impulses at work in the present day; it can, at the same time, oppose
their disintegration, and help them as far as possible to promote each
others best interests. We have seen how, in our day, invisible and
visible impulses are in operation, which easily come into mutual
opposition. The morality of the spiritual life can in such cases
acknowledge both aspects, even if it cannot value them equally. For this
morality must take up a position in an invisible world, since the
progression from a visible to an invisible world goes through the whole
of the spiritual life. At the same time work in the visible world is
most important for man, if not indispensable. He is driven to it not
only by the necessity of natural self-preservation, but also by the real
interests of the invisible world. He does not find this invisible world
ready for him, or waiting to develop steadily from within, but he must
acquire and strengthen it by battling against the visible world and its
resistance. The spiritual movement is sure to become subjective and
uncertain, as soon as it severs all connection with the visible world,
in relation to which our work gains strength and confidence. Love,
strength, and continuity are thus acquired, which must then be
transformed into activity for our fellow-men. This applies both to
individuals and to all mankind. Such valuation of activity for the
visible world does not mean that we constitute life out of the visible
and the invisible as out of two factors of equal value, for wherever
spiritual life develops, the invisible is of paramount importance, and
everything else must be brought into relation with it. The visible is
valuable only as a means for the development or manifestation of the
invisible. But as such, it is of considerable value. Thus the morality
of the spiritual life is quite able to recognise--and to benefit by--the
great civilising work of the modern age and its untiring social
activity, even while insisting on their assimilation by a vaster
cohesion which is to vitalise them.
We shall see, later on, that the invisible world cannot hold its own
against doubts and obstacles, unless it is aided by religion. But
although the morality of the spiritual life must seek to be in close
touch with religion, it must do its best to counteract the dangers
arising from an exclusively religious system of ethics. Religious
morality in former times often directed man's endeavour too much towards
a world of faith and hope beyond our world, and was inclined to neglect
earthly matters as being of secondary importance. It often transferred
to human affairs the humility and pliability born of its relation to
God; and it consequently lacked strength and vigour when dealing with
the evils of human life. These perils can be counteracted by a morality
of the spiritual life, which sees the operation of the Divine Being
above all in man, even while acknowledging its superiority to man. Such
morality will urge man to seek and appropriate eternal values, not only
in a future state, but in this our earthly life. Such morality will
teach man not to accept the unreasonable conditions as he finds them,
but to struggle against them with all his might, striving to impart
reality to the reasonable and reason to reality.
The morality of reason and immanent idealism contains a virile strength
and educational power that the morality of the spiritual life is bound
to acknowledge. Yet spiritual morality must counteract certain
undesirable results frequently brought about by mere rational morality,
which is prone to overrate intellect and abstract ideas, to overvalue
the strength of the individual, and thus to encourage undue pride and
self-consciousness.
Thus great tasks are evident in all directions. From the standpoint of
the spiritual life it is possible to take them up hopefully, and to
counteract antitheses which would otherwise disintegrate human life. In
all these tasks, taken together, we see how life may be quickened and
strengthened by the ethics of the spiritual life. Everywhere it is
necessary to proceed beyond a given order of things,--to rise above
merely human aims and conditions,--to develop the consciousness of a
marvellous depth of reality, in which man is privileged to participate.
We discover a great cosmic movement, and we see our own greatness in our
co-operation in this movement, by which we contribute something to the
growth of the spiritual world. To speak with Leibnitz: "Man is not a
part, but an image of the divine, a presentation of the universe, a
denizen of the City of God."
V
MORALITY AND RELIGION
We have hitherto confined ourselves to the inner development of
morality, without considering the attitude of the world around us and
within us to those claims which morality, from its very nature, is bound
to assert. At all times, this question has presented grave
complications, which are magnified rather than diminished by the
philosophy of the spiritual life.
