und Vorstellung, World as Will and Representation, ¶ 68).

[ 51 ] This way of thinking has arisen out of the suffering of life, and it directs its weapons against life. When the healthy person, filled with joy of life, is infected by it, then it destroys the sound, strong instincts within him. Nietzsche's work towers above this in that in face of this teaching he brings out the value of another point of view for the healthy, for those of well-being. May the malformed, the ruined, find their salvation in the teaching of the ascetic priests; Nietzsche will gather the healthy about him, and will give them advice which will please them more than all ideals which are inimical to life.

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[ 52 ] The ascetic ideal is implanted in the guardians of modern science also. Of course, this science boasts that it has thrown all old beliefs overboard, and that it holds fast only to reality. It will consider nothing valid which cannot be counted, calculated, weighed, seen or grasped. That through this “one degrades existence to a slavish exercise in arithmetic and a game for mathematicians,” is of indifference to the modern scholar. (Fröhliche Wissenschaft, Joyful Science, ¶ 373). Such a scholar does not ascribe to himself the right to interpret the happenings of the world, which pass before his senses and his intellect, so that he can control them with his thinking. He says, Truth must be independent of my art of interpretation, and it is not up to me to create truth; instead, I must allow the world to dictate truth to me through world phenomena.

[ 53 ] The point to which this modern science finally comes when it contains within itself all arranging of world phenomena, has been expressed by Richard Wahle, a follower of this science, in a book which has just appeared: Das Ganze der Philosophie und ihr Ende, The Totality of Philosophy and its End. “What can the spirit who peers into this world-house and turns over the questions about the nature and goal of happenings, find as an answer at last? It has happened that as he stood so apparently in opposition to the world surrounding him, he became disentangled, and in a flight from all events, merged with all events. He no longer ‘knew’ the world. He said, I am not sure that those who know exist; perhaps there are simply events. They occur, of course, in such a way that the concept of a knowing could develop prematurely and without justification, and ‘concepts’ have sprouted up to bring light into these events, but they are will-o-the-wisps, souls of the desires for knowing, pitiful postulates of an empty form of knowledge, saying nothing in their evidence. Unknown factors must hold sway in the transitions. Darkness was spread over their nature. Events are the veil of the nature of truth.”

[ 54 ] That the human personality, out of its own capacities can instill meaning into the happenings of reality, and can supplement the unknown factors which rule in the transitions of events: modern scholars do not think at all about this. They do not want to interpret the flight from appearances by ideals which stem from their own personality. They want merely to observe and describe the appearances, but not interpret them. They want to remain with the factual, and will not allow the creative fantasy to make a dismembered picture of reality.

[ 55 ] When an imaginative natural scientist, for example, Ernst Haeckel, out of the results of individual observations, formulates a total picture of the evolution of organic life on earth, then these fanatics of factuality throw themselves upon him, and accuse him of transgression against truth. The pictures which he sketched about life in nature, they cannot see with their eyes or touch with their hands. They prefer the impersonal judgment to that which is colored by the spirit of the personality. They would prefer to exclude the personality completely from their observations.

[ 56] It is the ascetic ideal which controls the fanatics of factuality. They would like a truth beyond the personal individual judgment. What the human being can “imagine into” things, does not concern these fanatics. “Truth” to them is something absolutely perfect—a God; man should discover it, should surrender to it, but should not create it. At present, the natural scientists and the historians are enthused by the same spirit of ascetic ideals. Everywhere they enumerate in order to describe facts, and nothing more. All arranging of facts is forbidden. All personal judgment is to be suppressed.

[ 57 ] Atheists are also found among these modern scholars. But these atheists are freer spirits than their contemporaries who believe in God. The existence of God cannot be proven by means of modern science. Indeed, one of the brilliant minds of modern science, DuBois-Reymond, expressed himself thus about the acceptance of a “world-soul:” before the natural scientist decides upon such an acceptance he demands “That somewhere in the world, there be shown to him, bedded in nerve ganglia and nourished with warm, arterial blood under the correct pressure, a bundle of cell ganglia and nerve fibers, depending in size on the spiritual capacity of the soul.” (Grenzen des Naturerkennens, Limits of Natural Science, page 44). Modern science rejects the belief in God because this belief cannot exist beside their belief in “objective truth.” This “objective truth,” however, is nothing but a new God who has been victorious over the old one. “Unqualified, honest atheism (and we breathe only its air; we, the most intellectual human being of this age) does not stand in opposition to that (ascetic) ideal to the extent that it appears to; rather, it is one of its final phases of evolution, one of its ultimate forms, one of its logical consequences. It is the awe-inspiring catastrophe of a two thousand year training in truth, which finally forbids itself the lie of the belief in God.” (Genealogy, Part III, ¶ 27). Christ seeks truth in God because He considers God the source of all truth. The modern atheist rejects the belief in God because his god, his ideal of truth, forbids him this belief. In God the modern spirit sees a human creation; in “truth” he sees something which has come into being by itself without any human interference. The really “free spirit” goes still further. He asks, “What is the meaning of all will for truth?” Why truth? For all truth arises in that man ponders over the appearance of the world, and formulates thoughts about things. Man himself is the creator of truth. The “free spirit” arrives at the awareness of his own creation of truth. He no longer regards truth as something to which he subordinates himself; he looks upon it as his own creation.

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[ 58 ] People endowed with weak, malformed instincts of perception do not dare to attach meaning to world appearances out of the concept-forming power of their personality. They wish the “laws of nature” to stand before their senses as actual facts. A subjective world-picture, formed by the instrumentality of the human mind, appears worthless to them. But the mere observation of world events presents us with only a disconnected, not a detailed world picture. To the mere observer of things, no object, no event, appears more important, more significant than another. When we have considered it, the rudimentary organ of an organism which perhaps appears to have no significance for the evolution of life, stands there with exactly the same demand upon our attention as does the most noble part of the organism, so long as we look merely at the actual facts. Cause and effect are appearances following upon each other, which merge into each other without being separated by anything, so long as we merely observe them. Only when with our thinking, we begin to separate the appearances which have merged into each other, and relate them to each other intellectually, does a regular connection become visible. Thinking alone explains one appearance as cause and another as effect. We see a raindrop fall upon the earth and produce a groove. A being which is unable to think will not see cause and effect here, but only a sequence of appearances. A thinking being isolates the appearances, relates the isolated facts, and labels the one factor as cause, the other as effect. Through observation the intellect is stimulated to produce thoughts and to fuse these thoughts with the observed facts into a meaningful world-picture. Man does this because he wishes to control the sum of his observations with his thoughts. A thought-vacuum before him presses upon him like an unknown power. He opposes this power and conquers it by making it conceivable. All counting, weighing and calculating of appearances also comes about for the same reason. It is the will to power which lives itself out in this impulse for knowledge. (I have represented a process of knowledge in detail in my two writings, Wahrheit und Wissenschaft, Truth and Science, and Die Philosophie der Freiheit, The Philosophy of Freedom.)

[ 59 ] The dull, weak intellect does not want to admit to himself that it is he himself who interprets the appearances as expression of his striving toward power. He considers his interpretation also as an actual fact. And he asks, How does a man come to find such an actual fact in reality? He asks, for example, How is it that the intellect can recognize cause and effect in two appearances, one following upon the other? All theorists of knowledge, from Locke, Hume, Kant, down to the present time, have occupied themselves with this question. The subtleties which they have applied to this examination, have remained unfruitful. The explanation is given in the striving of the human intellect toward power. The question is not at all, Are judgments, thoughts about appearances, possible? but, Does the human intellect need such judgments? He needs them, hence he uses them, not because they are possible. It depends upon this: “To understand that for the sake of the preservation of creatures like ourselves such judgments must be believed to be true, though naturally they still may be false judgments!” (Jenseits von Gut und Böse, Beyond Good and Evil, ¶ 11) “And fundamentally we are inclined to assert that the most erroneous judgments are the most indispensable for us; that man could not live without belief in logical fiction, without measuring reality by the purely invented world of the unconditional, likening one's self to one's self, without a constant falsification of the world through number; that renunciation of false judgments would be a renunciation of life, a negation of life.” (Ibid, ¶ 4). Whoever regards this saying as a paradox, should remind himself how fruitful is the use of geometry in relation to reality, although nowhere in the world are really geometric, regular lines, planes, etc., to be found.

[ 60 ] When the dull, weak intellect understands that all judgments about things stem from within him, are all produced by him, and are fused with the observations, then he does not have the courage to use these judgments unreservedly. He says, judgments of this kind cannot transmit knowledge of the “true essence” of things to us. Therefore, this “true essence” remains excluded from our knowledge.

[ 61 ] The weak intellect tries in still another way to prove that no security can be attained through human knowledge. He says, The human being sees, hears, touches things and events. Thereby he perceives impressions of his sense organs. When he perceives a color, a sound, then he can only say, My eye, my ear are determined in a certain way to perceive color and tone. Man perceives nothing outside of himself except a determination, a modification of his own organs. In perceiving, his eyes, his ears, etc., become stimulated to feel in a certain way; they are placed in a certain condition. The human being perceives this condition of his own organs as colors, tones, odors, etc. In all perceiving, the human being perceives only his own conditions. What he calls the outer world is composed only of his own conditions; therefore, in a real sense it is his work. He does not know the things which cause him to spin the outer world out of himself; he only knows the effects upon his organs. In this light, the world appears like a dream which is dreamed by the human being, and is occasioned by something unknown.

[ 62 ] When this thought is brought to its consequential conclusion, it brings with it the following afterthought. Man knows only his own organs, insofar as he perceives them; they are parts of his world of perception. And man becomes conscious of his own self only to the extent that he spins pictures of the world out of himself. He perceives dream pictures, and in the midst of these dream pictures, an “I,” by which these dream pictures pass; every dream picture appears to be an accompaniment of this “I.” One can also say that each dream picture appears in the midst of the dream world, always in relation to this “I.” This “I” clings to these dream pictures as determination, as characteristic: Consequently, as a determination of dream pictures, it is a dream-like being itself. J. G. Fichte sums up this point of view in these words: “What develops through this knowing, and out of this knowing, is but a knowing. But all knowing is merely reflection, and something is always demanded of it which conforms to the picture. This demand cannot be satisfied by knowledge; and a system of knowledge is necessarily a system of mere pictures, without any reality, without significance, and without purpose.” For Fichte, “all reality” is a wonderful “dream without a life, which is being dreamed about, without a spirit who dreams.” It is a dream “which is connected with itself in a dream.” (Bestimmung des Menschen, Mission of Man, 2nd Book)

[ 63 ] What meaning has this whole chain of thoughts? A weak intellect, which does not dare to give meaning to the world out of himself, looks for this meaning in the world of observations. Of course, he cannot find it there because mere observation is void of thoughts.

[ 64 ] A strong, productive intellect uses his world of concepts to interpret the observations. The weak, unproductive intellect declares himself to be too powerless to do this, and says, I can find no sense in the appearances of the world; they are mere pictures which pass by me. The meaning of existence, therefore, must be looked for outside, beyond the world of appearances. Because of this, the world of appearances, that is, the human reality, is explained as a dream, an illusion, a Nothing, and “the true being” of appearances is searched for in a “thing in itself,” for which no observation, no knowledge is sufficient, that is, about which the knower can form no idea. Therefore, for the knower, this “true being” is a completely empty thought, the thought about a Nothing. For those philosophers who speak about the “thing in itself,” a dream is a world of appearances. But this Nothing they regard as the “true being” of the world of appearances. The whole philosophical movement which speaks about the “thing in itself,” and which, in more modern times, leans mainly upon Kant, is the belief in this Nothing; it is philosophical nihilism.

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[ 65 ] When the strong spirit looks for the cause of a human action and achievement, he will always find it in the will power of the individual personality. But the human being with a weak, timid intellect will not admit this. He doesn't feel himself sufficiently strong to make himself master and guide of his own actions. He interprets the impulses which guide him as the commandments of another power. He does not say, I act as I want to act, but he says, I act according to a law which I must obey. He does not wish to command himself; he wishes to obey. At one level of their development, human beings see their impulses to action as commandments of God; at another level, they believe that they are aware of a voice inside them, which commands them. In the latter case they do not dare to say, It is I myself who command; they assert, In me a higher will expresses itself. One person is of the opinion that it is his conscience which speaks to him in each individual case, and tells him how he should act, while another asserts that a categorical imperative commands him. Let us hear what J. G. Fichte says: “Something simply will happen because something just must happen; conscience now demands of me that it happen, and simply for this reason I am here; I am to realize it, and for that I have intellect. I am to achieve it, and for that I have strength.” (Ibid, Third Book) I mention J. G. Fichte's sayings with great pleasure because he maintained with iron consequence his opinion of the “weak and malformed.” He maintained it to the very end. One can only realize where this opinion finally leads when one looks for it where it was thought through to the end; one cannot depend upon those who are incomplete thinkers, who think each thought only to the middle.

[ 66 ] The fount of knowledge is not sought in individual personalities by those who think in the above mentioned way, but beyond personality in a “will in itself.” Just this “will in itself” shall speak to the individual as “God's voice,” as the “voice of conscience,” as categorical imperative, and so on. This is to be the universal leader of human actions, and the fount of all morality, and is also to determine the purpose of moral actions. “I say that it is the commandment to action itself which gives me a purpose through itself. It is the same in me which urges me to think that I should act in such a way, urges me to believe that out of these actions something will result; it opens the view to another world.” “As I live in obedience, at the same time I live in the reflection of its purposes; I live in the better world which it promises me.” (Ibid, Third Book) He who thinks thus, will not set a goal for himself; he will allow himself to be led to a goal by the higher will which he obeys. He will free himself from his own will, and will make himself into an instrument for “higher” purposes in words which express the highest; achievements of obedience and humility known to him. Fichte described the abandonment to this “eternal Will in itself.” “Lofty, living Will, which no name names and no concept encompasses, may I raise my soul to you, for you and I are not separated. Your voice sounds within me; mine resounds in you; and all my thoughts, when they are true and good, are thought within you. In you, the incomprehensible, I become comprehensible to myself, and the world becomes perfectly comprehensible to me. All problems of my existence are solved, and the most complete harmony arises within my spirit” ... “I veil my countenance before you. I lay my hand upon my mouth. As you yourself are, and as you appear to yourself, I can never understand, as certainly as I never could become you. After I have lived a thousand thousand spirit lives, I shall comprehend you as little as I do now in this hut upon earth.” (Ibid, Third Book)

[ 67 ] Where this will is finally to lead man, the individual cannot know. Therefore the one who believes in this will confesses that he knows nothing about the final purposes of his actions. For such a believer in a higher will, the goals which the individual sets for himself, are not “true goals.” Therefore, in place of the positive individual goals created by the individuum, he places a final purpose for the whole of mankind, the thought content of which, however, is a Nothing. Such a believer is a moral nihilist. He is caught in the worst kind of ignorance imaginable. Nietzsche wanted to deal with this type of ignorance in a special section of his incompleted work, Der Wille zur Macht, The Will to Power.

[ 68 ] We find the praise of moral nihilism again in Fichte's Bestimmung des Menschen, Destiny of Man (Third Book): “I shall not attempt what is denied me by the very Being of Limitations, and I shall not attempt what would avail me nothing. What you yourself are, I do not care to know. But your relationships and your connections with me, the Specific, and toward everything Specific, lie open before my eyes; may I become what I must become, and all this surrounds me in more brilliant clarity than the consciousness of my own existence. You create within me the knowledge of my duty, of my destiny, in the order of intelligent beings; how, I know not, nor do I need to know. You know, and you recognize what I think and what I will; how you can know it, through what act you achieve this consciousness, I understand nothing. Yes, I know very well that the concept of an act and of a special act of consciousness is valid only for me, but not for you, Infinite Being. You govern because you will that my free obedience has consequences to all eternity; the act of your willing I do not understand, and only know that it is not similar to mine. Your act and your will itself is a deed. But the way you work is exactly opposite to that way which I alone am able to understand. You live and you are because you know, will, and effectuate, ever present in the limited intellect, but you are not as I conceive a being to be through eternities.”

[ 69 ] Nietzsche places opposite to moral nihilism those goals which the creating individual will places before itself. Zarathustra calls to the teachers of the gospel of submission:

[ 70 ] “These teachers of the gospel of submission. Everywhere where there is smallness and sickness and dirt, there they creep like lice, and only my disgust prevents me from crushing them under foot.

“Attend! This is my gospel for their ears: I am Zarathustra, the godless, who asks, Who is more godless than I, that I may rejoice in his teaching?

“I am Zarathustra, the godless; where do I find my equal? All those are my equals who determine their will out of themselves, and who push all submission away from themselves.”

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[ 71 ] The strong personality which creates goals is disdainful of the execution of them. The weak personality, on the other hand, carries out only what the Divine Will, the “voice of conscience” or the “categorical imperative” says Yes to. That which is in accordance with this Yes, the weak person describes as good, that which is contrary to this Yes, it describes as evil. The strong personality cannot acknowledge this “good and evil,” for he does not acknowledge that power from which the weak person allows his “good and evil” to be determined. What the strong person wills is for him good; he carries it through in spite of all opposing powers. What disturbs him in this execution, he tries to overcome. He does not believe that an “Eternal Will” guides the decisions of all individual wills toward a great harmony, but he believes that all human development comes out of the will-impasses of the individual personalities, and that an eternal war is waged between the expressions of individual wills, in which the stronger will always conquers the weaker.

[ 72 ] The strong personality who lays down his own laws and sets his own goals, is described by the weaker and less courageous as evil, as sinful. He arouses fear, for he breaks through traditional ways; he calls that worthless which the weak person is accustomed to call valuable, and he invents the new, the previously unknown, which he describes as valuable. “Each individual action, each individual way of thinking causes shuddering; it is almost impossible to estimate exactly what those more uncommon, more select, more criminal spirits must have suffered in the course of history so that they were always regarded as bad, as dangerous, yes, even so that they themselves considered themselves in this light. Under the domination of custom, all originality of every kind has evoked a bad conscience. Up to this very time the heaven of the most admirable has become more darkened than it would have had to be.” (Morgenröte, Dawn, p. 9)

The truly free spirit makes original decisions immediately; the unfree spirit decides in accordance with his background. “Morality is nothing more (specifically, nothing more!) than obedience to customs of whatever nature these may be; but customs are the traditional way of acting and evaluating.” (Ibid, p. 9). It is this tradition which is interpreted by the moralists as “eternal will,” as “categorical imperative.” But every tradition is the result of natural impulses, of lives of individuals, of entire tribes, nations, and so on. It is also the product of natural causes, for example, the condition of the weather in specific localities. The free spirit explains that he does not feel himself bound by such tradition. He has his individual drives and impulses, and feels that these are not less justified than those of others. He transforms these impulses into action as a cloud sends rain to the earth's surface when causes for this exist. The free spirit takes his stand opposite to what tradition considers to be good and evil. He creates his own good and evil for himself.

[ 73 ] “When I came to men, I found them sitting there on an old presumption: they all assumed that they had long known what was good and evil for man.

“All debating about virtue seemed to them an old, worn-out affair, and he who wanted to sleep well, still spoke about good and evil before going to sleep.

“This sleepiness I disturbed by my teaching; what is good and what is evil, nobody knows; then let it be the creator.

“But that is he who creates man's goal and who gives meaning to the earth and to the future. It is he who first brings it about that there is something good and evil.” (Zarathustra, 3rd Part, From the Old and New Tablets)

[ 74 ] Besides this, when the free spirit acts according to tradition, he does this because he adopts the traditional motives, and because he does not consider it necessary in certain cases to put something new in place of the traditional.

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[ 75 ] The strong person seeks his life's task in working out his creative self. This self-seeking differentiates him from the weak person who, in the selfless surrender to that which he calls “good,” sees morality. The weak preach selflessness as the highest virtue, but their selflessness is only the consequence of their lack of creative power. If they had any creative self they would then have wished to manifest it. The strong person loves war because he needs war to manifest his creation in opposition to those powers hogstile to him.

[ 76 ] “Your enemy you shall seek, your war you shall wage, and as for your thoughts, if they succumb, then shall your very uprightness nevertheless attain triumph over their collapse!

[ 77 ] “You shall love peace as a means to a new war, and a short peace more than a long one.

[ 78 ] “I do not challenge you to work, but to fight. I do not challenge you to peace, but to victory. Your work be your struggle! Your peace be a victory!

[ 79 ] “You say that the good circumstance may even sanctify war, but I say to you, it is the ‘good’ war which sanctifies every circumstance.

[ 80 ] “War and courage have accomplished more great things than love for one's neighbor. Until now, not your sympathy but your courage has saved the unfortunate.” (Zarathustra, 1st Part, About War and People of War)

[ 81 ] The creative person acts without mercy and without regard for those who oppose. He has no cognizance of the virtue of those who suffer, namely, of sympathy. Out of his own power come his impulses to creativity, not out of his feelings for another's suffering. That power may conquer, for this he fights, not that suffering and weakness may be cared for. Schopenhauer has described the whole world as a hospital, and asked that the actions springing out of sympathy for suffering be considered as the highest virtue. Thereby he has expressed the morality of Christendom in another form than the latter itself has done. He who creates, though, does not feel himself destined to render these nursing services. The efficient ones, the healthy, cannot exist for the sake of the weak, the sick. Sympathy weakens power, courage, and bravery.

[ 82 ] Sympathy seeks to maintain just what the strong wishes to overcome, that is, the weakness, the suffering. The victory of the strong over the weak is the meaning of all human as well as of all natural development. “Life in its essence is a usurping, a wounding, an overcoming of the strange, of all that is misfit and weak. Life is the suppressing, the hardening and forcing through of one's own forms, the embodying, and, in the least and mildest, the erupting in boils.” (Jenseits van Gut und Böse, Beyond Good and Evil, ¶ 259).

[ 83 ] “And do you not wish to be a dealer of destiny and unmerciful? How else can you be mine or conquer with me?”

“And if your hardness will not strike as lightning and cleave and cut, how then can you ever create with me?

“For the creators are hard, and it must seem to you a blessing to press your hand upon the millennia as if upon wax.

“A blessing to inscribe upon the will of millennia as if upon bronze, harder than bronze, more precious than bronze. Entirely hard is the most precious alone.

“This new tablet, O my brothers, I raise above you, thou shalt become hard.” (Zarathustra, 3rd Part, From the Old and New Tablets)

[ 84 ] The free spirit makes no demands upon sympathy. He would have to ask the one who would pity him, Do you consider me as weak, that I cannot bear my suffering by myself? For him, each expression of sympathy is humiliating. Nietzsche shows this aversion of the strong person toward sympathy in the fourth part of Zarathustra. In his wanderings Zarathustra arrives in a valley which is called “Snake Death.” No living beings are found here. Only a kind of ugly green snake comes here in order to die. The “most ugly human being” has found this valley. He does not wish to be seen by anyone because of his ugliness. In this valley he sees no one besides God, but even His countenance he cannot bear. The consciousness that God's gaze has penetrated into all these regions becomes a burden for him. For this reason he has killed God, that is, he has killed the belief in God within himself. He has become an atheist because of his ugliness. When Zarathustra sees this human being, he is overcome by what he believed he had destroyed within himself forever: that is, sympathy for the most frightful ugliness. This becomes a temptation for Zarathustra, but very soon he rejects the feeling of sympathy and again becomes hard. The most ugly man says to him, “Your hardness honors my ugliness. I am too rich in ugliness to be able to bear the sympathy of any human being. Sympathy humiliates.”

[ 85 ] He who requires sympathy cannot stand alone, and the free spirit wishes to stand completely on his own.

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[ 86 ] The weak are not content with pointing to the natural will to power as the cause of human actions. They do not merely seek for natural connections in human development, but they seek for the relationship of human action to what they call the “will in itself,” the eternal, moral world order. They accuse the one who acts contrary to this world order. And they also are not satisfied to evaluate an action according to its natural consequences, but they claim that a guilty action also draws with it moral consequences, i.e., punishment. They consider themselves guilty if their actions are not in accord with the moral world order; they turn away in horror from the fount of evil in themselves, and they call this feeling bad conscience. The strong personality, on the other hand, does not consider all these concepts valid. He is concerned only with the natural consequences of actions. He asks, Of what value for life is my way of acting? Is it in accord with what I have willed? The strong cannot grieve when an action goes wrong, when the result does not accord with his intentions. But he does not blame himself. For he does not measure his way of acting by supernatural yardsticks. He knows that he has acted thus in accord with his natural impulses, and at most he can regret that these are not better. It is the same with his judgment regarding the actions of others. A moral evaluation of actions he does not grant. He is an amoralist.

[ 87 ] What tradition considers to be evil the amoralist looks upon as the outstreaming of human instincts, in fact, as good. He does not consider punishment as morally necessary but merely as a means of eradicating instincts of certain human beings which are harmful to others. According to the opinion of the amoralist, society does not punish for this reason but because it has “moral right” to expiate the guilt, and because it proves itself stronger than the individual who has instincts which are antagonistic to the whole. The power of society stands against the power of the individual. This is the natural connection between an “evil” action of the individual and the justification of society, leading to the punishment of the individual. It is the will to power, namely, the acting of these instincts present in the majority of human beings, which expresses itself in the administration of justice in society. Thus, each punishment is the victory of a majority over an individual. Should the individual be victorious over society, then his action must be considered good, and that of others, evil. The arbitrary right expresses only what society recognizes as the best basis of their will to power.

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[ 88 ] Because Nietzsche sees in human action only an outstreaming of instincts, and these latter differ according to different people, it seems necessary to him that their actions also be different. For this reason, Nietzsche is a decided opponent of the democratic premise, equal rights and equal duties for all. Human beings are dissimilar; for this reason their rights and duties also must be dissimilar. The natural course of world history will always point out strong and weak, creative and uncreative human beings. And the strong will always be destined to determine the goals of the weak. Yes, still more: the strong will make use of the weak as the means toward a certain goal, that is, to serve as slaves. Nietzsche naturally does not speak about the “moral” right of the strong to keep slaves. “Moral” rights he does not acknowledge. He is simply of the opinion that the overcoming of the weak by the strong, which he considers as the principle of all life, must necessarily lead toward slavery.

[ 89 ] It is also natural that those overcome will rebel against the overcomer. When this rebellion cannot express itself through a deed it will at least express itself in feeling, and the expression of this feeling is revenge, which dwells steadily in the hearts of those who in some way or other have been overcome by those more fortunately endowed. Nietzsche regards the modern social democratic movement as a streaming forth of this revenge. For him, the victory of this movement would be a raising of the deformed, poorly endowed to the disadvantage of those better equipped. Nietzsche strove for exactly the opposite: the cultivation of the strong, self-dominant personality. And he hates the urge to equalize everything and to allow the sovereign individuality to disappear in the ocean of universal mediocrity.

