THE USE AND ABUSE OF HISTORY FRIEDRICH NIETZSCHEFriedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche: 1844-1900 CONTENTS THE USE AND ABUSE OF HISTORY corynicur @ 19, 1857 ‘THE LIBERAL ARTS PRESS, INC, ‘Bignen PrintingSELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY ‘Nuerascur's Mayon Worss The Birth of Trogedy (Die Geburt der Tragddie) 1872. Thoughts out of Season (Unseilgemisse Betrachtengen), 1873 16. Inclodes "The Use and Abuse of History.” Hunan, AU Too Human (Menschlisches, AUsumenschliches) 1878, The Dawn of Day (Morgensdte), 1881. ‘Thus Spake Zarathustra (Abo sprach Zarathustra), 1885. Beyond Good and Evil (Jenseits von Gut und Base), 1855. The Genealogy of Morals (Zur Genealogie der Moral, 1887. Toilight of the Idols (Gétxendémmerung), 1889. Poxthumously published: Ecce Homo, 1908. The Will to Power (Der Wille sur Macht), 1910, ‘The Complete Works of Priedrich Nietzche, ed. by Ovear ‘Levy. 18 vols London, 1908.13. The authorized English ei- tion. The foregoing English titles of Nietache's works are those of the Levy eition. Cottarenat, READING Brandes, Georg, Friedsich Nietache. Tr. by A. G. Chates, Lon- don, 1900, Brinton, Crane. Nietsche. Cambridge, Mast, 1941. Figgis, John N. The Will to Freedom; or the Gospel of DNieisiche and the Gospel of Christ. London, 1917. Halevy, Daniel. The Life of Friedrich Nietsche, Tr. by J. M. Hone. London, 1911. Jaspers, Kash Nietasche. Berlin, 1936 ‘Mage, M.A. Friedrich Nietziche. London, 1911 Stewart, H. Leslie. Nietsche and the Ideals of Modern Ger: ‘many. London, 1915 EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION Nictsche's fame is undisputed, but the character and signifi cance of his work are still highly controversi ‘Thus Thomas Mann, in a recent essay on "Nietache's Phi losophy in the Light of Our Experience” (1948), speaks of a Nietache“fascination” and calls him "the greatest philosopher of the Iate nineteenth century.” A lese famous but certainly ro less serious author, a courageous Austrian ph ‘Thirtng, calls Niewsche, in a straightforward, thoughefal book, AntiNietasche, AntiSpengler (1947), “a not ungifted post but no thinker stall” What is here dispuced is apparently not the Nietzsche: “fascination” but Niecrche's standing as » philosopher, a sri ‘ous problem which cannot be disposed of by so-all scholarly ‘or journalistic expasitions of Niewsche’s volcano of ideas Nietasche's gospel of the will to power has exercised sich 2 dominating influence on the cultura! and political upheavals of the las decade that "fascination" is preceey the right word forthe overwhelming foree of Niewsche's appeal. The infivence of Nietache’s power-voluntarism on refined individvalities and fon les refined mastes and their leaders has certainly not made life on this earth more dignified. On the contrary, it has un- leashed bestiality in the name of the sanctity of the animal in man, There is, thus, every reason to be suspiciously and riccaly on guard against the "Yascnation” of Nietache’s work. But Nietache’s work is far more than a highly important ‘object of philouophical, psychological, and historial criticism. I is ako a source of powerful intellectual stimulation for sensitive and discriminating minds. Ic is true, Nietzche wat nota systematic thinker. More than that, a radical confusion between philology, poesry, history, and philosophy is typieat of his writing. Any philosophically disciplined mind will detect this confusion on almost every page of Nicusche’s books and ‘says. Yet all his utterances Ive a note of tuniistakable wuoriginality and captivate again and again by their lightning strokes of psychological, philosophical, historical, and politcal in spite oftheir being clothed in a language of pars consistencies, and prophetic selfcomplacency. ‘More chan sparks of penetrating judgment, a constructive ‘whole of independently found, courageously and brilliantly presented ideas is contained in the present essay, the original fide of which is: Vom Nuteen und Nachteil dev Historie fur das Leben ("OT the Advantage and Disadvantage of History for Lite’), Written (1873) and published (1874) shordly after Bismarck’ victory over France, it attacks a specific ingredient and pride of Cerman—and not only of German-cultural life uring the 19th century: its excerive esteem of history a nourished by Hegel's projection of reason into everything historical. The intense awareness that an overemphasis on history i bound to paralyze the spicit of action