# Nietzsche the thinker/Chapter XIX

CHAPTER XIX
CRITICISM OF MORALITY (Cont.). VARYING TYPES OF MORALITY
I
In introducing some paragraphs on "the natural history of morals" in Beyond Good and Evil, Nietzsche urges the necessity of making a collection of different types of morality. While admitting that moral feeling in Europe is subtle, many-sided, sensitive, refined, "the science of morals" seems to him still young, tyro-like, clumsy (plump)—even the word "science" in this connection being presumptuous and against good taste, which is always a taste in the first place for modest expressions. A preliminary need, he urges, is to gather material, to grasp conceptually and classify an immense domain of delicate valuations and distinctions of value, which live, grow, propagate, and die—and to try, perhaps, to make detailed pictures of the recurring and more frequent forms of this living crystallization. But instead of such work, for which no hand could be too fine, philosophers, whenever they have addressed themselves to morals as a science, have demanded of themselves, with pedantic and amusing gravity, something far higher, more pretentious, more solemn, a basis of morality—and all think that they have provided one; but morality itself passed as something "given." The fact is, however, that they have only known the moral facta roughly (gröblich), in some arbitrary abstract or some accidental abridgment, perhaps as the morality of their environment, their class, their church, their time, their climate and zone—and just because they have been so poorly instructed and were so little curious in respect to peoples, eras, and past ages, they have not come face to face with the real problems of morality, which first arise in connection with a comparison of many moralities.
​The expression "many moralities" doubtless seems strange to many—and we have found Nietzsche himself giving a somewhat definite characterization of morality in the chapter before the last. But though morality is always the law of a social group, and in certain essential points tends to be the same everywhere, it may vary to the extent different groups are differently situated and have different needs, or to the extent they have different specific aims. All must value and have tables of good and evil, but these need not be exactly alike. Indeed, so far as a group is peculiar, whether in its circumstances or its ideals, it must value differently from other groups, otherwise the development of its own individual life will not be secured. Nietzsche essays a brief characterization of the moralities of the Greeks, the Persians, the Jews, and the Germans—so far as each has its peculium—in a discourse of Zarathustra. "Ever shalt thou be the first and excel others, no one shall thy jealous soul love but a friend"—such was the distinctive spirit of Hellenic morality; with this the Greek went on his path of greatness. "To speak truth, and use the bow and arrow well"—this seemed pre-eminently good to the Persians. "To honor father and mother and to be obedient to them down to the depths of one's soul"—this was the maxim, by obeying which Israel became strong and immortal. "To practise fidelity, and for the sake of fidelity to risk honor and blood even in bösen and dangerous courses"—so saying, the German people mastered itself and became pregnant with great hopes. Moralities like these are, of course, group-moralities proper. But there may also be minor groups within the group-social classes of various sorts; and these too may have their peculiar situations, needs, and aims. We speak colloquially now of the morality of the various professions, of the morality of business, of that of family life and so on. It is observable that individuals even acquire different characters to a certain extent, depending on the nature and aims of the class to which they belong. We can imagine that if some of these minor groups disappeared, they might leave their impress in ways of speaking and looking at things that should survive them—so that if men in future times were keen enough of scent, they ​might construct more or less of a picture of the vanished group from data before them. Royal institutions might thus be reconstructed after an age of democracy had set in. The family institution might be reconstructed after the family had disappeared (if that could ever be).
