I
We
have to consider in these coming
days one of the most important and significant fields of our
Anthroposophical study of life. We are often reproached for our
inclination towards the study of far-distant cosmic developments in
their connection with man; it is said that we like to lift ourselves
into spiritual worlds, too frequently only considering the
far-distant events of the past and the far-reaching perspective of
the future, and that we disregard a sphere which concerns man most
intimately — the sphere of human morals and human
ethics.
It
is true that this, the realm of human morals, must
be looked upon as the most essential of all. But what must be said in
answer to the reproach that we are less concerned with this important
field of man's soul-life and social life than with more distant
spheres, is that when we realise the significance and range of
anthroposophical life and feeling we are only able to approach this
subject with the deepest reverence, for it concerns man very closely
indeed; and we realise that, if it is to be considered in the
right way, it requires the most earnest and serious preparation. The
above reproach might perhaps be stated in the following words: What
is the use of making deep studies of the universe? Why talk about
numerous reincarnations, or the complicated conditions of karma, when
surely the most important thing in life is what a certain wise man
after he had attained the summit of this life, and when after a life
of rich wisdom he had grown so weak and ill that he had to be carried
about, repeated again and again to his followers: “Children,
love one another!”
These
words were uttered by John the Evangelist when
he was an old man, and it has often been said that in these four
words, “Children, love one another!” is contained the
extract of the deepest and most practical moral wisdom. Hence many
might say: “What more is wanted, provided these good, sublime
and moral ideals can be so simply fulfilled as in the sense of the
words of the Evangelist John?”
When to the
above statement one adds that it is sufficient for people to know
that they ought to love one another, one thing is lost sight of,
namely, the circumstance that he who uttered these words did so at
the close of a long life of wisdom, a life which included the writing
of the most profound and important of the Gospels. A man is only
justified in saying anything so simple at the end of a rich life of
wisdom. But one who is not in that position must first, by going
deeply into the foundations of the secrets of the world, earn
the right to utter the highest moral truths in such a simple
manner.
Trivial as is
the oft-repeated assertion, “If the same thing is said by two
persons it never is the same,” it is especially applicable to
the words we have quoted. When someone who simply declines to know or
understand anything about the mysteries of the Cosmos says: “It
is quite a simple matter to describe the highest moral life,”
and uses the words: “Children, love one another,” it is
quite different from when the evangelist John utters these words, at
the close of such a rich life of wisdom. For this reason, he who
understands these words of St. John ought to draw from them quite a
different conclusion from that usually drawn. The conclusion
should be that one has first of all to be silent about such
profoundly significant words, and that they may only be uttered when
one has gone through the necessary preparation and reached the
necessary maturity.
Now
after we have made this statement — which it
is quite certain many will take earnestly to heart —
something quite different, which is of the deepest importance will
come to our mind. Someone might say: “It may be the case that
the deep significance of moral principles can only be understood when
the goal of all wisdom is reached, man uses them, nevertheless, all
the time. How could some moral community or social work be carried on
if one had to wait for a knowledge of the highest moral principles
till the end of a life of striving for wisdom? Morals are most
necessary for human social life; and now it is asserted that moral
principles can only be obtained at the end of long striving after
wisdom.” A person might therefore reasonably say that he would
doubt the wise arrangement of the world if this were so; if that
which is most necessary could only be gained after the goal of human
effort had been attained.
Life
itself gives us, the true answer to what has just
been said. You need only compare two facts which, in one form or
another, are no doubt well known to you and you will at once perceive
that the one can be right as well as the other; firstly, that we
attain to the, highest moral principles and their understanding only
at the conclusion of the effort after wisdom, and secondly, that
moral and social communities and activities cannot exist without
ethics or morals. You see this at once if you bear in mind two facts
with which you are most certainly acquainted in one form or another.
