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Leipzig, January 12, 1866: My dear aunt, I do not need to look at the family calendar to be reminded that January 13th2 calls for a letter from me. There are clear blue skies today and the New Year is starting out as if it were putting the spring days ahead of the winter months. How different it is when the heavy, damp fog takes our breath and our view away; one easily scrambles into one's room in a hypochondriacal mood and thinks of what is to come with an anguished heart. Thus today, dear aunt, when the sky is clear and blue, I am writing to you my best birthday wishes. I am involuntarily made to prophesy happy hopes and bright prospects by the weather; it is as if the new year wanted to assure you of its grace and favor with, as it were, a hearty handshake. May it also accomodate you in a friendly manner under all circumstances and guide you happily through all work, toil and evil days. I, my dear aunt, have fared well so far. I still live off the nice memory of the Christmas holidays,3 which I particularly enjoyed this time. Here I was immediately occupied with busy work; compelled to do so from all sides. This brings with it the uncommon breadth and development of our studies. Our philological society4 held its first official meeting last night,5 to everyone's satisfaction. Next Thursday I will give my lecture.6 We have a nice room and now number 10 men.7 You must have read in the newspapers about another report that interests us here. There was talk of a visit from the King,8 the professors' breeches were armed and had caused terror and anxiety among the faculty; among other things it was announced that the King also wanted to attend a lecture by Ritschl. This has now, of course, been interrupted due to the King's trip to Munich.9 Perhaps it will no longer be news to you how the philological faculty in Bonn was expanded. Usener from Greifswald and Berna[y]s in Breslau10 are the chosen, very capable, highly-renowned people, but — wonder of wonders! pretty much the most extreme Ritschelians that exist now. They drive the master away,11 then afterwards try to keep him and finally call two of his [former] students to take his place. I now often think about at which Prussian university I should take my exams. The question is harder than you think and I am still very much undecided. In the meantime, it is certain that until Michaelmas12 I will stay in Leipzig, where I am doing particularly well. I have nothing more to tell you, dear aunt; I ask you to give my best regards to Aunt Riekchen.13 Once again expressing my best wishes to you and for your continued love and interest in my life and my studies, I remain Your Friedrich Nietzsche. 1. Rosalie Nietzsche (1811-1867), his paternal aunt, died on 01-03-1867. Nietzsche describes his vigil at her deathbed in two letters. Naumburg, January 4, 1867: Letter to Hermann Mushacke in Berlin. In German; in English. "Schließlich habe ich keinen Grund, Dir zu verhehlen, daß ich heute sehr traurig gestimmt bin. Gestern um diese Zeit nämlich stand ich am Sterbebette meiner Tante Rosalie, die, um es kurz zu sagen, nächst meiner Mutter und Schwester die bei weitem intimste und nächste Verwandte von mir war, und mit der ein großes Stück meiner Vergangenheit, besonders meiner Kindheit von mir gegangen ist, ja, in der unsre ganze Familiengeschichte, unsre Verwandtschaftlichen Beziehungen so lebendig und gegenwärtig waren, so daß nach dieser Seite hin der Verlust unersetzlich ist." (Finally, I have no reason to hide from you the fact that I am very sad today. For at about this time yesterday I was standing at the deathbed of my Aunt Rosalie, who, to put it briefly, was by far, besides my mother and sister, the most intimate and closest relative of mine and with whom a large part of my past, especially my childhood, has left me, indeed, one in which our entire family history, and our family relationships were so alive and present that in this regard the loss is irreplaceable.) Leipzig, January 16, 1867: Letter to Carl von Gersdorff in Spandau. In German; in English. "[E]s war ebenfalls in den ersten Tagen des Januars, wo auch ich in Naumburg an einem Sterbebette stand, an dem einer nahen Verwandten, die nächst Mutter und Schwester die nächsten Anrechte auf meine Liebe und Verehrung hatte, die treulich an meinem Lebenswege Antheil genommen hatte, und mit der ein ganzes Stück meiner Vergangenheit und vornehmlich meiner Kindheit von uns gewichen ist." (It was also in the first days of January in Naumburg when I too stood at the deathbed of a close relative who, next to my mother and sister, had the most right to my love and esteem, who had faithfully taken an interest in my life's journey, and with whom a great part of my past and especially my childhood has departed from us.)
Leipzig, January 31, 1866: Dear Mama, Although you will see me on Sunday1 and can therefore receive my congratulations in person, I would still be sorry if your birthday table2 on Friday showed no sign of life from me. That is why my musical present3 arrives today, which shall demonstrate to you my heartfelt feelings and wishes in an audible form. I simply consider it more dignified, indeed undoubtedly more pleasant for you, when you receive some of my intellectual productions. But today's Kyrie4 is also a rare phenomenon, since I have not composed for more than a year and only in consideration of your birthday did I return to the activity I had almost abandoned. So take it kindly for now. On Sunday I will explain it to you in detail and play it. As is to be expected, the weather will be so fine and spring-like on your birthday that you can enter the new year with joyful and cheerful auspices. Thus we will spend a large part of it closely together, but at the end of it we can again be physically very distant from one anther. And so the next few years will continue to make our get-togethers rarer and rarer. From which it follows that we still have to make use of the present time. And so I then hope that we will spend a really merry Sunday together; if nobody is invited, that would suit me best. For we do not need any guests in order to feel at ease with one another. I am quite well, I enjoy our philological society,5 which brings us all together on Thursdays; there are very kind people among them.6 I gave my lecture on the Theognidean Redaction,7 and it aroused much interest. Next Thursday we will listen to Dr. Kinkel about the origin of Greek art;8 we have become a little more closely acquainted. In the last few days, the King9 was in Leipzig and attended lectures from morning to evening accompanied by a minister and a general, including Ritschl, of course. I particularly like him, he is a fine, learned mind, whose nature has something warm and gentle about it, nothing at all like a non-commissioned officer like other kings. There is a rumor that the engagement of Ritschl's daughter Ida has been publicized recently, allegedly to Doctor Löning, who distinguished himself in the Jahn-Ritschl dispute.10 I have now arranged a weekly evening with Gersdorff on which we read Greek together; with him and Mushacke11 once every fortnight, when there is Schopenhauering. This philosopher occupies a very significant place in my thoughts and in my studies, and my respect for him increases incomparably too.12 I also make propaganda for him and lead certain people, such as e.g. my cousin,13 to him by the nose. But that has been of little use. For with all veritable Saxons it is always "primum vivere, deinde philosophari"14 "first live, then philosophize." With that I will close and save for Sunday what else still needs to be said. May all good and refreshing things be near you in the New Year! Your Fritz. 1. February 4. Nietzsche got sick and did not go to Naumburg.
