Reading Help Beyond good and evil
the super-abundance, the protection are there lacking under which `
` variations are fostered; the species needs itself as species, as `
` something which, precisely by virtue of its hardness, its `
` uniformity, and simplicity of structure, can in general prevail `
` and make itself permanent in constant struggle with its `
` neighbours, or with rebellious or rebellion-threatening vassals. `
` The most varied experience teaches it what are the qualities to `
` which it principally owes the fact that it still exists, in spite `
` of all Gods and men, and has hitherto been victorious: these `
` qualities it calls virtues, and these virtues alone it develops `
` to maturity. It does so with severity, indeed it desires `
` severity; every aristocratic morality is intolerant in the `
` education of youth, in the control of women, in the marriage `
` customs, in the relations of old and young, in the penal laws `
` (which have an eye only for the degenerating): it counts `
` intolerance itself among the virtues, under the name of `
` "justice." A type with few, but very marked features, a species `
` of severe, warlike, wisely silent, reserved, and reticent men `
` (and as such, with the most delicate sensibility for the charm `
` and nuances of society) is thus established, unaffected by the `
` vicissitudes of generations; the constant struggle with uniform `
` UNFAVOURABLE conditions is, as already remarked, the cause of a `
` type becoming stable and hard. Finally, however, a happy state of `
` things results, the enormous tension is relaxed; there are `
` perhaps no more enemies among the neighbouring peoples, and the `
` means of life, even of the enjoyment of life, are present in `
` superabundance. With one stroke the bond and constraint of the `
` old discipline severs: it is no longer regarded as necessary, as `
` a condition of existence--if it would continue, it can only do so `
` as a form of LUXURY, as an archaizing TASTE. Variations, whether `
` they be deviations (into the higher, finer, and rarer), or `
` deteriorations and monstrosities, appear suddenly on the scene in `
` the greatest exuberance and splendour; the individual dares to be `
` individual and detach himself. At this turning-point of history `
` there manifest themselves, side by side, and often mixed and `
` entangled together, a magnificent, manifold, virgin-forest-like `
` up-growth and up-striving, a kind of TROPICAL TEMPO in the `
` rivalry of growth, and an extraordinary decay and self- `
` destruction, owing to the savagely opposing and seemingly `
` exploding egoisms, which strive with one another "for sun and `
` light," and can no longer assign any limit, restraint, or `
` forbearance for themselves by means of the hitherto existing `
` morality. It was this morality itself which piled up the strength `
` so enormously, which bent the bow in so threatening a manner:--it `
` is now "out of date," it is getting "out of date." The dangerous `
` and disquieting point has been reached when the greater, more `
` manifold, more comprehensive life IS LIVED BEYOND the old `
` morality; the "individual" stands out, and is obliged to have `
` recourse to his own law-giving, his own arts and artifices for `
` self-preservation, self-elevation, and self-deliverance. Nothing `
` but new "Whys," nothing but new "Hows," no common formulas any `
` longer, misunderstanding and disregard in league with each other, `
` decay, deterioration, and the loftiest desires frightfully `
` entangled, the genius of the race overflowing from all the `
` cornucopias of good and bad, a portentous simultaneousness of `
` Spring and Autumn, full of new charms and mysteries peculiar to `
` the fresh, still inexhausted, still unwearied corruption. Danger `
` is again present, the mother of morality, great danger; this time `
` shifted into the individual, into the neighbour and friend, into `
` the street, into their own child, into their own heart, into all `
` the most personal and secret recesses of their desires and `
` volitions. What will the moral philosophers who appear at this `
` time have to preach? They discover, these sharp onlookers and `
` loafers, that the end is quickly approaching, that everything `
` around them decays and produces decay, that nothing will endure `
` until the day after tomorrow, except one species of man, the `
` incurably MEDIOCRE. The mediocre alone have a prospect of `
` continuing and propagating themselves--they will be the men of `
` the future, the sole survivors; "be like them! become mediocre!" `
` is now the only morality which has still a significance, which `
` still obtains a hearing.--But it is difficult to preach this `
` morality of mediocrity! it can never avow what it is and what it `
` desires! it has to talk of moderation and dignity and duty and `
` brotherly love--it will have difficulty IN CONCEALING ITS IRONY! `
` `
` 263. There is an INSTINCT FOR RANK, which more than anything else `
` is already the sign of a HIGH rank; there is a DELIGHT in the `
` NUANCES of reverence which leads one to infer noble origin and `
