Theosophy
GA 9
II. Re-imbodiment of the Spirit and Destiny
[ 1 ] Midway between body and spirit lives the soul. The impressions which come to it through the body are transitory. They are present only as long as the body opens its organs to the things of the outer world. My eye perceives the colour of the rose only as long as the rose is in front of it and my eye is itself open. The presence of the things of the outer world as well as of the bodily organs is necessary in order that an impression, a sensation, or a perception can occur. But what I have recognised in my intellect as truth concerning the rose does not pass with the present moment. And as regards its truth, it is not in the least dependent on me. It would be true even although I had never stood before the rose. What I know through the spirit is rooted in an element of the soul-life, through which the soul is linked with a world-content that manifests itself in the soul independently of its bodily basis. The point is not whether what manifests itself is essentially imperishable, but whether its manifestation for the soul takes place in such a way that the soul's perishable bodily basis takes no part, but only that which is independent of the perishable element. The enduring element in the soul comes under observation at the moment one becomes aware that the soul has experiences which are not bounded by its perishable factor. Again the important point is not whether these experiences come to consciousness primarily through perishable processes of the bodily organisation, but the fact that they contain something which does indeed dwell in the soul, but yet in its truth is independent of the transient process of the perception. The soul is placed between the present and duration, in that it holds the middle place between body and spirit. But it also mediates between the present and duration. It preserves the present for remembrance. It thereby rescues the present from impermanence, and takes it up into the duration of its own spiritual being. It also stamps that which endures upon the temporal and impermanent by not merely yielding itself up in its own life to the transitory incitements, but by determining things from out of its own initiative, and embodying its own nature in them in the shape of the actions it performs. By remembrance the soul preserves the yesterday; by action it prepares the to-morrow.
[ 2 ] My soul would always have to perceive afresh the red of the rose, in order to have it in consciousness, if it could not retain it through remembrance. What remains after an external impression, what can be retained by the soul, can again become a conception, independently of the external impression. Through this power of forming conceptions, the soul makes the outer world so into its own inner world that it can then retain the latter in the memory—for remembrance—and, independent of the impressions acquired, lead therewith a life of its own. The soul-life thus becomes the enduring result of the transitory impressions of the external world.
But action also receives permanence when once it is stamped on the outer world. If I cut a twig from a tree, something has taken place through my being, which completely changes the course of events in the outer world. Something quite different would have happened to the branch of the tree if I had not interfered by my action. I have called into life a series of effects which, without my existence, would not have been present. What I have done to-day endures for to-morrow; it becomes lasting through the deed, as my impressions of yesterday have become permanent for my soul through memory.
[ 3 ] For this fact of becoming permanent through action we do not, in our ordinary consciousness, form a definite conception, like that which we have for “memory,” for the becoming permanent of an experience which has occurred as the result of a perception. But will not the “I” of a man be just as much linked to the alteration in the world resulting from his deed as it is to a memory resulting from an impression? The “I” judges new impressions differently, according as it has or has not this or that other recollection. But it has also as “I” entered into a different relation to the world according as it has performed one deed or another. Whether in the relation between the world and my “I” a certain something new is present or not, depends upon whether or not I have made an impression on another person through an action. I am a different man in relation to the world after having made an impression on my surroundings.
The fact that what is here indicated is not so generally noticed as is the change in the “I” through the acquiring of a recollection, is solely due to the circumstance that the recollection unites itself, immediately on being formed, with the soul-life, which man always feels to be his own; but the external effects of the deed are independent of soul-life and work out in consequences which again are something different from what is retained in the recollection. But apart from this it must be admitted that, after a deed has been accomplished, there is something in the world which the ego has sealed with its own character. If one really thinks out what is here being considered, the question must arise as to whether the results of a deed on which the “I” has stamped its own nature might not retain a tendency to return to the “I,” just as an impression preserved in the memory, revives in response to some external inducement. What is preserved in the memory waits for such an inducement. Could not that which has retained the imprint of the “I” in the external world wait also, so as to approach the human soul from without, just as memory, in response to a given inducement, approaches it from within? This matter is put forward here only as a question: for certainly it might happen that the opportunity would never occur, through which the results of a deed, bearing the impress of the ego, could meet the human soul. But that these results do exist, as such, and that, through their presence, they determine the relation of the world to the “I” is seen at once to be a possible conception, when one really follows out in thought the matter before us. In the following considerations, we shall enquire whether there is anything in human life which, starting from this possibility, points to a reality.
[ 4 ] Let us first consider memory. How does it originate? Evidently in quite a different way from sensation or perception. Without the eye I cannot have the sensation “blue.” But through the eye I in no way have the remembrance of “blue.” If the eye is to give me this sensation now, a blue thing must come before it. The body would allow all impressions to sink back again into nothing were it not that whilst the present image is being formed through the act of perception, something is also taking place in the relationship between the outer world and the soul, as a result of which the man is able, subsequently, to form, through his own inner processes, a fresh image of that which he received in the first place as an image from outside himself. (Anyone who has acquired practice in observing the life of the soul will be able to realise how erroneous it is to say that a man has a perception to-day, and to-morrow, through memory, the same perception appears again, having meanwhile remained somewhere or other within him. No; the perception which I now have is a phenomenon which passes away with the “now.” When recollection takes place, a process occurs in me which is the result of something that happened, in addition to the calling forth of the actual present image, in the relation between the external world and me. The image called forth through remembrance is a new one, and not the old one preserved. Recollection consists in the fact that one can make a fresh mental image to oneself, and not that a former image can revive. What appears again in recollection is something different from the original image itself. These remarks are made here, because in the domain of Spiritual Science it is necessary that more accurate conceptions should be framed than is the case in ordinary life, and indeed also in ordinary science.) I remember; that is, I experience something which is itself no longer present. I unite a past experience with my present life. This is the case with every remembrance. Let us say for instance, that I meet a man and recognise him again because I met him yesterday. He would be a complete stranger to me were I not able to unite the picture which I made yesterday by perception, with my impression of him to-day. The picture of to-day is given me by the sense-perception, that is to say, by my sense-organisation. But who conjures yesterday's picture into my soul? It is the same being in me that was present during my experience yesterday, and is also present in that of to-day. In the previous explanations it has been called soul. Were it not for this faithful preserver of the past, each external impression would be always new to a man. Clearly the process by which perception becomes a recollection is that the soul imprints it upon the body, as though it were stamped upon it. But the soul must both make the impression and also itself perceive the impression it has made, just as it perceives any object outside itself. It is in this way that the soul is the preserver of memory.
[ 5 ] As preserver of the past the soul continually gathers treasures for the human spirit. That I can distinguish what is correct from what is incorrect depends on the fact that I, as a human being, am a thinking being, able to grasp the truth in my spirit. Truth is eternal; and it could always reveal itself to me again in things, even if I were always to lose sight of the past and each impression were to be a new one to me. But the spirit within me is not restricted to the impressions of the present alone; the soul extends its horizon over the past. And the more it is able to bring to the spirit out of the past, the richer does it make the spirit. Thus the soul hands on to the spirit what it has received from the body. The spirit of man therefore carries at each moment of its life a two-fold possession within itself: firstly the eternal laws of the good and the true; secondly, the remembrance of the experiences of the past. What it does, it accomplishes under the influence of these two factors. If we want to understand a human spirit we must therefore know two different things about it: first, how much of the eternal has revealed itself to it; second, how much treasure from the past lies stored up within it.
