Beyond Good and Evil by Friedrich Nietzsche - HTML preview

Chapter IX. What Is Noble?

257. EVERY elevation of the type "man," has hitherto been the work of an aristocratic society and so it will always be--a society believing in a long scale of gradations of rank and  differences  of  worth  among  human  beings,  and  requiring  slavery  in  some  form  or other.  Without  the  PATHOS  OF  DISTANCE,  such  as  grows  out  of  the  incarnated difference of classes, out of the constant out-looking and down-looking of the ruling caste on subordinates and instruments, and out of their equally constant practice of obeying and commanding,  of  keeping  down  and  keeping  at  a  distance--that  other  more  mysterious pathos could never have arisen, the longing for an ever new widening of distance within the  soul  itself,  the  formation  of  ever  higher,  rarer,  further,  more  extended,  more comprehensive states, in short, just the elevation of the type "man," the continued "self- surmounting of man," to use a moral formula in a supermoral sense. To be sure, one must not  resign  oneself  to  any  humanitarian  illusions  about  the  history  of  the  origin  of  an aristocratic  society  (that  is  to  say,  of the  preliminary  condition  for  the  elevation  of the type  "man"):  the  truth  is  hard.  Let  us  acknowledge  unprejudicedly  how  every  higher civilization  hitherto  has  ORIGINATED!  Men  with  a  still  natural  nature,  barbarians  in every terrible sense of the word, men of prey, still in possession of unbroken strength of will  and  desire  for  power,  threw  themselves  upon  weaker,  more  moral,  more  peaceful races (perhaps trading or cattle-rearing communities), or upon old mellow civilizations in which the final vital force was flickering out in brilliant fireworks of wit and depravity. At the commencement, the noble caste was always the barbarian caste: their superiority did not consist first of all in their physical, but in their psychical power--they were more COMPLETE  men  (which  at  every  point  also  implies  the  same  as  "more  complete beasts").

258. Corruption--as the indication that anarchy threatens to break out among the instincts, and that the foundation of the emotions, called "life," is convulsed--is something radically different according to the organization in which it manifests itself. When, for instance, an aristocracy  like  that  of  France  at  the  beginning  of  the  Revolution,  flung  away  its privileges with sublime disgust and sacrificed itself to an excess of its moral sentiments, it was corruption:--it was really only the closing act of the corruption which had existed for  centuries,  by  virtue  of  which  that  aristocracy  had  abdicated  step  by  step  its  lordly prerogatives  and  lowered  itself  to  a  FUNCTION  of  royalty  (in  the  end  even  to  its decoration  and  parade-dress).  The  essential  thing,  however,  in  a  good  and  healthy aristocracy is that it should not regard itself as a function either of the kingship or the commonwealth,  but  as  the  SIGNIFICANCE  and  highest  justification  thereof--that  it should therefore accept with a good conscience the sacrifice of a legion of individuals, who, FOR ITS SAKE, must be suppressed and reduced to imperfect men, to slaves and instruments. Its fundamental belief must be precisely that society is NOT allowed to exist for its own sake, but only as a foundation and scaffolding, by means of which a select class of beings may be able to elevate themselves to their higher duties, and in general to a higher EXISTENCE: like those sun- seeking climbing plants in Java--they are called Sipo Matador,-- which encircle an oak so long and so often with their arms, until at last,  high above it, but supported by it, they can unfold their tops in the open light, and exhibit their happiness.