and thereby ‘weaken genuine civilization, leads Nietsche to a most fruitful reconsideration of man's relation to historical knowledge and of typeof historical presentation ‘We thos learn about the “hisorial;” the “unhistoria,” and the “super-hisorical” man and about “monumental “antiquarian,” and “eritical” history. Bat we do not Jesrn from 2 systematic philosopher and may therefore not expect 1 rigorous and particalarly not an exhaustive clasifeation Ie ie rather up to the understanding reader to compare Nietuche’s sketchy but most vivid and incisive indications ith his own acquaintance with, and ideals of approaches to, Iiscorical reality. Such a reader will, no doubt, take a lasting enrichment from Nietiche's sparkling analysis and appraisal He will cake it particularly from the penetrating diagnons of what Niewsche calls “the historical ilness” of which the final pphase—ironical, even cynical seltabasoment—is certainly not re- smote from the present day state of mind of the Western world. ‘Te cannot be denied that The Use and Abuse of History containg—as an antidote against historic incllecwalism— 2 glorification of action for its own sake, “activism,” and an ‘ensuing tendency toward treating historical writing and cd- cation as an instrument for mobilising “action.” Here Nictriche's voluntarism takes its coll and should be unequivo cally identiied and rejeced—quite contrary to being systema: tized by existentialist speculations on historical destiny or irrational commitment (Heidegger, Sart). But although “activism” is not the answer to historicist inellectualism, Nietrsche's thundering against a "merely decorative culture Which indulges in baseless constructions of hietory instead of aiming at a better balance between contemplation and action isa prophetic warning not only for the nineteenth but alo for the twentieth century In the account of his own intellectual development, as given in Ecce Homo, Nicwache proudly proclaims with reference to his Thoughts out of Season (the second essay in which is The Use ond Abuse of History): "Lam the frst morals.” This selfinterpretation holds true for the element of activism in Nietsche's protest against the conventional lee of the nine- teenth century. Bur it does not at all apply to his eulture- critics as sch and particularly not to his daring atack against the pretensions of histricism: this criticism, far from being an expression of immoral, isa confesion of passion ate devotion to cultural values ‘Nieuasche's attack against the abuse of history possestes 2 specific timeliness, Much can be leamed from it by open: ‘minded teachers and sudents who participate in different attempts at approximating the ideal of general education and ‘who seriously afm at learning the art of cultural analysis and at understanding beter the goals and procedures of respons ble action in the service of culcural life. To all those with serious concern for safeguarding and promoting the health of cultural life, Niewsche's Use and Abuse of History can be & source of a new clarity and of a new courage, JULIUS KRAFTNOTE ON THE TEXT ‘The present edition of The Use and Abuse of History isthe ‘Adrian Collins translation ineluded in the authorized English edition of Nietnche's complete works edited in eighteen vol lumes by Oscar Levy (London, 1909-13). The editorial staff of the publisher has made some tinor eorzections in the transla- tion and hat modified spelling and punctuation to conform ‘with preferred American usage. oP. ‘THE USE AND ABUSE OF HISTORYPREFACE, hnate everything that merely instructs me without in: 1g oF directly quickening my activity." These words of Goethe, like a sincere ceterum censeo, may well and at the Ihead of my thoughts on the worth and the worthlesnest of ‘history. I will show why instruction that does not “quicken,” knowledge that slackens the vein of activity, why in fact hie tory, in Goethe's phrase, must be seriously “hated,” as a costly and superfiuous luxury of the understanding: for we are sill in want of the necesaries of life, and the superfuous ie an ‘enemy to the nocesary. We do need history, butt quite difer cently from the jaded idles in the garden of knowledge, how. lever grandly they may look down on our rude and unpictar ‘esque requirements. In other words, we need it for life and action, not asa convenient way t0 avoid life and action, of to ‘excuse a sesh life and a cowardly or base action, We would serve history only so far as i serve