[ 6 ] These treasures by no means remain in the spirit in an unchanged form. The impressions man acquires from his experiences fade gradually from the memory. Not so their fruits. One does not remember all the experiences one lived through during childhood while acquiring the faculties of reading and writing. But one could not read or write if one had not had the experiences, and if their fruits had not been preserved in the form of abilities. And that is the transmutation which the spirit effects on the treasures of memory. It consigns whatever can merely lead to pictures of the separate experiences to their fate, and extracts from them only the force necessary for enhancing its own abilities. Thus not one experience passes by unutilised; the soul preserves each one as memory, and from each the spirit draws forth all that can enrich its abilities and the whole content of its life. The human spirit grows through assimilated experiences. And although one cannot find the past experiences in the spirit as it were in a storeroom, one nevertheless finds their effects in the abilities which the man has acquired.
[ 7 ] Spirit and soul have thus far been considered only within the period lying between birth and death. One cannot stop there. Anyone wishing to do so would be like a man who observes the human body also within the same limits. Much can certainly be discovered within these limits; but the human form can never be explained by what lies between birth and death. It cannot build itself up directly out of mere physical substances and forces. It can only descend from a form like its own, which arises as the resultant of what has been handed on by heredity. The physical materials and forces build up the body during life; the forces of propagation enable another body, a body which can have the same form, to proceed from it; that is to say, one which is able to be the bearer of a similar life-body. Each life-body is a repetition of its forefather. Only because it is such a repetition does it appear, not in any chance form, but in that passed on to it by heredity. The forces which make possible my human form lay in my forefathers. But the spirit of a man appears also in a definite form (the word “form” is naturally used in a spiritual sense). And the forms of the spirit are the most varied imaginable in different persons. No two men have the same spiritual form. Investigations in this region should be made in just as quiet and matter-of-fact a manner as in the physical world. It cannot be said that the differences in human beings in a spiritual respect arise only from the differences in their environment, their upbringing, etc. This is by no means the case: for two people under similar influences as regards environment, upbringing, etc., develop in quite different ways. One must therefore admit that they have entered on their path of life with quite different qualities Here one is brought face to face with an important fact which when its full bearing is recognised, sheds light on the being of man. A person who is set upon directing his outlook exclusively towards material happenings, could indeed assert that the individual differences of human personalities arise from differences in the constitution of the material germs. (And in view of the laws of heredity discovered by Gregor Mendel and further developed by others, such a view can say much that gives it the appearance of justification, even to a scientific judgment.) One who judges in this way only shows, however, that he has no insight into the real relation of man to his experience. For it is obvious to careful observation that external circumstances affect different persons in different ways, because of something which is not the direct result of their material development. To the really accurate investigator in this domain it becomes apparent that what proceeds from the material basis can be distinguished from that which, it is true, arises through the mutual interaction of the man with his experiences, but which can only take shape and form in that the soul itself enters into this mutual interaction. It is clear that the soul stands here in relation to something within the external world, which, by virtue of its very nature, cannot be connected with the material, germinal basis.
[ 8 ] Human beings differ from their animal fellow-creatures on the earth through their physical form. But in respect of this form they are, within certain limits, like one another. There is only one human species. However great may be the differences between races, tribes, peoples, and personalities, as regards the physical body, the resemblance between man and man is greater than between man and any animal species. Everything that finds expression in the human species is conditioned through inheritance from forefathers to descendants. And the human form is bound to this heredity. As the lion can inherit its physical form through lion forefathers only, so can the human being inherit his physical body through human forefathers only.
[ 9 ] Just as the physical similarity of men is clear to the eye, so does the difference of their spiritual forms reveal itself to the unprejudiced spiritual gaze. There is one very evident fact through which this is expressed. It consists in the existence of the life-history of a human being. Were a human being merely a member of a species, no life-history could exist. A lion, a dove, lay claim to interest in so far as they belong to the lion or the dove species. The single being in all its essentials has been understood when one has described the species. It matters little whether one has to do with father, son, or grandson. What is of interest in them, father, son and grandson have in common. But what a human being signifies begins, not where he is merely a member of a species, but where he is a single individual being. I have not in the least understood the nature of Mr. Smith if I have described his son or his father. I must know his own life-history. Anyone who reflects on the nature of biography becomes aware that in respect of the spiritual each man is a species for himself. Those people, to be sure, who regard a biography merely as a collection of external incidents in the life of a person, may claim they can write the biography of a dog in the same way as that of a man. But anyone who depicts in a biography the real individuality of a man, grasps the fact that he has in the biography of one human being something that corresponds to the description of a whole species in the animal kingdom. The point is not—and this is quite obvious—that one can relate something in the nature of a biography about an animal—especially clever ones—but the point is that the human biography does not correspond to the life-history of the individual animal but to the description of the animal species. Of course there will always be people who will seek to refute what has been said here by urging that owners of menageries, for instance, know how single animals of the same species differ from one another. The man who judges thus, shows however, that he is unable to distinguish the difference between individuals from a difference which reveals itself as acquired only through individuality.
[ 10 ] Now if genus or species in the physical sense becomes intelligible only when one understands it as conditioned by heredity, so too the spiritual being can be understood only through a similar spiritual heredity. I have received my physical human form because of my descent from human forefathers. Whence have I that which finds expression in my life-history? As physical man, I repeat the shape of my forefathers. What do I repeat as spiritual man? Anyone claiming that what is comprised in my life-history required no further explanation, but has just be accepted as such, must be regarded as being also bound to maintain that he has seen, somewhere, an earth-mound on which the lumps of matter have, quite by themselves, conglomerated into a living man.
[ 11 ] As physical man I spring from other physical men, for I have the same shape as the whole human species. The qualities of the species, accordingly, could thus be acquired within the species through heredity. As spiritual man I have my own form as I have my own life-history. I can therefore have obtained this form from no one but myself. And since I entered the world not with undefined but with defined soul-predispositions, and since the course of my life, as it comes to expression in my life-history, is determined by these predispositions, my work upon myself cannot have begun with my birth. I must, as spiritual man, have existed before my birth. In my forefathers I certainly did not exist; for they as spiritual human beings, are different from me. My life-history is not explainable through theirs. On the contrary, I must, as spiritual being, be the repetition of someone through whose life-history mine can be explained. The only thinkable alternative would be this: that I owe the form of the content of my life-history to a spiritual life only, prior to birth (or more correctly to conception.) But one would only be entitled to hold this idea if one were willing to assume that what acts upon the human soul from its physical surroundings is of the same nature as what the soul receives from a purely spiritual world. Such an assumption contradicts really accurate observation. For what affects the human soul out of its physical environment works in the same way as a later experience works on a similar earlier experience in the same life. In order to observe these relations correctly, one must acquire a perception of how there are impressions operating in human life, whose influence upon the aptitudes of the soul is like standing before a deed that has to be done, in contrast to what has already been practised in physical life. But the soul does not bring faculties gained in this immediate life to meet these impressions, but aptitudes which receive the impressions in the same way as do the faculties acquired through practice. Anyone who penetrates into these matters, arrives at the conception of earth-lives which must have preceded this present one. He cannot in his thinking stop at purely spiritual experiences preceding this present earth-life. The physical form which Schiller bore, he inherited from his forefathers. But just as little as Schiller's physical form can have grown directly out of the earth, as little can his spiritual being have arisen directly out of a spiritual environment. He must himself be the re-embodiment of a spiritual being, through whose life-history his own will be explicable, just as his physical human form is explicable through human propagation. In the same way, therefore, as the physical human form is again and again a repetition, a re-embodiment, of the distinctively human species, so too the spiritual human being must be a re-embodiment of the same spiritual human being. For, as spiritual human being, each one is in fact his own species.
