eyes. The manifold torments of the
psychologist who has discovered this ruination, who discovers once, and
then discovers almost repeatedly throughout all history, this universal
inner "hopelessness" of higher men, this eternal "too late!" in every
sense--may perhaps one day be the cause of his "going to the dogs" himself.
In almost every psychologist we may see a tell-tale predilection in favour
of intercourse with commonplace and well-ordered men: and this betrays how
constantly he requires healing, that he needs a sort of flight and
forgetfulness, away from what his insight and incisiveness--from what his
"business"--has laid upon his conscience. A horror of his memory is typical
of him. He is easily silenced by the judgment of others, he hears with
unmoved countenance how people honour, admire, love, and glorify, where he
has opened his eyes and _seen_--or he even conceals his silence by
expressly agreeing with some obvious opinion. Perhaps the paradox of his
situation becomes so dreadful that, precisely where he has learnt _great
sympathy_, together with _great contempt_, the educated have on their part
learnt great reverence. And who knows but in all great instances, just
this alone happened: that the multitude worshipped a God, and that the
"God" was only a poor sacrificial animal! _Success_ has always been the
greatest liar--and the "work" itself, the _deed_, is a success too; the
great statesman, the conqueror, the discoverer, are disguised in their
creations until they can no longer be recognised, the "work" of the
artist, of the philosopher, only invents him who has created it, who is
reputed to have created it, the "great men," as they are reverenced, are
poor little fictions composed afterwards; in the world of historical
values counterfeit coinage _prevails_.

2.

Those great poets, for example, such as Byron, Musset, Poe, Leopardi,
Kleist, Gogol (I do not dare to mention much greater names, but I imply
them), as they now appear, and were perhaps obliged to be: men of the
moment, sensuous, absurd, versatile, light-minded and quick to trust and
to distrust, with souls in which usually some flaw has to be concealed,
often taking revenge with their works for an internal blemish, often
seeking forgetfulness in their soaring from a too accurate memory,
idealists out of proximity to the mud:--what a _torment_ these great
artists are and the so-called higher men in general, to him who has once
found them ou