We have seen that his last piece of wisdom is: ‘Nothing is true; all is permissible.’ At bottom all those ethics are repugnant to me which say: ‘Do not do this! Renounce! Overcome self!’ ‘Self-command!’ Those ethical teachers who ... enjoin man to place himself in his own power induce thereby in him a peculiar disease.[402] And now let the following sentences be weighed: ‘Through auspicious marriage customs there is a continual increase in the power and pleasure of willing, in the will to command self.’ ‘Asceticism and puritanism are almost indispensable means of education and ennoblement, if a race desires to triumph over its plebeian origin, and raise itself at some time to sovereignty.’ ‘The essential and priceless feature of every morality is that it is a long constraint.’[403]
The characteristic of the over-human is his wish to stand alone, to seek solitude, to flee from the society of the gregarious. ‘He should be the greatest who can be the most solitary.’ ‘The lofty independent spirituality—the will to stand alone.... (Jenseits von Gut und Böse, pp. 154, 123.) ‘The strong are constrained by their nature to segregate, as much as the feeble are by theirs to aggregate’ (Zur Genealogie der Moral, p. 149). In opposition to this he teaches in other places: ‘During the longest interval in the life of humanity there was nothing more terrible than to feel one’s self alone’ (Die fröhliche Wissenschaft, p. 147). Again: ‘We at present sometimes undervalue the advantages of life in a community’ (Zur Genealogie der Moral, p. 59). We? That is a calumny. We value these advantages at their full worth. He alone does not value them who, in expressions of admiration, vaunts ‘segregation,’ i.e., hostility to the community and contempt of its advantages, as characterizing the strong.
At one time the primitive aristocratic man is the freely-roving, splendid beast of prey, the blond beast; at another: ‘these men are rigorously kept within bounds by morality, veneration, custom, gratitude, still more by reciprocal surveillance, by jealousy inter pares; and, on the other hand, in their attitude towards each other, inventive in consideration, self-command, delicacy, fidelity, pride, and friendship.’ Ay, if these be the attributes of ‘blond beasts,’ may someone speedily give us a society of ‘blond beasts’! But how does ‘morality, veneration, self-command,’ etc., accord with the ‘free-roving’ of the splendid beast of prey? That remains an unsolved enigma. It is true that Nietzsche, while making our mouths water by his description, adds to it this limitation: ‘Towards what lies beyond, where the stranger, and what is strange, begins, they are not much better than beasts of prey set free’ (Zur Genealogie der Moral, p. 21). But this is in reality no limitation. Every organized community regards itself, in respect of the rest of the world, as a conjoint unity, and does not accord to the foreigner, the man from without, the same rights as to a member of its own body. Rights, custom, consideration, are not extended to the stranger, unless he knows how to inspire fear and to compel a recognition of his rights. The progress in civilization, however, consists in the very fact that the boundaries of the community are continually enlarged, that which is strange and without rights or claim to consideration being constantly made to recede further and ever further. At first there existed in the horde reciprocal forbearance and right alone; then the feeling of solidarity extended itself to the tribe, the country, state, and race. At the present day there is an international law even in war; the best among contemporaries feel themselves one with all men, nay, no longer hold even the animal to be without rights; and the time will come when the forces of Nature will be the sole strange and external things which may be treated according to man’s need and pleasure, and in regard to which he may be the ‘freed beast of prey.’ The ‘deep’ Nietzsche is not capable, it is true, of comprehending a state of the case so simple and clear.
At one moment he makes merry over the ‘naïveté’ of those who believe in an original social contract (Zur Genealogie der Moral, p. 80), and then says (in the same book, p. 149): ‘If they’ (the strong, the born masters, the ‘species of solitary beasts of prey’) ‘unite, it is only with a view to a collective act of aggression, a collective satisfaction of their volition to exert their power, with much resistance from the individual conscience.’ With resistance or without, does not a ‘union for the purpose of a collective satisfaction’ amount to a relation of contract, the acceptation of which Nietzsche with justice terms ‘a naïveté’?