Naumburg, April 7, 1866: Dear friend, Occasionally come those hours of quiet contemplation, where one stands above one's life with a mixture of joy and sorrow, like those lovely summer days that comfortably sprawl across the hills, as Emerson describes them so well.1 Then nature becomes perfect, as he says, and we: then we are free from the spell of the ever watchful will; then we are pure, contemplative, impartial eye.2 In this mood, for which I yearn above all others, I take up my pen in order to reply to your kind and thoughtful letter. Our common concerns3 are fused into a small residue: we have seen once more how by a few strokes of the pen, ultimately perhaps even by random whims of individuals, the fates of countless people are determined, and we are glad to leave it to the pious to thank their god for these whims. It may be that this reflection will make us laugh when we meet again in Leipzig. From the most personal point of view, I had already familiarized myself with the military idea. I often wished to be pulled away from my monotonous work, was eager for the opposites, for excitement, for the tempestuous urge for a life, for enthusiasm. For, as much as I have exerted myself, it has really become clear to me day by day that one cannot come up with work4 just like that. During vacation I have learned — relatively — a good deal, and after vacation my Theognis finds itself at least one semester ahead. What is more, I have found many illuminating things, which should enrich my quaestiones Theogn[ideae]. I am walled in by books — thanks to Corssen's uncommon kindness.5 I must also say something about Volckmann [sic], who has really helped me, especially with the whole Suidas literature, on which he is the chief expert.6 I have immersed myself in this field so well that I have independently enlarged it by recently finding the evidence why the Violarum of Eudocia does not go back to Suidas, but to the main source of Suidas, an epitome of Hesychius Milesius (lost, of course): this gives an unexpected outcome for my Theognis, which I will explain to you later.7 By the way, every day I expect a letter from Dr. Dilthey8 in Berlin, a student of Ritschl's,9 who is more versed in matters of Theognis than anyone else. I was completely frank with him and concealed neither my results nor my scholastic status. In Leipzig I hope that I can actively return to putting things down on paper; I have collected just about all of my material. By the way, it's undeniable that I hardly understand this trouble I have imposed on myself, which takes me away from myself (from Schopenhauer as well — it is often the same thing), as a result, exposing myself to the judgment of people and perhaps even forcing me to put on a mask of an erudition that I do not possess. At any rate, one loses something by printing it. Some delays and frustrations did not fail to materialize. The Berlin Library did not want to hand over the 16th- and 17th-century editions of Theognis. I asked for a number of very necessary books from the Leipzig Library through Roscher's10 mediation. But Roscher wrote to me that his conscience would not allow him to hand over books that were signed out in his name. It would never occur to me to reproach that conscience, but it felt inconvenient enough. Three things are my recreations, but infrequent recreations: my Schopenhauer, Schumann's music,11 and lastly, solitary walks. Yesterday an impressive thunderstorm was in the sky. I hastened up a neighboring hill called "Leusch" (perhaps you can tell me what this word means),12 found a hut up there, a man (who was slaughtering two yeanlings) and his young son. The thunderstorm broke quite violently with wind and hail. I felt an incomparable surge, and I soon realized how we rightly understand nature only when we have to flee to her from our own trials and tribulations. What was man to me with his restless willing! What was the eternal "Thou shalt" "Thou shalt not'' to me! How different the lightning, the wind, the hail, free powers without ethics! How fortunate, how strong they are, pure will, without being clouded by the intellect! However, I have found examples enough how cloudy the intellect of man often is. The other day I spoke to someone who in the near future wanted to go out as a missionary — to India. I asked him a few questions; he had not read any Indian books, had not heard of the Oupnekhat, and had decided not to get involved with the Brahmins — because they were well trained in philosophy. Holy Ganges!13 Today I heard an intellectually stimulating sermon by Wenkel14 on Christianity, "the faith that has overcome the world," intolerably arrogant towards all peoples who are not Christians, and yet very clever. You see, every so often he replaced the word Christianity with something else, which always gave a right sense, even for our view of the subject. If the phrase "Christianity has overcome the world" is replaced with the phrase "the sense of sin — briefly, a metaphysical need — has overcome the world," so that we find it inoffensive, you just have to be consistent and say, "The true Indians are Christians," and also: "The true Christians are Indians." Basically, however, the interchange of such established words and concepts is not quite honest; you see, it utterly confuses weak minds. If Christianity means "belief in an historical event or in an historical person," then I will have nothing to do with this Christianity. But if it just means [the] need for redemption, then I can value it highly, and not even be offended that it tries to discipline philosophers: when these are too few in comparison with the tremendous mass of those in need of redemption, besides being made of the same stuff. Indeed, even if all who practice philosophy were to be adherents of Schopenhauer! But only too often, behind the mask of the philosopher lies the lofty majesty of the "will," which seeks to develop its own self-glorification. If the philosophers ruled, then to plhJoV15 would be lost, if the mass rules, as it does now, then it would still suit the philosophers, raro in gurgite vasto,16 like Aeschylus, Jica allwn froneein.17 At the same time it is certainly extremely annoying for us to restrain our young and vigorous Schopenhauerian thoughts in such a half-expressed manner, and to have always weighing on our hearts this unfortunate difference between theory and practice. I know no consolation for this; on the contrary, I am in need of consolation. To me, we should judge the crux of the matter more mildly. It is also embedded in this collision. With that said, farewell, dear friend, my regards to your family, as mine send theirs; and it is agreed, when we meet again, we shall smile — and rightly so.18 Your friend 1. Cf. Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Nature." In: Essays: Second Series. Boston: Munroe, 1845, 183-185. Nietzsche's copy: Ralph Waldo Emerson, Versuche. (Essays.) Aus dem Englischen von G. Fabricius. Hannover: Carl Meyer, 1858, 391-392.
2. An allusion to Arthur Schopenhauer. Cf. Die Welt als Wille und Vorstellung, 1, §34; 2, §30. (The World as Will and Representation, 1, §34; 2, §30.)
Leipzig, May 29, 1866: Dear Mama and Lisbeth, You have not had any news [from me] for a ridiculously long time. If something important had happened, then you would have had some. I am not a soldier1 yet. It looks as if we shall be exempt anyway. I stayed in Leipzig for the Pentecost holidays,2 as I told you. We have done so well with Eilenburg.3 This was my pleasure. I have found time to work and in general I am satisfied with the results. News from Italy4 is not here yet. The matter is being shelved, which is also quite fine with me. Next Friday I have another lecture to give in our society.5 I spent the holidays very simply, I often went to an early morning concert at the Rosenthal6 and in the evenings I enjoyed Wachtel in Troubadour and Tell.7 Gersdorff is also staying here on vacation. My cousin8 was in Colditz and came back on Saturday.9 Next month he is moving into the room next to mine. Are you not even going to come to Leipzig? At least to Merseburg for the organ concert10 where the Riedelian Society will sing. It has been postponed until the first half of June. I will start the letter all over again: for it has been altogether neglected for a couple of days. In the meantime, your letter11 with money arrived, dear Mamma, I thank you very much for both. I only regret that the latter is far too little, and that I shall therefore shortly be obliged to write letters about money: which is always a waste of ink and time, and very tedious. You were expecting me in Naumburg. But that is not what we agreed on. So today I am sending an awful lot of dirty things and laundry. But I ask for a rapid increase of the washing process. For in Leipzig it is just as dusty as it is hot: and it seems to me as if the laundry gets its dark color and bad smell from sweat and dust. Basically, I cannot fathom any reason why I should write [to you] anymore. For I do not have any news, my philological findings do not interest you, you do not like philosophical discussions, the letter, money and laundry have already been dealt with, and all that is missing is a hello and a goodbye. I also saw L'Africaine12 (à propos laundry), the music is regrettably poor, the characters look hideous, and after the end of the play one has a strong belief in the descent of man from apes. Give my thanks to Aunt Rosalie13 for this artistic delight: if they give me free tickets, I will not go again. I admired Devrient as Hamlet and Count v. Strahl.14 Coming next is also Fräul[ein] Gallmeyer15 from Vienna, the most amazing personality on the German stage. Now [peace talks] have broken off for the tenth time. All our hopes rest with a German parliament. I wish the Congress in Paris16 a blessed bowel movement. So live well now and always. Perhaps I will come one day on a Saturday. But if you wish to wait for me, you will often enough be surprised by my not showing up. Unpack the chest carefully. It is not only laundry that stinks. With that, I commend myself to you with a bowed and bent spine as Your Fritz. I now reside at Elisenstr[asse] 7. 1. The Austro-Prussian War (June 14, 1866-August 23, 1866) was imminent.
Leipzig, June 1866: My first wish is that you will not misconstrue the insignificant dedication of my insignificant songs.2 Nothing is further [from my mind] than to draw your attention to my character with this dedication. While other people express their delight in the theater with their hands and mouths, I do it with a few songs; others may communicate even better with poems. But all of them have only one feeling: to indicate to you how happy they were for a brief part of their existence, how sincerely they cherish the memory of such sunny vistas of a perfect life. You must not think that these homages are offered to your extremely noble and gracious nature. At bottom, I, and certainly everyone with me, adore your portrayals: with the sweetness and pain with which my own childhood comes before my soul as something lost but once there, I also think of your original and always true-to-life, kind-hearted characters: no matter how seldom I come across these figures in my journey through life — and only a short while ago I no longer believed in their reality at all — my belief in them is now firmly rooted again. I really owe this only to you; after this confession you will not take offense at the license of this letter. What do you care about instantaneous success, about the thunderous applause of an excited crowd. But to know that many in this crowd are carrying away a salutary memory, that many who looked at life and people sadly enough are now walking on with more radiant faces and more cheerful hope — this must be an extremely cheering feeling. Finally, it is my wish that you may also hear these warm and grateful feelings in the tones of the enclosed songs. 1. Hedwig Raabe (1844-1905): a popular actress whom Nietzsche adored. In 1871, she married the German tenor Albert Niemann (1831-1917), who, in 1858, was recruited by Richard Wagner to sing in his operas.