You may have known a man who was highly developed intellectually, he
may have possessed not only a clear intellectual grasp of natural
science, but he may also have understood many occult and spiritual
truths both theoretically and practically and yet you may have known
that such a person was not particularly moral. Who has not seen
people clever and highly intellectual, going morally astray? And who
has not also experienced the other fact, from which much may be
learned! You, doubtless have known someone with a very restricted
outlook, with limited intellect and knowing but little, who being in
service brought up not her own but other people's children. From
their earliest days she has probably assisted with their education
and development and perhaps to the day of her death sacrificed to
these children all she had in a selfless loving way and with the
utmost devotion; yet if one had brought to her the moral principles
that one had gained from the highest sources of wisdom, she would
not, in all probability, have been particularly interested; she
would probably have found them useless and incomprehensible. On the
other hand her moral actions had accomplished more than mere
recognition of moral principles. In such cases we feel that we must
bow in reverence before that which streams out of the heart into life
and creates an infinite amount of good.
Facts
of such a nature often answer the riddles of
life far more clearly than theoretical explanations, for we say to
ourselves that a wise Providence, in order to impart to the world
moral actions, moral activities, has not waited until people have
discovered moral principles. There is in fact, to begin with
— if we disregard unmoral actions, the basis of which we shall
get to know in these lectures — something contained in the
human soul as a divine heritage, something given to us as original
morality which may be called “instinctive morality” and
it is this which makes it possible for humanity to wait until it can
fathom moral principles.
But perhaps
it is quite unnecessary to trouble much about investigating moral
principles! Might it not be said that it is best if people trust to
their original moral instincts and do not perplex themselves with
theoretical explanations about morals? These lectures are to show
that this is not the case. They are to show that, at least in the
present epoch of humanity, we must seek for anthroposophical morals
and that these morals must be exercised as a duty which comes as the
fruit of all our anthroposophical science and
practice.
The
philosopher, Schopenhauer, in spite of much that is entirely
erroneous in his philosophy, made this very true statement regarding
the principles of morality. “To preach morals is easy, but to
give them a foundation is difficult.” This statement is very
true, for there is scarcely anything easier than to pronounce in a
manner appealing to the commonest principles of human feeling
and perception, what a person ought to do or leave undone in order
that he may be a good man. Many people no doubt are offended when it
is asserted that this is easy, but it is easy, and one who knows
life, and knows the world, will not doubt that scarcely
anything has been spoken about so much as the right principles
of ethical action, and the man who speaks upon general ethical
principles meets with almost universal approval. One might say it
pleases listening minds, for they feel they can agree in an
unqualified manner with what the speaker says when he discourses on
the very commonest principles of human morality.
Notwithstanding
this, morals are certainly not
established by ethical teachings or moral sermons. Truly not. If
morals could thus be founded there would be no immorality at the
present day, for one might say that the whole of humanity would be
overflowing with moral activities. For undoubtedly everyone has the
opportunity of hearing the finest moral principles, since people are
so fond of preaching them. But to know what one ought to do and
what is morally right is of least importance compared with the fact
that there should be within us impulses which, through their inward
strength, their inward power, are themselves converted into moral
actions, and thus express themselves externally. It is well known
that ethical sermons do not produce this result. A moral foundation
is laid when a man is guided to the source whence he must draw the
impulses which shall supply him with forces leading to ethical
activity.
How
difficult these forces are to find, is shown by
the simple fact that innumerable attempts have been made, for
example, from the philosophic side, to found a system of ethics, a
code of morals. How many different answers exist in the world to the
questions: “What is goodness?” —— “What
is virtue?” Put together what the philosophers have said,
beginning with Plato and Aristotle, and passing on through the
Epicureans, the Stoics, the NeoPlatonists, the whole series
down to modern philosophical opinions; put together all that
has been said from Plato to Herbert Spencer upon the nature of
Goodness and Virtue and you will see how many different attempts have
been made to penetrate to the sources of moral life and
impulse.
I hope in
these lectures to show that it is only by delving into the occult
secrets of life that it becomes possible, to penetrate not only to
moral teachings, but to moral impulses, to the moral sources of life
itself.