II
It appears to have been in some such way as this that Nietzsche was led to the supposition of an original master-morality and slave-morality. Such distinct things do not exist now, but he fancied that they had existed. He was not an original investigator in history or sociology, but he was a wide reader, and had a keen scent for the meaning, and shades of meaning, of words. In wandering through the many moralities both finer and ruder, which have ruled hitherto on the earth or still rule, he thought he detected certain traits regularly recurring together and connected with one another; and at last two ground-types disclosed themselves and a fundamental distinction appeared—there was a morality of the master or ruling class and one of the slave or subject class. He found survivals of these moralities among us today—there are contrasted ways of feeling and judging and even of speaking, that appeared to him to receive their natural explanation in this way. Sometimes the contrasted standpoints are harmonized (at least attempts are made to harmonize them), sometimes they simply co-exist; they may co-exist in the same individual, who now judges in one way and now in another—it is a part of the criss-cross, the anarchy, of the present moral situation, as he saw it, to which allusion has been made. He found also another type of morality—that of the priestly class. The good and evil of the priestly class were at bottom identical with the pure and impure—the terms having been understood at the start not so much in a symbolical, as in a simple physical sense. A man was "pure" who bathed himself, who forbade himself foods that caused diseases of the skin, who did not cohabit with unclean women of the lower class, who had a horror of blood—not more than this, at least not much more. In the course of time, "pure" came to have the moral and spiritual meanings with which we are all familiar—yet even ​so there is always the lurking suggestion of a contrast to the ordinary tainted world. But the moral types which Nietzsche considers at length are those of the ruler and subject classes. As he read history, this social cleavage is the most striking one—the one that has left the deepest marks. The cleavage does not exist in democratic communities, and if the world had started and developed democratically, "master-morality" and "slave-morality" would have no meaning.
It should be said at the outset that "master" and "slave" are not used by Nietzsche merely in the economic sense to which we in America are most accustomed, but, as has been hinted in an earlier connection, broadly. The economic slave who is captured in war or purchased and put to drudgery in the fields or in the household is one kind of slave, but that which makes him a slave is subjection to the will of another—and virtually every one who takes his orders from another, and has to, gets this designation at Nietzsche's hands. The master (Herr), on the other hand, is one who gives orders. And inasmuch as early political societies were commonly made up of leaders and the led, rulers and the ruled, the function of the latter being as much to follow and obey as that of the former was to lead and command, the language "master and slave," in application to them, is strictly appropriate. Particularly does it apply when one society conquers another, which seems to have been the way in which large political aggregates were formed in early times. Nietzsche once goes so far as to say that classes (Stände) always originate in differences of descent and race. But this appears to be a needlessly strong statement. "Slave morality" and "the morality of the mass" are practically synonymous to him, and the "mass" in contrast with the rulers or leaders belonged to every social group—the two are constantly contrasted and their virtues and duties contra-distinguished by him. Sometimes he even uses "group-morality" (Heerden-Moral) as identical with "slave-morality," meaning of course that the "slaves" are the greater part of the group, just as we often speak of the "people," when we ​mean the common people, or of a flock of sheep and its bell-wether, or of a herd of cattle and its "Vor-ochsen." In times past there have been the few rulers and the many ruled—this is the simple broad fact on which Nietzsche's view of a master-morality and a slave-morality is based. For us today "slave" is a derogatory expression, and always, it is true, a slave has ranked lower than a free man; but Nietzsche knows also how to appreciate the slave—and even says that many a man has thrown away his last worth when he threw away his servitude How necessary and vital in his estimation the slave class has been in the past, how necessary and vital their counterparts are today and always will be, we shall see later. I pass now to a more detailed characterization of the two moral types.
First, the ruler morality. It is evident that the ruler class of men are a marked type. They have unusual vigor, enterprise, courage, vitality generally; they are, relatively speaking, higher, more complete men. Their ascendency can hardly be accounted for otherwise—they take the first place, because they are the first. They delight in war, adventure, the hunt, the dance, contents of skill—it is from the overflow of the energy within them. Theirs is not ordinary labor in the fields or the household—others have this for their portion; and whether they subjugate roving disorganized masses or rule their own group, winning a more or less willing allegiance there, the basis of their superiority is the same. When then such men value, they are likely to do so more or less differently from those beneath them. Comfort and personal security are not a first consideration—nor are they looking to others to be kind and good to them. They use "good" in a peculiar sense: it is not a "good to," they feel themselves good; they approve not so much beneficence or benevolence, as their own overflowing power and exuberant manner of life. The mass, however, look at things from another standpoint. They are the weaker, the less self-sufficient, and have need of kindness at others' hands. They do the heavy ​labor, and mutual help means much to them. All live more or less in fear in primitive times, but the humbler and weaker especially, and to be delivered from it, to have others good to them instead of evil, is a supreme desire; the principal function of rulers in their eyes is to protect them from evil from outside.
