NIETZSCHE HIS LIFE AND WORKS [Philosophies Ancient and Modern] BY ANTHONY M. LUDOVICI AUTHOR OF 'Who is to be Master of the World?' AND 'Notes to Zarathustra' PREFACE BY DR. OSCAR LEVY CONSTABLE & COMPANY LTD London 1910 Introduction The commission for a book on Nietzsche, to form the latest addition to a series of famous philosophers, is most certainly a sign that the age of adversity, through which the earlier Nietzscheans had to struggle, has at last come to an end. For ten consecutive years they had had no reply whatever to their propaganda, and their publications, loud as some of them were, proved as ineffective as cannon shots fired into the eternity of interplanetary space. Finally, however, when the echo was at last heard, it gave back nothing like the original sound: it was an echo of groans and moans, an echo of roaring disapproval and hissing mockery. Yet the years rolled on and on--and so did the printing-presses--hissing and roaring as much as ever--but at last, their thunders grew tamer and more subdued--the tempest of their fury seemed to die away in the distance--occasionally a slight mutter was still to be heard, but no more flashes and hisses--and suddenly a streak of blue was observed over the horizon, followed by a ray and smile of sunlight--and a soft zephyr of subdued and tentative compliments--and when our Nietzsche edition had begun to appear in its stately volumes we were enabled to receive from our former enemies on both sides of the Atlantic "respectful congratulations." And now all my brave friends are radiant with joy and optimism. Like the wanderer in the fairy tale, while the storm of disgust and loud reproach was raging, they wrapped themselves all the more closely in their cloaks, and no impudent wind could tear a shred of garments from them, but now that the sun of approval has set in, they would fain get out of their armour and enjoy the fine weather as a reward for past perils. Has not the spring come at last? Are not the gay flowers at our feet meant to welcome the victorious warriors?... Are not the ladies --ladies that from time immemorial have loved the warrior (especially when he is successful)--smiling at us more gloriously even than the sun?... Sun, ladies, flowers, smiles--was there ever a nicer combination?... But, alas! there is an unimaginative creature among the guests, an earnest face among the cheerful, a disbeliever among the faithful, a dark countenance amid the bright assembly;--a being who, in glaring contrast to the sun, the smiles, and the gaily-coloured dresses and sunshades, is keeping a tight hold upon a dark umbrella--for he has an uncontrollable mistrust of English weather!