Leipzig, Early July 1866: Dear Mama and Lisbeth, I hope that you receive a newspaper so that you will have eagerly followed the decisive events2 that have taken place in the last few weeks. The danger which Prussia is mired in is extremely great: it is quite impossible for it to be able to achieve its program even through a complete victory. To found the unified German state in this revolutionary way is a powerful move by Bismar[c]k:3 he possesses courage and ruthless consistency, but he underestimates the moral forces among the people. Nonetheless, the latest moves are excellent: above all, he has understood how to place a large, if not the largest, part of the guilt on Austria. Our situation is very simple. When a house is on fire, one does not ask first whose fault it is, but puts it out. Prussia is on fire. Now what counts is saving it. That is the general feeling. From the moment the war began, all secondary considerations receded. I am just as enraged a Prussian as, e.g., my cousin4 is an enraged Saxon. But it is an especially difficult time for all of Saxony. Their country entirely in enemy hands. Their army subdued and inactive. Their king far from his own people.5 Another king and a prince-elector have simply been finished off.6 This is the principality's latest declaration "by God's grace." One understands it when old Gerlach with some Westphalian Borneos rails against the alliance with the crowned (Victor Eman[uel]) and uncrowned democracy.7 In the end, this Prussian way of getting rid of the princes is the easiest in the world. It is downright fortunate that Hanover and Kurhessen did not join with Prussia: otherwise we would never have got rid of these guys. So we are living in the Prussian city of Leipzig. Today a state of war was declared throughout Saxony.8 Gradually one lives like on an island, because telegraph[ic] reports and the postal service and the railways are in perpetual disruption. In Naumburg, of course, as in Prussia in general, everything goes as usual. Sending a letter to Deussen in Tübingen, for example, is hardly an option. Amidst all this, the lectures continue uninterrupted. When I returned recently from Naumburg, I found a letter9 from Ritschl in which he indicated that the Roman collation arrived. The one from Paris arrives at the end of this week.10 Yet I am always conscious that the day is very close when I will be drafted. Moreover, it is downright dishonorable to sit at home while the fatherland is beginning a life-or-death struggle. Inquire someday at the Landamt exactly when the one-year volunteers will be drafted and let me know the information soon. The most enjoyable thing that Leipzig still offers is Hedwig Raabe,11 who continues to play to sold-out houses at a time when the receipts at the Dresden theater, e.g., are 6 thalers a day. Fare quite well for now and send me the laundry and news soon. Heartfelt greetings to you both. F W N. Continuation. Since the letter was left lying around, it will hardly make you angry if you also get a postscript. I have been ill for 3 days, but am better again today. The heat must have affected me. But that does not matter. What is important, however, is that our soldiers have won their first major victory.12 The day before yesterday, in the evening, it was announced by our city commandant,13 who immediately had a huge black-and-white flag hoisted at his hotel. The mood of the people is very divided. They believe the miserable Viennese lies, according to which all these recent skirmishes are just as many losses for the Prussians, they talk of the capture of 15,000 Prussian men. The devil thinks so. In Vienna, really just to encourage the masses, all dispatches are falsified and switched around. Incidentally, I am extremely delighted by the brilliant failure ( I received your letter with Gersdorff's16 and can rid you of your fears. As if you were any safer than I am in Leipzig. I am staying here now and during these times I really would not like to be stuck in a rather sleepy, newspaperless hole with Kreuzzeitung vaporous exhalations. I am really worried on account of Gersdorff's elder brother.17 The Ziethen hussars were the first to be involved in the fighting, and supposedly suffered heavy losses. Our Gersdorff is hoping to become an officer in 3 months at the least, unless silly cadets get preferred to him. So keep well; when Lama celebrates her birthday,18 I might come to Naumburg. But please first a letter concerning the draft question. F W N. 1. Franziska Nietzsche, at 25, ca. 1850. Two reproductions: 1. by Atelier Hertel, Weimar; and 2. by Louis Held, Weimar. GSA 101/315. The date of the photo is uncertain. GSA lists it as 1845, and Nietzsche Chronik as ca. 1850. See Friedrich Nietzsche. Chronik in Bildern und Texten. München: Hanser, 2000, 13.
Leipzig, July 5, 1866: Dear Wilhelm, If I am accurate, you will not be celebrating your birthday3 in the camp or in the garrison, but modestly in your Berlin study. For the time being it seems to me as if our mutual powers are still little missed; for up to now our soldiers are fighting just as bravely as favorably;4 but should the tide of war change, neither of us will be able to stop it on its way. Then, with our studies, let us indeed also serve the fatherland, which demands one thing or another from its own people, physical or mental achievements. But everyone does his best: "for lovingly," as Hölderlin says, "mortals give of their best."5 Ergo: let us not be annoyed that we are sitting around at home while able-bodied young people bearing arms incur blood-spattered badges of honor. On the whole, watching such a spectacle is interesting enough: especially after the initial period of oppressive concern has passed, after the war has gained momentum and is moving forward with "monkey-like rapidity," as the Viennese press calls it.6 My life in the Prussian city of Leipzig provides many psychological observations. The educated Saxons are almost more intolerable than the masses. They are basically too cowardly to take sides with their sympathies. They like to take the Prussian point of view, like to show a certain enlightenment in representing the Prussians as the inevitable erstwhile possessors of Saxony: for they all understand this necessity. All the more, however, do their petty minds provoke them to constant disapproving glances at our successes, to petty suspicions and detractions. I have had enough of this behavior. On the other hand, we Prussians living in Leipzig have felt with sincere joy that the steps taken by our government in the last 6 weeks have had our unqualified approval. How can one denounce that this gifted and energetic minister7 is far too committed to his past; but this past is an immoral one. Nobody even doubts that anymore. You cannot achieve the best with bad methods. The French newspapers have recognized the right person, calling him a revolutionary. One can learn a lot in such times. The ground, which seemed firm and unshakable, trembles; masks fall from the faces. Selfish tendencies, unveiled, reveal their hideous countenance. Above all, however, one notices how slight the power of thought is. Finally, you might want to know how my studies are going. The collation of the Roman codex is in my hands. The Parisian is expected any day now. I am taking my time. For before the end of the war there is no thought of publishing.8 I take a lot of satisfaction in our philolog[ical] society.9 Now still one more question, dear Wilhelm. I still have a lot to do for my Theognis10 at the Berlin library. In addition, I would like to spend the last week of the semester in Berlin. Could I perhaps stay with you? Write me your opinion quite frankly. I would very much look forward to being able to live with you for a week: a pleasure that I have not had for a long time. So our Gustav11 is also a soldier. Gersdorff is in Spandau as an avantageur.12 Deussen is horribile dictu:13 a theologian in Tübingen. Continue to keep your love for me Your faithful friend, F W. N. 1. See GSA 101/376 (unavailable). Carl Ferdinand Henning (1832-?): German portraitist and photographer with a studio at Topfmarkt 14, Naumburg. Henning took 5 photographs of Nietzsche from 1862-1868, and also reproduced two photos: a photo taken at the 1871 Leipzig Trade Fair, depicting Erwin Rohde, Carl von Gersdorff, and Nietzsche; and a photo taken in Basel in 1871 by Friedrich Hermann Hartmann. In 1862, Henning took three photos of Nietzsche. Nietzsche then ordered 2 sets of the three photos, making six in total. The Nietzsche Channel owns one of the 1862 photos (another copy is at GSA 101/3).