` habits. The refinement, goodness, and loftiness of a soul are put `
` to a perilous test when something passes by that is of the `
` highest rank, but is not yet protected by the awe of authority `
` from obtrusive touches and incivilities: something that goes its `
` way like a living touchstone, undistinguished, undiscovered, and `
` tentative, perhaps voluntarily veiled and disguised. He whose `
` task and practice it is to investigate souls, will avail himself `
` of many varieties of this very art to determine the ultimate `
` value of a soul, the unalterable, innate order of rank to which `
` it belongs: he will test it by its INSTINCT FOR REVERENCE. `
` DIFFERENCE ENGENDRE HAINE: the vulgarity of many a nature spurts `
` up suddenly like dirty water, when any holy vessel, any jewel `
` from closed shrines, any book bearing the marks of great destiny, `
` is brought before it; while on the other hand, there is an `
` involuntary silence, a hesitation of the eye, a cessation of all `
` gestures, by which it is indicated that a soul FEELS the nearness `
` of what is worthiest of respect. The way in which, on the whole, `
` the reverence for the BIBLE has hitherto been maintained in `
` Europe, is perhaps the best example of discipline and refinement `
` of manners which Europe owes to Christianity: books of such `
` profoundness and supreme significance require for their `
` protection an external tyranny of authority, in order to acquire `
` the PERIOD of thousands of years which is necessary to exhaust `
` and unriddle them. Much has been achieved when the sentiment has `
` been at last instilled into the masses (the shallow-pates and the `
` boobies of every kind) that they are not allowed to touch `
` everything, that there are holy experiences before which they `
` must take off their shoes and keep away the unclean hand--it is `
` almost their highest advance towards humanity. On the contrary, `
` in the so-called cultured classes, the believers in "modern `
` ideas," nothing is perhaps so repulsive as their lack of shame, `
` the easy insolence of eye and hand with which they touch, taste, `
` and finger everything; and it is possible that even yet there is `
` more RELATIVE nobility of taste, and more tact for reverence `
` among the people, among the lower classes of the people, `
` especially among peasants, than among the newspaper-reading `
` DEMIMONDE of intellect, the cultured class. `
` `
` 264. It cannot be effaced from a man's soul what his ancestors `
` have preferably and most constantly done: whether they were `
` perhaps diligent economizers attached to a desk and a cash-box, `
` modest and citizen-like in their desires, modest also in their `
` virtues; or whether they were accustomed to commanding from `
` morning till night, fond of rude pleasures and probably of still `
` ruder duties and responsibilities; or whether, finally, at one `
` time or another, they have sacrificed old privileges of birth and `
` possession, in order to live wholly for their faith--for their `
` "God,"--as men of an inexorable and sensitive conscience, which `
` blushes at every compromise. It is quite impossible for a man NOT `
` to have the qualities and predilections of his parents and `
` ancestors in his constitution, whatever appearances may suggest `
` to the contrary. This is the problem of race. Granted that one `
` knows something of the parents, it is admissible to draw a `
` conclusion about the child: any kind of offensive incontinence, `
` any kind of sordid envy, or of clumsy self-vaunting--the three `
` things which together have constituted the genuine plebeian type `
` in all times--such must pass over to the child, as surely as bad `
` blood; and with the help of the best education and culture one `
` will only succeed in DECEIVING with regard to such heredity.--And `
` what else does education and culture try to do nowadays! In our `
` very democratic, or rather, very plebeian age, "education" and `
` "culture" MUST be essentially the art of deceiving--deceiving `
` with regard to origin, with regard to the inherited plebeianism `
` in body and soul. An educator who nowadays preached truthfulness `
` above everything else, and called out constantly to his pupils: `
` "Be true! Be natural! Show yourselves as you are!"--even such a `
` virtuous and sincere ass would learn in a short time to have `
` recourse to the FURCA of Horace, NATURAM EXPELLERE: with what `
` results? "Plebeianism" USQUE RECURRET. [FOOTNOTE: Horace's `
` "Epistles," I. x. 24.] `
` `
` 265. At the risk of displeasing innocent ears, I submit that `
` egoism belongs to the essence of a noble soul, I mean the `
` unalterable belief that to a being such as "we," other beings `
` must naturally be in subjection, and have to sacrifice `
` themselves. The noble soul accepts the fact of his egoism without `
` question, and also without consciousness of harshness, `
` constraint, or arbitrariness therein, but rather as something `
` that may have its basis in the primary law of things:--if he `
` sought a designation for it he would say: "It is justice itself." `