A
single glance will show us that this moral principle
in the world is by no means such a simple matter as might be supposed
from a certain convenient standpoint. Let us for the moment
take no notice of what is usually spoken of as “moral,”
but consider certain spheres of human life from which we may perhaps
be able to obtain a great deal towards a moral conception of
life.
Not the least
among the many things learned from spiritual science is the knowledge
that most manifold conceptions and impulses have held good among
various peoples in different parts of the earth. In comparing two
sections of humanity which at first seem separated, one can consider
the sacred life of ancient India, and observe how it has gradually
developed up to the present day. One knows that what was
characteristic of the India of primeval times is still true at the
present day. The feelings, the thoughts and conceptions have
been maintained that we find in this region in ancient times. It is
remarkable that in these civilisations there have been preserved an
image of primeval times, and when we consider what has been
maintained up to our own day we are looking, so to say, at the same
time into the remote past.
Now
we do not progress very far in our
understanding of the different peoples on earth if we begin by
only applying our own moral standards. For this reason let us for the
moment exclude what might be said about the moral things of those
times and only inquire: What has developed from these characteristics
of venerable ancient Indian civilisation?
We find, to
begin with, what may be described as “devotion to the
spiritual,” most highly honoured and held sacred. This devotion
to the spiritual was the more highly valued and counted sacred, the
more the human being was able to, sink into himself, to live
quietly within himself, and, apart from all that man can attain on
the physical plane — to direct the best in him to the spiritual
worlds. We find this cultivation, this dedication of the soul to the
foundations of existence as the highest duty of those who belonged or
belong to the highest caste of Indian life, the Brahmins.
Nothing
impresses the moral feelings of the Indian
people more than this turning to the Divine-Spiritual with a devotion
which forgets everything physical; an intensely deep introspection
and renunciation of self. The moral life of this people is
permeated by a devotion which controls every thought and action. This
is apparent from the fact that those who belonged to other castes
looked upon it as natural, especially in ancient times, that the
caste of religious life and devotion and the life of ritual should be
considered as something apart and worthy of reverence. That which
underlies this cannot be understood by means of the common principles
of morality laid down by philosophy, for at the period when these
feelings and impulses developed in ancient India they were impossible
among other peoples. In order that these tendencies could develop
with such intensity both the temperament and fundamental
character of the Indian people were required. As civilisation
proceeded, emanating from India they spread abroad over the rest of
the earth. If we wish to understand what is meant by the
Divine-Spiritual we must go to this original source.
Let us now
turn our attention away from this people and direct it towards
Europe. Let us consider the peoples of Europe before Christianity had
affected European culture very much, when it had only begun to spread
in the West. You all know that Christianity spreading into Europe
from the East and South was confronted by the peoples of Europe,
who possessed certain tendencies, a definite inner worth and definite
forces. One who studies with spiritual means the history of the
introduction of Christianity into Central Europe and also here in the
North, knows at what cost the balance was struck between this or that
Christian impulse and what was brought to meet it from Northern and
Central Europe.
And now let
us inquire — as we have already done in the case of the Indian
people — “What were the most characteristic moral forces
brought to Christianity as a moral possession, a moral heritage, by
the peoples whose successors form the present European population,
especially the population of the North, Central Europe and
England?” We need only mention a single one of the principal
virtues, and we know at once that we are expressing something which
is truly characteristic of these Northern and Mid-European
peoples.—With the word “valour,” or
“bravery,” we have named the chief virtue brought by the
Europeans to Christianity; and the whole of the personal human
force was exercised in order to actualise in the physical world what
the human being intends from his innermost impulse. Intrinsically the
further we go back to ancient times the more we find this to be
the case — the other virtues are consequent upon this.
