s
of mastery, with Nietsche's "pathos of distance," separating class from
class. The "instinct for rank," and "delight in the nuances of
reverence," are not signs of nobility, as Nietsche would have it.
There is no nose for them so {30} sensitive and discriminating as that
of the chambermaid or butler. The mere pride of an easy mastery over
slaves is the taint of every society in which class differences are
recognized as fixed. It attaches to all classes; whether it be called
snobbery or obsequiousness, it is all one. The virtue of mastery, on
the other hand, lies in the power and in the attainment which it
represents.

And this Nietsche himself fully admits in his less inspired but more
thoughtful utterances. It is "the constant struggle with uniform
unfavorable conditions" that fixes the type he admires. When there are
no more enemies, "the bond and constraint of the old discipline
severs," and a rapid decay sets in; which leads inevitably, after a
chaos of individualism, to a period of mediocrity such as the present.
In other words, so soon as its political and social activities are
confined to "lording it," the aristocracy loses its vigor, and falls an
easy prey to democratic or other propagandists _who want something and
are united to attain it_.

Now it seems that if man is not to become spiritually bankrupt, he must
be confronted with unfavorable conditions that keep him vigilant and
alert. Nietsche has no imagination for resistance, struggle, and
victory, except as these arise in the war of man against man. His
heroes are Alcibiades, Caesar, and Frederick II, "men {31} predestined
for conquering and circumventing others." But it is not easy for us of
this day to forget the others; it is the cost to them that galls our
conscience. We cannot sincerely applaud a heroism in which life is
condemned to feed on itself. Shall the only enemy that never fails,
the condition that is always indifferent if not unfavorable, namely,
the perpetual wear and drag of nature, be forgotten in order that men
may fall on one another? Has man no more lordly task than that of
destroying what he holds to be good? Is there no more of "creative
plenipotence" in man than killing and robbing?

I am convinced that it needs only enlightenment to reduce Nietsche's
circumventer of others to the proportions of a burglar; and to enlarge
to truly heroic proportions him who circumvents the blindness of
nature, brings up the weak or