Leipzig, July 12, 1866: Dear friend, You probably expected a quicker reply to your letter,1 and rightly so. But I have been away for a few days,2 so it is only today that I can express my thanks and my joy at your letter. How fast events are progressing now. What a wealth of experiences, of great joyful experiences3 lies between the day you wrote and today. I cannot deny that, during the weeks of the campaign in Bohemia, I was thinking of your brothers4 with the greatest concern; now I have news from your eldest brother. He is wounded in the head, but not severely.5 On the other hand, a soldier who is lying here in the hospital told me about his massive bravery, so that in your mind I was also quite pleased. The soldier said they could not keep up with his brashness; he was always moving forward and in a fight with three others was wounded by a blow from a saber. This will be a very upsetting time for you. But we must be proud to have such an army, yes even — horribile dictu6 — to possess such a government that has the national program not just on paper, but with the greatest energy, with enormous expenditures of money and blood, even against the French great tempter Louis le diable.7 At bottom, every party that approves of these political goals is a liberal one, and so I can only see a new shade of liberalism in the significant conservative mass of the House of Deputies. For I cannot believe that these men are all only government men, people who blindly cling to any governing power and about 6 months earlier to the bastion of conservative interests in Austria, but 6 months later approved the means of a national war against it. But there is no harm in keeping the name "conservative" for our form of government. It is a name for the prudent, a hiding place for the cautious, and finally for our excellent king8 a kind of magic cloak, which veils even his eyes and lets him quietly continue on his free-spirited and astonishingly bold paths. Mind you, it is only now, when foreign countries are beginning to interfere9 in the most questionable way, that the great testing period will come, the crucial test for the seriousness of the national program. Now one has to realize how much purely dynastic interests are hidden under this enterprise. A war against France must bring about a unity of mind in Germany; and when the populations are one, then Herr v. Beust may let himself be embalmed together with all the middling state princes.10 For their time is up. Never in 50 years have we come so close to the fulfillment of our German hopes. I am gradually beginning to understand that there was probably no other more benign way than the dreadful one of a war of annihilation. The time is not far off when Corssen's view "that the German future could only be built on the ruins of Austria" will be regarded as terribly inflammatory. But such an old building does not crumble so easily. However rickety it may still be, there will always be "good and faithful" neighbors11 to support it; their own houses might suffer damage if it fell. This, applied to our European situation, is the Napoleonic doctrine of balance [of power], a balance [of power] where the center is supposed to lie in Paris. Troubled Austria appeals to this center. And as long as the center is in Paris, it will remain the same in Europe as a whole. Our national efforts will not be spared from overturning the European situation, or at least trying to overthrow it. If it fails, we both will hopefully have the honor of falling on the battlefield, struck by a French bullet. After these general observations, which by the way everyone now makes, I come to the people of Leipzig and finally to my situation. I hope you have seen the two excellent pictures in Daheim, "Prussian Soldiers Consorting with the Daughters of the Land," scenes from the Pleissenburghof, like those that reality features every evening.12 This is an illustration of our situation in Leipzig. Here one is simply not really capable of either animated hatred or animated affection. But one is comfortable under all circumstances and one obeys. I asked a soldier in your regiment about your brother-in-law13 and had him tell me about Spandau. We had a rare kind of relaxation here in the midst of the most exciting events, the unusually long guest performance of Hedwig Raabe,14 who is literally adored by the Leipzig audience as a "blonde angel." The joy reached its climax when she starred with Devrient15 in the Waise von Lowood.16 Incidentally, she has been living with a family friend of hers in Gohlis for some time now, and with none other than my uncle.17 I am very angry that I neglected this family so much last winter. I endure it now as a punishment for my antisocial disposition. Now you will also want to know how my Theognis18 is going. 2 weeks ago I received the Roman collation, the night before yesterday I came back from a trip and found a letter from Ritschl with the note: "Theognidea Parisina praesto sunt teque expectant."19 I picked it up the following afternoon and by doing so learned important things. Two scholars actually have plans for a new edition of Theognis, whose entire codices they have compared again. Thus periculum in mora.20 For the time being, Ritschl recommended that I refrain from publishing an edition and have my results printed in the form of an essay as quickly as possible.21 He offered me the Rheinish Museum für Phil[ologie]. I am very happy about this turn of events. For I had already given up the whole plan and still did not really know how to discharge my obligations to Ritschl. So this is excellent. The essay has to be finished in 3 weeks. Then, as Ritschl promised, it will be printed very quickly. Then I will have my hands free for the next semester and do not have to stay in Leipzig. Incidentally, Ritschl is now more amiable than ever and has also confided in me, e.g., that my listing of the codice groups is also completely confirmed by the latest investigations. Now I want to tell you even more from Papa Deussen, who sends you his regards.22 From where? From Tübingen. As what? As theologius, and indeed irrevocably. I wrote him a letter23 with the most convincing reasons. But it seems to be a matter of will for him, so the reasons no longer work. He wrote me, e.g. "I should refute the following possibilities: there indeed could really be a God, this God could have revealed himself, this revelation could be contained in the Bible."24 Holy Brama! As if one must govern one's life with three such possibilities! And I have yet to refute them! Now, fare quite well. I have never thought about you as much as I do now — if only because I am a bit lonely despite my many acquaintances — but I am afraid I must have constant concerns for you in the near future. They do not want me as a soldier. If you go into the army, let me know very briefly. As always, my address is Elisenstr. 7. I still have to tell you considerably sincere regards from Brockhaus too,25 as well as from my cousin.26 Lastly, our mutual motto: Your friend F W. N. 1. Spandau, 06-26-1866: Letter from Carl von Gersdorff to Nietzsche in Leipzig.
Leipzig, August 15, 1866: Dear friend, Since I absolutely do not know anything definite, whether you are still staying in Spandau or have arrived safely in Nuremberg with most of your regiment,1 I will accept what I wish for you, namely the latter and have my letter conveyed to Nuremberg. If it does not find you there, it may start a return journey to Leipzig and from here to Spandau. The letter will be just as fortunate as you yourself that it has seen and got to know charming Nuremberg. In actual fact, your situation must now be enviable; you have managed admirably not to commit heroic deeds — as far as the newspapers report correctly about it — but to take part in a vigorous military outing in a hostile, extraordinarily pleasant country. In addition, you should feel very comfortable in Nuremberg, the inhabitants should be accommodating, the newspapers report on concerts that your regiment gives, with horrible, but at least really Prussian programs, like the one I heard at the guardhouse;2 being where I hoped to meet you. Right at the beginning of my letter I want to invite you to spend the next semester in Leipzig again. You can continue to serve here3 as a Prussian soldier "to the amazement of the townsmen and townswomen"; I hope at least that it will be within your grasp. You have also experienced that it is easy to live comfortably in Leipzig; together we would arrange for a better lodging free from certain horrors. For my part, I am still staying here for all sorts of reasons, which will become quite clear to you at the end of the letter. The pure Saxons are beginning to get quite abundant again; unfortunately, they know that the integrity of the country's borders will be preserved and they begin to curse Prussia at the top of their lungs. What I find particularly unbearable is the slight suspicion, the ironic doubting of Prussian aspirations. Men can hate just as little as love; but "Beust is a great man!"4 What is said of Prussian sympathies in Saxony applies very exclusively to one political party, represented by Biedermann5 with his Deutschen Allgemeine and Freitag6 with the Grenzboten. The Landescommission really has the country behind it; something I did not want to believe at first. It has now banned Treitzschke's pamphlet,7 despite the determined resistance of the Prussian Civil Commissar. A bookseller boasts that one day Herr von Glycinsky, the city commandant, appeared in civilian clothes, asked for the work and quite thoroughly denounced it.8 At Kintschy's9 there is now a formal Prussian army camp every afternoon; old Kintschy always leading the way. But elsewhere e.g. at Mahn's10 one hears the most abominable Saxon would-be politicians, especially from those who want to appear impartial and yet with real greed scrape together everything that is in any way detrimental to Prussia. Therefore only come here as a Prussian lieutenant; then we are at least safe from such conversations in our social circle. For the benefit of the wounded, etc., the Riedel Association gave a great concert in the Nikolaikirche, which raised over 1,000 thl. Frau Flinsch, Frau Krebs-Michalesi, Herr Auer from Düsseldorf, etc. were the soloists.11 In the death lists I also noticed a name that was very dear to me. I have often told you about my first senior Obergeselle,12 to whom I owe a great deal, Kramer, who was most recently sec[ond] lieutenant and adjutant in the 72nd regiment; he fell at Sadowa.13 Such losses of such noble and intelligent people are not worth 10 Austrians. The Napoleonic fears14 of the last few days have caused, I hope, an undeserved excitement everywhere. At least there are still enough nuts left over for our minister15 to crack open with his strong teeth. In the end, fears from that side could bring about most quickly the unification work that is underway. Our speech from the throne,16 which appeared just an hour before Riedel's concert, made a very beneficial impression on me and on many others. I was delighted, sang so beautifully again in church and was very optimistic about Prussia and Germany in the near future. But that terrible Kreuzzeitung has upset my stomach, as well as the speech by Senfft-Pilsach. Now the word "indemnity"17 is supposed to mean something like "declaration of continuity"; my moral and philological hairs bristle on this matter. Dear friend, it is purely selfish, but you will understand if I ask you in particular to come back to Leipzig. Who on earth am I supposed to talk to now? The majority of acquaintances certainly will not do; there are many amiable and understanding people among them, among whom I especially single out Kleinpaul.18 But the time when one quickly made friends — which is to say a lot more — is over for me. I would rather live a bit lonely here and write letters to my real friends asking them to come to Leipzig. I will also try to have an effect by letter on Deussen.19 After we had written to each other twice,20 his last letter21 contained the confession that "he had played a silly prank." Kant and Schopenhauer helped him with this insight. How many have they not already helped! Nevertheless he wants to wear his yoke modestly to the end; something I do not understand at all. He wants to return to philology after his first theological exam. No, no. He must come to Leipzig next semester and join our philological society. This society22 is thriving. I strictly adhere to the principle of being as tough as possible when accepting new members and not showing any consideration for external advantages, such as kindness or the like. People should know something and be particularly inquisitive. Our new members include Rohde, Heinemann, Cron, all three belonging to the Ritschl Society.23 In this there now exists, so I am told, some shoddy stuff, among other people an incorrigibly stupid namesake,24 for whom I have had the misfortune here and there to be mistaken. Our association is now publicly recognized; recently we have gifted to Ritschl, the spiritual creator of the association, a photograph of ourselves.25 Now you will want to know how my Theognis is going. Good. Thank you. Two-thirds of the work26 is in Ritschl's hands, I am finishing the work and think I will be done in a few days. Ritschl was very satisfied with what I brought him, everything made sense. After him, W. Dindorf,27 with whom I am now establishing a business relationship, also wants to read through it. Now comes a new story, dear friend, which must be kept very secret. Ritschl recently asked me if I would be willing to do some work for a fee. I replied: why not, if there is something worthwhile to learn from it. It is also regarding a lexicon of Aeschylus28 from the point of view of modern philology. There is no pleasure in writing lexicons; but think what one can learn from Aeschylus, how one is compelled to work through the enormous and extremely sophisticated collection of books. Thus yesterday evening I was with W. Dindorf, who is arranging the matter. So first I am supposed to make a number of sample pages, as Dindorf said, to see roughly how big the book is actually going to be, to see what I can do, especially if I am going to be methodical. Now that is a nice sample, so I am not too afraid of it. Perhaps because I do not know the difficulties yet. After the holidays I will bring him a couple of pages, which I am working on at my leisure, and then he will put all of his material at my disposal so that I can then work with all my might. Among them are, which I am quite happy about, the only complete collation of the cod. Mediceus, around which the whole criticism of Aeschylus revolves. As for the size of the book, W. Dindorf estimated it at around 60 sheets. So that would be 2 volumes of c. 500 pages each. Publisher is Teubner. Ritschl thinks that the work pays very well. But I will not really know that until I know how much time and effort it will take. Isn't that a fresh prospect? Basically, I get lucky now and then. Ritschl kindly makes sure that I learn something, and in a way that suits me. The acquaintance with Dindorf is also very much appreciated: he has already told me about codices which he owns and which he intends to show me later. He is a big market speculator and a shrewd man in general. In financial transactions I will take care not to negotiate independently; Ritschl has to arrange everything. — The theatrical delights of Leipzig continue. Now Frau Niemann-Seebach29 is here. I have already seen her as Gretchen30 and I was struck like never before; then as Juliet31 in Romeo etc., today I hope to admire her as Maria Stuart.32 Finally, I have to tell you what would have been more appropriate to say from the start. I would like to thank you from the bottom of my heart for your last letter,33 which was so content-rich and so friendly. May everything that you wish for come true! If you ever have some time, please write to me, but send the letter to Naumburg, where I want to go after completing my work on Theognis[.] Fare very well und remember 1. For details about Carl von Gersdorff's service in the Austro-Prussian War, see his letters to Nietzsche dated mid-July 1866 and 08-17-1866.
