VI The Present Status of Morality
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.
To these dangers arising from the general conduct of life, we must add others, which originate in the modern development of work in the community. In former times, the conditions of life were at once narrower and less subject to change. Social environment exercised a stricter and more exclusive control over the individual, holding him within the bounds of law and custom. This influence was often only an external one; correct behaviour was frequently mistaken for moral integrity. This gave rise to much unreality and pharisaical hypocrisy. Still, a certain result was attained in the direction of moral culture; certain restraints were acknowledged, which cannot, without impunity, be dispensed with. Restraints play an important part in the life of the soul, as well as in that of the body. Modern freedom of action makes the individual depend on himself alone, and we must be very optimistic to believe him able to completely withstand, unaided, all the temptations of life.
We cannot omit one characteristic modern development: the change of men's mutual relation from a personal to an impersonal one. We have but to think of the difference between the cordial community of life established by the old arts and crafts, and the cool, almost hostile manner in which, in our great labour complexes, "employers" and "employees" nowadays associate. There is no longer the slightest personal relation or personal sympathy between them.
If we survey all these losses, the balance of the day will hardly appear to be in favour of morality. But we must not forget that the present age has also supplied morality with new and valuable impulses. This is above all the case with labour—the modern form of work to which we have just alluded. There is a strong moral element in the ever increasing formation and organisation of great labour complexes, not only in the factory, but also in science, state organisation, education, and so forth. The individual is thereby obliged to work in close union with others, and in accordance with objective requirements. He must adapt his own activity to the general character of the work; and yet he must do his own part conscientiously, so that the mass of separate achievements may blend harmoniously and ensure the steady progress of the whole. This requires such loyalty, self-control, and sacrifice of personal taste and opinion, that a strong moral effect is undeniable. In this respect, man now learns more implicit obedience than at any former period. Another moral element in modern labour is the concentration of man's whole strength on his work, to the exclusion of all inert repose.
If the impersonal element predominates in work, the social side of modern life offers, on the other hand, more direct union and more reciprocal action between man and man. This was, at first, mainly theoretical. It was pointed out how much one man depends on his fellow-men. People realised that the individual develops with other individuals and as part of the community, with which his aspirations are indissolubly connected, even when he imagines he is striking out a path for himself. But such theories could only have so much influence, because they were in harmony with the realities of life. Modern life, with its technical developments, brought individuals into close touch and created new opportunities of mutual intercourse, uniting men both in success and in failure. Thus grew up the consciousness of human solidarity, the recognition of men's interdependence, the idea of mutual obligation. The result is a wealth of humane activity, which penetrates into all the ramifications of life, attacking and seeking to eradicate all forms of want and misery, instead of merely helping to relieve individual cases. We encounter the earnest endeavour to impart material and spiritual possessions, as far as possible, to all men; to help and strengthen the less favoured section of humanity; to further the interests of aspiring spirits. These efforts are but various aspects of one great duty, which we feel we cannot ignore; we can no longer look upon them as works of mercy, which it is a virtue to perform. This is at the root of the social idea. And this social idea is, in our day, the greatest bond of union between human beings; not only does it stir individuals, but it also exercises a strong influence on law, education, and so forth. In this respect our time has a right to claim undoubted superiority over all former times.
These moral achievements of the present, valuable as they are, yet have their inner limitations. Nearly all movement here proceeds outward, and is directed towards distinct single achievements, while the culture and welfare of the inner man are mostly treated as of secondary importance. Zeal for surface ends leads to the neglect of the central values of life. Yet all outer achievement only means real gain for us, if it promotes the growth of the whole man, of his soul, of his personality, making him nobler, greater, and happier. If there is no development and strengthening of the centre of life, achievement on the surface is apt to result in grave complications, and all that is great in the present may thereby be driven into the wrong channels. Another danger grows out of the ever increasing tendency to organise work. Owing to the necessity of specialising and differentiating, the amount of work is restricted which the individual can comprehend and master. He is tempted to concentrate his interest on his own little province, to be indifferent to everything outside it, and to lose all consciousness of a leading idea and of a great whole. He thus falls a prey to the narrow conceit of the specialist, and finally pushes aside as worthless accessories all matters of general interest, all the questions and sorrows of humanity at large.
By furthering a spirit of pity for human want and misery, without giving to life an inner value and a higher aim, we are in danger of becoming sentimental and of producing inner languor in spite of all outer activity. We are often more anxious to procure for man a comfortable and pleasant life, than to promote inner growth; and our care for the weak, which is quite justified, leads us to take such weak individuals as a criterion and to lower life to their level.
Modern life often lacks the necessary hardness and vigour; in our care for the rights of individuals, we are inclined to neglect the rights and requirements of the whole and also of the spiritual life. So we are in danger of losing that which according to Goethe, "No one brings with him into the world, yet which is all important if a man is to become a man in every respect: reverence."
If we review the whole and consider the balance of moral profit and loss in our day, the result cannot be a favourable one. No full substitute is offered for what is lost. We have gained in breadth, but we have lost in depth and strength. Above all, morality is in danger of losing its former ruling position, and of having a subordinate one assigned to it. It can therefore no longer call forth reverence, or be treated as an independent aim and ideal. We realise at once the gravity of this loss.
