New ears for new music.
New eyes for what is most distant.
A new conscience for truths that have so far remained mute.
And the will to the economy of the great style: keeping our strength, our enthusiasm in harness.
Reverence for oneself;
love of oneself;
unconditional freedom before oneself.

I don’t know what they are, and I haven’t been able to find anyone who could provide me with any leads. Nietzsche mentions the “seven solitudes” in a number of places: the preface to The Antichrist, section 988 of The Will to Power (as numbered by Kaufmann and prior editors), sections 285 and 309 of The Gay Science, and perhaps others as well (I am not a Nietzsche scholar; I was able to locate these passages without much difficulty, but I have never performed a systematic search through his texts). I have not found any passage in which Nietzsche gives a clear explanation, and I strongly suspect there are no such passages. What he meant must therefore be inferred, or guessed.

Section 285 (titled “Excelsior!”) suggests that renunciation of God (who might act as guardian and friend in our solitudes) requires great strength. Nietzsche tells a parable of a lake that dams itself and suggests that renunciation might provide its own strength, in that renunciation is a refusal to allow strength to flow out like lake water.

In section 309 (titled “From the seventh solitude”) a “wanderer” laments his inability to rest or succumb to seduction by the apparent and the beautiful (Armida’s garden) because he is driven by a passion for truth.

Section 988 may be illuminating in that it ties the seven solitudes to one of Nietzsche’s more familiar themes: our masks, our continual and inescapable deceptions and self-deceptions. Kaufmann translates section 988 as follows:

The Will to Power Section 988 (1885)

by Friedrich Nietzsche (tr. Walter Kaufmann)

We new philosophers, however, not only do we start by describing the actual order of rank and differences in the value of men, we also desire precisely the opposite of an assimilation, an equalization: we teach estrangement in every sense, we open up gulfs such as have never existed before, we desire that man should become more evil than he has ever been before. In the meantime, we are still strangers to and from one another. We have many reasons to be hermits and to put on masks—we shall therefore be poor at looking for those like us. We shall live alone and probably suffer the torments of all seven solitudes. But if we should come across one another, one may wager that we mistake or mutually deceive one another. [Footnote omitted.]

This theme is touched upon throughout Nietzsche’s writing; section 40 of Beyond Good and Evil comes readily to mind, and there are many, many other passages (see, e.g., BGE section 44 and the passage I quoted in my original post above). Disentagling the seven solitudes from such passages, however, requires a sharper mind than mine, and more patience than I can muster.

I am tempted to guess that Nietzsche’s “seven solitudes” is a poetic construction, perhaps meant to evoke the supposed profundity and sublimity of certain Christian dogmas. Certainly, Nietzsche makes much of solitudes of various kinds, but I suspect he never intended—or, at any rate, produced—an enumeration of them. When I suggested in my original post that Baudelaire’s poem illustrated the sixth solitude, I was taking a bit more license than perhaps was warranted, but I wanted to suggest that there might be still deeper, more difficult and desperate solitudes one might endure. I have no basis for such a claim, as I myself have never endured even this “sixth” solitude (hence “I can only imagine”), and it is certainly not grounded in any careful reading of Nietzsche.

Sorry I can’t be more help. Good luck with your search! And, btw, I love Susie’s Moonstone Ring [requires Flash]. Stunning. Good stuff all around, really.