It is contrasted perspectives like these which give birth, in Nietzsche's judgment, to the contrasted valuations, "gut" and "schlecht" on the one side, "gut" and "böse" on the other. The ruling class feel themselves good, and, sensible of the contrast between themselves and those beneath them, they call the latter not good, schlecht. Nietzsche remarks on the fact that the German word schlecht originally meant little more than plain, ordinary; it had a shade of contempt—Wundt gives "simple," "plain," "poor," "mean" as its equivalents. It came to have its present moral signification roughly speaking with the Thirty Years' War (so Nietzsche says), and still has a flavor of contempt. I know of no precise English equivalent for it, but perhaps the nearest is "bad." So the English translation of Nietzsche's Werke renders it, and when we speak of work as "badly done," of a book as "badly written," and mean "in poor, inferior fashion," we approach the particular shade of significance it has. But the valuations "gut" and "böse" are different. These reflect the sentiments and situation of the subject or slave class. Here "good" is equivalent to fear-allaying, kindly, benevolent, sympathetic—"böse" signifying the opposite. Indeed Nietzsche appears to think that böse is the more original conception of the two, the positive conception—"good" being an after-formation and counterpart to it.
The master and subject valuations are thus quite different. Each class has its good and evil (in the broad sense) corresponding to the conditions of its life, but the good of the one is not the good of the other, and the evil of the one is not the evil of the other. The rulers can only maintain their particular type of existence by estimating things as they do—to use Nietzsche's metaphor, they protect themselves with their "good" and ​"schlecht" as with sacred groves; and the mass equally protect themselves by judging as they do. The two classes have, indeed, a different temper throughout. The valuations of the higher class are direct, active; those of the mass are rather from ressentiment or reactive. Also the happiness of the superior class is direct—it comes from a sense of the fullness of their power, joy in activity is a part of it; but for the lower class happiness is in rest from activity, something found in times of relaxation or when under some narcotic influence. Again, the superior let themselves go more, the lower are more calculating (klüger). The higher vent their anger straightway—it does not poison them and they easily forget (Mirabeau is a modern instance); they, if anybody, can love their enemies—they indeed want an enemy, one in whom there is nothing to despise and much to honor, and honoring is a way to loving; but the lower cherish their resentment, keeping it in secret places within them, and fear their enemy rather than honor him.
It goes without saying that the contrast between the two classes and their moralities is within limits. The group as a whole must live, and what is helpful and harmful to it as a collectivity must have the first place. The sense of separateness of the higher class, their contempt for the lower, cannot go too far; and the mass, if they require protection and consideration and kindness too absolutely, will not give the services and make the sacrifices needed in time of war. In general, however, the group interests may be furthered rather than hindered by the differentiation into classes, with their respective points of view. It is a rudimentary kind of organization, and an organized mass is always stronger than a structureless one. Moreover, Nietzsche need not be supposed to mean that the classes and their moralities are marked off absolutely against each other; it is enough if, as the classes arise, they tend to take contrasted points of view—the moralities are types, schemata, not necessarily fully accomplished realities. And yet the contrasts are so great that not only is the good of the master-class not the good of the subject-class, but it may be the evil of the latter—the overflowing power of the ruler being just that which makes the subject afraid of him. A conqueror, for example, is always ​böse in the eyes of those whom he conquers, though it is just in conquering that he feels himself good, and whether the ruling class are conquerors from outside or native to the group they rule, the ruled stand more or less in dread of them. This is especially the case, in Nietzsche's opinion, after a group has been delivered from its enemies and lives in entire security; for the abounding energy, the overflowing vitality, the love of enterprise and conquest and domination, which are the characteristic marks of the superior class and which had been utilized in the public interest in time of danger and war, are now without an outlet and all too easily discharge themselves harmfully within the group itself. Indeed, members of the ruler class may seem böse when they are not; in mere exuberance of spirits and because their heaped-up energy must have vent, they may do harm and inflict suffering, without evil intent on their part. And, on the other hand, there is a tendency, Nietzsche thinks, for the "good" of the subject-class to become the "schlecht" of the ruling class, i.e., to be looked down upon with something like contempt. His language is, "The contrast reaches its climax, when, in harmony with the logic of slave-morality, something like depreciation (ein Hauch von Geringschätzung)—it may be slight and kindly—at last attaches itself even to the good man of this morality, since the good man, within the slave mode of thought, must at all events be the undangerous man: he is good-natured, easily deceived, perhaps a bit stupid, un bonhomme. Everywhere, where slave-morality gets the upper hand, language shows an inclination to bring the words 'good' and 'stupid' near together."