But this unfavourable aspect only holds good, if we consider the present time as something complete and incapable of further development. If, on the contrary, we seek to grasp all that is struggling into life, all the requirements of our time that yet await fulfilment: then the situation is quite different and far more favourable. What mainly told against morality was the prevalent over-estimation of everything pertaining to the visible life which surrounds us in nature and in human society. The invisible realms of religion and the ideal have, as we have seen, often grown dim and shadowy. Many of our contemporaries deny them altogether, and look to the visible world for full satisfaction of all man's wants, even of his spiritual and intellectual requirements. This could only appear possible because, in reality, the invisible world of spiritual values continued to influence even those who denied it, and because it supplemented and completed the achievements of the visible world. It is, however, characteristic of our time, that the old fusion is no longer possible, and the irreconcilable antithesis between these two conceptions of life stands out in bold relief. With increasing zeal, the movement in favour of the visible world—that is to say, Naturalism—tries to eradicate everything appertaining to the invisible world, and to fashion the whole of life in accordance with its own principles. Naturalism tolerates no rival, and declares war to the death to Idealism.
We now see the truth of Bacon's words: "Veritas potius emergit ex errore quam ex confusione" (Truth can more easily emerge from error than from confusion). For if we accept naturalism as the only valid conception of life, and develop it consistently in all its bearings, we cannot but see its incapacity to embrace the whole of life. The apparent victory of naturalism thus contains the germ of a defeat, the beginning of a great reaction. What becomes of man and of human life, if the visible world means to him the only form of reality? He is then but part of nature—dark and soulless nature. The vast expansion and range of nature overwhelms him with the consciousness of his own insignificance, while, at the same time, nature is absolutely indifferent to his wishes and aspirations. What he makes of himself and his life has not the very slightest significance for this world of nature. All aspiration which transcends his natural instinct of self-preservation must appear to be mere folly. Such ideals as personality and character are but held to be illusions.
If man turns away from the outer world and takes refuge in his own sphere, in the social life among his fellows, naturalism there shows him a mere juxtaposition, but no inner community which could offer new aims or develop new values. What remains is only a number of individuals inhabiting the same little corner of the universe. Each of these individuals strives to gain recognition of his own merits, and to assert himself, to the detriment of others. Much sordidness and hypocrisy become rampant, and it is impossible to counteract them within so narrow a range, or to hope for the growing up of a nobler and purer race of men. The individual remains bound to the condition of society, which also determines his own nature; he appears to be but a product of the social environment. Having no deeper source of life within himself, how should he be able to escape from the trammels of society, to rise above it or oppose it? Society and environment thus become the destiny of man; and there is no scope for freedom, for initiative, for independent action.
If we survey and appreciate all this with unbiassed minds, this life must appear empty and meaningless and scarcely worth living. At the same time, we shall discern a development of mankind far transcending these narrow limits, as indeed has already been pointed out in this our study of morality. The degradation of life effected by naturalism might be endured in feeble and senile periods conscious of no great tasks, but not in our time, which teems with stupendous tasks it is earnestly striving to carry out. These great tasks and problems can only be grappled with, if we are fully conscious of concentrated energy and increased spiritual power. Modern life has developed in various and opposite directions. Its expansion is greater than its concentration, and this threatens it with disintegration. There is an increasing and imperative need of more unity and cohesion, of some universal and harmonious character of the whole. How should this be attained without a vigorous deepening of life, without the development of invisible values? We observe, in our day, the encounter of an older and a newer age, of a conception of life hallowed by the traditions of history, and a new one that is struggling into existence; there is a sharp conflict between the past and the present. We cannot but admit in the old an imperishable germ of truth, and in the new, an inalienable right to impress and influence us. We must prove and sift, separate and unite. But how were any progress in this direction possible, could we not find a superior point of view, such as can be offered only by a world of thought, not by the visible life? This problem gains vastly in significance by extending to the social life of all humanity. We see here a struggle between an older, more aristocratic form of society, and a newer, more democratic one. This struggle engenders violent passions, especially in the province of economics. We are here placed before a grave question: shall we be able to impart the benefits of civilisation to all men alike, and thus broaden every individual soul, without injury to its inner depths?
These are problems which do not originate in ourselves, but which are forced upon us by the movement of history. Their very necessity bids us hope for progression, in spite of all impediments. The power which has imposed these problems on us will enable us to solve them. But we shall also need to put forth our uttermost strength, and to quicken all our latent spiritual forces; we must grasp our life as a whole, must acknowledge its high aims with all our heart and soul, and must find our real self in these ideals. Only thus can we gain the sense of inner necessity which alone can lead us onward.
In this manner, our aspiration becomes closely linked to morality. Let us see wherein we have already recognised the quintessence of morality. Life and aspiration are detached from the little Ego, and take root in a spiritual world in which we find our own essential being, so that while working for this spiritual world, we are at the same time working for our own depth and spiritual self-preservation. Such a change and reaction, such identification with the movement of the spiritual life, means only that our aspiration has gained a moral character. This moral character brings us, at all points, into touch with our time. By means of our own aspiration, we can now grasp, unite, and deepen all the goodwill, genuine feeling, and untiring activity of our day, which was hitherto inadequate only because it lacked inner unity and quickening spiritual power.
We can thus face the future with courage and confidence. Humanity has by no means exhausted its vital power; it is full of new possibilities which demand realisation; and therefore we may expect an inner progression of life and a rejuvenation of morality.
What is true of mankind in general, is especially true of America. The multitude of grave problems cannot discourage a nation which feels in itself so much youthful vigour, that it will not submit to a dark fate, but is able and ready to mould its own fate, and to aspire to yet greater heights than it has hitherto attained. But to achieve this, moral force is as necessary as unshaken confidence in the power of the spirit. We believe in a bright future for this great country. We believe also in the development in America of such moral strength as will successfully overcome all conflicts and lead to splendid results, for the benefit not only of the American nation, but of all mankind.
THE END