Chapter III: Introduction (3)

People who talk about their importance to mankind have a feeble conscience for common bourgeois rectitude, keeping of contracts, promises, etc. 1, 363

The demand to be loved is the greatest of presumptions. 1, 363

When a man roars with laughter he surpasses all the animals by his vulgarity. 1, 369

The first opinion that occurs to us when we are suddenly asked about anything is not usually our own, but only the current opinion belonging to our caste, position, or family; our own opinions seldom float on the surface. 1, 372

Nobody talks more passionately of his rights than he who, in the depths of his soul, is doubtful about them. 1, 380.

Unconsciously we seek the principles and opinions which are suited to our temperament, so that at last it seems as if these principles and opinions had formed our character and given it support and stability, whereas exactly the contrary has taken place. Our thoughts and judgments are, apparently, to be taken subsequently as the causes of our nature, but as a matter of fact _our_ nature is the cause of our so thinking and judging. 1, 384

The man of unpleasant character, full of distrust, envious of the success of fellow-competitors and neighbours, violent and enraged at divergent opinions, shows that he belongs to an earlier grade of culture, and is, therefore, an atavism; for the way in which he behaves to people was right and suitable only for an age of club-law; he is an _atavist._ The man of a different character, rich in sympathy, winning friends everywhere, finding all that is growing and becoming amiable, rejoicing at the honours and successes of others and claiming no privilege of solely knowing the truth, but full of a modest distrust,--he is a forerunner who presses upwards towards a higher human culture. 1, 388

He who has not passed through different phases of conviction, but sticks to the faith in whose net he was first caught, is, under all circumstances, just on account of this unchangeableness, a representative of _atavistic_ culture.... 1, 400

Opinions evolve out of _passions; indolence of intellect_ allows those to congeal into _convictions_. 1, 404

He who has attained intellectual emancipation to any extent cannot, for a long time, regard himself otherwise than as a wanderer on the face of the earth--and not even as a traveller _towards_ a final goal, for there is no such thing. 1, 405

If we make it clear to any one that, strictly, he can never speak of truth, but only of probability and of its degrees, we generally discover, from the undisguised joy of our pupil, how greatly men prefer the uncertainty of their intellectual horizon, and how in their heart of hearts they hate truth because of its definiteness. 2, 15

With all that enthusiasts say in favour of their gospel or their master they are defending themselves, however much they comport themselves as the judges and not the accused: because they are involuntarily reminded almost at every moment that they are exceptions and have to assert their legitimacy. 2, 18

The belief in truth begins with the doubt of all truths in which one has previously believed. 2, 20

Philosophic brains will ... be distinguished from others by their disbelief in the metaphysical significance of morality. 2, 29

You hold that sacrifice is the hallmark of moral action?--Just consider whether in every action that is done with deliberation, in the best as in the worst, there be not a sacrifice. 2, 30

It is more convenient to follow one's conscience than one's intelligence, for at every failure conscience finds an excuse and an encouragement in itself. That is why there are so many conscientious and so few intelligent people. 2, 33

All moralists are shy, because they know they are confounded with spies and traitors, so soon as their penchant is noticed. Besides, they are generally conscious of being impotent in action, for in the midst of work the motives of their activity almost withdraw their attention from the work. 2, 42

No one accuses without an underlying notion of punishment and revenge, even when he accuses his fate or himself. All complaint is accusation, all self-congratulation is praise. Whether we do one or the other, we always make some one responsible. 2, 44

We must know how to emerge cleaner from unclean conditions, and, if necessary, how to wash ourselves even with dirty water. 2, 44

The origin of morality may be traced to two ideas: "The community is of more value than the individual," and "The permanent interest is to be preferred to the temporary." The conclusion drawn is that the permanent interest of the community is unconditionally to be set above the temporary interest of the individual, especially his momentary well-being, but also his permanent interest and even the prolongation of his existence. 2, 46-47

We should not shrink from treading the road to a virtue, even when we see clearly that nothing but egotism, and accordingly utility, personal comfort, fear, considerations of health, reputation, or glory, are the impelling motives. These motives are styled ignoble and selfish. Very well, but if they stimulate us to some virtue--for example, self-denial, dutifulness, order, thrift, measure, and moderation--let us listen to them, whatever their epithets may be! 2, 48

The tendency of a talent towards moral subjects, characters, motives, towards the "beautiful soul" of the work of art, is often only a glass eye put on by the artist who lacks a beautiful soul. 2, 78

Art is above all and meant to embellish life, to make us ourselves endurable and if possible agreeable in the eyes of others. With this task in view, art moderates us and holds us in restraint, creates forms of intercourse, binds over the uneducated to laws of decency, cleanliness, politeness, well-timed speech and silence. Hence art must conceal or transfigure everything that is ugly--the painful, terrible, and disgusting elements which in spite of every effort will always break out afresh in accordance with the very origin of human nature. Art has to perform this duty especially in regard to the passions and spiritual agonies and anxieties, and to cause the significant factor to shine through unavoidable or unconquerable ugliness. To this great, super-great task the so-called art proper, that of works of art, is a mere accessory. A man who feels within himself a surplus of such powers of embellishment, concealment, and transfiguration will finally seek to unburden himself of this surplus in works of art. The same holds good, under special circumstances, of a whole nation. 2, 01-92

