Is bravery a learned or instinctive event
 At the risk that moralizing will turn out to be what it always was - namely, undaunted montrer ses plaiesAccording to Balzac, I would dare to oppose an improper and harmful shift in rank which today threatens to establish itself between science and philosophy, completely unnoticed and as if with a clear conscience. I mean, you have to be from his Experience from - experience, I think, always means bad experience? - have a right to have a say on such a higher question of rank: so as not to be like the blind of color or like women and artists against to talk about science (“oh, this bad science!” sighs its instinct and shame, “it always comes behind! «-). The declaration of independence of the scientific man, his emancipation from philosophy, is one of the finer aftereffects of democratic nature and malevolence: the self-glorification and self-arrogance of the scholar is everywhere today in full bloom and in its best springs - which is not to say yet, that in this case self-praise would smell lovely. "Los from all gentlemen!" - this is what the mob instinct wants it here too; and after science has defended itself with the happiest success of theology, whose "maid" it was too long, it is now in full arrogance and misunderstanding to make laws for philosophy and for its part once the "master" - what do I say! the Philosophers to play. My memory - the memory of a scientific person, with all due respect! - bursts with naivety of pride, which I have heard from young naturalists and old doctors about philosophy and philosophers (not to mention the most educated and conceited of all scholars, the philologists and schoolmen, who are both professionally -). Soon it was the specialist and corner stand who instinctively defended himself against all synthetic tasks and  abilities; soon the hardworking worker who smells of the otium and the noble opulence in the philosopher's soul household and felt thereby impaired and diminished. Soon it was that color-blindness of the useful man who sees nothing in philosophy but a series refuted Systems and a wasteful effort that does not "benefit" anyone. Soon the fear of disguised mysticism and the adjustment of the limits of knowledge sprang up; sometimes the disregard of individual philosophers, which involuntarily had generalized to disregard philosophy. Most often, finally, in the case of young scholars, I found behind the haughty disdain for philosophy the bad after-effects of a philosopher himself, whose obedience had been dismissed as a whole without having stepped out of the spell of his dismissive esteem of other philosophers - with the result of an overall - Disapproval of all philosophy. (It seems to me that this is the after-effect of Schopenhauer, for example, on the newest Germany - with his unintelligent anger at Hegel he managed to break the entire last generation of Germans out of the connection with German culture, which culture, everything carefully considered, a height and divinatory delicacy of the historical sense was: but at this point Schopenhauer himself was poor, insensible, un-German to the point of genius.) Generally speaking, it may have been above all the human, all-too-human, in short the poverty of the newer philosophers themselves, what most thoroughly was the Reverence for philosophy has broken off and opened the gates to the mob instincts. One must admit to the extent to which our modern world lacks the whole species of Heraclite, Plato's, Empedocles, and as all these royal and splendid hermits of the spirit were called; and with how justifiably so in view of such representatives of philosophy who today, thanks to fashion, are just as up as down - in Germany, for example, the two lions of Berlin, the anarchist Eugen Dühring and the amalgamist Eduard v. Hartmann - a good person of science feel better kind and descent may. It is especially the sight  of those mishmash philosophers who call themselves "reality philosophers" or "positivists" that is capable of casting a dangerous mistrust into the soul of a young, ambitious scholar: at best they are scholars and specialists themselves , you grab it with your hands! - they are all conquered and under the domination of science Returnedwhich someday more have wanted from themselves without having a right to this "more" and its responsibility - and now, honest, angry, vengeful, the Disbelief to represent the lordship and domination of philosophy with word and deed. Finally: how could it be otherwise! Science is flourishing today and has a good conscience in its face, while what all modern philosophy has gradually sunk into, this remnant of today's philosophy, arouses suspicion and discontent, if not mockery and pity. Philosophy reduced to "epistemology", actually nothing more than a shy epochistics and doctrine of celibacy: a philosophy that does not get over the threshold and embarrasses the right to enter refused - that is philosophy in the last legs, an end, an agony, something that makes you pity. How could such a philosophy - to rule!