[ 90 ] Not that each shall have the same and enjoy the same, says Nietzsche, but each should have and enjoy what he can attain by his own personal effort.

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[ 91 ] What the human being is worth depends only upon the value of his instincts. By nothing else can the value of the human being be determined. One speaks about the worth of work, or the value of work, or that work shall ennoble the human being. But in itself work has absolutely no value. Only through the fact that it serves man does it gain a value. Only insofar as work presents itself as a natural consequence of human inclinations, is it worthy of the human being. He who makes himself the servant of work, lowers himself. Only the human being who is unable to determine his own worth for himself, tries to measure this worth by the greatness of his work, of his achievement. It is characteristic of the democratic bourgeoisie of modern times that in the evaluation of the human being they let themselves be guided by his work. Even Goethe is not free from this attitude. He lets his Faust find the full satisfaction in the consciousness of work well done.

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[ 92 ] Art also has value, according to Nietzsche's opinion, only when it serves the life of the individual human being. And in this Nietzsche is a representative of the opinion of the strong personality, and rejects everything that the weak instincts express about art. All German aesthetes represent the point of view of the weak instincts. Art should represent the “infinite” in the “finite,” the “eternal” in the “temporal,” and the “idea” in the “reality.” For Schelling, as an example, all sensual beauty is but a reflection of that infinite beauty which we can never perceive with our senses. The work of art is never there for the sake of itself, nor is beautiful through what it is, but only because it reflects the idea of the beautiful. The sense picture is only a means of expression, only the form for a supersensible content, and Hegel calls the beautiful, “the sense filled appearance of the Idea.” Similar thoughts also can be found among other German aesthetes. For Nietzsche, art is a life-fostering element, and only when this is the case, has it justification. The one who cannot bear life as he directly perceives it, transforms it according to his requirements, and thereby creates a work of art. And what does the one who enjoys it demand from the work of art? He demands heightening of his joy of life, the strengthening of his life forces, satisfaction of his requirements, which reality does not do for him. But in the work of art, when his senses are directed toward the real, he will not see any reflection of the divine or of the superearthy. Let us hear how Nietzsche describes the impression Bizet's Carmen made upon him: “I become a better man when Bizet speaks to me. Also a better musician, a better listener. Is it at all possible to listen still better? I continue to bury my ears beneath this music; I hear its wellsprings. It seems to me that I experience its development, its evolving. I tremble in face of dangers which accompany any daring adventure. I am delighted with happy fortunes for which Bizet is not responsible. And, strange, fundamentally I do not think about it, nor do I even know how much I ponder about it. For, meanwhile, entirely different thoughts run through my head. Has one noticed that music frees the spirit, gives wings to the thoughts, that one becomes more of a philosopher, the more one becomes a musician, that the grey heavens of abstraction are lighted by flashes of lightning, that the light is strong enough for all the tracery of things, the large problems near enough for grasping, and the world is seen as from a mountain? I have just defined philosophical pathos. And, inadvertently, answers fall into my lap, a small hail of ice and wisdom, of solved problems. Where am I? Bizet makes me fruitful. All good makes me fruitful. I have no other gratitude, I also have no other measure for that which is good.” (Case of Wagner, ¶ 1.) Since Richard Wagner's music did not make such an impression upon him, Nietzsche rejected it: “My objections to Wagner's music are physiological objections. ... As a fact, my petit fait vrai is that I no longer breathe easily when this music first begins to work upon me; that soon my foot becomes angry with it and revolts: it desires to beat, dance, march. It demands first of all from the music the pleasures which lie in good walking, striding dancing. But doesn't my stomach also protest? My heart? My circulation? Do not my intestines also grieve? Do I not become unknowingly hoarse? And so I ask myself, ‘What does my entire body really want from this music?’ I believe that it seeks levitation. It is as if all animal functions become accelerated through these light, bold, abandoned, self-sure rhythms; as if the brazen, leaden life would lose its weight through the golden tender flow of oily melodies. My melancholy heaviness could rest in the hide and seek and in the abysses of perfection; but for that I need music.” (Nietzsche contra Wagner)

[ 93 ] At the beginning of his literary career Nietzsche deceived himself about what his instincts demanded from art, and thus at that time he was a disciple of Wagner. He had allowed himself to be lead astray into idealism through the study of Schopenhauer's philosophy. He believed in idealism for a certain time, and conjured up before himself artistic needs, ideal needs. Only in the further course of his life did he notice that all idealism was exactly contrary to his impulses. Now he became more honest with himself. He expressed only what he himself felt. And this could only lead to the complete rejection of Wagner's music, which as a mark of Wagner's last working aim, assumed an ever more ascetic character, as mentioned above.

[ 94 ] The aesthetes who demand that art make the ideal tangible, that it materialize the divine, in this field present an opinion similar to the philosophical nihilist in the field of knowledge and morality. In the objects of art they search for a beyond which, before the sense of reality, dissolves itself into a nothingness. There is also an aesthetic nihilism.

[ 95 ] This stands in contrast to the aestheticism of the strong personality, which sees in art a reflection of reality, a higher reality, which man would rather enjoy than the commonplace.

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[ 96 ] Nietzsche places two types of human beings opposite each other: the weak and the strong. The first type looks for knowledge as an objective fact, which should stream from the outer world into his spirit. He allows himself to have his good and evil dictated by an “eternal world will” or a “categorical imperative.” He identifies each action as sin which is not determined by this world will, but only by the creative self-will, a sin which must entail a moral punishment. The weak would like to prescribe equal rights for all human beings, and to determine the worth of the human being according to an outer yardstick. He would finally see in art a reflection of the divine, a message from the beyond. The strong, on the contrary, sees in all knowledge an expression of the will to power. Through knowledge he attempts to make all things conceivable, and, as a consequence, to make them subject to himself. He knows that he himself is the creator of truth, and that no one but himself can create his good and his evil. He regards the actions of human beings as the consequences of natural impulses, and lets them count as natural events which are never regarded as sins and do not warrant a moral judgment. He looks for the value of a man in the efficiency of the latter's instincts. A human being with instincts of health, spirit, beauty, perseverance, nobility he values higher than one with instincts of weakness, ugliness or slavery. He values a work of art according to the degree to which it enhances his forces.

[ 97 ] Nietzsche understands this latter type of man to be his superman. Until now, such supermen could come about only through the coalescing of accidental conditions. To make their development into the conscious goal of mankind is the intention of Zarathustra. Until now, one saw the goal of human development in various ideas. Here Nietzsche considers a change of perception to be necessary. “The more valuable type has been described often enough, but as a happy fortune, as an exception, never as consciously willed. Moreover, he specifically is most feared; until now he was almost the most terrible one; and out of the terror the reverse type was willed, bred, achieved: the domestic animal, the herd animal, the sick animal man—the Christ.” (Antichrist, ¶ 3.)

[ 98 ] Zarathustra's wisdom is to teach about the superman, toward which that other type was only a transition.

[ 99 ] Nietzsche calls this wisdom, Dionysian. It is wisdom which is not given to man from without; it is a self-created wisdom. The Dionysian wise one does not search; he creates. He does not stand as a spectator outside of the world he wishes to know; he becomes one with his knowledge. He does not search after a God; what he can still imagine to himself as divine is only himself as the creator of his own world. When this condition extends to all forces of the human organism, the result is the Dionysian human being, who cannot misunderstand a suggestion; he overlooks no sign of emotions; he has the highest level of understanding and divining instinct, just he possesses the art of communication in the highest degree. He enters into everything, into every emotion; he transforms himself continually. In contrast to the Dionysian wise one, stands the mere observer, who believes himself to be always outside his objects of knowledge, as an objective suffering spectator. The Apollonian stands opposite to the Dionysian human being. The Apollonian is he who, “above all, keeps the eye very active so that it receives the power of vision.” Visions, pictures of things which stand beyond the reality of mankind: the Apollonian spirit strives for these, and not for that wisdom created by himself.

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[ 100 ] The Apollonian wisdom has the character of earnestness. It feels the domination of the Beyond, which it only pictures, as a heavy weight, as an opposing power. The, Apollonian wisdom is serious for it believes itself to be in possession of a message from the Beyond, even if this is only transmitted through pictures and visions. The Apollonian spirit wanders about, heavily laden with his knowledge, for he carries a burden which stems from another world. And he takes on the expression of dignity because, confronted with the annunciation of the infinite, all laughter must be stilled.

[ 101 ] But this laughing is characteristic of the Dionysian spirit. The latter knows that all he calls wisdom is only his own wisdom, invented by him to make his life; easier. This one thing alone shall be his wisdom: namely, a means which permits him to say Yes to life. To the Dionysian human being, the spirit of heaviness is repellent, because it does not lighten life, but oppresses it. The self-created wisdom is a merry wisdom, for he who creates his own burden, creates one which he can also carry easily. With this self-created wisdom, the Dionysian spirit moves lightly through the world like a dancer.

[ 102 ] “But that I am good to wisdom, and often too good, is because she reminds me so very much of life itself. [ 103 ] She has the eye of life, her laughter and even her golden fishing rod; how can I help it that the two are so alike? [ 104 ] Into your eye I gazed recently, O Life: gold I saw flickering in your eyes of night! My heart stood still before such joy.[ 105 ] A golden boat I saw flickering on the waters of night, a sinking, drinking, ever-winking, golden, rocking boat!

[ 106 ] “Upon my foot, so wild to dance, you cast a glance, a laughing questioning, a melting, rocking glance. [ 107 ] Twice only you shook your castanet with tiny hands. Thereupon, my foot rocked with urge to dance.

[ 108 ] “My heels arched themselves, my toes listened to understand you. Indeed, the dancer carries his ear—in his toes!” (Zarathustra – 2nd and 3rd Parts. “The Dance Song.”)

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[ 109 ] Since the Dionysian spirit draws out of himself all impulses for his actions and obeys no external power, he is a free spirit. A free spirit follows only his own nature. Now of course in Nietzsche's works one speaks about instincts as the impulses of the free spirit. I believe that here under one name Nietzsche has collected a whole range of impulses requiring a consideration which goes more into individual differentiations. Nietzsche calls instincts those impulses for nourishment and self preservation present in animals, as well as the highest impulses of human nature, for example, the urge toward knowledge, the impulse to act according to moral standards, the drive to refresh oneself through works of art, and so on. Now, of course, all these impulses are forms of expression of one and the same fundamental force, but they do represent different levels in the development of this power. The moral instincts, for example, are a special level of instinct. Even if it is only admitted that they are but higher forms of sensory instinct, nevertheless they do appear in a special form within man's existence. This shows itself in that it is possible for man to carry out actions which cannot be led back to sensory instincts directly, but only to those impulses which can be defined as higher forms of instinct. The human being himself creates impulses for his own actions, which are not to be derived from his own sensory impulses, but only from conscious thinking. He puts individual purposes before himself, but he puts these before himself consciously, and there is a great difference whether he follows an instinct which arose unconsciously and only afterward was taken into consciousness, or whether he follows a thought which he produced from the very beginning with full consciousness. When I eat because my impulse for nourishment drives me to it, this is something essentially different from my solving a mathematical problem. But the conceptual grasp of world phenomena presents a special form of general perceptability. It differentiates itself from mere sensory perception. For the human being, the higher forms of development of the life of instinct are just as natural as the lower. If both of them are not in harmony, then he is condemned to unfreedom. The case may be that a weak personality, with entirely healthy sense instincts, has but weak spiritual instincts. Then of course he will develop his own individuality in regard to the life of senses, but he will draw the thought impulses of his actions from tradition. Disharmony can develop between both worlds of impulses. The sense impulses press toward a living out of one's own personality; the spiritual impulses are fettered to outer authority. The spiritual life of such a personality will be tyrannized by the sensuous, the sensuous life by the spiritual instincts. This is because both powers do not belong together, and have not grown out of a single state of being. Therefore, to the really free personality belongs not only a soundly developed individualized life of sense impulses, but also the capacity to create for himself the thought impulses for life. Only that man is entirely free who can produce thoughts out of himself which can lead to action, and in my book, Die Philosophie der Freiheit, The Philosophy of Freedom, I have called the capacity to produce pure thought motives for action, “moral fantasy.” Only the one who has this moral fantasy is really free, because the human being must act in accordance with conscious motives. And when he cannot produce the latter out of himself, then he must let himself be given them by outer authority or by tradition, which speaks to him in the form of the voice of conscience. A man who abandons himself merely to sensual instincts, acts like an animal; a human being who places his sensuous instincts under another's thoughts, acts unfreely; only the human being who creates for himself his own moral goals, acts in freedom. Moral fantasy is lacking in Nietzsche's teaching. The one who carries Nietzsche's thoughts to their conclusion must necessarily come to this insight. But in any case, it is an absolute necessity that this insight be added to Nietzsche's world conception. Otherwise one could always object to his conception thus: Indeed the Dionysian man is no slave to tradition or to the “will beyond,” but he is a slave of his own instincts.

[ 110 ] Nietzsche looked toward the original, essential personality of the human being. He tried to separate this essential personality from the cloak of the impersonal in which it had been veiled by a world conception hostile to reality. But he did not come to the point where he differentiated the levels of life within the personality itself. Therefore he underestimated the significance of consciousness for the human personality. “Consciousness is the last and most recent development of the organic, and consequently the least prepared and the weakest. Out of consciousness come innumerable errors, which bring it about that an animal, a human being, disintegrates earlier than otherwise would be necessary—collapses ‘over his destiny,’ as Homer says. If the preserved union of instincts were not so overwhelmingly powerful, if, on the whole it did not serve as a regulator, mankind would go to pieces because of their confused judgment, spinning fantasies with open eyes through their superficiality and gullibility. In short, just because of their consciousness, mankind must be destroyed,” says Nietzsche (Fröhliche Wissenschaft, Joyful Science, ¶ 11.)

[ 111 ] Indeed, this is entirely admitted, but it does not affect the truth that the human being is free only insofar as he can create within his consciousness thought motives for his actions.

[ 112 ] But the contemplation of thought motives leads still further. It is a fact based upon experience, that these thought motives which the human being produces out of himself, nevertheless manifest an overall consistency to a certain degree in single individuals. Also, when the individual human being creates thoughts in complete freedom out of himself, these correspond in a certain way with the thoughts of other human beings. For this reason, the free person is justified in assuming that harmony in human society enters of its own accord when society consists of sovereign individualities. With this opinion he can confront the defender of unfreedom, who believes that the actions of a majority of human beings only accord with each other when they are guided by an external power toward a common goal. For this reason the free spirit is most certainly not a disciple of that opinion which would allow the animal instincts to reign in complete freedom, and hence would do away with all law and order. Moreover, he demands complete freedom for those who do not merely wish to follow their animal instincts, but who are able to create their own moral impulses, their own good and evil.

[ 113 ] Only he who has not penetrated Nietzsche so far as to be able to form the ultimate conclusions of his world conception, granted that Nietzsche himself has not formed them, can see in him a human being who, “with a certain stylized pleasure, has found the courage to unveil what perhaps lurked hidden in some of the most secret depths of the souls of flagrant criminal types.” (Ludwig Stein, Friedrich Nietzsches Weltanschauung und ihre Gefahren, Friedrich Nietzsche's World Conception and its Dangers, p. 5.) Still today the average education of a German professor has not reached the point of being able to differentiate between the greatness of a personality and his small errors. Otherwise, one could not observe that such a professor's criticism is directed toward just these small errors. I believe that true education accepts the greatness of a personality and corrects small errors, or brings incomplete thoughts to conclusion.

2. Der Übermensch

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[ 1 ] Alles Streben des Menschen besteht, wie das eines jeden Lebewesens, darin, von der Natur eingepflanzte Triebe und Instinkte in der besten Weise zu befriedigen. Wenn die Menschen nach Tugend, Gerechtigkeit, Erkenntnis und Kunst streben, so geschieht dies deshalb, weil Tugend, Gerechtigkeit und so weiter Mittel sind, durch die die menschlichen Instinkte sich so entwickeln können, wie es deren Natur entsprechend ist. Die Instinkte würden ohne diese Mittel verkümmern. Es ist nun eine Eigentümlichkeit des Menschen, dass er diesen Zusammenhang seiner Lebensbedingungen mit seinen natürlichen Trieben vergisst und jene Mittel zu einem naturgemäßen, machtvollen Leben als etwas ansieht, das an sich einen unbedingten Wert hat. Der Mensch sagt dann: Tugend, Gerechtigkeit, Erkenntnis und so weiter müssen um ihrer selbst willen erstrebt werden. Sie haben nicht dadurch einen Wert, dass sie dem Leben dienen, sondern vielmehr das Leben erhalte erst einen Wert dadurch, dass es nach jenen idealen Gütern strebt. Der Mensch sei nicht dazu da, nach Maßgabe seiner Instinkte zu leben, wie das Tier; sondern er solle seine Instinkte dadurch adeln, dass er sie in den Dienst höherer Zwecke stelle. Auf diese Weise kommt der Mensch dazu, das, was er selbst erst zur Befriedigung seiner Triebe geschaffen hat, als Ideale anzubeten, die seinem Leben erst die rechte Weihe geben. Er fordert Unterwerfung unter die Ideale, die er höher schätzt, als sich selbst. Er löst sich los von dem Mutterboden der Wirklichkeit und will seinem Dasein einen höheren Sinn und Zweck geben. Er erfindet einen unnatürlichen Ursprung für seine Ideale. Er nennt sie den «Willen Gottes», die «ewigen sittlichen Gebote». Er will die «Wahrheit um der Wahrheit willen», «die Tugend um der Tugend willen» anstreben. Er betrachtet sich als einen guten Menschen erst dann, wenn es ihm angeblich gelungen ist, seine Selbstsucht, das heißt seine natürlichen Instinkte zu bändigen und selbstlos einem idealen Ziele zu folgen. Einem solchen Idealisten gilt der Mensch als unedel und «böse», der es bis zu solcher Selbstüberwindung nicht gebracht hat.

[ 2 ] Nun stammen ursprünglich alle Ideale aus natürlichen Instinkten. Auch was der Christ als Tugend ansieht, die ihm Gott geoffenbart hat, ist ursprünglich von Menschen erfunden, um irgendwelche Instinkte zu befriedigen. Der natürliche Ursprung ist vergessen und der göttliche hinzugedichtet worden. Ähnlich verhält es sich mit den Tugenden, die die Philosophen und Moralprediger aufstellen.

[ 3 ] Wenn die Menschen bloß gesunde Instinkte hätten und diesen gemäß ihre Ideale bestimmten, so würde der theoretische Irrtum über den Ursprung dieser Ideale nicht schaden. Die Idealisten hätten zwar falsche Ansichten über die Herkunft ihrer Ziele, aber diese Ziele selbst wären gesund, und das Leben müsste gedeihen. Aber es gibt ungesunde Instinkte, die nicht auf Stärkung, Förderung des Lebens, sondern auf dessen Schwächung, Verkümmerung abzielen. Diese bemächtigen sich des genannten theoretischen Irrtums und machen ihn zum praktischen Lebenszwecke. Sie verleiten den Menschen, zu sagen: ein vollkommener Mensch ist nicht derjenige, der sich selbst, seinem Leben dienen will, sondern derjenige, der sich der Verwirklichung eines Ideals hingibt. Unter dem Einfluss dieser Instinkte bleibt der Mensch nicht bloß dabei stehen, irrtümlich seinen Zielen einen un- oder übernatürlichen Ursprung anzudichten, sondern er macht sich wirklich solche Ideale zurecht oder übernimmt sie von anderen, die nicht den Bedürfnissen des Lebens dienen. Er strebt nicht mehr darnach, die in seiner Persönlichkeit liegenden Kräfte ans Tageslicht zu ziehen, sondern er lebt nach einem seiner Natur aufgezwungenen Musterbilde. Ob er dieses Ziel einer Religion entnimmt, oder ob er es selbst auf Grund gewisser, nicht in seiner Natur liegenden Voraussetzungen bestimmt: darauf kommt es nicht an. Der Philosoph, der einen allgemeinen Zweck der Menschheit im Auge hat und aus diesem seine sittlichen Ideale ableitet, legt der menschlichen Natur ebenso Fesseln an, wie der Religionsstifter, der den Menschen sagt: dies ist das Ziel, das euch Gott gesetzt hat; und dem müsst ihr folgen. Es ist auch gleichgültig, ob der Mensch sich vorsetzt, ein Ebenbild Gottes zu werden, oder ob er ein Ideal des «vollkommenen Menschen» erfindet und diesem möglichst ähnlich werden will. Wirklich ist nur der einzelne Mensch und die Triebe und Instinkte dieses einzelnen Menschen. Nur wenn er auf die Bedürfnisse seiner eigenen Person sein Augenmerk richtet, kann der Mensch erfahren, was seinem Leben frommt. Der einzelne Mensch wird nicht «vollkommen», wenn er sich verleugnet und einem Vorbilde ähnlich wird, sondern wenn er das verwirklicht, was in ihm zur Verwirklichung drängt. Die menschliche Tätigkeit erhält nicht erst einen Sinn, wenn sie einem unpersönlichen, äußeren Zwecke dient; sie hat ihren Sinn in sich selbst.

[ 4 ] Der Anti-Idealist wird zwar auch in der ungesunden Abkehr des Menschen von seinen ureigenen Instinkten noch eine Instinktäußerung erblicken. Er weiß, dass der Mensch selbst das Instinktwidrige nur aus Instinkt vollbringen kann. Er wird aber doch die Instinktwidrigkeit bekämpfen, wie der Arzt eine Krankheit bekämpft, trotzdem er weiß, dass sie naturgemäß aus bestimmten Ursachen entstanden ist. Es darf also dem Anti-Idealisten nicht der Einwurf gemacht werden: du behauptest, alles, was der Mensch erstrebt, also auch alle Ideale, seien naturgemäß entstanden; dennoch bekämpfst du den Idealismus. Gewiss entstehen Ideale ebenso naturgemäß wie Krankheiten; aber der Gesunde bekämpft den Idealismus, wie er die Krankheit bekämpft. Der Idealist aber sieht die Ideale als etwas an, das gehegt und gepflegt werden muss.

[ 5 ] Der Glaube, dass der Mensch vollkommen erst wird, wenn er «höheren» Zwecken dient, ist, nach Nietzsches Meinung, etwas, das überwunden werden muss. Der Mensch muss sich auf sich selbst besinnen und erkennen, dass er Ideale nur erschaffen hat, um sich zu dienen. Naturgemäß leben, ist gesünder, als Idealen nachjagen, die angeblich nicht aus der Wirklichkeit stammen. Den Menschen, der nicht unpersönlichen Zielen dient, sondern der den Zweck und Sinn seines Daseins in sich selbst sucht, der solche Tugenden zu den seinigen macht, die seiner Kraftentfaltung, seiner Machtvollkommenheit dienen — diesen Menschen stellt Nietzsche höher als den selbstlosen Idealisten.

[ 6 ] Dies ist es, was er durch seinen «Zarathustra» verkündet. Das souveräne Individuum, das weiß, dass es nur aus seiner Natur heraus leben kann, und das in einer seinem Wesen entsprechenden Lebensgestaltung sein persönliches Ziel sieht, ist für Nietzsche der Übermensch, im Gegensatz zu dem Menschen, der glaubt: ihm sei das Leben geschenkt, um einem außer ihm selbst liegenden Zwecke zu dienen.

[ 7 ] Den Übermenschen, das heißt den Menschen, der naturgemäß zu leben versteht, lehrt Zarathustra. Er lehrt die Menschen, ihre Tugenden als ihre Geschöpfe betrachten; er heißt sie diejenigen verachten, die ihre Tugenden höher als sich selbst achten.

[ 8 ] Zarathustra ist in die Einsamkeit gegangen, um sich frei zu machen von der Demut, in der sich die Menschen beugen vor ihren Tugenden. Er geht erst wieder unter Menschen, als er die Tugenden verachten gelernt hat, die das Leben bändigen und nicht dem Leben dienen wollen. Er bewegt sich nun leicht wie ein Tänzer, denn er folgt nur sich und seinem Willen und achtet nicht auf die Linien, die ihm von den Tugenden vorgezeichnet werden. Nicht schwer mehr lastet der Glaube auf seinem Rücken, dass es unrecht sei, nur sich selbst zu folgen. Zarathustra schläft nun nicht mehr, um von Idealen zu träumen; er ist ein Wachender, der der Wirklichkeit sich frei gegenüberstellt. Ein schmutziger Strom ist ihm der Mensch, der sich selbst verloren hat und vor seinen eigenen Geschöpfen im Staube liegt. Der Übermensch ist ihm ein Meer, das diesen Strom aufnimmt, ohne selbst unrein zu werden. Denn der Übermensch hat sich selbst gefunden; er erkennt sich als Herrn und Schöpfer seiner Tugenden. Zarathustra hat das Große erlebt, dass ihm alle Tugend zum Ekel geworden ist, die über den Menschen gesetzt wird.

[ 9 ] «Was ist das Größte, das ihr erleben könnt? Das ist die Stunde der großen Verachtung. Die Stunde, in der euch auch euer Glück zum Ekel wird und ebenso eure Vernunft und eure Tugend.»

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[ 10 ] Die Weisheit Zarathustras ist nicht nach dem Sinne der «modernen Gebildeten». Sie möchten alle Menschen einander gleich machen. Wenn alle nur nach einem Ziele streben, sagen sie, dann ist Zufriedenheit und Glück auf Erden. Der Mensch soll zurückhalten, so fordern sie, seine besonderen persönlichen Wünsche und nur der Allgemeinheit, dem gemeinsamen Glücke dienen. Friede und Ruhe wird dann auf der Erde herrschen. Wenn jeder die gleichen Bedürfnisse hat, dann stört keiner die Kreise des andern. Nicht sich und seine individuellen Ziele soll der Einzelne im Auge haben, sondern nach der einmal bestimmten Schablone sollen alle leben. Verschwinden soll alles einzelne Leben, und Glieder der gemeinsamen Weltordnung sollen alle werden.

[ 11 ] «Kein Hirt und Eine Herde! Jeder will das gleiche, jeder ist gleich: wer anders fühlt, geht freiwillig ins Irrenhaus.

[ 12 ] ‹Ehemals war alle Welt irre› — sagen die Feinsten und blinzeln.

[ 13 ] Man ist klug und weiß alles, was geschehn ist: so hat man kein Ende zu spotten. Man zankt sich noch, aber man versöhnt sich bald; sonst verdirbt es den Magen.»