259. To refrain mutually from injury, from violence, from exploitation, and put one's will on  a  par  with  that  of  others:  this  may  result  in  a  certain  rough  sense  in  good  conduct among individuals when the necessary conditions are given (namely, the actual similarity of the individuals in amount of force and degree of worth, and their co-relation within one organization). As soon, however, as one wished to take this principle more generally, and  if  possible  even  as  the  FUNDAMENTAL  PRINCIPLE  OF  SOCIETY,  it  would immediately disclose what it really is--namely, a Will to the DENIAL of life, a principle of dissolution and decay. Here one must think profoundly to the very basis and resist all sentimental weakness: life itself is ESSENTIALLY appropriation, injury, conquest of the strange and weak, suppression, severity, obtrusion of peculiar forms, incorporation, and at the least, putting it mildest, exploitation;--but why should one for ever use precisely these  words  on  which  for  ages  a  disparaging  purpose  has  been  stamped?  Even  the organization within which, as was previously supposed, the individuals treat each other as equal--it takes place in every healthy aristocracy--must itself, if it be a living and not a dying  organization,  do  all  that  towards  other  bodies,  which  the  individuals  within  it refrain from doing to each other it will have to be the incarnated Will to Power, it will endeavour to grow, to gain ground, attract to itself and acquire ascendancy-- not owing to any morality or immorality, but because it LIVES, and because life IS precisely Will to Power. On no point, however, is the ordinary consciousness of Europeans more unwilling to be corrected than on this matter, people now rave everywhere, even under the guise of science, about coming conditions of society in which "the exploiting character" is to be absent--that sounds to my ears as if they promised to invent a mode of life which should refrain  from  all  organic  functions.  "Exploitation"  does  not  belong  to  a  depraved,  or imperfect and primitive society it belongs to the nature of the living being as a primary organic function, it is a consequence of the intrinsic Will to Power, which is precisely the Will   to   Life--Granting   that   as   a   theory   this   is   a   novelty--as   a   reality   it   is   the FUNDAMENTAL FACT of all history let us be so far honest towards ourselves!

260.  In  a  tour  through  the  many  finer  and  coarser  moralities  which  have  hitherto prevailed or still prevail on the earth, I found certain traits recurring regularly together, and connected with one another, until finally two primary types revealed themselves to me, and a radical distinction was brought to light. There is MASTER-MORALITY and SLAVE-MORALITY,--I  would  at  once  add,  however,  that  in  all  higher  and  mixed civilizations, there are also attempts at the reconciliation of the two moralities, but one finds still oftener the confusion and mutual misunderstanding of them, indeed sometimes their  close  juxtaposition--even  in  the  same  man,  within  one  soul.  The  distinctions  of moral  values  have  either  originated  in  a  ruling  caste,  pleasantly  conscious  of  being different from the ruled--or among the ruled class, the slaves and dependents of all sorts. In  the  first  case,  when  it  is  the  rulers  who  determine  the  conception  "good,"  it  is  the exalted, proud disposition which is regarded as the distinguishing feature, and that which determines the order of rank. The noble type of man separates from himself the beings in whom the opposite of this exalted, proud disposition displays itself he despises them. Let it at once be noted that in this first kind of morality the antithesis "good" and "bad" means  practically the same as "noble" and "despicable",--the antithesis "good" and "EVIL" is of a different origin. The cowardly, the timid, the insignificant, and those thinking merely of narrow utility are despised; moreover, also, the distrustful, with their constrained glances, the self- abasing, the dog-like kind of men who let themselves be abused, the mendicant flatterers,  and  above  all  the  liars:--it  is  a  fundamental  belief  of  all  aristocrats  that  the common people are untruthful.