Naumburg, End of August 1866: Dear friend, "The postman has no letter for me?"1 you will have often wondered in amazement. But they do have one from me, the damn mail, and it has not been delivered to you. "Be still, my heart!"2 The longer the time has been in which you have heard nothing from me, the greater my ingratitude must seem to you for not repaying your penultimate letter, which was just as heartfelt as it was richly thoughtful, with any responsive lines — namely, because the Nürnberg field post swallowed my letter up without spewing it out again — all the more so do I feel the need to make amends for what is the fault of the mail and to clear myself of the apparently very justified reproach of ingratitude. It is very bitter to know that you are on the battlefield,3 upset by failed plans, by the limited comforts of the environment, by mind-killing exercises, and finally even by the negligence of a friend. For it cannot seem otherwise to you. Enough [that] I blush, as one often blushes, without consciously feeling guilty, at the thought that, for some reason, one could plummet in the opinion of others, especially people who are beloved. Your letters were, in accordance with my subjective feelings, among the most pleasant things that the summer campaign has produced. How utterly different does an event, even a small one, described by a friend's hand seem from some great deeds, over which the ugly haze of newsprint settles. Unfortunately, I can tell [you] only little and trivial things about my experiences. My work4 is finished [and] in Ritschl's5 hands: I accomplished it in three parts and remained in Leipzig until I had made the final stroke (my signature). I have never written with such reluctance; in the end I reeled off the material in the most monotonous way: yet Ritschl was quite satisfied with the one part that he has read. It will probably be published in October. Ritschl wants to read the work carefully, Wilhelm Dindorf6 has also asked permission [to read it]. I will probably be doing business with the latter. He had Ritschl ask me whether I wanted to work on an Aeschylus lexicon from the standpoint of the latest Aeschylus criticism. For a good fee, of course. I have been thinking that I can learn a lot from this, that I could become quite familiar with Aeschylus, that I could get my hands on Dindorf's collation of the Cod[ex] Mediceus (among German scholars, the only one considered complete), that I would have a convenient opportunity, even need, to prepare one play, perhaps the Choephorae, for a future lecture, and after all these considerations, I agreed to it. Only I must first prove my competence to do so by preparing a sample sheet during this vacation. Incidentally, such a work is not uninteresting in the case of Aeschylus; one is compelled to exercise continuous rigorous criticism of the vast number of conjectures. Dindorf estimated a book of at least 60 sheets. After the holidays I will enter into financial negotiations with [the publisher] Teubner — if I am taken on. Ritschl is more and more friendly toward me. Consequently, I will stay in Leipzig next semester too, where, all things considered, I am splendidly comfortable. Should it not be possible for you to continue to serve in Leipzig? I would be very happy about that, for I especially miss you. Admittedly, I have many acquaintances now, but none with whom I have so many past and present things in common than with you. Perhaps I can even persuade old Deussen to come to Leipzig too; he wrote to me recently that he now completely understands that he has done a foolish thing. "Better late than never" namely the realization about theological studies. He wants to leave Tubingen, he does not care about what university he chooses, because he has no hope of finding much anywhere for his theology, whose yoke he wants to bear to the end (not the end of all things, but up to the first exam). Perhaps even now he can choose to be "converted." Philology would be delighted if the long-lost son, who has fattened himself on the dregs of theology, were to return, and comparative linguistics in particular would even slaughter a calf in Deussen's honor.
Our Philological Society is flourishing: recently it was photographed, and honored Ritschl with a picture of it, to his great joy. Rohde is now a full member too, a very clever but obstinant and self-willed mind. With the admission of new members, I work to insure that it proceeds with the greatest possible rigor and scrutiny. Herr v. Voigt7 did not have the honor of being admitted. The last few weeks in Leipzig were very interesting. The Riedel Society gave a concert for the war-wounded in the Nicolaikirche. The crowd was at all the church doors like at the theater when Hedwig Raabe8 is playing. We had receipts of more than a thousand talers. Half an hour before the start of the concert, the telegram of the royal speech arrived in Leipzig: I have never been so happy about an act of our King than about this [un]compromising, unambiguous speech. The old party positions, i.e. the extreme standpoints, are now completely in ruins. Men like Treitzschke and Roggenbach9 have suddenly become representatives of public opinion. A large part of the so-called conservatives, for example, councillor Pinder in Naumburg,10 is swimming merrily in the new current. For me it is also — frankly — a rare and entirely new pleasure to feel for once in accord with the provisional government. Although one must let the various dead rest, one must also make it clear that the Bismarckian11 game was an extremely audacious one, that a policy that dares to call va banque, can be equally cursed or worshiped, depending on its success. Sometimes for several minutes I try to disengage myself from the consciousness of the time, from the subjectively natural sympathies for Prussia, and then I get a great Haupt- und Staatsaktion play12 out of such stuff which, after all, history is made, certainly not moral stuff, but quite beautiful and edifying for the observer. You will probably have read the work, On the Future of the Central States, by Treitzschke.13 It was with great difficulty that I procured it in Leipzig, where it was banned — proh pudor — as it was in general in Saxony. On the other hand, our like-minded colleagues, the Freitags, the Biedermänns, etc.14 have obtained a vote in the Saxon liberal-national party that calls for unconditional annexation. This serves my own personal interests best. I hope King Johann15 is pigheaded enough to force Prussia into annexing [Saxony]. Finally, Schopenhauer should also be mentioned, for whom I still adhere to with the deepest sympathy. What we possess in him was just recently made quite clear to me by another work, which is excellent and very instructive in its own way: Geschichte des Materialismus und Kritik seiner Bedeutung für die Gegenwart von Fr. A. Lange. 1866.16 Here we have an extremely enlightened Kantian and natural scientist before us. His conclusions are summed up in the following three propositions: 1) the world of the senses is the product of our organization. Thus the true essence of things, the thing-in-itself, is not only unknown to us, but its concept is neither more nor less than the final product of an antithesis caused by our organization, an antithesis of which we do not know whether it has any meaning outside our experience. Consequently, Lange thinks, one should give the philosophers a free hand, provided that they edify us in this way. Art is free, also in the domain of concepts.18 Who would refute a phrase by Beethoven, and who would find error in Raphael's Madonna? —19 You see, even with this strictly critical standpoint our Schopenhauer sustains us, indeed he becomes almost more to us. If philosophy is art, then even Haym20 might cower before Schopenhauer; if philosophy should edify, then I just don't know any philosopher who edifies more than our Schopenhauer. With that, farewell for today, dear friend. Consider whether or not you can come to Leipzig. But in any case, let me know when and where we can meet. For I am all too eager to see you again, something that was not granted to me in Leipzig since you yourself left the vicinity of Leipzig again so quickly. Yet I have heard the music of your regiment, somewhat unclassical, and in particular a great deal of the African..21 I have not been to Pforta yet. Volkmann is happily married.22 I will loyally pass on your greetings. My relatives send you their best wishes and assure you of their sympathy. Adieu, dear friend, Your F W. Nietzsche. 1. Cf. Wilhelm Müller, "Die Winterreise." "Die Post." In: Lieder des Lebens und der Liebe. Herausgegeben von Wilhelm Müller. Deßau, Ackermann 1824: 85. Set to music for voice and piano by Franz Schubert (1797-1828) in 1827, and published posthumously in 1828 (Op. 89). Piano transcription by Franz Liszt in 1839, and published in 1840.