One way of characterizing the two moralities would be to say that one is a morality of self—approval, the other a utilitarian morality. Considerations of usefulness—usefulness to them-determine the judgments of the mass as to good and evil, for they are weak and need to have things arranged for their benefit. But the powerful class, who put their impress on things, who are happy in themselves—what is utility to them? ​Nietzsche virtually distinguishes the moralities in this manner himself; and yet in a broader sense all morality, whether of the group or of any class within it, is utilitarian according to his way of thinking—that is, it is good and binding not on its own account, but in that it furthers a given type of life and corresponds to the conditions of its preservation and development.
III
Such are the broad outlines of his view. I give now the particular philological suggestions that seem to have inspired it, or at least, as he thought, to confirm it. He is not dogmatic in using them, and some of his conjectures he came to see were mistaken. It was a method of approaching the subject that interested him, more than any particular results. In a note appended to the first treatise of Genealogy of Morals, he expressed the wish that some philosophical faculty would institute a series of prize papers on the history of morality and particularly in answer to the question, "What hints does the science of language, and especially etymological investigation, furnish for the history of the development of moral conceptions"? It is of interest to note that after almost a quarter of a century one German university has fulfilled this wish. I shall mention only the more important of Nietzsche's philological suggestions; they are mainly as to words expressive of the master-class valuations, which he thinks were the older of the two.
The Greek word for good, ἀγαθός is, he is aware, of uncertain derivation, but the words for "superior," "noble" were, he thinks, unquestionably class-designations (i.e., ruler-class, aristocratic) at the start, and he suspects that xxx was too. He instances phrases like "we superior, we good, we beautiful, ​we happy ones," with which old-time Greek aristocrats sometimes described themselves—having in mind, perhaps, language used by Theognis, who speaks of the "nobles" constantly as "the good," and of the common maw as the "bad" or "base." One thinks too of καλοκάγαθός with which the aristocratic ideal was summed up, though Nietzsche does not refer to it. Leopold Schmidt, it may be added, thinks that xxx referred to personal bravery and other characteristics, such as may be supposed to have belonged pre-eminently to early aristocracies: and of one thing we may, I suppose, be sure, namely, that it did not stand for the qualities, kindly, benevolent, sympathetic, with which we pre-eminently identify "good" today. Turning to the Latin word, bonus, Nietzsche conjectures that it goes back to an older duonus (like bellum from duellum), signifying a man in dissension, a warrior: accordingly "we see what in old Rome a man's 'goodness' amounted to." The old-time superior classes also designated themselves by other terms—perhaps oftenest, after their superiority in power, as "the mighty," "the lords," "the commanders," or, after the most visible sign of their superiority, as "the rich," "the possessors" (this the meaning of arya, with equivalents in Eranian and Slavic), or, after a typical trait of character, as "the truthful." The last term was particularly in use among the Greek nobility: in contrast with the weaker man given to lying and dissimulation, they called themselves ἐσθλοί—at least Theognis liked to describe them in this way; and it is interesting to note that in Hindu "good" is equivalent to "true," "bad" to "untrue."