On great minds is bestowed the terrifying all-too-human of their natures, their blindnesses, deformities, and extravagances, so that their more powerful, easily all-too-powerful influence may be continually held within bounds through the distrust aroused by such qualities. 2, 100

Original minds are distinguished not by being the first to see a new thing, but by seeing the old, well-known thing, which is seen and overlooked by every one, as something new. The first discoverer is usually that quite ordinary and unintellectual visionary--chance. 2, 105

The obvious satisfaction of the individual with his own form excites imitation and gradually creates the form of the many--that is, fashion. 2, 107

Who of us could dare to call himself a "free spirit" if he could not render homage after his fashion, by taking on his own shoulders a portion of that burden of public dislike and abuse, to men to whom this name is attached as a reproach? 2, 108

Immediate self-observation is not enough, by a long way, to enable us to learn to know ourselves. We need history, for the past continues to flow through us in a hundred channels. We ourselves are, after all, nothing but our own sensation at every moment of this continued flow. 2, 117

To young and fresh barbarian nations ... Christianity is a poison. 2, 120

Faith, indeed, has up to the present not been able to move real mountains, although I do not know who assumed that it could. But it can put mountains where there was none. 2, 121

Among travellers we may distinguish five grades. The first and lowest grade is of those who travel and are seen--they become really travelled and are, as it were, blind. Next come those who really see the world. The third class experience the results of their seeing. The fourth weave their experience into their life and carry it with them henceforth. Lastly, there are some men of the highest strength who, as soon as they have returned home, must finally and necessarily work out in their lives and productions all the things seen that they have experienced and incorporated in themselves.--Like these five species of travellers, all mankind goes through the whole pilgrimage of life, the lowest as purely passive, the highest as those who act and live out their lives without keeping back any residue of inner experiences. 2, 125

To treat all men with equal good-humour, and to be kind without distinctions of persons, may arise as much from a profound contempt for mankind as from an in-grained love of humanity. 2, 127

Towards science women and self-seeking artists entertain a feeling that is composed of envy and sentimentality. 2, 134

The intellectual strength of a woman is best proved by the fact that she offers her own intellect as a sacrifice out of love for a man and his intellect, and that nevertheless in the new domain, which was previously foreign to her nature, a second intellect at once arises as an aftergrowth, to which the man's mind impels her. 2, 136

By women Nature shows how far she has hitherto achieved her task of fashioning humanity, by man she shows what she has had overcome, and what she still proposes to do for humanity. 2, 137

Whence arises the sudden passion of a man for a woman, a passion so deep, so vital? Least of all from sensuality only: but when a man finds weakness, need of help, and high spirits united in the same creature, he suffers a sort of overflowing of soul, and is touched and offended at the same moment. At this point arises the source of great love. 2, 140

Profundity of thought belongs to youth, clarity of thought to old age. 2, 140

The only remedy against Socialism that still lies in your power is to avoid provoking Socialism--in other words, to live in moderation and contentment, to prevent as far as possible all lavish display, and to aid the State as far as possible in its taxing of all superfluities and luxuries. 2, 145

Only a man of intellect should hold property: otherwise property is dangerous to the community. For the owner, not knowing how to make use of the leisure which his possessions might secure to him, will continue to strive after more property.... It excites envy in the poor and uncultured--who at bottom always envy culture and see no mask in the mask--and gradually paves the way for a social revolution. 2, 147-148

Only up to a certain point does possession make men feel freer and more independent; one step farther, and possession becomes lord, the possessor a slave. 2, 149

The governments of the great States have two instruments for keeping the people independent, in fear and obedience: a coarser, the army, and a more refined, the school. 2, 152

To call a thing good not a day longer than it appears to us good, and above all not a day earlier--that is the only way to keep joy pure. 2, 158

To honour and acknowledge even the bad, when it _pleases_ one, and to have no conception of how one could be ashamed of being pleased thereat, is the mark of sovereignty in things great and small. 2, 158-159

When life has treated us in true robber fashion, and has taken away all that it could of honour, joys, connections, health, and property of every kind, we perhaps discover in the end, after the first shock, that we are richer than before. For now we know for the first time what is so peculiarly ours that no robber hand can touch it, and perhaps, after all the plunder and devastation, we come forward with the airs of a mighty real estate owner. 2, 162

You rank far below others when you try to establish the exception and they the rule. 2, 167

The most senile thought ever conceived about men lies in the famous saying, "The ego is always hateful," the most childish in the still more famous saying, "Love thy neighbour as thyself."--With the one knowledge of men has ceased, with the other it has not yet begun. 2, 172

You find your burden of life too heavy? Then you must increase the burden of your life. 2, 176

That the world is _not_ the abstract essence of an eternal reasonableness is sufficiently proved by the fact that that _bit of the world_ which we know--I mean our human reason--is none too reasonable. And if _this_ is not eternally and wholly wise and reasonable, the rest of the world will not be so either. 2, 184

There exists a simulated contempt for all things that mankind actually holds most important, for all everyday matters. For instance, we say "we only eat to live"--an abominable _lie,_ like that which speaks of the procreation of children as the real purpose of all sexual pleasure. Conversely, the reverence for "the most important things" is hardly ever quite genuine. 2, 185

