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it is here, perhaps, that our new language sounds most strangely. `
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The question is, how far an opinion is life-furthering, life- `
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preserving, species-preserving, perhaps species-rearing, and we `
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are fundamentally inclined to maintain that the falsest opinions `
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(to which the synthetic judgments a priori belong), are the most `
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indispensable to us, that without a recognition of logical `
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fictions, without a comparison of reality with the purely `
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IMAGINED world of the absolute and immutable, without a constant `
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counterfeiting of the world by means of numbers, man could not `
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live--that the renunciation of false opinions would be a `
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renunciation of life, a negation of life. TO RECOGNISE UNTRUTH AS `
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A CONDITION OF LIFE; that is certainly to impugn the traditional `
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ideas of value in a dangerous manner, and a philosophy which `
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ventures to do so, has thereby alone placed itself beyond good `
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and evil. `
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5. That which causes philosophers to be regarded half- `
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distrustfully and half-mockingly, is not the oft-repeated `
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discovery how innocent they are--how often and easily they make `
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mistakes and lose their way, in short, how childish and childlike `
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they are,--but that there is not enough honest dealing with them, `
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whereas they all raise a loud and virtuous outcry when the `
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problem of truthfulness is even hinted at in the remotest manner. `
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They all pose as though their real opinions had been discovered `
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and attained through the self-evolving of a cold, pure, divinely `
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indifferent dialectic (in contrast to all sorts of mystics, who, `
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fairer and foolisher, talk of "inspiration"), whereas, in fact, a `
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prejudiced proposition, idea, or "suggestion," which is generally `
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their heart's desire abstracted and refined, is defended by them `
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with arguments sought out after the event. They are all advocates `
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who do not wish to be regarded as such, generally astute `
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defenders, also, of their prejudices, which they dub "truths,"-- `
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and VERY far from having the conscience which bravely admits this `
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to itself, very far from having the good taste of the courage `
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which goes so far as to let this be understood, perhaps to warn `
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friend or foe, or in cheerful confidence and self-ridicule. The `
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spectacle of the Tartuffery of old Kant, equally stiff and `
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decent, with which he entices us into the dialectic by-ways that `
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lead (more correctly mislead) to his "categorical imperative"-- `
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makes us fastidious ones smile, we who find no small amusement in `
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spying out the subtle tricks of old moralists and ethical `
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preachers. Or, still more so, the hocus-pocus in mathematical `
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form, by means of which Spinoza has, as it were, clad his `
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philosophy in mail and mask--in fact, the "love of HIS wisdom," `
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to translate the term fairly and squarely--in order thereby to `
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strike terror at once into the heart of the assailant who should `
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dare to cast a glance on that invincible maiden, that Pallas `
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Athene:--how much of personal timidity and vulnerability does `
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this masquerade of a sickly recluse betray! `
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6. It has gradually become clear to me what every great `
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philosophy up till now has consisted of--namely, the confession `
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of its originator, and a species of involuntary and unconscious `
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auto-biography; and moreover that the moral (or immoral) purpose `
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in every philosophy has constituted the true vital germ out of `
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which the entire plant has always grown. Indeed, to understand `
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how the abstrusest metaphysical assertions of a philosopher have `
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been arrived at, it is always well (and wise) to first ask `
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oneself: "What morality do they (or does he) aim at?" `
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Accordingly, I do not believe that an "impulse to knowledge" is `
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the father of philosophy; but that another impulse, here as `
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elsewhere, has only made use of knowledge (and mistaken `
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knowledge!) as an instrument. But whoever considers the `
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fundamental impulses of man with a view to determining how far `
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they may have here acted as INSPIRING GENII (or as demons and `
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cobolds), will find that they have all practiced philosophy at `
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one time or another, and that each one of them would have been `
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only too glad to look upon itself as the ultimate end of `
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existence and the legitimate LORD over all the other impulses. `
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For every impulse is imperious, and as SUCH, attempts to `
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philosophize. To be sure, in the case of scholars, in the case of `
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really scientific men, it may be otherwise--"better," if you `
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will; there there may really be such a thing as an "impulse to `
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knowledge," some kind of small, independent clock-work, which, `
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when well wound up, works away industriously to that end, WITHOUT `
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the rest of the scholarly impulses taking any material part `
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therein. The actual "interests" of the scholar, therefore, are `
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generally in quite another direction--in the family, perhaps, or `
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in money-making, or in politics; it is, in fact, almost `
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indifferent at what point of research his little machine is `
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placed, and whether the hopeful young worker becomes a good `
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philologist, a mushroom specialist, or a chemist; he is not `
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CHARACTERISED by becoming this or that. In the philosopher, on `
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the contrary, there is absolutely nothing impersonal; and above `
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all, his morality furnishes a decided and decisive testimony as `
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to WHO HE IS,--that is to say, in what order the deepest impulses `
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of his nature stand to each other. `
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7. How malicious philosophers can be! I know of nothing more `
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stinging than the joke Epicurus took the liberty of making on `
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Plato and the Platonists; he called them Dionysiokolakes. In its `
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original sense, and on the face of it, the word signifies `
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"Flatterers of Dionysius"--consequently, tyrants' accessories and `
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lick-spittles; besides this, however, it is as much as to say, `
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"They are all ACTORS, there is nothing genuine about them" (for `
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Dionysiokolax was a popular name for an actor). And the latter is `
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really the malignant reproach that Epicurus cast upon Plato: he `
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was annoyed by the grandiose manner, the mise en scene style of `
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which Plato and his scholars were masters--of which Epicurus was `
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not a master! He, the old school-teacher of Samos, who sat `
