THE SHADOWLESS SOUL: PARALLEL IDEAS

OP NIETZSCHE AND SWINBURNE

APPROVED:

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or Professor

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Director of fcheT)rtalent of English

_ .. . . "*-4. A D&in bf the Graduate School ^

THE SHADOWLESS SOUL; PARALLEL iDKAS'OP lilKTZSOftE

A>7D SVaNB'O'Rl'-iE

P r e s e n t e d t o tao G-r-fdtwte Counc i l of t h e

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INTROr/JCTEON. I"/

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IF. . RLL1G'~'0 > ] AMD Ei'HIOS 9

n r . VITALISM AND THE BTOMYoJ A.N SPIRIT . . . . . . 1.0

IV. POLITICS AMI) Hr .mr<y . 27

V. WHAT THE PARALLELS MiA* ^

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T h e p u r p o s e o f t h i s p a p e r i s t o p o i n t , o u t t h e p a r a l l e l s

o f t h e I d e a s o f N i e t z s c h e - a n d S w i n b i m i e w i t h t h e o b j e c t i v e o f

e x o n e r a t i n g S w i n b u r n e T s r o e t r y f v o w t h e c h a r g e o f " i n t e l l e c t - '

u a l t h i n n e s s . " I f N l e t t t c h e i s o n e t h e f o r e m o s 1: p h i l o s o p h e r s

o f o u r t i m e , a n d i f S w i n b u r n e { s t h o u g h t p r o c e s s e s c l o s e l y p a r -

a l l e l e d h i s ^ t h e n i t m a y f o l l o w t h e b S w i n b u r n e ' s t h o u g h t

c o n t a i n e d m o r e s i i ' o s t a n c e t h a n It, h a s - h e r e t o f o r e b e e n c r e d i t e d

w i t h . I n k e e p i n g v / i t h t h i s p u r p o s s s , i t h a s s e e d e d e r p c d i e r - S

t o l i m i t , t h e e v i d e n c e i n S v / i n b u r n ? 1 s w o r k s t o h i s p o e t r y #

t h o u g h a l l t h e w o r k s o f M e t z . s e h e h a v e b e e n u t i l l x o d .

T h a t t h e r e i s a d i s p ? r i t y I n tine d e p t h o f t h e t w o m e n i r

u n d e n i a b l e * O n e w a s p r i m a r i l y a p o e t , w i t h p h i l o s o p h i c 3 s a n , -

i r . g s ; t h e o t h e r w a s a p h i l o s o p h e r y / h ^ w r o t e p o e t i c a l l y . T h i s

di«3 p a r i t y i s i r r e l e v a n t t o t h i ° - p a p e r , r s a r e t h e c o n t r a s t s I n

t h e i r I d e a s , a n d w i l l n o t b e d e a l t w i t h . *lrVhat I s p e r t i n e n t i s

t h e i r o v e r a l l v i s w o f rr-an a s <* c r e a t u r e w h o c o u l d h a v e - l i m i t -

l e s s a n d u n i m a g i n a b l e p o t e n t i a l i f f r e e d f r o m c r e e d s a n d

c o n v i c t i o n s o f a n o u t w o r n p a s b « W h e t h e r t h e y w e r e h o p e l e s s l y

r c n a n t l ?. i n t h e i r a s p i r a t i o n s f o r t h e h u m a n r a c e o p g l o r i o u s l y

f a r e , l g h b o d I s a e u e s t l o r ; v h n t o i r . m t c o a n s w e r e d , l o r n o s * a n i s

e v l o w n i , w-.o h a s t h r o w n o f f t h e s h a c k l e ; ? el* t h e p e s t t o b e e o n e

4-V, -% ^ r v,. <- r, •* /

As a basic for the iofe'nno of tho two i?:on as existential'

ista, Sartre1 s essay on "l&d s tentlalimn as Humanism" has been

used to define existential:? %?., Knurice Friedman^ essay "Tho

Modern Vitalistfrom To Donv Cair thingness was the source

for the definition of vitalism.

CHAPTER I -

POPT AND PHILOSOPHER

Algernon CharJos Stfinburne is undoubtedly one of the most

controversial English poets of the nineteenth or any other

century, and Friedrich WilholTi Eietysche contInuos to be one of

the most polemical philosophers that the world has yet produced®

Both men were born in the first half of the nineteenth century,

Sv/inbarne in 1837 and Nietzsche in. and both grsr/ up. in

an age . ¥,lien the progression of science... ani_ industry _%as„.matohed

only by the acceleration of confusion.and-perplexity, concerning

man's. relati onship to the universe in his _ new and broadening

concept s of it • '

The philosopher and the poet emerged from similar back-i/ f

grounds, for iKietKscha'.s. father,was ,a pastor of- ilddl,g„»class

tssans^ and Swinburne .was the son of s captain in the Royal

llavy. Both led^sheltered boyhoods a m received good educations,}

and though Kietzacbe did not leave trie university as Swinburne

did, his repugnance for the staid and conventional existed with

only less early evidence than the poet's." Each(had an aversion

for the,.0000jsitp sepc..that progressed from the subtle to the

overt")as a result of like experiences* "3oo", or Jane Faulkner, /

laughed in Swi rihurm**s face when he propessd,' thus, Rare

1 Crane Brinton, NietascVic (new "fork. 19o5>) T p. 111<

1

2

believes, dooming hin fco his algolagnia. Lou. Salome, on the

other hand, did not dignify llietssche! £_ proposal of marriage

with an answer. The evidence of algolagnia in Swinburne's poetry

and the ambivalent attitude toward women in Nietzsche's philo-

sophy probably do not result from these experiences as much as

they further serve to prove that both were at least inept and

uneas y 1 n the.lr relati-on-t-.hiw v/lth v/cw©a. The fact is that each

man eventually, ,retreated, frop;i.vital .aud„ me^niugful intercourse

with man and life while., advocati pg the pgpxi3Atej_,a_ dynamic seek-

ing of harmoiiys, ..ar*,..,,.yea. saying, n.. wifcb- JLifa• Pf-.v r-p? only thooe

completely aware of the pair:. conp7.czit.1pp. of dealIng with

life and mankind could have so veheaiently proposed solutions

to the problem.

That Nietzsche attempted to deal v/Lth those perplexities

philosophically is unquestionable, I'or his "philosophy is so

profoundly relevant to the modern world that he is in many

respects more our contemporary than that of his fellow-Victorian* *'

Swinburne's works are another matter, for the charge has been

made by numerous critics that his poems are "intellectuallv .A

fcnin. ' As Kicolson puts it, "The main weapon of fehooe who

would disr.iiaa Swinburne as a mere prosodist is the. criticism 2 ' " .... — Humphrey Es.ro, Sv&r.ftarna (London, 19^9), p. Ij8»

"George Alien Morgan, What Nietzsche Means (Hew York, 1965},p- k* "" —

Berucrd D« N« G-rebs.nier, Literature, Vol. II, Barron's Education Series, Inc. («©>? York," l"9>8j 7"p. 690.

that 'he lacked a central core' , that he was both morally and

Intellectually tin-original in the sense, that all his ideas

£ and emotions were plainly literary, purely derivative."" If

this charge is lust, and tnis paper opposes It, then there

would seem little chane« of discovering parallels in the works

of these two figures. Hovover, t'ha contention here is that

while !Tietr.sche was a philosopher who poeticized, Swinburne

was a poet who expressed a definite philosophy, and though hie

very method of expression precludes the depths that Nietzsche

reached, there Is a similarity in the Ideas of the two men.

In the course of his writings Miebasche touched upon

practically ovory available subject, and poetry is not except©do

Re felt strongly that the poets, among whor.. he numbered himself,

had a definite mission, and he states It concisely. THE POET A3 GUIDE 'TO THE FUTURE. All the surplus poetical force that still exists In modern humanity but is not used under our condi tions of life, should (without any de-duction) by devoted to a definite goal--not to depicting the present nor to reviving and summarizing the past, bu„t to pointing the way to the future

Fere the poet is assigned the -role of prophet, for it is his

duty and privilege to reveal out of the morass of possibilities

the proper course for mankind to follow. Further, he is to

ins .i x*& many b y divining "those esses where . . . a great,

5; . *" Harold Nieolson, Swinburne (l-few York, 1926)5 p. 133. 6 Prxedrlch Wilhelm Kiatcscbe, The Philosophy of Nietzcch*,

edited by Geoffery Cllve (New Ycr k/T^61? J", " o71>22>' •

b

noble soul is still dog's: b"Jo'« whore it may bo embodied in

hartnonlous equable condi t1 onr,, nheef it 'ray become pexnr.&nenfc,

visible, and representative of e. type, ana so . . . create the

.J

future." Swinburne, wit.nin his limitations, fulfills this

obligation. In "Hor-fcha" suvl "Hyn-.n of Kan" bo discards the means

that man has used In the past ana advocates a now faith for man

to follow.