The dangers for the development of the philosopher are in truth so manifold today that one would like to doubt whether this fruit can still ripen at all. The scope and the tower of the sciences has grown enormously, and with it the probability that the philosopher becomes tired as a learner or lets himself hold onto something and "specialize": so that he is no longer at his height, namely for an overview, Look around, Look down comes. Or he gets up too late, when his best time and strength are over; or damaged, coarsened, degenerated, so that his gaze, his overall value judgment, means little more. It is precisely the delicacy of his intellectual conscience that may make him hesitate and delay along the way; he fears the temptation to become a dilettante, a thousand feet and a thousand-feeler,  he knows too well that someone who has lost his respect for himself no longer commands, even as a cognizer, no longer leads: he would have to want to become a great actor, a philosophical Cagliostro and pied piper of spirits, in short a seducer. Ultimately, this is a question of taste: if it weren't a question of conscience itself. In addition, to double the difficulty of the philosopher, he demands from himself a judgment, a yes or no not about the sciences but about life and the value of life - that he is reluctant to learn to believe in it, a right or even to have a duty to make this judgment, and only have to seek one's way to that right and that belief out of the most extensive - perhaps the most disturbing, destructive - experiences and often hesitating, doubting, silencing. Indeed, for a long time the crowd confused and misunderstood the philosopher, be it with the scientific man and ideal scholar, be it with the religiously upscale, delusional, "de-worldly" enthusiast and drunkard of God; and if one hears someone praising someone today for living "wisely" or "as a philosopher", it almost no longer means "clever and aloof". Wisdom: to the mob it seems to be a kind of escape, a means and feat of pulling oneself out of a bad game; but the right philosopher - it seems us, my friends? - lives "unphilosophically" and "unwise", above all unwise, and feels the burden and duty of a hundred trials and tribulations in life - he risks yourself constant, he plays the bad game ...
In relation to a genius, that is to say to a being, which either testifies or gives birth"Taking both words to their highest degree - the scholar, the average scientific man, always has something of the old maid: for like the latter, he does not understand the two most valuable human activities. Indeed, they both, the scholars and the old maids, are granted respectability, as it were, as compensation - in these cases the respectability is underlined - and the compulsion to make this concession has the same appendix of annoyance. Let us take a closer look: what is the scientific man? First of all an unpleasant kind of person, with the virtues of an unruly, that is, non-ruling, non-authoritative and also not self-sufficient kind of person: he has hard work, patient classification in rank and file, regularity and measure in ability and needs, he has the instinct for his kind and for what needs his kind, for example that piece of independence and green pasture without which there is no rest in work, that claim to honor and recognition (which first and foremost presupposes recognition, recognizability -), that sunshine of the good Name, that constant seal of its value and its usefulness with which the inward Mistrust, the reason in the heart of all dependent humans and herd animals, has to be overcome again and again. The scholar, how cheap, also has the diseases and bad habits of an unpleasant kind: he is rich in small envy and has a lynx eye for the base of such natures, to whose heights he cannot ascend. He is trusting, but only like someone who goes, but not stream leaves; And it is precisely in front of the man of the great river that he stands there all the colder and more closed - his eye is then like a smooth, reluctant lake in which there is no longer any ripple of rapture or compassion. The worst and most dangerous that a scholar is capable of comes from the instinct of mediocrity of his kind: from that Jesuitism of mediocrity, which instinctively works to destroy the unusual person and to break every tense bow or - even better! - seeks to relax. That is to say, relaxing, with consideration, with a gentle hand, of course - with trusting compassion relax: that is the real art of Jesuitism, which has always known how to introduce itself as the religion of compassion. -