If
we examine real valour in its fundamental quality,
we find that it consists of an inner fullness of life which is
practically inexhaustible, and this fullness of life was the most
salient characteristic among the ancient peoples of Europe. Ancient
Europeans possessed within them more valour than they could use for
themselves. Quite instinctively, they followed the impulse to spend
that of which they had a superabundance. One might even say that they
were wasteful in pouring out their moral wealth, their fitness, and
ability into the physical world. It was really as if among the
ancient people of Northern Europe each one had brought with him a
superfluity of force which was more than he needed for his own personal
use; this he was therefore able to pour forth in an excess of prodigality
and to use it for his warlike deeds. Modern ideas now consider these
self-same warlike deeds, which were the outcome of ancient virtue, to be
a relic of the past, and in fact they are classed as vices; but the man
of ancient Europe used them in a chivalrous, magnanimous manner. Generous
actions were characteristic of the peoples of ancient Europe, just
as actions springing from devotion were characteristic of the
people of ancient India.
Principles,
theoretical moral axioms, would have been
useless to the peoples of ancient Europe, for they would have evinced
little understanding for them. Preaching moral sermons to a man of
ancient Europe would have been like giving one who does
not like reckoning, the advice that he ought to write down his
receipts and expenditures with great accuracy. If he does not like
this, the simple fact remains that he need not keep accounts, for he
possesses enough for his expenditure, and can do without careful
book-keeping if he has an inexhaustible supply. This circumstance
is not unimportant. Theoretically it holds good with regard to what
the human being considers of value in life, regarding personal energy
and ability, and it also applies to the moral feelings of the inhabitants
of ancient Europe. Each one had brought with him a divine legacy, as it
were; he felt himself to be full of it, and spent it in the service
of his family, his clan or his people. That was their mode of active
trading and working.
We have now
characterised two great sections of humanity which, were quite
different from one another, for the feeling of contemplation natural
to the Indians did not exist among Europeans. For, this reason it was
difficult for Christianity to bring a feeling of devotion to the
latter people, for their character and predispositions were entirely
different. And now after considering these things — putting
aside all the objections which might be raised from the standpoint of
a moral concept — let us enquire into the moral effect.
It does not require much reflection to know that this moral effect
was extremely great when these two ways of looking at the world,
these two trends of feeling met in their purest form. The world has
gained infinitely much by that which could only be obtained through
the existence of a people like the ancient Indians, among whom all
feeling was directed to devotion to the Highest. Infinitely much it
has also gained from the valiant deeds, of the European peoples of
early pre-Christian times. Both these qualities had to co-operate,
and together they yielded a certain moral effect. We shall see how
the effect of the ancient Indian virtue as well as that of the
ancient Germanic peoples can still be found to-day; how it has
benefited not only a part but the whole of humanity, and we shall see
how it still exists in all that men look up to as the
highest.
So without
further discussion, we may assert that something which produces this
moral effect for humanity is good. Doubtless, in both streams of
civilisation it must be so. But if, we were to ask: what is
“goodness”? we are confronted once more by a puzzling
question. What is the “good” which has been active in
each of these cases? I do not wish to give you moral sermons, for
this I do not consider my task. It is much more my task to bring
before you the facts which lead us to an anthroposophical
morality. For this reason I have thus far brought before you two
systems of known facts, concerning which I ask nothing except that
you should note that the fact of devotion and the fact of bravery
produce definite moral effects in the evolution of humanity.
Let us now turn our attention to other ages. If you look at the life
of the present day with its moral impulses you will naturally say:
“We cannot practise to-day — at least not in Europe
— what the purest ideal of India demands, for European
civilisation cannot be carried on with Indian
devotionalism”; but just as little would it be possible to
attain to our present civilisation, with the ancient praiseworthy
valour of the people of Europe. It at once becomes evident that deep
in the innermost part of the ethical, feelings of the European
peoples there is something else. We must therefore search out that
something more in order to be able to answer the question: What is
goodness? What is virtue?
I have often
pointed out that we have to distinguish between the period we
call the Graeco-Latin or fourth post-Atlantean age of civilisation
and the one we call the fifth, in which we live at the present time.
What I have now to say regarding the nature of morality is really
intended to characterise the origin of the fifth post-Atlantean age.
