independently necessary feature in the history of Rome and of the world. It was not, then, his
private gain merely, but an unconscious impulse that occasioned the accomplishment of that for
which the time was ripe. Such are all great historical men — whose own particular aims involve
those large issues which are the will of the World-Spirit. They may be called Heroes, inasmuch as
they have derived their purposes and their vocation, not from the calm, regular course of things,
sanctioned by the existing order; but from a concealed fount — one which has not attained to
phenomenal, present existence, — from that inner Spirit, still hidden beneath the surface, which,
impinging on the outer world as on a shell, bursts it in pieces, because it is another kernel than that
which belonged to the shell in question. They are men, therefore, who appear to draw the impulse
of their life from themselves; and whose deeds have produced a condition of things and a complex
of historical relations which appear to be only their interest, and their work.
§ 33
Such individuals had no consciousness of the general Idea they were unfolding, while prosecuting
those aims of theirs; on the contrary, they were practical, political men. But at the same time they
were thinking men, who had an insight into the requirements of the time — what was ripe for
development. This was the very Truth for their age, for their world; the species next in order, so
to speak, and which was already formed in the womb of time. It was theirs to know this nascent
principle; the necessary, directly sequent step in progress, which their world was to take; to make
this their aim, and to expend their energy in promoting it. World-historical men — the Heroes of an
epoch — must, therefore, be recognised as it's clear-sighted ones; their deeds, their words are
the best of that time. Great men have formed purposes to satisfy themselves, not others. Whatever
prudent designs and counsels they might have learned from others, would be the more limited and
inconsistent features in their career; for it was they who best understood affairs; from whom
others learned, and approved, or at least acquiesced in their policy. For that Spirit which had
taken this fresh step in history is the inmost soul of all individuals; but in a state of unconsciousness
which the great men in question aroused. Their fellows, therefore, follow these soul-leaders; for
they feel the irresistible power of their own inner Spirit thus embodied. If we go on to cast a look
at the fate of these World-Historical persons, whose vocation it was to be the agents of the
World-Spirit, — we shall find it to have been no happy one. They attained no calm enjoyment;
their whole life was labour and trouble; their whole nature was nought else but their
master-passion. When their object is attained they fall off like empty hulls from the kernel. They
die early, like Alexander; they are murdered, like Caesar; transported to St. Helena., like
Napoleon. This fearful consolation — that historical men have not enjoyed what is called
happiness, and of which only private life (and this may be passed under very various external
circumstances) is capable, — this consolation those may draw from history, who stand in need of
it; and it is craved by Envy — vexed at what is great and transcendent, — striving, therefore, to
depreciate it, and to find some flaw in it. Thus in modern times it has been demonstrated ad
nauseam that princes are generally unhappy on their thrones; in consideration of which the
possession of a throne is tolerated, and men acquiesce in the fact that not themselves but the
personages in question are its occupants. The Free Man, we may observe, is not envious, but
gladly recognises what is great and exalted, and rejoices that it exists.
§ 34
It is in the light of those common elements which constitute the interest and therefore the passions
of individuals, that these historical men are to be regarded. They are great men, because they
willed and accomplished something great; not a mere fancy, a mere intention, but that which met
the case and fell in with the needs of the age. This mode of considering them also excludes the
so-called “psychological” view, which — serving the purpose of envy most effectually - contrives
so to refer all actions to the heart, — to bring them under such a subjective aspect — as that their
authors appear to have done everything under the impulse of some passion, mean or grand, —
some morbid craving, — and on account of these passions and cravings to have been not moral
men. Alexander of Macedon partly subdued Greece, and then Asia; therefore he was possessed
by a morbid craving for conquest. He is alleged to have acted from a craving for fame, for
conquest; and the proof that these were the impelling motives is that he did that which resulted in
fame. What pedagogue has not demonstrated of Alexander the Great — of Julius Caesar — that
they were instigated by such passions, and were consequently immoral men, — whence the
conclusion immediately follows that he, the pedagogue, is a better man than they, because he has
not such passions; a proof of which lies in the fact that he does not conquer Asia, — vanquish
Darius and Porus, — but while he enjoys life himself lets others enjoy it too. These psychologists
are particularly fond of contemplating those peculiarities of great historical figures which appertain
to them as private persons. Man must eat and drink; he sustains relations to friends and
acquaintances; he has passing impulses and ebullitions of temper. “No man is a hero to his
valet-de-chambre,” is a well-known proverb; I have added — and Goethe repeated it ten years
later — “but not because the former is no hero, but because the latter is a valet.” He takes off the
hero's boots, assists him to bed, knows that he prefers champagne, &c. Historical personages
waited upon in historical literature by such psychological valets, come poorly off; they are brought
down by these their attendants to a level with — or rather a few degrees below the level of — the
morality of such exquisite discerners of spirits. The Thersites of Homer who abuses the kings is a
standing figure for all times. Blows — that is beating with a solid cudgel — he does not get in every
age as in the Homeric one; but his envy, his egotism, is the thorn which he has to carry in his flesh;
and the undying worm that gnaws him is the tormenting consideration that his excellent views and
vituperations remain absolutely without result in the world. But our satisfaction at the fate of
Thersitism also, may have its sinister side.
§ 35
A World-historical individual is not so unwise as to indulge a variety of wishes to divide his
regards. He is devoted to the One Aim, regardless of all else. It is even possible that such men
may treat other great, even sacred interests, inconsiderately; conduct which is indeed obnoxious to
moral reprehension. But so mighty a form must trample down many an innocent flower-crush to
pieces many an object in its path.