But the morning of manhood is j^isen, and the shadowless soul is in sight.0

and

He hath stirred him, aiid found out the flaw in his fetters 5 an:: cast thor.i behind;

His soul to his soul is a lav;, and his mind is a light to his mind.9

And again in "A Y,'atch in the Night,"

Liberty, what, of the night?--I feel not the red rains fall, Hear not the tempest; at all,

Nor thunder in heaven any more. All the distance is v/hute

With the soundless feet of the sun. Night, with the woes thac wore,

Night Is over and done.-u

Swinburne expresses a belief that the future will hold an

enlightenment that the past has failed to yield. LiUe Nietzsche, ? ^ ~ " " ~~

Olive, p.

S Algernon Charles Sslnburno, Sv/inbvrne, selected and

Introduced by Bonaory Dobree (Balt.imore, HdY, 196i } ? p, 86#

Q 'Dobree, p. 97.

10 Dcbree, p. 83.

5

he places his faj th in th.i future- of aisrn and his ability to

grow.

The stimulus and direction for- this future. Swinburne finds,

as Nietzsche did# in hero-worship,;his foremost hero being the

Italian, Kazzini, to whom Swinburne wrobe an ode as the cham-

pion of liberty. Other "noble souls" whom he eulogized were

Whitman, Morris, Rossetti, and, in common with Nietzsche,

Baudelaire and Wagner. ihe fact is evident that these were not

all necessarily the kind of herc-er, that Nietzsche may have had

in mind, and indeed- Swinburne utterly despises Nietzsche's

prime model, Napoleon, though this nay easily have been more a

nationalistic than an ideological difference. But the cult of

"hero-worship is common to both, for, as Mcolson says of

Swinburne, !i. « , the 1 interns: 1 centre1 of Swinburne was, I am

convinced, composed of - two dominant and conflicting impulses,

namely the impulse towards revolt and the impulse towards sab-

mission,'1"*"*" Whereas on the one hand Swinburne rebelled against

the conventions of his day, on the other he felt the necessity

tc submit himself to the worship of individual heroes who

stepped outside the conventions» Nietzsche,, too, chafed under

any restrictions of thought while searching for those who could

12 rise above the masses."

11 ( - -- - -><ic o 1 s o ns pp, 13-1 \\.

12 Friedrich Nietzsche, The 3J r th of Tra^ody '.nd the Ocjiouloprv

of Morals, edited by *'ranc.1 s " * ( « © W " 7 ~ P •"15ol

Although Nietzsche was realistic enough to hops that only

a few men could rise -above tbo "herd Korality" to become

TJebemenschen and Swinburne idealistic enough to advocate en-

lightenment for all, both clearly propagate an existential

ideal, f!. » « Nietzsche . , . does believe that human mortality

gives the thinker the 'freedom to experiment with his life, feels

himself desperately involved in his "chinking since he has to

decide the terns of his tenure) of life and to make tip his mind

13

on v/hat to do about thej and nobody can help him," " He con-

cisely states the existential posi fcion in Thus_ Spake Zarathustra *1 |

when ho says, "Become who you are/5"""1 and Swinburne parallels

this sentiment in "Hertha" by having her charge man with the

15 instruction, ,!I bid you but- be." " In the context of the

poem, Swinburne is commanding man to be ultimately human, for

3 6

he goes on to say, "I have need of you free," ' He and

Nietzsche both are declaring nan's emancipation from stereotyped

creeds of what he ought to be and justifying his right to deter-

mine hir- own destiny. Nietzsche confirms this interpretation

in Zarathustra's declaration, "0 my soul. I gave you the right 13 t

H. J. Blackhan, editor, KeaJLtiy, i.'.an and Existence: Works of Ex is tantiali am (I-lev/

U| The Port-able Jaetssche# sdite-d by Walter Kaufrnann (Hew

York, 1 5Tf)7~ p.~3i.pT•""" 7™""

1 ""'Dobree, p. 88«

""Dobree, p. 88*

t o say >Jo l i k e the s t o r m , and to s a y Yes as t h e c l e a r sky

n 1 ?

says Yes•

As both p o e t e.rd phi losopher- have e x p r e s s e d t h e e x i s t e n t i a l

p r o p o s i t i o n t h a t man must bo f r e e , f r e e to choose h i s own c o u r s e ,

so each "ras a l s o e x p r e s s e d t h e exi . s ten t5 .a l a t t i t u d e t h a t l i f e

i s an a b s u r d i t y and that , d e s p a i r comes w i t h the r e a l i z a t i o n of

t he absence of meaning beyond t h e f i n i t e . At one p o i n t , Nietzsche-

has Z a r a t h u s t r a a sk h i m s e l f , "What? Ar-e you s t i l l a l i v e ,

;hu;

"Why? V/hat f o r ? By what? Y/hither? where? How? I t i s ,,10

no t f o l l y s t i l l t o be a l i v e ? I n t h e same v e i n , Swinburne ,

i n "The Garden of P r o s e r p i n e , e x h i b i t s h i s p o s i t i o n r e g a r d i n g

dea th and l i f e ® We t h a n k wi th b r i e f t h a n k s g i v i n g

Whatever gods Kay be That no l i f e l i ves ' f o r ever j That dead men r i s e up n e v e r ; That even t h e w e a r i e s t r i v e r j q

Winds somewhere s a f e to sea* '

N i e t z s c h e goes one s t e p f u r t h e r by d e c l a r i n g , "The t hough t of -

s u i c i d e i s a g r e a t c o n s o l a t i o n s by means of i t one g e t s

s u c c e s s f u l l y th rough many a bad n l ^ h t . " ~~>

Xt i s e v i d e n t bnat t c e p o e t , Ix&s t n e p i ' i l o s o p n e r , c o n s i d e r s ,

a t l e a s t momen ta r i l y , t h a t l i f e i s a d e s p a i r i n g and somewhat

17,. . - } xauimtum, p . 3 K a u f m a n n , pp . 221-22 .

- 9 / 2 0 Dosree , p . olj.» O l i v e , p . 638s

8

ridiculous situation that u-in must somehow get through. Fur-

thermore, he_must .get through it by ins.king bis own choicer,

for man is his ov;n salvation* In Swinburne the idea of salvation

is asserted, by "Kerbha'1, the world spirit; "Find thou but thy-p\

self| thou art If"'""" and the responsibility of men to man is

stated'in "Hytrin of Man" when he says* "Men perish, but man op

shall er.dure j lives die# but the life is not d e a d . N i e t z s c h e

manifests parallel beliefs in salvation through SSarathustra,

"Now I bid you lose me and find yourselves; and only ivbsn you

have all denied me m i l 1 return to you,"2^ and in the univer-

sality of choice, "Higher than love of tho neighbor is love of

the farthest and the future The conviction that man must act now to form the future of mankind is strongly evident in

both writers. How he should do so and what ho should base his

actio.'is on are subjects that both poet and philosopher dwelt

upo n wi th of te a pa rallel c one opt is.

21 Dobree, p . 8)4»

22 Dob":eo, p. 97«

?-3 Kaufmann, p. 190.

£?..LL

' iiauf mann, p . 173.

CHAPTER i i

RELIGIOH A>fl) ETHICS

No solution for the betterment of mankind would, be accept-

able without a concept of ethics. i'raai tionally, western

civilization has accepted the Christian value system, and

Christian morality bas dominated its society, Swinburne, like

Nietzsche, rejected this syster.1, though neither made the Vic-

torian error of equating morality v/it.h sexual behaviour, but

rebelled against the Materialistic ethic Inherent in a rapidly

industrializing society®

Both writers dismissed. Christian! ty for basically the s&rae

reasons. In lojl Swinburne published Songs before Sunrise?

Tshich contains "Hymn of IJan." In it he states, tt0h fools, he

„1 was God, and is dead* and later* R« « • thy death is upon

„2

thee, 0 Lord,!* In 188? wietzsche's Gay Science appeared, in

which he declares emphatically, "The most important of more

recent: everits~-th&t 'God is dead.5, that the belief in the

Christian God has become unworthy of belief--already begins to

cast lbs first shadows over Europe,"" A year later, he spoke 1__ _ ^ ~~ ho i-fj , y. 9't> • 2 Dobree, p. 99*

^Clive, p. 3'39®

10

through Zarathustra, "Coaid it be possible? This old saint in

the for eat has not yet; beard a ay thing of this f that God is

dead?"^ Clearly both men felt strongly that Christianity was

no longer a valid creed for modern man to follow. But why?

What had brought about the death of God?