Kösen, October 11, 1866: Dear friend, Today you are getting news about my monotonous life, which is by no means boring to me, yet to the eye of an objective observer is sincerely dry and uninteresting. Basically, only the lack of communicable material is the reason why your last letter1 (a happy event for me, like all your letters) remained unanswered for so long. I have not traveled this vacation, but am sitting in industrious solitude in Kösen, where my mother and I have been residing for four weeks to avoid the Naumburg cholera:2 while my sister visits relatives in Saxony.3 In fact, the last few days have been very cold; I am writing to you in my overcoat, with a blanket over my feet, since our room has no stove; but this state of affairs will already end on Saturday,4 when we return to Naumburg again. Apart from these last, cold, hazy days of autumn, we have nothing but pleasantly bright and warm weather to look forward to. A few afternoons were so mild and sunny that I had to keep thinking about that unique and irretrievable time when I, for the first time free from compulsory schooling, without the shackles of uncommunicative fraternity life, saw the Rhine with the free, proud feeling of an inexhaustibly rich future.5 What a shame that I robbed myself of this real poetry due to those self-inflicted torments which so easily appear as sources of joy to the immature student. Incidentally, with this retrospective view of the past, I am not ungrateful to the present. In the last few years my wishes have been superseded by reality in several respects. If a sudden change occurs soon, I must not grumble, but compensate misfortune with good fortune. The last year of study in Leipzig is so dear to me precisely because of the contrast with life in Bonn.6 While there I had to comply with incomprehensible rules and regulations, while there amusements were imposed upon me that I resisted, while there an idle life among quite crude people filled me with profound resentment,7 whereas in Leipzig everything changed in unexpected ways. Pleasant, kind, friendly relations, undeserved favoritism on the part of Ritschl, a number of fellow students with equal aspirations, good landlord and landlady, good concerts, etc., truly enough to make me very fond of the city of Leipzig! So you yourself can imagine my pleasure when I recently found the Leipziger Tageblatt in the Brave Knight.8 I study this diligently every day, peruse the menus, the concert advertisements, the reviews by Dr. E[mil] Kn[eschke],9 the cholera lists,10 all the petty squabblings and quarrels of which this paper is the organ. I mention in passing that the philosopher at Leipzig, Weisse,11 and the aesthetician, Flathe,12 also fell victim to this plague, as did the wine merchant Dähne.13 I recently got a lengthy letter from old Rohn,14 in which he let me know that he could not come to the small Keil Auction15 because he "had to keep" his business "tidy" during the days of the Book Fair, moreover "growing in the next few days!" With which he wanted to indicate the expected enrichment of his family in the near future. The auction in question was also happily launched without him: the prices were very high, thanks to the efforts of the Calvary antiquarian bookshop and the Pforta teachers. The latter of course sometimes paid more than the retail price to distinguish themselves with the books of their former colleague Keil.16 In particular, Corssen17 made quite expensive purchases for the Pforta library. The Coetus18 enthusiastically bought up old Keil's literature on the [1848] Revolution and consistently bid on the most useless books. I spent about 24 Thl. in the process, and, among other things, the Bernhardian Suidas19 came into my possession for 9 Thl. This auction became more important to me because I have become acquainted with a Dr. Simon, the Socius of Calvary's business and will probably do big business20 with him. For several hundred thalers, I cull the comprehensive catalogs of Calvary and pay this sum in annual installments of 60 thalers. In this way I have come into possession of a nice library. You can appreciate it if my daily thoughts for a long time have been on acquiring a library. Without one, all our philological work is simply fragmentary. I have also subjected my Theognis manuscript21 to a final revision; it will be at the printers for two weeks. Dindorf has read through it too.22 The title is: "Zur Geschichte der Theognideischen Spruchsammlung" (Towards a History of the Collected Sayings of Theognis).23 I also received a very friendly letter24 from Ritschl during this vacation. I began my lexical work25 with a very inadequate collection of books; the Pforta library and Corssen have assisted me. When I come to Leipzig and if Dindorf accepts my proof sheet, the work will begin at full speed. Yet I will let myself be bothered as little as possible with other studies. Above all, I still want to acquire the main results of linguistic research, so that I can really write my lexicon from the standpoint of modern philology. It is just like I wrote to you the other day:26 Ritschl always finds a nice way to motivate me to work. You know Dr. Richter;27 I really like him and enjoy visiting him. The poor man has literary opponents, among them the extremely rude Lucian Müller.28 An edition of Seneca's tragedies29 by him will be published shortly, in which he believes he has discovered the well-known eurhythmic principle. Richter's judgments about the situation at Pforta are very correct; we recently conversed for a long time about the system of lies at Pforta, which to him must be very disgusting at Pforta and very repugnant to his honest nature. But we can count ourselves lucky that we still lived in the rays of the setting sun at Pforta. The heyday of this institution is completely over, the determination of some government officials30 to lower Pforta to the level of other high schools is fully victorious. Peter31 will not be able to stand it much longer either, now that the best teacher in the institution, Corssen, has asked for and received his discharge. Perhaps this is news to you, at any rate painful. For the beautiful image of Pforta lives only in our memories. What is Pforta without Steinhart and Corssen. The latter goes to Berlin in order to be able to continue his extensive studies there in the circle of learned friends. I beg you to tell everyone who knows Corssen that he was not sent away,32 but that they were very reluctant to let him go, at least on the part of Pforta's staff. Finally, the publication of the Pforta Alterthümer33 was assigned to him and he was given 1500 Thl. He also intends to go to Italy for a while.34 I am pleased that he is looking to the future with great enthusiasm. If you are in Berlin, be sure to visit him. His mother lives at Commandant.str. 40. I have no desire to talk about politics today, yet I would like to tell you my thanks for your outpourings in your last letter,35 in which you share exactly my opinion. By the way, one sees signs and wonders everywhere. I did not practice music much, since I do not have a piano in Kösen. On the other hand, I brought along the piano reduction of Rich[ard]. Wagner's Valkyrie,36 about which my feelings are very mixed, so that I dare not express any judgment. The great beauties and virtutes are outweighed by equally great ugliness and flaws. But +a+ (—a) equals 0 according to Riese and Buchbinder. According to the newspapers, the same composer is now working on a Hohenstaufen opera37 and occasionally allows himself to be visited by the king,38 "the propitious patron of his life," as the dedication39 puts it. Incidentally, it would not do any harm if the "King would go with his Wagner"40 (["]go["] in the boldest sense of the word), but of course with a decent annuity.41 I hear nothing from Deussen. He does not write, therefore I hope he has not yet made a definite decision about next semester, so he is still capable of corrections.42 Fighting against his mother's43 prejudices may not be easy. I will be very happy if he comes to Leipzig and if I can please him in any way. Next semester I will be taking Greek grammar from Curtius,44 Latin from Ritschl,45 then palaeography with Tischendorf's46 blessing (he thoroughly understands reading codd., and that's abominably difficult). In the theater the young Wachtel47 is engaged as a tenor, that is, the son of the one we admire. The Euterpe management invites you to subscribe and promises nothing but well-known things.48 The university has postponed the start of classes for three weeks.49 How the masters are lazy: how gladly they hide themselves behind the banner of cholera! It will not prevent me from moving back to Leipzig on October 17th. On the 13th I will leave Kösen and move back to Naumburg. With that, my bleak abundance of insignificant news has been tapped to the dregs today, and I have nothing left to report other than the greetings that have been referred to me, the greetings of my mother, as well as the Pforta teachers, Volckmann,50 Corssen, Peter, Koberstein,51 etc. I am very surprised at your lucky promotion.52 I would not be surprised if you also received a medal; for I can imagine how much they would like to keep you as a soldier in the army. In conclusion, a distich by Solon,53 which is a fitting motto for Bismar[c]k:54
"Having placed a mighty shield in front of both parties: I stood and allowed neither of them to win by force."55 Your friend 1. 09-04-1866: Letter from Carl von Gersdorff in Leipzig.