` He acknowledges under certain circumstances, which made him `
` hesitate at first, that there are other equally privileged ones; `
` as soon as he has settled this question of rank, he moves among `
` those equals and equally privileged ones with the same assurance, `
` as regards modesty and delicate respect, which he enjoys in `
` intercourse with himself--in accordance with an innate heavenly `
` mechanism which all the stars understand. It is an ADDITIONAL `
` instance of his egoism, this artfulness and self-limitation in `
` intercourse with his equals--every star is a similar egoist; he `
` honours HIMSELF in them, and in the rights which he concedes to `
` them, he has no doubt that the exchange of honours and rights, as `
` the ESSENCE of all intercourse, belongs also to the natural `
` condition of things. The noble soul gives as he takes, prompted `
` by the passionate and sensitive instinct of requital, which is at `
` the root of his nature. The notion of "favour" has, INTER PARES, `
` neither significance nor good repute; there may be a sublime way `
` of letting gifts as it were light upon one from above, and of `
` drinking them thirstily like dew-drops; but for those arts and `
` displays the noble soul has no aptitude. His egoism hinders him `
` here: in general, he looks "aloft" unwillingly--he looks either `
` FORWARD, horizontally and deliberately, or downwards--HE KNOWS `
` THAT HE IS ON A HEIGHT. `
` `
` 266. "One can only truly esteem him who does not LOOK OUT FOR `
` himself."--Goethe to Rath Schlosser. `
` `
` 267. The Chinese have a proverb which mothers even teach their `
` children: "SIAO-SIN" ("MAKE THY HEART SMALL"). This is the `
` essentially fundamental tendency in latter-day civilizations. I `
` have no doubt that an ancient Greek, also, would first of all `
` remark the self-dwarfing in us Europeans of today--in this `
` respect alone we should immediately be "distasteful" to him. `
` `
` 268. What, after all, is ignobleness?--Words are vocal symbols `
` for ideas; ideas, however, are more or less definite mental `
` symbols for frequently returning and concurring sensations, for `
` groups of sensations. It is not sufficient to use the same words `
` in order to understand one another: we must also employ the same `
` words for the same kind of internal experiences, we must in the `
` end have experiences IN COMMON. On this account the people of one `
` nation understand one another better than those belonging to `
` different nations, even when they use the same language; or `
` rather, when people have lived long together under similar `
`
` variations are fostered; the species needs itself as species, as `
` something which, precisely by virtue of its hardness, its `
` uniformity, and simplicity of structure, can in general prevail `
` and make itself permanent in constant struggle with its `
` neighbours, or with rebellious or rebellion-threatening vassals. `
` The most varied experience teaches it what are the qualities to `
` which it principally owes the fact that it still exists, in spite `
` of all Gods and men, and has hitherto been victorious: these `
` qualities it calls virtues, and these virtues alone it develops `
` to maturity. It does so with severity, indeed it desires `
` severity; every aristocratic morality is intolerant in the `
` education of youth, in the control of women, in the marriage `
` customs, in the relations of old and young, in the penal laws `
` (which have an eye only for the degenerating): it counts `
` intolerance itself among the virtues, under the name of `
` "justice." A type with few, but very marked features, a species `
` of severe, warlike, wisely silent, reserved, and reticent men `
` (and as such, with the most delicate sensibility for the charm `
` and nuances of society) is thus established, unaffected by the `
` vicissitudes of generations; the constant struggle with uniform `
` UNFAVOURABLE conditions is, as already remarked, the cause of a `
` type becoming stable and hard. Finally, however, a happy state of `
` things results, the enormous tension is relaxed; there are `
` perhaps no more enemies among the neighbouring peoples, and the `
` means of life, even of the enjoyment of life, are present in `
` superabundance. With one stroke the bond and constraint of the `
` old discipline severs: it is no longer regarded as necessary, as `
` a condition of existence--if it would continue, it can only do so `
` as a form of LUXURY, as an archaizing TASTE. Variations, whether `
` they be deviations (into the higher, finer, and rarer), or `
` deteriorations and monstrosities, appear suddenly on the scene in `
` the greatest exuberance and splendour; the individual dares to be `
` individual and detach himself. At this turning-point of history `
` there manifest themselves, side by side, and often mixed and `
` entangled together, a magnificent, manifold, virgin-forest-like `
` up-growth and up-striving, a kind of TROPICAL TEMPO in the `
` rivalry of growth, and an extraordinary decay and self- `
` destruction, owing to the savagely opposing and seemingly `