life; but to value its Deyond a certain point mutilates and degrades life: and this ie a fact chat certain marked symptoms of our time make it as necessary a8 it may be painful to bing to the test of experience. have tied uo describe a feling that has often troubled me revenge myself on ic by giving it publicy. This may lead someone to explain to me that he has also had the feeling, but that Ido not fee! it purely and elementally enough, and cannot expres it with the ripe certainty of experience. A fexe ‘may say s0; but most people will tell me tha iis a perverted, ‘unnatural, horrible, and altogether unlawiul feeling to have, and thae I show myself unworthy of the great historical move. ment which is especially strong among the German people for the last two generations. Tam at all costs going to ventare on a description of my feelings; which will be decidedly inthe interests of propriety, all give plenty of opportunity for paying compliments a “movement” And I gain an advantage for mysell4 runout SETHE tat fs more valuable to me than propriety-the atainment of 2 comect point of view, through my erties, with regard to four age. ‘These thoughts are “out of season,” because Tam trying to represent something of which the age is rightly proud~ite historical culture—as a fault and a defect in our time, belie ing 28 I do that we are all suffering from a malignant histor: cal fever and should atleast recognize the fat. But even if iis 2 virtue, Goethe may be right in asserting that we cannot help developing our faulis atthe same time as our virtues; and an ‘exces of virtue ean obviously bring a nation to ruin as well as an exces of vice. In any case I may be allowed my say. But 1 will fst relieve my mind by the confesion that the experi fences which produced those disturbing feelings were mostly drawn from myselfand from other sources omly for the sake ‘of comparison; and that I have only reached such “anseatona- Die" experience so far a5 1 am the nursing of older ages like the Greck, and lest a child of this age. I must admit so mich in viete of my profesion as a elasieal scholar; for I do not know what meaning clasial scholarship may have for our time except in its being “unseasonable”=that is, contrary to four time, and yet with an influence on it for the benefit, it aay be hoped, of a future time. ‘THE USE AND ABUSE OF HISTORY 1 Consider the herds that ate feeding yonder: they know not the meaning of yesterday or today; they graze and ruminate, rove or rest, from morning to nigh, from day to day, taken up with their litle loves and hates and the merey of the moment, feeling neither melancholy nor satery. Man cannot see them without regret, for even in the pride of his humanity he looks enviowsly on the beasts happiness. He wishes simply to live without satiety or pain, like the beast: ye it is all in vin, for he will not change places with it. He may ask the Dbeast—"Why do you Took at mie and not speak to mie of your hhappines?"” The beast wants to answer"Becanse 1 always forget what T wished to say"; but he forgets this ansser,t00, and is lent; and the man is left 10 won He wonders also about himielfthat he cannot learn to forget, but hangs on the past: however far of fast he runs, that chain runs with him. Ie is matter for wonder: the moment that is here and gone, that was nothing before and nothing after, returns like a specter to trouble the quiet of a later moment. A leaf is continually dropping out of the volume of time and fluttering aveay—and suddenly it utters back into the man’s lap. Then he says, “Iremember . . . ;” and envies the Deast that forgets at once and sees every moment realy dic, sink into night and mist, extinguished forever. The beast lives wnhistorically for it “goes into” the presen, like a num ber, without leaving any eurious remainder. It cannot disim- ulate it conceals nothing: ac every moment it seems what it actually is, and hus can be nothing that is not honest. But ‘man is always resisting the great and continually inereaing weight of the past; preses him down and bows his shoulders: hae cravels with a dark invisible burden that he can plausibly sown, and is only too glad to disown in converse with his5 rruroaicae NrETaScHE fellows-in order to excite their envy, And so it hurts him, like the thought of a lost paradise, to see a herd grazing, of, nearer sill, child that has nothing yet of the past to disown and plays in @ happy blindnes between the walls of the past and the futare, And