The doctrine of free will is an invention of the ruling classes. 2, 190

If a God created the world, he created man to be his ape, as a perpetual source of amusement in the midst of his rather tedious eternities. 2, 193

The robber and the man of power who promises to protect a community from robbers are perhaps at bottom beings of the same mould, save that the latter attains his ends by other means than the former--that is to say, through regular imposts paid to him by the community, and no longer through forced contributions. 2, 200

The sting of conscience, like the gnawing of a dog at a stone, is mere foolishness. 2, 217

Rights may be traced to traditions, traditions to momentary agreements. 2, 217

Morality is primarily a means of preserving the community and saving it from destruction. Next it is a means of maintaining the community on a certain plane and in a certain degree of benevolence. Its motives are fear and hope, and these in a more coarse, rough, and powerful form, the more the propensity towards the perverse, one-sided, and personal still persists. 2, 221

Moral prohibitions, like those of the Decalogue, are only suited to ages when reason lies vanquished. 2, 223

It is difficult to explain why pity is so highly prized, just as we need to explain why the unselfish man, who is originally despised or feared as being artful, is praised. 2, 224

The sum-total of our conscience is all that has regularly been demanded of us, without reason, in the days of our childhood, by people whom we respected or feared. 2, 224

Every word is a preconceived judgment. 2, 225

The fatalism of the Turk has this fundamental defect, that it contrasts man and fate as two distinct things. Man, says this doctrine, may struggle against fate and try to baffle it, but in the end fate will always gain the victory. Hence the most rational course is to resign oneself or to live as one pleases. As a matter of fact, every man is himself a piece of fate. When he thinks that he is struggling against fate in this way, fate is accomplishing its ends even in that struggle. The combat is a fantasy, but so is the resignation in fate--all these fantasies are included in fate.--The fear felt by most people of the doctrine that denies the freedom of the will is a fear of the fatalism of the Turk. They imagine that man will become weakly resigned and will stand before the future with folded hands, because he cannot alter anything of the future. Or that he will give a free rein to his caprices, because the predestined cannot be made worse by that course. The follies of men are as much a piece of fate as are his wise actions, and even that fear of belief in fate is a fatality. You yourself, you poor timid creature, are that indomitable _Moira,_ which rules even the Gods; whatever may happen, you are a curse or a blessing, and in any case the fetters wherein the strongest lies bound: in you the whole future of the human world is predestined, and it is no use for you to be frightened of yourself. 2, 228-229

In the first era of the higher humanity courage is accounted the most noble virtue, in the next justice, in the third temperance, in the fourth wisdom. 2, 230

Superficial, inexact observation sees contrasts everywhere in nature (for instance, "hot and cold"), where there are no contrasts, only differences of degree. 2, 231

On two hypotheses alone is there any sense in prayer, that not quite extinct custom of olden times. It would have to be possible either to fix or alter the will of the godhead, and the devotee would have to know best himself what he needs and should really desire. Both hypotheses, axiomatic and traditional in all other religions, are denied by Christianity. 2, 235-233

Distrust is the touchstone for the gold of certainty. 2, 266

Wrath and punishment are our inheritance from the animals. Man does not become of age until he has restored to the animals this gift of the cradle.--Herein lies buried one of the mightiest ideas that men can have, the idea of a progress of all progresses.--Let us go forward together a few millenniums, my friends! There is still reserved for mankind a great deal of joy, the very scent of which has not yet been wafted to the men of our day! Indeed, we may promise ourselves this joy, nay summon and conjure it up as a necessary thing, so long as the development of human reason does not stand still. Some day we shall no longer be reconciled to the logical sin that lurks in all wrath and punishment, whether exercised by the individual or by society--some day, when head and heart have learnt to live as near together as they now are far apart. That they no longer stand so far apart as they did originally is fairly palpable from a glance at the whole course of humanity. The individual who can review a life of introspective work will become conscious of the _rapprochement_ arrived at, with a proud delight at the distance he has bridged, in order that he may thereupon venture upon more ample hopes. 2, 284-285

Natural death is independent of all reason and is really an irrational death, in which the pitiable substance of the shell determines how long the kernel is to exist.... 2, 286

The more fully and thoroughly we live, the more ready we are to sacrifice life for a single pleasurable emotion. 2, 288

All intellectual movements whereby the great may hope to rob and the small to save, are sure to prosper. 2, 311-312

The desire for victory and pre-eminence is an ineradicable trait of human nature, older and more primitive than any respect of or joy in equality. 2, 312

If all alms were given only out of compassion, the whole tribe of beggars would long since have died of starvation.... The greatest of almsgivers is cowardice. 2, 317

The exertion of power is laborious and demands courage. That is why so many do not assert their most valid rights, because their rights are a kind of power, and they are too lazy or too cowardly to exercise them. _Indulgence_ and _patience_ are the names given to the virtues that cloak these faults. 2, 319-320

"Stupid as a man," say the women; "Cowardly as a woman," say the men. Stupidity in a woman is unfeminine. 2, 328

All political work, even with great statesmen, is an improvisation that trusts to luck. 2, 332

