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.