of confinement, at its worst, is real. "Beware lest in the end
a narrow faith capture thee," says Zarathustra, "for now everything that
is narrow and fixed seduceth and tempteth thee."

Chapter LXX. Noontide.

At the noon of life Nietzsche said he entered the world; with him
man came of age. We are now held responsible for our actions; our old
guardians, the gods and demi-gods of our youth, the superstitions and
fears of our childhood, withdraw; the field lies open before us; we
lived through our morning with but one master--chance--; let us see to
it that we MAKE our afternoon our own (see Note XLIX., Part III.).

Chapter LXXI. The Greeting.

Here I think I may claim that my contention in regard to the purpose and
aim of the whole of Nietzsche's philosophy (as stated at the beginning
of my Notes on Part IV.) is completely upheld. He fought for "all who
do not want to live, unless they learn again to HOPE--unless THEY learn
(from him) the GREAT hope!" Zarathustra's address to his guests shows
clearly enough how he wished to help them: "I DO NOT TREAT MY WARRIORS
INDULGENTLY," he says: "how then could ye be fit for MY warfare?" He
rebukes and spurns them, no word of love comes from his lips. Elsewhere
he says a man should be a hard bed to his friend, thus alone can he be
of use to him. Nietzsche would be a hard bed to higher men. He would
make them harder; for, in order to be a law unto himself, man must
possess the requisite hardness. "I wait for higher ones, stronger ones,
more triumphant ones, merrier ones, for such as are built squarely in
body and soul." He says in par. 6 of "Higher Man":--

"Ye higher men, think ye that I am here to put right what ye have put
wrong? Or that I wished henceforth to make snugger couches for you
sufferers? Or show you restless, miswandering, misclimbing ones new and
easier footpaths?"

"Nay! Nay! Three times nay! Always more, always better ones of your type
shall succumb--for ye shall always have it worse and harder."

Chapter LXXII. The Supper.

In the first seven verses of this discourse, I cannot help seeing
a gentle allusion to Schopenhauer's habits as a bon-vivant. For a
pessimist, be it remembered, Schopenhauer led quite an extraordinary
life. He ate well, loved well, played the flute well, and I believe he
smoked the best cigars. What follows is clear enough.

Chapter LXXIII. The Higher Man. Par. 1.

Nietzsche admits, here, that at one time he had thought of appealing