In "Hertha", Sv/inbume carefully builds a structure of ex-

planation for the invalidity of God, which is echoed in "Byron

of Kan" and "Hater Dolorosa.'' Fertha, who represents the world •

spirit, or freedor.1, begins by asserting

I am that which began; Out of me the yeaie roll;

Ox.it of me God and nanj I am equal and whole:

God changes, and man, and the form of them bodily; I am the soul®

Before every land was, Before ever the sea,

Or soft hair of the grass. Or fair limbs of the tree,

Or the- flesh-coloured fruit of my branches, I was, ar.d thy soul was in ine•

First, life on Biy sources First drifted and sv/ara;

Out of no are the forces That save it or dannj

Out of me. man and wor.tan* and wild-beast and bird; . before God was, I am,5

Thusj he concisely declares that the spirit of freedom, or

freeaon or spirit, supersedes man and God. That man was crea-ed

free ana cnos e G-od, rather than being created and chosen by God,

is made clear In a later stanza 7/hen he says of God

"Ka-ufmann, p„ 2u» ^Dobree, p. 85,

11

Thought made him and bro&ks hit** Truth slays and fo rgivos;

But to you, as time ta^a him.. . This new thing it gives,

Even, love, the beloved Republic9 that feeds upon freedom and lives

Even as man has created God, so does be have the right, perhaps

duty, to destroy Kim when He obstructs truth, "For truth only

is living,/ Truth only is whole." ''Herfcha" paradoxically ex-

plains bow man once needed God and she "Set tho shadow called

A

God/ In yovr sides to give 13 gh t,"~ but "Tho Gods of your

fashion? 'Aiat take and that g3ve• / • • • They are worms that

are bred in the bark that falls off; they shall die and not

llve."^ Man has juisstised God to escape the responsibility of

making further choices, and he wus 1- no.1' discard Him in order to

grow up or evolve into a being who can accept the "Republic#n

the freedom of being equal to his own destiny®

These ideas are restated in "Kpin of Man®" Here Swinburne

claims, "Therefore the Gud that yy make you is grievous, and

give not aid®/ Because it is but for your sake that the God of

your making is made."10 Unmistakably, man has fashioned a God

to serve ignoble ends, to excuse himseilf for being less than he

might bo. And in "Mater Dolorosa'" Svinburne condemns religion

again when he asks about the present generation# "Are they sons

6 ( Dobree, p. 89» Dcbree, p» JJ9*

9 Dooree, p. Ob. Dobree, p. 86®

JO Dobree, p« 92a

indeed o f the sons o f thy daysprins o f h o p e , / W h o s e lives

,/11 are in fief of an emperor, vi.v e soi.il.s of a fop©? '

It is o b v i o u s t h a t S v . l r / c u r n e e x p e c t s m a n , in effect, to

assume the r o l e of G o d , t o f a s h i o n his o w n d e s t l a y existentially*

For him, m a n i s not a statis entity but an e v o l v i n g force in

the - w o r l d . N i e t z s c h e a l s o a d v o c a t e d that man e v o l v e into a

Superman* H c v / e v o r , a s C r a n e J r i r i t o n h a s put it, "The r a c o f

Supermen vms n o ' G t o come b 7 / a n y s u c h . s u s p i c i o u s l y British p r o -

cess a s n a t u r a l s e l e c t i o n . . , h'xt b--" a dionyai&n exercise o f the 12

Will of Power»11 Kan must become- what ho w o u l d and should b e

b y choosing, a n d c h o c s i n y , dyrw t d e a l l y * Wietsseho is a s con-

else as S w i n b u r n e in h i s d i a t r i b e r . against Ohri:>tianity. In

K u r a a u , A l l ' - T o o - r t m a n h e s a y s

C h i ^ - s t i a n i r . y as a n t i q u i t y . ' . " / h e n vro Lear t h e a xc i c n t b e l l . 3 g r o r d n ^ o r . , a S u n d a y

K o r r i i n # , w e a ; - > k ourselvesr I s I t r e a l l y

potsihleI fehia, for a J e w , c r u c i f i e d t w o

t h o u s a r i u years ago, vfno s a i d h e was G o d ' s

s o n . T h e p r o o f of s u c h a claim i s l a c k i n g •

C o r U i n l y the Christian religion 5 k a n

a n t 1 quity pro,looted i n t o o u r t J m e e f r o m

r e m o t e p r e h i s t o r y ; a n d t h e f a c t t h a t t h e

c l a i m i s b e l i e v e d - - . w h e r e a s o n e :• s o t h e r w i s e

s o s t r i c t ; i n e x a m i n i n g pre t e n s Ions i s p e r h a p s

the- riio.vi; a n c i c n e pioee o f t h i s h e r i t a g e , 1 3

A n d Z s . r a t h u £ t r y dismisses G - o d a s a n illusion a n d t h e world, a 3 lii

•a drvnxen job for its imperfect creator." ' Re t?oes on to

e r p i r . l n , * A l a 3 . my b r o t h e r s , t h i s g o d whom I e r e ? i b e d w a s

i - - ; ! u r e o , p * l u l . " ^ " " B r i nfcen, p » 8]..

"""Kaufnann, p. 52* „ ^auir.iam, p, lis.3.,

13

man-made ana madness, like all -odai $an he was, end only a

poor specimen of man and et~o <'

In Tho Gay Science l-Tietzsehe*s madman speaks prophetically,

"'Whither is God' he cried. 'I Shall tell you. We have killed

1 6) him—you and I* . . . Gods too decompose. God is dead.""

And Nietzsche too asserts that God's death was a necessary

sacrifice on the altar of tj-uth,

God is conjectare; but I desiro that your conjectures should be 'linn.ted by what is thinkable. Gould you tWnk a god? But this is what the \/ili~to*™trut!i should mean to you.; that everything be changed into what is thinkable for man# visible for man, feelablc by man. You should think through your- own senses to their c o ns e que nc e s «1'7

It is Nietzsche5s contention that man must "overcome" himself

to rise to the rank of "Overman.According to him, life is

\8 "that which must always overcome itself , a n d Zarathustra

confirms this sentiment; "V/natever 1 create and however much

I love it—soon I must oppose- it and my love; thus my will wills

. ..19

i W Partner, beauty of spirit will be the criterion of the

great man, for Zarathus tra exhorts ME, :';And there is nobody

from whom I want beauty as much as from you who are powerful; 20

let your kindness by your final self-conquest.,f This idea is

15 „ , 16 iAUiniaria, p. ij. 3 • Kaufmann, p. 95®

17 . 18 Kaufmann# p. 19 d« £aufnar,n? p. 227•

1 o 20 ~ •'Kaufmann, p. 227, " Kaufmann, p. 230.

Ill

reflected in Swinburne1 s flml line of fiI[ymn of Man/' nGlory

to Fan in the highest I foi! Han i"3 the master of things e

When Nietzsche says, " • . • ever, the best i? something

that must be overcome, ^ he ia clearly calling man to question

all of his present- values and concepts and to evolve willfully

and purposely from his present s tsto into a higher one. He,

like Swinburne, obviously feels that belief in a deity and the

worship of it restrain wan from reaching the epiuorae of humanity

by weighting him down with unnecessary guilt and subservience*

This iij confirmed in their similar ablitud.es toward prayer*

Nietzsche expresses his position concerning prayer in a passage

in Trie Gay Science»

Kneels lor I 'You w.i 11 never pray again.. never adore again, never again rest in. endless trust; you deny yourself *my stopping before ultimate wis doc:, ultimate goodness, ultimate power, while unharness-* ins your thoughts; you have no perpetual guardian and friend for your seven soli~ tudes; you live without a view of mountains with snow on their peaks and fire in their hearts; there is no avenger for you, no . eventual improver; there is no reason any more -in what happens, no love in what will happen to ^ou; no renting place is any longer open to your heart where it has only to find end no longer seek , . . perhaps nan will rise ever higher whence once cesnses to flow out into a god* i 3

lie i?. more positive in his de nunci at ion of it in one section

of. Tine V/an&erer an.'] Kis Bhaiov;.

P1 Dob.roe, p. 99. • ^Kaufmami,p. 31?

2 3

Ka ufnann.p, 98®

15

PR/.YER. On tv/o h'/pcUi&s&s alone Is ther.e any sense in prayer, that not quite extinct custom of olden times# It would have to be possible either to fix or alter the v/ill of tho go&hesd, and the devotee v/ould have to knovr best hinisol/' what he needs and should really desire. * , But to have a chat v/ith Gods to &fik hin for a 11 kinds of pleasant things,, to feel a slight amusement at one's own folly in still having arc/' wishes at all, in spite of so excellent a father~~a.ll that was admirable invention for saiuts*^

Likewise, Sv/inbitrne denies the validity of prayerj "Hertha"

describes its ineffectiveness«

Mother? no t. rr.a ke r, Bornj and not made;

Though her children forsake her, Allured or afraid,

Praying prayers to the God of their fashion* she stirs not for ail that have prayed.25

In another stanza, Swinburne expresses decisively, through

Fertha, hie attitude- toward su.ppli cation when he says, "I pA

have neel not of payer;/ I have need of you free®"1™' At best

prayer Is a simpleton's delusion; at worst it saps man's energy

ana deprives him of his freedom.

If modern man. discards Christian beliefs, shall he discard

Christian ethics also? Both poet and philosopher seem to say,

"Yes i'! Swinburne's treatment of the subject is subtle while

NietnseneJs Is more direct. Nietsscho-s position is "if'God

is deac.', conscience can no longer claim to be an oracle of

lxvii.'' ui'am; and Inaeed tha history of morals makes it

2U , p£ Olive, p, 3/it Dobree, p. 85 •

2:-; Dobree, p. 88.