"We truthful ones"--the nobility in ancient Greece called themselves. It is obvious that everywhere the designations of moral value were at first applied to MEN; and were only derivatively and at a later period applied to ACTIONS; it is a gross mistake, therefore, when historians of morals start with questions like, "Why have sympathetic actions been praised?" The noble type of man regards HIMSELF as a determiner of values; he does not  require  to  be  approved  of;  he  passes  the  judgment:  "What  is  injurious  to  me  is injurious in itself;" he knows that it is he himself only who confers honour on things; he is  a  CREATOR  OF  VALUES.  He  honours  whatever  he  recognizes  in  himself:  such morality equals self-glorification. In the foreground there is the feeling of plenitude, of power,  which  seeks  to  overflow,  the  happiness  of  high  tension,  the  consciousness  of  a wealth which would fain give and bestow:--the noble man also helps the unfortunate, but not--or  scarcely--out  of  pity,  but  rather  from  an  impulse  generated  by  the  super- abundance of power. The noble man honours in himself the powerful one, him also who has power over himself, who knows how to speak and how to keep silence, who takes pleasure in subjecting himself to severity and hardness, and has reverence for all that is severe  and  hard.  "Wotan  placed  a  hard  heart  in  my  breast,"  says  an  old  Scandinavian Saga: it is thus rightly expressed from the soul of a proud Viking. Such a type of man is even  proud  of  not  being  made  for  sympathy;  the  hero  of  the  Saga  therefore  adds warningly:

"He who has not a hard heart when young, will never have one." The noble and brave who  think  thus  are  the  furthest  removed  from  the  morality  which  sees  precisely  in sympathy,  or  in  acting  for  the  good  of  others,  or  in  DESINTERESSEMENT,  the characteristic of the moral; faith in oneself, pride in oneself, a radical enmity and irony towards "selflessness," belong as definitely to noble morality, as do a careless scorn and precaution  in  presence  of  sympathy  and  the  "warm  heart."--It  is  the  powerful  who KNOW how to honour, it is their art, their domain for invention. The profound reverence for age and for tradition--all law rests on this double reverence,-- the belief and prejudice in favour of ancestors and unfavourable to newcomers, is typical in the morality of the powerful;  and  if,  reversely,  men  of  "modern  ideas"  believe  almost  instinctively  in "progress" and the "future," and are more and more lacking in  respect for old age, the ignoble origin of these "ideas" has complacently betrayed itself thereby. A morality of the ruling class, however, is more especially foreign and irritating to present-day taste in the sternness  of  its  principle  that  one  has  duties  only  to  one's  equals;  that  one  may  act towards beings of a lower rank, towards all that is foreign, just as seems good to one, or "as the heart desires," and in any case "beyond good and evil": it is here that sympathy and similar sentiments can have a place.

The ability and obligation to exercise prolonged gratitude and prolonged revenge--both only within the circle of equals,-- artfulness in retaliation, RAFFINEMENT of the idea in friendship,  a  certain  necessity  to  have  enemies  (as  outlets  for  the  emotions  of  envy, quarrelsomeness, arrogance--in fact, in order to be a good FRIEND): all these are typical characteristics of the noble morality, which, as has been pointed out, is not the morality of "modern ideas," and is therefore at present difficult to realize, and also to unearth and disclose.--It   is   otherwise   with   the   second   type   of   morality,   SLAVE-MORALITY. Supposing that the abused, the oppressed, the suffering, the unemancipated, the weary, and those uncertain of themselves should moralize, what will be the common element in their moral estimates? Probably a pessimistic suspicion with regard to the entire situation of man will find expression, perhaps a condemnation of man, together with his situation. The slave has an unfavourable eye for the virtues of the powerful; he has a skepticism and distrust, a REFINEMENT of distrust of everything "good" that is there honoured--he would fain persuade himself that the very happiness there is not genuine. On the other hand, THOSE qualities which serve to alleviate the existence of sufferers are brought into prominence and flooded with light; it is here that sympathy, the kind, helping hand, the warm heart, patience, diligence, humility, and friendliness attain to honour; for here these are  the  most  useful  qualities,  and  almost  the  only  means  of  supporting  the  burden  of existence. Slave-morality is essentially the morality of utility.