[ 14 ] Zarathustra ist zu lange Einsiedler gewesen, um solcher Weisheit zu huldigen. Er hat die eigenartigen Töne gehört, die aus dem Innern der Persönlichkeit erklingen, wenn der Mensch abseits steht von dem Lärm des Marktes, wo einer nur die Worte des andern nachspricht. Und er möchte es den Menschen in die Ohren rufen: höret auf die Stimmen, die nur in jedem Einzelnen von euch erklingen. Denn die nur sind naturgemäß, die nur sagen jedem, was er vermag. Ein Feind des Lebens, des reichen, vollen Lebens, ist derjenige, welcher diese Stimmen ungehört verhallen lässt und auf das gemeinsame Geschrei der Menschen hört. Zu den Freunden der Gleichheit aller Menschen will Zarathustra nicht sprechen. Sie könnten ihn nur missverstehen. Denn sie würden glauben, dass sein Übermensch jenes ideale Musterbild sei, dem alle gleich werden sollen. Aber Zarathustra will den Menschen keine Vorschriften darüber machen, wie sie sein sollen; er will nur jeden Einzelnen auf sich selbst verweisen und ihm sagen: überlasse dich dir selbst, folge nur dir allein, stelle dich über Tugend, Weisheit und Erkenntnis. Zu solchen, die sich suchen wollen, spricht Zarathustra; nicht einer Menge, die ein gemeinsames Ziel sucht, sondern solchen Gefährten gelten seine Worte, die gleich ihm einen eigenen Weg gehen. Sie allein verstehen ihn, denn sie wissen, dass er nicht sagen will: seht, dies ist der Übermensch, werdet wie er, sondern: seht, ich habe mich gesucht; so bin ich, wie ich es euch lehre; geht hin und sucht euch ebenso, dann habt ihr den Übermenschen.

[ 15 ] «Den Einsiedlern werde ich mein Lied singen und den Zweisiedlern; und wer noch Ohren hat für Unerhörtes, dem will ich sein Herz schwer machen mit meinem Glücke.»

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[ 16 ] Zwei Tiere: die Schlange, als das klügste, und der Adler, als das stolzeste Tier, begleiten Zarathustra. Sie sind die Symbole seiner Instinkte. Klugheit schätzt Zarathustra, denn sie lehrt den Menschen, die verschlungenen Pfade der Wirklichkeit finden; sie lehrt ihn kennen, was er zum Leben braucht. Und auch den Stolz liebt Zarathustra, denn der Stolz bringt die Selbstachtung des Menschen hervor, durch die dieser dazu kommt, sich selbst als den Sinn und Zweck seines Daseins zu betrachten. Der Stolze stellt seine Weisheit, seine Tugend nicht über sich selbst. Der Stolz bewahrt den Menschen davor, sich selbst zu vergessen über «höheren, heiligeren» Zielen. Lieber noch als den Stolz möchte Zarathustra die Klugheit verlieren. Denn die Klugheit, die nicht von Stolz begleitet ist, sieht sich nicht als Menschenwerk an. Wem der Stolz und die Selbstachtung fehlt, der glaubt, seine Klugheit sei ihm vom Himmel geschenkt. Ein solcher sagt: ein Tor ist der Mensch, und er hat nur so viel Weisheit, als ihm der Himmel schenken will.

[ 17 ] «Und wenn mich einst meine Klugheit verlässt: ach, sie liebt es, davonzufliegen! — möge mein Stolz dann noch mit meiner Torheit fliegen!»

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[ 18 ] Drei Verwandlungen muss der menschliche Geist durchmachen, bis er sich selbst gefunden hat. Dies lehrt Zarathustra. Ehrfürchtig ist der Geist zuerst. Er nennt Tugend, was auf ihm lastet. Er erniedrigt sich, um seine Tugend zu erhöhen. Er sagt: alle Weisheit ist bei Gott, und Gottes Wegen muss ich folgen. Gott legt mir das Schwerste auf, um meine Kraft zu prüfen, ob sie auch stark sei und geduldig ausharre. Nur der Geduldige ist stark. Gehorchen will ich, sagt der Geist auf dieser Stufe, und ausführen die Gebote des Weltengeistes, ohne zu fragen, was der Sinn dieser Gebote ist. Der Geist fühlt den Druck, den eine höhere Macht auf ihn ausübt. Nicht seine Wege geht der Geist, sondern die Wege dessen, dem er dient. Es kommt die Zeit, wo der Geist inne wird, dass kein Gott zu ihm redet. Dann will er frei sein und Herr in seiner eigenen Welt. Er sucht nach einer Richtschnur für seine Geschicke. Er frägt nicht mehr den Weltengeist, wie er sein Leben einrichten solle. Aber nach einem festen Gesetz, nach einem heiligen «du sollst» strebt er. Er sucht nach einem Maßstab, um den Wert der Dinge zu messen; er sucht nach einem Unterscheidungszeichen von Gut und Böse. Es muss eine Regel für mein Leben geben, die nicht von mir, von meinem Willen abhängt, so spricht der Geist auf dieser Stufe. Dieser Regel will ich mich fügen. Frei bin ich, meint der Geist, aber nur frei, um einer solchen Regel zu gehorchen.

[ 19 ] Auch diese Stufe überwindet der Geist. Er wird wie das Kind, das bei seinem Spielen nicht fragt: wie soll ich dies oder jenes machen, sondern das nur seinen Willen ausführt, das nur sich selbst folgt. «Seinen Willen will nun der Geist, seine Welt gewinnt sich der Weltverlorene.

[ 20 ] Drei Verwandlungen nannte ich euch des Geistes: wie der Geist zum Kamele ward, und zum Löwen das Kamel, und der Löwe zuletzt zum Kinde. — Also sprach Zarathustra.»

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[ 21 ] Was wollen die Weisen, die die Tugend über den Menschen stellen? fragt Zarathustra. Sie sagen: die Ruhe der Seele kann nur haben, wer seine Pflicht getan hat, wer dem heiligen «du sollst» gefolgt ist. Tugendhaft soll der Mensch sein, damit er nach getaner Pflicht träumen könne von erfüllten Idealen und keine Gewissensbisse fühle. Ein Mensch mit Gewissensbissen gleicht, sagen die Tugendhaften, einem Schlafenden, dem böse Träume die Nachtruhe stören.

[ 22 ] «Wenige wissen das: aber man muss alle Tugenden haben, um gut zu schlafen. Werde ich falsch Zeugnis reden? Werde ich ehebrechen?

[ 23 ] Werde ich mich gelüsten lassen meines Nächsten Magd? Das alles vertrüge sich schlecht mit gutem Schlafe ...

[ 24 ] Friede mit Gott und dem Nachbar: so will es der gute Schlaf Und Friede auch noch mit des Nachbars Teufel! Sonst geht er bei dir des Nachts um.»

[ 25 ] Nicht was sein Trieb ihn heißt, tut der Tugendhafte, sondern was Seelenruhe bewirkt. Er lebt, um in Ruhe über das Leben träumen zu können. Noch lieber ist es ihm, wenn den Schlaf, den er Seelenruhe nennt, gar kein Traum stört. Das heißt: dem Tugendhaften ist es am liebsten, wenn er irgendwoher die Regeln seines Handelns erhält und im übrigen seine Ruhe genießen kann. «Seine Weisheit heißt: wachen, um gut zu schlafen. Und wahrlich, hätte das Leben keinen Sinn, und müsste ich Unsinn wählen, so wäre auch mir dies der wählenswürdigste Unsinn», spricht Zarathustra.

[ 26 ] Auch für Zarathustra gab es eine Zeit, da er glaubte, ein außerhalb der Welt wohnender Geist, ein Gott, habe die Welt geschaffen. Einen unzufriedenen, leidenden Gott dachte sich Zarathustra. Um sich eine Befriedigung zu verschaffen, um von seinem Leiden loszukommen, habe Gott die Welt erschaffen, meinte einst Zarathustra. Aber er hat einsehen gelernt, dass es ein Wahnbild war, das er sich selbst geschaffen hatte. «Ach, ihr Brüder, dieser Gott, den ich schuf, war Menschen-Werk und -Wahnsinn gleich allen Göttern !» Zarathustra hat seine Sinne gebrauchen und die Welt betrachten gelernt. Und zufrieden wurde er mit der Welt; nicht mehr schweiften seine Gedanken ins Jenseits. Blind war er ehemals und konnte die Welt nicht sehen, deshalb suchte er sein Heil außerhalb der Welt. Aber Zarathustra hat sehen gelernt und erkennen, dass die Welt in sich selbst ihren Sinn habe.

[ 27 ] «Einen neuen Stolz lehrte mich mein Ich, den lehre ich die Menschen: nicht mehr den Kopf in den Sand der himmlischen Dinge zu stecken, sondern frei ihn zu tragen, einen Erden-Kopf, der der Erde Sinn schafft!»

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[ 28 ] In Leib und Seele haben die Idealisten den Menschen gespalten, in Idee und Wirklichkeit haben sie alles Dasein geteilt. Und sie haben die Seele, den Geist, die Idee zu einem besonders Wertvollen gemacht, um die Wirklichkeit, den Leib umso mehr verachten zu können. Zarathustra aber sagt: Nur eine Wirklichkeit, nur einen Leib gibt es, und die Seele ist nur etwas am Leibe, die Idee nur etwas an der Wirklichkeit. Eine Einheit sind Leib und Seele des Menschen; aus einer Wurzel entspringen Körper und Geist. Der Geist ist nur da, weil ein Körper da ist, der Kräfte hat, an sich den Geist zu entwickeln. Wie die Pflanze an sich die Blüte, so entfaltet der Körper an sich den Geist.

[ 29 ] «Hinter deinen Gedanken und Gefühlen, mein Bruder, steht ein mächtiger Gebieter, ein unbekannter Weiser der heißt Selbst. In deinem Leibe wohnt er, dein Leib ist er.»

[ 30 ] Wer einen Sinn hat für das Wirkliche, der sucht den Geist, die Seele in und an dem Wirklichen, er sucht die Vernunft in dem Wirklichen; nur wer die Wirklichkeit für geistlos, für «bloß natürlich», für «roh» hält, der gibt dem Geiste, der Seele ein besonderes Dasein. Er macht die Wirklichkeit zur bloßen Wohnung des Geistes. Einem solchen fehlt aber auch der Sinn für die Wahrnehmung des Geistes selbst. Nur weil er den Geist in der Wirklichkeit nicht sieht, sucht er ihn anderswo.

[ 31 ] «Es ist mehr Vernunft in deinem Leibe, als in deiner besten Weisheit...

[ 32 ] Der Leib ist eine große Vernunft, eine Vielheit mit Einem Sinne, ein Krieg und ein Frieden, eine Herde und ein Hirt.

[ 33 ] Werkzeug deines Leibes ist auch deine kleine Vernunft, mein Bruder, die du ‹Geist› nennst, ein kleines Werk- und Spielzeug deiner großen Vernunft.»

[ 34 ] Ein Tor ist, wer die Blüte von der Pflanze reißt und glaubt, die abgerissene Blüte werde nun sich noch zur Frucht entwickeln. Ein Tor ist ebenso, wer den Geist von der Natur absondert und glaubt, ein solcher abgesonderter Geist könne noch schaffen.

[ 35 ] Menschen mit kranken Instinkten haben die Scheidung von Geist und Körper vorgenommen. Ein kranker Instinkt nur kann sagen: mein Reich ist nicht von dieser Welt. Eines gesunden Instinktes Reich ist nur diese Wett.

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[ 36 ] Was für Ideale haben sie doch geschaffen, diese Verächter der Wirklichkeit! Fassen wir sie ins Auge, die Ideale der Asketen, die da sagen: wendet ab euren Blick vom Diesseits und schaut nach dem Jenseits! Was bedeuten asketische Ideale? Mit dieser Frage und den Vermutungen, mit denen er sie beantwortet, hat uns Nietzsche am tiefsten hineinblicken lassen in sein von der abendländischen neueren Kultur unbefriedigtes Herz. («Genealogie der Moral», 3. Abhandlung.)

[ 37 ] Wenn ein Künstler, wie zum Beispiel Richard Wagner, in der letzten Zeit seines Schaffens, Anhänger des asketischen Ideales wird, so hat das nicht viel zu bedeuten. Der Künstler steht sein ganzes Leben hindurch über seinen Schöpfungen. Er sieht von oben herab auf seine Wirklichkeiten. Er schafft Wirklichkeiten, die nicht seine Wirklichkeit sind. «Ein Homer hätte keinen Achill, ein Goethe keinen Faust gedichtet, wenn Homer ein Achill, und wenn Goethe ein Faust gewesen wäre.» («Genealogie», 3. Abhandlung, § 4.) Wenn nun ein solcher Künstler sein eigenes Dasein einmal ernst nimmt, sich selbst und seine persönlichen Ansichten in Wirklichkeit umsetzen will, so ist es kein Wunder, wenn etwas sehr Unreales entsteht. Richard Wagner hat über seine Kunst vollständig umgelernt, als ihm die Philosophie Schopenhauers bekannt wurde. Vorher hielt er die Musik für ein Ausdrucksmittel, das etwas braucht, dem es Ausdruck verschafft, das Drama. In seiner Schrift «Oper und Drama», die 183 1 geschrieben ist, spricht er aus, dass der größte Irrtum, dem man sich in bezug auf die Oper hingeben kann, der ist, «dass ein Mittel des Ausdrucks (die Musik) zum Zwecke, der Zweck des Ausdrucks (das Drama) aber zum Mitte/gemacht war

[ 38 ] Er bekannte sich zu einer andern Ansicht, nachdem er Schopenhauers Lehre von der Musik kennen gelernt hatte. Schopenhauer ist der Ansicht, dass durch die Musik das Wesen der Dinge selbst zu uns spricht. Der ewige Wille, der in allen Dingen lebt, er wird in allen anderen Künsten nur in seinen Abbildern, in den Ideen, verkörpert; die Musik ist kein bloßes Bild des Willens: in ihr gibt sich der Wille unmittelbar kund. Was uns in allen unseren Vorstellungen nur im Abglanz erscheint: der ewige Grund alles Seins, der Wille, ihn glaubt Schopenhauer in den Klängen der Musik unmittelbar zu vernehmen. Kunde aus dem Jenseits bringt für Schopenhauer die Musik. Diese Ansicht wirkte auf Richard Wagner. Nicht mehr als Ausdrucksmittel wirklicher menschlicher Leidenschaften, wie sie im Drama verkörpert sind, ließ er die Musik gelten, sondern als «eine Art Mundstück des ‹Ansich› der Dinge, ein Telephon des Jenseits». Richard Wagner glaubte jetzt nicht mehr die Wirklichkeit in Tönen auszudrücken; «er redete fürderhin nicht nur Musik, dieser Bauchredner Gottes, — er redete Metaphysik: was Wunder, dass er endlich eines Tages asketische Ideale redete?...» («Genealogie», 3. Abhandlung, § 5.)

[ 39 ] Hätte Richard Wagner bloß seine Ansicht über die Bedeutung der Musik geändert, so hätte Nietzsche keinen Anlas, ihm etwas vorzuwerfen. Nietzsche könnte dann höchstens sagen: Wagner hat außer seinen Kunstwerken auch noch allerlei verkehrte Theorien über die Kunst geschaffen. Dass aber Wagner in der letzten Zeit seines Schaffens den Schopenhauerschen Jenseitsglauben auch in seinen Kunstwerken verkörpert hat, dass er seine Musik dazu verwendet hat, die Flucht vor der Wirklichkeit zu verherrlichen: das ging Nietzsche wider den Geschmack.

[ 40 ] Aber der «Fall Wagner» besagt nichts, wenn es sich um die Bedeutung der Verherrlichung des Jenseits auf Kosten des Diesseits, wenn es sich um die Bedeutung der asketischen Ideale handelt. Künstler stehen nicht auf eigenen Füßen. Wie Richard Wagner von Schopenhauer abhängig ist, so waren die Künstler «zu allen Zeiten Kammerdiener einer Moral oder Philosophie oder Religion».

[ 41 ] Anders ist es, wenn die Philosophen für die Verachtung der Wirklichkeit, für die asketischen Ideale eintreten. Sie tun das aus einem tiefen Instinkte heraus.

[ 42] Schopenhauer hat diesen Instinkt verraten durch die Beschreibung, die er von dem Schaffen und Genießen eines Kunstwerkes gibt. «Dass also das Kunstwerk die Auffassung der Ideen, in welcher der ästhetische Genuss besteht, so sehr erleichtert, beruht nicht bloß darauf, dass die Kunst durch Hervorhebung des Wesentlichen und Aussonderung des Unwesentlichen die Dinge deutlicher und charakteristischer darstellt, sondern ebenso sehr darauf, dass das zur rein Objektiven Auffassung des Wesens der Dinge erforderte gänzliche Schweigen des Willens am sichersten dadurch erreicht wird, dass das angeschaute Objekt selbst gar nicht im Gebiete der Dinge liegt, weiche einer Beziehung zum Willen fähig sind.» («Ergänzungen zum 3. Buch der ‹Welt als Wille und Vorstellung›», Kap. 30.) «Wann aber äußerer Anlas oder innere Stimmung uns plötzlich aus dem endlosen Strome des Wollens heraushebt, die Erkenntnis dem Sklavendienste des Willens entreißt, die Aufmerksamkeit nun nicht mehr auf die Motive des Wollens gerichtet wird, sondern die Dinge frei von ihrer Beziehung auf den Willen auffasst, also ohne Interesse, ohne Subjektivität, rein objektiv sie betrachtet, ihnen ganz hingegeben, sofern sie bloß Vorstellungen, nicht sofern sie Motive sind: dann ist... der schmerzenlose Zustand, den Epikuros als das höchste Gut und als den Zustand der Götter pries, eingetreten: denn wir sind für jenen Augenblick des schnöden Willensdranges entledigt, wir feiern den Sabbat der Zuchthausarbeit des Wollens, das Rad des Ixion steht still.» («Welt als Wille und Vorstellung», § 38.)

[ 43 ] Dies ist eine Beschreibung einer Art des ästhetischen Genusses, die nur bei dem Philosophen vorkommt. Nietzsche stellt ihr gegenüber eine andere Beschreibung, «die ein wirklicher Zuschauer und Artist gemacht hat -Stendhal», der das Schöne «une promesse de bonheur» nennt. Schopenhauer möchte alles Willensinteresse, alles wirkliche Leben ausschalten, wenn es sich um die Betrachtung eines Kunstwerkes handelt, und nur mit dem Geiste genießen; Stendhal sieht in dem Kunstwerke ein Versprechen von Glück, also einen Hinweis auf das Leben, und sieht in diesem Zusammenhang der Kunst mit dem Leben den Wert der Kunst.

[ 44 ] Kant fordert vom schönen Kunstwerk, dass es ohne Interesse gefalle, das heißt dass es uns heraushebe aus dem wirklichen Leben und einen rein geistigen Genuss gewähre.

[ 45 ] Was sucht der Philosoph in dem künstlerischen Genuss? Erlösung von der Wirklichkeit. In eine Wirklichkeit-fremde Stimmung will der Philosoph durch das Kunstwerk versetzt werden. Er verrät dadurch seinen Grundinstinkt. Der Philosoph fühlt sich in den Augenblicken am wohlsten, in denen er von der Wirklichkeit loskommen kann. Seine Ansicht vom ästhetischen Genuss zeigt, dass er die Wirklichkeit nicht liebt.

[ 46 ] Nicht was der dem Leben zugewandte Zuschauer von dem Kunstwerke verlangt, sagen uns die Philosophen in ihren Theorien, sondern nur, was ihnen selbst angemessen ist. Und dem Philosophen ist die Abkehr von dem Leben sehr förderlich. Er will sich seine verschlungenen Gedankenwege nicht durchkreuzen lassen von der Wirklichkeit. Das Denken gedeiht besser, wenn sich der Philosoph von dem Leben abkehrt. Es ist nun kein Wunder, wenn dieser philosophische Grundinstinkt geradezu zu einer lebensfeindlichen Stimmung wird. Wir finden eine solche Stimmung bei der Mehrzahl der Philosophen ausgebildet. Und nahe liegt es, dass der Philosoph seine eigene Antipathie gegen das Leben zu einer Lehre ausbildet und fordert, dass sich alle Menschen zu einer solchen Lehre bekennen. Schopenhauer hat dieses getan. Er fand, dass der Lärm der Welt seine Gedankenarbeit störte. Er empfand, dass man über die Wirklichkeit am besten nachdenken kann, wenn man dieser Wirklichkeit entflieht. Zugleich vergaß er, dass alles Denken über die Wirklichkeit doch nur dann einen Wert hat, wenn es aus dieser Wirklichkeit entspringt. Er beachtete nicht, dass das Zurückziehen des Philosophen von der Wirklichkeit nur geschehen kann, damit die entfernt von dem Leben entstandenen philosophischen Gedanken dann dem Leben um so besser dienen können. Wenn der Philosoph den Grundinstinkt, der nur ihm als Philosophen förderlich ist, der ganzen Menschheit aufdrängen will, dann wird er zu einem Feinde des Lebens.

[ 47 ] Der Philosoph, der die Weltflucht nicht als Mittel betrachtet, umweltfreundliche Gedanken zu schaffen, sondern als Zweck, als Ziel, kann nur Wertloses schaffen. Der wahre Philosoph flieht auf der einen Seite die Wirklichkeit nur, um sich auf der andern um so tiefer in sie einzubohren. Aber es ist begreiflich, dass dieser Grundinstinkt den Philosophen leicht dazu verführen kann, die Weltflucht als solche für wertvoll zu halten. Dann wird der Philosoph zu einem Anwalt der Weltverneinung. Er lehrt Abkehr vom Leben, asketisches Ideal. Er findet: «Ein gewisser Asketismus... eine harte und heitere Entsagsamkeit besten Willens gehört zu den günstigen Bedingungen höchster Geistigkeit, insgleichen auch zu deren natürlichsten Folgen: so wird es von vornherein nicht wundernehmen, wenn das asketische Ideal gerade von den Philosophen nie ohne einige Voreingenommenheit behandelt worden ist.» («Genealogie der Moral», 3. Abhandlung, § 9.)

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[ 48 ] Einen andern Ursprung haben die asketischen Ideale der Priester. Was bei dem Philosophen durch das Überwuchern eines bei ihm berechtigten Triebes entsteht, das bildet das Grundideal des eine große Gefahr, die den Gesunden, Starken, Selbstbewussten von den Verunglückten, Niedergeworfenen, Zerbrochenen droht. Die letzteren hassen die Gesunden und die leiblich und seelisch priesterlichen Wirkens. Der Priester sieht in der Hingabe des Menschen an das wirkliche Leben einen Irrtum; er verlangt, dass man dieses Leben gering achte gegenüber einem andern Leben, das von höheren als bloß natürlichen Kräften gelenkt wird. Der Priester leugnet, dass das wirkliche Leben einen Sinn in sich selbst habe, und er fordert, dass ihm dieser Sinn verliehen werde durch Einimpfung eines höheren Willens. Er sieht das Leben in der Zeitlichkeit als unvollkommen an und stellt ihm ein ewiges, vollkommenes Leben gegenüber. Abkehr von der Zeitlichkeit und Einkehr in das Ewige, Unwandelbare lehrt der Priester. Ich möchte als besonders bezeichnend für die priesterliche Denkweise einige Sätze aus dem berühmten Buche «Die deutsche Theologie» anführen, das aus dem 14. Jahrhundert stammt und von dem Luther sagt, dass er aus keinem Buche, die Bibel und den heiligen Augustin ausgenommen, mehr gelernt habe, was Gott, Christus und der Mensch sei, als aus diesem. Auch Schopenhauer findet, dass der Geist des Christentums in diesem Buche vollkommen und kräftig ausgesprochen ist. Nachdem der Verfasser, der uns unbekannt ist, auseinandergesetzt hat, dass alle Dinge der Welt nur ein Unvollkommenes und Geteiltes seien gegenüber dem Vollkommenen, «das in sich und in seinem Wesen alle Wesen begriffen und beschlossen hat, und ohne das und außer dem kein wahres Wesen ist und in dem alle Dinge ihr Wesen haben», führt er aus, dass der Mensch in dieses Wesen nur eindringen kann, wenn er «Kreatürlichkeit, Geschaffenheit, Ichheit, Selbstheit und dergleichen alles verloren» und in sich zunichte gemacht hat. Was von dem Vollkommenen ausgeflossen ist und was der Mensch als seine wirkliche Welt erkennt, das wird folgendermaßen charakterisiert: «Das ist kein wahres Wesen und hat kein Wesen anders denn in dem Vollkommenen, sondern es ist ein Zufall oder ein Glanz und ein Schein, der kein Wesen ist oder kein Wesen hat anders als in dem Feuer, wo der Glanz ausfließt, oder in der Sonne, oder in einem Lichte. -Die Schrift spricht und der Glaube und die Wahrheit: Sünde sei nichts anders, denn dass sich die Kreatur abkehrt von dem unwandelbaren Gute und kehret sich zu dem wandelbaren, das ist: dass sie sich kehrt von dem Vollkommenen zu dem Geteilten und Unvollkommenen und allermeist zu sich selber. Nun merke. Wenn sich die Kreatur etwas Gutes annimmt, als Wesens, Lebens, Wissens, Erkennens, Vermögens und kürzlich alles dessen, das man gut nennen soll, und meint, dass sie das sei oder dass es das Ihre sei oder ihr zugehöre oder dass es von ihr sei: so oft und viel das geschieht, so kehrt sie sich ab. (1) Was tat der Teufel anders oder was war sein Fall und Abkehren anders, denn daß er sich annahm, er wäre auch etwas und etwas wäre sein und ihm gehörte auch etwas zu*? Dies Annehmen und sein Ich und sein Mich, sein Mir und sein Mein, das war sein Abkehren und sein Fall. Also ist es noch... Denn alles das, was man für gut hält oder gut nennen soll, das gehört niemand zu, denn allein dem ewigen wahren Gut, der Gott allein ist, und wer sich dessen annimmt, der tut Unrecht und wider Gott.» (i., 2., 4. Kap. der «Deutsch. Theol.», 3. Aufl., übersetzt von Pfeiffer.)

[ 49 ] Diese Sätze sprechen die Gesinnung jedes Priesters aus. Sie sprechen den eigentlichen Charakter der Priesterlichkeit aus. Und dieser Charakter ist das Gegenteil desjenigen, den Nietzsche als den höherwertigen, den lebenswürdigen bezeichnet. Der höherwertige Typus Mensch will alles, was er ist, nur durch sich sein; er will, daß alles, was er für gut hält und gut nennt, niemand zugehört, denn ihm selbst.

