If you except the ascetic ideal, man, the animal man had no meaning.

His existence on earth contained no end; "What is the purpose of man

at all?" was a question without an answer; the _will_ for man and the

world was lacking; behind every great human destiny rang as a refrain

a still greater "Vanity!" The ascetic ideal simply means this: that

something _was lacking_, that a tremendous _void_ encircled man--he did

not know how to justify himself, to explain himself, to affirm himself,

he _suffered_ from the problem of his own meaning. He suffered also in

other ways, he was in the main a _diseased_ animal; but his problem

was not suffering itself, but the lack of an answer to that crying

question, "_To what purpose_ do we suffer?" Man, the bravest animal

and the one most inured to suffering, does _not_ repudiate suffering in

itself: he _wills_ it, he even seeks it out, provided that he is shown

a meaning for it, a _purpose_ of suffering. _Not_ suffering, but the

senselessness of suffering was the curse which till then lay spread

over humanity--_and the ascetic ideal gave it a meaning!_ It was up

till then the only meaning; but any meaning is better than no meaning;

the ascetic ideal was in that connection the _"faute de mieux" par

excellence_ that existed at that time. In that ideal suffering _found

an explanation_; the tremendous gap seemed filled; the door to all

suicidal Nihilism was closed. The explanation--there is no doubt about

it--brought in its train new suffering, deeper, more penetrating, more

venomous, gnawing more brutally into life: it brought all suffering

under the perspective of _guilt_; but in spite of all that--man was

_saved_ thereby, he had a _meaning_, and from henceforth was no more

like a leaf in the wind, a shuttle-cock of chance, of nonsense, he

could now "will" something--absolutely immaterial to what end, to what

purpose, with what means he wished: _the will itself was saved_. It

is absolutely impossible to disguise _what_ in point of fact is made

clear by every complete will that has taken its direction from the

ascetic ideal: this hate of the human, and even more of the animal,

and more still of the material, this horror of the senses, of reason

itself, this fear of happiness and beauty, this desire to get right

away from all illusion, change, growth, death, wishing and even

desiring--all this means--let us have the courage to grasp it--a will

for Nothingness, a will opposed to life, a repudiation of the most

fundamental conditions of life, but it is and remains _a will_!--and

to say at the end that which I said at the beginning--man will wish

_Nothingness_ rather than not wish _at all_.

[1] An allusion to the celebrated monologue in William Tell.

[2] Mistress Sly.--Tr.

[3] In the German text "Heiland." This has the double meaning of

"healer" and "saviour."--H. B. S.

[4] "Horrible beast."

[5] "Here I stand! I cannot help myself. God help me! Amen"--were

Luther's words before the Reichstag at Worms.--H. B. S.

[6] E.g. Lectureships.

[7] An allusion to the well-known patriotic song.--H. B. S.

PEOPLES AND COUNTRIES. Translated by J. M. KENNEDY.

[The following twenty-seven fragments were intended by Nietzsche to

form a supplement to Chapter VIII. of _Beyond Good and Evil_, dealing

with Peoples and Countries.]

1.

The Europeans now imagine themselves as representing, in the main, the

highest types of men on earth.

2.

A characteristic of Europeans: inconsistency between word and deed;

the Oriental is true to himself in daily life. How the European has

established colonies is explained by his nature, which resembles that

of a beast of prey.

This inconsistency is explained by the fact that Christianity has

abandoned the class from which it sprang.

This is the difference between us and the Hellenes: their morals grew

up among the governing castes. Thucydides' morals are the same as those

that exploded everywhere with Plato.

Attempts towards honesty at the Renaissance, for example: always for

the benefit of the arts. Michael Angelo's conception of God as the

"Tyrant of the World" was an honest one.

3.

I rate Michael Angelo higher than Raphael, because, through all the

Christian clouds and prejudices of his time, he saw the ideal of a

culture _nobler_ than the Christo-Raphaelian: whilst Raphael truly

and modestly glorified only the values handed down to him, and did

not carry within himself any inquiring, yearning instincts. Michael

Angelo, on the other hand, saw and felt the problem of the law-giver of

new values: the problem of the conqueror made perfect, who first had

to subdue the "hero within himself," the man exalted to his highest

pedestal, master even of his pity, who mercilessly shatters and

annihilates everything that does not bear his own stamp, shining in

Olympian divinity. Michael Angelo was naturally only at certain moments

so high and so far beyond his age and Christian Europe: for the most

part he adopted a condescending attitude towards the eternal feminine

in Christianity; it would seem, indeed, that in the end he broke down

before her, and gave up the ideal of his most inspired hours. It was

an ideal which only a man in the strongest and highest vigour of life

could bear; but not a man advanced in years! Indeed, he would have had

to demolish Christianity with his ideal! But he was not thinker and

philosopher enough for that Perhaps Leonardo da Vinci alone of those

artists had a really super-Christian outlook. He knows the East, the

"land of dawn," within himself as well as without himself. There is

something super-European and silent in him: a characteristic of every

one who has seen too wide a circle of things good and bad.