16

, ,*? probably an oracle of error*." " Speaking of tho Christian.

values, he says#

The intrinsic worth of ;xse values waa taker, for granted as a fact of experience put beyond question. Kobody, up to now, has doubted, that the 'good1 nan represents a higher value than the * evil*, in terms of pro mo ting and ber^f itirtg ibauk* nd gener-ally, even taking the long view. But suppose the exact opposite vrero true, What if the •good1 nan represents not merely a retrogression but even a danger, a temptation, a narcotic drug enabling the present to live at the expense of the f u t u r e

This vein of thinking leads ili euLsche to the conclusion that

paradoxically "good" is "evil,!i !iAnd beware of the good and

the jusfci" he admonishes, "They like to crucify those vfoo in-

vent their own virtue for ther.ise3.ves. . . "The good have

30

always been the beginning of the end*" In Nietzsche's eyes,

good is a weakness, in fact, the weakness that destroyed God*

According to his reasoning, God died of the virtue of pity.

"'You know how he died? Is it time what they say, that pity

strangled him, that he say how man hung on the cross and that

he could not bear it, that love of nan became his hell, and in 33

the end his death?*"'" Further, the Christian ethic is not a

valid one because the God who propagated it

I.-organ, p. 168, ^Golfing, p. 155. 2 9 1A • touZsHmi, p. l?o. J Kaufnann, p. 325,

31 Kaufrrann, p. 372,

1?

was e q u i v o c a l , He t>3.so i n d i s t i n c t # How a n g r y ha g o t wi bl< u s , t h i s w r a t h -snorfcer, b e c a u s e we a n o a r s t o o d 11.im b&diyi But v/hv d i d ha n o t soealc n o r e u l e a n l v ?

*<• - » v And i f i t was trie f a u l t o f o u r e a r a , \?.hy d i d ho g i v e us e a r s t h a t henrd him b a d l y ? . . . he b u n g l e d too much, t h i s p o t t e r who have n»ver f i n i s h e d h i s a p p r e n t i c e s h i p . But t h a t he wreaked r . w e i ^ e on hJ s p o t s and c r e a t i o n s f o r h a v i n g bung led thecs h i m s e l f , t h a t y/as a s i n a g a i n s t j ,ocd t a s t e ® The re i s good t a s t e i n p i e t y too; ' "aild'Yt, 'was t h i s t h a t s a i d i n t h e e n d , !'Av/ay y.-ith r- uch a goo I Rather no g o d , r a t h e r 1 make d~st:~ny or. : o n e ' s own, r & l h e r be a f o o l , r a t h o r be a prod one-s e l f I

So M e t z s c h e comer, a r o u n d t o h i s p r o p o s i t i o n t h a t man mast go 3H

"beyond good and e v i l " " " t o c r e a t e a new e t h i c , t h a t man m u s t ,

i n a n e x i s t e n t i a l s e n s e , p l a y t h e r o l e of God d y n a m i c a l l y and

v i t a l l y , f o r "v/hat i s done ou t of l o v e a lways o c c u r s beyond .

good and e v i 1 . , " ^

S w i n b u r n e , t o o , p l e a d s f o r a m o r a l i t y t h a t m i l go beyond

the p r e s e n t c o n c e p t s of good and e v i l , t h a t man w i l l c r e a t e f o r

h i m s e l f , v/he-i he s a y s ,

I s t h o u g h t n e t more than t h e thunders and l i g h t n i n g s ? s h a l l t h o u g h t gave p l a c e ?

I s t h e body no t more t h a n t h e v e s t u r e , t h e l i f e n o t more t h a n t h e n e a t ?

The w i l l t h a n t h e word of t he g e s t u r e , t h e h e a r t t h a n t h e hands o r t h e f e e t ?

I s t h e t ongue not more t h a n t h e ppeech i s ? t h e h e a d n o t more t h a n t h e c r-own?

And i f h i g h e r t h a n I s h e a v e n be t h e reaq 'e of t h e s o ' u l , s h a l l n o t h e a v e n bow down?

32 ) 00 Ka-j f a.inn, e n , 37 3 -7a * ~ Kauf martn, r , 37I4.

3k ^ ' Xsiif nanny p 9 1] [;[{,* , 1 ' f u o b r e e , p . 9o«

18

He also feels that the cthics of Christianity are in conflict

with modern nan's best Interests; ''Time and the Gods are at

,,36

strife. • For him, Cnristian morals have weakened man by

acting as an opiate to his creative instinct and directing his

energies toward life~af'ter~dcath: "Thou hast conquered, 0 pale

Galilean; the world has grown grey from thy breath;/ We have

drunken of things Lethean, and fed on the fullness of death.

Again and again, Swinburne reiterates his position that man

must overcome ideologies thaU hinder his growth; ,:por what has

he whose will sees clear/ To do v:ith doubt and faith and fear-

Hi s soul is even v/ith the sun/ Whose spirit and whose • # «

03

eye are one/ HI rj can no God cast down. . . As Humphrey

Hare puts it, Swinburne "recognizes that there is in man an

aspect of the divine. His human pcido, his corn-age, his latent

need for action impels hin to revolt. Man, being divine, is „ 3 9

•worthy of freedom.

The poet and the philosopher have indisputably discarded

Christianity and its cthic for a new morality thai" serves man,

and his ends, rather than serving a dead God and a dubious

promise of an afterlife, The new religion will be freedom, the

freedom to search out truth, and its ethic will be love, not

love of neighbor, but love of life itself.

, , 37 Do ore©, p. LLP.O Dobree, p. I4,3 0

3,0,_ _ 39 Dobree, r,» ? J«. Humphrey Hare> p. 129 «

CHAFER I I I .

VITALISM AMD THB DICI<JYSlAfJ SPIRIT

The love of life- advocated by both Nietzsche and Swinburne

constitutes a vitalism discovered as an essence within the frame-

work of exir. bential ism. As Ma uric a Friedman defines it, "The

heart of vitalism lies In dynamic movement itself, the pulsation

,,'J

of creative energy, the upvnrd thru3b. Ihis- upward surge of

man is a recurring theme in the works of both poet and philes-I

opher, and It explains the absence of carefully charted courses

and definitive values for the man of the future to follow, for

". * . the celebration of life and life energies, like the

words fdynamic1 and 'creative' themselves, evokes enthusiasm .2

more easily than It lends direction."

Vitalism Is action, physical and intellectual, based on

intuition, v.hich brings about a totality of being. It Is

necessarily a paganistic attitude and fosters spontaneity.

Nietzsche's Writing itself Is an e-cample of vitalism, and he

repeatedly manifests the vitalis tic oublook, • • . the fact that there exist nobler mel'hoas of utilizing the inventiorPbfr~* c;ods than in this self-crucifixion, and self-degradation of man, in vr-1 ch the 1

Imares Maurice Friedman, To heny Our Ik.thingners; Contemporary of han (New Yorkj'TddTT," pT"ilu7 ~

2 "Friedman, p. 63•»

jo

20

last two thousand yoars* of 'lOuropo ha*/a been past r.aster--thesv facts can for-tunately be still ner-co h<'ed f ron every glance thf.t wo cast at the G.focXan gods # these mirrors of noble ar.-I gran 11 ose men, in which the anitnal In :aan felt itself deified, and "aia'ngt devour itself in subjective f r e nz y .'3 "'

This attitude is reflected in Swinburne when he advocates that

man seek ;"oy rather than suffering arid rejects the Christian

approach- to life.

Wilt thcu yet take all, Galilean? But these then shalt not take,

The laurel, the pairs snd the paean, the breasts of the nymphs in the brake;

Breas ks more soft than, a dove's that tremble with tenderer breath*

And all the wings of the ^oves, and all the joy before death. , £ *

L'

Nietzsche, too, felt that joy ?/as the essential ingredient of

life: "As- long as there have been :nen, can has felt too little

joy: that alone my brothers is our original sin."' -Like Goethe*

Nietzsche felt that to find meaning In life, one must feel and

experience, and in The Gay Science he explains just how far man

must go in his search: „ . the secret of the greatest fruit-

fulness and the greatest enjoyment of existence Is; to live 6

dang o ro us1yI ' As Morgan puts It, 11 By subordinating morals to

life, he gives his ethics a frankly purposive basis* moral

3 Pri ecrich Kietzscbe, The Philosophy of Nietzsche (New

York, ic#!.), p. 713. ^

0 5' Decree, p. i}2. ' Kaufmann, p. 6 Ksuf !-:.ann, p. 97 •

21

rules are to be justified only In terns of the vital values

7

they produce.'1 Indeed, to establish theoe values, Nietzsche

was prepared to "fight theism, fight beliefs that deny this

life and this world. Swinburne, too., would have tian "strike out from the shore

9

as the heart in us bids and beseeches, athirst for the foam,"

for he believed that ''man. is the master of things. To

achieve totality, a union with the world, is the goal of man-

kind®

His eyes take part in the morning; his spirit outsounding the sea

Ask;; no more witness c-f warning from temple or tripod or tree©

He hath set the centuries at union; the night is afraid at his name;

Equal v/ith life, in communion with death, he hath found them the same.