[ 50 ] Aber jene minderwertige Gesinnung ist kein Ausnahmefall. «Sie ist eine der breitesten und längsten Tatsachen, die es gibt. Von einem fernen Gestirn aus gelesen, würde vielleicht die Majuskel-Schrift unsres Erden-Daseins zu dem Schluß verführen, die Erde sei der eigentlich asketische Stern, ein Winkel mißvergnügter, hochmütiger und widriger Geschöpfe, die einen tiefen Verdruß an sich, an der Erde, an allem Leben gar nicht los würden.» («Genealogie der Moral», 3. Abhandlung, § 11.) Der asketische Priester ist deshalb eine Notwendigkeit, weil die Mehrzahl der Menschen an einer «Hemmung und Ermüdung» der Lebenskräfte leidet, weil sie an der Wirklichkeit leidet. Der asketische Priester ist der Tröster und Arzt derjenigen, die am Leben leiden. Er tröstet sie dadurch, dass er ihnen sagt: dieses Leben, an dem ihr leidet, ist nicht das wahre Leben; das wahre Leben ist denjenigen, die an diesem Leben leiden, viel leichter erreichbar als den Gesunden, die an diesem Leben hängen und sich ihm hingeben. Durch solche Aussprüche züchtet der Priester die Verachtung, die Verleumdung dieses wirklichen Lebens. Er bringt endlich die Gesinnung hervor, die sagt: um das wahre Leben zu erreichen, muss dieses wirkliche Leben verneint werden. In der Verbreitung dieser Gesinnung sucht der asketische Priester seine Stärke. Er beseitigt durch die Züchtung dieser Gesinnung Glücklichen, die ihre Kräfte aus der Natur nehmen. Diesen Hass, der sich dadurch äußern müsste, dass die Schwachen gegen die Starken einen fortwährenden Vernichtungskrieg führten, sucht der Priester niederzuhalten. Er stellt deshalb die Starken als diejenigen hin, die ein wertloses, menschenunwürdiges Leben führen und behauptet dagegen, dass das wahre Leben allein denen erreichbar ist, die von dem Erdenleben geschädigt werden. «Der asketische Priester muss uns als der vorherbestimmte Heiland, Hirt und Anwalt der kranken Herde gelten: damit erst verstehen wir seine ungeheure historische Mission. Die Herrschaft über Leidende ist sein Reich, auf sie weist ihn sein Instinkt an, in ihr hat er seine eigenste Kunst, seine Meisterschaft, seine Art von Glück.» («Genealogie», 3. Abhandlung, § 15.) Es ist kein Wunder, wenn eine solche Denkweise endlich dazu führt, dass ihre Anhänger nicht nur das Leben verachten, sondern geradezu auf seine Zerstörung hinarbeiten. Wenn den Menschen gesagt wird, nur der Leidende, der Schwache kann wirklich zu einem höheren Leben kommen, so wird endlich das Leiden, die Schwäche gesucht werden. Sich selbst Schmerz zuzufügen, den Willen in sich ganz ertöten, das wird Ziel Wollust für den, welcher eigentliche Heiligkeit anstrebt; Wegwerfung alles Eigentums, Verlassung jedes Wohnortes, aller Angehörigen, tiefe, gänzliche Einsamkeit, zugebracht in stillschweigender Betrachtung, mit freiwilliger Buße und schrecklicher, langsamer Selbstpeinigung, zur gänzlichen Mortifikation des Willens, welche zuletzt bis zum freiwilligen Tode geht durch Hunger, auch durch Entgegengehen den Krokodilen, durch Herabstürzen vom geheiligten Felsengipfel im Himalaya, durch lebendig Begrabenwerden, auch durch Hinwerfung unter die Räder des unter Gesang, Jubel und Tanz der Bajaderen die Götterbilder umherfahrenden ungeheuren Wagens», dies sind die letzten Früchte der asketischen Gesinnung. (Schopenhauer, «Welt als Wille und Vorstellung», § 68.)

[ 51 ] Diese Denkweise ist dem Leiden am Leben entsprungen, und sie richtet ihre Waffen gegen das Leben. Wenn der Gesunde, Lebensfrohe von ihr angesteckt wird, dann tilgt sie bei ihm die gesunden, starken Instinkte aus. Nietzsches Werk gipfelt darinnen, dieser Lehre gegenüber etwas anderes geltend zu machen, eine Ansicht für Gesunde, Wohlgeratene. Mögen die Missratenen, Verdorbenen in der Lehre der asketischen Priester ihr Heil suchen; die Gesunden will Nietzsche um sich sammeln und ihnen eine Meinung sagen, die ihnen besser zu Gesichte steht, als jedes lebensfeindliche Ideal.

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[ 52 ] Auch in den Pflegern der modernen Wissenschaft steckt noch das asketische Ideal. Zwar rühmt sich diese Wissenschaft, alle alten Glaubensvorstellungen über Bord geworfen zu haben und sich nur an die Wirklichkeit zu halten. Sie will nichts gelten lassen, was sich nicht zählen, berechnen, wägen, sehen und greifen lässt. Dass man auf diese Weise «das Dasein zu einer Rechenknechts-Übung und Stubenhockerei für Mathematiker» herabwürdigt, ist den modernen Gelehrten gleichgültig. («Fröhliche Wissenschaft», § 373.) Ein Recht, die vor seinen Sinnen und seiner Vernunft vorüberziehenden Vorkommnisse der Welt zu interpretieren, so dass er sie mit seinem Denken beherrschen kann, schreibt sich ein solcher Gelehrter nicht zu. Er sagt: die Wahrheit muss von meiner Interpretationskunst unabhängig sein, und ich habe die Wahrheit nicht zu schaffen, sondern ich muss sie mir von den Erscheinungen der Welt diktieren lassen.

[ 53 ] Wozu diese moderne Wissenschaft zuletzt gelangt, wenn sie sich alles Zurechtlegens der Welterscheinungen enthält, das hat ein Anhänger dieser Wissenschaft (Richard Wahle) in einem soeben erschienenen Buche («Das Ganze der Philosophie und ihr Ende») ausgesprochen: «Was könnte der Geist, der, ins Weltgehäuse spähend und in sich die Fragen nach dem Wesen und dem Ziele des Geschehens herumwälzte, endlich als Antwort finden? Es ist ihm widerfahren, dass er, wie er so scheinbar im Gegensatze zur umgebenden Welt dastand, sich auflöste und in einer Flucht von Vorkommnissen mit allen Vorkommnissen zusammenfloss. Er ‹wusste› nicht mehr die Welt; er sagte, ich bin nicht sicher, dass Wissende da sind, sondern Vorkommnisse sind da schlechthin. Sie kommen freilich in solcher Weise, dass der Begriff eines Wissens vorschnell, ungerechtfertigt, entstehen konnte. Und ‹Begriffe› huschten empor, um Licht in die Vorkommnisse zu bringen, aber es waren Irrlichter, Seelen der Wünsche nach Wissen, erbärmliche, in ihrer Evidenz nichtssagende Postulate einer unausgefüllten Wissensform. Unbekannte Faktoren müssen im Wechsel walten. Über ihre Natur war Dunkel gebreitet. Vorkommnisse sind der Schleier des Wahrhaften.»

[ 54 ] Dass die menschliche Persönlichkeit in die Vorkommnisse der Wirklichkeit einen Sinn hineinlegen könne und die unbekannten Faktoren, die im Wechsel der Ereignisse walten, aus eigenem Vermögen ergänzen könne, daran denken die modernen Gelehrten nicht. Sie wollen nicht die Flucht der Erscheinungen durch die Ideen interpretieren, die aus ihrer Persönlichkeit stammen. Sie wollen die Erscheinungen bloß beobachten und beschreiben, aber nicht deuten. Sie wollen bei dem Tatsächlichen stehen bleiben und es der schöpferischen Phantasie nicht gestatten, sich ein in sich gegliedertes Bild von der Wirklichkeit zu machen.

[ 55 ] Wenn ein phantasievoller Naturforscher, wie zum Beispiel Ernst Haeckel, aus den Ergebnissen einzelner Beobachtungen ein Gesamtbild der Entwicklung des organischen Lebens auf der Erde entwirft, dann fallen diese Fanatiker der Tatsächlichkeit über ihn her und zeihen ihn der Versündigung an der Wahrheit. Die Bilder, die er von dem Leben in der Natur entwirft, können sie nicht mit Augen sehen, oder mit Händen greifen. Ihnen ist das unpersönliche Urteil lieber, als das durch den Geist der Persönlichkeit gefärbte. Sie möchten bei ihren Beobachtungen am liebsten die Persönlichkeit ganz ausschalten.

[ 56 ] Es ist das asketische Ideal, das die Fanatiker der Tatsächlichkeit beherrscht. Sie wollen eine Wahrheit jenseits des persönlichen, individuellen Urteiles. Was der Mensch in die Dinge «hineinphantasieren» kann, bekümmert sie nicht; die «Wahrheit» ist ihnen etwas absolut Vollkommenes, ein Gott; der Mensch soll sie entdecken, sich ihr ergeben, aber sie nicht schaffen. Die Naturforscher und die Geschichtsschreiber sind gegenwärtig von dem gleichen Geiste des asketischen Ideals beseelt. Überall Aufzählen, Beschreiben von Tatsachen, und nichts darüber. Jedes Zurechtlegen der Tatsachen ist verpönt. Alles persönliche Urteilen soll unterbleiben.

[ 57 ] Unter diesen modernen Gelehrten finden sich auch Atheisten. Diese Atheisten sind aber keine freieren Geister als ihre Zeitgenossen, die an Gott glauben. Mit den Mitteln der modernen Wissenschaft lässt sich das Dasein Gottes nicht beweisen. Hat sich doch eine der Leuchten moderner Wissenschaft (Du Bois-Reymond) über die Annahme einer «Weltseele» also geäußert: bevor der Naturforscher sich zu einer solchen Annahme entschließt, verlangt er, «dass ihm irgendwo in der Welt, in Neuroglia gebettet und mit warmem arteriellen Blut unter richtigem Drucke gespeist, ein dem geistigen Vermögen solcher Seele an Umfang entsprechendes Konvolut von Ganglien-Kugeln und Nervenfasern gezeigt» werde («Grenzen des Naturerkennens»). Die moderne Wissenschaft lehnt den Glauben an Gott ab, weil dieser Glaube neben dem Glauben an die «objektive Wahrheit» nicht bestehen kann. Diese «objektive Wahrheit» ist aber nichts anderes als ein neuer Gott, der über den alten gesiegt hat. «Der unbedingte redliche Atheismus (- und seine Luft allein atmen wir, wir geistigeren Menschen dieses Zeitalters!) steht demgemäss nicht im Gegensatz zu jenem [asketischen] Ideale, wie es den Anschein hat; er ist vielmehr nur eine seiner letzten Entwicklungsphasen, eine seiner Schlussformen und inneren Folgerichtigkeiten, — er ist die Ehrfurcht gebietende Katastrophe einer zweitausendjährigen Zucht zur Wahrheit, welche am Schlusse sich die Lüge im Glauben an Gott verbietet.» («Genealogie», 3. Abhandlung, § 27.) Der Christ sucht die Wahrheit in Gott, weil er Gott für den Quell aller Wahrheit hält; der moderne Atheist lehnt den Glauben an Gott ab, weil ihm sein Gott, sein Ideal von Wahrheit diesen Glauben verbietet. Der moderne Geist sieht in Gott eine menschliche Schöpfung; in der «Wahrheit» sieht er etwas, was ohne alles menschliche Zutun durch sich selbst besteht. Der wirklich «freie Geist» geht noch weiter. Er fragt: «Was bedeutet aller Wille zur Wahrheit?» Wozu Wahrheit? Alle Wahrheit entsteht doch dadurch, dass der Mensch über die Erscheinungen der Welt nachdenkt, sich Gedanken über die Dinge bildet. Der Mensch selbst ist der Schöpfer der Wahrheit. Der «freie Geist» kommt zum Bewusstsein seines Schaffens der Wahrheit. Er betrachtet die Wahrheit nicht mehr als etwas, dem er sich unterordnet; er betrachtet sie als sein Geschöpf.

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[ 58 ] Die mit schwachen, missratenen Erkenntnisinstinkten ausgestatteten Menschen wagen es nicht, aus der Begriffe bildenden Macht ihrer Persönlichkeit heraus den Welterscheinungen einen Sinn unterzulegen. Sie wollen, dass ihnen die «Gesetzmäßigkeit der Natur» als Tatbestand vor die Sinne trete. Ein subjektives, der Einrichtung des menschlichen Geistes gemäß geformtes Weltbild scheint ihnen wertlos. Aber die bloße Beobachtung der Vorkommnisse in der Welt liefert uns nur ein zusammenhangloses und doch nicht in Einzelheiten gesondertes Weltbild. Dem bloßen Beobachter der Dinge erscheint kein Gegenstand, kein Geschehnis wichtiger, bedeutungsvoller als das andere. Das rudimentäre Organ eines Organismus, das vielleicht dann, wenn wir darüber nachgedacht haben, ohne alle Bedeutung für die Entwicklung des Lebens erscheint, steht gerade mit demselben Anspruch auf Beachtung da, wie der edelste Teil des Organismus, so lange wir bloß den objektiven Tatbestand beschauen. Ursache und Wirkung sind aufeinanderfolgende Erscheinungen, die ineinander überfließen, ohne durch etwas getrennt zu sein, so lange wir sie bloß beobachten. Erst wenn wir mit unserem Denken einsetzen, die ineinander fließenden Erscheinungen sondern und gedanklich aufeinander beziehen, wird ein gesetzmäßiger Zusammenhang sichtbar. Erst das Denken erklärt die eine Erscheinung für die Ursache, die andere für die Wirkung. Wir sehen einen Regentropfen auf den Erdboden fallen und eine Vertiefung hervorrufen. Ein Wesen, das nicht denken kann, wird hier nicht Ursache und Wirkung sehen, sondern nur eine Aufeinanderfolge von Erscheinungen. Ein denkendes Wesen isoliert die Erscheinungen, bringt die isolierten Fakten in ein Verhältnis und bezeichnet das eine Faktum als Ursache, das andere als Wirkung. Durch die Beobachtung wird der Intellekt angeregt, Gedanken zu produzieren und diese mit den beobachteten Tatsachen zu einem gedankenvollen Weltbilde zu verschmelzen. Der Mensch tut dies, weil er die Summe der Beobachtungen gedanklich beherrschen will. Ein ihm gegenüberstehendes Gedankenleeres drückt auf ihn wie eine unbekannte Macht. Er widersetzt sich dieser Macht, überwindet sie, indem er sie denkbar macht. Auch alles Zählen, Wägen und Berechnen der Erscheinungen geschieht aus demselben Grunde. Es ist der Wille zur Macht, der sich in dem Erkenntnistriebe auslebt. (Ich habe den Erkenntnisprozess im einzelnen dargestellt in meinen beiden Schriften: «Wahrheit und Wissenschaft» und «Die Philosophie der Freiheit».)

[ 59 ] Der stumpfe, schwache Intellekt will sich nicht eingestehen, dass er es selbst ist, der als Äußerung seines Strebens nach Macht die Erscheinungen interpretiert. Er hält auch seine Interpretation für einen Tatbestand. Und er fragt: wie der Mensch dazu kommt, einen solchen Tatbestand in der Wirklichkeit zu finden. Er fragt zum Beispiel: wie kommt es, dass der Intellekt in zwei aufeinander folgenden Erscheinungen Ursache und Wirkung anerkennt? Alle Erkenntnistheoretiker von Locke, Hume, Kant bis auf die Gegenwart haben sich mit dieser Frage beschäftigt. Die Spitzfindigkeiten, die sie auf diese Untersuchung verwendet haben, sind unfruchtbar geblieben. Die Erklärung ist gegeben in dem Streben des menschlichen Intellekts nach Macht, Die Frage ist gar nicht: sind Urteile, Gedanken über die Erscheinungen möglich, sondern: hat der menschliche Intellekt solche Urteile nötig? Weil er sie nötig hat, deshalb wendet er sie an, und nicht weil sie möglich sind. Es kommt darauf an, «zu begreifen, dass zum Zweck der Erhaltung von Wesen unserer Art solche Urteile als wahr geglaubt werden müssen; weshalb sie natürlich noch falsche Urteile sein könnten!» («Jenseits von Gut und Böse», § II.) «Und wir sind grundsätzlich geneigt zu behaupten, dass die falschesten Urteile... uns die unentbehrlichsten sind, dass ohne ein Geltenlassen der logischen Fiktionen, ohne ein Messen der Wirklichkeit an der rein erfundenen Welt des Unbedingten, Sich-selbst-Gleichen, ohne eine beständige Fälschung der Welt durch die Zahl der Mensch nicht leben könnte, — dass Verzichtleisten auf falsche Urteile ein Verzichtleisten auf Leben, eine Verneinung des Lebens wäre.» (Ebenda, § 4.) Wem dieser Ausspruch paradox erscheint, der besinne sich darauf, wie fruchtbar die Anwendung der Geometrie auf die Wirklichkeit ist, obgleich es nirgends in der Welt wirklich geometrisch regelmäßige Linien, Flächen und so weiter gibt.

[ 60 ] Wenn der stumpfe, schwache Intellekt einsieht, dass alle Urteile über die Dinge aus ihm selbst stammen, durch ihn produziert und mit den Beobachtungen verschmolzen werden, dann hat er nicht den Mut, diese Urteile rückhaltlos anzuwenden. Er sagt: Urteile solcher Art können uns keine Erkenntnis von dem «wahren Wesen» der Dinge vermitteln. Dieses «wahre Wesen» bleibt daher unserer Erkenntnis verschlossen.

[ 61 ] Noch in einer anderen Art sucht der schwache Intellekt zu beweisen, dass durch das menschliche Erkennen kein Feststehendes gewonnen werden kann. Er sagt: Der Mensch sieht, hört, tastet die Dinge und Vorgänge. Was er dabei wahrnimmt, sind Eindrücke auf seine Sinnesorgane. Wenn er eine Farbe, einen Ton wahrnimmt, so kann er nur sagen: mein Auge, mein Ohr werden in einer gewissen Art bestimmt, Farbe, Ton wahrzunehmen. Nicht etwas außer ihm nimmt der Mensch wahr, sondern nur eine Bestimmung, eine Modifikation seiner eigenen Organe. In der Wahrnehmung werden das Auge, das Ohr und so weiter dazu veranlasst, in einer gewissen Weise zu empfinden; sie werden in einen bestimmten Zustand versetzt. Diese Zustände seiner eigenen Organe nimmt der Mensch als Farben, Töne, Gerüche und so weiter wahr. In aller Wahrnehmung nimmt der Mensch nur seine eigenen Zustände wahr. Was er Außenwelt nennt, ist nur aus diesen seinen Zuständen zusammengesetzt; ist also im eigentlichen Sinne sein Werk. Die Dinge, die ihn veranlassen, aus sich heraus die Außenwelt zu spinnen, kennt er nicht; nur ihre Wirkungen auf seine Organe. Einem von dem Menschen geträumten Traume gleich, der durch ein Unbekanntes veranlasst wird, erscheint die Welt in dieser Beleuchtung.

[ 62 ] Wenn dieser Gedanke konsequent zu Ende gedacht wird, so zieht er folgenden Nachsatz nach sich. Auch seine Organe kennt der Mensch nur, insofern er sie wahrnimmt; sie sind Glieder in seiner Wahrnehmungswelt. Und seines eigenen Selbst wird sich der Mensch nur bewusst, insofern er die Bilder der Welt aus sich herausspinnt. Traumbilder nimmt er wahr und inmitten dieser Traumbilder ein «Ich», an dem diese Traumbilder vorüberziehen. Jedes Traumbild erscheint in Begleitung dieses «Ich». Man kann auch sagen: jedes Traumbild erscheint inmitten der Traumwelt immer in Beziehung auf dieses «Ich». Dieses «Ich» haftet als Bestimmung, als Eigenschaft an den Traumbildern. Es ist somit, als Bestimmung von Traumbildern, selbst ein Traumhaftes. J. G. Fichte fasst diese Ansicht in die Worte zusammen: «Was durch das Wissen und aus dem Wissen entsteht, ist nur ein Wissen. Alles Wissen aber ist nur Abbildung, und es wird in ihm immer etwas gefordert, das dem Bilde entspreche. Diese Forderung kann durch kein Wissen befriedigt werden; und ein System des Wissens ist notwendig, ein System bloßer Bilder, ohne alle Realität, Bedeutung und Zweck.» «Alle Realität» ist für Fichte ein wunderbarer «Traum, ohne ein Leben, von welchem geträumt wird, und ohne einen Geist, dem da träumt»; ein Traum, «der in einem Traume von sich selbst zusammenhängt». («Bestimmung des Menschen», 2. Buch.)

[ 63 ] Was hat diese ganze Gedankenkette für eine Bedeutung? Ein schwacher Intellekt, der sich nicht unterfangen will, der Welt aus sich heraus einen Sinn zu geben, sucht diesen Sinn in der Welt der Beobachtungen. Er kann ihn da natürlich nicht finden, weil die bloße Beobachtung gedankenleer ist.

[ 64 ] Der starke, produktive Intellekt verwendet seine Begriffswelt dazu, die Beobachtungen zu deuten; der schwache, unproduktive Intellekt erklärt sich selbst für zu ohnmächtig, um das zu tun und sagt: ich kann in den Erscheinungen der ~ keinen Sinn finden; sie sind bloße Bilder, die an mir vorüberziehen. Der Sinn des Daseins muss außerhalb, jenseits der Erscheinungswelt gesucht werden. Dadurch wird die Erscheinungswelt, das heißt die menschliche Wirklichkeit für einen Traum, eine Täuschung, ein Nichts erklärt und das «wahre Wesen» der Erscheinungen wird in einem «Ding an sich» gesucht, bis zu dem keine Beobachtung, kein Erkennen reicht, das heißt von dem sich der Erkennende keine Vorstellung machen kann. Dieses «wahre Wesen» ist also für den Erkennenden ein völlig leerer Gedanke, der Gedanke an ein Nichts. Traum ist bei jenen Philosophen, die von dem «Ding an sich» sprechen, die Erscheinungswelt. Nichts ist aber das, was sie als das «wahre Wesen» dieser Erscheinungswelt ansehen. Die ganze philosophische Bewegung, die von dem «Ding an sich» spricht und die in der neueren Zeit sich namentlich auf Kant stützt, ist der Glaube an das Nichts, ist philosophischer Nihilismus.

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[ 65 ] Wenn der starke Geist nach der Ursache eines menschlichen Handelns und Vollbringens sucht, so findet er diese immer in dem Willen zur Macht der einzelnen Persönlichkeit. Der Mensch mit schwachem, mutlosem Intellekt will dies aber nicht zugeben. Er fühlt sich nicht kräftig genug, sich zum Herrn und Richtunggeber seines Handelns zu machen. Er deutet die Triebe, die ihn lenken, als Gebote einer fremden Macht. Er sagt nicht: ich handle, wie ich will; sondern er sagt: ich handle gemäß einem Gebote, wie ich soll. Er will sich nicht befehlen, er will gehorchen. Auf der einen Stufe der Entwicklung sehen die Menschen ihre Antriebe zum Handeln als Gebote Gottes an, auf einer andern Stufe glauben sie in ihrem Innern eine Stimme zu vernehmen, die ihnen gebietet. Sie wagen es im letzteren Falle nicht, zu sagen: ich bin es selbst, der da befiehlt; sie behaupten: in mir spricht ein höherer Wille sich aus. Dass sein Gewissen ihm in jedem einzelnen Falle sagt, wie er handeln soll, ist die Meinung des einen; dass ein kategorischer Imperativ ihm befiehlt, behauptet ein anderer. Hören wir, was J. G. Fichte sagt: «Es soll schlechthin etwas geschehen, weil es nun einmal geschehen soll: dasjenige, was das Gewissen nun eben von mir ... fordert; dass es geschehe, dazu, lediglich dazu bin ich da; um es zu erkennen, habe ich Verstand: um es zu vollbringen, Kraft.» («Bestimmung des Menschen», 3. Buch.) Ich führe mit Vorliebe J. G. Fichtes Aussprüche an, weil er mit eiserner Konsequenz die Meinung der «Schwachen und Missratenen» bis ans Ende gedacht hat. Wozu diese Meinungen zuletzt führen, kann man nur erkennen, wenn man sie da aufsucht, wo sie zu Ende gedacht worden sind; auf die Halben, die jeden Gedanken nur bis in seine Mitte denken, kann man sich nicht stützen.

[ 66 ] Nicht in der Einzelpersönlichkeit wird von denen, die in der angedeuteten Weise denken, der Quell des Wissens gesucht; sondern jenseits dieser Persönlichkeit in eine «Willen an sich». Eben dieser «Wille an sich» soll als «Stimme Gottes» oder «als Stimme des Gewissens», «kategorischer Imperativ» und so weiter zu dem Einzelnen sprechen. Er soll der universelle Lenker des menschlichen Handelns und der Urquell der Sittlichkeit sein und auch die Zwecke des sittlichen Handelns bestimmen. «Ich sage, das Gebot des Handelns selbst ist es, welches durch sich selbst mir einen Zweck setzt: dasselbe in mir, was mich nötigt, zu denken, dass ich so handeln solle, nötigt mich, zu glauben, dass aus diesem Handeln etwas erfolgen werde; es eröffnet dem Auge die Aussicht auf eine andere Welt.» «Wie ich im Gehorsam lebe, lebe ich zugleich in der Anschauung seines Zweckes, lebe ich in der bessern Welt, die er mir verheißt.» (Fichte, «Die Bestimmung des Menschen», 3. Buch.) Der also Denkende will sich nicht selbst sein Ziel setzen; er will von dem höheren Willen, dem er gehorcht, sich zu einem Ziele führen lassen. Er will sich seines Eigenwillens entledigen und sich zum Werkzeug «höherer» Zwecke machen. In Worten, die zu den schönsten Erzeugnissen des Sinnes für Gehorsam und Demut gehören, die mir bekannt sind, schildert Fichte die Hingabe an den «ewigen Willen an sich». «Erhabener, lebendiger Wille, den kein Name nennt und kein Begriff umfasst, wohl darf ich mein Gemüt zu dir erheben; denn du und ich sind nicht getrennt. Deine Stimme ertönt in mir, die meinige tönt in dir wieder; und alle meine Gedanken, wenn sie nur wahr und gut sind, sind in dir gedacht. — In dir, dem Unbegreiflichen, werde ich mir selbst, und wird mir die Welt vollkommen begreiflich, alle Rätsel meines Daseins werden gelöst, und die vollendetste Harmonie entsteht in meinem Geiste.» «Ich verhülle vor dir mein Angesicht und lege die Hand auf den Mund. Wie du für dich selbst bist und dir selbst erscheinst, kann ich nie einsehen, so gewiss ich nie du selbst werden kann. Nach tausendmal tausend durchlebten Geisterleben werde ich dich noch ebenso wenig begreifen als jetzt, in dieser Hütte von Erde.» («Bestimmung des Menschen», 3. Buch.)

