12.
I put aside a few sceptics, the types of decency in the history of
philosophy: the rest haven't the slightest conception of intellectual
integrity. They behave like women, all these great enthusiasts and
prodigies—they regard “beautiful feelings” as arguments,
the “heaving breast” as the bellows of divine inspiration,
conviction as the criterion of truth. In the end, with
“German” innocence, Kant tried to give a scientific flavour
to this form of corruption, this dearth of intellectual conscience, by
calling it “practical reason.” He deliberately invented a
variety of reasons for use on occasions when it was desirable not to
trouble with reason—that is, when morality, when the sublime command
“thou shalt,” was heard. When one recalls the fact that, among
all peoples, the philosopher is no more than a development from the old type
of priest, this inheritance from the priest, this fraud upon self,
ceases to be remarkable. When a man feels that he has a divine mission, say
to lift up, to save or to liberate mankind—when a man feels the divine
spark in his heart and believes that he is the mouthpiece of supernatural
imperatives—when such a mission inflames him, it is only natural that
he should stand beyond all merely reasonable standards of judgment. He feels
that he is himself sanctified by this mission, that he is himself a
type of a higher order! . . . What has a priest to do with philosophy! He
stands far above it!—And hitherto the priest has ruled!—He
has determined the meaning of “true” and “not true”! . . .
