I know. It is more nervous, more varied, more rapid in tempo; it
runs to more effective climaxes; it is never stodgy. His marks begin to
show upon the writing of the younger Germans of today. They are getting
away from the old thunderous manner, with its long sentences and its
tedious grammatical complexities. In the course of time, I daresay, they
will develop a German almost as clear as French and almost as colourful
and resilient as English.

I owe thanks to Dr. Levy for his _imprimatur_, to Mr. Theodor Hemberger
for criticism, and to Messrs. Common and Ludovici for showing me the way
around many a difficulty.

H. L. MENCKEN.

PREFACE

This book belongs to the most rare of men. Perhaps not one of them is
yet alive. It is possible that they may be among those who understand my
"Zarathustra": how _could_ I confound myself with those who are now
sprouting ears?--First the day after tomorrow must come for me. Some men
are born posthumously.

The conditions under which any one understands me, and _necessarily_
understands me--I know them only too well. Even to endure my
seriousness, my passion, he must carry intellectual integrity to the
verge of hardness. He must be accustomed to living on mountain tops--and
to looking upon the wretched gabble of politics and nationalism as
_beneath_ him. He must have become indifferent; he must never ask of the
truth whether it brings profit to him or a fatality to him.... He must
have an inclination, born of strength, for questions that no one has the
courage for; the courage for the _forbidden_; predestination for the
labyrinth. The experience of seven solitudes. New ears for new music.
New eyes for what is most distant. A new conscience for truths that have
hitherto remained unheard. _And_ the will to economize in the grand
manner--to hold together his strength, his enthusiasm.... Reverence for
self; love of self; absolute freedom of self....

Very well, then! of that sort only are my readers, my true readers, my
readers foreordained: of what account are the _rest_?--The rest are
merely humanity.--One must make one's self superior to humanity, in
power, in _loftiness_ of soul,--in contempt.

FRIEDRICH W. NIETZSCHE.

THE ANTICHRIST

1.

--Let us look each other in the face. We are Hyperboreans--we know well
enough how remote our place is. "Neither by land nor by water will you
find the road to the Hyperborea