[ 67 ] Wohin dieser Wille den Menschen zuletzt führen will, das kann der Einzelne nicht wissen. Wer an diesen Willen glaubt, gesteht also damit, dass er über die Endzwecke seines Handelns nichts weiß. Die Ziele, die sich der Einzelne schafft, sind aber für einen solchen Gläubigen eines höheren Willens keine «wahren» Ziele. Er setzt somit an die Stelle der durch das Individuum geschaffenen positiven Einzelziele einen Endzweck der ganzen Menschheit, dessen Gedankeninhalt aber ein Nichts ist. Ein solcher Gläubiger ist moralischer Nihilist. Er ist in der schlimmsten Art von Unwissenheit befangen, die sich erdenken lässt. Nietzsche wollte diese Art von Unwissenheit in einem besonderen Buche seines unvollendet gebliebenen Werkes «Der Wille zur Macht» behandeln. (Vgl. Anhang zu Band VIII der Gesamtausgabe von Nietzsches Werken.)

[ 68 ] Die Lobpreisung des moralischen Nihilismus finden wir wieder in Fichtes «Bestimmung des Menschen» (3. Buch): «Ich will nicht versuchen, was mir durch das Wesen der Endlichkeit versagt ist, und was mir zu nichts nützen würde; wie du an dir selbst bist, will ich nicht wissen. Aber deine Beziehungen und Verhältnisse zu mir, dem Endlichen, und zu allem Endlichen, liegen offen vor meinem Auge: werde ich, was ich sein soll! — und sie umgeben mich in hellerer Klarheit, als das Bewusstsein meines eignen Daseins. Du wirkest in mir die Erkenntnis von meiner Pflicht, von meiner Bestimmung in der Reihe der vernünftigen Wesen; wie, das weiß ich nicht, noch bedarf ich es zu wissen. Du weißt und erkennst, was ich denke und will; wie du wissen kannst, — durch welchen Akt du dieses Bewusstsein zustande bringst, darüber verstehe ich nichts; ja ich weiß sogar sehr wohl, dass der Begriff eines Akts, und eines besonderen Akts des Bewusstseins nur von mir gilt, nicht aber von dir, dem Unendlichen. Du willst, denn du willst, dass mein freier Gehorsam Folgen habe in alle Ewigkeit; den Akt deines Willens begreift ich nicht, und weiß nur so viel, dass er nicht ähnlich ist dem meinigen. Du tust, und dein Wille selbst ist Tat; aber deine Wirkungsweise ist der, die ich allein zu denken vermag, geradezu entgegengesetzt. Du lebest und bist, denn du weißt, willst und wirkest, allgegenwärtig der endlichen Vernunft; aber du bist nicht, wie ich alle Ewigkeiten hindurch allein ein Sein werde denken können

[ 69 ] Dem moralischen Nihilismus stellt Nietzsche die Ziele gegenüber, die der schaffende Einzelwille sich setzt. Den Lehrern der Ergebung ruft Zarathustra zu:

[ 70 ] «Diese Lehrer der Ergebung! Überall hin, wo es klein und krank und grindig ist, kriechen sie, gleich Läusen; und nur mein Ekel hindert mich, sie zu knacken. Wohlan! Dies ist meine Predigt für ihre Ohren: ich bin Zarathustra, der Gottlose, der da spricht: ‹wer ist gottloser denn ich, dass ich mich seiner Unterweisung freue?› Ich bin Zarathustra, der Gottlose: wo finde ich meinesgleichen? Und alle die sind meinesgleichen, die sich selber ihren Willen geben und alle Ergebung von sich abtun

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[ 71 ] Die starke Persönlichkeit, die Ziele schafft, ist rücksichtslos in der Ausführung derselben. Die schwache Persönlichkeit dagegen führt nur das aus, wozu der Wille Gottes oder die «Stimme des Gewissens» oder der «kategorische Imperativ» Ja sagt. Was diesem Ja entspricht, bezeichnet der Schwache als gut, was diesem Ja zuwider ist als böse. Der Starke kann dieses «gut und bös» nicht anerkennen; denn er erkennt diejenige Macht nicht an, von der sich der Schwache sein Gutes und Böses bestimmen lässt. Was er, der Starke, will, ist für ihn gut; er führt es durch gegen alle widerstrebenden Mächte. Was ihn in dieser Durchführung stört, das sucht er zu überwinden. Er glaubt nicht, dass ein «ewiger Weltwille» alle einzelnen Willensentschlüsse zu einer großen Harmonie lenkt; aber er ist der Ansicht, dass alle menschliche Entwicklung aus den Willensimpulsen der Einzelpersönlichkeiten sich ergibt, und dass ein ewiger Krieg besteht zwischen den einzelnen Willensäußerungen, in dem immer der stärkere Wille über den schwächeren siegt. Von den Schwachen und Mutlosen wird die starke Persönlichkeit, die sich selbst Gesetz und Zweck geben will, als böse, als sündhaft bezeichnet. Sie erregt Furcht, denn sie durchbricht die hergebrachten Ordnungen; sie nennt wertlos, was die Schwachen gewohnt sind, wertvoll zu nennen, und sie erfindet Neues, vor ihr Unbekanntes, das sie als wertvoll bezeichnet. «Jede individuelle Handlung, jede individuelle Denkweise erregt Schauder; es ist gar nicht auszurechnen, was gerade die selteneren, ausgesuchteren, ursprünglicheren Geister im ganzen Verlauf der Geschichte dadurch gelitten haben müssen, dass sie immer als die bösen und gefährlichen empfunden wurden, ja dass sie sich selber so empfanden. Unter der Herrschaft der Sittlichkeit der Sitte hat die Originalität jeder Art ein böses Gewissen bekommen; bis diesen Augenblick ist der Himmel der Besten noch dadurch verdüsterter, als er sein müsste.» («Morgenröte», § 9.)

[ 72 ] Der wahrhaft freie Geist fasst schlechthin erste Entschlüsse; der unfreie entscheidet sich nach dem Herkommen. «Sittlichkeit ist nichts anderes (also namentlich nicht mehr!), als Gehorsam gegen Sitten, welcher Art diese auch sein mögen; Sitten aber sind die herkömmliche Art zu handeln und abzuschätzen.» («Morgenröte», § 9.) Dieses Herkommen ist es, was von den Moralisten als «ewiger Wille», «kategorischer Imperativ» gedeutet wird. Jedes Herkommen ist aber das Ergebnis der naturgemäßen Triebe und Impulse einzelner Menschen, ganzer Stämme, Völker und so weiter. Es ist ebenso das Produkt natürlicher Ursachen, wie etwa die Witterungsverhältnisse einzelner Gegenden. Der freie Geist erklärt sich durch dieses Herkommen nicht gebunden. Er hat seine individuellen Triebe und Impulse, und diese sind nicht weniger berechtigt als die der anderen. Er setzt diese Impulse in Handlungen um, wie eine Wolke Regen auf die Erdoberfläche sendet, wenn die Ursachen dazu vorhanden sind. Der freie Geist steht jenseits dessen, was das Herkommen als gut und böse ansieht. Er schafft sich selbst sein Gut und Böse.

[ 73 ] «Als ich zu den Menschen kam, da fand ich sie sitzen auf einem alten Dünkel: Alle dünkten sich lange schon zu wissen, was dem Menschen gut und böse sei. Eine alte müde Sache dünkte ihn alles Reden von Tugend; und wer gut schlafen wollte, der sprach vor dem Schlafengehen noch von ‹Gut› und ‹Böse›. Diese Schläferei störte ich auf, als ich lehrte: was gut und böse ist, das weiß noch niemand — es sei denn der Schaffende! — Das aber ist der, welcher des Menschen Ziel schafft und der Erde ihren Sinn gibt und ihre Zukunft: dieser erst schafft es, dass etwas gut und böse ist.» («Zarathustra», 3. Teil, «Von alten und neuen Tafeln.»)

[ 74 ] Auch dann wenn der freie Geist handelt, wie es dem Herkommen gemäß ist, dann tut er es, weil er die herkömmlichen Motive zu den seinigen machen will, und weil er es in bestimmten Fällen nicht für nötig hält. an die Stelle des Herkömmlichen etwas Neues zu setzen.

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[ 75 ] Der Starke sucht in der Durchsetzung seines schaffenden Selbst seine Lebensaufgabe. Diese Selbstsucht unterscheidet ihn von den Schwachen, die in der selbstlosen Hingabe an das, was sie das Gute nennen, die Sittlichkeit sehen. Die Schwachen predigen die Selbstlosigkeit als die höchste Tugend. Ihre Selbstlosigkeit ist aber nur die Folge ihres Mangels an Schaffenskraft. Hätten sie ein schaffendes Selbst, so würden sie dieses auch durchsetzen wollen. Der Starke liebt den Krieg, denn er braucht den Krieg, um seine Schöpfungen gegen die widerstrebenden Mächte durchzusetzen.

[ 76 ] «Euren Feind sollt ihr suchen, euren Krieg sollt ihr führen und für eure Gedanken! Und wenn euer Gedanke unterliegt, so soll eure Redlichkeit darüber noch Triumph rufen!

[ 77 ] Ihr sollt den Frieden lieben als Mittel zu neuen Kriegen. Und den kurzen Frieden mehr als den langen.

[ 78 ] Euch rate ich nicht zur Arbeit, sondern zum Kampfe. Euch rate ich nicht zum Frieden, sondern zum Siege. Eure Arbeit sei ein Kampf, euer Friede sei ein Sieg! ...

[ 79 ] Ihr sagt, die gute Sache sei es, die sogar den Krieg heilige? Ich sage euch: der gute Krieg ist es, der jede Sache heiligt.

[ 80 ] Der Krieg und der Mut haben mehr große Dinge getan, als die Nächstenliebe. Nicht euer Mitleiden, sondern eure Tapferkeit rettete bisher die Verunglückten.» («Zarathustra», 1. Teil. «Vom Krieg und Kriegsvolke.»)

[ 81 ] Unerbittlich und ohne Schonung des Widerstrebenden handelt der Schaffende. Er kennt nicht die Tugend der Leidenden: das Mitleid. Aus seiner Kraft kommen die Antriebe des Schaffenden, nicht aus dem Gefühle des fremden Leidens. Dass die Kraft siege, dafür setzt er sich ein, nicht dass das Leidende, Schwache gepflegt werde. Schopenhauer hat die ganze Welt für ein Lazarett erklärt, und die aus dem Mitgefühle mit den Leidenden entspringenden Handlungen für die höchsten Tugenden. Er hat damit die Moral des Christentums in anderer Form ausgesprochen, als dieses selbst es tut. Der Schaffende fühlt sich nicht berufen, Krankenwärterdienste zu verrichten. Die Tüchtigen, Gesunden können nicht um der Schwachen, Kranken willen da sein. Das Mitleid schwächt die Kraft, den Mut, die Tapferkeit.

[ 82 ] Das Mitleid sucht gerade das zu erhalten, was der Starke überwinden will: die Schwäche, das Leiden. Der Sieg des Starken über das Schwache ist der Sinn aller menschlichen wie aller natürlichen Entwicklung. «Leben selbst ist wesentlich Aneignung, Verletzung, Überwältigung des Fremden und Schwächeren, Unterdrückung, Härte, Aufzwängung eigner Formen, Einverleibung und mindestens, mildestens, Ausbeutung.» («Jenseits von Gut und Böse», § 259.)

[ 83 ] «Und wollt ihr nicht Schicksale sein und Unerbittliche: wie könntet ihr mit mir — siegen? Und wenn eure Härte nicht blitzen und schneiden und zerschneiden will: wie könntet ihr einst mit mir — schaffen? Die Schaffenden nämlich sind hart. Und Seligkeit muss es euch dünken, eure Hand auf Jahrtausende zu drücken wie auf Wachs — Seligkeit, auf dem Willen von Jahrtausenden zu schreiben wie auf Erz — härter als Erz, edler als Erz. Ganz hart ist allein das Edelste. Diese neue Tafel, 0 meine Brüder, stelle ich über euch: werdet hart!» («Zarathustra», 3. Teil. «Von alten und neuen Tafeln.»)

[ 84 ] Der freie Geist macht keinen Anspruch auf Mitleid. Wer ihn bemitleiden wollte, den müsste er fragen: hältst du mich für so schwach, dass ich mein Leid nicht selbst tragen kann? Ihm geht jedes Mitleid gegen die Scham. Nietzsche bringt den Widerwillen des Starken gegen das Mitleiden im vierten Teil seines «Zarathustra» zur Anschauung. Zarathustra kommt auf seinen Wanderungen in ein Tal, das «Schlangentod» heißt. Kein Lebewesen findet sich hier. Nur eine Art hässlicher grüner Schlangen kommt hierher, um zu sterben. Dieses Tal hat der «hässlichste Mensch» aufgesucht. Dieser will von keinem Wesen gesehen werden wegen seiner Hässlichkeit. In diesem Tal sieht ihn niemand außer Gott. Aber auch dessen Anblick kann er nicht ertragen. Das Bewusstsein, dass Gottes Blicke in alle Räume dringen, ist ihm zur Last. Er hat deshalb Gott getötet, das heißt er hat den Glauben an Gott in sich ertötet. Er ist zum Atheisten geworden wegen seiner Hässlichkeit. Als Zarathustra diesen Menschen sieht, überfällt ihn noch einmal das, was er für immer in sich getilgt zu haben glaubt: das Mitleid mit der furchtbaren Hässlichkeit. Dies ist eine Versuchung Zarathustras. Er weist aber das Gefühl des Mitleids bald zurück und wird wieder hart. Der hässlichste Mensch sagt zu ihm: Deine Härte ehrt meine Hässlichkeit. Ich bin zu reich an Hässlichkeit, um irgend eines Menschen Mitleid zu ertragen. Mitleid geht gegen die Scham.

[ 85 ] Wer Mitleid braucht, kann nicht allein stehen, und der freie Geist will vollständig auf sich selbst gestellt sein.

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[ 86 ] Mit der Aufzeigung des natürlichen Willens zur Macht als Ursache der menschlichen Handlungen geben sich die Schwachen nicht zufrieden. Sie suchen nicht bloß nach natürlichen Zusammenhängen in der Menschenentwicklung, sondern sie suchen das Verhältnis der menschlichen Handlungen zu dem, was sie als den «Willen an sich», die «ewige, sittliche Weltordnung» nennen. Wer dieser Weltordnung zuwiderhandelt, dem sprechen sie eine Schuld zu. Und sie begnügen sich auch nicht damit, eine Handlung nach ihren natürlichen Folgen zu bewerten, sondern sie machen den Anspruch darauf, dass eine schuldvolle Handlung auch moralische Folgen, Strafen nach sich ziehe. Sie nennen sich selbst schuldig, wenn sie ihr Handeln mit der sittlichen Weltordnung nicht in Übereinstimmung finden; sie wenden sich mit Abscheu von dem Quell des Bösen in sich ab und nennen dies Gefühl böses Gewissen. Alle diese Begriffe lässt die starke Persönlichkeit nicht gelten. Sie kümmert sich nur um die natürlichen Folgen ihrer Handlungen. Sie fragt: wie viel ist meine Handlungsweise für das Leben wert? Entspricht sie dem, was ich gewollt habe? Der Starke kann sich grämen, wenn ihm eine Handlung fehlschlägt, wenn das Resultat seinen Absichten nicht entspricht. Aber er klagt sich nicht an. Denn er misst seine Handlungsweise nicht an außernatürlichen Maßstäben. Er weiß, dass er so handelt, wie es seinen natürlichen Trieben entspricht, und kann höchstens bedauern, dass diese nicht besser sind. Ebenso hält er es mit der Beurteilung fremder Handlungen. Ein moralisches Abschätzen der Handlungen kennt er nicht. Er ist Immoralist.

[ 87 ] Was das Herkommen als böse bezeichnet, sieht der Immoralist ebenso als Ausfluss menschlicher Instinkte an, wie das Gute. Die Strafe gilt ihm nicht als moralisch bedingt, sondern nur als ein Mittel, Instinkte gewisser Menschen, die andern schädlich sind, auszurotten. Die Gesellschaft straft nach Ansicht des Immoralisten nicht deswegen, weil sie ein «moralisches Recht» hat, die Schuld zu sühnen, sondern allein, weil sie sich stärker erweist, als der Einzelne, welcher der Gesamtheit widerstrebende Instinkte hat. Die Macht der Gesellschaft steht gegen die Macht des Einzelnen. Dies ist der natürliche Zusammenhang einer «bösen» Handlung des Einzelnen mit der Rechtsprechung der Gesellschaft und der Bestrafung dieses Einzelnen. Es ist der Wille zur Macht, das heißt zum Ausleben jener Instinkte, die bei der Mehrzahl der Menschen vorhanden sind, der sich in der Rechtspflege einer Gesellschaft äußert. Der Sieg einer Mehrheit über einen Einzelnen ist jede Bestrafung. Siegte der Einzelne über die Gesellschaft, so müsste seine Handlungsweise als gut, die der andern als böse bezeichnet werden. Das jeweilige Recht drückt nur aus, was die Gesellschaft eben als die beste Grundlage ihres Willens zur Macht anerkennt.

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[ 88 ] Weil Nietzsche in der menschlichen Handlungsweise nur einen Ausfluss der Instinkte sieht, und diese letzteren bei verschiedenen Menschen verschieden sind, scheint es ihm notwendig, dass auch deren Handlungsweisen verschieden sind. Nietzsche ist deshalb ein entschiedener Gegner des demokratischen Grundsatzes: Gleiche Rechte und gleiche Pflichten für alle. Die Menschen sind ungleich, deshalb müssen auch ihre Rechte und Pflichten ungleich sein. Der natürliche Gang der Weltgeschichte wird stets starke und schwache, schaffende und unfruchtbare Menschen aufweisen. Und die Starken werden immer dazu berufen sein, den Schwachen die Ziele zu bestimmen. Ja noch mehr: die Starken werden sich der Schwachen als Mittel zum Zwecke, das heißt als Sklaven bedienen. Nietzsche spricht natürlich nicht von einem «moralischen» Recht der Starken zur Haltung von Sklaven. «Moralische» Rechte erkennt er nicht an. Sondern er ist der Meinung, dass die Überwindung des Schwächeren durch den Stärkeren, die er für das Prinzip alles Lebens hält, notwendig zur Sklaverei führen muss.

[ 89 ] Es ist auch natürlich, dass sich der Überwundene gegen den Überwinder auflehnt. Wenn diese Auflehnung sich nicht durch die Tat äußern kann, so äußert sie sich wenigstens im Gefühle. Und der Ausdruck dieses Gefühles ist die Rache, die stets in den Herzen derer wohnt, die in irgend einer Weise von den besser Veranlagten überwunden worden sind. Als Ausfluss dieser Rache sieht Nietzsche die moderne sozialdemokratische Bewegung an. Der Sieg dieser Bewegung würde ihm eine Erhöhung der Missratenen, Übel-Weggekommenen zu Ungunsten der Besseren sein. Gerade das Gegenteil strebt Nietzsche an: die Pflege der starken, selbstherrlichen Persönlichkeit. Und er hasst die Sucht, die alles gleich machen und die souveräne Individualität in dem Meere der allgemeinen Mittelmäßigkeit verschwinden lassen will.

[ 90 ] Nicht alle sollen dasselbe haben und genießen, meint Nietzsche, sondern jeder soll haben und genießen, was er nach Maßgabe seiner persönlichen Stärke erreichen kann.

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[ 91 ] Was der Mensch wert ist, hängt allein von dem Wert seiner Instinkte ab. Durch nichts anderes kann der Wert des Menschen bestimmt werden. Man spricht von dem Werte der Arbeit. Die Arbeit soll den Menschen adeln. Aber die Arbeit hat an sich gar keinen Wert. Nur dadurch, dass sie dem Menschen dient, erhält sie einen Wert. Nur insofern sich die Arbeit als natürliche Folge der menschlichen Neigungen darstellt, ist sie des Menschen würdig. Wer sich zum Diener der Arbeit macht, entwürdigt sich. Nur der Mensch, der nicht sich selbst seinen Wert bestimmen kann, sucht diesen Wert an der Größe seines Werkes abzumessen. Es ist charakteristisch für das demokratische Bürgertum der neueren Zeit, dass es in der Wertbemessung des Menschen sich nach dessen Arbeit richtet. Sogar Goethe ist von dieser Gesinnung nicht frei. Lässt er doch seinen Faust die volle Befriedigung in dem Bewusstsein getaner Arbeit finden.

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[ 92 ] Auch die Kunst hat nach Nietzsches Meinung nur Wert, wenn sie dem Leben des Einzelmenschen dient. Auch hier vertritt Nietzsche die Ansicht der starken Persönlichkeit und lehnt alles ab, was die schwachen Instinkte über die Kunst aussprechen. Fast alle deutschen Ästhetiker vertreten den Standpunkt der schwachen Instinkte. Die Kunst soll ein «Unendliches» im «Endlichen», ein «Ewiges» im «Zeitlichen», eine «Idee» in der «Wirklichkeit» darstellen. Für Schelling zum Beispiel ist alle sinnliche Schönheit nur ein Abglanz jener unendlichen Schönheit, die wir nie mit den Sinnen wahrnehmen können. Das Kunstwerk ist nicht um seiner selbst willen und durch das, was es ist, schön, sondern weil es die Idee der Schönheit abbildet. Das sinnliche Bild ist nur ein Ausdrucksmittel, nur die Form für einen übersinnlichen Inhalt. Und Hegel nennt das Schöne «das sinnliche Scheinen der Idee». Ähnliches kann man auch bei den andern deutschen Ästhetikern finden. Für Nietzsche ist die Kunst ein lebensförderndes Element, und nur, wenn sie dieses ist, hat sie Berechtigung. Wer das Leben, wie er es unmittelbar wahrnimmt, nicht ertragen kann, der formt es sich nach seinem Bedürfnisse um, und damit schafft er ein Kunstwerk. Und was will der Genießende vom Kunstwerk? Er will Erhöhung seiner Lebensfreude, Stärkung seiner Lebenskräfte, Befriedigung von Bedürfnissen, die ihm die Wirklichkeit nicht befriedigt. Aber er will, wenn sein Sinn auf das Wirkliche gerichtet ist, nicht durch das Kunstwerk den Abglanz des Göttlichen, Überirdischen erblicken. Hören wir, wie Nietzsche den Eindruck schildert, den Bizets Carmen auf ihn gemacht: «Ich werde ein besserer Mensch, wenn mir dieser Bizet zuredet. Auch ein besserer Musikant, ein besserer Zuhörer. Kann man überhaupt noch besser zuhören? — Ich vergrabe meine Ohren noch unter diese Musik, ich höre deren Ursache. Es scheint mir, dass ich ihre Entstehung erlebe — ich zittere vor Gefahren, die irgend ein Wagnis begleiten, ich bin entzückt über Glücksfälle, an denen Bizet unschuldig ist. — Und seltsam! im Grunde denke ich nicht daran, oder weiß es nicht, wie sehr ich daran denke. Denn ganz andere Gedanken laufen mir währenddem durch den Kopf... Hat man bemerkt, dass die Musik den Geist frei macht? dem Gedanken Flügel gibt? dass man um so mehr Philosoph wird, je mehr man Musiker wird? — Der graue Himmel der Abstraktion wie von Blitzen durchzuckt; das Licht stark genug für alles Filigran der Dinge; die großen Probleme nahe zum Greifen; die Welt wie von einem Berge aus überblickt. — Ich definierte eben das philosophische Pathos. — Und unversehens fallen mir Antworten in den Schoß, ein kleiner Hagel von Eis und Weisheit, von gelösten Problemen ... Wo bin ich? — Bizet macht mich fruchtbar. Alles Gute macht mich fruchtbar. Ich habe keine andre Dankbarkeit, ich habe auch keinen andern Beweis dafür, was gut ist.» — («Der Fall Wagner», § 1.) Weil Richard Wagners Musik eine solche Wirkung nicht auf ihn machte, deshalb lehnte sie Nietzsche ab: «Meine Einwände gegen die Musik Wagners sind physiologische Einwände... Meine ‹Tatsache›, mein ‹petit fait vrai› ist, dass ich nicht mehr leicht atme, wenn diese Musik erst auf mich wirkt; dass alsbald mein Fuß gegen sie böse wird und revoltiert: er hat das Bedürfnis nach Takt, Tanz, Marsch... er verlangt von der Musik vorerst die Entzückungen, welche in gutem Gehn, Schreiten, Tanzen liegen. Protestiert aber nicht auch mein Magen? mein Herz? mein Blutlauf? Betrübt sich nicht mein Eingeweide? Werde ich nicht unversehens heiser dabei?... Und so frage ich mich: was will eigentlich mein ganzer Leib von der Musik überhaupt?... Ich glaube, seine Erleichterung: wie als ob alle animalischen Funktionen durch leichte, kühne, ausgelassne, selbstgewisse Rhythmen beschleunigt werden sollten; wie als ob das eherne, das bleierne Leben durch goldene zärtliche ölgleiche Melodien seine Schwere verlieren sollte. Meine Schwermut will in den Verstecken und Abgründen der Vollkommenheit ausruhn: dazu brauche ich Musik.» («Nietzsche contra Wagner». Kap.: «Wo ich Einwände mache»)—

[ 93 ] Im Anfange seiner schriftstellerischen Laufbahn täuschte sich Nietzsche über das, was seine Instinkte von der Kunst verlangen, deshalb war er damals ein Anhänger Wagners. Er hat sich durch das Studium der Schopenhauerschen Philosophie zum Idealismus verführen lassen. Er glaubte einige Zeit hindurch an den Idealismus und täuschte sich künstliche Bedürfnisse, ideale Bedürfnisse vor. Erst im weiteren Verlaufe seines Lebens merkte er, dass aller Idealismus seinen Trieben gerade entgegengesetzt ist. Er wurde nun aufrichtiger gegen sich selbst. Er sprach aus, wie er selbst empfand. Und das konnte nur zur vollständigen Ablehnung von Wagners Musik führen, die ja immer mehr den asketischen Charakter annahm, den wir bereits als Kennzeichen von Wagners letztem Wirkensziel aufgeführt haben.

[ 94 ] Die Ästhetiker, die es der Kunst zur Aufgabe machen, die Idee zu versinnlichen, das Göttliche zu verkörpern, vertreten auf diesem Gebiete eine ähnliche Ansicht wie die philosophischen Nihilisten auf dem Gebiete der Erkenntnis und der Moral. Sie suchen in den Kunstobjekten ein Jenseitiges, das sich aber vor dem Wirklichkeitssinn in ein Nichts auflöst. Es gibt auch einen ästhetischen Nihilismus.

[ 95 ] Diesem steht die Ästhetik der starken Persönlichkeit gegenüber, die in der Kunst ein Abbild der Wirklichkeit, eine höhere Wirklichkeit sieht, die der Mensch lieber genießt als die Alltäglichkeit.