If morality is the first condition and an essential factor of all
independent spiritual life,--if this spiritual life is the central point
of reality, and dominates all its manifestations: then we might expect
to see, throughout the visible world, the triumph of good, the
repression of evil, and the rule of a moral order of things, moulding
reality to its requirements. Man's desire for such an order of things
does not rise from petty motives, but from an imperative desire for the
unquestioned supremacy of the good: what is in itself of such absolute
value, must be strong enough to enforce its dominion over reality,
otherwise it might come to be considered merely as a subjective
illusion.
The world, as we see it, does not come up to this requirement. It
evinces--as every impartial observer must acknowledge--absolute
indifference, not only to the weal and woe of man, but also to his moral
conduct. How often, in the destiny of nations as of individuals, does
good succumb and evil triumph! It may be that we often judge too
exclusively from external impressions, and that there is more justice in
the world than appears at first sight. But this is no more than a
possibility, and we cannot assert that it is in any way realised. Much
remains dark, and has not been explained away, in spite of the efforts
made by religion and philosophy during thousands of years. These
efforts have made the darkness less evident, but have not brought light
into it. We can deny neither the indifference of nature to our moral
action, nor the incapacity of man to enforce, in his own sphere, the
triumph and supremacy of the moral idea. And this gulf between what we
must demand and what we find in the world, receives further accentuation
by the recognition of an independent spiritual life closely allied to
morality. For the impotence of morality now appears as the impotence of
the whole spiritual life. At the same time, the human sphere seems to
lose all its own special significance, since it cannot enforce universal
recognition of the power to which it owes its privileged position.
Distressing as is this contradiction between the inner requirement and
external experience, it does not necessarily lead to a weakening of the
moral obligation. This is plainly shown by religion, more especially by
early Christianity. The early Christians were fully conscious of the
sorrow and gloom of human life; they realised the unreasonableness of
the world we live in, quite as fully as the pessimists of our day. Yet
their faith and courage remained unshaken. The contradiction of
experience only intensified their inner conviction, and gave it an
almost defiant superiority. This was only possible, because the
possession of a new life and the certainty of a new world made it easy
to bear all the contradictions in the existing order of things. From
their certainty of a new world, arose the conviction that the good could
only be impotent in a certain phase and for a certain time. The early
Christians were so sure of the ultimate triumph of good, that they found
strength to persevere in the battle of life.
The present time lacks this joyous certainty of a higher world and a new
life. Therefore the contradiction between the course of the world and
the requirements of morality, is felt in all its rigour, and doubt is
intensified by the unsatisfactory moral condition of human life, by the
inner weakness of morality in our day. Single individuals are not
without good intentions, but they lack the power of achievement.
Spiritual activity is generally treated as of secondary importance;
infinitely greater value is attached to the natural self-preservation of
individuals and of society. Life in the community ought to give greater
prominence to moral claims, and be governed as far as possible by moral
law. But on the one hand there is not enough power of volition, and on
the other hand there is, here also, a wide gulf between volition and
achievement. Social life also displays so much self-interest,
selfishness, and passion, so much unreality and hypocrisy, that morality
cannot reach any adequate development. The spiritual powers which should
raise man to a higher plane are mostly withdrawn into the service of the
lower plane, and life is thus diverted into wrong channels. This
contradiction between human conditions and the requirements of morality
has been expressed in various ways by the great thinkers. Plato
lamented, above all, the evanescence and unreality of everyday life;
Augustine the overweening conceit of man; Kant the insincerity and
injustice everywhere apparent. But to one and all, the moral condition
of mankind appeared most unsatisfactory.
All these contradictions, obstructions, and distortions are so
deep-rooted, that we can hardly expect any essential progress to result
from a gradual amelioration. In other directions--such as science and
technical knowledge--humanity may make steady progress; but it is not so
easy to prove that humanity will also experience moral improvement. The
progress of civilisation brings with it the development of much that is
good, but also of much that is evil, for civilisation develops great
power, without providing for its moral guidance. History shows us how
mankind has always seemed to alternate between periods of moral growth
and periods of moral decay; but it is doubtful whether, on the whole,
much has been gained. How often have the nations longed to return to
simpler and more innocent beginnings!