4.

How much we have learnt and learnt anew in fifty years! The whole

Romantic School with its belief in "the people" is refuted! No Homeric

poetry as "popular" poetry! No deification of the great powers of

Nature! No deduction from language-relationship to race-relationship!

No "intellectual contemplations" of the supernatural! No truth

enshrouded in religion!

The problem of truthfulness is quite a new one. I am astonished. From

this standpoint we regard such natures as Bismarck as culpable out of

carelessness, such as Richard Wagner out of want of modesty; we would

condemn Plato for his _pia fraus_, Kant for the derivation of his

Categorical Imperative, his own belief certainly not having come to him

from this source.

Finally, even doubt turns against itself: doubt in doubt. And the

question as to the _value_ of truthfulness and its extent lies _there_.

5.

What I observe with pleasure in the German is his Mephistophelian

nature; but, to tell the truth, one must have a higher conception of

Mephistopheles than Goethe had, who found it necessary to _diminish_

his Mephistopheles in order to magnify his "inner Faust." The true

German Mephistopheles is much more dangerous, bold, wicked, and

cunning, and consequently more open-hearted: remember the nature

of Frederick the Great, or of that much greater Frederick, the

Hohenstaufen, Frederick II.

The real German Mephistopheles crosses the Alps, and believes that

everything there belongs to him. Then he recovers himself, like

Winckelmann, like Mozart. He looks upon Faust and Hamlet as

caricatures, invented to be laughed at, and upon Luther also. Goethe

had his good German moments, when he laughed inwardly at all these

things. But then he fell back again into his cloudy moods.

6.

Perhaps the Germans have only grown up in a wrong climate! There is

something in them that might be Hellenic!--something that is awakened

when they are brought into touch with the South--Winckelmann, Goethe,

Mozart. We should not forget, however, that we are still young. Luther

is still our last event; our last book is still the Bible. The Germans

have never yet "moralised." Also, the very food of the Germans was

their doom: its consequence, Philistinism.

7.

The Germans are a dangerous people: they are experts at inventing

intoxicants. Gothic, rococo (according to Semper), the historical sense

and exoticism, Hegel, Richard Wagner--Leibniz, too (dangerous at the

present day)--(they even idealised the serving soul as the virtue of

scholars and soldiers, also as the simple mind). The Germans may well

be the most composite people on earth.

"The people of the Middle," the inventors of porcelain, and of a kind

of Chinese breed of Privy Councillor.

8.

The smallness and baseness of the German soul were not and are not

consequences of the system of small states; for it is well known that

the inhabitants of much smaller states were proud and independent:

and it is not a large state _per se_ that makes souls freer and more

manly. The man whose soul obeys the slavish command: "Thou shalt and

must kneel!" in whose body there is an involuntary bowing and scraping

to titles, orders, gracious glances from above--well, such a man

in an "Empire" will only bow all the more deeply and lick the dust

more fervently in the presence of the greater sovereign than in the

presence of the lesser: this cannot be doubted. We can still see in the

lower classes of Italians that aristocratic self-sufficiency; manly

discipline and self-confidence still form a part of the long history

of their country: these are virtues which once manifested themselves

before their eyes. A poor Venetian gondolier makes a far better figure

than a Privy Councillor from Berlin, and is even a better man in the

end--any one can see this. Just ask the women.

9.

Most artists, even some of the greatest (including the historians) have

up to the present belonged to the serving classes (whether they serve

people of high position or princes or women or "the masses"), not to

speak of their dependence upon the Church and upon moral law. Thus

Rubens portrayed the nobility of his age; but only according to their

vague conception of taste, not according to his own measure of beauty

on the whole, therefore, against his own taste. Van Dyck was nobler in

this respect: who in all those whom he painted added a certain amount

of what he himself most highly valued: he did not descend from himself,

but rather lifted up others to himself when he "rendered."

The slavish humility of the artist to his public (as Sebastian Bach has

testified in undying and outrageous words in the dedication of his High

Mass) is perhaps more difficult to perceive in music; but it is all the

more deeply engrained. A hearing would be refused me if I endeavoured

to impart my views on this subject. Chopin possesses distinction, like

Van Dyck. The disposition of Beethoven is that of a proud peasant;

of Haydn, that of a proud servant. Mendelssohn, too, possesses

distinction--like Goethe, in the most natural way in the world.

10.