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[ 96 ] Zwei Menschentypen stellt Nietzsche einander gegenüber: den Schwachen und den Starken. Der erstere sucht die Erkenntnis als einen objektiven Tatbestand, der von der Außenwelt in seinen Geist einfließen soll. Er lässt sich sein Gutes und Böses von einem «ewigen Weltwillen» oder einem «kategorischen Imperativ» diktieren. Er bezeichnet jede nicht von diesem Weltwillen, sondern nur von dem schöpferischen Eigenwillen bestimmte Handlung als Sünde, die eine moralische Strafe nach sich ziehen muss. Er möchte für alle Menschen gleiche Rechte dekretieren und den Wert des Menschen nach einem äußeren Maßstabe bestimmen. Er möchte endlich in der Kunst ein Abbild des Göttlichen, eine Kunde aus dem Jenseits erblicken. Der Starke dagegen sieht alle Erkenntnis als den Ausdruck des Willens zur Macht an. Er sucht durch die Erkenntnis die Dinge denkbar und sich dadurch untertan zu machen. Er weiß, dass er selbst der Schöpfer der Wahrheit ist; dass niemand als er selbst sein Gutes und sein Böses schaffen kann. Er betrachtet die Handlungen des Menschen als Folgen natürlicher Triebe und lässt sie gelten als Naturereignisse, die niemals als Sünden zu betrachten sind und nicht eine moralische Verurteilung verdienen. Er sucht den Wert des Menschen in der Tüchtigkeit seiner Instinkte. Einen Menschen mit den Instinkten für Gesundheit, Geist, Schönheit, Ausdauer, Vornehmheit schätzt er höher als einen solchen mit den Instinkten für Schwäche, Hässlichkeit, Sklaverei. Er beurteilt ein Kunstwerk nach dem Grade, in dem es zur Steigerung seiner Kräfte beiträgt.

[ 97 ] Diesen letzteren Menschentypus versteht Nietzsche unter seinem Übermenschen. Solche Übermenschen konnten bisher nur durch das Zusammentreffen zufälliger Umstände entstehen. Ihre Entwicklung zum bewussten Ziele der Menschheit zu machen, ist die Absicht, die Zarathustra hat. Man sah bisher das Ziel der menschlichen Entwicklung in irgendwelchen Idealen. Hier hält Nietzsche eine Änderung der Anschauungen für nötig. Der «höherwertigere Typus ist oft genug schon da gewesen: aber als ein Glücksfall, als eine Ausnahme, niemals als gewollt. Vielmehr ist er gerade am besten gefürchtet worden, er war bisher beinahe das Furchtbare; — und aus der Furcht heraus wurde der umgekehrte Typus gewollt, gezüchtet, erreicht: das Haustier, das Herdentier, das kranke Tier Mensch — der Christ ...» («Antichrist», § 3.)

[ 98 ] Zarathustras Weisheit soll diesen Übermenschen, zu dem jener andere Typus nur ein Übergang ist, lehren.

[ 99 ] Nietzsche nennt diese Weisheit eine dionysische. Es ist eine Weisheit, die nicht dem Menschen von außen gegeben wird; es ist eine selbstgeschaffene Weisheit. Der dionysische Weise forscht nicht; er schafft. Er steht nicht als Betrachter außer der Welt, die er erkennen will; er ist Eins geworden mit seiner Erkenntnis. Er sucht nicht nach einem Gotte; was er sich noch als göttlich vorstellen kann, ist nur Er selbst als Schöpfer seiner eigenen Welt. Wenn dieser Zustand auf alle Kräfte des menschlichen Organismus sich erstreckt, so gibt das den dionysischen Menschen, dem es unmöglich ist, irgendeine Suggestion nicht zu verstehen; er übersieht kein Zeichen des Affekts, er hat den höchsten Grad des verstehenden und erratenden Instinktes, wie er den höchsten Grad von Mitteilungskunst besitzt. Er geht in jede Haut, in jeden Affekt ein: er verwandelt sich beständig. Dem dionysischen Weisen steht der bloße Betrachter gegenüber, der sich immer außerhalb seiner Erkenntnisobjekte stehend glaubt, als objektiver, leidender Zuschauer. Dem dionysischen Menschen steht der apollinische gegenüber, der «vor allem das Auge erregt hält, so dass es die Kraft der Vision bekommt». Visionen, Bilder von Dingen, die jenseits der Menschen-Wirklichkeit stehen, erstrebt der apollinische Geist, nicht eine durch ihn selbst geschaffene Weisheit.

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[ 100 ] Die apollinische Weisheit hat den Charakter des Ernstes. Sie empfindet die Herrschaft des Jenseits, das sie nur im Bilde besitzt, als einen schweren Druck, als eine ihr widerstrebende Macht. Ernst ist die apollinische Weisheit, denn sie glaubt sich im Besitze einer Kunde aus dem Jenseits, wenn diese auch nur durch Bilder, Visionen vermittelt sein soll. Schwer beladen mit seiner Erkenntnis wandelt der apollinische Geist einher, denn er trägt eine Bürde, die aus einer andern Welt stammt. Und den Ausdruck der Würde nimmt er an, denn vor den Kundgebungen des Unendlichen muss jedes Lachen verstummen.

[ 101 ] Dieses Lachen aber charakterisiert den dionysischen Geist. Er weiß, dass alles, was er Weisheit nennt, nur seine Weisheit ist, von ihm erfunden, um sich das Leben leicht zu machen. Nur dieses Eine soll ja seine Weisheit sein: ein Mittel, das ihm erlaubt, zum Leben Ja zu sagen. Dem dionysischen Menschen ist der Geist der Schwere zuwider, weil er das Leben nicht erleichtert, sondern niederdrückt. Die selbstgeschaffene Weisheit ist eine heitere Weisheit, denn wer sich selbst seine Bürde schafft, der schafft sich nur eine solche, die er auch leicht tragen kann. Mit der selbstgeschaffenen Weisheit bewegt sich der dionysische Geist leicht durch die Welt wie ein Tänzer.

[ 102 ] «Dass ich aber der Weisheit gut bin und oft zu gut: das macht, sie erinnert mich gar sehr an das Leben!

[ 103 ] Sie hat ihr Auge, ihr Lachen und sogar ihr goldnes Angelrütchen: was kann ich dafür, dass die beiden sich so ähnlich sehn?»

[ 104 ] «In dein Auge schaute ich jüngst, O Leben: Gold sah ich in deinem Nacht-Auge blinken — mein Herz stand still vor dieser Wollust:

[ 105 ] —einen goldenen Kahn sah ich blinken auf nächtigen Gewässern, einen sinkenden, trinkenden, wieder winkenden goldenen Schaukel-Kahn!

[ 106 ] Nach meinem Fuße, dem tanzwütigen, warfst du einen Blick, einen lachenden, fragenden, schmelzenden Schaukel-Blick:

[ 107 ] Zweimal nur regtest du deine Klapper mit kleinen Händen — da schaukelte mein Fuß vor Tanz-Wut.—

[ 108 ] Meine Fersen bäumten sich, meine Zehen horchten, dich zu verstehen: doch trägt der Tänzer sein Ohr — in seinen Zehen!» («Zarathustra», z. u. 3. Teil. «Die Tanzlieder.»)

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[ 109 ] Weil der dionysische Geist aus sich selbst alle Antriebe seines Tuns entnimmt und keiner äußeren Macht gehorcht, ist er ein freier Geist. Denn ein freier Geist ist derjenige, der nur seiner Natur folgt. Nun ist allerdings in Nietzsches Werken nur die Rede von Instinkten als den Antrieben des freien Geistes. Ich glaube, dass hier Nietzsche mit einem Namen eine Reihe von Antrieben zusammengefasst hat, die eine mehr ins Einzelne gehende Betrachtung erfordern. Nietzsche nennt Instinkte sowohl die bei den Tieren vorhandenen Triebe zur Ernährung und Selbsterhaltung, wie auch die höchsten Antriebe der menschlichen Natur, zum Beispiel den Erkenntnistrieb, den Trieb, nach sittlichen Maßstäben zu handeln, den Trieb, sich an Kunstwerken zu ergötzen und so weiter. Nun sind zwar alle diese Triebe Äußerungsformen einer und derselben Grundkraft. Aber sie stellen doch verschiedene Stufen in der Entwicklung dieser Kraft dar. Die moralischen Antriebe zum Beispiel sind eine besondere Stufe der Instinkte. Wenn auch zugegeben werden kann, dass sie nur höhere Formen sinnlicher Instinkte sind, so treten sie doch im Menschen auf diese moralische Phantasie hat, ist wirklich frei, denn der Mensch muss nach bewussten Triebfedern handeln. Und wenn er solche nicht selbst produzieren kann, dann muss er sich dieselben von äußeren Autoritäten oder von dem in Form der Gewissensstimme in ihm sprechenden Herkommen geben lassen. Ein Mensch, der sich bloß seinen sinnlichen Instinkten überlässt, handelt wie ein Tier; ein Mensch, der seine sinnlichen Instinkte unter fremde Gedanken stellt, handelt unfrei; erst der Mensch, der sich selbst Seine moralischen Ziele schafft, handelt frei. Die moralische Phantasie fehlt in Nietzsches Ausführungen. Wer dessen Gedanken zu Ende denkt, muss notwendig auf diesen Begriff kommen. Aber andererseits ist es auch eine unbedingte Notwendigkeit, dass dieser Begriff der Nietzscheschen Weltanschauung eingefügt wird. Sonst könnte gegen dieselbe immerfort eingewendet werden: Zwar ist der dionysische Mensch kein Knecht des Herkommens oder des «jenseitigen Willens», aber er ist ein Knecht seiner eigenen Instinkte. eine besondere Art ins Dasein. Dies zeigt sich darin, dass es dem Menschen möglich ist, Handlungen zu vollführen, die nicht unmittelbar auf sinnliche Instinkte zurückzuführen sind, sondern nur auf jene Antriebe, die eben als höhere Formen des Instinktes zu bezeichnen sind. Der Mensch schafft sich Antriebe seines Handelns, die nicht aus seinen sinnlichen Trieben abzuleiten sind, sondern nur aus dem bewussten Denken. Er setzt sich individuelle Zwecke vor, aber er setzt sich diese mit Bewusstsein vor. Und es ist ein großer Unterschied, ob er einem unbewusst entstandenen und erst hinterher in das Bewusstsein aufgenommenen Instinkte oder einem Gedanken folgt, den er von vornherein mit vollem Bewusstsein produziert hat. Wenn ich esse, weil mein Nahrungstrieb mich drängt, so ist dies etwas wesentlich anderes, als wenn ich eine mathematische Aufgabe löse. Die denkende Erfassung der Welterscheinungen stellt eine besondere Form des allgemeinen Wahrnehmungsvermögens dar. Sie unterscheidet sich von der bloßen sinnlichen Wahrnehmung. Dem Menschen sind nun die höheren Entwicklungsformen des Instinktlebens ebenso natürlich wie die niederen. Stehen beide nicht im Einklange, dann ist er zur Unfreiheit verurteilt. Es kann der Fall eintreten, dass eine schwache Persönlichkeit mit vollkommen gesunden sinnlichen Instinkten nur schwache geistige Instinkte hat. Dann wird sie zwar in bezug auf ihr Sinnenleben ihre eigene Individualität entfalten, aber die gedanklichen Antriebe ihres Handelns wird sie aus dem Herkommen entlehnen. Es kann eine Disharmonie beider Triebwelten entstehen. Die sinnlichen Triebe drängen zum Ausleben der eigenen Persönlichkeit, die geistigen Antriebe stehen in dem Banne einer äußeren Autorität. Das Geistesleben einer solchen Persönlichkeit wird von den sinnlichen, das sinnliche Leben von den geistigen Instinkten tyrannisiert. Denn beide Gewalten gehören nicht zusammen, sind nicht aus einer Wesenheit erwachsen. Zur wirklich freien Persönlichkeit gehört also nicht nur ein gesund entwickeltes individuelles sinnliches Triebleben, sondern auch die Fähigkeit, sich die gedanklichen Antriebe für das Leben zu schaffen. Erst derjenige Mensch ist vollkommen frei, der auch Gedanken produzieren kann, die zum Handeln führen. Ich habe das Vermögen, rein gedankliche Triebfedern des Handelns zu schaffen, in meiner Schrift «Die Philosophie der Freiheit» die «moralische Phantasie» genannt. Nur wer

[ 110 ] Nietzsche hat seinen Blick auf das Ursprüngliche, Eigenpersönliche im Menschen gerichtet. Er suchte dieses Eigenpersönliche herauszulösen aus dem Mantel des Unpersönlichen, in den es eine wirklichkeitsfeindliche Weltanschauung eingehüllt hat. Aber er ist nicht dazu gekommen, die Stufen des Lebens innerhalb der Persönlichkeit selbst zu unterscheiden. Er hat deshalb die Bedeutung des Bewusstseins für die menschliche Persönlichkeit unterschätzt. «Die Bewusstheit ist die letzte und späteste Entwicklung des Organischen und folglich auch das Unfertigste und Unkräftigste daran. Aus der Bewusstheit stammen unzählige Fehlgriffe, welche machen, dass ein Tier, ein Mensch zugrunde geht, früher als es nötig wäre, ‹über das Geschick‹, wie Homer sagt. Wäre nicht der erhaltende Verband der Instinkte so überaus viel mächtiger, diente er nicht im ganzen als Regulator: an ihrem verkehrten Urteilen und Phantasieren mit offenen Augen, an ihrer Ungründlichkeit und Leichtgläubigkeit, kurz eben an ihrer Bewusstheit müsste die Menschheit zugrunde gehen», sagt Nietzsche. («Fröhliche Wissenschaft», § II.)

[ 111 ] Dies ist zwar durchaus zuzugeben; aber nicht minder wahr ist es, dass der Mensch nur insoweit frei ist, als er sich gedankliche Triebfedern seines Handelns innerhalb des Bewusstseins schaffen kann.

[ 112 ] Die Betrachtung der gedanklichen Triebfedern führt aber noch weiter. Es ist eine Tatsache der Erfahrung, dass diese gedanklichen Triebfedern, die die Menschen aus sich heraus produzieren, bei den einzelnen Individuen doch bis zu einem gewissen Grade eine Übereinstimmung zeigen. Auch wenn der einzelne Mensch ganz frei aus sich heraus Gedanken schafft, so stimmen diese in gewisser Weise mit den Gedanken anderer Menschen überein. Daraus folgt für den Freien die Berechtigung, anzunehmen, dass die Harmonie in der menschlichen Gesellschaft von selbst eintritt, wenn sie aus souveränen Individuen besteht. Er kann diese Meinung dem Verteidiger der Unfreiheit gegenüberstellen, der glaubt, dass die Handlungen einer Mehrheit von Menschen nur zusammenstimmen, wenn sie durch eine äußere Gewalt nach einem gemeinsamen Ziele hingelenkt werden. Der freie Geist ist deshalb durchaus kein Anhänger jener Ansicht, welche die tierischen Triebe absolut frei walten lassen und alle gesetzlichen Ordnungen deshalb abschaffen will. Aber er verlangt absolute Freiheit für diejenigen, die nicht bloß ihren tierischen Instinkten folgen wollen, sondern die imstande sind, moralische Triebfedern, ihr eigenes Gutes und Böses, zu schaffen.

[ 113 ] Nur wer Nietzsche nicht so weit durchdrungen hat, dass er die letzten Konsequenzen von dessen Weltanschauung zu ziehen vermag, trotzdem sie Nietzsche nicht selbst gezogen hat, kann in ihm einen Menschen sehen, der «mit einer gewissen stilistischen Wollust zu enthüllen den Mut gefunden hat, was bisher etwa im geheimsten Seelengrunde grandioser Verbrechertypen ... verborgen gelauert haben mag». (Ludwig Stein, «Friedrich Nietzsches Weltanschauung und ihre Gefahren», S. 5.) Noch immer ist die Durchschnittsbildung eines deutschen Professors nicht so weit, das Große einer Persönlichkeit von deren kleinen Irrtümern abzutrennen. Sonst könnte man es nicht erleben, dass die Kritik eines solchen Professors gerade gegen diese kleinen Irrtümer sich richtet. Ich denke, wahrhafte Bildung nimmt das Große einer Persönlichkeit auf und verbessert kleine Irrtümer oder denkt halbfertige Gedanken zu Ende.

2. The Superman

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[ 1 ] All human striving, like that of every living being, consists in satisfying instincts and drives implanted by nature in the best possible way. When people strive for virtue, justice, knowledge and art, it is because virtue, justice and so on are the means by which human instincts can develop in the way that corresponds to their nature. The instincts would atrophy without these means. It is now a peculiarity of man that he forgets this connection of his living conditions with his natural instincts and regards those means to a natural, powerful life as something that in itself has an unconditional value. Man then says: virtue, justice, knowledge and so on must be pursued for their own sake. They do not have a value because they serve life, but rather life only acquires a value because it strives for these ideal goods. Man is not there to live according to his instincts, like the animal; rather, he should ennoble his instincts by placing them in the service of higher purposes. In this way, man comes to worship as ideals that which he himself has created for the satisfaction of his instincts and which give his life the right consecration. He demands submission to the ideals that he values more highly than himself. He detaches himself from the mother earth of reality and wants to give his existence a higher meaning and purpose. He invents an unnatural origin for his ideals. He calls them the "will of God", the "eternal moral commandments". He wants to strive for "truth for the sake of truth", "virtue for the sake of virtue". He only considers himself a good person when he has supposedly succeeded in taming his selfishness, i.e. his natural instincts, and selfishly following an ideal goal. To such an idealist, the person who has not achieved such self-conquest is considered ignoble and "evil".

[ 2 ] Now, all ideals originally stem from natural instincts. Even what the Christian regards as virtue, which God has revealed to him, was originally invented by men to satisfy some instinct or other. The natural origin has been forgotten and the divine one added. It is similar with the virtues that philosophers and preachers of morality put forward.

[ 3 ] If people only had healthy instincts and determined their ideals in accordance with them, the theoretical error about the origin of these ideals would do no harm. The idealists would have wrong views about the origin of their goals, but these goals themselves would be healthy and life would have to flourish. But there are unhealthy instincts that are not aimed at strengthening and promoting life, but at weakening and stunting it. These instincts take possession of the theoretical error mentioned above and make it the practical purpose of life. They tempt man to say that a perfect man is not the one who wants to serve himself, his life, but the one who devotes himself to the realization of an ideal. Under the influence of these instincts, man does not merely persist in mistakenly attributing an unnatural or supernatural origin to his goals, but he actually creates such ideals for himself or adopts them from others, which do not serve the needs of life. He no longer strives to bring to light the powers inherent in his personality, but lives according to a model imposed on his nature. Whether he takes this goal from a religion or whether he determines it himself on the basis of certain presuppositions not inherent in his nature: that is not the point. The philosopher who has a general purpose of mankind in mind and derives his moral ideals from it, puts fetters on human nature just as much as the founder of religion who says to men: this is the goal that God has set for you; and you must follow it. It is also irrelevant whether man sets out to become an image of God or whether he invents an ideal of the "perfect man" and wants to become as similar to this as possible. Only the individual human being and the drives and instincts of this individual human being are real. Only by focusing on the needs of his own person can man experience what is good for his life. The individual human being does not become "perfect" when he denies himself and becomes similar to a role model, but when he realizes that which urges him towards realization. Human activity does not only acquire meaning when it serves an impersonal, external purpose; it has its meaning in itself.

[ 4 ] The anti-idealist will also see an expression of instinct in man's unhealthy turning away from his very own instincts. He knows that man himself can only accomplish what is contrary to instinct out of instinct. He will, however, fight against instinctive abnormality, just as a doctor fights against an illness, even though he knows that it has naturally arisen from certain causes. So the anti-idealist must not be accused of claiming that everything that man strives for, including all ideals, has arisen naturally; yet you are fighting idealism. Certainly ideals arise just as naturally as illnesses; but the healthy person fights idealism just as he fights illness. The idealist, however, sees ideals as something that must be cherished and nurtured.

[ 5 ] The belief that man only becomes perfect when he serves "higher" purposes is, in Nietzsche's opinion, something that must be overcome. Man must reflect on himself and realize that he has only created ideals in order to serve himself. Living according to nature is healthier than chasing after ideals that supposedly do not come from reality. The person who does not serve impersonal goals, but who seeks the purpose and meaning of his existence in himself, who makes such virtues his own that serve his development of strength, his perfection of power - Nietzsche places this person higher than the selfless idealist.

[ 6 ] This is what he proclaims through his "Zarathustra". For Nietzsche, the sovereign individual, who knows that he can only live out of his nature and who sees his personal goal in a way of life that corresponds to his nature, is the superhuman, in contrast to the person who believes that life has been given to him in order to serve a purpose outside of himself.

[ 7 ] Zarathustra teaches the superhuman, that is, the human being who knows how to live according to nature. He teaches people to regard their virtues as their creatures; he tells them to despise those who regard their virtues higher than themselves.

[ 8 ] Zarathustra has gone into solitude in order to free himself from the humility in which men bow before their virtues. He only walks among people again when he has learned to despise the virtues that subdue life and do not want to serve life. He now moves easily like a dancer, for he follows only himself and his will and pays no attention to the lines drawn for him by the virtues. The belief that it is wrong to follow only oneself no longer weighs heavily on his back. Zarathustra no longer sleeps in order to dream of ideals; he is a waking man who freely confronts reality. Man, who has lost himself and lies in the dust before his own creatures, is a dirty river to him. To him, the superman is a sea that absorbs this stream without becoming impure itself. For the superman has found himself; he recognizes himself as master and creator of his virtues. Zarathustra has experienced the great thing that all virtue has become disgusting to him, which is set above man.

[ 9 ] "What is the greatest thing you can experience? This is the hour of great contempt. The hour in which even your happiness becomes disgusting to you, as do your reason and your virtue."

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[ 10 ] The wisdom of Zarathustra is not to the liking of the "modern educated". They want to make all people equal. If everyone only strives for one goal, they say, then there is contentment and happiness on earth. People should, they demand, hold back their particular personal desires and only serve the common good, the common happiness. Peace and tranquillity will then reign on earth. If everyone has the same needs, then no one will disturb the circles of others. The individual should not have himself and his individual goals in mind, but everyone should live according to the template once it has been determined. All individual life should disappear and all should become members of the common world order.

[ 11 ] "No shepherd and one flock! Everyone wants the same, everyone is the same: whoever feels differently goes voluntarily to the madhouse.

[ 12 ] 'Once all the world was mad' - say the finest and wink.

[ 13 ] You are wise and know everything that has happened: so you have no end to mock. You still quarrel, but you soon make up; otherwise it spoils your stomach."

[ 14 ] Zarathustra has been a hermit too long to pay homage to such wisdom. He has heard the peculiar tones that sound from within the personality when man stands apart from the noise of the market, where one merely repeats the words of another. And he would like to call it into people's ears: listen to the voices that sound only in each one of you. For they are only natural, they only tell everyone what they are capable of. An enemy of life, of rich, full life, is the one who lets these voices go unheard and listens to the common cry of mankind. Zarathustra does not want to speak to the friends of the equality of all people. They could only misunderstand him. For they would believe that his superman is the ideal model to which all should become equal. But Zarathustra does not want to tell people how they should be; he only wants to refer each individual to himself and tell him: leave yourself to yourself, follow yourself alone, place yourself above virtue, wisdom and knowledge. Zarathustra speaks to those who want to seek themselves; not to a crowd seeking a common goal, but to those companions who, like him, go their own way. They alone understand him, for they know that he does not want to say: see, this is the superman, become like him, but: see, I have sought me; this is how I am, as I teach you; go and seek yourselves likewise, then you will have the superman.

[ 15 ] "I will sing my song to the hermits and to the two-settlers; and to those who still have ears for the unheard, I will make their hearts heavy with my happiness."

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[ 16 ] Two animals: the snake, as the cleverest, and the eagle, as the proudest, accompany Zarathustra. They are the symbols of his instincts. Zarathustra values wisdom because it teaches man to find the winding paths of reality; it teaches him what he needs to live. And Zarathustra also loves pride, for pride brings forth man's self-respect, through which he comes to regard himself as the meaning and purpose of his existence. The proud man does not place his wisdom, his virtue, above himself. Pride prevents people from forgetting themselves above "higher, holier" goals. Zarathustra would rather lose wisdom than pride. For wisdom that is not accompanied by pride does not see itself as the work of man. Those who lack pride and self-respect believe that their wisdom is a gift from heaven. Such a one says: man is a fool, and he has only as much wisdom as heaven wants to give him.

[ 17 ] "And if one day my wisdom leaves me: alas, it loves to fly away! - may my pride then still fly with my folly!"

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[ 18 ] The human spirit must undergo three transformations until it has found itself. This is what Zarathustra teaches. The spirit is reverent first. It calls virtue what weighs on it. He humbles himself in order to elevate his virtue. He says: all wisdom is with God, and God's ways I must follow. God lays the heaviest things upon me to test my strength, to see whether it is strong and patient. Only the patient is strong. I want to obey, says the spirit at this stage, and carry out the commandments of the world spirit without asking what the meaning of these commandments is. The spirit feels the pressure exerted on it by a higher power. The spirit does not go its own ways, but the ways of the one it serves. The time comes when the spirit realizes that no God speaks to it. Then it wants to be free and master in its own world. He searches for a guideline for his destiny. He no longer asks the spirit of the world how he should organize his life. But he strives for a firm law, a holy "thou shalt". He is looking for a yardstick to measure the value of things; he is looking for a sign to distinguish between good and evil. There must be a rule for my life that does not depend on me, on my will, says the spirit at this stage. I want to submit to this rule. I am free, says the spirit, but only free to obey such a rule.

[ 19 ] The spirit also overcomes this stage. It becomes like the child who does not ask in his play: how should I do this or that, but who only carries out his will, who only follows himself. "His will now wants the spirit, his world wins the world-lost one for himself.

[ 20 ] I told you three transformations of the spirit: how the spirit became a camel, and the camel became a lion, and the lion finally became a child. - Thus spoke Zarathustra."

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[ 21 ] What do the wise who place virtue above man want? asks Zarathustra. They say: only those who have done their duty, who have followed the holy "thou shalt" can have peace of mind. A person should be virtuous so that he can dream of fulfilled ideals after his duty is done and not feel remorse. The virtuous say that a person with remorse is like a sleeper whose night's rest is disturbed by bad dreams.

[ 22 ] "Few know this: but one must have all the virtues in order to sleep well. Will I bear false witness? Will I commit adultery?

[ 23 ] Will I lust after my neighbor's maid? All this is not compatible with a good night's sleep ...

[ 24 ] Peace with God and your neighbor: that's what good sleep wants And peace with your neighbor's devil, too! Otherwise he will kill you at night."