Here  is  the  seat  of  the  origin  of  the  famous  antithesis  "good"  and  "evil":--power  and dangerousness  are  assumed  to  reside  in  the  evil,  a  certain  dreadfulness,  subtlety,  and strength, which do not admit of being despised. According to slave-morality, therefore, the "evil" man arouses fear; according to master-morality, it is precisely the "good" man who arouses fear and seeks to arouse it, while the bad man is regarded as the despicable being.   The   contrast   attains   its   maximum   when,   in   accordance   with   the   logical consequences  of  slave-morality,  a  shade  of  depreciation--it  may  be  slight  and  well- intentioned--at last attaches itself to the "good" man of this morality; because, according to the servile mode of thought, the good man must in any case be the SAFE man: he is good-natured,  easily  deceived,  perhaps  a  little  stupid,  un  bonhomme.  Everywhere  that slave-  morality  gains  the  ascendancy,  language  shows  a  tendency  to  approximate  the significations  of  the  words  "good"  and  "stupid."-  -A  last  fundamental  difference:  the desire  for  FREEDOM,  the  instinct  for  happiness  and  the  refinements  of  the  feeling  of liberty belong as necessarily to slave-morals and morality, as artifice and enthusiasm in reverence and devotion are the regular symptoms of an aristocratic mode of thinking and estimating.-- Hence we can understand without further detail why love AS A PASSION-- it  is  our  European  specialty--must  absolutely  be  of  noble  origin;  as  is  well  known,  its invention is due to the Provencal poet-cavaliers, those brilliant, ingenious men of the "gai saber," to whom Europe owes so much, and almost owes itself.

261.  Vanity  is  one  of  the  things  which  are  perhaps  most  difficult  for  a  noble  man  to understand: he will be tempted to deny it, where another kind of man thinks he sees it self-evidently. The problem for him is to represent to his mind beings who seek to arouse a good opinion of themselves which they themselves do not possess--and consequently also  do  not  "deserve,"--and  who  yet  BELIEVE  in  this  good  opinion  afterwards.  This seems to him on the one hand such bad taste and so self-disrespectful, and on the other  hand so grotesquely unreasonable, that he would like to consider vanity an exception, and is doubtful about it in most cases when it is spoken of. He will say, for instance: "I may be  mistaken  about  my  value,  and  on  the other  hand  may  nevertheless  demand  that  my value  should  be  acknowledged  by  others  precisely  as  I  rate  it:--that,  however,  is  not vanity  (but  self-conceit,  or,  in  most  cases,  that  which  is  called  'humility,'  and  also 'modesty')." Or he will even say: "For many reasons I can delight in the good opinion of others, perhaps because I love and honour them, and rejoice in all their joys, perhaps also because their good opinion endorses and strengthens my belief in my own good opinion, perhaps  because  the  good  opinion  of  others,  even  in  cases  where  I  do  not  share  it,  is useful to me, or gives promise of usefulness:--all this, however, is not vanity."

The man of noble character must first bring it home forcibly to his mind, especially with the aid of history, that, from time immemorial, in all social strata in any way dependent, the ordinary man WAS only that which he PASSED FOR:--not being at all accustomed to fix values, he did not assign even to himself any other value than that which his master assigned  to  him (it  is  the  peculiar  RIGHT  OF  MASTERS  to  create  values).  It  may  be looked  upon  as  the  result  of  an  extraordinary  atavism,  that  the  ordinary  man,  even  at present,  is  still  always  WAITING  for  an  opinion  about  himself,  and  then  instinctively submitting himself to it; yet by no means only to a "good" opinion, but also to a bad and unjust  one  (think,  for  instance,  of  the  greater  part  of  the  self-  appreciations  and  self- depreciations which believing women learn from their confessors, and which in general the believing Christian learns from his Church). In fact, conformably to the slow rise of the  democratic  social  order  (and  its  cause,  the  blending  of  the  blood  of  masters  and slaves),  the  originally  noble  and  rare  impulse  of  the  masters  to  assign  a  value  to themselves and to "think well" of themselves, will now be more and more encouraged and  extended;  but  it  has  at  all  times  an  older,  ampler,  and  more  radically  ingrained propensity  opposed  to  it--and  in  the  phenomenon  of  "vanity"  this  older  propensity overmasters the younger. The vain person rejoices over EVERY good opinion which he hears  about  himself  (quite  apart  from  the  point  of  view  of  its  usefulness,  and  equally regardless  of  its  truth  or  falsehood),  just  as  he  suffers  from  every  bad  opinion:  for  he subjects  himself  to  both,  he  feels  himself  subjected  to  both,  by  that  oldest  instinct  of subjection  which  breaks  forth  in  him.--It  is  "the  slave"  in  the  vain  man's  blood,  the remains of the slave's craftiness--and how much of the "slave" is still left in woman, for instance!--which seeks to SEDUCE to good opinions of itself; it is the slave, too, who immediately  afterwards  falls  prostrate  himself  before  these  opinions,  as  though  he  had not called them forth.--And to repeat it again: vanity is an atavism.