Past the wall unaurmounted that bars out our vision with iron and fire

He hath sent forth his soul for the stars to comply with and suns to conspire«,

His thought takes flight for the centre who re-through it hath part in the whole;

The abysses forbid it not enter? the stars make room for the soul.

Space is the soul's to inherit; the night is hers as the day<-L^

Here is a description of Nietzsche's return to nature, but not

1?

to a cind of natural state ever before known* It is closer

to a state of i ncellee t.ual nature where, in Sv/i nburne' s words, 7 8 Morgan, p, 189. Brinton, p. llj.1.

9.. . _ n r w 10 Doeree, p. 19/* Dobree, p. 99*

11 , . 12 Dobree, p- 96* Iv; organ, p« 188«

22

"his soul is at ono with th? rennon of things that is sap to

the roots,"1-* or, as Motssehe puts it* "Your love of life

„-lli

shall bo love of your highest hope.

The vital:! stic tenets of "daring to be" ana,, further,

"daring to be happy" are unmistakably evident 5n the works

of both authors. As Lafouroade 3 ays of "Plertha," Swinburne

"r,;eans, the earth considered as an active, living and growing

force, or, as he himself puts it, 'the vital principle of

matter'. It is this spiritual principle and no longer, as

in the Fyrin of Man, the poet hirn.seIf, who demands the destruction J rj

of the 'false gods'."""" Tho command "to Be" is even more ex-

plicit in Nietzsche's "yea to life," "The 'immaculatc knowledge?

of the scientist and philosopher at which Niet/.sche scoffed

no longer nourishes the deepest needs of men. We learn about

the world only on condition of occupying a 'position' in it

. . . «"1^ But for Niet7,:--che, only a unique kind of man was

capable of rising above the "herd morality" to occupy a mean-

ingful position in life. In The Birth of Tragedy he describes

the Bionysiac spirit disclosing "the desire to tear asunder

the veil of Maya, to sink back into the original oneness of

nature, . . •"1^ And in Piece Foir»o he says, l X .. llr Dobree, p. 97* " rKaufrr!ann,p, loO,

15" Georges Lafourca.de, Swinburne, a Literarv Biorraohv

(New York, 1932), p. 176, ~~ ' ' «- ' lbr. P>erett »f. ,*<n3gh«, Liter#.' euro Considered as Philosophy;

The French Kxapjclo (iTov; %ork".""!""•o?y> p.'""£15 7 "*

' 17 , , ' (JoJiing, p. P.I *

23

'The yea-saying to" lift), even to its strangest and Dost difficult problems: the will to life re joic Lng at its ov/ri inexhuastiblenoss i i? the sacrifice of its highest types—' this is -vh'at I called Dionysian . . , to be the et eTrial ioy of Becoming itself. . «. •

Nietzsche's Dionysian assures further substance in contrast

with his definition of the Apollonian who "may be regarded as

the marvelous divine image of tho prinoipium indlvIduationis,

whose looks and gestures radiate the full delight, wisdom, and 1 o

I /

beauty of 'illusion1•1 Thus, while the Dionysian symbolises

active participation in life regardless of creeds or conse-

quences, the Apollonian represents a sublime, esthetic approach

to existence, Apollo is the opposite side of the coin from the

reality and suffering of Dionysios. Both are necessary to life

for "with, august gesture the god shows us hov/ there is need for

a whole world of torment in order for the individual to produce 20

the redemptive vision.

Swinburne echoes this description of wan as the conquerer

of life, of individual, roan overcoming his environment•

So tho soul see kin.-/ through the dark Heavenward, a dove without an ark,

Transcends the unnsvigable sea Of 5ears that wear out mercery;

So calls, a sumraird-s:!nging lark, In the ear of souls that should be free;

So points them toward the sun for mark Who steer not for the stress of waves, 0, And seek strange hologmen, and are slaves#*

x

1 8 . _ - - , l L ) Nietzsche, Philosophy, Golfing, p. 22 •

20 Go If i rg , pp. 33~3:i*

21 n Algernon Cnarlen Swinburne. The Complete Works of £=££*«» Swinburre, BorK?hur3>^mio^iri1icW"Tork.

1925 J, p. 2'J9. ~~ . '

o

Here we encounter a dichotomy In 3?:inUirne, for "while he

idealistically seems to docire freedom and enlightenment for

all mankind, there arises in this poem a suspicious tendency

to select the "souls that should be free," which implies an

affinity for a Superman theory raaeribling Nietzsche's.. Perhaps

his sentiments and pragmatically ho was forced to adopt the

attitude that all men wore not capable nor even interested in

"evolving" into a higher state• Certainly the re is a semblance'

of the Dionysian in "transcending the unnavlgablo sea" and to

the Apollonian in aspiring toward, the sun.

Assuredly, Nietssche docs reserve a minority for the "souls

that should be free*" He is careful 'to define just vho these

Dionysian Uebernienschen vili be:

Nov;, how are we to recognise Nature's most excellent human products ? They are recognized by the fact that an excellent man of this sort gladdens our senses; he is carved from a single block, -which is hard, sweet and fragrant. Fe enjoys only what is good for him; his pleasure, his desire, ceases when the limits of what is good for him are overstepped, . » . He is strong enough to aake everything turn to his own advantage.

Swinburne defines his idealization of man in similar terms.

Because man's soul is taan*a God still, Whstt kind soever waft his y/ill

Save his own soul's light overhead, None leads him, and none ever lesd,

22 Nietzsche, Philosophy, pp. 820-21»

25

Save his own soul he hath no i-.tar* And sinks, except his o'wr* soul guide,

No blast of air or fire of sari . Puts out the light who re by v»s run With girded loins our la rap lit. raco,

And each from each takes hear-t of grace And spirit till hi3 tun- be done,

And light of face from each man1 s face In whom the light of trust Is one; Sine e only s ouln that keep their place

By their own light, and wale;'! things roll, And stand, have light for any soul. 3

The man who keeps to the Units of his desires and his own good

would seem equal to him xho keopo Iii.s place by hie own light«

Further, the passing along of S!heart of grace" and "light of

face" is an idea parallel with Nietzsche's proposition "that

all things recur eternally, and we ourselves too; and that we

have already existed an eternal number of times, and all things

„2li

v/ith us. ' Thus, he proclaims the inevitability of the over-

man, of man's going under, and of his invariably recurring

greatness* Swinburne echoes this idea with "Men perish, but 25

man shall endure; lives die, but the life is not dead*"

The ideal man of both philosopher and poet will epitomize

man's greatest potential. Zarathustr-a declares, " . . . nan is

something that shall be overcome,r,^° and Hertha reiterates,

Bub thi"•> thing is God, To be man with thy might, To grow straight in the strength of thy spirit,

and live out thy life as the light.

23 _ 2k Door^e, p, JI• Kaufmann, p. 332.

, 26 Dobres, p. 9/* Kaufmann, p. 160.

2.? Debtee, p. 8^.

26

Zarathustra states a like c&ntitntfnbr "Verily, like the sun

I love life ana all deep aeas. 4na this is what perceptive

knowledge moans to me; all that i,-, deep shall rise up to ray

heights,""0 and again, "it is out of the deepest depths that

the highest must come to its height."-' Hertha, too, realizes

man's ability to rise to a perfection v/ith which she has en-

0. o' VV Q. iTj J~ #

One birth of my bosom; One beam of mine eye;

One topmost blojsom That scale3 the sky;

Man, equal and one ; / i t h m a n that is made of me, man that is 1t-°

Thus, the Dionysian, or Superman, is the man who in-

stinc fcively soars above the conventional,, who provides his own

light, a light whose fuel is. the intellectual and physical ex-

perience gained by reaching into the depths of life, by "going

under." Both Nietzsche and Swinburne call upon man to cast off

the encumbrance of an outmoded Christian belief to rise to a

new realization of his potential in the universe by experiencing

life vitally. And both provided answers to how man might cope

politically and historically with the 7,0rid that he would en~

c o unt e r i n his ne w ro1e•

TTo - 1 »*;. -v-, Y J * ir'

PO

Eaufmann,p. 236,

iiaui mann, p. doo. 30 Dobree, p. 90.