Leipzig, October 31, 1866: Dear Mama and Lisbeth, Finally my letter arrives, and in fact rather content-poor; at least it gives both of you certainty about my life, although I just hope that you yourselves have not had any doubts about it. Moreover, it contains nothing but what concerns my work, the sort of things that you casually take into account, but reluctantly enough. The simple, safe nature of our life in Kösen,1 as well as in general the last quarter of the year2 spent near you, is a pleasant memory for me, primarily because I was able to work leisurely and was not too often bothered with the inevitable pleasures of the townspeople; like those who wear tailcoats that are too tight or even borrowed. Here in Leipzig I have returned to my old order, or rather to a more orderly order than the one, e.g., in this summer semester, which, due to its military commotions, quite unpleasantly disturbed and confounded the peace of my study. I am particularly pleased that I arrived here3 before the whole crowd of "sons of the muses" and the common staff had assembled together again. Some of my closer acquaintances, such as Windisch, Roscher, Romundt, are already here, and so I do not miss interacting with friends either.4 I paid a visit to Dindorf and a second to Ritschl, and I was received very kindly by both of them. I hope that the Aeschylus matter5 will go well and in such a way that I do not burden myself with anything excessive and do not bear too much responsibility, but that in the process I am properly rewarded for it. If you yourself remember, dear m[other], what I, according to Dr. Simon's understanding6 and according to the general custom of a publisher, can demand for the first work — actually nothing at all — then the sum of c. 500 thalers will seem quite substantial to you; through his influence, Dindorf wants to work this out for me with Teubner. So one sheet pays approximately 10 Thl. The work is much easier than I had imagined and, as I said, the responsibility is also less. A few other smaller jobs, with which, however, I have to do more with my head than with my hands as with the Aeschylus work, will also appear again — thanks to Ritschl — in the future. Due to the recommendation of the aforementioned man, I also now have access to the Leipzig Municipal Library7 and its numerous manuscript treasures. I am often there in the afternoon, just collating a codex from the 11th century.8 The university library also has to spew out books for me every day, and yet I always lack so much. Dindorf demands that I possess a decent library, i.e. he considers it just as necessary as I myself do. I have now received news from Simon in Berlin,9 but I have not yet addressed his propositions. Namely: in addition to the said 60 thalers a year, the interest on the remaining sum still has to be paid, so that I get 500 thalers of books right away, but I will pay for them in 12 years for about 720 thalers: which seems too impractical to me, as it does to him, by the way. On the other hand, you and the guardian10 will not have any objection if, with regard to the 500 thalers to be acquired, I buy the most necessary books for about 60 thalers. About which I will write to him some time soon. I still have no news from Pforta:11 you will do me a favor and someday write to Schenk:12 "He should go to the custodian and tell him that I have not received a letter from Pforta, that I wanted to know what I had to send to him if I were to receive the relevant scholarship."13 Lastly, I beg you to be silent with everyone concerning my affairs; even toward those who know something about them. I am studying in Leipzig, and I am not doing well: neither of these is a secret, and you can say it. Likewise, that green-white patriotism14 is flourishing in Saxony, that green-white and black-red-gold flags15 flutter on the houses, and recently the first Saxon troop trains were received16 by several thousands at the station. "Now we have two kings,"17 says the common but enlightened man, while other common, unenlightened men are already fawning and groveling and singing hymns to their John the Soap-Maker.18 By the way, because of the latter statement, I could be accused of lèse majesté. Long live the rue wreath with the Prussian caterpillar crests in it! Your Friedrich Nietzsche, as son 1. They stayed in Bad Kösen (about 4 miles east of Naumburg) from 09-15-1866 to 10-13-1866 due to the 1866 cholera pandemic.
Leipzig, November 1866: Dear friend, Your recent excellent letter, with which you have brightened my birthday table,2 was the only one that represented my friends and reminded me quite vividly of the many hours of stimulation, elation and inner joy for which I am so richly indebted to them: and if it just evoked most clearly to my soul the image of you, then the reason for this is very obvious. At the same time, due to your kindness, I received the requested programs,3 from which I can still use a few things: in general, one must indeed be very careful with Aeschylean works of this kind, since out of a hundred Today I have something else to submit to you. It would be very interesting for me to hear both your and Haupt's5 opinions on the following passages in Propertius,6 and in fact, if it suits you, very soon. III 25, 17 (cited from the Haupt edition)7 The point is, you will know what is important and I am therefore not adding a word. So I have been in Leipzig since mid-October and have had a series of quiet and busy days. Since the 5th of November, classes have started again, which I think are very fruitful.10 Both Ritschl's Latin Grammar,11 as well as Curtius' Greek Grammar and Greek Lyric Poets12 already heard by me and have their attractive side; when I also mention Tischendorf's Palaeography,13 you will know everything that I have heard. In addition, I am regularly in the municipal library14 in the afternoon on Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday, where I have access to the rich manuscript treasure through Ritschl's authorization. Up to now, I have been busy here with the collation of an Orosius manuscript15 and one by Terence from the 10th century. No matter how limited the good Saxons are in political matters, and no matter how abominable seem the hostilities of our like-minded people — the Biedermanns, Freitags16 — Saxons produce friendly and agreeable librarians; old Naumann is a model of courtesy, as is our Pückert, from the university library, whom you also know. To my delight, the "discus thrower"17 is no longer on display there. I am getting used to good Leipzig more and more and I am afraid I will not be leaving here any time soon. With what right I have to say this will be clear to you at the end of the letter.
During this winter, everything possible shall be done. In particular, we intend to give our society18 a special impetus so that, like a ball, it will still go on for a few more semesters, which we, the founders, may no longer be able to spend with it. I think a lot about expanding it; our goal should be "a union of every really ambitious philologist in Leipzig." For this purpose we have also appointed 12 positions for associate members, and I personally have in mind a number of people from Pforta. My next lecture19 shall relate to a "Theory of Interpolations in the Tragedians";20 I think it is useful to make oneself clear about the individual types of interpolation, about the scope of each one, especially about certain assumptions, about the interpolatory activity of the actors, about the much-discussed state copy of the tragedians,21 etc. Then I arranged an evening with Romundt22 and two Pfortners,23 all three of whom are in the well-known philological state of molting, with whom we read the Choephor[oe] of Aeschylus together, and in fact Finally I am also a member of the Ritschl Society,25 together with virtually most of the full members of our society, so that these entities now almost go hand in hand. There we will read the Thesmophoriazusae,26 which I am really looking forward to. Old Ritschl is now in good health again, after suffering for a long time with a sore throat, and even falling off the library ladder. He is presently publishing a collection of his opuscula,27 of which the Greek part will appear shortly. One organizes one's works when one is at the end of one's life. In conclusion, I must tell you of a special kindness of his. You know that I have studied Diogenes Laertius and have talked to Ritschl about it every now and then. A few weeks ago he asked me quite mysteriously whether, if a request came from someone else, I would someday want to write about the sources of Diog[enes] La[ertius]: which of course I was happy to answer affirmatively. A few days ago the university's prize themes28 were published, and the first one that caught my eye was "De fontibus Diogenis Laertii."29 So this is my second major work, which is certainly more extensive and involves more effort than my Theognisquisquiliae,30 but which can be made immensely fruitful and touches on all possible areas. Ritschl takes care of me in this excellent way. It has now become probable that I will take my doctoral examination31 here in Leipzig around next winter, that is, in 1867, and will therefore only be able to come to your Berlin afterwards, so that I can also enjoy your deliciae there, especially Haupt. I must also be very grateful to Ritschl for introducing me to W. Dindorf, who received me in the most benevolent manner, even with open arms. After lengthy discussions with him and Ritschl and after careful consideration by myself, my Aeschylus work has the following prospects: the work will appear on Dindorf's consilium, so it is also his responsibility. An index needs to be made, not a critical dictionary, for which my strength is simply not sufficient. Teubner shall give me about 500-600 Thl. pay for c. 200 in books. Those would be the terms; aren't they very cheap? The work is mechanical, but I still expect knowledge, books and money for it, and above all Dindorf's friendship and Teubner's publishing house. About all these things I ask of you altum silentium.32 From what I have heard, our Gersdorff is in Berlin now, preparing for his officer's examination. Since I do not even know whether he received my last letter from the beginning of October,33 nor can I find out from his brother,34 who is back in Leipzig, would you be so kind as to give him my best regards. However, he may be very busy. You, too, will probably have a surprising amount to do this semester: isn't it your last? For this extremely embarrassing time preparing for the exam I wish you cheerfulness and health, but above all a certain contempt for such exams, of which Schopenhauer would also think the worst. If only I could do you the slightest favor! Don't you need a book or a collation or something? Perhaps you will enjoy a long, very interesting essay35 written by Lachmann and not printed, 'Euphron's Thoughts on the Institute of the Philhellenes,' and I will take the liberty of sending it to you soon with the programs36 etc. Finally, I only ask you to answer the questions on page 2 very quickly, about the meaning of which I will write to you later. With the most obliging regards to your dear parents and grandmother, I remain Your grateful friend NB. The most important philosophical work that has appeared in the last few decades is undoubtedly Lange, History of Materialism, on which I could write a eulogy several pages long. Kant, Schopenhauer and this book by Lange — more I do not need.37 1. Hermann Mushacke (1845-1906): friend and classmate at the University of Bonn. Nietzsche and Mushacke visited Naumburg together on October 26, 1865, and visited Berlin and Mushacke's family in the autumn of 1866. For their exploits in Leipzig, see Nietzsche's autobiographical "Rückblick auf meine zwei Leipziger Jahre" (Retrospect on My Two Years at Leipzig). English translation in: Nietzsche's Writings as a Student. The Nietzsche Channel, 2012, 119-43 (121-29).