[ 12 ] It might be objected to what has been stated here, that it is a mere spinning of thoughts; and such external proofs might be demanded as one is accustomed to demand in ordinary natural science. The reply to this is that the re-embodiment of the spiritual human being is, naturally, a process which does not belong to the domain of external physical facts, but is one that takes place entirely in the spiritual region. And to this region no other of our ordinary powers of intelligence has entrance, save that of thinking. He who will not trust to the power of thinking, cannot in fact enlighten himself regarding higher spiritual facts. For him whose spiritual eye is opened, the above trains of thought act with exactly the same force as does an event that takes place before his physical eyes. Anyone who ascribes to a so-called “proof,” constructed according to methods of natural science, greater power to convince than the above observations concerning the significance of life-history may be in the ordinary sense of the word a great scientist; but from the paths of true spiritual investigation he is very far distant.
[ 13 ] One of the most dangerous assumptions consists in claiming to explain the spiritual qualities of a man by inheritance from father, mother or other ancestors. Anyone who is guilty of the assumption, for example, that Goethe inherited what constituted his essential being from father or mother will at first be hardly accessible to argument, for there lies within him a deep antipathy to unprejudiced observation. A materialistic spell prevents him from seeing the mutual connections of phenomena in the true light.
[ 14 ] In such observations as the above, the antecedents are provided for following the human being beyond birth and death. Within the boundaries formed by birth and death, the human being belongs to the three worlds, of the bodily element, of soul, and of spirit. The soul forms the intermediate link between body and spirit, inasmuch as it endows the third member of the body, the soul-body, with the capacity for sensation, and inasmuch as it permeates the first member of the spirit, the Spirit-self, as consciousness-soul. Thus it takes part and lot during life with the body as well as with the spirit. This comes to expression in its whole existence. It will depend on the organisation of the soul-body, how the sentient soul can unfold its capabilities. And on the other hand, it will depend on the life of the consciousness-soul to what extent the Spirit-self can develop within it. The more highly organised the soul-body is, the more complete is the intercourse which the sentient soul will be able to develop with the outer world. And the Spirit-self will become so much the richer and more powerful, the more the consciousness-soul brings nourishment to it. It has been shown that during life this nourishment is supplied to the Spirit-self through assimilated experiences and the fruits of those experiences. For the interaction of soul and spirit described above can, of course, only take place where soul and spirit are within each other, penetrating each other, that is, within the union of Spirit-self with consciousness-soul.
[ 15 ] Let us consider first the interaction of the soul-body and the sentient soul. The soul-body, as has become evident, is the most finely elaborated part of the body; but it nevertheless belongs to the body and is dependent on it. Physical body, ether-body, and soul-body compose, in a certain sense, one whole. Hence the soul-body is also involved in the laws of physical heredity through which the body receives its shape. And since it is the most mobile and, so to speak, the most volatile form of body, it must also exhibit the most mobile, volatile manifestations of heredity. While, therefore, the difference in the physical body corresponding to races, peoples and tribes is the smallest, and while the ether-body shows, on the whole, a preponderating likeness, although a greater divergence as between single individuals, in the soul-body the difference is already a very considerable one. In it is expressed what is felt to be the external, personal peculiarity of a man. It is therefore also the bearer of that part of this personal peculiarity which is passed on from parents, grandparents, etc., to their descendants. True, the soul as such leads a complete life of its own; it shuts itself up with its inclinations and disinclinations, its feelings and passions. But as a whole it is nevertheless active, and therefore this whole comes to expression also in the sentient soul. And because the sentient soul interpenetrates and as it were fills the soul-body, the latter forms itself according to the nature of the soul and can in this way, as the bearer of heredity, pass on inclinations, passions, etc., from forefathers to children. On this fact rests what Goethe says: “From my father I have stature and the serious manner of life, from my mother a joyous disposition and the love of telling stories.” Genius, of course, he did not receive from either.
[ 16 ] In this way we are shown what part of a man's soul-qualities he hands over, as it were, to the line of physical heredity. The substances and forces of the physical body are in like manner present in the whole circle of external, physical Nature. They are continually being taken up from it and given back to it. In the space of a few years the substance which composes our physical body is entirely renewed. That this substance takes the form of the human body, and that it is perpetually renewed within this body, depends upon the fact that it is held together by the ether-body. And the form of the latter is not determined by events between birth—or conception—and death alone, but is dependent on the laws of heredity which extend beyond birth and death. That soul-qualities also can be transmitted by heredity, that is, that the progress of physical heredity receives an impulse from the soul, is due to the fact that the soul-body can be influenced by the sentient soul.
Now how does the interaction between soul and spirit proceed? During life, the spirit is bound up with the soul in the way shown above. The soul receives from it the gift of living in the good and the true, and of thereby bringing, in its own life, in its tendencies, impulses and passions, the spirit itself to expression. The Spirit-self brings to the “I,” from the world of the spirit, the eternal laws of the true and good.
These link themselves through the consciousness-soul with the experiences of the soul's own life. These experiences themselves pass away but their fruits remain. The Spirit-self receives an abiding impression by having been linked with them. When the human spirit meets with an experience similar to one to which it has already been linked, it sees in it something familiar, and is able to adopt a different attitude towards it from the one it would adopt if it were facing it for the first time. This is the basis of all learning. And the fruits of learning are acquired capacities. The fruits of the transitory life are in this way graven on the eternal spirit. And do we not see these fruits? Whence spring the innate predispositions and talents described above as characteristic of the spiritual man? Surely only from capacities of one kind or another which the human being brings with him when he begins his earthly life. These capacities, in certain respects, exactly resemble those which we can also acquire for ourselves during our earthly life. Take the case of a genius. It is known that Mozart when a boy, could write out from memory a long musical work after hearing it only once. He was able to do this only because he could survey the whole at once. Within certain limits, a man is also able during life to increase his capacity of rapid survey, of grasping connections, so that he then possesses new faculties. Lessing has said of himself that through a talent for critical observation he had acquired for himself something that came near to genius. One has either to regard such abilities founded on innate capacities as a miracle or to consider them as fruits of experiences which the Spirit-self has had through a soul. They have been graven on this Spirit-self, and since they have not been implanted in this fife, they must have been in a former one. The human spirit is its own species. And just as man, as a physical being belonging to a species, transmits his qualities within the species, so does the spirit within its species, that is, within itself. In each life the human spirit appears as a repetition of itself with the fruits of its former experiences in previous lives.1See also under Addenda p. 58. This life is consequently the repetition of others, and brings with it what the Spirit-self has, by work, acquired for itself in the previous life. When the Spirit-self absorbs something that can develop into fruit, it saturates itself with the Life-spirit. Just as the life-body reproduces the form, from species to species, so does the Life-spirit reproduce the soul from personal existence to personal existence.