How grateful you are to that objective Spirit may meet - and who would not have been fed up with everything subjective and its accursed ipsissimosity to the point of death! - Finally  one must also learn to be cautious about being grateful and to put a stop to the exaggeration with which the self-denial and depersonalization of the spirit has recently been celebrated as a goal in itself, as redemption and transfiguration: as is particularly the case within the pessimist school It usually happens, which also has good reasons for its part to give "disinterested knowledge" the highest honors. The objective person who no longer curses and curses, like the pessimist, who ideal Scholars, in whom the scientific instinct comes to blossom and bloom after a thousand complete and half failures, is certainly one of the most precious tools there are: but it belongs in the hands of someone who is more powerful. It is just a tool, let's say: it is a mirror - it is not an "end in itself". The objective person is in fact a mirror: above everything that wants to be known, accustomed to submission, without any other pleasure than how it gives knowledge, the "reflection" - he waits until something comes and then spreads out tenderly so that even light footsteps and the slipping past of ghostly beings do not get lost on his surface and skin. What is left of "person" in him seems to him accidental, often arbitrary, even more often disturbing: so much has he become the passage and reflection of strange figures and events. He thinks back to "himself," with effort, often wrongly; he is easy to mix up, he assaults himself with regard to his own necessities and here alone is indecent and negligent. Perhaps he is tormented by the health or the pettiness and room air of his wife and friend, or the lack of companions and company - yes, he forces himself to think about his torment: in vain! Already his thought wanders away to the more general Fall, and tomorrow he knows as little as he knew yesterday how to help him. He has lost seriousness for himself, as well as time: he is cheerful, Not for lack of need, but for lack of fingers and manipulation for his Need. The usual accommodating towards every thing and experience, the sunny and uninhibited hospitality with which he accepts everything that comes across him, his kind of ruthless benevolence, of dangerous carelessness about yes and no: oh, there are enough cases where he does this must atone for his virtues! - and as a person in general, he becomes that too easily caput mortuum of these virtues  If one wants love and hate from him, I mean love and hate as God, woman and animal understand them -: he will do what he can and give what he can. But one shouldn't be surprised if it's not much - if he is just showing himself to be fake, fragile, questionable and rotten. His love is wanted, his hatred is artificial and more un tour de force, a little vanity and exaggeration. It is only genuine insofar as it is allowed to be objective: only in its cheerful totalism is it still "nature" and "natural". His mirroring and eternally smoothing soul no longer knows how to affirm or deny; he does not command, nor does he destroy. »Je ne méprise presque rien«- he says with Leibniz: one overhears and underestimates that presque Not! Nor is he a model person; he neither precedes nor follows anyone; he is in general too far removed for him to have reason to take sides between good and bad. If you keep him with the Philosophers confused with the Caesarean breeder and violent man of culture: so he has been given far too high honors and overlooked the most essential thing about him - he is a tool, a piece of slave, if certainly the most sublime type of slave, but nothing in itself - presque rien! The objective person is a tool, a precious, easily vulnerable and tarnished measuring tool and mirror work of art that should be spared and honored; but he is not a goal, an exit and an ascent, not a complementary person in which that rest Dasein justifies itself, no end - and still less a beginning, a procreation and first cause, nothing crude, powerful, self-contained that wants to be master: rather just a tender, blown-out, flexible pot of forms that points to any content and salary first has to wait in order to "shape" himself according to him - usually a person without salary or content, a "selfless" person. Consequently nothing for women either, in parenthesi. –
If today a philosopher suggests that he is not a skeptic - I hope you have heard that from the description of the objective spirit just given? - so all the world does not like to hear; one looks at him with some shyness, one would like to ask so many things,  to ask ... yes, while listening timidly, as there are now in abundance, he is called dangerous from then on. To them it is as if, when he denied skepticism, they heard some nasty, threatening noise in the distance, as if a new explosive was being tried somewhere, a dynamite of the mind, perhaps a newly discovered Russian nihilin, a pessimism bonae voluntatiswho doesn't just say no, wants no, but - terrible to think! No does. Against this kind of "good will" - a will to actually actually negate life - it is recognized that today there is no better sleeping and sedative than skepticism, the gentle, gentle poppy seed skepticism; and Hamlet himself is today prescribed by the doctors of the time against the "ghost" and its rumbling under the floor.