The Will to Power. Friedrich Nietzsche
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classes are in the van. We have elevated ourselves to honorable thoughts, even more, we determine what honor is on earth, "nobility." ... All of us today are advocates of life. We Immoralists are today the strongest power: the other great powers are in need of us ... we re-create the world in our own image. We have transferred the label " Chandala " to the priests, the backworldsmen, and to the deformed Christian society which has become associated with these people, together with creatures of like origin, the pessimists, Nihilists, romanticists of pity, criminals, and men of vicious habits the whole sphere in which the idea of "God" is that of Saviour. . . . We are proud of being no longer obliged to be liars, slanderers, and detractors of Life. . . .
117. The advance of the nineteenth century upon the eighteenth (at bottom we good Europeans are carrying on a war against the eighteenth century): 1 i ) " The return to Nature " is getting to be understood, ever more definitely, in a way which is quite the reverse of that in which Rousseau used the phrase away from idylls and operas! (2) Ever more decided, more anti-idealistic, more objective, more fearless, more industrious, more temperate, more suspicious of sudden changes. anti-revolutionary; (3) The question of bodily health is being pressed ever more decidedly in front of the health of " the soul ": the latter is regarded as a condition brought about by the former, and bodily health is believed to be, at least, the prerequisite to spiritual health.
118. If anything at all has been achieved, it is a more innocent attitude towards the senses, a happier, more favourable demeanour in regard to sensuality, resembling rather the position taken up by Goethe; a prouder feeling has also been developed in knowledge, and the "reine Thor" * meets with little faith.
119. We " objective people? It is not "pity" that opens up the way for us to all that is most remote and most strange in life and culture; but our Nihilism. 97 accessibility and ingenuousness, which precisely does not " pity," but rather takes pleasure in hun dreds of things which formerly caused pain (which in former days either outraged or moved us, or in the presence of which we were either hostile or indifferent). Pain in all its various phases is now interesting to us: on that account we are certainly not the more pitiful, even though the sight of pain may shake us to our foundations and move us to tears: and we are absolutely not inclined to be more helpful in view thereof. In this deliberate desire to look on at all pain and error, we have grown stronger and more powerful than in the eighteenth century; it is a proof of our increase of strength (we have drawn closer to the seventeenth and sixteenth centuries). But it is a profound mistake to regard our " romanticism " as a proof of our " beautified souls." We want stronger sensations than all coarser ages and classes have wanted. (This fact must not be con founded with the needs of neurotics and decadents; in their case, of course, there is a craving for pepper even for cruelty.) We are all seeking conditions which are eman cipated from the bourgeois, and to a greater degree from the priestly, notion of morality (every book which savors at all of priestdom and theology gives us the impression of pitiful niaiserie and mental indigence). " Good company," in fact, finds everything insipid which is not forbidden and con sidered compromising in bourgeois circles; and the case is the same with books, music, politics, and opinions on women.
120. The simplification of man in the nineteenth century (The eighteenth century was that of elegance, subtlety, and generous feeling). Not "return to nature "; for no natural humanity has ever existed yet. Scholastic, unnatural, and antinatural values are the rule and the beginning; man only reaches Nature after a long struggle he never turns his " back " to her. . . . To be natural means, to dare to be as immoral as Nature is. We are coarser, more direct, richer in irony towards generous feelings, even when we are be neath them. Our haute votte, the society consisting of our rich and leisured men, is more natural: people hunt each other, the love of the sexes is a kind of sport in which marriage is both a charm and an obstacle; people entertain each other and live for the sake of pleasure; bodily advantages stand in the first rank, and curiosity and daring are the rule. Our attitude towards knowledge is more natural; we are innocent in our absolute spiritual debauchery, we hate pathetic and hieratic manners, we delight in that which is most strictly prohibited, we should scarcely recognise any interest in knowledge if we were bored in acquiring it. Our attitude to morality is also more natural. Principles have become a laughing-stock; no one dares to speak of his " duty," unless in irony. But a helpful, benevolent disposition is highly valued. (Morality is located in instinct and the rest is despised. Besides this there are few points of honor.) Our attitude to politics is more natural: we see problems of power, of the quantum of power, against another quantum. We do not believe in a right that does not proceed from a power which is able to uphold it. We regard all rights as conquests. Our valuation of great men and things is more natural: we regard passion as a privilege; we can conceive of nothing great which does not involve a great crime; all greatness is associated in our minds with a certain standing-beyond-the-pale in morality. Our attitude to Nature is more natural: we no longer love her for her " innocence," her " reason," her " beauty," we have made her beautifully devilish and " foolish." But instead of despising her on that account, since then we have felt more closely related to her and more familiar in her presence. She does not aspire to virtue: we therefore respect her. Our attitude towards Art is more natural: we do not exact beautiful, empty lies, etc., from her; brutal positivism reigns supreme, and it ascer tains things with perfect calm. In short: there are signs showing that the European of the nineteenth century is less ashamed of his instincts; he has gone a long way towards acknowledging his unconditional naturalness and immorality, without bitterness: on the contrary, he is strong enough to endure this point of view alone. To some ears this will sound as though corruption had made strides: and certain it is that man has not drawn nearer to the " Nature " which Rousseau speaks about, but has gone one step farther in the civilisation before which Rousseau stood in horror. We have grown stronger, we have drawn nearer t the seventeenth century, more particularly to the taste which reigned towards its close (Dancourt, Le Sage, Renard).
121. Culture versus Civilization. culminating stages of culture and civilisation lie apart: one mutt not be led astray as regards the fundamental antagonism existing between culture and civilisa tion. From the moral standpoint, great peno in the history of culture have always been periods of corruption; while on the other hand, those periods in which man was deliberately and compulsorily tamed ("civilization") have always been periods of intolerance towards the most intellectual and most audacious natures. Civilization desires some thing different from what culture strives after: their aims may perhaps be opposed. . . .
122. What I warn people against: confounding the instincts of decadence" with those of humanity; Confounding the dissolving means of civilization and those which necessarily promote decadence, with culture; Confounding debauchery, and the principle, "laisser aller," with the Will to Power (the latter is the exact reverse of the former).
123. The unsolved problems which I set anew: the problem of civilisation, the struggle between Rous seau and Voltaire about the year 1760. Man becomes deeper, more mistrustful, more " immoral," stronger, more self-confident and therefore " more natural" , that is "progress." In this way, by a process of division of labour, the more evil strata and the milder and tamer strata of society get separated: so that the general facts are not visible at first sight. ... It is a sign of strength, and of the self-control and fascination of the strong, that these stronger strata possess the arts in order to make their greater powers for evil felt as something " higher" As soon as there is " progress " there is a Revaluation of the strengthened factors into the " good."
124. Man must have the courage of his natural instincts restored to him. The poor opinion he has of himself must be destroyed (not in the sense of the individual, but in the sense of the natural man . . .) The contradictions in things must be eradicated, after it has been well understood that we were responsible for them Social idiosyncrasies must be stamped out of existence (guilt, punishment, justice, honesty, freedom, love, etc. etc.) An advance towards " naturalness ": in all politi cal questions, even in the relations between parties, even in merchants , workmen s, or contractors parties, only questions of power come into play: " what one can do " is the first question, what one ought to do is only a secondary consideration.
125. Socialism or the tyranny of the meanest and the most brainless, that is to say, the superficial, the envious, and the mummers, brought to its zenith, is, as a matter of fact, the logical con clusion of " modern ideas " and their latent anarchy: but in the genial atmosphere of demo cratic well-being the capacity for