[ 25 ] The virtuous man does not do what his impulse calls him to do, but what brings about peace of mind. He lives to be able to dream about life in peace. He prefers it even more when his sleep, which he calls peace of mind, is not disturbed by dreams. In other words, the virtuous man prefers it when he receives the rules for his actions from somewhere and can otherwise enjoy his peace of mind. "His wisdom is to wake in order to sleep well. And truly, if life had no meaning and I had to choose nonsense, this would also be the most worthy nonsense for me to choose," says Zarathustra.

[ 26 ] There was also a time for Zarathustra when he believed that a spirit living outside the world, a god, had created the world. Zarathustra thought of a dissatisfied, suffering God. Zarathustra once thought that God had created the world to give himself satisfaction, to get away from his suffering. But he came to realize that it was a delusion that he had created for himself. "Ah, brothers, this God I created was the work and madness of man, like all the gods!" Zarathustra learned to use his senses and observe the world. And he became satisfied with the world; his thoughts no longer wandered into the hereafter. He was once blind and could not see the world, so he sought his salvation outside the world. But Zarathustra learned to see and recognize that the world had its meaning in itself.

[ 27 ] "My ego taught me a new pride, which I teach people: no longer to bury my head in the sand of heavenly things, but to carry it freely, an earthly head that creates meaning for the earth!"

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[ 28 ] The idealists have divided man into body and soul, they have divided all existence into idea and reality. And they have made the soul, the spirit, the idea into something particularly valuable in order to be able to despise reality, the body, all the more. But Zarathustra says: There is only one reality, only one body, and the soul is only something in the body, the idea only something in reality. One unity are the body and soul of man; body and spirit spring from one root. The spirit is only there because there is a body that has the power to develop the spirit in itself. Like the plant itself develops the flower, the body itself develops the spirit.

[ 29 ] "Behind your thoughts and feelings, my brother, there is a powerful master, an unknown sage called Self. He dwells in your body, he is your body."

[ 30 ] He who has a sense for the real seeks the spirit, the soul in and of the real, he seeks reason in the real; only he who regards reality as spiritless, as "merely natural", as "crude", gives the spirit, the soul a special existence. He makes reality the mere dwelling place of the spirit. But such a person also lacks the sense for the perception of the spirit itself. It is only because he does not see the spirit in reality that he looks for it elsewhere.

[ 31 ] "There is more reason in your body than in your best wisdom...

[ 32 ] The body is one great reason, a multiplicity with one mind, one war and one peace, one flock and one shepherd.

[ 33 ] The tool of your body is also your small reason, my brother, which you call 'spirit', a small tool and toy of your great reason."

[ 34 ] A fool is he who tears the blossom from the plant and believes that the torn blossom will now develop into fruit. He is also a fool who separates the spirit from nature and believes that such a separated spirit can still create.

[ 35 ] People with sick instincts have made the separation of mind and body. Only a sick instinct can say: my kingdom is not of this world. A healthy instinct's realm is only this world.

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[ 36 ] What ideals they have created, these despisers of reality! Let's take a look at them, the ideals of the ascetics who say: turn your gaze away from this world and look to the hereafter! What do ascetic ideals mean? With this question and the suppositions with which he answers it, Nietzsche has given us the deepest insight into his heart, which is unsatisfied by modern Western culture. ("Genealogy of Morals", 3rd treatise.)

[ 37 ] If an artist, such as Richard Wagner, in the last period of his creative work, becomes a follower of the ascetic ideal, this does not mean much. Throughout his life, the artist stands above his creations. He looks down on his realities from above. He creates realities that are not his reality. "A Homer would not have written an Achilles, a Goethe a Faust, if Homer had been an Achilles, and if Goethe had been a Faust." ("Genealogy", 3rd treatise, § 4.) If such an artist takes his own existence seriously, wants to translate himself and his personal views into reality, it is no wonder that something very unreal emerges. Richard Wagner completely changed his mind about his art when he became aware of Schopenhauer's philosophy. Previously, he considered music to be a means of expression that needed something to give it expression, the drama. In his pamphlet "Opera and Drama", written in 183 1, he states that the greatest error one can make with regard to opera is "that a means of expression (music) was made the end, but the end of expression (drama) was made the means."

[ 38 ] He professed a different view after becoming acquainted with Schopenhauer's doctrine of music. Schopenhauer is of the opinion that the essence of things itself speaks to us through music. The eternal will, which lives in all things, is embodied in all other arts only in its images, in the ideas; music is not a mere image of the will: in it the will reveals itself immediately. Schopenhauer believes he can hear directly in the sounds of music what appears to us in all our ideas only as a reflection: the eternal ground of all being, the will. For Schopenhauer, music brings news from the beyond. This view had an effect on Richard Wagner. He no longer regarded music as a means of expressing real human passions, as they are embodied in drama, but as "a kind of mouthpiece of the 'self' of things, a telephone of the beyond". Richard Wagner now no longer believed that he could express reality in sound; "he no longer spoke only music, this ventriloquist of God, - he spoke metaphysics: what wonder that one day he finally spoke ascetic ideals?..." ("Genealogy", 3rd treatise, § 5.)

[ 39 ] If Richard Wagner had merely changed his view of the meaning of music, Nietzsche would have no reason to accuse him of anything. Nietzsche could then at most say: Wagner created all kinds of wrong theories about art in addition to his works of art. But the fact that Wagner also embodied Schopenhauer's belief in the afterlife in his works of art in the last period of his creative work, that he used his music to glorify the escape from reality: that went against Nietzsche's taste.

[ 40 ] But the "Wagner case" says nothing when it comes to the meaning of glorifying the hereafter at the expense of this world, when it comes to the meaning of ascetic ideals. Artists do not stand on their own two feet. Just as Richard Wagner is dependent on Schopenhauer, artists have "at all times been the valets of a morality or philosophy or religion".

[ 41 ] It is different when philosophers advocate contempt for reality, for ascetic ideals. They do this out of a deep instinct.

[ 42] Schopenhauer betrayed this instinct in the description he gives of the creation and enjoyment of a work of art. "That the work of art thus facilitates so much the conception of ideas, in which aesthetic pleasure consists, is due not merely to the fact that art, by emphasizing the essential and separating out the inessential, represents things more clearly and characteristically, but just as much to the fact that the complete silence of the will required for the purely objective conception of the essence of things is most surely achieved by the fact that the object looked at does not itself lie in the realm of things that are capable of a relation to the will." ("Supplements to Book 3 of 'The World as Will and Representation'", ch. 30. ) "But when an external occasion or an inner mood suddenly lifts us out of the endless stream of volition, snatches cognition from the slave service of the will, attention is now no longer directed to the motives of volition, but grasps things free from their relation to the will, thus without interest, without subjectivity, purely objectively contemplating them, completely devoted to them, insofar as they are mere representations, not insofar as they are motives: then is . ... the painless state, which Epicuros praised as the highest good and as the state of the gods, has occurred: for that moment we are rid of the vile urge of will, we celebrate the sabbath of the penal labor of the will, the wheel of Ixion stands still." ("World as Will and Imagination", § 38.)

[ 43 ] This is a description of a kind of aesthetic pleasure that only occurs in the philosopher. Nietzsche contrasts it with another description "made by a real spectator and artist -Stendhal", who calls the beautiful "une promesse de bonheur". Schopenhauer wants to eliminate all interest of the will, all real life, when it comes to contemplating a work of art and only enjoy it with the spirit; Stendhal sees in the work of art a promise of happiness, i.e. a reference to life, and sees the value of art in this connection between art and life.

[ 44 ] Kant demands of the beautiful work of art that it pleases without interest, that is, that it lifts us out of real life and grants us a purely spiritual pleasure.

[ 45 ] What does the philosopher seek in artistic pleasure? Relief from reality. The philosopher wants to be transported into a mood alien to reality by the work of art. He thereby betrays his basic instinct. The philosopher feels most at ease in those moments when he can get away from reality. His view of aesthetic pleasure shows that he does not love reality.

[ 46 ] The philosophers do not tell us in their theories what the spectator who is turned towards life demands of the work of art, but only what is appropriate to themselves. And for the philosopher, turning away from life is very beneficial. He does not want to let reality interfere with his convoluted paths of thought. Thinking thrives better when the philosopher turns away from life. It is no wonder, then, that this basic philosophical instinct becomes downright hostile to life. We find such a mood in the majority of philosophers. And it stands to reason that the philosopher develops his own antipathy towards life into a doctrine and demands that all people profess such a doctrine. Schopenhauer did this. He found that the noise of the world disturbed his thinking. He felt that the best way to think about reality was to escape from it. At the same time, he forgot that all thinking about reality only has value if it arises from this reality. He did not take into account that the philosopher's withdrawal from reality can only happen so that the philosophical thoughts that arise at a distance from life can then serve life all the better. If the philosopher wants to impose the basic instinct, which is only beneficial to him as a philosopher, on the whole of humanity, then he becomes an enemy of life.

[ 47 ] The philosopher who regards flight from the world not as a means to create environmentally friendly thoughts, but as an end, as a goal, can only create worthless things. The true philosopher flees reality on the one hand only to bore himself all the deeper into it on the other. But it is understandable that this basic instinct can easily seduce the philosopher into considering the flight from the world as such to be valuable. The philosopher then becomes an advocate of world denial. He teaches renunciation of life, the ascetic ideal. He finds: "A certain asceticism... a hard and cheerful renunciation of the best will is one of the favorable conditions of the highest spirituality, and at the same time one of its most natural consequences: so it is not surprising from the outset that the ascetic ideal has never been treated by philosophers without some bias." ("Genealogy of Morals", 3rd treatise, § 9.)

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[ 48 ] The ascetic ideals of the priests have a different origin. What arises in the philosopher through the overgrowth of an instinct that is justified in him forms the basic ideal of the great danger that threatens the healthy, the strong, the self-confident from the unhealthy, the downcast, the broken. The latter hate the healthy and the physically and spiritually priestly work. The priest sees an error in man's devotion to real life; he demands that this life be disregarded in comparison to another life that is guided by higher than merely natural forces. The priest denies that real life has a meaning in itself, and he demands that this meaning be given to it through the implantation of a higher will. He sees life in temporality as imperfect and contrasts it with an eternal, perfect life. The priest teaches turning away from temporality and entering into the eternal, immutable. I would like to cite a few sentences from the famous 14th century book "The German Theology" as particularly characteristic of the priestly way of thinking, of which Luther says that he learned more about God, Christ and man from no book, with the exception of the Bible and St. Augustine, than from this one. Schopenhauer also finds that the spirit of Christianity is perfectly and powerfully expressed in this book. After the author, who is unknown to us, has explained that all things in the world are only imperfect and divided compared to the perfect, "which has comprehended and determined all beings in itself and in its essence, and without which and apart from which there is no true being and in which all things have their essence", he explains that man can only penetrate this essence if he has "lost all creatureliness, creatureliness, ego, selfhood and the like" and has brought them to nothing in himself. What has flowed out from the perfect and what man recognizes as his real world is characterized as follows: "This is not a true being and has no being other than in the perfect, but it is an accident or a radiance and an appearance that is no being or has no being other than in the fire where the radiance flows out, or in the sun, or in a light. -Scripture and faith and truth say that sin is nothing other than that the creature turns away from the unchangeable good and turns to the changeable, that is, that it turns from the perfect to the divided and imperfect, and most of all to itself. Now notice. When the creature assumes something good, as being, life, knowledge, cognition, faculty, and lately all that is to be called good, and thinks that it is that, or that it is hers, or that it belongs to her, or that it is of her: as often and as much as this happens, she turns away. (1) What did the devil do differently, or what was his fall and turning away different, but that he assumed that he was also something and that something was his and that something also belonged to him*? This assumption and his I and his me, his me and his mine, that was his turning away and his fall. So it still is... For all that is considered good or should be called good belongs to no one, but to the eternal true good, which is God alone, and whoever accepts it does wrong and against God." (i., 2nd, 4th chap. of "Deutsch. Theol.", 3rd ed., translated by Pfeiffer.)

[ 49 ] These sentences express the attitude of every priest. They express the actual character of priesthood. And this character is the opposite of that which Nietzsche describes as the superior, the worthy of life. The superior type of man wants to be everything that he is only through himself; he wants everything that he considers good and calls good to belong to no one but himself.

[ 50 ] But that inferior disposition is not an exceptional case. "It is one of the broadest and longest facts in existence. Read from a distant star, the majuscule script of our earthly existence would perhaps lead to the conclusion that the earth is the actual ascetic star, a corner of discontented, haughty and adverse creatures who cannot rid themselves of a deep displeasure with themselves, with the earth, with all life." ("Genealogy of Morals", 3rd treatise, § 11.) The ascetic priest is a necessity because the majority of people suffer from an "inhibition and fatigue" of the vital forces, because they suffer from reality. The ascetic priest is the comforter and physician of those who suffer from life. He comforts them by telling them: this life you are suffering from is not the true life; the true life is much easier to reach for those who suffer from this life than for the healthy who cling to this life and devote themselves to it. Through such sayings, the priest breeds contempt, the slander of this real life. He finally produces the attitude that says: in order to attain true life, this real life must be denied. The ascetic priest seeks his strength in spreading this attitude. By cultivating this attitude, he eliminates happy people who take their strength from nature. The priest seeks to suppress this hatred, which should be expressed by the weak waging a constant war of destruction against the strong. He therefore portrays the strong as those who lead a worthless, degrading life and claims that true life is only attainable for those who are harmed by life on earth. "The ascetic priest must be seen as the predestined savior, shepherd and advocate of the sick flock: only then can we understand his immense historical mission. The rule over the suffering is his realm, his instinct directs him to it, in it he has his own art, his mastery, his kind of happiness." ("Genealogy", 3rd treatise, § 15.) It is no wonder that such a way of thinking finally leads its followers not only to despise life, but to work towards its destruction. If people are told that only the suffering, the weak can really attain a higher life, then suffering, weakness will finally be searched. To inflict pain on oneself, to kill the will in oneself completely, that becomes the goal of lust for the one who strives for actual holiness; Throwing away all property, abandoning every dwelling place, all relatives, deep, complete solitude, spent in silent contemplation, with voluntary penance and terrible, slow self-torture, to the complete mortification of the will, which ultimately leads to voluntary death through hunger, also by going to meet the crocodiles, by falling from the sacred rocky summit in the Himalayas, by being buried alive, also by being thrown under the wheels of the immense chariot that drives the images of the gods around amidst the singing, cheering and dancing of the bayaders", these are the last fruits of the ascetic attitude. (Schopenhauer, "World as Will and Representation", § 68.)

[ 51 ] This way of thinking has sprung from the suffering of life, and it directs its weapons against life. If the healthy, joyful person is infected by it, then it wipes out the healthy, strong instincts in him. Nietzsche's work culminates in asserting something else in opposition to this doctrine, a view for the healthy, the well-adjusted. Let the degenerate, the depraved seek their salvation in the teachings of the ascetic priests; Nietzsche wants to gather the healthy around him and tell them an opinion that is better suited to them than any ideal that is hostile to life.

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[ 52 ] The ascetic ideal is still to be found even in the cultivators of modern science. This science boasts that it has thrown all old beliefs overboard and only adheres to reality. It does not want to accept anything that cannot be counted, calculated, weighed, seen and grasped. Modern scholars are indifferent to the fact that, in this way, "existence is degraded to an arithmetic exercise and couch potato for mathematicians". ("Fröhliche Wissenschaft", § 373.) Such a scholar does not ascribe to himself the right to interpret the events of the world that pass before his senses and his reason, so that he can control them with his thinking. He says: the truth must be independent of my art of interpretation, and I do not have to create the truth, but I must allow it to be dictated to me by the phenomena of the world.

[ 53 ] What this modern science ultimately arrives at when it abstains from all interpretation of world phenomena was expressed by a follower of this science (Richard Wahle) in a recently published book ("Das Ganze der Philosophie und ihr Ende"): "What could the mind, which, peering into the world and rolling around in itself the questions about the nature and purpose of events, finally find as an answer? It happened to him that, as he stood there so seemingly in opposition to the surrounding world, he dissolved and merged with all events in a flight of occurrences. He no longer 'knew' the world; he said, I am not sure that knowers are there, but occurrences are there per se. Of course, they come in such a way that the concept of knowledge could arise prematurely, unjustifiably. And 'concepts' flitted up to shed light on the occurrences, but they were will-o'-the-wisps, souls of desires for knowledge, pathetic, in their evidence meaningless postulates of an unfulfilled form of knowledge. Unknown factors must alternate. Darkness was spread over their nature. Occurrences are the veil of the true."

[ 54 ] Modern scholars do not think that the human personality can put meaning into the occurrences of reality and supplement the unknown factors that prevail in the alternation of events by its own ability. They do not want to interpret the flight of phenomena through the ideas that come from their personality. They merely want to observe and describe the phenomena, but not interpret them. They want to remain with the facts and not allow the creative imagination to form a self-structured picture of reality.

[ 55 ] When an imaginative natural scientist, such as Ernst Haeckel, creates an overall picture of the development of organic life on earth from the results of individual observations, these fanatics of factuality attack him and accuse him of sinning against the truth. They cannot see the pictures he draws of life in nature with their eyes or grasp them with their hands. They prefer impersonal judgment to judgment colored by the spirit of personality. They would prefer to eliminate personality altogether in their observations.

[ 56 ] It is the ascetic ideal that dominates the fanatics of factuality. They want a truth beyond personal, individual judgment. What man can "fantasize" into things does not concern them; the "truth" is something absolutely perfect to them, a god; man should discover it, surrender to it, but not create it. Naturalists and historians are currently animated by the same spirit of ascetic ideals. Everywhere enumerating, describing facts, and nothing more. Any attribution of facts is frowned upon. All personal judgment should be avoided.

[ 57 ] Among these modern scholars there are also atheists. However, these atheists are no freer spirits than their contemporaries who believe in God. The existence of God cannot be proven with the means of modern science. As one of the luminaries of modern science (Du Bois-Reymond) said about the assumption of a "world soul": before the natural scientist decides to make such an assumption, he demands "that somewhere in the world, bedded in neuroglia and fed with warm arterial blood under proper pressure, he be shown a convolute of ganglion balls and nerve fibers corresponding in size to the spiritual capacity of such a soul" ("Grenzen des Naturerkennens"). Modern science rejects belief in God because this belief cannot exist alongside belief in "objective truth". However, this "objective truth" is nothing other than a new God who has triumphed over the old one. "The unconditional honest atheism (- and its air alone we breathe, we more spiritual people of this age! ) is therefore not in opposition to that [ascetic] ideal, as it appears; it is rather only one of its last phases of development, one of its final forms and inner conclusions, - it is the awe-inspiring catastrophe of two thousand years of cultivation towards the truth, which in the end forbids itself the lie in the belief in God." ("Genealogy", 3rd treatise, § 27.) The Christian seeks the truth in God because he considers God to be the source of all truth; the modern atheist rejects belief in God because his God, his ideal of truth, forbids him this belief. The modern spirit sees in God a human creation; in "truth" he sees something that exists by itself without any human intervention. The truly "free spirit" goes even further. It asks: "What does all will to truth mean?" Why truth? All truth arises from the fact that man thinks about the phenomena of the world, forms thoughts about things. Man himself is the creator of truth. The "free spirit" becomes aware of its creation of truth. He no longer regards truth as something to which he is subordinate; he regards it as his creature.

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[ 58 ] People endowed with weak, misguided cognitive instincts do not dare to use the concept-forming power of their personality to make sense of world phenomena. They want the "laws of nature" to appear before their senses as facts. A subjective view of the world formed in accordance with the human mind seems worthless to them. But the mere observation of events in the world only provides us with an incoherent and yet not in detail separate world view. To the mere observer of things, no object, no event appears more important, more meaningful than the other. The rudimentary organ of an organism, which perhaps, when we have thought about it, appears without any significance for the development of life, stands there with just the same claim to attention as the noblest part of the organism, as long as we merely look at the objective facts. Cause and effect are successive phenomena that flow into one another without being separated by anything as long as we mere observe them. Only when we begin to think and relate the phenomena that flow into one another to one another in our minds does a lawful connection become visible. Only thinking explains one phenomenon as the cause and the other as the effect. We see a raindrop falling on the ground and causing a depression. A being that cannot think will not see cause and effect here, but only a succession of phenomena. A thinking being isolates the phenomena, brings the isolated facts into a relationship and designates one fact as the cause and the other as the effect. Observation stimulates the intellect to produce thoughts and to merge these with the observed facts into a thoughtful picture of the world. Man does this because he wants to master the sum of his observations mentally. An emptiness of thought that confronts him presses down on him like an unknown force. He resists this power, overcomes it by making it conceivable. All counting, weighing and calculating of phenomena happens for the same reason. It is the will to power that lives itself out in the cognitive drive. (I have described the process of cognition in detail in my two writings: "Truth and Science" and "The Philosophy of Freedom").

[ 59 ] The dull, weak intellect does not want to admit to itself that it is itself that interprets the phenomena as an expression of its striving for power. It also considers its interpretation to be a fact. And it asks: how does man come to find such a fact in reality? He asks, for example: how is it that the intellect recognizes cause and effect in two successive phenomena? All epistemologists from Locke, Hume and Kant to the present day have dealt with this question. The sophistry they have devoted to this investigation has remained unfruitful. The explanation is given in the striving of the human intellect for power. The question is not at all: are judgments, thoughts about phenomena possible, but: does the human intellect need such judgments? Because it needs them, that is why it applies them, and not because they are possible. It is a matter of "understanding that for the purpose of preserving beings of our species such judgments must be believed to be true; which is why they could of course still be false judgments!" ("Beyond Good and Evil", § II.) "And we are generally inclined to maintain that the most false judgments... are the most indispensable to us, that without allowing logical fictions to prevail, without measuring reality against the purely invented world of the unconditional, self-same, without a constant falsification of the world by number, man could not live, - that to renounce false judgments would be to renounce life, a negation of life." (Ibid., § 4.) If this statement seems paradoxical to you, consider how fruitful the application of geometry to reality is, although nowhere in the world are there really geometrically regular lines, surfaces and so on.

[ 60 ] When the dull, weak intellect realizes that all judgments about things come from itself, are produced by it and fused with observations, then it does not have the courage to apply these judgments without reserve. He says: judgments of this kind cannot give us any knowledge of the "true essence" of things. This "true essence" therefore remains closed to our knowledge.

[ 61 ] In yet another way, the weak intellect seeks to prove that nothing fixed can be gained through human cognition. He says: Man sees, hears, feels things and processes. What he perceives are impressions on his sensory organs. When he perceives a color, a sound, he can only say: my eye, my ear are determined in a certain way to perceive color, sound. Man does not perceive something outside himself, but only a determination, a modification of his own organs. In perception, the eye, the ear and so on are caused to feel in a certain way; they are put into a certain state. Man perceives these states of his own organs as colors, sounds, smells and so on. In all perception, man only perceives his own states. What he calls the outside world is only composed of these states; it is therefore in the true sense his work. He does not know the things that cause him to spin the outside world out of himself; only their effects on his organs. The world appears in this illumination like a dream dreamed by man, which is prompted by something unknown.

[ 62 ] If this thought is taken to its logical conclusion, it leads to the following postscript. Man also only knows his organs insofar as he perceives them; they are members of his perceptual world. And man only becomes aware of his own self insofar as he spins the images of the world out of himself. He perceives dream images and, in the midst of these dream images, an "I" that these dream images pass by. Every dream image appears in the company of this "I". You could also say that every dream image always appears in the midst of the dream world in relation to this "I". This "I" clings to the dream images as a destiny, as a quality. It is thus, as a determination of dream images, itself a dreamlike quality. J. G. Fichte summarizes this view in the words: "What arises through knowledge and from knowledge is only knowledge. All knowledge, however, is only an image, and something is always required in it that corresponds to the image. This demand cannot be satisfied by any knowledge; and a system of knowledge is necessary, a system of mere images, without all reality, meaning and purpose." For Fichte, "all reality" is a wonderful "dream, without a life to dream of, and without a spirit to dream for"; a dream "which is connected in a dream of itself". ("Destiny of Man", 2nd book.)

[ 63 ] What is the meaning of this whole chain of thought? A weak intellect that does not want to undertake to give meaning to the world out of itself seeks this meaning in the world of observations. Of course, it cannot find it there because mere observation is devoid of thought.

[ 64 ] The strong, productive intellect uses its conceptual world to interpret the observations; the weak, unproductive intellect declares itself too impotent to do so and says: I cannot find any meaning in the phenomena of ~; they are mere images that pass me by. The meaning of existence must be sought outside, beyond the world of appearances. As a result, the world of appearances, i.e. human reality, is declared to be a dream, an illusion, a nothing and the "true essence" of the appearances is sought in a "thing in itself", up to which no observation, no cognition reaches, i.e. of which the cognizer cannot form any idea. This "true essence" is therefore a completely empty thought for the cognizer, the thought of a nothing. For those philosophers who speak of the "thing in itself", dream is the world of appearances. But nothing is what they regard as the "true essence" of this phenomenal world. The entire philosophical movement that speaks of the "thing in itself" and which in more recent times is based on Kant in particular, is the belief in nothing, is philosophical nihilism.

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[ 65 ] When the strong spirit searches for the cause of human action and accomplishment, it always finds it in the will to power of the individual personality. However, the person with a weak, discouraged intellect does not want to admit this. He does not feel strong enough to make himself the master and director of his actions. He interprets the instincts that guide him as commands from a foreign power. He does not say: I act as I will; but he says: I act according to a commandment, as I should. He does not want to command himself, he wants to obey. At one stage of development, people see their impulses to act as commands from God; at another stage, they believe they hear a voice within themselves that commands them. In the latter case they do not dare to say: it is I myself who command; they claim: a higher will speaks in me. That his conscience tells him in each individual case how he should act is the opinion of one person; that a categorical imperative commands him is asserted by another. Let us listen to what J. G. Fichte says: "Something ought to happen simply because it should happen: that which conscience now demands of me ... that it should happen, for that, for that alone am I there; to recognize it, I have understanding: to accomplish it, strength." ("The Destiny of Man", Book 3.) I prefer to cite J. G. Fichte's sayings because he thought the opinion of the "weak and misguided" through to the end with iron consistency. What these opinions ultimately lead to can only be recognized if one seeks them out where they have been thought through to the end; one cannot rely on those who think every thought only to its center.