We could at any time have counted on the fingers of one hand those

German learned men who possessed wit: the remainder have understanding,

and a few of them, happily, that famous "childlike character"

which divines.... It is our privilege: with this "divination" German

science has discovered some things which we can hardly conceive of, and

which, after all, do not exist, perhaps. It is only the Jews among the

Germans who do not "divine" like them.

11.

As Frenchmen reflect the politeness and _esprit_ of French society,

so do Germans reflect something of the deep, pensive earnestness of

their mystics and musicians, and also of their silly childishness. The

Italian exhibits a great deal of republican distinction and art, and

can show himself to be noble and proud without vanity.

12.

A larger number of the higher and better-endowed men will, I hope, have

in the end so much self-restraint as to be able to get rid of their bad

taste for affectation and sentimental darkness, and to turn against

Richard Wagner as much as against Schopenhauer. These two Germans are

leading us to ruin; they flatter our dangerous qualities. A stronger

future is prepared for us in Goethe, Beethoven, and Bismarck than in

these racial aberrations. We have had no philosophers yet.

13.

The peasant is the commonest type of noblesse, for he is dependent upon

himself most of all. Peasant blood is still the best blood in Germany

--for example, Luther, Niebuhr, Bismarck.

Bismarck a Slav. Let any one look upon the face of Germans. Everything

that had manly, exuberant blood in it went abroad. Over the smug

populace remaining, the slave-souled people, there came an improvement

from abroad, especially by a mixture of Slavonic blood.

The Brandenburg nobility and the Prussian nobility in general (and the

peasant of certain North German districts), comprise at present the

most manly natures in Germany.

That the manliest men shall rule: this is only the natural order of

things.

14.

The future of German culture rests with the sons of the Prussian

officers.

15.

There has always been a want of wit in Germany, and mediocre heads

attain there to the highest honours, because even they are rare. What

is most highly prized is diligence and perseverance and a certain

cold-blooded, critical outlook, and, for the sake of such qualities,

German scholarship and the German military system have become paramount

in Europe.

16.

Parliaments may be very useful to a strong and versatile statesman:

he has something there to rely upon (every such thing must, however,

be able to resist!)--upon which he can throw a great deal of

responsibility. On the whole, however, I could wish that the counting

mania and the superstitious belief in majorities were not established

in Germany, as with the Latin races, and that one could finally invent

something new even in politics! It is senseless and dangerous to let

the custom of universal suffrage--which is still but a short time under

cultivation, and could easily be uprooted--take a deeper root: whilst,

of course, its introduction was merely an expedient to steer clear of

temporary difficulties.

17.

Can any one interest himself in this German Empire? Where is the new

thought? Is it only a new combination of power? All the worse, if it

does not know its own mind. Peace and laisser aller are not types of

politics for which I have any respect. Ruling, and helping the highest

thoughts to victory--the only things that can make me interested in

Germany. England's small-mindedness is the great danger now on earth.

I observe more inclination towards greatness in the feelings of the

Russian Nihilists than in those of the English Utilitarians. We require

an intergrowth of the German and Slav races, and we require, too, the

cleverest financiers, the Jews, for us to become masters of the world.

(a) The sense of reality.

(b) A giving-up of the English principle of the people's right of

representation. We require the representation of the great interests.

(c) We require an unconditional union with Russia, together with a

mutual plan of action which shall not permit any English schemata to

obtain the mastery in Russia. No American future!

(d) A national system of politics is untenable, and embarrassment by

Christian views is a very great evil. In Europe all sensible people are

sceptics, whether they say so or not.

18.

I see over and beyond all these national wars, new "empires," and

whatever else lies in the foreground. What I am concerned with--for I

see it preparing itself slowly and hesitatingly--is the United Europe.

It was the only real work, the one impulse in the souls, of all the

broad-minded and deep-thinking men of this century--this preparation

of a new synthesis, and the tentative effort to anticipate the future

of "the European." Only in their weaker moments, or when they grew

old, did they fall back again into the national narrowness of the

"Fatherlanders"--then they were once more "patriots." I am thinking

of men like Napoleon, Heinrich Heine, Goethe, Beethoven, Stendhal,

Schopenhauer. Perhaps Richard Wagner likewise belongs to their number,

concerning whom, as a successful type of German obscurity, nothing can

be said without some such "perhaps."

But to the help of such minds as feel the need of a new unity there

comes a great explanatory economic fact: the small States of Europe--I

refer to all our present kingdoms and "empires"--will in a short time

become economically untenable, owing to the mad, uncontrolled struggle

for the possession of local and international trade. Money is even

now compelling European nations to amalgamate into one Power. In

order, however, that Europe may enter into the battle for the mastery

of the world with good prospects of victory (it is easy to perceive

against whom this battle will be waged), she must probably "come to

an understanding" with England. The English colonies are needed for

this struggle, just as much as modern Germany, to play her new rôle of

broker and middleman, requires the colonial possessions of Holland.

For no one any longer believes that England alone is strong enough to

continue to act her old part for fifty years more; the impossibility

of shutting out _homines novi_ from the government will ruin her, and

her continual change of political parties is a fatal obstacle to the

carrying out of any tasks which require to be spread out over a long

period of time. A man must to-day be a soldier first and foremost that

he may not afterwards lose his credit as a merchant. Enough; here,

as in other matters, the coming century will be found following in

the footsteps of Napoleon--the first man, and the man of greatest

initiative and advanced views, of modern times. For the tasks of the

next century, the methods of popular representation and parliaments are

the most inappropriate imaginable.

19.

The condition of Europe in the next century will once again lead to the

breeding of manly virtues, because men will live in continual danger.

Universal military service is already the curious antidote which we

possess for the effeminacy of democratic ideas, and it has grown up out

of the struggle of the nations. (Nation--men who speak one language

and read the same newspapers. These men now call themselves "nations,"

and would far too readily trace their descent from the same source and

through the same history; which, however, even with the assistance of

the most malignant lying in the past, they have not succeeded in

doing.)

20.

What quagmires and mendacity must there be about if it is possible,

in the modern European hotch-potch, to raise questions of "race"! (It

being premised that the origin of such writers is not in Horneo and

Borneo.)

21.

Maxim: To associate with no man who takes any part in the mendacious

race swindle.

22.

With the freedom of travel now existing, groups of men of the same

kindred can join together and establish communal habits and customs.

The overcoming of "nations."

23.

To make Europe a centre of culture, national stupidities should not

make us blind to the fact that in the higher regions there is already a

continuous reciprocal dependence. France and German philosophy. Richard

Wagner and Paris (1830-50). Goethe and Greece. All things are impelled

towards, a synthesis of the European past in the highest types of mind.

24.

Mankind has still much before it--how, generally speaking, could

the ideal be taken from the past? Perhaps merely in relation to the

present, which latter is possibly a lower region.

25.

This is our distrust, which recurs again and again; our care, which

never lets us sleep; our question, which no one listens to or wishes

to listen to; our Sphinx, near which there is more than one precipice:

we believe that the men of present-day Europe are deceived in regard

to the things which we love best, and a pitiless demon (no, not

pitiless, only indifferent and puerile)--plays with our hearts and

their enthusiasm, as it may perhaps have already played with everything

that lived and loved; I believe that everything which we Europeans

of to-day are in the habit of admiring as the values of all these

respected things called "humanity," "mankind," "sympathy," "pity," may

be of some value as the debilitation and moderating of certain powerful

and dangerous primitive impulses. Nevertheless, in the long run all

these things are nothing else than the belittlement of the entire type

"man," his mediocrisation, if in such a desperate situation I may make

use of such a desperate expression. I think that the commedia umana for

an epicurean spectator-god must consist in this: that the Europeans, by

virtue of their growing morality, believe in all their innocence and

vanity that they are rising higher and higher, whereas the truth is

that they are sinking lower and lower--i.e. through the cultivation of

all the virtues which are useful to a herd, and through the repression

of the other and contrary virtues which give rise to a new, higher,

stronger, masterful race of men--the first-named virtues merely develop

the herd-animal in man and stabilitate the animal "man," for until now

man has been "the animal as yet unstabilitated."

26.

Genius and Epoch.--Heroism is no form of selfishness, for one is

shipwrecked by it.... The direction of power is often conditioned by

the state of the period in which the great man happens to be born; and

this fact brings about the superstition that he is the expression of

his time. But this same power could be applied in several different

ways; and between him and his time there is always this difference:

that public opinion always worships the herd instinct,--_i.e._ the

instinct of the weak,--while he, the strong man, rights for strong

ideals.

27.

The fate now overhanging Europe is simply this: that it is exactly

her strongest sons that come rarely and late to the spring-time of

their existence; that, as a rule, when they are already in their early

youth they perish, saddened, disgusted, darkened in mind, just because

they have already, with the entire passion of their strength, drained

to the dregs the cup of disillusionment, which in our days means the

cup of knowledge, and they would not have been the strongest had

they not also been the most disillusionised. For that is the test of

their power--they must first of all rise out of the illness of their

epoch to reach their own health. A late spring-time is their mark of

distinction; also, let us add, late merriment, late folly, the late

exuberance of joy! For this is the danger of to-day: everything that we

loved when we were young has betrayed us. Our last love--the love which

makes us acknowledge her, our love for Truth--let us take care that

she, too, does not betray us!

The Genealogy of Morals The Complete Works, Volume Thirteen, edited by Dr. Oscar Levy. · 第 13 / 13 段