Let us begin with something which, as it is taken from poetry
and legend you may consider open to dispute; but still it is
significant of the way in which fresh moral impulses became active
and how they flowed into mankind when the development of the fifth
age gradually set in.
There
was a poet who lived at the end of the 12th
century and beginning of 13th century. He died in the year 1213, and
was called Hartmann von Aue. He wrote his most important poem,
entitled “Poor Henry,” in accordance with the way of
thinking and feeling prevalent in his day. This poem particularly
addresses what was thought about certain moral impulses among certain
peoples in certain circles. Its substance is as follows: — Poor
Henry once lived as a rich knight — for originally he was not
poor Henry but a duly installed knight — who did not take into
account that the things of the physical world decay and are temporary;
he lived only for the day and thereby rapidly produced bad karma. He
was thus stricken with a form of leprosy; he went to the most celebrated
physicians in the world but none of them could help him, so considering
his life at an end he sold all his worldly possessions; His disease
preventing intercourse with his fellows he lived apart on a solitary
farm, well taken care of by an old devoted servant and daughter.
One day the daughter and the whole household heard that one thing
alone could help the knight who had this destiny. No physician, no
medicines could help him, only when a pure virgin out of pure love
sacrificed her life for him would his health be restored. In spite of
all the exhortations of her parents and of the knight Henry himself,
something came over the daughter which made her feel that it was
imperative she should sacrifice herself. She went with the knight to
Salerno, the most celebrated school of medicine of the day. She did
not fear what the physicians required of her; she was ready to
sacrifice her life. But at the last moment the knight refused to
allow it, he prevented it and returned home with her. The poem then
tells us that when the knight returned home, he actually began to
recover and that he lived for a long time and spent a happy old age
with the one who had determined to save him.
Well, to
begin with, you may say that this is a poem, and we need not take
literally the things here spoken of. But the matter becomes different
when we compare what Hartmann von Aue, the poet of the Middle Ages,
wrote at that time in his Poor Henry" with something that really
happened, as is well known. We may compare what Hartmann wrote with
the life of Francis of Assisi, who was born in the year 1182 and
lived in Italy.
In order to
describe, the moral nature contained in the personality of Francis of
Assisi, let us consider the matter as it appears to the
spiritual investigator or occultist, even though we may be
looked upon as foolish and superstitious. These things must be taken
seriously, because at that period of transition they were producing
such momentous effects.
We
know that Francis of Assisi was the son of the
Italian merchant Bernardone, and his wife. Bernardone travelled a
great deal in France, where he carried on his business. We also know
that the father of Francis of Assisi was a man who set great store on
outer appearances. His mother was a woman possessing the virtue of
piety, having fine qualities of heart, and living devoutly according
to her religious feelings. Now the things recounted in the form of
legends about the birth and life of Francis of Assisi are entirely in
agreement with occult facts. Although occult facts are frequently
hidden by history in pictures and legends, these legends still
correspond with them. Thus it is quite true that before the birth of
Francis of Assisi quite a number of persons knew through revelation
that an important personality was about to be born. Historical
records show that one of the many people who dreamt — that is,
who saw in prophetic vision — that an important
personality was about to be born, was Saint Hildegarde. At this point
I must emphasise once more the truth of these facts, which can be
corroborated by investigations into the Akashic Record. She dreamt
that there appeared to her a woman whose face was smeared and covered
with blood, and this woman said to her: "The birds have their nests
here upon earth, the foxes too have their holes, but at the present
time I have nothing, not even a stick upon which I can lean." When
Hildegarde awakened from this dream, she knew this personality
represented the true form of Christianity. And many other
persons dreamt in a similar manner. From the knowledge at their
disposal they saw that the outer order and institution of the church
was unfitted to be a receptacle, a covering, for the true
Christianity.
One day,
while Francis of Assisi's father was on business in France —
this, again, is a fact — a pilgrim went to Pica's house, to the
mother of Francis of Assisi, and said to her: “The child you
are expecting must not be brought into the world in this house, where
there is abundance; you must bring him to birth in the stable, for he
must lie upon straw and so follow after his Master!” This was
actually said to the mother of Francis of Assisi; and it is not
legend but truth that as the father was in France on business the
mother was able to carry this out, so that the birth of Francis of
Assisi actually took place in a stable and upon straw.