[ 66 ] The source of knowledge is not sought in the individual personality by those who think in the manner indicated; but beyond this personality in a "will in itself". This "will in itself" is supposed to speak to the individual as the "voice of God" or "the voice of conscience", the "categorical imperative" and so on. It should be the universal guide of human action and the source of morality and also determine the purposes of moral action. "I say that it is the commandment of action itself which by itself sets me a purpose: the same thing in me which compels me to think that I should act in this way compels me to believe that something will come of this action; it opens to the eye the prospect of another world." "As I live in obedience, I live at the same time in the contemplation of its purpose, I live in the better world which it promises to me." (Fichte, "The Destiny of Man", Book 3.) The person who thinks in this way does not want to set his own goal; he wants to be led to a goal by the higher will that he obeys. He wants to get rid of his own will and make himself the instrument of "higher" purposes. In words that are among the most beautiful products of the sense of obedience and humility known to me, Fichte describes the surrender to the "eternal will in itself". "Sublime, living will, which no name names and no concept encompasses, I may well raise my mind to you; for you and I are not separate. Your voice resounds in me, mine resounds in you; and all my thoughts, if only they are true and good, are thought in you. - In you, the incomprehensible, I become myself, and the world becomes completely comprehensible to me, all the riddles of my existence are solved, and the most perfect harmony arises in my spirit." "I cover my face before you and put my hand over my mouth. I can never understand how you are for yourself and how you appear to yourself, just as I can never become yourself. After a thousand times a thousand spirit lives lived through, I will understand you just as little as I do now, in this hut of earth." ("Destiny of Man", 3rd book.)

[ 67 ] Where this will ultimately wants to lead man, the individual cannot know. Anyone who believes in this will therefore admits that he knows nothing about the ultimate purpose of his actions. However, the goals that the individual creates for himself are not "true" goals for such a believer in a higher will. He thus replaces the positive individual goals created by the individual with a final goal for all mankind, the thought content of which is nothing. Such a believer is a moral nihilist. He is caught up in the worst kind of ignorance imaginable. Nietzsche wanted to deal with this kind of ignorance in a special book of his unfinished work "The Will to Power". (Cf. appendix to volume VIII of the complete edition of Nietzsche's works.)

[ 68 ] We find the praise of moral nihilism again in Fichte's "Determination of Man" (Book 3): "I will not attempt what is denied me by the nature of finitude, and what would be of no use to me; what you are like in yourself I do not want to know. But your relations and relationships to me, the finite, and to everything finite, lie open before my eyes: will I be what I ought to be! - and they surround me with brighter clarity than the awareness of my own existence. You work in me the knowledge of my duty, of my destiny in the line of rational beings; how I do not know, nor do I need to know. You know and recognize what I think and will; how you can know - by what act you bring about this consciousness, I understand nothing about it; indeed, I know very well that the concept of an act, and of a particular act of consciousness, applies only to me, but not to you, the Infinite. You will, for you want my free obedience to have consequences for all eternity; I do not understand the act of your will, and know only so much that it is not similar to mine. You do, and your will itself is act; but your mode of action is almost opposite to that which I alone am able to think. You live and are, for you know, will and work, omnipresent to finite reason; but you are not, as I alone will be able to think a being throughout all eternity."

[ 69 ] Nietzsche contrasts moral nihilism with the goals that the creative individual will sets itself. Zarathustra calls out to the teachers of surrender:

[ 70 ] "These teachers of surrender! Wherever it is small and sick and grindy, they crawl like lice; and only my disgust prevents me from cracking them. So long! This is my sermon for your ears: I am Zarathustra, the godless one, who says: 'Who is more godless than I that I should rejoice in his teaching? I am Zarathustra, the wicked: where can I find my equals? And all those are like me, who give their will to themselves and turn away all submission."

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[ 71 ] The strong personality that creates goals is ruthless in the realization of them. The weak personality, on the other hand, only carries out what the will of God or the "voice of conscience" or the "categorical imperative" says yes to. The weak person describes what corresponds to this yes as good, what is contrary to this yes as evil. The strong cannot acknowledge this "good and evil"; for he does not recognize the power by which the weak allows his good and evil to be determined. What he, the strong, wants is good for him; he carries it out against all opposing powers. What disturbs him in this execution, he seeks to overcome. He does not believe that an "eternal world will" directs all individual wills towards a great harmony; but he is of the opinion that all human development results from the will impulses of the individual personalities and that there is an eternal war between the individual expressions of will, in which the stronger will always triumphs over the weaker. The strong personality that wants to give itself law and purpose is called evil, sinful, by the weak and discouraged. It arouses fear because it breaks through the established order; it calls worthless what the weak are used to calling valuable, and it invents something new, unknown to it, which it calls valuable. "Every individual action, every individual way of thinking arouses horror; it is impossible to calculate what the rarer, more select, more original spirits must have suffered throughout history by always being perceived as evil and dangerous, indeed that they themselves felt that way. Under the rule of the morality of custom, originality of every kind has acquired an evil conscience; until this moment, the heaven of the best is even darker than it ought to be." ("Dawn", § 9.)

[ 72 ] The truly free spirit makes first decisions; the unfree one decides according to custom. "Morality is nothing else (i.e. namely nothing more!) than obedience to customs, whatever they may be; but customs are the conventional way of acting and judging." ("Dawn", § 9.) It is this convention that is interpreted by moralists as "eternal will", "categorical imperative". Every heredity, however, is the result of the natural instincts and impulses of individuals, entire tribes, peoples and so on. It is just as much the product of natural causes as, for example, the weather conditions of individual regions. The free spirit does not declare itself bound by this origin. It has its individual instincts and impulses, and these are no less justified than those of others. It transforms these impulses into actions, just as a cloud sends rain to the earth's surface when the causes are present. The free spirit stands beyond what tradition considers good and evil. It creates its own good and evil.

[ 73 ] "When I came to the people, I found them sitting on an old conceit: they all thought they had long known what was good and evil to man. All talk of virtue seemed to him an old tired thing; and those who wanted to sleep well still spoke of 'good' and 'evil' before going to bed. I broke up this sleepiness when I taught that no one knows what good and evil are - except the creator! - But that is he who creates man's goal and gives the earth its meaning and its future: only he creates it that something is good and evil." ("Zarathustra", part 3, "Of old and new tablets.")

[ 74 ] Even when the free spirit acts according to custom, it does so because it wants to make the conventional motives its own, and because in certain cases it does not consider it necessary to put something new in the place of the conventional.

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[ 75 ] The strong man seeks his purpose in life by asserting his creative self. This selfishness distinguishes him from the weak, who see morality in the selfless devotion to what they call the good. The weak preach selflessness as the highest virtue. However, their selflessness is only the result of their lack of creative power. If they had a creative self, they would want to enforce it. The strong love war, because they need war to enforce their creations against the opposing powers.

[ 76 ] "Your enemy you shall seek, your war you shall wage and for your thoughts! And if your thoughts are defeated, let your integrity shout triumph over them!

[ 77 ] You shall love peace as a means to new wars. And the short peace more than the long one.

[ 78 ] I do not advise you to work, but to fight. To you I do not advise peace, but victory. Let your work be a battle, let your peace be a victory! ...

[ 79 ] You say that it is the good cause that sanctifies even war? I tell you: it is the good war that sanctifies every cause.

[ 80 ] War and courage have done more great things than charity. It is not your compassion but your bravery that has so far saved those who have perished." ("Zarathustra", part 1. "Of war and the people of war.")

[ 81 ] The creative man acts relentlessly and without sparing the reluctant. He does not know the virtue of the suffering: compassion. The creative person's impulses come from his power, not from the feeling of another's suffering. He is committed to the victory of strength, not to the care of the suffering, the weak. Schopenhauer declared the whole world to be a hospital, and the actions arising from compassion for the suffering to be the highest virtues. He thus expressed the morality of Christianity in a different form than Christianity itself does. The creative person does not feel called to be a nurse. The capable and healthy cannot be there for the sake of the weak and sick. Pity weakens strength, courage and bravery.

[ 82 ] Compassion seeks to preserve precisely that which the strong want to overcome: weakness, suffering. The victory of the strong over the weak is the meaning of all human and natural development. "Life itself is essentially appropriation, violation, overpowering the alien and the weaker, oppression, harshness, imposition of one's own forms, incorporation and at the very least, at the mildest, exploitation." ("Beyond Good and Evil", § 259.)

[ 83 ] "And will you not be fates and implacable: how could you with me - prevail? And if your hardness does not want to flash and cut and slice: how could you once with me - create? For the creators are hard. And bliss it must seem to you to press your hand on millennia as on wax - bliss to write on the will of millennia as on ore - harder than ore, nobler than ore. Only the noblest is hardest. This new tablet, 0 my brothers, I place over you: be hard!" ("Zarathustra", part 3. "Of old and new tablets.")

[ 84 ] The free spirit makes no claim to pity. If you wanted to pity him, he would have to ask: do you think I am so weak that I cannot bear my suffering myself? For him, all pity goes against his shame. Nietzsche illustrates the strong man's aversion to compassion in the fourth part of his "Zarathustra". On his wanderings, Zarathustra comes to a valley called "snake death". There is no living creature to be found here. Only a kind of ugly green snake comes here to die. This valley has been visited by the "ugliest man". He does not want to be seen by any being because of his ugliness. No one sees him in this valley except God. But he cannot bear the sight of God either. The awareness that God's gaze penetrates every room is a burden to him. He has therefore killed God, that is, he has killed the belief in God within him. He has become an atheist because of his ugliness. When Zarathustra sees this man, he is once again overcome by what he believes he has eradicated from himself forever: compassion for the terrible ugliness. This is one of Zarathustra's temptations. However, he soon rejects the feeling of pity and becomes hard again. The ugliest man says to him: Your hardness honors my ugliness. I am too rich in ugliness to bear anyone's pity. Pity goes against shame.

[ 85 ] He who needs pity cannot stand alone, and the free spirit wants to be completely on its own.

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[ 86 ] The weak are not satisfied with the demonstration of the natural will to power as the cause of human actions. They do not merely search for natural connections in human development, but they seek the relationship of human actions to what they call the "will in itself", the "eternal, moral world order". They attribute guilt to anyone who acts contrary to this world order. And they are not content to evaluate an action according to its natural consequences, but claim that a guilty action also entails moral consequences, punishments. They call themselves guilty if they do not find their actions in accordance with the moral world order; they turn away from the source of evil within themselves with disgust and call this feeling evil conscience. The strong personality does not accept any of these concepts. It is only concerned with the natural consequences of its actions. It asks: how much is my behavior worth for life? Does it correspond to what I wanted? The strong person can feel sorry when an action fails, when the result does not correspond to his intentions. But he does not accuse himself. For he does not measure his actions against extra-natural standards. He knows that he is acting in accordance with his natural instincts and can only regret that they are not better. He feels the same way when judging the actions of others. He has no moral assessment of actions. He is an immoralist.

[ 87 ] What tradition describes as evil, the immoralist sees as an outflow of human instinct, just like good. For him, punishment is not morally conditioned, but merely a means of eradicating the instincts of certain people who are harmful to others. According to the immoralist, society does not punish because it has a "moral right" to atone for guilt, but solely because it proves to be stronger than the individual, who has instincts that are contrary to the whole. The power of society stands against the power of the individual. This is the natural connection between an "evil" act by an individual and the jurisdiction of society and the punishment of that individual. It is the will to power, i.e. to live out those instincts that are present in the majority of people, which expresses itself in the administration of justice in a society. The victory of a majority over an individual is every punishment. If the individual were victorious over society, his actions would have to be described as good and those of others as evil. The respective right only expresses what society recognizes as the best basis for its will to power.

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[ 88 ] Because Nietzsche sees in human behavior only an outflow of instincts, and these latter are different in different people, it seems necessary to him that their ways of acting are also different. Nietzsche is therefore a staunch opponent of the democratic principle: equal rights and equal duties for all. People are unequal, therefore their rights and duties must also be unequal. The natural course of world history will always show strong and weak, productive and unproductive people. And the strong will always be called upon to determine the goals of the weak. Even more: the strong will use the weak as a means to an end, i.e. as slaves. Of course, Nietzsche does not speak of a "moral" right of the strong to keep slaves. He does not recognize "moral" rights. Rather, he is of the opinion that the overcoming of the weaker by the stronger, which he considers to be the principle of all life, must necessarily lead to slavery.

[ 89 ] It is also natural that the conquered should rebel against the conqueror. If this rebellion cannot express itself through action, it at least expresses itself in feeling. And the expression of this feeling is revenge, which always dwells in the hearts of those who have been overcome in some way by the better-disposed. Nietzsche sees the modern social democratic movement as an outgrowth of this revenge. For him, the victory of this movement would be an exaltation of the misfits, of those who have gone astray to the detriment of the better. Nietzsche strives for precisely the opposite: the cultivation of the strong, autocratic personality. And he hates the addiction that wants to make everything the same and make sovereign individuality disappear in the sea of general mediocrity.

[ 90 ] Not everyone should have and enjoy the same thing, says Nietzsche, but everyone should have and enjoy what he can achieve according to his personal strength.

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[ 91 ] What man is worth depends solely on the value of his instincts. Nothing else can determine the value of man. One speaks of the value of work. Work is supposed to ennoble man. But work has no value in itself. It only acquires value through the fact that it serves man. Only insofar as work is a natural consequence of human inclinations is it worthy of man. He who makes himself the servant of work degrades himself. Only the man who cannot determine his own value seeks to measure this value by the greatness of his work. It is characteristic of the democratic bourgeoisie of modern times that it measures the value of people according to their work. Even Goethe is not free of this attitude. He allows his Faust to find complete satisfaction in the awareness of work done.

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[ 92 ] In Nietzsche's opinion, art also only has value if it serves the life of the individual. Here too, Nietzsche advocates the view of the strong personality and rejects everything that the weak instincts say about art. Almost all German aestheticians take the viewpoint of the weak instincts. Art should represent an "infinite" in the "finite", an "eternal" in the "temporal", an "idea" in "reality". For Schelling, for example, all sensual beauty is only a reflection of that infinite beauty that we can never perceive with our senses. The work of art is not beautiful for its own sake and through what it is, but because it depicts the idea of beauty. The sensual image is only a means of expression, only the form for a supersensible content. And Hegel calls the beautiful "the sensual appearance of the idea". Something similar can also be found among the other German aesthetes. For Nietzsche, art is an element that promotes life, and only when it is this is it justified. He who cannot bear life as he directly perceives it, reshapes it according to his needs and thus creates a work of art. And what does the enjoyer want from the work of art? He wants to increase his zest for life, strengthen his vital forces, satisfy needs that reality does not satisfy. But if his mind is focused on the real, he does not want to see through the work of art the reflection of the divine, the supernatural. Listen to how Nietzsche describes the impression Bizet's Carmen made on him: "I become a better person when this Bizet speaks to me. Also a better musician, a better listener. Is there any better way to listen? - I still bury my ears under this music, I hear its cause. It seems to me that I am experiencing its genesis - I tremble at the dangers that accompany any venture, I am delighted by strokes of luck in which Bizet is innocent. - And strangely enough, I don't actually think about it, or I don't know how much I think about it. Because completely different thoughts are running through my head... Has anyone noticed that music frees the mind? gives wings to thought? that the more you become a musician, the more of a philosopher you become? - The gray sky of abstraction as if flashed by lightning; the light strong enough for all the filigree of things; the great problems close enough to touch; the world as if seen from a mountain. - I have just defined philosophical pathos. - And suddenly answers fall into my lap, a small hail of ice and wisdom, of solved problems ... Where am I? - Bizet makes me fruitful. All good things make me fruitful. I have no other gratitude, I have no other evidence of what is good." - ("The Wagner Case", § 1.) Because Richard Wagner's music did not have such an effect on him, Nietzsche rejected it: "My objections to Wagner's music are physiological objections... My 'fact', my 'petit fait vrai' is that I no longer breathe easily when this music first affects me; that immediately my foot becomes evil against it and revolts: it has the need for beat, dance, march... it demands from music first of all the delights that lie in good walking, striding, dancing. But does not my stomach protest? my heart? my circulation? Do not my bowels grieve? Do I not suddenly become hoarse? And so I ask myself: what does my whole body actually want from music at all?... I believe its relief: as if all animal functions should be accelerated by light, bold, relaxed, self-assured rhythms; as if the brazen, leaden life should lose its heaviness through golden, tender, oil-like melodies. My melancholy wants to rest in the hiding places and abysses of perfection: for this I need music." ("Nietzsche contra Wagner". Ch.: "Where I make objections")-

[ 93 ] In the beginning of his career as a writer, Nietzsche was mistaken about what his instincts demanded of art, which is why he was a follower of Wagner at the time. He allowed himself to be seduced into idealism by studying Schopenhauer's philosophy. He believed in idealism for some time and deluded himself with artificial needs, ideal needs. It was only later in his life that he realized that all idealism was exactly the opposite of his drives. He now became more honest with himself. He expressed how he himself felt. And this could only lead to the complete rejection of Wagner's music, which increasingly took on the ascetic character that we have already listed as a characteristic of Wagner's final goal.

[ 94 ] The aestheticians, who make it the task of art to sensualize the idea of embodying the divine, hold a similar view in this area as the philosophical nihilists do in the area of knowledge and morality. They look for something otherworldly in the objects of art, but this dissolves into nothing before the sense of reality. There is also an aesthetic nihilism.

[ 95 ] This is contrasted with the aesthetics of the strong personality, which sees in art a reflection of reality, a higher reality that people prefer to enjoy rather than everyday life.

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[ 96 ] Nietzsche contrasts two types of people: the weak and the strong. The former seeks knowledge as an objective fact that should flow into his mind from the outside world. He allows his good and evil to be dictated by an "eternal will of the world" or a "categorical imperative". He describes every action that is not determined by this will of the world, but only by creative self-will, as a sin that must result in moral punishment. He wants to decree equal rights for all people and determine the value of man according to an external standard. Finally, he wants to see in art an image of the divine, a message from the hereafter. The strong, on the other hand, sees all knowledge as an expression of the will to power. Through knowledge, he seeks to make things conceivable and thereby subjugate them. He knows that he himself is the creator of truth; that no one but he himself can create his good and his evil. He regards man's actions as the consequences of natural instincts and accepts them as natural occurrences that are never to be regarded as sins and do not deserve moral condemnation. He seeks the value of man in the efficiency of his instincts. He values a person with the instincts for health, spirit, beauty, endurance and nobility more highly than one with the instincts for weakness, ugliness and slavery. He judges a work of art by the degree to which it contributes to the enhancement of his powers.

[ 97 ] Nietzsche understands this latter type of human being as his superman. Such supermen could previously only arise through the coincidence of chance circumstances. To make their development the conscious goal of humanity is the intention of Zarathustra. Until now, the goal of human development has been seen in some kind of ideals. Here Nietzsche considers a change of views necessary. The "higher type has often enough already been there: but as a stroke of luck, as an exception, never as wanted. Rather, he has just been feared the most, he has almost been the fearful; - and out of fear the opposite type was wanted, bred, achieved: the domestic animal, the herd animal, the sick animal man - the Christian ..." ("Antichrist", § 3.)

[ 98 ] Zarathustra's wisdom is to teach this superman, to whom that other type is only a transition.

[ 99 ] Nietzsche calls this wisdom a Dionysian wisdom. It is a wisdom that is not given to man from outside; it is a self-created wisdom. The Dionysian sage does not research; he creates. He does not stand as an observer outside the world he wants to recognize; he has become one with his knowledge. He does not search for a God; what he can still imagine as divine is only He Himself as the creator of his own world. When this state extends to all the powers of the human organism, it gives the Dionysian man, for whom it is impossible not to understand any suggestion; he overlooks no sign of affect, he has the highest degree of the understanding and guessing instinct, just as he possesses the highest degree of the art of communication. He enters into every skin, into every affect: he constantly transforms himself. The Dionysian sage is confronted by the mere observer, who always believes himself to be outside his objects of knowledge, as an objective, suffering spectator. Opposite the Dionysian man is the Apollinian, who "above all keeps the eye excited so that it acquires the power of vision". The Apollonian spirit strives for visions, images of things that are beyond human reality, not a wisdom created by itself.

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[ 100 ] The Apollonian wisdom has the character of seriousness. It perceives the dominion of the beyond, which it only possesses in image, as a heavy pressure, as a power that resists it. Apollonian wisdom is serious, for it believes itself to be in possession of a message from the beyond, even if it is only conveyed through images and visions. The Apollonian spirit walks along heavily laden with its knowledge, for it carries a burden that comes from another world. And it assumes the expression of dignity, for all laughter must fall silent before the manifestations of the infinite.

[ 101 ] This laughter, however, characterizes the Dionysian spirit. He knows that everything he calls wisdom is only his wisdom, invented by him to make life easy for himself. Only this one thing should be his wisdom: a means that allows him to say yes to life. The spirit of heaviness is repugnant to the Dionysian man because it does not make life easier but depresses it. Self-created wisdom is a cheerful wisdom, because those who create their own burden only create one that they can carry easily. With self-created wisdom, the Dionysian spirit moves easily through the world like a dancer.

[ 102] "But that I am good at wisdom and often too good: that makes, it reminds me very much of life!"

[ 103 ] She has her eye, her laugh and even her golden fishing rod: what can I do that the two look so much alike?"

[ 104 ] "I looked into your eye recently, O life: I saw gold flashing in your night eye - my heart stood still before this lust:

[ 105 ] -I saw a golden barge flashing on nocturnal waters, a sinking, drinking, again beckoning golden rocking barge!

[ 106 ] After my foot, the dance-loving one, you cast a glance, a laughing, questioning, melting rocking glance:

[ 107 ] Only twice you stirred your rattle with small hands - then my foot swayed with dancing rage

[ 108 ] My heels clenched, my toes listened to understand you: but the dancer carries his ear - in his toes!" ("Zarathustra", z. u. 3. part. "The Dance Songs.")

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[ 109 ] Because the Dionysian spirit takes from itself all the impulses of its actions and obeys no external power, it is a free spirit. For a free spirit is one that follows only its nature. However, Nietzsche's works only speak of instincts as the drives of the free spirit. I believe that here Nietzsche has summarized a series of drives with one name, which require a more detailed consideration. Nietzsche calls instincts both the instincts present in animals for nourishment and self-preservation, as well as the highest drives of human nature, for example the instinct of cognition, the instinct to act according to moral standards, the instinct to delight in works of art and so on. Admittedly, all these drives are manifestations of one and the same basic force. But they represent different stages in the development of this force. The moral impulses, for example, are a special stage of the instincts. Even if it can be admitted that they are only higher forms of sensual instincts, they nevertheless arise in man, who has this moral imagination is truly free, for man must act according to conscious instincts. And if he cannot produce them himself, then he must allow them to be given to him by external authorities or by the heredity that speaks in him in the form of the voice of conscience. A person who merely abandons himself to his sensual instincts acts like an animal; a person who subordinates his sensual instincts to other people's thoughts acts unfree; only the person who creates his own moral goals acts free. The moral imagination is missing in Nietzsche's explanations. Anyone who thinks his thoughts through to the end must necessarily come up with this concept. But on the other hand, it is also an absolute necessity that this concept is added to Nietzsche's world view. Otherwise it could always be objected to: It is true that the Dionysian human being is not a servant of convention or of the "will beyond", but he is a servant of his own instincts. a special kind into existence. This is shown by the fact that it is possible for man to perform actions that are not directly attributable to sensual instincts, but only to those drives that can be described as higher forms of instinct. Man creates drives for his actions that cannot be derived from his sensual instincts, but only from conscious thought. He sets himself individual purposes, but he sets them with consciousness. And there is a big difference between following an instinct that has arisen unconsciously and is only later incorporated into consciousness and following a thought that he has produced from the outset with full consciousness. If I eat because my food instinct urges me to, this is essentially different from solving a mathematical problem. The thinking apprehension of world phenomena represents a special form of the general faculty of perception. It differs from mere sensory perception. The higher forms of development of instinctual life are just as natural to man as the lower ones. If the two are not in harmony, he is condemned to lack of freedom. It may happen that a weak personality with perfectly healthy sensual instincts has only weak spiritual instincts. In this case he will develop his own individuality with regard to his sensory life, but he will borrow the mental impulses for his actions from his origins. A disharmony of both instincts can arise. The sensual drives urge to live out one's own personality, the mental drives are under the spell of an external authority. The spiritual life of such a personality is tyrannized by the sensual instincts, the sensual life by the spiritual instincts. For the two powers do not belong together, do not arise from one entity. A truly free personality therefore requires not only a healthily developed individual sensual instinctual life, but also the ability to create the mental impulses for life. Only that person is completely free who can also produce thoughts that lead to action. In my essay "The Philosophy of Freedom", I called the ability to create purely mental motivations for action the "moral imagination". Only those who

[ 110 ] Nietzsche focused his gaze on the original, the self-personal in man. He sought to detach this self-personality from the cloak of the impersonal, in which it was wrapped by a worldview hostile to reality. But he did not come to distinguish the stages of life within the personality itself. He therefore underestimated the importance of consciousness for the human personality. "Consciousness is the last and latest development of the organic and consequently also the most incomplete and inefficient part of it. Consciousness is the source of innumerable mistakes that cause an animal, a human being, to perish earlier than it should, 'through skill', as Homer says. If the sustaining association of instincts were not so much more powerful, it would not serve as a regulator on the whole: mankind would have to perish from their wrong judgments and fantasizing with open eyes, from their inscrutability and credulity, in short, from their consciousness," says Nietzsche. ("Joyful Science", § II.)

[ 111 ] This is certainly to be admitted; but it is no less true that man is only free to the extent that he can create mental driving forces for his actions within his consciousness.

[ 112 ] However, the consideration of mental driving forces goes even further. It is a fact of experience that these mental impulses, which people produce of their own accord, nevertheless show a certain degree of agreement among individuals. Even if the individual creates thoughts quite freely out of himself, these thoughts coincide to a certain extent with the thoughts of other people. From this it follows that the free man is justified in assuming that harmony in human society occurs of its own accord when it consists of sovereign individuals. He can contrast this opinion with the defender of unfreedom, who believes that the actions of a majority of people only coincide if they are directed towards a common goal by an external force. The free spirit is therefore by no means a supporter of the view that allows animal instincts to rule absolutely freely and therefore wants to abolish all legal orders. But it demands absolute freedom for those who do not merely want to follow their animal instincts, but who are able to create moral impulses, their own good and evil.

[ 113 ] Only those who have not penetrated Nietzsche to such an extent that they are able to draw the ultimate consequences of his worldview, even though Nietzsche did not draw them himself, can see in him a man who "with a certain stylistic voluptuousness has found the courage to reveal what may have lurked hitherto in the most secret souls of grandiose criminal types ... may have lurked hidden". (Ludwig Stein, "Friedrich Nietzsche's Weltanschauung und ihre Gefahren", p. 5.) The average education of a German professor is still not so far advanced as to separate the greatness of a personality from its minor errors. Otherwise one could not experience that the criticism of such a professor is directed precisely against these small errors. I think true education takes up the greatness of a personality and improves small errors or thinks half-finished thoughts to the end.