The so-called armed peace that prevails at present in all countries is a sign of a bellicose disposition, of a disposition that trusts neither itself nor its neighbour, and, partly from hate, partly from fear, refuses to lay down its weapons. Better to perish than to hate and fear, and twice as far better to perish than to make oneself hated and feared--this must some day become the supreme maxim of every political community!... 2, 236

In order that property may henceforth inspire more confidence and become more moral, we should keep open all the paths of work for small fortunes, but should prevent the effortless and sudden acquisition of wealth. Accordingly, we should take all the branches of transport and trade which favour the accumulation of large fortunes--especially, therefore, the money market--out of the hands of private persons or private companies, and look upon those who own too much, just as upon those who own nothing, as types fraught with danger to the community. 2, 340

If we try to determine the value of labour by the amount of time, industry, good or bad will, constraint, inventiveness or laziness, honesty or make-believe bestowed upon it, the valuation can never be a just one. For the whole personality would have to be thrown into the scale, and this is impossible. 2, 340

The _exploitation_ of the worker was, as we now understand, a piece of folly, a robbery at the expense of the future, a jeopardisation of society. We almost have the war now, and in any case the expense of maintaining peace, of concluding treaties and winning confidence, will henceforth be very great, because the folly of the exploiters was very great and long-lasting. 2, 341

The masses are as far as possible removed from Socialism as a doctrine of altering the acquisition of property. If once they get the steering-wheel into their hands, through great majorities in their Parliaments, they will attack with progressive taxation the whole dominant system of capitalists, merchants, and financiers, and will in fact slowly create a middle class which may forget Socialism like a disease that has been overcome. 2, 343

The Two Principles of the New Life.--_First Principle:_ to arrange one's life on the most secure and tangible basis, not as hitherto upon the most distant, undetermined, and cloudy foundation. _Second Principle:_ to establish the rank of the nearest and nearer things, and of the more and less secure, before one arranges one's life and directs it to a final end. 2, 351

Through the certain prospect of death a precious, fragrant drop of frivolity might be mixed with every day life--and now, you singular druggist-souls, you have made of death a drop of poison, unpleasant to taste, which makes the whole of life hideous. 2, 355

We speak of Nature, and, in doing so, forget ourselves: we ourselves are Nature, _quand même_. 2, 356-357

We should not let ourselves be burnt for our opinions--we are not so certain of them as all that. But we might let ourselves be burnt for the right of possessing and changing our opinions. 2, 358

Man has been bound with many chains, in order that he may forget to comport himself like an animal. And indeed he has become more gentle, more intellectual, more joyous, more meditative than any animal. But now he still suffers from having carried his chains so long, from having been so long without pure air and free movement--these chains, however, are, as I repeat again and again, the ponderous and significant errors of moral, religious, and metaphysical ideas. Only when the disease of chains is overcome is the first great goal reached--the separation of man from the brute. 2, 362-363

III

"The Dawn of Day"

The first work to follow the transitional and preparatory criticism and comment of "Human, All-Too-Human" was "The Dawn of Day" ("_Morgen-röte_"). Such a treatise dealing with Nietzsche's constructive and analytical thinking, was no doubt expected. No man could so effectively rattle the bones of the older gods, could so wantonly trample down the tenets strengthened by the teachings of centuries, could so ruthlessly annihilate the accepted ethical standards and religious formulæ, unless there existed back of his bludgeon a positivity of will which implied creation and construction. Nietzsche realised the significance of this new book, and at its completion, early in 1881, sent an urgent letter to his publisher requesting its immediate printing. The publisher, however, failing to attach any importance to the document, delayed its issuance until late in the summer, at which time its appearance caused no excitement and but little comment.

"The Dawn of Day" nevertheless ranks among Nietzsche's best works. Its title, frankly symbolic, reflects the nature of its contents. It was the beginning of Nietzsche's positive philosophy. In it he begins his actual work of reconstruction. Many of its passages form the foundation of those later books wherein he augmented and developed his theories. However, there is here no radical change in his thought. The passages are logical sequences to that simple nihilism of prevailing customs which occupied him in his former essays. In his earliest beginnings we can see evidences of the direction his teachings were to take. His books up to the last were mainly developments and elaborations of the thoughts which were in his mind from the first. Though often vaguely conceived and unco-ordinated, these thoughts were the undeniable property of his own thinking. Although there have been many attempts to trace eclectic influences to the men of his time, and especially to Schopenhauer, the results of such critical endeavours have been easily controverted by the plainest of internal evidence. The philosophical Nietzsche has his roots firmly implanted in the scholastic Nietzsche; and though in superficial and non-important phases of his thought he changed from time to time, the most diligent research fails to reveal direct contradictions in any of his fundamental doctrines.

In "The Dawn of Day" Nietzsche goes again into the origin of morality. He carries his analyses further and supports them by additional enquiries and by more complicated processes of reasoning. Having ascertained the place which morals assume in the human scale and determined their relation to racial necessities, he points out that their application as permanent and unalterable mandates works havoc in any environment save that in which they were conceived. Inasmuch as all morality is at bottom but an expression of expediency, it follows that, since the means of expediency change under varying conditions, morality must change to meet the constantly metamorphosing conditions of society. And since the conditions of life are never the same in all nations, moral codes must likewise adapt themselves to geography in order to fulfil their function. The existing code of morals, namely: the Christian doctrine, grew out of conditions which were not only different from those in which we live to-day, but in many instances diametrically opposed to them. Nietzsche saw a grave danger in adhering to an ethical system which was not relative to the modern man, and argues that the result of such a morality would produce effects which would have no intelligent bearing on the racial problems of the present day. Knowing the deep-rooted superstition in man regarding the "divine" origin of moral laws, he undertakes the task of relating all ancient codes to the racial conditions existent at their inception, thus constructing a human origin for them.