P O L I ' i ' l C S AND H I S T O R Y

N i e t z s c h e a n d S v / i t i b u r - n e s h a r e ~ 1 m u c h I n c o m m o n i n t h e i r

b a s i c p o l i t i c a l a n d h i s t o r i c c o n c e p t s , t h o u g h N i e t z s c h e o u t -

l i n e d h i a i u 9 a s i n r a n c h g r e a t e r d e ^ i i ® P o 3 . i t i c 9 . l l y , b o t h m e n

b o r d e r e d o n a n a r c h y # t h o i ^ ' h . To o t ^ s c h e c o n f i n e d t o t a l f r e e d o m

t o n i s o v e r i t i a n ' . / . o i l s S v , l n o 1 u r i i - - ; w a s r i o r e v a g u e a b o u t i d e n t i f y i n g

h i s f r e e s o u l s . H i s t o r i c a l l y , t h u i r s e n t i m e n t s a r e s i m i l a r i n

r e l a t i o n t o t h e u s e f u l n e s s - o f h i s t o r y t o m a n l i v i n g i n t h e

p r e s e n t a n d c r e a t i n g t h e f u t u . r o ®

N i e t z s c h e 5 s c o n c e p t o f a p o l i t i c a l l e a d e r 3 s m o s t e v i d e n t

i n h i s d e s c r i p t i o n o f h i s o v e r m a n . A s E r i c B e n t l e y e x p l a i n s

I t , , ' i i i e u z s c . i e , s c o n c e p t i o n c f a r u l e r I s m o r e l i k e P l a t o ' s

T i r c o c r a c y w n e r e t h e r u l e r s , t h o u g h g o v < $ r n e d b y h o n o r , d o n o t

c l a i m t o l e a d o r s u p p o r t t h e p o p u l a c e / ' " B e n t l e y g o e s o n t o

c.:;v>u j : i « j u ^ s c x t Q ' t r i e s t o g e t o e y o n d P l a t o ' s b e l i e f * t h a t

p h i l o c c r - h s r ? o u ^ h t t o r u l e , w i t h t h e b e l i e f t h a t p h i l o s o p h e r s

H H L i r u l e , t h a t t h e y a r e t h e l e g i s l a t o r s o f t h e v o r l d , t h o u g h

u r i a e v i n o v / l e a g e a , ' " " A n d l < i o f c 7 . s c h s h i s . 3 e l f d e s c r i b e s a s t a t e a s

J. , 1 1 !"> , J_ O h U S S c i i b o i l u L6"v" $ A i f

v" ! (* v of* I l O W j «-"/q -1 t j ( i h i l r d e l p h i a a n d h e w Y o r ^ T o ' l ^ T p 7 " *'

B e n h i e v , r>, l a 6

28

3 having no aim of itself; alone ^ivo it this aim or that,""

Ee clarifies these ssntlms-ntn it; lite Da-re»

Aa little state an possible. All political, and ec*ononic ' aFran^eroenbs arc not v,rorth it, that pre-cisely the most gifted spirits should be permitted, or even obliged? fee manage them; such a waste of spirit is really v,"ox*se than an extremity. . « • Our time, however wue*' It talks of economy, is a squanderer:it squanders vrhafc is most precious, the spirit.^

V/hat Nietzsche seems to be saying is that the state must be

organized and run under the directive of the high-minded v/ith-

out these ''gifted spirits" being involved in the mechanics of

government. Swinburne describes a ruler in similar torus, as

one

Whose eyebeams are not ns the morning's are, Transient and subjugate or lordlier light* B*3fe all unconquerable by nocri or night. Being kindled only of life's own inmost fire, Truth, stablished and made sure by strong desire, Fountain of all thi ngs living, source and seed® Force that nerfowe transfigures dream to deed, ^

u,

His ruler, also, is a philosophic sore vrho is far above the

ordinary man in stature. He Is, so to speak, the "fountain."

In "The Eve of Revolution," Swinburne decries the present

state of affairs in govei'i msnt as veil as the way men regard

libert;;, He depicts rr.rm 33 politically asleep and unaware of

their obligations, and suggests a general spiritual uprising

as tbe so 1 ution.

3 - . . li Ka * if ma rui, p. 1 • 0. 1 Kauf ma n a, p» 32.

3' Bonchurcn rlaition, Vcl. IV, p, J-5 «

29

Say to ray spirit, 'Take Thy trumpet too, and inako

A rallying rcus Ic i;4 cho vc-u; night's ear,

Till the s born lose Its truck, And all the night go back;

Till, as through slnep false like knoT/s true life near,

Thou knov; the morning threx;gh the night, And through the thunder silence, and through

darkness light,'

Till change unmake things rondo and love renake; Reason and lov 3, whose nsr:iea are oris.

Seeing reason Is pre sunlight shed from love the sun.J

Nietzsche's sentiments a re similar, for in 3©yo_nd Good and

Evil, he describes contemporary cire urns taneas *

Tt Is the age of the Lasses; they lie on their belly before everything that is raassive. And so also in politics» A statesman who rears up for them a ne7/"To9er of Babel, soiae monstrosity of empire and power, they call 'great?--vjhat does it matter that -je nore prudo;nt and conser-vative ones do not meanv/hile give up the old belief that It is only the great though# that gives greatness to an action or off ai r

Dissatisfaction m th the present political situation is evident

in hot a quotations. But both nien went further ana advocated

what 2ius b have seemed a r evolut lonar y solution for the ooli ti —

cal Ills of the nineteenth century.

Eric Bent,ley expounds upon liietssche's solution, ". . .

all Nietzsche's later plans are pan-3uropoan. Europe v/ill

beeone one politically because It Is rnpidly becoming one

economically and culturally. National states are an

6 Bonchurch Ed., Vol. II, p. 77 0

7 .. Nietzsche, Philosophy, p. 5. 0®

8 a n a r c h r o n i s m , " and f u r t h e r . , n l ' i o t K s c h o recomme-n&od a -union

w i t h R u s s i a and an *um>?rsfc«jnd.lnp;' w i t h B r i t a i n . ' 1 ^ N i e t z s c h e

c o n f i r m s t h i s v i ew when he says t h a t " i t i s E u r o p e , th© one

E u r o p e , whose s o u l p r e s s e s u r g e n t l y and l o n g i n g l y , o u t w a r d s and

u p w a r d s . . . ^• And i n Human, A l l Too Human, he s t a t e s h i s

c a s e c o n c i s e l y '

The European nan and t h e a b o l i t i o n of n a t i o n s * Trad^Vn(f '"fndus*try»*"boox and T e tTfc"ers7 tKe^vny i n wh ich a l l h i g h e r c u l t u r e i s s h a r e d , t h e r a p i d change of house and s c e n e r y , t h e p r e s e n t noraadic l i f e of everyone; who i s not a l a n d o w n e r — t h e s e c i r ~ cu ras t ances n e c e s s a r i l y p r o d u c e a w e a k e n i n g , and f i n a l l y t h e a b o l i t i o n , of n a t i o n s , a t l e a s t i n E u r o p e . . » » H

S w i n b u r n e , t o o , a d v o c a t e s a n a n t i - n a t i o n a l i s t i c p o l i t i c a l

s t r u c t u r e s I n "The LVe of R e v o l u t i o n , n he b i d s h i s B r i t i s h ,

r e a d e r s

B u i l t up ou r one R e p u b l i c s t a t e by s t a t e , Eng land w i t h F r a c n e , and b r o n c o " w i t h S p a i n , 1 0

And S p a i n w i t h s o v e r e i g n I t a l y s t r i k e hands and r e i g n .

He f e e l s s t r o n g l y t h a t t h e a b o l i t i o n of n a t i o n a l i s m w i l l

d e s t r o y p e t t i n e s s and p r e j u d i c e and w i l l p e r m i t t h e r i s e of

a new t y p e of p o l i t i c a l s t r u c t u r e , b a s e d on " l o v e , t h e b e l o v e d

R e p u b l i c , t n a t f e e d s upon f r e e d o m and l i v e s F o r hitri t h e

i d e a l s t a t e to.xx e x i s t where "Dead on whose t h r e s h o l d l i e s

8

10

Q B e n t l e y , p . ll|_?. • ' B e n t l e y , p . li; 8 .

N i e t z s c h e , P h i l . , p . 5y<?. "^Kaufmarm, p . 6 l . 12

Bonchurch E d i t i o n , I I , d , 8 $ . 13

D o b r e e , p . 8 9 .

31

heart-broken habo,/ Dead, discord, dead injustice, doad d<

pair; / 0 love long looked for . v/herofore wilt thou wait,/ And

ill show not yet the davm en ~ohey bri:;ui; r.axr, ' ' For both men,

the perfect political sfemeturo vi'Jl provide the maximum freedom

for trie individual, to g r w and develop into whatever potential

he possesses without moral or loga'i restraint. Nietzsche speaks

for both when he says, 'f PolitlcyJ superiority without any real

„I.t'

human superiority is most harmiuji.

In relation to history, the two raen shared a common vie?/

regarding the usefulness of historical study to modem man®

In The Use and Abuse of Pis tory, Mietssehe states, "An excess 3 6

of history seems to be an enemy to the life of a time. , . ."

He does not negate the value of historical knowledge, only the

extreme reverence for it that stifles initiative and ability

to innovate new solutions for new problems. 31sewhere in the

same work, he contends that "the knowledge of the past is de-

sired only for the service of the future and the present, not

to weaken the present or underline a living future."1^

ixii e t^3 co.e divides history/ into three categories, and

Bentley has described them concisely* Antiquarian history Is the history of such things of beauty as appeal to the man of reverent and conservative nature. * * *

doncnurcr rki., Voi» it, p. 91» * Eauftnann,p. 1^8, 16

Fried rich Ifietzcchc-, The T ; s 0 rjld Abuse of History (New York, lOkn), p. 28, — *-

17 ~' Kiebzsehe, K1 story, p. 22,

32

Monumental history is th.# history of examples, teachers , and comforters, and it ministers to the ne-id of the man of action and power. Tino sou1, of history is found in the imp-ale it gives to a powerful spirit. . • • Critical history is also necessary. It. breaks up tho past and applies it to Ufa,, It, questions. It judges • Finally, it condemns; fo't- former- standards must be surpassed. • • • hather act ana take the conseq\*ences than refrain from doing a ,0 good thing because one cannot do it better.

Clearly, Nietzsche is promoting a selective history which will

enable man to forget as much ay he retains and to rid himself

of cunibera ome pr3 judices «

There are parallels to this evaluation of the utility of

history in Swinburne. He, too, aeevn bo feel strongly that

history must not deter the course of the future. This sentiment

is evident in "The Eve of Revolution*'*

The night is broken northward; the pale plains Arid footless fields of sun-forgotten snow Peel through their creviced lips and iron veins

Such quick breath labour and such clean blood flow As s unmor-a trie ken spring feeds in her pains

When dying 11 ay bears June, too young to know The fruit that waxes from the flower that wanes;

Strange tyrannies and vas t, Tribes frost-bound to their past,

• • • « • * * « * « • © * # * * * * • » * * * # « « #

Here he describes the enmeshraont in the past and the struggle

to breaK. thronga to the needs ef the present and future. But

Swinburne, *,va.i also aware that the past had value for man® In

"Hertha" he depicts history as

13 , """ " Bentley, p. HiQ.

19 Bonchurcn Edition, Vol. IT? 0. 80.

33

Yfo.era dead ages hide under Hie live roots of the tree,

In my darkness the thundea* Makes utterance of me;

In tho clash of my boughs Y<lt£L each other ye hear the waves sound of the .sea*^

Thus, history Is always there, a "thunder" that makes itself

heard and felt, the divine voles paralleling Kletzsche's anti-

quarian and monumental concepts of history. Swinburne decries

the present when "things long passed over suffice, and won are

PI

forgotten that were," """ implying that the present has selected

the worse Instead of the better out of its pasts

It is clear, when Kietssohe sa^s man "must organize the 2?

chaos in himself of" !thinking himself back' to his true needs,1' and "everything that is born Is y qrthy of being destroyed,

that he is echoing Swinburne's thought in "The Eve of Revolution":

0 time, 0 change and death, Whose now not hateful breath

But gives the music swifter feet to move Through sharp r erne as-tiring tones Of refluent antiphones

More tender-tuned than heart or throat of dove, Soul Into soul, song into song,

Life changing into life, by laws that work not wrong. ^

Obviously, both poet and philosopher are, again, rejecting

much of past and present cysterns in favor of a revolutionary

approach to Xife. Again, In the spirit of vitalism, no dogmatic

2 0 on Do ere c, p. 87. v , i 0

Dooree, p. 42. 22 Nietzsche, History, p, 72.

23 ™ i,xetzscne, Bistory, p. 21«

2u ~ 'Bor.churcii edition, Vol. II, p. 89.

3-4

fortrrula or system I,«? advucatad, bu!; an open, and fluid oppor-

tunity to explore the infill*".© porsibl. 1.1 ties of man's self-

realizati on.

n i l % r^r-l T - p r f \J 1 > ri. 4, X i e 11 V

WHAT T£TS FA FALLALS ?.&!&?*

As t r a g e d y p l a y e d a l a r g e r o l o i n t h e l i f e of t h e p o e t

a s w e l l a s t h e p h i l o s o p h e r , so i t f i g u r e s l a r g e l y i n t h e

w r i t i n g s of b o t h men . F o r theirs, p a i n '-nd s u f f e r i n g y/ere t h e

f a b r i c f r o m w h i c h g r e a t t h o u g h t s a n d d e e d s v/ere woven* S w i n -

b u r n e exp re s se r? t h i s a t t l t u d e I n : 'Ave A t q u e V a l e , " w r i t t e n I n

me f'X- r y of Baud e 1 a 1 ve *

Thy l i p s i n d e e d h e t o u c h e d v.dvh bit- ' jex1 v / l ne . And n o u r i s h e d them ind^o?] .-/I th b i t t e r b r o a d ;

Ye t s u r e l y f r o r h i s hard , t h y a c u l 1 a f o o d c a n e , The f i r e t h a t 3 j a r red. t h y s p i ^ l t a t h i s f l a m e

7/as l i g h t e d , and t h i n e b a n g e r i n g h e a r t h e f e d •vVho f e e d s o u r h e a r t s v d . l h f a m o •

And e l s o - v h e r e he <3 e s c r i b e s hov,' e v i l c r e a t e s g o o d , "A f a l c o n

f l e d g e d t o fo">?C7/ a f l e d g e l i n g a n y © . / And by t h e fume and

f 3 sine of h a t e of i l l / The e x u b e r a n t l i g h t and b u r n i n g bloom

.2 of l e v e R e r i b a , t o o , : ~ a n l f e e t i t h e c r e e d of e n l i g h t e n m e n t

th rough , s u f f e r i n g v ^ e n s h e s a y a ,

0 c h i l d r e n of b a n i s h m e n t , S o u l 3 ov e r e a s t ,

Wore t h e 1 i g h t s j o s ee y a n ! s h rjeant Alv/ay t o l a s t ,

Ye v.ould n o t t h e s u n ov e r r n i i n i n g t h e s h a d o w s and s t a r a o v e r p ? t , >

1 , 2 D o h r e e , p . 126• L ' o b r e e , p . 1 1 0 .

" D o b r e o , p« 86®

3r

3o

ana

My own blood is what r, The woundo in my barkj

Stag's caught in my branches? Make day of the dark, ^

And Swinburne had experienced v/ounns in his bark, first from

his slightly grotesque physical appearance and his difficult

relations with a father who could not understand hitn, and later

from his abnormal, perhaps hor.oscuual, tendencies and the un-

conventional and unstable life he led as a result of his

P

aberrations. Added to this v/as his nnfortunato love~affair,

which may have, as Cassidy says, boon with Kary Gordon rather

than "Boo", ^ a futile and last grasp at normality. ,irrhe

happiness of true lovo, the expaneion of identity that cones

with marriage, the deeper understanding of the cycle of life

that cones with having'children ana watching them 'nature—theso 8

experiences were never his,"

Similarly, Nietzscne, by the very nature of his temper-

aaent, VIAs cuc ofx I. ro'ni Wi:• a'j Lb called a nori/ial and conventional-

life and carried with him even into hie final insanity a k ~ 7 7 " ~ ~ Dobree, p. So*

3' John A. Cassidy, Al 'r.o;-!. c, Swinburne (New York. 1Q6)l)«

Chapter I. ' ' . • > s

6 . , , 7 Gassxay, p» 5'7* . C;t!:;sid;/', p. 6L.«

8 Cassidy, p. l6l.

37

9

consuming and hopeless love .for Ccsi'ma Wagner« ZaratnUotra.

declares, Whence come the highest mountains? I once snked. Then I learned that they came out of the sea* The evidence is written in their rocks and in the walls of their peaks. It is out cf the deepest donth that the highest must come to its height.-'^

That evil and suffering produce good is evident when Nietzsche vi

says, "When virtue has slept, she will, get up more refreshed. '

Bentley explains Nietzsche's position; "Nietzsche believed that physical sickness teaches mental health* Suffering is cathartic

] ? and convalescence a sort of monta! pregnancy," and later,

, Cathartic suffaring and voracious yearning bear

• 13

Nietzsche beyond time to etej-nity*'1 This point of view is

clear in Nietzsche's statement i,hat "the discipline of suffer-

ing, great suffering—kne^ ye not that it is only this discipline ll,

that has produced all the elevations of humanity hitherto?""

The death of his father, his youth in a matriarchal household,

his strange temperament, and his final insenity conspired to

imbue his life with the suffering and tragedy that mark so many

of his writings. "No German has ever united j>o powerful an 9 'Walter Kaufmarri »M'J tzsche: _ Philosopher, Psychologist,

Antichrist {New York, T^olT'pT ifC'T" "

^^Kaiifnann, Port_able Nietzsche, p. 266. 11 Kaufmann, £ortable Ki ? v?.sch•:>, p . $<- •

1 2 ~~

Bentley, p. 99®

3 3 Bent-ley, p» 100.

3 8

intellect v/i bh so fine a sensibility," says Bent-ley* "A b o m

artist and a b o m prophet, he was not allowed to live his life.

Society provided no rnan co father hint, no woman to marry him,

no credible G-od to protect him, no f a;ae to flatter him,"*""

Further, "He was . . . a man acubely aware of the loneliness

of the human s ituatiomu"^

These similarities in the lives of poet and philosopher

seem to offer a partial explanation for their parallel view

points of life, but a plausible and more universal reason

exists® Both men lived and wrote in the same era, an era in

which Dam/in and the theory of evolution had revolutionized

man's concept of his relation to the universe. Dogmas had been

shattered, and man had quite literally been flung against the !

solid wall of his own resources. Further, this was the century

in which Schopenhauer introduced his theory of the Will and i

Kegel expounded his theory of phenomenology and the ever- ]

questing dialectic. This same climate produced Karl Marx and

his revolutionary political and social theories. The intellect-

ual milieu of the nineteenth century was charged with scientific

and pnxlosopnic innovations, resulting in dynamic reactions

stains tne social, dogmas o I /ictorianispi ard the philosophic

rigidity of logical positivisa,

Pernaps it J.S not surprising t;>.at two ueri writing in

separate languages of culture? related by a din sna distant

past should have stumbled upon nearly identical concents.