[ 17 ] The preceding considerations give validity to that conception which seeks the reason for certain life-processes of man in repeated earth-lives. That conception can really only receive its full significance by means of observations which spring from spiritual insight, such as can be acquired by following the path of knowledge described at the close of this book. Here the only intention was to show that ordinary observation, rightly orientated by thinking, already leads to this conception. But observation of this kind, it is true, will at first leave the conception to become something like a silhouette. And it will not be possible to defend the conception entirely against the objections advanced by observation which is neither accurate, nor rightly guided by thinking. But on the other hand it is true that anyone who acquires such a conception through ordinary thoughtful observation, makes himself ready for supersensible observation. To a certain extent he develops something that one needs must have prior to this supersensible observation, just as one must have eyes prior to observing through the senses. Anyone who objects that through the formation of such a conception one can readily suggest to oneself the super-sensible observation, proves only that he is incapable of entering into the reality and that it is he himself who is thereby suggesting his objections.
[ 18 ] Thus the experiences of the soul become enduring not only within the boundaries of birth and death, but beyond death. The soul does not stamp its experiences, however, only on the spirit which flashes up in it; it stamps them on the outer world also, through its action. What a man did yesterday is to-day still present in its effects. The relationship between cause and effect in this connection is illustrated by the parallel relation between death and sleep. Sleep has often been called the younger brother of death. I get up in the morning. My consecutive activity has been interrupted by the night. Now under ordinary circumstances, it is not possible for me to begin my activity again just as I like. I must connect it with my doings of yesterday, if there is to be order and coherence in my life. My actions of yesterday are the conditions predetermining those actions which fall to me to-day. I have created my fate of to-day by what I did yesterday. I have separated myself for a while from my activity; but this activity belongs to me and draws me again to itself, after I have withdrawn myself from it for a while. My past remains bound up within me; it lives on in my present, and will follow me into my future. If the effects of my yesterday were not to be my fate to-day, I should have had, not to wake this morning, but to be newly created out of nothing. It would be absurd if under ordinary circumstances I were not to occupy a house that I have had built for me.
[ 19 ] The human spirit is as little newly created when it begins its earthly life, as a man is newly created every morning; let us try to make clear to ourselves what happens when entrance into this life takes place. A physical body, receiving its form through the laws of heredity, comes upon the scene. This body becomes the bearer of a spirit, which repeats a previous life in a new form. Between the two stands the soul, which leads a self-contained life of its own. Its inclinations and disinclinations, its wishes and desires, minister to it; it presses thought into its service. As sentient soul, it receives the impressions of the outer world and carries them to the spirit, in order that the spirit may extract from them the fruits that are to endure. It plays, as it were, the part of intermediary; and its task is fulfilled when it is adequate to this part. The body forms impressions for the sentient soul which transforms them into sensations, retains them in the memory as conceptions, and hands them over to the spirit to hold permanently. The soul is really that through which man belongs to his whole earthly life. Through his body he belongs to the physical human species. Through it he is a member of this species. With his spirit he lives in a higher world. The soul binds the two worlds together for a time.
[ 20 ] But the physical world into which the human spirit enters is no strange field of action to it. On that world the traces of its own former actions are imprinted. Something in this field of action belongs to this spirit. It bears the impress of its being. It is related to it. As the soul in the first place transmitted impressions from the outer world to the human spirit, in order that they might remain enduringly within it, so later the soul, as the organ of the human spirit, converted the faculties bestowed on it by the spirit into deeds which in their effects are also enduring. Thus the soul has actually immersed itself in these actions. In the effects of his deeds a man's soul lives further a second life of its own. Now this provides us with a motive for examining life from this angle, in order to perceive how the processes of fate enter into it. Something “happens” to a man. He is probably at first inclined to regard such a “happening” as something coming into his life “by chance.” But he can become aware of how he himself is the outcome of such “chances.” Anyone who studies himself in his fortieth year and in the search after his soul-nature refuses to be content with an unreal abstract conception of the “I,” may well say to himself: “I am indeed nothing else whatever than what I have become through what has ‘happened’ to me according to fate up to the present. Should I not be a different man, if, for example, I had had a certain series of experiences when twenty years old instead of those that I did have?” The man will then seek his “I,” not only in those educative impulses which came to him from “within” outwards, but also in what has formatively thrust itself into his life from “without.” He will recognise his own “I” in that which “happens to him.” If one gives oneself up unreservedly to such a perception, then only a further step of really intimate observation of life is needed in order to see, in what comes to one through certain experiences of destiny, something which lays hold upon the “I” from without, just as memory works from within in order to make a past experience flash up again. Thus one can make oneself able to perceive in the experiences of fate, how a former action of the soul finds its way to the ego, just as in memory an earlier experience finds its way into the mind as a conception, if called forth by an external cause. It has already been alluded to as a “possible” conception, that the consequences of a deed may meet the human soul again. A meeting of this kind in regard to certain consequences of action is out of the question in the course of one earth-life, because that earth-life was particularly arranged for the carrying out of the deed. Experience is derived from its accomplishment. A definite consequence of that action can as little react upon the soul in that case, as one can remember an experience while one is still in the midst of it. It can only be a question here of the experience of the results of actions which do not confront the ego while it has the same soul-content which it had during the earth-life in which the deed was committed. One's gaze can only be directed to the consequences of action from another earth-life. As soon as one realises that what “happens” to one seemingly as a destined experience is bound up with the “I,” just as much as what shapes itself “from out of the inner being” of that “I”—then one is forced to the conclusion that in such a destined experience one is concerned with the consequences of action from previous earth-lives. One sees that one is thus led, through an intimate grasp of life, guided by thinking, to what for the ordinary consciousness is the paradoxical assumption—namely, that the destined experiences of one earth-life are linked with the actions of preceding earth-lives. This conception again can only receive its full content through supersensible knowledge; lacking this it remains a mere silhouette. But once more, this conception, derived from the ordinary consciousness, prepares the soul so that it is enabled to behold its truth in actual super-sensible observation.
[ 21 ] Only the one part of my deed is in the outer world: the other is in myself. Let us make this relation of “I” to deed clear by a simple example taken from natural science. Creatures that once could see, migrated to the caves of Kentucky, and through their life in them have lost their power of sight. Existence in darkness has put the eyes out of action. Consequently the physical and chemical activity that is present when seeing takes place is no longer carried on in these eyes. The stream of nourishment, which was formerly expended on this activity, now flows to other organs. These creatures can now live only in these caves. They have by their act, by the immigration, created the conditions of their later lives. The immigration has become a part of their fate. A being that once acted, has united itself with the results of the action. It is so also with the human spirit. The soul could only mediate and make over certain capacities to the spirit through being itself active. And these capacities correspond to the actions. Through an action which the soul has performed, there lives in the soul the predisposition, full of energy, to perform another action, which is the fruit of that first action. The soul carries this as a necessity within itself, until the latter action has come to pass. One might also say: through an action, the necessity has been imprinted upon the soul to carry out the consequences of that action.