Taking up now the words contrasted with ἀγαθός and bonus, Nietzsche points out that in both κακός and δειλός fear or cowardice is emphasized. Dewey and Tufts note that "base" ​"mean" were originally simply antitheses to "gentle" and "noble," "villain" meaning a feudal tenant, "knave" a servant, "rascal" one of the common herd; they even say that "bad" probably meant originally weak or womanish—in other words, all were practically class terms, applied de haut en bas. Nietzsche makes his most problematical conjecture as to the Latin malus—suggesting that the common man as the dark-colored (particularly dark-haired) is thus indicated. He connects it with the Greek μέλος (black)—as does also, I may add, Wundt (citing Curtius), though Wundt has rather in mind dirt or uncleanness, as viewed by the priestly class. The hypothesis is that "dark-haired" points to the pro-Aryan inhabitants of Italy, whom the Latin peoples conquered, they being dark as the Latin Aryans were blond. Nietzsche finds an analogy in the Gaelic, where "fin" (e.g., in Fin-Gal)—the distinctive term for the nobility, and coming at last to mean the good, noble, pure-designated originally the blond head, in contrast to the dark, black-haired aborigines. The Celts also, in common with the other Aryan invaders of Europe, were blond—although it appears to Nietzsche that, as time has gone on, the aborigines have everywhere more or less got the upper hand of their conquerors, in both bodily and moral characteristics. As to the German "schlecht," practically all the authorities agree with Nietzsche's view already given. His general idea is that the ruler classes virtually stamped their view on current speech—that is, did so at the start, for other valuations, coming from other classes, are the prevailing ones now.
As stated, "good" and "bad" designated classes at first, but in time their meaning came to be generalized, so that they stood simply for the qualities of the contrasted classes, irrespective of who possessed them. These more general meanings were, roughly speaking, fixed for the Greek world in the time of ​Socrates when the cleavage between the classes had more or less disappeared—Socrates himself doing much to fix and popularize them. They were, so to speak, the spiritual legacy of the old-time ruling class. So much then for "good and bad (schlecht)" the dominant valuations, as Nietzsche thinks, in the Greco-Roman world.
IV
And now as to the other type of morality, whose antithesis is "good and evil (böse)." Save to the extent to which it shades off into group-morality in general, it may be doubted whether it domesticated itself in the ancient world. It is the morality of the mass, and the mass had not sufficient power to impress their views upon language—perhaps were not "class-conscious" enough (to use a modern phrase), or with enough general intellectual development to perceive that they had a good and evil of their own; at best there was a tendency, an instinct, a craving in that direction. This in general; but there was an exception. In the case of one remarkable people of antiquity the mass or slave morality did articulate itself—and that owing to a peculiar combination of circumstances: I refer to the Jews. The early morality of Israel was much like that of other primitive vigorous peoples; but after the rise of the prophets, and particularly after the national downfall, there was a change. It was one of the main characteristics of the prophets that they took the side of the people, the common man, against the excesses of those who ruled. Under their influence the instinctive valuations of the weaker and poorer class attained an extraordinary development, and at last came to constitute the dominant morality of the community. Particularly when the community came under foreign dominion, when Israel became an oppressed and suffering people, did the point of view of the weaker class become that of the nation as a whole. The poor, the weak, the suffering, became almost ipso facto the righteous and the good; kindness, mutual help, mercy, and pity were made an absolute ideal—the law of Jahweh himself. We have heard much in recent years of the transformation of the ancient religion of Israel into an ethical religion—this is its meaning. Jahweh is no longer simply an impersonation of the nation's ​power and might and glory, he is the God of the humble, the protector and avenger of the poor and weak—he casts down the mighty and the proud. The ideals of the mass and the priestly ideal of purity were fused into a combination—Jahweh, or, more strictly speaking, Jahweh's law—the like of which the world has never seen. Who is not aware of the difference between the literature of Greece (particularly before Plato) and the Psalms (most of them), or the prophecies of Isaiah (especially the later Isaiah) and Jeremiah? There is not so much a contradiction as a different climate or atmosphere—the stress of things, the background of ideals, the supreme values are different. The Jews become in effect a priestly people, making the mass valuations absolute and divine.