Another thing
is also true: Some time after the child was born a remarkable man
came into the little town, a man who had never been seen in that
neighbourhood before and was never seen there again. He went through
the streets again and again saying "An important person has been born
in this town." And those whose visionary life was still active also
heard the ringing of bells at the time of the birth of Francis of
Assisi.
Besides these
few details a whole series of phenomena might be adduced, but
we shall content ourselves with the above, which are only
mentioned in order to show how significantly everything was
concentrated from the spiritual world, regarding the advent of a
single personality in that age.
All
this becomes especially interesting when in
addition we consider something else. The mother had the peculiar
impression that the child ought to be called “John” and
he was therefore given this name. However, when the father returned
from France where he had done good business, he changed it and gave
his son the name of Francis, as he wished to commemorate his
successful journey. But originally the child was called
John.
Now we need
only draw attention to a few details from the life of this,
remarkable man, especially from his youth. What sort of a person was
Francis of Assisi as a youth? He was one who conducted himself like a
descendant of the old Germanic knights, and this need not appear
remarkable when we consider how peoples had intermingled after the
immigrations from the North. Brave, warlike, filled with the ideal of
winning honour and fame with the weapons of war; it was this which
existed as a heritage, as a racial characteristic in the
personality of Francis of Assisi.
There
appeared in him more externally, one might say,
the qualities which existed more as an inward quality of soul in the
ancient Germans, for Francis of Assisi was a
“spendthrift.” He squandered the possessions of his
father, who was at that time a rich man. He gave freely to all his
comrades and playfellows. No wonder that on all the childish
warlike expeditions he was chosen as leader by his comrades, and that
he was looked upon as a truly warlike boy, for he was known as such
throughout the whole town. Now there were all sorts of quarrels
between the youths of the towns of Assisi and Perugia; he also took
part in these and it came about that on one occasion he and his
comrades were taken prisoners. He not only bore his captivity
patiently and in a knightly way, but he encouraged all the others to
do the same until a year later they were able to return
home.
Afterwards,
when in the service of chivalry, a
necessary expedition was going to be undertaken against Naples, he
had a vision in a dream. He saw a great palace and everywhere weapons
and shields. Up to the time of his dream he had only seen all kinds
of cloth in his father's house and place of business. So he said to
himself, this is a summons for me to become a soldier, and he
thereupon decided to join the expedition. On the way there and still
more distinctly after he had joined the expedition, he had spiritual
impressions. He heard something like a voice which said “Go no
further, you have wrongly interpreted the dream picture which is very
important to you. Go back to Assisi and you shall there hear the
right interpretation!”
He
obeyed these words, went back to Assisi, and
behold, he had something like an inner dialogue with a being who
spoke to him spiritually and said, “Not in external service
have you to seek your knighthood. You are destined to transform all
the forces at your disposal into powers of the soul, into weapons
forged for your use. All the weapons you saw in the palace signify
the spiritual weapons of mercy, compassion and love. The shields
signify the reasoning powers which you have to exercise to stand
firmly in the trials of a life spent in deeds of mercy, compassion
and love.” Then followed a short though dangerous illness, from
which, however, he recovered. After that he passed through
something like a retrospection of the whole of his life and in this
he lived, for several days. The young knight who in his boldest
dreams had only longed to become a great warrior was transformed into
a man who now most earnestly sought all the impulses of mercy,
compassion and love. All the forces he had thought of using in
the service of the physical world were transformed into moral
impulses of the inner life.
Here
we see how a moral impulse evolves in a
single personality. It is important that we should study a
great moral impulse, for though the individual cannot always raise
himself to the greatest ethical heights, yet he can only learn of
them where he sees them most radically expressed and acting with the
greatest forcefulness. It is precisely by turning our attention to
the greatest and most characteristic manifestations of moral
impulses, and then by considering the lesser ones in their light that
we can attain to a correct view of moral impulses active in
life.