All these impressions might seem to prove that morality has no power in
the life of man. A doubt easily arises as to whether, if morality is so
powerless, we ought to acknowledge it as the guide of our life, or
whether we should not rather expel it as a mere illusion. But the
experience of history shows us unmistakably that the roots of morality
lie deeper, and are not so easily removed. Even if morality is not the
ruling power, it is unquestionably efficacious as man's lawgiver and
judge. Again and again, the nations may resist the claims of morality,
and the conceptions of morality itself may be widely divergent; yet
wherever human life develops, moral judgment develops with it. Certain
actions are highly esteemed, others are decidedly condemned. Something
operates in man which is not confined to his own interest, and which
forces him to judge his actions. Such judgment must inevitably
influence both the action and the spiritual condition of man; in one
direction it promotes, in another it represses.
History gives us an indirect proof of the power of morality over man.
There are times in the history of mankind when the moral idea, with its
decree of duty, recedes into the background, and is even scoffed at as
an irksome instrument of control. But such times, however brilliant on
the surface, cannot resist inner decay and hollowness, till at last they
become unendurable. Then, if there is a return to morality, it is
superior to, and triumphant over all other interests. It was moral
earnestness and moral strength that were above all instrumental in
causing early Christianity to overcome the pagan world that was, in all
outer respects, superior and more powerful. It was moral energy that
gave the Reformation its power to advance and conquer, while the soft
and beautiful Renaissance perished because it lacked morality. Look
where we will, we see that the moral task, if fully and clearly
grasped, is stronger than anything else.
It is therefore impossible for mankind to renounce morality. But we have
seen that morality, as a rule, has little power over external life or
man's soul, and is forced into a subordinate position. This produces
inner discord in human life. Man acquires inner insincerity by not
recognising and developing the depths of his own being. This inner
contradiction can be fully appreciated by a system of philosophy which
attaches special importance to the idea of the spiritual life. For in
the light of such philosophy, we see one great contradiction pervading
the whole of life: the spiritual activity--which ought to lead man to an
independent inner life, thus making his existence one of joyous creative
work--is used by average life as a mere means and instrument for human
ends. Spiritual activity is thus degraded, for the good has mostly to
give way to utilitarian considerations. This is the case, when the
motive of scientific research is its utility, and not a desire for
truth. This is the case, when art does not reveal a new world to man by
means of genuine beauty, but appeals only to his senses. This is the
case, whenever the subjective welfare of man--either of the individual
or of society--is the highest aim,--whenever man is not led to a higher
life by spiritual activity, but is only confirmed by it in the lower
life.
Such conflicts, such inner discord, such stagnation of life impel
morality to seek close contact with religion. We see that man has in
himself an ideal, on which depends all the greatness and dignity of his
life; but he cannot reach it unaided. Something strives to assert itself
within him, without his being able to accomplish it. He remains chained
to a lower level, above which his innermost soul longs to rise. Doubt
and uncertainty proceed from the fact that what is of the very highest
inner value should have so little power in the world and in the sphere
of human life. For deep and earnest natures as St. Augustine and as
Luther, such uncertainty has often become unbearable; from inner
conflicts was born the sure and triumphant conviction of a higher power
in the movement towards morality,--a power which not only imposes moral
obligations on man, but which, by the revelation of a new life, gives
him strength to fulfil them. Morality here appears as something
infinitely superior to the uncertainty of human conditions, and
completely independent of man's attitude towards it. If morality does
not attain the power due to it in man's life, this is now attributed to
the weakness, not of morality, but of man. The majesty of morality is by
no means prejudiced by man's line of conduct. Kant could therefore
declare that "it is most reprehensible to derive either the origin or
any restriction of the laws telling me what I should do, from that which
is done by others."