yet its play must be disashed, and only 100 soon will ie be suramoned from its litle Kingdom of ob- livion. Then ie learns to understand the words “once upon & time," the “open sesame” that lets in battle, suffering, and ‘weariness on mankind and reminds them what their existence really an Imperfect tense that never becomes a present. And when death brings at last the desired forgecfulnes,it abolishes life and being together, and ses the seal on the knowledge that “veing’ is merely a continual “has been,” a thing that lives by denying and destroying and contradicting isc. IU appiness aud the chase for new happines keep alive in any sense the will to live, no philosophy has perhaps more tru than the eynic' for the beas’s bappines, like that of the perfect cynic, isthe visible proof of the truth of eynician ‘The smallest pleasure, i it be only continous and makes one happy, is incomparably a greater happiness than the more intense pleasure chat comes as an episode, a wild freak, 2 mad interval between ennui, deste, and privation, But in the smallest and greatest happiness there is always one thing that makes it happiness: the power of forgetting, or, in more leaned phrase, the capacity of feeling “unbistorically” throughout 1s duration. One who cannot leave himself behind on the tOueshold of the moment and forget the past, who cannot stand on a single point, like a goddess of victory, without fear or giddiness, will never know ‘what happiness is: and, worse still, will never do anything to make others happy. The ex ‘ome case would be the man without any power to forget who is condemned to sce “becoming” everywhere. Sach a man no longer believes in himself or his own existence; he sees every: thing fy past in an eternal succession and loses himselé in the stream of becoming. At lst, like the logial disciple of Hera- dlitus, he will hardly dave eo raise hie finger. Forgetfulness is a property ofall ction, just as not only light but darkness is {HIE USE AND AMUSE OF MsTORY 7 bound up with the life of every organism. One who wished to feel everything historically would be like 3 sian forcing him- ‘cI to refrain from sleep or a beast who had to live by chew: ing a continual cud. Thus ven a happy life is posible without remembrance, 25 the beast shows: but life in any true sense is absolutely impossible without forgetfulness. Or, to put my conclusion better, there isa degree of sleplessnes, of rumina tion, of “historical sense," that injures and finally destroys the living thing, be it a man or a people or a system of culture ‘To fix this degree and the limits to che memory of the past," if itis not to become the gravediggcr of the present, we must see clearly how great i the “plastic power” of a man or & community ora culture; I mean the power of specifically grow ing out of one's self, of making the past and the strange one body with the near and the present, of healing wounds, replae ing what is lost, repairing broken mols. ‘There are men who hhave this power so slightly that a single sharp experience, single pain, often a lide injustice, will lacerate their souls like the seratch of a poisoned knife. There are others who are 40 litle injured by the worst misfortunes, and even by their own spiteful actions, ar to fel talerably comfortable, with 2 fairly quiet conscience, in the midse of them-or at any rate shorly afterwards. The deeper the roots of a man's inner nature, the beter will he take the past into himeelf; and the greatest and most powerful nature would be known by the absence of limits for the historical sense to overgtow and work harm. It would assimilate and digest the past, how fever foreign, and curn it to sap. Such « nature can forget what it cannot subdue; there is no break in the horkzon, and nothing to remind it that cher ae stil men, passions, cheories, and alms on dhe other side. This is a universal law: a living thing can only be healthy, strong, and productive within = certain horizon; if iti incapable of drawing one round itsel, for too selfish to ose its own view in another's, i will come to ‘an untimely end. Choerfalnes, x good conscience, belie in the future, the joyfal deed~all depend, in the individual as well as the nation, on there being line that divides the visible and8 PRIEDRICE NIETASCHE, ‘lar from the vague and shadowy: we must know the right time to forget as well as tho right time to remember, and instinctively see when it is necessary to feel historically and ‘when