Christianity, being the greatest moral force of the day, attracted Nietzsche's attention the most, and in "The Dawn of Day" much space is devoted to a consideration of it. While in tone these paragraphs are milder than those which followed in "The Antichrist," they nevertheless are among the profoundest criticisms which Nietzsche made of Nazarene morality. Though only a portion of the aphorisms contained in this work are devoted to an evaluation of theological modes of conduct, stumbling blocks are thrown in the path of an acceptance of Jewish ethics which the most sapient of modern ecclesiastics have been unable to remove. Out of certain aphorisms found here grew "The Antichrist" which is the most terrible and effective excoriation that Christianity has ever called forth. Beginning on page 66 of "The Dawn of Day" there appears one of Nietzsche's most fundamental passages dealing with Christianity. It is called "The First Christian," and is an analysis of the Apostle Paul. No theological dialectician has been able to answer it. Here is an aphorism so illuminating, so profound, yet so brief, as to dazzle completely the lay mind.

However, Christianity is but one of the subjects dealt with in "The Dawn of Day." The book covers the whole field of modern morality. Says Nietzsche in his introduction; "In this book we find a 'subterrestrial' at work, digging, mining, undermining.... I went down into the deepest depths; I tunnelled to the very bottom; I started to investigate and unearth an old _faith_ which for thousands of years we philosophers used to build on as the safest of all foundations.... I began to undermine our _faith in morals."_ It is true that from the beginning of history there has existed a ruling scale of values determining the acts of humanity. Morality implies the domination of certain classes which, in order to inspire reverence in arbitrary dictates, have invested their codes with an authority other than a human one. Thus has criticism been stifled. Morality has had the means of intimidation on its side, and has discouraged investigation by exercising severe penalties. Consequently morality has accumulated and grown, gathered power and swept on without its thinkers, its philosophers or its analysts. Of all the sciences, the science of conduct has been the last to attract investigators.

The vogue of that style of philosophy which was founded on the tradition of speculation and honeycombed with presuppositions, did not pass out until the advent of Darwin's evolutionism. But even the inauguration of biology and sociology did not entirely eliminate the metaphysical assumption from constructive thinking. The scientists themselves, not excluding Darwin, hesitated to acknowledge the laws of natural selection and of the survival of the fit. Neo-Lamarckism was but one of the reactions against this tough and unpleasant theory. Alfred Russel Wallace and, to take an even more significant figure, Herbert Spencer, endeavoured to refute the possibility of a biological basis in thought and thus to avoid an acquiescence to the Darwinian research. John Fiske, an avowed evolutionist, indirectly repudiated the scientific origin of philosophy; and likewise most of the lesser thinkers, following the exposition of Darwin's theories, refused to apply to man the biological laws governing the animal kingdom. Balfour and Huxley sensed the incongruities and variances in this new mode of thinking, and strove to bridge the chasm between natural science and human conduct, and to construct a system of ethics which would possess a logical and naturalistic foundation. But in both cases the question was begged. We find Balfour building up a moral system which, while it did not deny Darwinism, had for its end the destruction, or at least the alteration, of natural laws. And Huxley defines human progress as an overcoming of biological principles. Thus, even in the most materialistic of physio-psychologists, the subjugation of natural laws was the primary thesis. Biology, therefore, instead of being used as a basis to further philosophy, was considered an obstacle which philosophy had to overcome.

Nietzsche saw that a science of conduct based on natural and physiological laws was a possible and logical thing. And in him, for the first time in the history of philosophical thought, do we find a scholarly and at the same time an intellectual critic of authorised standards. The biological point of view was never lost sight of by him. If at times he seemed to abandon it, it was but for a brief period; he ever came back to it. Even his most abstract passages have their feet implanted in the fact that all phenomena are answerable to the law of vital fitness. Before the tribunal of biology Nietzsche arraigns and tries every phase of his thought, whether it deals with physical phenomena, ethical conduct or with abstract reasoning. Philosophy, for centuries divorced from science, is here clothed in the garments of scientific experimentation; a relationship is established between these two planes of rationalism and empiricism which have always been considered by other thinkers as detached and unrelated. Nor does Nietzsche ally himself, either consciously or unconsciously, with such philosophers as Bruno and Plato (who stood between the scientific thinkers on the one hand and the abstract dialecticians on the other), and attempt a formulation of a system of thought founded on intuitive processes. Such poetic conceptions had no fascination for him except as they were directly applicable to the problem of the universe. Those men who busied themselves with the mere theory of knowledge he held as supererogatory cobweb-spinners; and even in the realm of metaphysicians such as Descartes, Spinoza and Leibniz, he dallied but casually. His aim was to relate all thought to determinable values of life.