Leipzig, December 1866: Dear friend, It is, after all, the most excellent time of the year which we are now in: the older we get — and one regrettably grows old very quickly — the further away we place ourselves from the so-called "meaning" of this time, but the memory of happy feelings of childhood ensures this time a warm welcome in later years. One sees so many hopeful, friendly, childlike excited faces wherever one sees the secret desire to please someone and to make someone happy; one spends money on useless things, one gives gifts of what one would otherwise only pay — and now someone still slanders the age in which an ideal, will-negating (especially wallet-cleansing) moment prevails and works in the middle of the selfish currents of the 19th century, and in fact through the influence — of religion, as my orthodox uncle2 would not refrain from saying. But it is by no means my intention to continue this paean any longer, which the newspapers are accustomed to offer us en masse every day. Rather, I wanted to converse with you at a leisurely pace, and if I add a superfluous word, you will forgive it, since unfortunately you must already be used to something similar with me. Besides, you know that "elderly people" (judging by the first page of my letter) also have the right to be a bit gossipy. In the last few weeks I have missed nothing in Leipzig so much as you yourself, and in fact for the following reason. After the many favors that you have shown me, I long to try to please you with a response, and fate, i.e., Ritschl has tossed an opportunity for it into my yarn in the event that you were in Leipzig. Namely, he has given me a nice topic for a doctoral dissertation, in order to find a friend of mine for the same thing. Of course you were my first thought: so then listen and see if you like it. In Meinecke's edition of Stobäus3 we have everything gnomological together, with one exception. The Collected Sayings of Maximus Confessor and Antonius Melissa were published for the last time,4 as far as I know, in the 17th century and were mixed together. Now Ritschl has procured the editio princeps;5 it will probably also be possible to have a codex sent to you or to procure a collation. Thus material for the doctoral dissertation: 1. The history of the text, i.e. manuscripts and editors. 2. what is very interesting and very instructive is to show the sources that the said monks used for their collections, i.e. the older gnomologies, Stobaeus at the top, for whom perhaps something can be gained from the text. This would then be followed by publication of the collections (of course only the profane parts: they also contain a lot of ecclesiastical items), independently of the dissertation. If you like this topic, it would ultimately even be possible for you to work on it in Berlin: Ritschl can indeed not have anything against it. So if you go along with the suggestion — which I do not encourage, but may wish in a friendly manner — just give me a short note. I will then go directly to Ritschl, who would have to be very happy to discuss it; I will write to you again, you will get what Ritschl has for material and perhaps you will be able to visit Ritschl sometime in the new year: something the old man really enjoys. Exemplary for this type of work is Ritschl's essay on the Gnomologium Vindobonense, Bonn indices from the year 1839 and [18]40 (also in the forthcoming second installment of his opuscula).6 The best manuscripts for Maximus Confessor etc. are Laurent. VII. 15 (sec. XI) and XI. 14 (sec. XII), cf. Rose Aristot. pseudopigr. p. 607.7 Useful: O. Bernhardt "On Gnomology Literature."8 Sorau, from the last few years. I therefore recommend this for your consideration: if you like the suggestion, you will make no one more happy than me. Would it not surprise you that Deussen — my last letter9 [to him] was from the beginning of September or the end of August — does not think it is a good idea to reply to me? Indeed, that I have not had any news from Gersdorff since October?10 The latter is just as likely to have a valid excuse for this as the former has none. I would have written to Deussen long ago if I only knew where he is living. 1. Hermann Mushacke (1845-1906): friend and classmate at the University of Bonn. Nietzsche and Mushacke visited Naumburg together on October 26, 1865, and visited Berlin and Mushacke's family in the autumn of 1866. For their exploits in Leipzig, see Nietzsche's autobiographical "Rückblick auf meine zwei Leipziger Jahre" (Retrospect on My Two Years at Leipzig). English translation in: Nietzsche's Writings as a Student. The Nietzsche Channel, 2012, 119-43 (121-29).
Leipzig, December 18, 1866: Dear Mama and Lisbeth, I am very pleased not to have received a letter from you up to this point; which gives me new hope for Aunt Rosalie's health.1 If you can find her any treats, then give them to her in my name and on my account. Today you should receive news about my visit: it will not be possible before next Sunday2 at 11 o'clock, that is, at the time I reached you on Sunday 8 days ago.3 I have very serious concerns about the transport of books, for which I currently lack a suitable chest. It is also going to be pretty expensive. Since you have given me quite a free hand with my own Christmas presents, I have bought and got a few useful books4 for a modest sum (about 4-5 Thl), which I can cover myself if necessary, and if the bookbinder does not let me down, personally bring them so that you can gift them to me. Pauly's Realencyklopädie,5 which I have been asking and asking for, cannot be obtained for less than 27 thalers, a fact that I have now resigned myself to for the time being. Moreover, I wish us all a refreshing and untroubled Christmas, but to me personally time and joy and success in my work. Your Fr[itz]. 1. Rosalie Nietzsche (1811-1867), his paternal aunt, died on 01-03-1867. Nietzsche describes his vigil at her deathbed in two letters. Naumburg, January 4, 1867: Letter to Hermann Mushacke in Berlin. In German; in English. "Schließlich habe ich keinen Grund, Dir zu verhehlen, daß ich heute sehr traurig gestimmt bin. Gestern um diese Zeit nämlich stand ich am Sterbebette meiner Tante Rosalie, die, um es kurz zu sagen, nächst meiner Mutter und Schwester die bei weitem intimste und nächste Verwandte von mir war, und mit der ein großes Stück meiner Vergangenheit, besonders meiner Kindheit von mir gegangen ist, ja, in der unsre ganze Familiengeschichte, unsre Verwandtschaftlichen Beziehungen so lebendig und gegenwärtig waren, so daß nach dieser Seite hin der Verlust unersetzlich ist." (Finally, I have no reason to hide from you the fact that I am very sad today. For at about this time yesterday I was standing at the deathbed of my Aunt Rosalie, who, to put it briefly, was by far, besides my mother and sister, the most intimate and closest relative of mine and with whom a large part of my past, especially my childhood, has left me, indeed, one in which our entire family history, and our family relationships were so alive and present that in this regard the loss is irreplaceable.) Leipzig, January 16, 1867: Letter to Carl von Gersdorff in Spandau. In German; in English. "[E]s war ebenfalls in den ersten Tagen des Januars, wo auch ich in Naumburg an einem Sterbebette stand, an dem einer nahen Verwandten, die nächst Mutter und Schwester die nächsten Anrechte auf meine Liebe und Verehrung hatte, die treulich an meinem Lebenswege Antheil genommen hatte, und mit der ein ganzes Stück meiner Vergangenheit und vornehmlich meiner Kindheit von uns gewichen ist." (It was also in the first days of January in Naumburg when I too stood at the deathbed of a close relative who, next to my mother and sister, had the most right to my love and esteem, who had faithfully taken an interest in my life's journey, and with whom a great part of my past and especially my childhood has departed from us.) [1866-1867]: Dear friend, On one of those cloudy, gloomy, snowy afternoons that transport the Englishman to inspired suicidal mania and, depending on our mood, upset us just as [+ + +] [+ + +] can comfotably be at home [+ + +] 1. There are four fragmentary drafts with negligible contents from this inexact time period. |
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there are to be found barely two 
and 98 
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