unhistoricaly. This i dhe point chat the reader i asked to.comsider: thatthe unhistorical and the historical are equally necessary tothe health of an individual, a community, and system of cukure Everyone has noticed that a man's histarcal knowledge and range of feeling may be very limited, his horizon as narrow as that of an Alpine valley, is judgments incorrect and his ex- perience falsely supposed original, and yet in spite of all the incorreciness and falsity he may stand forth in unconquer- able health and vigor, 0 the joy ofall who see him; whercas another man with far more judgment and learning will fail in comparison, because the lines of his horizon are continwally ‘changing and shifting and he cannot shake himself free from the delicate network of his truth snd righteousness fora down: right act of will or desire. We saw that the beast, absolutely “unhistorical,” with the narrowest of horizons, has yet a eer tain happiness and lives at least without hypocrisy ot ennuis anTo-we may hold the capacity of feeling (to a certain ex: ent) unhistorically to be the more important and elemental, as providing the foundation of every sound and real grovth, everything that is erly great and human. ‘The unbistoical is like he surrounding atmosphere that can alone eae life and in whose annitilation Wife ise diappears, Iti ere that ‘man ean only become man by frst suppressing this unhietor- ‘al clement in his thoughts, comparisons, distinctions, and. ‘conclusions, letting a clear sudden light break ehrough these misty clouds by his power of turning the past to the ses ‘of the present. But an excess of history makes him flag agsin, While without the veil of the unbistorical he would never Ihave the courage to begin. What deeds could man ever have done if he had not been enveloped in the dastcloud of the tunhistorical? Or, wo leave metaphors and take a concrete ex: ample, imagine 4 man swayed and driven by a strong passion, whether for a woman er a theory. His world is quite altered. HIE UE AND AMUSE OF ssronY ° He is blind to everything behind him, new-ounds are mull 2 meanings tough his perception Were ever coin tmaely fl in al ht calor, gh and mist, and ese temp them with hi fe sens toga All his judgments {Feahue ave changed for the wore thee i much he an mo Tonge ale on he cn wary fie wonders that he fs tolong bees the spot of srange words and opinions tat his ‘ecllctions have Fan sound in one unwearjng clean ate Jet too wenk and weary to ate ange sep away Kem Fis whole tse is moat indefensible itis mato, wogratei {o te par, blind to danger, det to waengy mall ving tidy ita dead sea of ight and frgetlness And yet ths CSalilen, whisorel and anhitotial treugiout i the ‘Sade ot only of nj cto, but of every fad us fle action inthe woot, No rst wl aint his pene, no feueral win hs victory, no ation gain ks freedom, witkont ving riven and yeatoed fort utr those very “unr St" conditions tthe man of acon in Goeties plate, Sithowr comico, he ao whew nowldgebe forges Trot thing rd odo oe, es wus to wba sete tim, an ly awe law ofthat hich Berio elo nly mores edb be lore and the best works ze prev fsuch an estan of Tove that they mus alway be nwertny of fe however gest ther worth eerie Stould anyone be able to disove che unbisoreal ater phere in which every gent event happens and breathe air trrdy, he might be capable of ring to the “super diboiel™ Sandpoint of connotes ha Mibu as dered the prsite res of hori rower “History Re ys, Sel for one purpose fsuded ia deal that men may row, athe genta ond ben spits of our generation do nt {ow the aden game af the fos a which they se od {ns on otf ecng-insi, Ty cate tei consumes of hci excepeionaly intense: Anyone who has not grape {his des in illerentapplctons wil fl under Ue pall of more powerfal prt who rads dacperemunin inte the10 mmurontcr NIETEscHE given form.” Such «standpoint might be called “super histori fal," at one who took it could feel no impulse from history to any farther lite or work, for he would have reeognined the blindness and injustice in the soul of the dae as a condition of every deed he would be cured henceforth of taking history too vriously, and have learaed to answer the question how and wy life should be livedfor all men and all dreumstances, Greeks or Turk, the frst centr or the nineteenth, Whoever ak hs frends whether they would live ch lst tenor twenty yeas over again wil ely see which of them is born for the “uperhistorical stapdpoine”: they will ll nae