[ 22 ] By means of its actions, the human spirit has really brought about its own fate. In a new life it finds itself linked to what it did in a former one. One may ask, “How can that be, when the human spirit on reincarnating finds itself in an entirely different world from that which it left at some earlier time?” This question is based on a very superficial conception of the linking's of fate. If I change my scene of action from Europe to America I also find myself in new surroundings. Nevertheless, my life in America depends entirely on my previous life in Europe. If I have been a mechanic in Europe, my life in America will shape itself quite differently from the way in which it would, had I been a bank clerk. In the one case I should probably be surrounded in America by machinery, in the other by banking arrangements. In each case my previous life decided my environment; it attracts to itself, as it were, out of the whole surrounding world, those things that are related to it. So it is with the Spirit-self. It inevitably surrounds itself in a new life with that to which it is related from previous lives. And on that account sleep is an apt image for death, because the man during sleep is withdrawn from the field of action in which his fate awaits him. While one sleeps, events in this field of action pursue their course. One has for a time no influence on this course of events. Nevertheless, our life in a new day depends on the effects of the deeds of the previous one. Our personality actually incarnates anew every morning in our world of action. What was separated from us during the night is spread out as it were around us during the day. So it is with the actions of the former embodiments of man. They are bound up with him as his destiny, as life in the dark caves remains bound up with the creatures who, through migration into them, have lost their power of sight. Just as these creatures can only live in the surroundings in which they have placed themselves, so the human spirit can only live in the surroundings which by its acts it has created for itself. That I find in the morning a state of affairs which I created on the previous day is brought about by the direct progress of the events themselves. That I, when I reincarnate, find surroundings which correspond with the results of my deeds in a previous life, is brought about by the relationship of my reincarnated spirit with the things in the world around. From this one can form a conception of how the soul is set into the constitution of man. The physical body is subject to the laws of heredity. The human spirit, on the contrary, has to incarnate over and over again; and its law consists in its bringing over the fruits of the former lives into the following ones. The soul lives in the present. But this life in the present is not independent of the previous fives. For the incarnating spirit brings its destiny with it from its previous incarnations. And this destiny determines its life. What impressions the soul will be able to have, what wishes it will be able to have gratified, what sorrows and joys shall grow up for it, with what individuals it shall come into contact—all this depends on the nature of the actions in the past incarnations of the spirit. Those people with whom the soul was bound up in one life, the soul must meet again in a subsequent one, because the actions which have taken place between them must have their consequences. When this soul seeks re-embodiment, those others, who are bound up with it, will also strive towards their incarnation at the same time. The life of the soul is therefore the result of the self-created destiny of the human spirit. The course of man's life between birth and death is therefore determined in a three-fold way. And thereby he is dependent in a three-fold way on factors which he on the other side of birth and death. The body is subject to the law of heredity; the soul is subject to its self-created fate. Using an ancient expression, one calls this fate, created by the man himself, his karma. And the spirit is under the law of re-embodiment, repeated earth-lives. One can accordingly express the relationship between spirit, soul and body in the following way as well: the spirit is immortal; birth and death reign over the body according to the laws of the physical world; the soul-life, which is subject to destiny, mediates the connection of both during an earthly life. All further knowledge about the being of man presupposes acquaintance with the “three worlds” to which he belongs. These three worlds are dealt with in the following pages.
[ 23 ] A thinking which frankly faces the phenomena of life, and is not afraid to follow out to their final consequences the thoughts resulting from a living, vivid contemplation of life, can, by pure logic, arrive at the conception of the law of destiny and repeated incarnations. Just as it is true that for the seer with the opened “spiritual eye,” past lives, like an opened book, he before him as experience, so it is true that the truth of all this can become obvious to the unbiased reason which reflects upon it.2Compare what is said about this at the end of the book under Addenda p. 45.
Wiederverkörperung des Geistes und Schicksal
(Reinkarnation und Karma)
[ 1 ] In der Mitte zwischen Leib und Geist lebt die Seele. Die Eindrücke, die ihr durch den Leib zukommen, sind vorübergehend. Sie sind nur so lange vorhanden, als der Leib seine Organe den Dingen der Außenwelt öffnet. Mein Auge empfindet die Farbe an der Rose nur so lange, als die Rose ihm gegenübersteht und es selbst geöffnet ist. Die Gegenwart sowohl des Dinges in der Außenwelt wie auch diejenige des leiblichen Organs sind notwendig, damit ein Eindruck, eine Empfindung oder Wahrnehmung zustande kommen können. Was ich aber im Geiste als Wahrheit über die Rose erkannt habe, das geht mit der Gegenwart nicht vorüber. Und es ist in seiner Wahrheit auch ganz und gar nicht von mir abhängig. Es wäre wahr, auch wenn ich niemals der Rose gegenübergetreten wäre. Was ich durch den Geist erkenne, ist in einem Elemente des Seelenlebens gegründet, durch das die Seele mit einem Weltinhalt zusammenhängt, der in ihr sich unabhängig von ihren vergänglichen Leibesgrundlagen offenbart. Es kommt nicht darauf an, ob das sich Offenbarende selbst überall ein Unvergängliches ist, sondern darauf, ob die Offenbarung für die Seele so geschieht, dass dabei nicht ihre vergängliche Leibesgrundlage in Betracht kommt, sondern dasjenige, was in ihr von diesem Vergänglichen unabhängig ist. Das Dauernde in der Seele ist in dem Augenblicke in die Beobachtung gestellt, in dem man gewahr wird, dass Erlebnisse da sind, die nicht durch ihr Vergängliches begrenzt sind. Auch darum handelt es sich nicht, ob diese Erlebnisse zunächst durch vergängliche Verrichtungen der Leibesorganisation bewusst werden, sondern darum, dass sie etwas enthalten, was zwar in der Seele lebt, aber doch in seiner Wahrheit unabhängig ist von dem vergänglichen Vorgange der Wahrnehmung. Zwischen Gegenwart und Dauer ist die Seele gestellt, in dem sie die Mitte hält zwischen Leib und Geist. Aber sie vermittelt auch Gegenwart und Dauer. Sie bewahrt das Gegenwärtige für die Erinnerung. Dadurch entreißt sie es der Vergänglichkeit und nimmt es in die Dauer ihres Geistigen auf. Auch prägt sie das Dauernde dem Zeitlichvergänglichen ein, indem sie in ihrem Leben sich nicht nur den vorübergehenden Reizen hingibt, sondern von sich aus die Dinge bestimmt, ihnen ihr Wesen in den Handlungen einverleibt, die sie verrichtet. Durch die Erinnerung bewahrt die Seele das Gestern; durch die Handlung bereitet sie das Morgen vor.
[ 2 ] Meine Seele müsste das Rot der Rose immer von neuem wahrnehmen, um es im Bewusstsein zu haben, wenn sie es nicht durch die Erinnerung behalten könnte. Das, was nach dem äußeren Eindruck zurückbleibt, was von der Seele behalten werden kann, kann unabhängig von dem äußeren Eindrucke wieder Vorstellung werden. Durch diese Gabe macht die Seele die Außenwelt so zu ihrer eigenen Innenwelt, dass sie diese dann durch das Gedächtnis — für die Erinnerung — behalten und unabhängig von den gewonnenen Eindrücken mit ihr weiter ein eigenes Leben führen kann. Das Seelenleben wird so zur dauernden Wirkung der vergänglichen Eindrücke der Außenwelt. Aber auch die Handlung erhält Dauer, wenn sie einmal der Außenwelt aufgeprägt ist. Schneide ich einen Zweig von einem Baume, so ist durch meine Seele etwas geschehen, was den Lauf der Ereignisse in der Außenwelt vollkommen ändert. Es wäre mit dem Zweige an dem Baume etwas ganz anderes geschehen, wenn ich nicht handelnd eingegriffen hätte. Ich habe eine Reihe von Wirkungen ins Leben gerufen, die ohne mein Dasein nicht vorhanden gewesen wären. Was ich heute getan habe, bleibt für morgen bestehen. Es wird dauernd durch die Tat, wie meine Eindrücke von gestern für meine Seele dauernd geworden sind durch das Gedächtnis.