It is the essence of all deep religions, especially of Christianity,
that a new life is created in man by a revelation of the Divine by means
of a direct union of the soul with God. This new life is held to be
superior to the complexity of existing conditions, and is sure to
triumph, because it is founded in God. A source of life is thus opened
up, which imparts new activity to the life hitherto stagnant. Man
regains courage and confidence, because he feels himself sustained by
divine strength and love. No contradiction in the world of external
realities is now able to weaken man's inner certainty. A powerful
impulse towards work and creative activity will be born of the gladness
within him. This explains the unquestioning confidence and joyous energy
manifested by all the leaders of religious life; the consciousness of
their deliverance from dire distress filled them with unbounded
gratitude, which sought expression in unremitting work for their
fellow-men. Luther says: "From faith flow love and joy in the Lord, and
from love a free and joyous spirit of voluntary service of our
neighbour, quite irrespective of gratitude or ingratitude, praise or
blame, gain or loss."
Further development of life by means of religion is sure to stamp
morality with characteristic features. The consciousness of deliverance
by a higher power will arouse not only gratitude, but humility and
childlike confidence. If everything man has is but a gift, then he will
see, in his highest achievement, less his own work than that of God.
Gentleness and toleration will gain ground; arrogance and harshness will
disappear; all decisive action will have an inner rather than an outer
significance. The value of an action depends on loyalty to principle,
and not on the greatness of what is achieved. This is shown by Jesus in
the parable of the talents.
But this accentuation of softer elements and inner values by no means
paralyses activity. For the new life must be energetically developed and
bravely asserted against an alien, not to say a hostile, world. Man
finds a great task, first of all in his own soul, but then in the whole
of his life with other men. We may here apply a principle of the
Reformation, which has thus been expressed: "The word of God comes to
change and renew the world, whenever it comes." There is one thing on
which a philosophy of the spiritual life must emphatically insist: this
return to religion must not be confined to the individual, but must
embrace all the conditions of human life. Only thus can the whole of man
be won. This can only be done by creating a specific religious sphere of
life, a specific religious community. Many of us may wish the Church to
be, in certain respects, different to what it is; but that should not
make us ignore the necessity of a religious community. It is
indispensable, if we are to establish the new life in the human sphere,
and bring it within the reach of the individual; it is indispensable, if
the struggle is to be maintained by great entities, and is not to
degenerate into small skirmishes. At the present time, when the state is
engrossed by economic and other constantly changing problems of the day,
we need a community which attaches paramount importance to the inner
problems of humanity and which directs our life towards eternal aims and
values.
In this union with religion, morality will be inclined to see more gloom
than light in the life around us. For morality will then judge by higher
standards, and will emphasise the insufficiency of human achievement,
the unsatisfactory character of the present situation. But morality
cannot lead to despondency, once it is emancipated from the world of
immediate environment, and has gained a new world. Morality will then
see, in the world of strife and antithesis, only a special kind of
reality, and not the whole of reality; it will recognise in this world
only one act of a great drama, and not the whole drama.
Much that is dark thus remains unexplained. To speak with Goethe, we
"walk among mysteries." Even if we cannot enlighten what is dark, the
new beginnings established in us will save us from becoming cowed and
despondent. We are certain that great things are being accomplished in
us and through us,--that a higher power is present within us throughout
the struggles of our life. At the same time, we feel sure that our inner
renewal is not mechanical, but requires our own decision and action,
thus making us co-operate in the movement of the universe, and giving to
our activity a significance for the whole. That must and that can be
sufficient for us. We can agree with Luther, when he thus characterises
human life: "It is not yet done and accomplished, but it is in working
order and in full swing; it is not the end, but the way. All does not
yet glow and shine, but all is being burnished."