no, but wil five diferent reasons for their annver. Some will say they have the consolation that the next swenty wil be beter: they ate the men zlered to sarcaly by David Hume: And from the dregs of ite hope to recxve, {What the fis sprightly running could aot gives We wil call then the “hstorieal men.” Their vision of the pst turns them foward the future, encourages them to pete. tere with ie, and Kinds the hope that justice will yet come tnd happiness is Belind che mountain they are climbing ‘They believe that the meaning of existence wil become ever clearer in the course of its evolution; they lok backward 3t the proces omy to understand the present and atimlate tele longing for the future. They do tot know how unbistrial their thoughts and actions are inspite of all their history, and hhow thie caltvation of history dose not serve pute knowledge bot life ‘Bat that question to which we have heard he frst answer is capsble of another: aio a “no,” but on diferent grounds. Ie isthe "no" of the “superhistorical” man who sees no salvar tion in evwoltion, for whom the world fx compete and fulfils kes aim in every single moment. How could the next ten years teach what the past ten were notable to teach? ‘Whether dhe aim of the teaching be happiness or rerignation, a[Diatogue Concerning Natural Religion, Put X, quot fom Joba rylen, dwengdebe, Act Ve0e 1) . {THE OR AND AnUeE OF msroRY n iste or penane, thee perdikeicl men are not aged: tnt at again all merely historical ways of viewing the past they ate ianimous inthe theory thatthe pst andthe present are one and the sme, pci lie inal thir diversity and forming together picture of ternaly present imperiable types of unchangeable value and sighfcanee wt a2 the lundseds of diferent longsagescorespond to the sume cone sant snd elemental neds of mankind, and one who weer ood the needs could learn nothing new fom the lange, 40 the “aiperhintorcal”philsopher ses all the histry of nions and indvidals fom within, He hs a divine ight al meaning ofthe hieroglyph, nd comes even to be weary of the letters that are contintally unrolled before him, How should the endless rsh of events not bring sary, sureit loathing? So the boldest of Is ready perhape at lat to ay from his heart with Giacomo Leopardi: "Nothing lies hae were worth thy pains, andthe earth deserves not = sigh Our being is pain and wearines, and the world is mn nothing ce, Be aim.” ‘But we wl eae the superhisorical mento thir Toathings and thir wisdom: we wh rather tay toe jovfal ia oat timidogn nd have a plese Wie neve en who go forward and repect the coure of the word. The value But on the historical may be merely Western prejudice: feeus a leat go forward within this prejudice aad not sand sti Tf we could only Tea better to sy history a8 2 mean toliet We would gly gran the supe historia people ttt Superior wisdom, 0 long at we are sure of having more Ie than they, orn that cae our wisdom would havea geeater fare belore ie chan ther wisdom. To make my opposition beewcen hfe and wisdom clear, Iwill ate the wel vad of the short summary. 4 historia phenomenon, completely understood and re dtced to an tem of knowledge in relation tothe man wo ows it dead for he hs fond ot madness is injusie, {ss blind pasion, and capecally the earthly aud darkened hoviom that way the source ofits power for histery. This2 epee METISCH power has now Become, for him who has recognize it, power Keser not yt, perhaps, for him who i alive. isto regarded as pure knowledge and alowed 10 say the intellect would mesa for men the Gna! balancing of the ledger of life. Historical sudy isonty fruitful for the fueure i ‘it follows a powerful lifegiving influence, for example, @ new Soe Oe cate aeebre Tie b ‘therefore, i it # guided and domi ated bys higher fore, and does not iuelf gute and dominate. “istry so fara eserves life serve an unbistsical power, and thus will never become a pure science like mathematic, ‘The question how fst life needs sich «service is one of the tmost seriots questions affecting the wellDeing of a man, a people, and a culture. For by exces of history life beenmes aimed and degenerate, and i followed by the degeneration of history a8 wel 1 ‘The face that life does need the service of history must be ae dearly grasped as that an excess of history hurts it; this sei be proved later. History is necessary to the living man in thcce ways: in relation to his action and strugee, his conserva tisin and reverence, his suffering and bis