Not only in individuals must such a depth of being, such a spiritual individuality be developed; but in every community, in every nation, in all mankind. Everywhere must a spiritual character be formed, and this spiritual character must inspire and permeate all action. Only thus can a spiritual atmosphere be created,—can a really civilised nation be differentiated from other nations; only thus, and not by means of outer victories and conquests, can any nation gain lasting significance for all humanity. So, for instance, Greek culture is a possession forever.
In all this, it is evident that in striving for morality, we are not seeking something alien, but rather our own essential being. Yet this being does not already exist in us, but has first to be acquired; it lies not behind us, but in front of us; we cannot take for granted a firm basis and positive continuity, which we see before us as high tasks and ideals. From the imperfect and incomplete life we generally lead, we must resolutely advance towards real and genuine life. While striving after morality, we are at the same time battling for our own spiritual self; we cannot but feel morality as a living inner presence, a source of strength and of joyous impulse to action. Thus understood, morality needs no reward from without; indeed, it sustains grave injury, if action is dominated by the thought of reward. For then the autonomy and independence which are above all aimed at, must be given up; and we force under an alien yoke that life which should be based on itself alone.
Such accentuation of autonomy in life and morality, might seem to exalt man unduly, and to inspire him with self-conscious pride. But we have already guarded ourselves against such misapprehension. We have seen that every undertaking possible to the individual lies within a sustaining and impelling movement of the whole. The recognition of morality is therefore not a matter of personal option or caprice. The life of the whole operates in the individual; but, on the other hand, his decision influences the whole of reality in the direction of progress or retrogression. In this way the conception of duty arises, in which the whole of life, the whole of the cosmic movement formulates a claim on us. Kant rightly pointed out that duty cannot come to us from without, but must proceed from our own being. This can only be the case if our being experiences an inner gradation. A spiritual world speaks within us, not as something alien, but in union with our own innermost being, as the depth of our own soul. The idea of duty is necessary in proportion to the consciousness and recognition of the difference between man as he is, and the inner world which corresponds to his innermost being. Wherever this consciousness grows dim, there morality speedily experiences an inner weakening. Duty is the salt of life. Where it is lacking, life, however brilliant externally, becomes inwardly tame and insipid, while on the other hand, duty can impart inner greatness and dignity to what appears small and insignificant. But as we do not wish the presence of salt to be everywhere perceptible, so also the idea of duty must not always force itself on our consciousness, but must be a latent power in our soul and life, lifting us above all that is arbitrary and capricious. We must take duty up into our inner being, and not place it there as something alien or hostile. Moral life can quite well unite earnestness and joy, reverence and love—earnestness and reverence towards the superior majesty of a higher power operative to us, joy and love arising from the mighty presence of this higher power within us.
Thus constituted, morality can fully acknowledge the various moral 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."