At one time ‘agony is something which inspires pity’ (Jenseits von Gut und Böse, p. 136), and a ‘succession of crimes is horrible’ (Zur Genealogie der Moral, p. 21); and then, again, the ‘beauty’ of crime is spoken of (Jenseits von Gut und Böse, p. 91), and complaint is made that ‘crime is calumniated’ (the same book, p. 123).
Examples enough have been given. I do not wish to lose myself in minutiæ and details, but I believe that I have demonstrated Nietzsche’s own contradiction of every single one of his fundamental assertions, most emphatically of the foremost and most important, viz., that the ‘I’ is the one real thing, that egoism alone is necessitated and justifiable.
If the conceits which he wildly ejaculates—as it were, shrieks forth—are examined somewhat more closely, we cannot but marvel at the profusion of fabulous stupidity and abecedarian ignorance they contain. It is thus he terms the system of Copernicus (Jenseits von Gut und Böse), ‘which has persuaded us, against all the senses, that the earth is not immovable,’ ‘the greatest triumph over the senses hitherto achieved on earth.’ Hence he does not suspect that the system of Copernicus has for its basis exact observation of the starry heavens, the movements of the moon and planets, and the position of the sun in the zodiac; that this system was, therefore, the triumph of exact sense-perceptions over sense-illusions—in other words, of attentiveness over fugacity and distraction. He believes that ‘consciousness developed itself under the pressure of the need of communication,’ for ‘conscious thought eventuates in words, i.e., in signs of communication, by which fact the origin of consciousness itself is revealed’ (Die fröhliche Wissenschaft, p. 280). He does not know, then, that animals without the power of speech also have a consciousness; that it is possible also to think in images, in representations of movement, without the help of a word, and that speech is not added to consciousness until very late in the course of development. The drollest thing is that Nietzsche very much fancies himself as a psychologist, and wishes most particularly to be esteemed as such! According to this profound man, socialism has its roots in the fact that ‘hitherto manufacturers and entrepreneurs lack those forms and signs of distinction of the higher races which alone make persons interesting; if they had in look and gesture the distinction of those born noble, there would, perhaps, be no socialism of the masses [!!]. For the latter are at bottom ready for slavery of every kind, on the condition that the higher class constantly legitimizes itself as higher, as born to command, by outward distinction’ [!!] (Die fröhliche Wissenschaft, p. 68). The concept ‘thou oughtest,’ the idea of duty, of the necessity of a definite measure of self-command, is a consequence of the fact that ‘at all times since men have existed, human herds have also existed, and always a very large number of those who obey relatively to the small number of those who command (Jenseits von Gut und Böse, p. 118). Anyone less incapable of thought than Nietzsche will understand that, on the contrary, human herds, those obeying and those commanding, were possible at all, only after and because the brain had acquired the power and capacity to elaborate the idea, ‘thou oughtest,’ i.e., to inhibit an impulse by a thought or a judgment. The descendant of mixed races ‘will on the average be a weaker being’ (Jenseits von Gut und Böse, p. 120); indeed, the ‘European Weltschmerz, the pessimism of the nineteenth century, is essentially the consequence of a sudden and irrational mixture of classes’; social classes, however, always ‘express differences of origin and of race as well’ (Zur Genealogie der Moral, p. 142). The most competent investigators are convinced, as we well know, that the crossing of one race with another is conducive to the progress of both, and is ‘the first cause of development.’[404] ‘Darwinism, with its incomprehensibly one-sided theory of the struggle for existence,’ is explained by Darwin’s origin. His ancestors were ‘poor and humble persons who were only too familiar with the difficulty of making both ends meet. Around the whole of English Darwinism there floats, as it were, the mephitic vapour of English over-population, the odour of humble life, of pinched and straitened circumstances’ (Die fröhliche Wissenschaft, p. 273). It is presumably known to all my readers that Darwin was a rich man, and was never compelled to follow any profession, and that, for at least three or four generations, his ancestors had lived in comfort.
Nietzsche lays special claim to extraordinary originality. He places this epigraph at the beginning of his Fröhliche Wissenschaft:
‘I live in a house that’s my own,
I’ve never in nought copied no one,
And at every Master I’ve had my laugh,
Who had not first laughed at himself.’