desire for deliverance. “These three relations answer to the three kinds of hiswory— so far as they can be distinguished-the monumental, the ‘antiquarian, and the evtial ‘History is necesary above all to the man of action and power who fights a great fight and nceds example, teachers, nd comforters; he cannot find them among his contempo- ‘aties. Te was necesary in this sense to Schiller; for our time is 0 evil, Goethe says, that the poct meets mo nacure that will pprofc bim among living men. Polybius is thinking of the Active man when he calls political history the true preparation for governing a state; it isthe great teacher that shows us bow to bear steadfastly the reverses of fortune by reminding us of ‘what others have sulfered, Whoever has learned to recognize this meaning in history must hate co see curious tourists and “TI USE AND ABUSE OP sAsTORE 18 Inborious beeehunters climbing wp ihe gret pyramids of nlguty He doc ot wish to oct the idler wh is rshing through the picture galleries of the pat for anew distraction of sensation, where he hin is looking for example ant em Couragement."To avo being toubled by the weak and hope Tes ers, and the whose apparent aciviy is merely neu rote he lols Gein him an stays his oor oar the goal in oider to breathe. His goals happnes, not perhaps his ten bt often the nation's or nants at lage: he soils Sleds, and uses history a weapon agains it For the mse Parte has no hope ofrward expt fame, which mean the Expectation ofa nice inthe temple of history, where he in Us tara may be the coatler and counsdor of poset. For Tis orders are that wha has one ben able to extend the cote ception “wan” and give ies fier conten mst ever ext for the same offs. The great moment in the individual bate form a chai, a highroad for humanity though the ages, and the highest points af ae Wanted moment are et ret and living for mln: snd tls he fandasenal ea ofthe belie, in humanity that finds voice i the dean for 4 “mone seal history. ‘But the feces bale i fought ound the demand for great nus) to be cera Every lhe living thing ccs nay *Avey With the monuments” fe the wachvord Dull easton ls 2 the chambers of the world with ite meanaesy and in dick vapor round anything that i grea brag ts wey to immortality, nding and sling ie And the wey pane through mortal bral ‘hough dhe brain of sick se shore lived Deans at ever tse to the alee to bree, sm pafally hep off annihilation for a litle space or dhe Wish but one thing tive a ny cot Who would ever dreamt of ny "monumental ivory” tong them, ke hard tor face that alone gives lle to grea? And yet there ave a. rae men avaeing who ate srcgdicned and nade happy by gasng on pst genes, hough mans ite were a lol Ang andthe fates frit cis biter wee were te Know edge that there wat once san who walked sternly and proly4 RUEDRUGHL NIETZSCUE through this world, another who had pity and loving kindness, another who lived in contemplation, but all leaving one truth behind diemthat hit life is the fairest who thinks least about life. The common man snatches greedily at this ttle span with tragic eamesiness, but they, on their way to monumental history and immortality, knew bow to greet it with Olympic laughter, or atleast with a lofty scorn; and they went down to their graves in irony-for what had they to bury? Only what had always tested as dross, refuse, and vanity, and ‘whieh now falls into its true home of oblivion, aftr being so Tong the sport of their contempt. One thing will live the sign ‘manual of their inmost being, the rare fash of light, the deed, the creation; because posterity cannot do without it. In this spiritualized form, fame is something more than the sweetest morsel for our egoisin; in Schopenhauer’s phrase it is the be- lief in the oneness and continuity of the great in every age, and a protest against the change and decay of generations ‘What isthe use to the modern man of this “monumental” contemplation of the past, this preoccupation with the rare fand clatic Te ie the Knowledge that the great thing existed fnd was therefore posible, and so may be posible again, He is heartened on his ways for his doubt in weaker moments, whether his desire is not for the impossible, is struck aside Suppose one should believe that no more than a hundred men, brovght up in the new spirit, efcient and productive, were needed to give the deathblow to the present fashion of education in Germany; he will gather strength from the re- membrance thar the culture of the Renaissance was ralsed on the shoulders of such another band of a hundred men. ‘And yet if we really wish to learn something feom an exam ple, how vague and elisive do we find the comparison! If it to give us strength, many of the diferences must be neglected, the individuality of the past forced into 2 general formula and all the sharp angles broken off for the sake of correspond- ence. Ultimately, of course, what was once posible can only become possible’ a second time on the Pythagorean theory that when the heavenly bodies are in the same postion again {ME USE AND ABUSE OF sUsTORY. 