“Isn't your ear already full of bad noises?” Says the skeptic, as a friend of calm and almost as a kind of security police: “This subterranean no is terrible! Quiet at last, you pessimistic moles! 'The skeptic, that affectionate creature, is all too easily frightened; his conscience is trained to twitch at every no, even at a resolute hard yes, and to feel something like a bite. Yes! and no! - that goes against his morality; conversely, he loves to celebrate his virtue with noble abstinence, for example by speaking to Montaigne: "What do I know?" Or with Socrates: "I know that I know nothing." Or: "Here I trust myself no, no door is open to me here. "Or:" If it would be open, why step in? "Or:" What use are all hasty hypotheses for? Not making any hypotheses could easily be part of good taste. Do you have to straighten something crooked right away? Fill every hole with some Werge? Doesn't that have time? Doesn't time have time? Oh, you devils, you can't at all waiting? The unknown also has its charms, the Sphinx is also a Circe, Circe was also a philosopher. ”So a skeptic consoles himself; and it is true that he needs some consolation. For skepticism is the most spiritual expression of a certain multiple physiological condition which is commonly called weakness of nerves and sickness; it arises whenever races or classes long separated from one another cross in a decisive and sudden manner. In the new generation, which as it were inherited various measures and values in the blood, everything is restlessness, disturbance, doubt, attempt; the best forces have an inhibiting effect, the virtues themselves do not allow one another to grow or become strong, balance, weight and perpendicular security are lacking in body and soul. But what is most deeply ill and degenerated in such mixed-bloods is that will: They know the independence in the decision, the brave feeling of pleasure in willing no longer at all - they doubt the "freedom of will" even in their dreams. Our Europe today, the scene of an absurdly sudden attempt by radical estates and consequently Racial mixture, is therefore skeptical in all ups and downs, sometimes with that agile skepticism, which jumps impatiently and lustfully from one branch to another, sometimes as cloudy as a cloud overloaded with question marks - and often fed up with its will until death! Paralysis of will: where can you not find this cripple sitting today! And often still as if cleaned! How seductively dressed up! There are the most beautiful ostentatious and lying dresses for this disease; and that, for example, most of what is known today as "objectivity", "science", "l'art pour l'art"," Pure free-willed recognition "in the shop, is just dressed up skepticism and paralysis of will - I want to vouch for this diagnosis of the European disease. - The disease of the will is unevenly spread across Europe: it is greatest and most diverse there, where culture has been at home for the longest time; it disappears to the extent that "the barbarian" is still - or again - under the sloppy garb of Western education asserts its right. In present-day France, therefore, as one can understand it just as easily as with one's hands, the will is most seriously ill; and France, which has always had a masterful ability to reverse the fateful turns of its mind into the charming and seductive, today really shows its cultural preponderance over Europe as a school and display of all the magic of skepticism. The strength to will, and indeed to want for a long will, is already somewhat stronger in Germany, and in turn stronger in the north of Germany than in the center of Germany; much stronger in England, Spain and Corsica, there tied to the phlegm, here to hard skulls - not to speak of Italy, which is too young to already know what it wanted and must first prove whether it is can want - but most of all and most astonishingly in that immense intermediate empire, where Europe flows back, as it were, to Asia, in Russia. There the force to will has long been put back and stored up, there the will waits - uncertain whether as a will of negation or affirmation - in a threatening way to be triggered in order to borrow the body word of today's physicists. Not only Indian wars and entanglements in Asia should be necessary so that Europe is relieved of its greatest danger, but also internal upheavals, the fragmentation of the empire into small bodies and, above all, the introduction of parliamentary nonsense, including the obligation for everyone to Breakfast reading his newspaper. I am not saying this as one who wishes: the opposite would be more after my heart - I mean such an increase in the threat to Russia that Europe would have to decide to become equally threatening, namely to get a will, through the means of a new caste ruling over Europe, a long, terrible will of its own, which could set itself goals for millennia - so that the long-drawn comedy of his small states and his dynastic as well as democratic loyalty would finally come to an end. The time for small politics is over: the next century already brings the struggle for the dominion of the earth - the force to big politics.