262.  A  SPECIES  originates,  and  a  type  becomes  established  and  strong  in  the  long struggle with essentially constant UNFAVOURABLE conditions. On the other hand, it is known   by   the   experience   of   breeders   that   species   which   receive   super-abundant nourishment,  and  in  general  a  surplus  of  protection  and  care,  immediately  tend  in  the most  marked  way  to  develop  variations,  and  are  fertile  in  prodigies  and  monstrosities (also  in  monstrous  vices).  Now  look  at  an  aristocratic  commonwealth,  say  an  ancient Greek  polis,  or  Venice,  as  a  voluntary  or  involuntary  contrivance  for  the  purpose  of REARING human beings; there are there men beside one another, thrown upon their own resources, who want to make their species prevail, chiefly because they MUST prevail, or  else run the terrible danger of being exterminated. The favour, the super-abundance, the protection are there lacking under which variations are fostered; the species needs itself as  species,  as  something  which,  precisely  by  virtue  of  its  hardness,  its  uniformity,  and simplicity  of  structure,  can  in  general  prevail  and  make  itself  permanent  in  constant struggle with its neighbours, or with rebellious or rebellion-threatening vassals.

The most varied experience teaches it what are the qualities to which it principally owes the fact that it still exists, in spite of all Gods and men, and has hitherto been victorious: these qualities it calls virtues, and these virtues alone it develops to maturity. It does so with  severity,  indeed  it  desires  severity;  every  aristocratic  morality  is  intolerant  in  the education of youth, in the control of women, in the marriage customs, in the relations of old and young, in the penal laws (which have an eye only for the degenerating): it counts intolerance itself among the virtues, under the  name  of "justice." A type with few, but very marked features, a species of severe, warlike, wisely silent, reserved, and reticent men (and as such, with the most delicate sensibility for the charm and nuances of society) is  thus  established,  unaffected  by  the  vicissitudes  of  generations;  the  constant  struggle with uniform UNFAVOURABLE conditions is, as already remarked, the cause of a type becoming stable and hard. Finally, however, a happy state of things results, the enormous tension is relaxed; there are perhaps no more enemies among the neighbouring peoples, and the means of life, even of the enjoyment of life, are present in superabundance. With one stroke the bond and constraint of the old discipline severs: it is no longer regarded as necessary, as a condition of existence--if it would continue, it can only do so as a form of LUXURY, as an archaizing TASTE.