5 the events on earth are reproduced to the smallest detail; ro ‘when the stars have a certain relation, a Stoic and an Epicu ean will form a compiracy to murder Caesar, and a different conjunction will show another Columbus discovering America. (Only ifthe earth always hogan its drama again after the fifth ct, and it was certain that the eame interaction of motive, the same deus ex machina, the ime catastrophe would recur at particular jnvervals, could the man of action venture look for the whole archetypic truth in monumental history, to sce cach fact fully st out in ie uniqueness it would proba. bly not be before the astronomers became astrologers agai. ‘Till chen monumental history will never be able to have com. plete truth; it will always bring together things What are compatible and generalize them into compatiblity, will always ‘weaken the differences of motive and oocasion. It object is to depict effets atthe expense of the causer—"monumentally,” that is, as examples for imitation; ic curns aside, as far as it say, from reatons, and might be called with far less exaggera tion'a collection of “effects in unemselves" than of events that will have an effect on all ages. The events of war or religion cherished in our popular celebrations are such “effects in themselves"; itis these chat will not let ambition sleep, and Tie like amulets on the bolder bearts=not the real historical nexus of cause and effect, which, rightly understood, would only prove that nothing quite similar could ever be cast again from the dice boxes of fate and the future AAs Iong a8 the soul of history is found in the great impulse that i gives to a powerful spirit, as long as the past is prin cially used as a model for imitation, its always in danger of being a litte altered and touched up and brought nearer to ficifon. Sometimes there is no possible distinction between a “monumental” past and a mythieal romance, a& the same motives for action can be gathered from the one world a the ‘other. If this monumental method of surveying the past dome nates the others~the antiquarian and the critical—the part itself slfers wrong. Whole tract of it ate forgotten and de- spised; they flow away like a dark, unbroken river, with only16 uronicit METzSCHE, 1 few gaily colored islands of fact rising above it. There is Something Beyond nature in the rare figures that become Visible, like the golden hips that his disciples attibuted co Pythagoras. Montumental history lives by false analogy: it entices the brave to rashnest, and the enthusiastic to fam ‘issn by its tempting comparisons, Imagine this history in the hhands—and the head—of a gifted egoist or an inspired scoun- rel; Kingdoms would be overthrown, princes murdered, war and revolution let loose, and the number of “effects in them- felve"in other words, effects without sufficient cause—in- ‘creased, So much for the harm done by monumental histozy to the powerful men of action, be they good or bad; but what if the weak and inactive take it as their servant—or their master! ‘Consider the simplest and commonest example, the inartistic cr halfartstc nacures whom a monumental history provides with sword and buckler. They will use the weapons against their hereditary enemies, the great artistic spirits, who alone can Tearn from that history the one real lesson how to live, and embody what they have learned in noble action, Their ‘way is obstructed, their free air darkened by the idolatrous~ fang conscientious—dance round the balEunderstood monu- ‘ment of a great past. “See, that is the true and real ar” we ‘seem to heat; “of what use are these aspising lide people of today?" The dancing cowd has apparently the monopoly of “good taste," for the creator is always at a disadvantage com> ‘pared with the mere onlooker, who never put a hand to the ‘work; just a8 the armchair politician has ever had more wis: