compulsion to respect it, in the consciousness; Nietzsche thinks that this was really their point rather than any utilitarian advantage, and he cites them to illustrate the view already mentioned that any rule is better than no rule, when the interests of civilization are at stake.[1]
Let us attend for a moment to the result itself. It is a notable one. Men not only know now what to expect of one another and so far cease to be böse in one another's eyes, although the world outside the group still has this character,[2] but they have a new feeling about themselves. They can promise, they may because they can—in other words, they have a sense of power. Brandes remarks that for Nietzsche a definition of man would be an animal able to make and keep vows (Gelübde).[3] The animal world in general yields no such phenomenon—action is apparently from the feeling of the moment, no engagements being made for the future. I say "men," "man"—but it would be better to say "some men," for those who vow and keep their vows are marked off from the rest, and, naturally acquire a sense of their distinction. They are the ripe fruit of the social tree; the ages of tyrannous discipline receive at last a justification in them, and, as masters of themselves, masters of contrary inclinations within and of untoward circumstances without, how can they fail to be conscious of their superiority, and to inspire confidence, fear, reverence in others! "The 'free' man, the possessor of a long unbreakable will, has in this possession also his measure of worth: looking at others from his own standpoint, he honors or he despises; and just as necessarily as he honors those like him, men strong and dependable (who dare promise) … he has his kick ready for puny windbags who promise without having the right to, and his rod for the liar who breaks his word the moment it is in his mouth." It is an extraordinary privilege (privilegium, special and exclusive advantage or right), that of responsibility, and the proud knowledge of it, the consciousness of this rare freedom, this power over himself and over fate, sinks to the innermost depths of his being and becomes an instinct, a