[ 3 ] Für dieses Dauerndwerden durch die Tat bildet man im gewöhnlichen Bewusstsein nicht in der gleichen Art eine Vorstellung aus, wie diejenige ist, die man für «Gedächtnis» hat, für das Dauerndwerden eines Erlebnisses, das auf Grund einer Wahrnehmung erfolgt. Aber wird nicht das «Ich» des Menschen mit der in der Welt erfolgten Veränderung durch seine Tat ebenso verbunden wie mit der aus einem Eindruck erfolgenden Erinnerung? Das «Ich» urteilt über neue Eindrücke anders, je nachdem es die eine oder die andere Erinnerung hat oder nicht. Aber es ist auch als «Ich» in eine andere Verbindung zur Welt getreten, je nachdem es die eine oder die andere Tat verrichtet hat oder nicht. Ob ich auf einen andern Menschen einen Eindruck gemacht habe durch eine Tat oder nicht, davon hängt es ab, ob etwas in dem Verhältnisse der Welt zu meinem «Ich» vorhanden ist oder nicht. Ich bin in meinem Verhältnis zur Welt ein anderer, nachdem ich auf meine Umgebung einen Eindruck gemacht habe. Dass man, was hier gemeint ist, nicht so bemerkt wie die Veränderung des «Ich» durch Erwerb einer Erinnerung, das rührt allein davon her, dass die Erinnerung sich sogleich bei ihrer Bildung verbindet mit dem Seelenleben, das man schon immer als das Seinige empfunden hat; die äußere Wirkung der Tat aber verläuft, losgelöst von diesem Seelenleben, in Folgen, die noch etwas anderes sind, als was man davon in der Erinnerung behält. Dessen ungeachtet aber sollte man zugeben, dass, nach einer vollbrachten Tat, etwas in der Welt ist, dem sein Charakter durch das «Ich» aufgeprägt ist. Man wird, wenn man das hier in Betracht Kommende wirklich durchdenkt, zu der Frage kommen: Könnte es nicht sein, dass die Folgen einer vollbrachten Tat, denen ihr Wesen durch das «Ich» aufgeprägt ist, eine Tendenz erhalten, zu dem Ich wieder hinzuzutreten, wie ein im Gedächtnis bewahrter Eindruck wieder auflebt, wenn sich dazu eine äußere Veranlassung ergibt? Das im Gedächtnis Bewahrte wartet auf eine solche Veranlassung. Könnte nicht das in der Außenwelt mit dem Ich-Charakter Bewahrte ebenso warten, um so von außen an die Menschenseele heranzutreten, wie die Erinnerung von innen an diese Seele bei gegebener Veranlassung herantritt? Hier wird diese Sache nur als Frage hingestellt: denn, gewiss, es könnte sein, dass sich die Veranlassung niemals ergäbe, dass die mit dem Ich-Charakter behafteten Folgen einer Tat die Menschenseele treffen könnten. Aber dass sie als solche vorhanden sind und dass sie in ihrem Vorhandensein das Verhältnis der Welt zu dem Ich bestimmen, das erscheint sofort als eine mögliche Vorstellung, wenn man, was vorliegt, denkend verfolgt. Es soll in den nachfolgenden Betrachtungen untersucht werden, ob es im Menschenleben etwas gibt, das von dieser «möglichen» Vorstellung aus auf eine Wirklichkeit deutet.
[ 4 ] Es sei nun erst das Gedächtnis betrachtet. Wie kommt es zustande? Offenbar auf ganz andere Art als die Empfindung oder Wahrnehmung. Ohne Auge kann ich nicht die Empfindung des «Blau» haben. Aber durch das Auge habe ich noch keineswegs die Erinnerung an das «Blau». Soll mir das Auge jetzt diese Empfindung geben, so muss ihm ein blaues Ding gegenübertreten. Die Leiblichkeit würde alle Eindrücke immer wieder in Nichts zurücksinken lassen, wenn nicht, indem durch den Wahrnehmungsakt die gegenwärtige Vorstellung sich bildet, zugleich in dem Verhältnisse zwischen Außenwelt und Seele sich etwas abspielte, was in dem Menschen eine solche Folge hat, dass er später durch Vorgänge in sich wieder eine Vorstellung von dem haben kann, was früher eine Vorstellung von außen her bewirkt hat. Wer sich Übung für seelisches Beobachten erworben hat, wird finden können, dass der Ausdruck ganz schief ist, der von der Meinung ausgeht: man habe heute eine Vorstellung und morgen trete durch das Gedächtnis diese Vorstellung wieder auf, nachdem sie sich inzwischen irgendwo im Menschen aufgehalten hat. Nein, die Vorstellung, die ich jetzt habe, ist eine Erscheinung, die mit dem «jetzt» vorübergeht. Tritt Erinnerung ein, so findet in mir ein Vorgang statt, der die Folge von etwas ist, das außer dem Hervorrufen der gegenwärtigen Vorstellung in dem Verhältnis zwischen Außenwelt und mir stattgefunden hat. Die durch die Erinnerung hervorgerufene Vorstellung ist eine neue und nicht die aufbewahrte alte. Erinnerung besteht darin, dass wieder vorgestellt werden kann, nicht, dass eine Vorstellung wieder aufleben kann. Was wieder eintritt, ist etwas anderes als die Vorstellung selbst. (Diese Anmerkung wird hier gemacht, weil auf geisteswissenschaftlichem Gebiete notwendig ist, dass man sich über gewisse Dinge genauere Vorstellungen macht als im gewöhnlichen Leben und sogar auch in der gewöhnlichen Wissenschaft.) — Ich erinnere mich, das heißt: ich erlebe etwas, was selbst nicht mehr da ist. Ich verbinde ein vergangenes Erlebnis mit meinem gegenwärtigen Leben. Es ist so bei jeder Erinnerung. Man nehme an, ich treffe einen Menschen und erkenne ihn wieder, weil ich ihn gestern getroffen habe. Er wäre für mich ein völlig Unbekannter, wenn ich nicht das Bild, das ich mir gestern durch die Wahrnehmung gemacht habe, mit meinem heutigen Eindruck von ihm verbinden könnte. Das heutige Bild gibt mir die Wahrnehmung, das heißt meine Sinnesorganisation. Wer aber zaubert das gestrige in meine Seele herein? Es ist dasselbe Wesen in mir, das gestern bei meinem Erlebnis dabei war und das auch bei dem heutigen dabei ist. Seele ist es in den vorhergehenden Ausführungen genannt worden. Ohne diese treue Bewahrerin des Vergangenen wäre jeder äußere Eindruck für den Menschen immer wieder neu. Gewiss ist, dass die Seele den Vorgang, durch welchen etwas Erinnerung wird, dem Leibe wie durch ein Zeichen einprägt; doch muss eben die Seele diese Einprägung machen und dann ihre eigene Einprägung wahrnehmen, wie sie etwas Äußeres wahrnimmt. So ist sie die Bewahrerin der Erinnerung.