Variations, whether they be deviations (into the higher, finer, and rarer), or deteriorations and   monstrosities,   appear   suddenly   on   the   scene   in   the   greatest   exuberance   and splendour; the individual dares to be individual and detach himself. At this turning-point of  history  there  manifest  themselves,  side  by  side,  and  often  mixed  and  entangled together, a magnificent, manifold, virgin-forest-like up-growth and up-striving, a kind of TROPICAL  TEMPO  in  the  rivalry  of  growth,  and  an  extraordinary  decay  and  self- destruction,  owing  to  the  savagely  opposing  and  seemingly  exploding  egoisms,  which strive with one another "for sun and light," and can no longer assign any limit, restraint, or  forbearance  for  themselves  by  means  of  the  hitherto  existing  morality.  It  was  this morality  itself  which  piled  up  the  strength  so  enormously,  which  bent  the  bow  in  so threatening a manner:--it is now "out of date," it is getting "out of date." The dangerous and   disquieting   point   has   been   reached   when   the   greater,   more   manifold,   more comprehensive  life  IS  LIVED  BEYOND  the  old  morality;  the  "individual"  stands  out, and is obliged to have recourse to his own law-giving, his own arts and artifices for self- preservation, self-elevation, and self-deliverance. Nothing but new "Whys," nothing but new "Hows," no common formulas any longer, misunderstanding and disregard in league with  each  other,  decay,  deterioration,  and  the  loftiest  desires  frightfully  entangled,  the genius of the race overflowing from all the cornucopias of good and bad, a portentous simultaneousness of Spring and Autumn, full of new charms and mysteries peculiar to the fresh, still inexhausted, still unwearied corruption. Danger is again present, the mother of morality, great danger; this time shifted into the individual, into the neighbour and friend, into the street, into their own child, into their own heart, into all the most personal and secret  recesses  of  their  desires  and  volitions.  What  will  the  moral  philosophers  who appear at this time have to preach? They discover, these sharp onlookers and loafers, that the end is quickly approaching, that everything around them decays and produces decay, that  nothing  will  endure  until  the  day  after  tomorrow,  except  one  species  of  man,  the incurably   MEDIOCRE.   The   mediocre   alone   have   a   prospect   of   continuing   and propagating themselves--they will be the men of the future, the sole survivors; "be like them! become mediocre!" is now the only morality which has still a significance, which still  obtains  a  hearing.--But  it  is  difficult  to  preach  this  morality  of  mediocrity!  it  can never avow what it is and what it desires! it has to talk of moderation and dignity and duty and brotherly love--it will have difficulty IN CONCEALING ITS IRONY!

263. There is an INSTINCT FOR RANK, which more than anything else is already the sign of a HIGH rank; there is a DELIGHT in the NUANCES of reverence which leads one to infer noble origin and habits. The refinement, goodness, and loftiness of a soul are put to a perilous test when something passes by that is of the highest rank, but is not yet protected by the awe of authority from obtrusive touches and incivilities: something that goes  its  way  like  a  living  touchstone,  undistinguished,  undiscovered,  and  tentative, perhaps voluntarily veiled and disguised. He whose task and practice it is to investigate souls, will avail himself of many varieties of this very art to determine the ultimate value of a soul, the unalterable, innate order of rank to which it belongs: he will test it by its INSTINCT FOR REVERENCE. DIFFERENCE ENGENDRE HAINE: the vulgarity of many a nature spurts up suddenly like dirty water, when any holy vessel, any jewel from closed shrines, any book bearing the marks of great destiny, is brought before it; while on the other hand, there is an involuntary silence, a hesitation of the eye, a cessation of all gestures, by which it is indicated that a soul FEELS the nearness of what is worthiest of respect. The way in which, on the whole, the reverence for the BIBLE has hitherto been maintained  in  Europe,  is  perhaps  the  best  example  of  discipline  and  refinement  of manners  which  Europe  owes  to  Christianity:  books  of  such  profoundness  and  supreme significance  require  for  their  protection  an  external  tyranny  of  authority,  in  order  to acquire the PERIOD of thousands of years which is necessary to exhaust and unriddle them.  Much  has  been  achieved  when  the  sentiment  has  been  at  last  instilled  into  the masses  (the  shallow-pates  and  the  boobies  of  every  kind)  that  they  are  not  allowed  to touch everything, that there are holy experiences before which they must take off their shoes  and  keep  away  the  unclean  hand--it  is  almost  their  highest  advance  towards humanity.  On  the  contrary,  in  the  so-called  cultured  classes,  the  believers  in  "modern ideas," nothing is perhaps so repulsive as their lack of shame, the easy insolence of eye and hand with which they touch, taste, and finger everything; and it is possible that even yet there is more RELATIVE nobility of taste, and more tact for reverence among the people, among the lower classes of the people, especially among peasants, than among the newspaper-reading DEMIMONDE of intellect, the cultured class.