But what
happened next to Francis of Assisi? It is not necessary to describe
the disputes with his father when he became prodigal in an entirely
different manner. His father's home was well known for its lavish
hospitality and wastefulness — for that reason his father
could understand his son's extravagance, but he could not understand
him after the radical change he had undergone, when he laid
aside his best clothes and even his necessities and gave them to
those in need. Nor could he understand his son's frame of mind, when
he said, “How remarkable it is that those through whom in the
West Christianity has received so much are so little
respected,” and then Francis of Assisi made a pilgrimage to
Rome and laid a large sum of money on the graves of the Apostles
Peter and Paul. These things his father did not understand. I need
not describe the discussions which then took place; I need only point
out that in them were concentrated all the moral impulses of Francis
of Assisi. These concentrated impulses had then transformed his
bravery into soul-forces, they had developed in such a manner that in
his meditations they produced a special conception, and appeared to
him as the Cross and upon it the Saviour. Under these
conditions he felt an inner personal relationship to the Cross
and the Christ, and from this there came to him the forces through
which he could immeasurably increase the moral impulses which now
flowed through him.
He found a
remarkable use for that which now developed in him. At that time the
horrors of leprosy had invaded many parts of Europe. The church had
discovered a strange cure for these lepers who were then so numerous.
The priests would call the lepers and say to them: " You are stricken
with this disease in this life, but inasmuch as you are lost to this
life, you have been won for God, you are dedicated to God." And the
lepers were then sent away to places far removed from mankind, where,
lonely and shunned, they had to spend the remainder of their lives.
I do not
blame this kind of cure. They knew no better. But Francis of Assisi
knew a better one. I mention this, because from actual experience it
will lead us to moral sources. You will see in our next lectures why
we are now mentioning these things. These moral impulses led Francis
of Assisi to search out lepers everywhere, and not to be afraid of
going about among them. And actually the leprosy which none of the
remedial agents at that time could cure, which made it necessary that
these people should be thrust out of human society, this leprosy was
healed in numberless cases by Francis of Assisi, because he
went to these people with the power which he possessed through moral
impulses, which made him fear nothing; it rather gave him courage not
only carefully to cleanse their wounds, but to live with the lepers,
to nurse them conscientiously, yea, to kiss them and permeate
them with his love.
The healing
of Poor Henry by the daughter of his faithful servant, is not merely
a poetic story, it expresses what actually occurred in a great number
of cases at that time through the historically well-known personality
of Francis of Assisi. Observe what really took place. In a human
being, in Francis of Assisi, there was a tremendous store of psychic
life, in the shape of something which we have found in the ancient
peoples of Europe as bravery and valour, which had been transformed
into soul and spirit, and afterwards acted psychically and spiritually.
Just as in ancient times that which had expressed itself as courage and
valour led to personal expenditure of force, and manifested itself in
Francis of Assisi in his younger days as extravagance, so it
now led him to become prodigal of moral forces. He was full to
overflowing with moral force, and this actually passed over to those
to whom he turned his love.
Now
try to realise that this moral force is a reality,
just as much a reality as the air we breathe and without which we
cannot live. It is a reality which flooded the whole being of Francis
of Assisi, and streamed from him into all hearts to which he
dedicated himself, for Francis of Assisi was prodigal of abundance of
force which streamed forth from him, and this is something which has
streamed into and intermingled with the whole of the mature life of
Europe, which has changed into a soul force, and thus worked, as it
were, in the world of external reality.
Try to
reflect upon these facts which at first may apparently have nothing
to do with the actual question of morality; try to grasp what is
contained in the devotion of the Indian and the valour of the
Norseman; reflect upon the healing effect of such moral forces as
were exercised by Francis of Assisi and then in our next lecture we
shall be able to speak about real, moral impulses and we shall see
that it is not merely words which give rise to morality, but
realities working in the soul.
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