[ 5 ] Als Bewahrerin des Vergangenen sammelt die Seele fortwährend Schätze für den Geist auf. Dass ich das Richtige von dem Unrichtigen unterscheiden kann, das hängt davon ab, dass ich als Mensch ein denkendes Wesen bin, das die Wahrheit im Geiste zu ergreifen vermag. Die Wahrheit ist ewig; und sie könnte sich mir immer wieder an den Dingen offenbaren, auch wenn ich das Vergangene immer wieder aus dem Auge verlöre und jeder Eindruck für mich ein neuer wäre. Aber der Geist in mir ist nicht allein auf die Eindrücke der Gegenwart beschränkt; die Seele erweitert seinen Gesichtskreis über die Vergangenheit hin. Und je mehr sie aus der Vergangenheit zu ihm hinzuzufügen vermag, desto reicher macht sie ihn. So gibt die Seele an den Geist weiter, was sie vom Leibe erhalten hat. — Der Geist des Menschen trägt dadurch in jedem Augenblicke seines Lebens zweierlei in sich. Erstens die ewigen Gesetze des Wahren und Guten und zweitens die Erinnerung an die Erlebnisse der Vergangenheit. Was er tut, das vollbringt er unter dem Einflusse dieser beiden Faktoren. Wollen wir einen Menschengeist verstehen, so müssen wir deshalb auch zweierlei von ihm wissen: erstens, wieviel von dem Ewigen sich ihm offenbart hat, und zweitens, wieviel Schätze aus der Vergangenheit in ihm liegen.
[ 6 ] Diese Schätze bleiben dem Geiste keineswegs in unveränderter Gestalt. Die Eindrücke, die der Mensch aus den Erlebnissen gewinnt, schwinden dem Gedächtnisse allmählich dahin. Nicht aber ihre Früchte. Man erinnert sich nicht aller Erlebnisse, die man in der Kindheit durchgemacht hat, während man sich die Kunst des Lesens und des Schreibens angeeignet hat. Aber man könnte nicht lesen und schreiben, wenn man diese Erlebnisse nicht gehabt hätte und ihre Früchte nicht bewahrt geblieben wären in Form von Fähigkeiten. Und das ist die Umwandlung, die der Geist mit den Gedächtnisschätzen vornimmt. Er überlässt, was zu Bildern der einzelnen Erlebnisse führen kann, seinem Schicksale und entnimmt ihm nur die Kraft zu einer Erhöhung seiner Fähigkeiten. So geht gewiss kein Erlebnis ungenützt vorüber: die Seele bewahrt es als Erinnerung, und der Geist saugt aus ihm dasjenige, was seine Fähigkeiten, seinen Lebensgehalt bereichern kann. Der Menschengeist wächst durch die verarbeiteten Erlebnisse. — Kann man also auch die vergangenen Erlebnisse im Geiste nicht wie in einer Sammelkammer aufbewahrt finden, man findet ihre Wirkungen in den Fähigkeiten, die sich der Mensch erworben hat.
[ 7 ] Bisher sind der Geist und die Seele nur betrachtet worden innerhalb der Grenzen, die zwischen Geburt und Tod liegen. Man kann dabei nicht stehen bleiben. Wer das tun wollte, der gliche dem, welcher auch den menschlichen Leib nur innerhalb derselben Grenzen betrachten wollte. Man kann gewiss vieles innerhalb dieser Grenzen finden. Aber man kann nimmermehr aus dem, was zwischen Geburt und Tod liegt, die menschliche Gestalt erklären. Diese kann sich nicht aus bloßen physischen Stoffen und Kräften unmittelbar auferbauen. Sie kann nur von einer ihr gleichen Gestalt abstammen, die sich auf Grund dessen ergibt, was sich fortgepflanzt hat. Die physischen Stoffe und Kräfte bauen den Leib während des Lebens auf: die Kräfte der Fortpflanzung lassen aus ihm einen andern hervorgehen, der seine Gestalt haben kann, also einen solchen, der Träger desselben Lebensleibes sein kann. — Jeder Lebensleib ist eine Wiederholung seines Vorfahren. Nur weil er dieses ist, erscheint er nicht in jeder beliebigen Gestalt, sondern in derjenigen, die ihm vererbt ist. Die Kräfte, die meine Menschengestalt möglich gemacht haben, lagen in meinen Vorfahren. Aber auch der Geist des Menschen erscheint in einer bestimmten Gestalt (wobei das Wort Gestalt natürlich geistig gemeint ist). Und die Gestalten des Geistes sind die denkbar verschiedensten bei den einzelnen Menschen. Nicht zwei Menschen haben die gleiche geistige Gestalt. Man muss auf diesem Gebiete nur ebenso ruhig und sachlich beobachten wie auf dem physischen. Man kann nicht sagen, die Verschiedenheiten der Menschen in geistiger Beziehung rühren allein von den Verschiedenheiten ihrer Umgebung, ihrer Erziehung und so weiter her. Nein, das ist durchaus nicht der Fall; denn zwei Menschen entwickeln sich unter den gleichen Einflüssen der Umgebung, der Erziehung und so weiter in ganz verschiedener Art. Deshalb muss man zugeben, dass sie mit ganz verschiedenen Anlagen ihren Lebensweg angetreten haben. — Hier steht man vor einer wichtigen Tatsache, die Licht ausbreitet über die Wesenheit des Menschen, wenn man ihre volle Tragweite erkennt. Wer seine Anschauung nur nach der Seite des materiellen Geschehens hin richten will, der könnte allerdings sagen, die individuellen Verschiedenheiten menschlicher Persönlichkeiten rühren von den Verschiedenheiten in der Beschaffenheit der stofflichen Keime her. (Und unter Berücksichtigung der von Gregor Mendel gefundenen und von andern weitergebildeten Vererbungsgesetze kann eine solche Ansicht vieles sagen, was ihr den Schein von Berechtigung auch vor dem wissenschaftlichen Urteil gibt.) Ein solcher Beurteiler zeigt aber nur, dass er keine Einsicht in das wirkliche Verhältnis des Menschen zu dessen Erleben hat. Denn die sachgemäße Beobachtung ergibt, dass die äußeren Umstände auf verschiedene Personen in verschiedener Art durch etwas wirken, das gar nicht unmittelbar mit der stofflichen Entwicklung in Wechselbeziehung tritt. Für den wirklich genauen Erforscher auf diesem Gebiete zeigt sich, dass, was aus den stofflichen Anlagen kommt, sich unterscheiden lässt von dem, was zwar durch Wechselwirkung des Menschen mit den Erlebnissen entsteht, aber nur dadurch sich gestalten kann, dass die Seele selbst diese Wechselwirkung eingeht. Die Seele steht da deutlich mit etwas innerhalb der Außenwelt in Beziehung, das, seinem Wesen nach, keinen Bezug zu stofflichen Keimanlagen haben kann.
[ 8 ] Durch ihre physische Gestalt unterscheiden sich die Menschen von ihren tierischen Mitgeschöpfen auf der Erde. Aber sie sind innerhalb gewisser Grenzen in bezug auf diese Gestalt untereinander gleich. Es gibt nur eine menschliche Gattung. Wie groß auch die Unterschiede der Rassen, Stämme, Völker und Persönlichkeiten sein mögen: in physischer Beziehung ist die Ähnlichkeit zwischen Mensch und Mensch größer als die zwischen dem Menschen und irgendeiner Tiergattung. Alles, was in der menschlichen Gattung sich ausprägt, wird bedingt durch die Vererbung von den Vorfahren auf die Nachkommen. Und die menschliche Gestalt ist an diese Vererbung gebunden. Wie der Löwe nur durch Löwenvorfahren, so kann der Mensch nur durch menschliche Vorfahren seine physische Gestalt erben.