` exploding egoisms, which strive with one another "for sun and `
` light," and can no longer assign any limit, restraint, or `
` forbearance for themselves by means of the hitherto existing `
` morality. It was this morality itself which piled up the strength `
` so enormously, which bent the bow in so threatening a manner:--it `
` is now "out of date," it is getting "out of date." The dangerous `
` and disquieting point has been reached when the greater, more `
` manifold, more comprehensive life IS LIVED BEYOND the old `
` morality; the "individual" stands out, and is obliged to have `
` recourse to his own law-giving, his own arts and artifices for `
` self-preservation, self-elevation, and self-deliverance. Nothing `
` but new "Whys," nothing but new "Hows," no common formulas any `
` longer, misunderstanding and disregard in league with each other, `
` decay, deterioration, and the loftiest desires frightfully `
` entangled, the genius of the race overflowing from all the `
` cornucopias of good and bad, a portentous simultaneousness of `
` Spring and Autumn, full of new charms and mysteries peculiar to `
` the fresh, still inexhausted, still unwearied corruption. Danger `
` is again present, the mother of morality, great danger; this time `
` shifted into the individual, into the neighbour and friend, into `
` the street, into their own child, into their own heart, into all `
` the most personal and secret recesses of their desires and `
` volitions. What will the moral philosophers who appear at this `
` time have to preach? They discover, these sharp onlookers and `
` loafers, that the end is quickly approaching, that everything `
` around them decays and produces decay, that nothing will endure `
` until the day after tomorrow, except one species of man, the `
` incurably MEDIOCRE. The mediocre alone have a prospect of `
` continuing and propagating themselves--they will be the men of `
` the future, the sole survivors; "be like them! become mediocre!" `
` is now the only morality which has still a significance, which `
` still obtains a hearing.--But it is difficult to preach this `
` morality of mediocrity! it can never avow what it is and what it `
` desires! it has to talk of moderation and dignity and duty and `
` brotherly love--it will have difficulty IN CONCEALING ITS IRONY! `
` `
` 263. There is an INSTINCT FOR RANK, which more than anything else `
` is already the sign of a HIGH rank; there is a DELIGHT in the `
` NUANCES of reverence which leads one to infer noble origin and `
` habits. The refinement, goodness, and loftiness of a soul are put `
` to a perilous test when something passes by that is of the `
` highest rank, but is not yet protected by the awe of authority `
` from obtrusive touches and incivilities: something that goes its `
` way like a living touchstone, undistinguished, undiscovered, and `
` tentative, perhaps voluntarily veiled and disguised. He whose `
` task and practice it is to investigate souls, will avail himself `
` of many varieties of this very art to determine the ultimate `
` value of a soul, the unalterable, innate order of rank to which `
` it belongs: he will test it by its INSTINCT FOR REVERENCE. `
` DIFFERENCE ENGENDRE HAINE: the vulgarity of many a nature spurts `
` up suddenly like dirty water, when any holy vessel, any jewel `
` from closed shrines, any book bearing the marks of great destiny, `
` is brought before it; while on the other hand, there is an `
` involuntary silence, a hesitation of the eye, a cessation of all `
` gestures, by which it is indicated that a soul FEELS the nearness `
` of what is worthiest of respect. The way in which, on the whole, `
` the reverence for the BIBLE has hitherto been maintained in `
` Europe, is perhaps the best example of discipline and refinement `
` of manners which Europe owes to Christianity: books of such `
` profoundness and supreme significance require for their `
` protection an external tyranny of authority, in order to acquire `
` the PERIOD of thousands of years which is necessary to exhaust `
` and unriddle them. Much has been achieved when the sentiment has `
` been at last instilled into the masses (the shallow-pates and the `
` boobies of every kind) that they are not allowed to touch `
` everything, that there are holy experiences before which they `
` must take off their shoes and keep away the unclean hand--it is `
` almost their highest advance towards humanity. On the contrary, `
` in the so-called cultured classes, the believers in "modern `
` ideas," nothing is perhaps so repulsive as their lack of shame, `
` the easy insolence of eye and hand with which they touch, taste, `
` and finger everything; and it is possible that even yet there is `
` more RELATIVE nobility of taste, and more tact for reverence `
` among the people, among the lower classes of the people, `
` especially among peasants, than among the newspaper-reading `
` DEMIMONDE of intellect, the cultured class. `
` `
` 264. It cannot be effaced from a man's soul what his ancestors `
` have preferably and most constantly done: whether they were `
` perhaps diligent economizers attached to a desk and a cash-box, `