15 1 L Bent ley, p, 106. Bentley, p. oc«

39

7/hat is remarkable is that Idcai; should have been so far-

sighted and that they shcuM h a w so zlnevXy envisioned the

dilemma in which twenfciocr., 2-~'it'cy ~c<:we uld find himself*

Bietzsche and Sv/inburne both real3 zed th&fc modern wan would be-

come estranged frum the materiel valuoa of the nineteenth centurx

as well as the spiritual vaiup-s of the entire Christian era,

and both sought to provide direc fcinn for- the man of the future,

but a new kind of directive without dogma and without stricture.

I n a general sense, neitr.tjv Kiet-'.:- cb? nor Sv/inburne was

different fro re his intellectual contemporaries, for, as Jaspers

says, n» . • those who contemplated t;io future of mankind from

the most ru.i-ti.fs.nous ourlno.ts. woro ail, during the last century,

inspired v/ith a sense of darner, ;.?an felt that his future v/as

iRiperxllea. T^e widespread rcJlIustioR of human uniauenes, j

that 'ssnat. man is, can be, and oughl to become is continualLy

changing, norevep, not oriiy w! th &&ch now culture and period of •j Q

history, but also with each ne»f :.ndi"5idua J.n did not come until

the twentieth century. But Hollo >fcy declares that Nietzsche

was a true prophet of this condition, that he "foresaw the

destruction of values which vot'ld occur in our time, the loneli-

ness i emptiness end anxiety which v.ouJ d engulf us in the twen-

tieth century • . . saw that v.o cannot ride on the goals of

- ' K a r l J a sP® r y» Man In the Modern h^e (Key? York, 3.957),

Id Friedman. o» 18

1[0

<3-9

the past," ' It is apparent thab Sv/inbvrne, too, anticipated 20

the future and its nihilistic trend. as clearly as Nietzsche

21 himself, thus fulfilling his role of poet-propheb in the

Nietsschean definitive«,

This explanation for th« parallels must suffice, for all

evidence precludes any direct influence. It is. unquestionable

that both ad Hired the Pre rich, particularly Baudelaire and his

philosophy of the beauty of evil, Hov/evev, neither man had

any notaoxe rospect for the nationai cult»ure of the other*

Brinton states Nietssche'a -position regarding the Englishs

Pre?" An^lo-Ssxon thought laetssche got very little He coulct not read English v;ell, ar, he could French, in the original. He see/us to hove read little in translation, though as a good nineteenth century intellectual he had picked up* if only from con-versation and reviev;s . a.l"j the necessary names and tags a he had. v/nat was .1 n the 15301 ? among Germann a most- foresighted dis3.ii<e for the English* whom he regarded as a shallow race incapable of philosophy and aevoked to the decadent illusions of Trade and Science

Apparently Sv/inburne's was not even considered one of the

necessary names, for there is no record of .Nietzsche's ever

having Mentioned it. This is not surprising in view of the

fact cna.c Swi.ribumo's v/or/cs were ot'ten supressed. by his

V i c t o r i a n c o u nt r viae n *

'Rolln li ° ^ants. Seai'ch for Finis elf (Mew York, 1967) ,

i u "'-'--d Crosse, G . d*, Ttie Lit'e of Algernon Charles Swinburne (He?/ York, 1917), p7~30T.~~ — * - —

21,. , " pp jaspers, p. 15« ~ Brinton, p. 80.

kl

Swinburne, likewise, ssems to have disregarded Germany

and her culture except for* ono aspect. Mrs. Disney Leith

quoted him, "I hate them otherwise, but I must say the one-

good thing the Germans can do--su^ic--they do so much better

,.2l

than any other people that no one even cones second. ^

Furthermore, "Among modern Muropean literature, that of

Germany influenced him scarcely at all.. He distrusted Germany,

and there is no evidence that he was thoroughly acquainted v/ith p j .

her language or her 1jterature*n"^ Add to this the fact that

Nietzsche was not accepted or widely read in Germany, much less

England, until after he became insane in 1890, and the evidence

seeais 'conclusive against any chance of either of the men in-

fluencing the other*

Even so, a common complaint against both the philosopher

and the poet is that while both wrote f 3 ovingly and poetical] y3

neithex' carried a logical philosophy through to a consistent

conclusion based upon a firm foundation. Cassidy says in re-

lation to Swinburne that It is a truism that no artist- can rise to thw full height of his powers until his feet rest on the bed-rock of a settled philosophy and until he feels confident of himself and of what he is doing. He must likewise find his own answers to the great questions of life. . . . In l86l George Meredith put his finger squarely on Swinburne's major weak-ness when he wrote of bimj ', . . I don't see any internal centre from which spring?, anything that he does.'"* 2

23 Mrs. Disney Lsj.tr-, Algernon Charles SwinbiJ.rne, Personal

£e,c'-llec11 ons by Hi £ ~yor7f,"~1^777^T77/r

2^Sanaiel C. Chev.-, Srlr..r,tsri<s (Bo? »on, 192Q), p. 2'(1, Ca s s id y, p * 79 ,

' • ••••• • )j2

Ana when Cassidy describes Swinbvrne as "a complete romantic,

and what he encountered in life. If it moved him emotionally

and impinged upon his. consciousness > wa3 quite certain to come

cut in his writings," he could also be speaking of Nietzsche#

Indeed, Bentley says of Nietzsche's writing,

What did evolve was n&i thar~-in a departmental sense—literature nor philosophy but a strange cosibinaticn of the two? a. combination character™ is tic of a man who could begin a paragraph with lyrical praise of a mountainland end it in phi!osophic technicall t i e s 1

And Kaufnarr. describes a co:;r-.oii attitude toward Nietzsche's

works; ". . .it also soo'-is that as a philosopher he represents

a very sharp decline—and nen have not been lacking who have

not considered him a philosopher at all—because he had no

„?8 'system' . Kaufiriann.goe,? on, hov/ever, to defend Nietzscho in

this respect with the following 'passage from Nietzsche.

The v/ill to a sys ten:; in a philosopher, morally speaking, a subFle'~.orr-aption, as disease of the character; amorally speaking, his will to appear nore stupid than he is. . * . I am not bigoted enough for a system—and not even for my s;vstern.29

1/Vhat Uietzscho is referring to is the philosopher's refusal to

quest-ion his own basic premise, and Niebzpche went further by

refusf nt- to even adopt a b&sic pronise, for he saw too clearly

07 Cassidy, p. 50. "(Bontley, p. 109.

23 Kam'a.ann. Nietzsche; P'niJxs ooner, p, 63 «

20 'Kauftsann# Nietzsche: Philosopher, p. 66.

1*3

that every issue is rr.ulti'-difeensicnal and therefore worthy of

question* He carried within him "the astonishing suspicions

Perhaos mv ro.s nol is falsei1'"^" ''Nietzsche ins is ts that tne

philosopher must be willing to rr.a Ke ever new experiments; he

must retain an open mind and be prepared, if necessary, 'boldly

. 31

at any time to declare himself against his previous opinionl'""

The result of Nietzsche's method of eternal examination

of all issues is that his v,orks abound v/ifch contradictions and

lack the firm foundation of one basic premise from which, all

ideas radiate. The same can be said of Swinburne, and this

method could well explain the absence of a "central core" in

Swinburne's writing and would refute those who deny the philo-

sophic content of his works, The evidence suggests that if

Nietzsche is a philosopher, as he undeniably is, then Swinburne

must also have developed enough philosophic insight to exoner-

ate his "poetry from the charge of shallowness and "intellectual

thinness." Thus, it is not only possible but logical to apply

Kaufmann's critique to Swinburne as well as Metssche, and the

same conclusions may as well bo drawn cf the works of one as

of the other. When Kaufmann defends Nietzsche's method as be-no

ing appropriate in an age of fragmentation, it is the

contention here that this defense nay be applied with equal

validity to Swinburne, 30 Bentley, p. 11?.

•' naufmann, Metzsche; ?hilo00phei-, p, 71<

32 * Eaufmann, Nietzsche?: Phi lor cure':', p, dO.

kk

The fact stands that both Metssehe and Swinburne were

searching in their ovm ways "for truth, and that their methods

and results vere remarkably similar, for both must have be-

lieved sincerely Nietzsche's «tat s^ient, "Convictions are more

! 33

dangerous enemies of t ruth- than lien .''' Each rose above the

tragedy of his personal, situation to dream of the possible

greatness of mankind and to propagate the hope that man could

attain the "shadowless r.oul."

33 Kaufmann, Portable Nietsscbe, p. 63.

•}/'- : r t

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