And now at length there comes an hour of supreme triumph and revenge for them—not indeed for them individually or as a corporeal entity, but for the soul of Israel, for their ideal. In Christianity, born out of Israel, that ideal virtually overcame the old Greco-Roman world—overcame the master-morality that lingered on in it. Physically Israel was no match for the Roman Empire—those who strove in that direction were not representative of her real strength. But her mind—and sometimes none develope forces of mind like the weak—overcame Rome's mind, and perhaps even contributed to Rome's physical downfall, by sapping the life of the old ideals—master-class ideals—on which the Empire rested. Christianity was in effect a message, a gospel to that class in the Empire which had not yet come to recognition and power—the poor, the suffering, the toiling, the heavy-laden; it met their instinctive cravings, gave them a sense of their significance, made them think themselves the equals of those who had hitherto looked down upon them, yes, their superiors so far as they practised faithfully the new morality—superior not only in their own sight, but actually, as would be proved when Israel's God should make over the world in their favor, giving to them the felicities of Heaven and to their enemies the sufferings of Hell. It may seem strange to speak of the spirit of triumph and revenge in connection with Christianity. But let any one read the language of the best-known early Christian apostle, in writing to one of the churches he had founded: "You see your calling, brethren, how that not ​many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble are called; but God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things that are mighty; and base things of the world and things which are despised, yea, and things which are not, to bring to naught things that are." One who fails to catch the undertone of triumph and sublimated revenge in these words has hardly ears to hear. A kind of animus against and desire to humiliate the "noble and great" of the world—a spirit of refined cruelty to them—came to be a part of the Christian tradition; Nietzsche cites a striking passage from Tertullian (de spectac., 29 ff.). As gentle a soul as St. Francis of Assisi could say, "God has chosen me, because he could find no lower one, because he would turn to disgrace nobility, greatness, power, beauty, and the world's wisdom."
V
Such is an abstract and meager statement of the historical process by which, as Nietzsche views the matter, the morality of the slave or subject class, the mass, established itself in the world—a poor substitute, I own, for his own vivid and telling descriptions. He does not mean that kindness and mutual help and pity were unknown in the ancient world—or were unrecognized as a part of the moral code; to a certain extent sentiments and actions of this sort are necessary for the maintenance of any society—and he was well aware of it. He simply means that ideals of this description never obtained the supreme and dominant place which they now have in the world, never were made absolutely binding on all men, never were identified with morality itself, before prophetic Israel and Christianity played their part. It was the triumph of the common man, of the old-time slave class. Nietzsche speaks of it picturesquely as the "slave-insurrection." No one with the slightest understanding of him will imagine that he means by this anything spectacular ​or sudden. A subtle, slow, secular revolution in the mental and moral realm is what he has in mind—a matter, as he says, of two thousand years, and only now out of sight and consciousness, because it has triumphantly accomplished itself. For us today "moral" is almost identical with unegoistic, disinterested; our standard is the well-being of all or of the greatest number—it is only as we are unselfish that we are good, only as we serve that we are great. This sweeping change in the very meaning of words is the insurrection. The former "slave" is now on top, and those once called "superior," "mighty ones," "beautiful," "happy," "loved of the Gods" are under: even if they emerge, they have bad conscience and feel that they must apologize for themselves—they too, forsooth, must serve the slave, as the slaves serve one another! At the very best we men of today have divided minds; Nietzsche remarks that there is perhaps no more decisive sign of a "higher nature" now than to be so divided—a battle-place for antithetical sets of valuations. The reproach is often made against him that he proposed to overturn morality; but this is an overturning that has already taken place. The morality by which Greece and Rome lived in their great days no longer rules—it has been undermined, sapped by the Prophets and the Church. Speaking more simply, the aristocratic valuations, "good" and "bad," have been overthrown by the mass valuations, "good" and "evil." The overturning which Nietzsche proposed was, in fact, as we shall see, more of a restoration than a destruction. He particularly says that by "beyond good and evil" he does not mean "beyond good and bad"; he has no idea of transcending moral distinctions in general, but simply of transcending a particular set of distinctions that have won preponderance in the modern, or rather Christian, world.
* ↑ Beyond Good and Evil, § 186.
* ↑ Zarathustra, I, xv.
* ↑ Genealogy etc., I, §§ 6-8.
* ↑ P. 72; cf., later, pp. 442-3.
* ↑ Genealogy etc., III, § 17. Cf. N. Awxentieff's comment, Kulturethisches Ideal Nietzaches, p, 85.