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concealed in his little garden at Athens, and wrote three hundred `
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books, perhaps out of rage and ambitious envy of Plato, who `
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knows! Greece took a hundred years to find out who the garden-god `
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Epicurus really was. Did she ever find out? `
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8. There is a point in every philosophy at which the "conviction" `
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of the philosopher appears on the scene; or, to put it in the `
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words of an ancient mystery: `
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Adventavit asinus, Pulcher et fortissimus. `
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9. You desire to LIVE "according to Nature"? Oh, you noble `
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Stoics, what fraud of words! Imagine to yourselves a being like `
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Nature, boundlessly extravagant, boundlessly indifferent, without `
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purpose or consideration, without pity or justice, at once `
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fruitful and barren and uncertain: imagine to yourselves `
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INDIFFERENCE as a power--how COULD you live in accordance with `
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such indifference? To live--is not that just endeavouring to be `
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otherwise than this Nature? Is not living valuing, preferring, `
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being unjust, being limited, endeavouring to be different? And `
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granted that your imperative, "living according to Nature," means `
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actually the same as "living according to life"--how could you do `
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DIFFERENTLY? Why should you make a principle out of what you `
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yourselves are, and must be? In reality, however, it is quite `
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otherwise with you: while you pretend to read with rapture the `
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canon of your law in Nature, you want something quite the `
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contrary, you extraordinary stage-players and self-deluders! In `
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your pride you wish to dictate your morals and ideals to Nature, `
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to Nature herself, and to incorporate them therein; you insist `
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that it shall be Nature "according to the Stoa," and would like `
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everything to be made after your own image, as a vast, eternal `
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glorification and generalism of Stoicism! With all your love for `
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truth, you have forced yourselves so long, so persistently, and `
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with such hypnotic rigidity to see Nature FALSELY, that is to `
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say, Stoically, that you are no longer able to see it otherwise-- `
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and to crown all, some unfathomable superciliousness gives you `
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the Bedlamite hope that BECAUSE you are able to tyrannize over `
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yourselves--Stoicism is self-tyranny--Nature will also allow `
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herself to be tyrannized over: is not the Stoic a PART of `
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Nature? . . . But this is an old and everlasting story: what `
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happened in old times with the Stoics still happens today, as `
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soon as ever a philosophy begins to believe in itself. It always `
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creates the world in its own image; it cannot do otherwise; `
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philosophy is this tyrannical impulse itself, the most spiritual `
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Will to Power, the will to "creation of the world," the will to `
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the causa prima. `
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10. The eagerness and subtlety, I should even say craftiness, `
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with which the problem of "the real and the apparent world" is `
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dealt with at present throughout Europe, furnishes food for `
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thought and attention; and he who hears only a "Will to Truth" in `
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the background, and nothing else, cannot certainly boast of the `
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sharpest ears. In rare and isolated cases, it may really have `
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happened that such a Will to Truth--a certain extravagant and `
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adventurous pluck, a metaphysician's ambition of the forlorn `
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hope--has participated therein: that which in the end always `
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prefers a handful of "certainty" to a whole cartload of beautiful `
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possibilities; there may even be puritanical fanatics of `
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conscience, who prefer to put their last trust in a sure nothing, `
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rather than in an uncertain something. But that is Nihilism, and `
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the sign of a despairing, mortally wearied soul, notwithstanding `
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the courageous bearing such a virtue may display. It seems, `
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however, to be otherwise with stronger and livelier thinkers who `
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are still eager for life. In that they side AGAINST appearance, `
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and speak superciliously of "perspective," in that they rank the `
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credibility of their own bodies about as low as the credibility `
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of the ocular evidence that "the earth stands still," and thus, `
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apparently, allowing with complacency their securest possession `
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to escape (for what does one at present believe in more firmly `
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than in one's body?),--who knows if they are not really trying to `
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win back something which was formerly an even securer possession, `
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something of the old domain of the faith of former times, perhaps `
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the "immortal soul," perhaps "the old God," in short, ideas by `
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which they could live better, that is to say, more vigorously and `
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more joyously, than by "modern ideas"? There is DISTRUST of these `
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modern ideas in this mode of looking at things, a disbelief in `
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all that has been constructed yesterday and today; there is `
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perhaps some slight admixture of satiety and scorn, which can no `
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longer endure the BRIC-A-BRAC of ideas of the most varied origin, `
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such as so-called Positivism at present throws on the market; a `
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disgust of the more refined taste at the village-fair motleyness `
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and patchiness of all these reality-philosophasters, in whom `
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there is nothing either new or true, except this motleyness. `
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Therein it seems to me that we should agree with those skeptical `
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anti-realists and knowledge-microscopists of the present day; `
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their instinct, which repels them from MODERN reality, is `
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unrefuted . . . what do their retrograde by-paths concern us! `
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The main thing about them is NOT that they wish to go "back," `
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but that they wish to get AWAY therefrom. A little MORE strength, `
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swing, courage, and artistic power, and they would be OFF--and `
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not back! `
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11. It seems to me that there is everywhere an attempt at present `
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to divert attention from the actual influence which Kant `
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exercised on German philosophy, and especially to ignore `
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prudently the value which he set upon himself. Kant was first and `
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foremost proud of his Table of Categories; with it in his hand he `
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said: "This is the most difficult thing that could ever be `
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undertaken on behalf of metaphysics." Let us only understand this `
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"could be"! He was proud of having DISCOVERED a new faculty in `
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man, the faculty of synthetic judgment a priori. Granting that he `
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