To what extent the new warlike age into which we Europeans have evidently entered may also be conducive to the development of a different and stronger kind of skepticism, I would like to express myself for the time being by means of a parable which friends of German history will understand. That unobjectionable enthusiast for beautiful tall grenadiers who, as King of Prussia, gave birth to a military and skeptical genius - and thus basically to that new type of German who has just emerged victorious - the dubious, mad father of Frederick the Great , had in one Points even the grip and the lucky claw of the genius: he knew what was lacking in Germany at that time, and which lack was a hundred times more fearful and urgent than, say, the lack of education and social form - his aversion to young Friedrich came from fear of a deep instinct. Men were absent; and he suspected, to his bitterest annoyance, that his own son was not man enough. In this he deceived himself: but who would not have deceived himself in his place? He saw his son the atheism, the esprit, succumbed to the pleasurable light-heartedness of witty French people - in the background he saw the big blood sucker, the spider skepticism, he suspected the incurable misery of a heart that is no longer hard enough for both evil and good, a broken will that no longer commands command more can. But meanwhile that more dangerous and harsher new kind of skepticism grew up in his son - who knows, how much favored precisely by the hatred of the father and by the icy melancholy of a lonely will? - the skepticism of daring masculinity, which is closely related to the genius of war and conquest and made its first entry into Germany in the figure of the great Friedrich. This skepticism despises and nevertheless takes hold; it undermines and takes possession; she doesn't believe, but she doesn't get lost in it; it gives the mind dangerous freedom, but it keeps the heart strict; it is the German Form of skepticism, which, as a continued and spiritually intensified Fredericianism, brought Europe a good time under the domination of the German spirit and its critical and historical mistrust. Thanks to the indomitable strong and tenacious man character of the great German philologists and history critics (who, rightly speaking, were all artists of destruction and disintegration) gradually emerged despite all the romanticism in music and philosophy newer Concept of the German spirit, in which the tendency towards male skepticism emerged decisively: be it, for example, as the fearlessness of the gaze, as the bravery and hardness of the dissecting hand, as the tenacious will to dangerous expeditions, to spiritual expeditions to the North Pole beneath desolate and dangerous skies. There may be good reasons for warm-blooded and superficial humanity people to cross themselves in front of this spirit: cet esprit fataliste, ironique, méphistophélique calls him, not without a shudder, Michelet. But if one wants to feel how characteristic this fear of the "man" is in the German spirit, through whom Europe was awakened from its "dogmatic slumber," one should remember the former concept that had to be overcome with it - and how it It is not too long ago that a masculine woman was allowed to dare with unrestrained presumption to recommend the Germans to the participation of Europe as gentle, good-hearted, weak-willed and poetic boobies. Finally, one should understand deeply enough Napoleon's astonishment when he saw Goethe: it reveals what had been thought for centuries under the "German spirit". »Voilá un homme! "- that meant to say:" That's a man! And I was only expecting a German! «-
Assuming, therefore, that in the image of the philosophers of the future there is some trait to guess whether they might not, in the last indicated sense, be skeptics, that would only mean something about them - and Not they themselves. With the same right they might be called critics; and certainly it will be people of experiments. With the name I dared to name her, I have already expressly underlined the attempt and the joy of trying: this happened because, as critics of body and soul, you, as a critic of body and soul, may expand the experiment in a new, perhaps, perhaps love to use dangerous senses? Must they, in their passion for knowledge, go further with daring and painful attempts than the meek and pampered taste of a democratic century can approve? - There is no doubt: those who are to come will be least able to shed those serious and not harmless qualities which set the critic apart from the skeptic, I mean the security  of the measures of value, the conscious handling of a unit of method, the shrewd courage, that Standing alone and being able to take responsibility; yes, they confess one to themselves Lust in saying no and dissecting and a certain level of prudent cruelty, which the knife knows how to use safely and finely, even when the heart is bleeding. you will be harder to be (and perhaps not always only against himself), as humane people may wish, they will not get involved with the "truth" so that it "please" them or "exalt" and "inspire" them - their faith will rather be low that just the truth bring such merrymaking to the feeling. You will smile, these stern spirits, when someone in front of you said: "That thought lifts me up: how should it not be true?" Or: "that work delights me: how should it not be beautiful?" Or: "that artist enlarges me: how should he not be tall? ”- they may not only have a smile, but a real disgust, especially those enthusiastic, idealistic, feminine, hermaphrodite ready, and whoever knew how to follow them into their secret chambers of the heart would hardly be there find the intention to reconcile "Christian feelings" with "ancient tastes" and perhaps even with "modern parliamentarism" (as the same forgiveness is supposed to occur even among philosophers in our very uncertain and consequently very conciliatory century). Critical discipline and any habituation that leads to cleanliness and rigor in things of the spirit, these philosophers of the future will not only demand of themselves: they will be allowed to display them like their own kind of jewelry - nevertheless they do not want to be called critics. It does not seem to them a small disgrace that is done to philosophy when one decrees, as is so often done today: "Philosophy itself is criticism and critical science - and nothing else!" May this appreciation of philosophy win the approval of all positivists in France and delight Germany (- and it would be possible that they even to the heart and taste Kant's would have flattered: just remember the title of his main works -): our new philosophers will still say: critics are tools of the philosopher and precisely because of that, as tools, they are far from being philosophers themselves! Even the great Chinese from Königsberg was only a great critic. -
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