§ 36
The special interest of passion is thus inseparable from the active development of a general
principle: for it is from the special and determinate and from its negation, that the Universal results.
Particularity contends with its like, and some loss is involved in the issue. It is not the general idea
that is implicated in opposition and combat, and that is exposed to danger. It remains in the
background, untouched and uninjured. This may be called the cunning of reason, — that it sets
the passions to work for itself, while that which develops its existence through such impulsion pays
the penalty and suffers loss. For it is phenomenal being that is so treated, and of this, part is of no
value, part is positive and real. The particular is for the most part of too trifling value as compared
with the general: individuals are sacrificed and abandoned. The Idea pays the penalty of
determinate existence and of corruptibility, not from itself, but from the passions of individuals.
§ 37
But though we might tolerate the idea that individuals, their desires and the gratification of them,
are thus sacrificed, and their happiness given up to the empire of chance, to which it belongs; and
that as a general rule, individuals come under the category of means to an ulterior end, — there is
one aspect of human individuality which we should hesitate to regard in that subordinate light, even
in relation to the highest; since it is absolutely no subordinate element, but exists in those individuals
as inherently eternal and divine. I mean morality, ethics, religion. Even when speaking of the
realisation of the great ideal aim by means of individuals, the subjective element in them — their
interest and that of their cravings and impulses, their views and judgments, though exhibited as the
merely formal side of their existence, — was spoken of as having an infinite right to be consulted.
The first idea that presents itself in speaking of means is that of something external to the object,
and having no share in the object itself. But merely natural things — even the commonest lifeless
objects — used as means, must be of such a kind as adapts them to their purpose; they must
possess something in common with it. Human beings least of all, sustain the bare external relation
of mere means to the great ideal aim. Not only do they in the very act of realising it, make it the
occasion of satisfying personal desires, whose purport is diverse from that aim — but they share in
that ideal aim itself; and are for that very reason objects of their own existence; not formally
merely, as the world of living beings generally is — whose individual life is essentially subordinate
to that of man, and is properly used up as an instrument. Men, on the contrary, are objects of
existence to themselves, as regards the intrinsic import of the aim in question. To this order
belongs that in them which we would exclude from the category of mere means, - Morality, Ethics,
Religion. That is to say, man is an object of existence in himself only in virtue of the Divine that is in
him, — that which was designated at the outset as Reason; which, in view of its activity and power
of self-determination, was called Freedom. And we affirm — without entering at present on the
proof of the assertion -that Religion, Morality, &c. have their foundation and source in that
principle, and so are essentially elevated above all alien necessity and chance. And here we must
remark that individuals, to the extent of their freedom, are responsible for the depravation and
enfeeblement of morals and religion. This is the seal of the absolute and sublime destiny of man —
that be knows what is good and what is evil; that his destiny is his very ability to will either good or
evil, — in one word, that he is the subject of moral imputation, imputation not only of evil, but of
good; and not only concerning this or that particular matters and all that happens ab extra, but
also the good and evil attaching to his individual freedom. The brute alone is simply innocent. It
would, however demand an extensive explanation — as extensive as the analysis of moral freedom
itself — to preclude or obviate all the misunderstandings which the statement that what is called
innocent imports the entire unconsciousness of evil — is wont to occasion.
§ 38
In contemplating the fate which virtue, morality, even piety experience in history, we must not fall
into the Litany of Lamentations, that the good and pious often — or for the most part — fare ill in
the world, while the evil-disposed and wicked prosper. The term prosperity is used in a variety of
meanings — riches, outward honour, and the like. But in speaking of something which in and for
itself constitutes an aim of existence, that so-called well or ill-faring of these or those isolated
individuals cannot be regarded as an essential element in the rational order of the universe. With
more justice than happiness — or a fortunate environment for individuals, — it is demanded of the
grand aim of the world's existence, that it should foster, nay involve the execution and ratification
of good, moral, righteous purposes. What makes men morally discontented (a discontent, by the
bye, on which they somewhat pride themselves), is that they do not find the present adapted to the
realisation of aims which they hold to be right and just (more especially in modern times, ideals of
political constitutions); they contrast unfavourably things as they are, with their idea of things as
they ought to be. In this case it is not private interest nor passion that desires gratification, but
Reason, Justice, Liberty; and equipped with this title, the demand in question assumes a lofty
bearing, and readily adopts a position not merely of discontent, but of open revolt against the
actual condition of the world. To estimate such a feeling and such views aright, the demands
insisted upon, and the very dogmatic opinions asserted, must be examined. At no time so much as
in our own, have such general principles and notions been advanced, or with greater assurance. If
in days gone by, history seems to present itself as a struggle of passions; in our time — though
displays of passion are not wanting — it exhibits partly a predominance of the struggle of notions
assuming the authority of principles; partly that of passions and interests essentially subjective, but
under the mask of such higher sanctions. The pretensions thus contended for as legitimate in the
name of that which has been stated as the ultimate aim of Reason, pass accordingly, for absolute
aims, — to the same extent as Religion, Morals, Ethics. Nothing, as before remarked, is now more
common than the complaint that the ideals which imagination sets up are not realised — that these
glorious dreams are destroyed by cold actuality. These Ideals — which in the voyage of life
founder on the rocks of hard reality — may be in the first instance only subjective, and belong to
the idiosyncrasy of the individual, imagining himself the highest and wisest. Such do not properly
belong to this category. For the fancies which the individual in his isolation indulges, cannot be the