` modest and citizen-like in their desires, modest also in their `
` virtues; or whether they were accustomed to commanding from `
` morning till night, fond of rude pleasures and probably of still `
` ruder duties and responsibilities; or whether, finally, at one `
` time or another, they have sacrificed old privileges of birth and `
` possession, in order to live wholly for their faith--for their `
` "God,"--as men of an inexorable and sensitive conscience, which `
` blushes at every compromise. It is quite impossible for a man NOT `
` to have the qualities and predilections of his parents and `
` ancestors in his constitution, whatever appearances may suggest `
` to the contrary. This is the problem of race. Granted that one `
` knows something of the parents, it is admissible to draw a `
` conclusion about the child: any kind of offensive incontinence, `
` any kind of sordid envy, or of clumsy self-vaunting--the three `
` things which together have constituted the genuine plebeian type `
` in all times--such must pass over to the child, as surely as bad `
` blood; and with the help of the best education and culture one `
` will only succeed in DECEIVING with regard to such heredity.--And `
` what else does education and culture try to do nowadays! In our `
` very democratic, or rather, very plebeian age, "education" and `
` "culture" MUST be essentially the art of deceiving--deceiving `
` with regard to origin, with regard to the inherited plebeianism `
` in body and soul. An educator who nowadays preached truthfulness `
` above everything else, and called out constantly to his pupils: `
` "Be true! Be natural! Show yourselves as you are!"--even such a `
` virtuous and sincere ass would learn in a short time to have `
` recourse to the FURCA of Horace, NATURAM EXPELLERE: with what `
` results? "Plebeianism" USQUE RECURRET. [FOOTNOTE: Horace's `
` "Epistles," I. x. 24.] `
` `
` 265. At the risk of displeasing innocent ears, I submit that `
` egoism belongs to the essence of a noble soul, I mean the `
` unalterable belief that to a being such as "we," other beings `
` must naturally be in subjection, and have to sacrifice `
` themselves. The noble soul accepts the fact of his egoism without `
` question, and also without consciousness of harshness, `
` constraint, or arbitrariness therein, but rather as something `
` that may have its basis in the primary law of things:--if he `
` sought a designation for it he would say: "It is justice itself." `
` He acknowledges under certain circumstances, which made him `
` hesitate at first, that there are other equally privileged ones; `
` as soon as he has settled this question of rank, he moves among `
` those equals and equally privileged ones with the same assurance, `
` as regards modesty and delicate respect, which he enjoys in `
` intercourse with himself--in accordance with an innate heavenly `
` mechanism which all the stars understand. It is an ADDITIONAL `
` instance of his egoism, this artfulness and self-limitation in `
` intercourse with his equals--every star is a similar egoist; he `
` honours HIMSELF in them, and in the rights which he concedes to `
` them, he has no doubt that the exchange of honours and rights, as `
` the ESSENCE of all intercourse, belongs also to the natural `
` condition of things. The noble soul gives as he takes, prompted `
` by the passionate and sensitive instinct of requital, which is at `
` the root of his nature. The notion of "favour" has, INTER PARES, `
` neither significance nor good repute; there may be a sublime way `
` of letting gifts as it were light upon one from above, and of `
` drinking them thirstily like dew-drops; but for those arts and `
` displays the noble soul has no aptitude. His egoism hinders him `
` here: in general, he looks "aloft" unwillingly--he looks either `
` FORWARD, horizontally and deliberately, or downwards--HE KNOWS `
` THAT HE IS ON A HEIGHT. `
` `
` 266. "One can only truly esteem him who does not LOOK OUT FOR `
` himself."--Goethe to Rath Schlosser. `
` `
` 267. The Chinese have a proverb which mothers even teach their `
` children: "SIAO-SIN" ("MAKE THY HEART SMALL"). This is the `
` essentially fundamental tendency in latter-day civilizations. I `
` have no doubt that an ancient Greek, also, would first of all `
` remark the self-dwarfing in us Europeans of today--in this `
` respect alone we should immediately be "distasteful" to him. `
` `
` 268. What, after all, is ignobleness?--Words are vocal symbols `
` for ideas; ideas, however, are more or less definite mental `
` symbols for frequently returning and concurring sensations, for `
` groups of sensations. It is not sufficient to use the same words `
` in order to understand one another: we must also employ the same `
` words for the same kind of internal experiences, we must in the `
` end have experiences IN COMMON. On this account the people of one `
` nation understand one another better than those belonging to `
` different nations, even when they use the same language; or `
` rather, when people have lived long together under similar `
`