* ↑ Cf. Werke, XIV, 67, § 133; Will to Power, §§ 274, 400.
* ↑ Zarathustra, I, xvii.
* ↑ Pp. 435 ff.
* ↑ The principal passages are Beyond Good and Evil, § 260, and the first treatise of Genealogy of Morals. We have already (p. 124) noticed the anticipatory view of Human, All-too-Human, § 45.
* ↑ See the descriptions in Genealogy etc., 1, § 7.
* ↑ Genealogy etc., I, § 4; Werke, XI, 256, § 236.
* ↑ Ethics, I, 41 (Eng. tr.); cf. H. Paul's Deutsches Wörterbuch, under "schlecht."
* ↑ Genealogy etc., I, § 10.
* ↑ Zarathustra, III, x, § 2.
* ↑ Genealogy etc., I, § 10.
* ↑ Cf.Dawn of Day, § 189; Beyond Good and Evil, § 260; Genealogy etc., I, § 11.
* ↑ Cf.Beyond Good and Evil, § 201; The Wanderer etc., § 31.
* ↑ Cf. Dawn of Day, § 371.
* ↑ Beyond Good and Evil, § 260.
* ↑ Ibid., § 260; Genealogy etc., I, § 2.
* ↑ See the further statement as to terminology in note u to chap, xxix.
* ↑ For example, his view as to the connection of "gut" (and "Goth") with "göttlich," expressed in Genealogy etc., I, § 5. He abandoned it after Brandes had communicated strictures upon it (see Briefe. III, 311-2; cf. 279).
* ↑ So R. M. Meyer, Nietzsche (1913), p. 526 (without mentioning the university by name).
* ↑ Genealogy etc. I, §§ 4, 5; cf. Werke, XI, 256, § 236 (as to höflich, gentile, edel, vomehm, noble, genereux, courtoisie, gentleman).
* ↑ Genealogy etc., I, § 10; cf. § 7 as to "good," "superior," "powerful, "beautiful," "happy," "loved of the Gods."
* ↑ Ethik der alten Griechen, I, 289.
* ↑ Genealogy etc., I, § 5. The prevailing etymologies of bonus are quite different (see Wundt, op. cit., I, 27).
* ↑ Genealogy etc., I, § 5; Cf., however, Nietzsche's reflections on the Greek aristocrats in Dawn of Day, § 199.
* ↑ So Wundt, op. cit., I, 27, citing Abel Bergaigne, Religion védique d'après les hymnes du Rig-Veda, I, 179.
* ↑ Genealogy etc., I, § 5; Cf., as to other terms for the common, heavy-laden, unhappy man, § 10.
* ↑ Op. cit., p. 176. They remark also that "cattivo," the Italian word for "bad," meant originally "captive" (cf. the English "caitiff").
* ↑ Wundt, op. cit., I, 44; Curtius, Griechische Etymologie (5th ed.), p. 370.
* ↑ Genealogy etc., I, § 5.
* ↑ Cf., e.g., Wundt, op. cit., I, 41.
* ↑ Dewey and Tufts admit that "the upper class has been most effectual in shaping language and standards of approval" (op. cit., p. 175).
* ↑ Nietzsche argues this at length in Genealogy etc., I, §§ 1-3.
* ↑ I Corinthians, I, 26-8. See Nietzsche's references to this passage, The Antichristian, §§ 45, 51.
* ↑ Genealogy etc., I, § 15.
* ↑ Quoted by Siramel, op. cit., p. 100.
* ↑ See Beyond Good and Evil, §§ 195, 52; Genealogy etc., I, §§ 7-17 (particularly 7-9 and 14-17); Werke, XIII, 326, § 797; XIV, 68-70.
* ↑ Genealogy etc., I, § 7.
* ↑ Ibid., I, § 2.
* ↑ Ibid., I, § 16.
* ↑ The word which Nietzsche uses, "Umwerthung," is difficult of translation. It is not exact to say "overturning," for this suggests destruction simply; the idea is really of a turning around or altering of values. "Transvaluation" has come into popular use as an equivalent, but I confess that I have to turn it into German to know what it means.
* ↑ Genealogy etc., I, § 17.