In his introduction Nietzsche calls morality the Circe of philosophies, and adds: "For, to what is it due that, from Plato onwards, all the philosophic architects in Europe have built in vain?" Later beneath his analysis--which never assumes the negative qualities of the metaphysical--the moral phenomenon goes to pieces, not by a few simple strokes, nor yet by the effrontery of cynicism or pessimism, but by the most careful and intricate surgery. He points out the great heretics of history as examples of the men who, looked at through the eyes of contemporaries, were "wicked" men, but who, under different environmental circumstances, were considered "good." He denies the static hypothesis on which morality is built, and postulates the theory that immorality is not without its place in the development of the reason. He is constantly attempting to translate the existing moral values into terms of their true nature, not necessarily into immoralities, but into natural unmoralities. The accepted virtues, such as pity, honesty, faith, obedience, service, loyalty and self-sacrifice, are questioned in their relation to racial needs; and modern attitudes toward all human activities are traced to their causes and judged as to their influence.

The research work in the present book differs from that contained in previous volumes. Heretofore Nietzsche indulged in inquiry without speculation; he dealt mainly with generalities. His analyses were along broad lines of human conduct. He confined himself for the most part to principles. But in "The Dawn of Day" these principles are balanced with existent morality. Specific modes of moral and ethical endeavour are weighed against expediency. Nietzsche presents a diagnosis of the fundamental nature of society to-day, and discovers many contradictions and inconsistencies between modern social needs and those virtues held in the highest reverence. He finds that deportmental means made use of by weak and subjugated peoples of ancient times to protect themselves against hostile invaders, are retained and practised to-day by nations whose position has been reversed to one of domination. In short, he points out that certain moralities have, by the alteration of national and racial conditions, become irrelevancies. Consequently there is often a compromise between ethical beliefs and ethical practices--a compromise made necessary by the demands of social intercourse. Even when the practice of these ancient moralities is conscientiously indulged in, Nietzsche denies their adequacy in coping with modern conditions, pointing out specific instances in which necessity and habit are constantly impinging. For instance, the softer virtues of a democratic and socialistic morality are shown to be desirable only in weakened nations where the hardier virtues of egotism, cruelty, efficiency, hard-mindedness, selfishness and retaliation would work directly against preservation.

Out of these conclusions grows a plea for individualism, and out of this individualism the superman can be seen rearing his head above the horizon of present-day humanity. The qualities of this man of the future are defined, and a finger is pointed along the necessary lines of racial culture. Nietzsche's first definite voicing of marriage ideals follows in the train of the superman's appearance, and the first comments of this philosopher in his criticism of woman are set down. In this latter regard Nietzsche has been unfairly interpreted by those who have considered his attitude toward woman superficially or without relating it to his general theories. It would be well therefore for the student to withhold judgment in this particular until the various elements of Nietzsche's philosophical system have been co-ordinated and understood. Woman plays an important, if small, part in his writings, and his passages dealing with women should be carefully weighed in conjunction with his theory of the superman.

In "The Dawn of Day" Nietzsche's conception of class distinction is defined and related to his later teachings. Throughout his analyses runs a subtle undercurrent of his doctrine, of social segregation which finds definite expression toward the end of the volume where modern socialism, with its altruism and philanthropy, is traced to its birth in Nazarene morality. In place of this present popular form of ethics Nietzsche proposes a social régime in which aristocratic culture will be set apart from mere utilitarian culture by very definite boundaries. He argues that not only is this disassociation in accord with the instincts of mankind, but that, as a workable theorem, it adequately answers the needs of present conditions. The slave-morality and the master-morality which he develops in his later works are defined tentatively and suggested by inference in many of the aphorisms. Out of this conception grew his dominant principle of the "will to power," and in "The Dawn of Day" we find this principle set forth in adequate definition for the first time, although the development of the idea is left till later. However, Nietzsche makes clear its point of divergence from the Schopenhauerian theory of the "will to live" as well as from the Darwinian theory of the survival of the fittest.

But it is not alone abstract theory that occupies the pages of this book. Nietzsche is never the mere metaphysician battling in an unreal world. There are few dark closets and secret passageways in his thought. Beyond a metaphysical hypothesis he does not go. He adheres to demonstrable formulas, and reasons along lines of strictest reality. The practical man he holds in high esteem, and constantly praises the advance of science. He devotes pages to the blowing to pieces of metaphysical air-castles. But, as I have previously pointed out, he is in no sense of the word a materialist; nor is his assumption of the world that of the realists. Life to Nietzsche is an eternal struggle toward--no goal. The lessons the world has to teach are as so much false doctrine. The meaning of life--the so-called absolute truth--is but a chimera. Intelligence is a process, not an ultimatum. The truth is mobile and dual, dependent on varying causes. In accepting the material world, Nietzsche does not grant it. In assuming natural laws, he denies them. In his adherence to logic and to the processes of cause and effect, he is accepting phantoms and inconsistencies, and yet it is along these lines that the race progresses.

In "The Dawn of Day" Nietzsche makes use of the same aphoristic style as that employed in "Human, All-Too-Human." (This broken, staccato form he uses throughout the remainder of his works, except in certain parts of "Thus Spake Zarathustra.") Each paragraph is captioned and deals with a specific phase of morality or with a definite critical attitude toward human conduct. Some of these paragraphs are scarcely a line in length--mere definitions or similes. Others extend over several pages. But they always pertain to a single idea. Occasionally they are in the form of a brief conversation; at other times they are short queries. One of these aphorisms is entitled "The Battle Dispensary of the Soul," and this is what follows: "What is the most efficacious remedy? Victory." That is all--brief, and perhaps, on first reading, inconsequent. But study it a moment, and you will find in it the nucleus of a great revolutionary doctrine. On the other hand, turn to aphorism 142, called "Sympathy," and you will discover several pages of flashing commentary. Out of the chaos of his style springs a feeling of plastic form. These brief paragraphs are not detached and desultory. They are pyramided on one another, and beneath them runs an undercurrent of unified thinking. When the end of the book is reached we have a carefully fabricated edifice, and we realise that each paragraph has been some necessary beam or decoration in its construction.

EXCERPTS FROM "THE DAWN OF DAY"

Morality is nothing else (and, above all, nothing more) than obedience to customs, of whatsoever nature they may be. But customs are simply the traditional way of acting and valuing. Where there is no tradition there is no morality; and the less life is governed by tradition, the narrower the circle of morality. The free man is immoral, because it is his _will_ to depend upon himself and not upon tradition: in all the primitive states of humanity "evil" is equivalent to "individual," "free," "arbitrary," "unaccustomed," "unforeseen," "incalculable." In such primitive conditions, always measured by this standard, any action performed--_not_ because tradition commands it, but for other reasons _(e.g.,_ on account of its individual utility), even for the same reasons as had been formerly established by custom--is termed immoral, and is felt to be so even by the very man who performs it, for it has not been done out of obedience to tradition. 14-15

Popular medicines and popular morals are closely related, and should not be considered and valued, as is still customary, in so different a way: both are most dangerous and make-believe sciences. 19

All those superior men, who felt themselves irresistibly urged on to throw off the yoke of some morality or other, had no other resource--_if they were not really mad--_than to feign madness, or actually to become insane. And this holds good for innovators in every department of life, and not only in religion and politics. 21

Every one who has hitherto overthrown a law of established morality has always at first been considered as a _wicked man:_ but when it was afterwards found impossible to re-establish the law, and people gradually became accustomed to the change, the epithet was changed by slow degrees. History deals almost exclusively with these _wicked men,_ who later on came to be recognised as _good men._ 28

A man who is under the influence of the morality of custom comes to despise causes first of all, secondly consequences, and thirdly reality, and weaves all his higher feelings (reverence, sublimity, pride, gratitude, love) _into an imaginary world:_ the so-called higher world. And even to-day we can see the consequences of this: wherever, and in whatever fashion, man's feelings are raised, that imaginary world is in evidence. 40

The history of the moral feelings is entirely different from the history of moral conceptions. The first-mentioned are powerful before the action, and the latter especially after it, in view of the necessity for making one's self clear in regard to them. 41

Trusting in our feelings simply means obeying our grandfather and grandmother more than the gods within _ourselves:_ our reason and experience. 41

The same impulse, under the impression of the blame cast upon it by custom, develops into the painful feeling of cowardice, or else the pleasurable feeling of _humility,_ in case a morality, like that of Christianity, has taken it to its heart and called it _good._ 43

_The origin becomes of less significance in proportion as we acquire insight into it;_ whilst things nearest to ourselves, around and within us, gradually begin to manifest their wealth of colours, beauties, enigmas, and diversity of meaning, of which earlier humanity never dreamed. 52

Only when man shall have acquired a knowledge of all things will he be able to know himself. For things are but the boundaries of man. 53

To whatever height mankind may have developed--and perhaps in the end it will not be so high as when they began!--there is as little prospect of their attaining to a higher order as there is for the ant and the earwig to enter into kinship with God and eternity at the end of their career on earth. What is to come will drag behind it that which has passed: why should any little star, or even any little species on that star, form an exception to that eternal drama? Away with such sentimentalities! 54

Those earnest, able, and just men of profound feelings, who are still Christians at heart, owe it to themselves to make one attempt to live for a certain space of time without Christianity! They owe it to _their faith_ that they should thus for once take up their abode "in the wilderness"--if for no other reason than that of being able to pronounce on the question as to whether Christianity is needful. 63

Christianity has the instinct of a hunter for finding out all those who may by hook or by crook be driven to despair--only a very small number of men can be brought to this despair. Christianity lies in wait for such as those, and pursues them. 65

The "demon" Eros becomes an object of greater interest to mankind than all the angels and saints put together, thanks to the mysterious Mumbo-Jumboism of the Church in all things erotic: it is due to the Church that love stories, even in our own time, have become the one common interest which appeals to all classes of people--with an exaggeration which would be incomprehensible to antiquity, and which will not fail to provoke roars of laughter in coming generations. 78

It is only those who never--or always--attend church that underestimate the dishonesty with which this subject is still dealt in Protestant pulpits; in what a clumsy fashion the preacher takes advantage of his security from interruption; how the Bible is pinched and squeezed; and how the people are made acquainted with every form of _the art of false reading._ 85

Christianity wants blindness and frenzy and an eternal swan-song above the waves under which reason has been drowned!... 90

What if God were not exactly truth, and if this were proved? And if he were instead of vanity, the desire for power, the ambitious, the fear, and the enraptured and terrified folly of mankind?... 93

One Becomes Moral--but not because one is moral! Submission to morals may be due to slavishness or vanity, egoism or resignation, dismal fanaticism or thoughtlessness. It may, again, be an act of despair, such as submission to the authority of a ruler; but there is nothing moral about it _per se._ 97

Morals are constantly undergoing changes and transformations, occasioned by successful crimes. 97

I deny morality in the same way as I deny alchemy, _i.e.,_ I deny its hypotheses; but I do not deny that there have been alchemists who believed in these hypotheses and based their actions upon them. I also deny immorality--not that innumerable people feel immoral, but that there is any true reason why they should feel so, should not, of course, deny--unless I were a fool--that many actions which are called immoral should be avoided and resisted; and in the same way that many which are called moral should be performed and encouraged; but I hold that in both cases these actions should be performed from motives other than those which have prevailed up to the present time. We must learn anew in order that at last, perhaps very late in the day, we may be able to do something more: feel anew. 100

It is a prejudice to think that morality is more favourable to the development of the reason than immorality. It is erroneous to suppose that the unconscious aim in the development of every conscious being (namely, animal, man, humanity, etc.) is its "great happiness"; on the contrary, there is a particular and incomparable happiness to be attained at every stage of our development, one that is neither high nor low, but quite an individual happiness. Evolution does not make happiness its goal; it aims merely at evolution, and nothing else. It is only if humanity had a universally recognised goal that we could propose to do this or that: for the time being there is no such goal. It follows that the pretensions of morality should not be brought into any relationship with mankind: this would be merely childish and irrational. It is quite another thing to recommend a goal to mankind: this goal would then be something that would depend upon our own will and pleasure. Provided that mankind in general agreed to adopt such a goal, it could then impose a moral law upon itself, a law which would, at all events, be imposed by their own free will. 105

Our duties are the claims which others have upon us. How did they acquire these claims? By the fact that they considered us as capable of making and holding agreements and contracts, by assuming that we were their like and equals, and by consequently entrusting something to us, bringing us up, educating us, and supporting us. 110

My rights consist of that part of my power which others have not only conceded to me, but which they wish to maintain for me. 111

The desire for distinction is the desire to subject one's neighbor.... 113

On this mirror--and our intellect is a mirror--something is going on that indicates regularity: a certain thing is each time followed by another certain thing. When we perceive this and wish to give it a name, we call it cause and effect,--fools that we are! as if in this we had understood or could understand anything! For, of course, we have seen nothing but the images of causes and effects, and it is just this figurativeness which renders it impossible for us to see a more substantial relation than that of sequence!... 129

Pity, in so far as it actually gives rise to suffering--and this must be our only point of view here--is a weakness, like every other indulgence in an injurious emotion. It increases suffering throughout the world, and although here and there a certain amount of suffering may be indirectly diminished or removed altogether as a consequence of pity, we must not bring forward these occasional consequences, which are on the whole insignificant, to justify the nature of pity which, as has already been stated, is prejudicial. Supposing that it prevailed, even if only for one day, it would bring humanity to utter ruin. In itself the nature of pity is no better than that of any other craving; it is only where it is called for and praised--and this happens when people do not understand what is injurious in it, but find in it a sort of joy--that a good conscience becomes attached to it; it is only then that we willingly yield to it, and do not shrink from acknowledging it. In other circumstances where it is understood to be dangerous, it is looked upon as a weakness; or, as in the case of the Greeks, as an unhealthy periodical emotion the danger of which might be removed by temporary and voluntary discharges. 144-145

You say that the morality of pity is a higher morality than that of stoicism? Prove it! But take care not to measure the "higher" and "lower" degrees of morality once more by moral yardsticks; for there are no absolute morals. So take your yardstick from somewhere else, and be on your guard!... 149

If, in accordance with the present definition, only those actions are moral which are done for the sake of others, and for their sake only, then there are no moral actions at all! If, in accordance with another definition, only those actions are moral which spring from our own free will, then there are no moral actions in this case either! What is it, then, that we designate thus, which certainly exists and wishes as a consequence to be explained? It is the result of a few intellectual blunders; and supposing that we were able to free ourselves from these errors, what would then become of "moral actions"? It is due to these errors that we have up to the present attributed to certain actions a value superior to what was theirs in reality: we separated them from "egoistic" and "non-free" actions. When we now set them once more in the latter categories, as we must do, we certainly reduce their value (their own estimate of value) even below its reasonable level, because "egoistic" and "non-free" actions have up to the present been undervalued owing to that alleged profound and essential difference. 158-159

If I were a god, and a benevolent god, the marriages of men would cause me more displeasure than anything else. 162

We ought publicly to declare invalid the vows of lovers, and to refuse them permission to marry: and this because we should treat marriage itself much more seriously, so that in cases where it is now contracted it would not usually be allowed in future! Are not the majority of marriages such that we should not care to have them witnessed by a third party? And yet this third party is scarcely ever lacking--the child--and he is more than the witness; he is the whipping-boy and scapegoat. 163