We know that so close a connection between morality and religion is
often contested nowadays. But we believe that religious morality can
only be attacked by those who have too low an estimate of morality or
too high an estimate of the actual condition of humanity. If morality is
but a means of tolerable order in the social community of life, and is
only looked upon as a controlling force, then it can dispense with
religion. But this means a lowering of the moral requirement, the
fulfilment of which brings but little gain or profit. It is possible, on
the other hand, to value morality more highly, but to over-estimate man,
as experience shows him to be. He is looked on as a good and noble
being, easily won for the highest aims. Were this a true conception of
man, then morality could attain its ends by its own strength alone. But
we are clearly shown that this is not the case, both by the conviction
of all great religious and philosophical teachers, and by the general
impression of human life. At all times, the pessimists--and not the
optimists--were held to have the best knowledge of human nature. We need
only consider more closely the delineation of human life left us by the
so-called optimistic philosophers (like Aristotle and Leibnitz), in
order to see that even they found in it much that was dark and gloomy.
If we maintain a high conception of the moral task and an impartial
conception of the actual condition of human life, there remains but one
dilemma: either complete hopelessness and inner collapse of life, or the
acquisition of further cohesions, such as that offered by an alliance
with religion. But religion must then mean more than a sum of doctrines
and institutions. It must influence the whole soul. It must not only
cling to the past, but must, above all, be a power in the living
present. It must not only be a source of comfort to individuals, but
must raise the whole of mankind to a higher and purer level. In all
these aspects, religion is both action and life, not mere thinking about
the world, or subjective emotion. A connection of morality with religion
thus understood, can be only a source of profit--not of loss--to
morality, which will thus be strengthened in its bearing on external
reality, and will experience a great deepening of its inner life.
VI
THE PRESENT STATUS OF MORALITY
We must now consider, in conclusion, the position of Morality in our
day. Let us see what profit and loss accrues to morality from the
present, and what its prospects are for the future. There can be no
doubt about the fact that great changes are being effected--changes not
only in the world of thought, but in the whole range of life and work.
These changes at first result in manifold losses to morality. The
pillars which used to support it began to totter, or gave way
altogether; new ones arose, but are as yet too weak to offer an adequate
substitute for what is lost. We cannot therefore look upon the present
status of morality as a satisfactory one.
The weakening of religious conviction and practice is unfavourable to
morality. Imperfect as the influence of religion often was on mankind at
large, and excessive as was the importance attached to the idea of
reward and punishment, men yet recognised a power superior to all human
action and all arbitrary human decision. This power was to be an object
of reverence; and life was raised above the care for purely material
possessions. It was also a gain for moral culture, that religion
established the inner solidarity of man, and facilitated mutual
understanding. Thus it is a loss for morality, that religion no longer
maintains its former ruling position.
The general condition of our intellectual life is unfavourable to
morality, inasmuch as this intellectual life lacks a uniform aim which
could unite scattered aspirations, strengthen every single undertaking,
and counteract, as a whole, the interests of mere individuals. These
interests at all times made themselves felt, and life was always in
danger of being dominated by petty human considerations. But the
difference between period and period depends on whether or not this
danger is counteracted and man is raised above himself by some high aim.
In our day, such counteraction is lacking. Where have we an aim
embracing the whole man, which is common to us all and binds us together
to inner communion? Every party and faction preaches some ideal of its
own, the attainment of which will, it believes, unite men, making them
good and happy. But these individual aims are very different in
character; they are a cause of mutual hindrance, and they divide mankind
in that which should be a means of union.
Another disadvantage for inner culture is the rapid pace of life, as
compared to former times. While we are hastening from moment to moment,
we have neither repose nor leisure for the culture of our inner man, for
the development of a character, a personality. We are more and more in
danger of being absorbed by the whirlpool of life, and robbed of all
possibility of self-conscious action. Other perils also beset us. In
our thirst for achievement and success, our moral judgment is often
repressed; the accentuation of the battle of life can even make us
indifferent to the moral quality of the ways and means employed by us.
All this necessarily weakens morality, and makes it appear unimportant
and shadowy.