264. It cannot be effaced from a man's soul what his ancestors have preferably and most constantly done: whether they were perhaps diligent economizers attached to a desk and a cash-box, modest and citizen-like in their desires, modest also in their virtues; or whether they were accustomed to commanding from morning till night, fond of rude pleasures and probably  of  still  ruder  duties  and  responsibilities;  or  whether,  finally,  at  one  time  or  another,  they  have  sacrificed  old  privileges  of  birth  and  possession,  in  order  to  live wholly for their faith--for their "God,"--as men of an inexorable and sensitive conscience, which blushes at every compromise. It is quite impossible for a man NOT to have the qualities  and  predilections  of  his  parents  and  ancestors  in  his  constitution,  whatever appearances may suggest to the contrary. This is the problem of race. Granted that one knows something of the parents, it is admissible to draw a conclusion about the child: any kind of offensive incontinence, any kind of sordid envy, or of clumsy self-vaunting--the three things which together have constituted the genuine plebeian type in all times--such must  pass  over  to  the  child,  as  surely  as  bad  blood;  and  with  the  help  of  the  best education  and  culture  one  will  only  succeed  in  DECEIVING  with  regard  to  such heredity.--And  what  else  does  education  and  culture  try  to  do  nowadays!  In  our  very democratic, or rather, very plebeian age, "education" and "culture" MUST be essentially the  art  of  deceiving--deceiving  with  regard  to  origin,  with  regard  to  the  inherited plebeianism in body and soul. An educator who nowadays preached truthfulness above everything  else,  and  called  out  constantly  to  his  pupils:  "Be  true!  Be  natural!  Show yourselves as you are!"--even such a virtuous and sincere ass would learn in a short time to  have  recourse  to  the  FURCA  of  Horace,  NATURAM  EXPELLERE:  with  what results?  "Plebeianism"  USQUE  RECURRET.  [FOOTNOTE:  Horace's  "Epistles,"  I.  X. 24.]

265. At the risk of displeasing innocent ears, I submit that egoism belongs to the essence of a noble soul, I mean the unalterable belief that to a being such as "we," other beings must naturally be in subjection, and have to sacrifice themselves. The noble soul accepts the  fact  of  his  egoism  without  question,  and  also  without  consciousness  of  harshness, constraint, or arbitrariness therein, but rather as something that may have its basis in the primary law of things:--if he sought a designation for it he would say: "It is justice itself." He  acknowledges  under  certain  circumstances,  which  made  him  hesitate  at  first,  that there are other equally privileged ones; as soon as he has settled this question of rank, he moves  among  those  equals  and  equally  privileged  ones  with  the  same  assurance,  as regards  modesty  and  delicate  respect,  which  he  enjoys  in  intercourse  with  himself--in accordance with an innate heavenly mechanism which all the stars understand. It is an ADDITIONAL instance of his egoism, this artfulness and self-limitation in intercourse with his equals--every star is a similar egoist; he honours HIMSELF in them, and in the rights  which  he  concedes  to  them,  he  has  no  doubt  that  the  exchange  of  honours  and rights, as the ESSENCE of all intercourse, belongs also to the natural condition of things. The  noble  soul  gives  as  he  takes,  prompted  by  the  passionate  and  sensitive  instinct  of requital, which is at the root of his nature. The notion of "favour" has, INTER PARES, neither  significance  nor  good  repute;  there  may  be  a  sublime  way  of  letting  gifts  as  it were light upon one from above, and of drinking them thirstily like dew-drops; but for those arts and displays the noble soul has no aptitude. His egoism hinders him here: in general,  he  looks  "aloft"  unwillingly