[ 9 ] So wie die physische Ähnlichkeit der Menschen klar vor Augen liegt, so enthüllt sich dem vorurteilslosen geistigen Blicke die Verschiedenheit ihrer geistigen Gestalten. — Es gibt eine offen zutage liegende Tatsache, durch welche dies zum Ausdrucke kommt. Sie besteht in dem Vorhandensein der Biographie eines Menschen. Wäre der Mensch bloßes Gattungswesen, so könnte es keine Biographie geben. Ein Löwe, eine Taube nehmen das Interesse in Anspruch, insofern sie der Löwen-, der Taubenart angehören. Man hat das Einzelwesen in allem Wesentlichen verstanden, wenn man die Art beschrieben hat. Es kommt hier wenig darauf an, ob man es mit Vater, Sohn oder Enkel zu tun hat. Was bei ihnen interessiert, das haben eben Vater, Sohn und Enkel gemeinsam. Was der Mensch bedeutet, das aber fängt erst da an, wo er nicht bloß Art-, oder Gattungs-, sondern wo er Einzelwesen ist. Ich habe das Wesen des Herrn Schulze in Krähwinkel durchaus nicht begriffen, wenn ich seinen Sohn oder seinen Vater beschrieben habe. Ich muss seine eigene Biographie kennen. Wer über das Wesen der Biographie nachdenkt, der wird gewahr, dass in geistiger Beziehung jeder Mensch eine Gattung für sich ist. — Wer freilich Biographie bloß als eine äußerliche Zusammenstellung von Lebensereignissen fasst, der mag behaupten, dass er in demselben Sinne eine Hunde- wie eine Menschenbiographie schreiben könne. Wer aber in der Biographie die wirkliche Eigenart eines Menschen schildert, der begreift, dass er in ihr etwas hat, was im Tierreiche der Beschreibung einer ganzen Art entspricht. Nicht darauf kommt es an, dass man — was ja wirklich selbstverständlich ist — auch von einem Tiere — besonders von einem klugen — etwas Biographieartiges sagen kann, sondern darauf, dass die Menschenbiographie nicht dieser Tierbiographie, sondern der Beschreibung der tierischen Art entspricht. Es wird ja immer wieder Menschen geben, die das hier Gesagte damit werden widerlegen wollen, dass sie sagen, Menageriebesitzer zum Beispiel wissen, wie individuell einzelne Tiere derselben Gattung sich unterscheiden. Wer so urteilt, der zeigt aber nur, dass er individuelle Verschiedenheit nicht zu unterscheiden vermag von Verschiedenheit, die nur durch Individualität erworben sich zeigt.
[ 10 ] Wird nun die Art oder Gattung im physischen Sinne nur verständlich, wenn man sie in ihrer Bedingtheit durch die Vererbung begreift, so kann auch die geistige Wesenheit nur durch eine ähnliche geistige Vererbung verstanden werden. Meine physische Menschengestalt habe ich wegen meiner Abstammung von menschlichen Vorfahren. Woher habe ich dasjenige, was in meiner Biographie zum Ausdrucke kommt? Als physischer Mensch wiederhole ich die Gestalt meiner Vorfahren. Was wiederhole ich als geistiger Mensch? Wer behaupten will: dasjenige, was in meiner Biographie eingeschlossen ist, bedürfe keiner weiteren Erklärung, das müsse eben hingenommen werden, der soll nur auch gleich behaupten: er habe irgendwo einen Erdhügel gesehen, auf dem sich die Stoffklumpen ganz von selbst zu einem lebenden Menschen zusammengeballt haben.
[ 11 ] Als physischer Mensch stamme ich von anderen physischen Menschen ab, denn ich habe dieselbe Gestalt wie die ganze menschliche Gattung. Die Eigenschaften der Gattung konnten also innerhalb der Gattung durch Vererbung erworben werden. Als geistiger Mensch habe ich meine eigene Gestalt, wie ich meine eigene Biographie habe. Ich kann also diese Gestalt von niemand andern haben als von mir selbst. Und da ich nicht mit unbestimmten, sondern mit bestimmten seelischen Anlagen in die Welt eingetreten bin, da durch diese Anlagen mein Lebensweg, wie er in der Biographie zum Ausdruck kommt, bestimmt ist, so kann meine Arbeit an mir nicht bei meiner Geburt begonnen haben. Ich muss als geistiger Mensch vor meiner Geburt vorhanden gewesen sein. In meinen Vorfahren bin ich sicher nicht vorhanden gewesen, denn diese sind als geistige Menschen von mir verschieden. Meine Biographie ist nicht aus der ihrigen erklärbar Ich muss vielmehr als geistiges Wesen die Wiederholung eines solchen sein, aus dessen Biographie die Meinige erklärbar ist. Der andere zunächst denkbare Fall wäre der, dass ich die Ausgestaltung dessen, was Inhalt meiner Biographie ist, nur einem geistigen Leben vor der Geburt (beziehungsweise der Empfängnis) verdanke. Zu dieser Vorstellung hätte man aber nur Berechtigung, wenn man annehmen wollte, dass, was auf die Menschenseele aus dem physischen Umkreis herein wirkt, gleichartig sei mit dem, was die Seele aus einer nur geistigen Welt hat. Eine solche Annahme widerspricht der wirklich genauen Beobachtung. Denn was aus dieser physischen Umgebung bestimmend für die Menschenseele ist, das ist so, dass es wirkt wie ein später im physischen Leben Erfahrenes auf ein in gleicher Art früher Erfahrenes. Um diese Verhältnisse richtig zu beobachten, muss man sich den Blick dafür aneignen, wie es im Menschenleben wirksame Eindrücke gibt, die so auf die Anlagen der Seele wirken wie das Stehen vor einer zu verrichtenden Tat gegenüber dem, was man im physischen Leben schon geübt hat; nur dass solche Eindrücke eben nicht auf ein in diesem unmittelbaren Leben schon Geübtes auftreffen, sondern auf Seelenanlagen, die sich so beeindrucken lassen wie die durch Übung erworbenen Fähigkeiten. Wer diese Dinge durchschaut, der kommt zu der Vorstellung von Erdenleben, die dem gegenwärtigen vorangegangen sein müssen. Er kann denkend nicht bei rein geistigen Erlebnissen vor diesem Erdenleben stehenbleiben. — die physische Gestalt, die Schiller an sich getragen hat, die hat er von seinen Vorfahren ererbt. Sowenig aber diese physische Gestalt aus der Erde gewachsen sein kann, sowenig kann es die geistige Wesenheit Schillers sein. Er muss die Wiederholung einer andern geistigen Wesenheit sein, aus deren Biographie die Seinige erklärbar wird, wie die physische Menschengestalt Schillers durch menschliche Fortpflanzung erklärbar ist. — So wie also die physische Menschengestalt immer wie-der und wieder eine Wiederholung, eine Wiederverkörperung der menschlichen Gattungswesenheit ist, so muss der geistige Mensch eine Wiederverkörperung desselben geistigen Menschen sein. Denn als geistiger Mensch ist eben jeder eine eigene Gattung.
[ 12 ] Man kann gegen das hier Gesagte einwenden: das seien reine Gedankenausführungen; und man kann äußere Beweise verlangen, wie man sie von der gewöhnlichen Naturwissenschaft her gewohnt ist. Dagegen muss gesagt werden, dass die Wiederverkörperung des geistigen Menschen doch ein Vorgang ist, der nicht dem Felde äußerer physischer Tatsachen angehört, sondern ein solcher, der sich ganz im geistigen Felde abspielt. Und zu diesem Felde hat keine andere unserer gewöhnlichen Geisteskräfte Zutritt als allein das Denken. Wer der Kraft des Denkens nicht vertrauen will, der kann sich über höhere geistige Tatsachen eben nicht aufklären. — Für denjenigen, dessen geistiges Auge erschlossen ist, wirken die obigen Gedankengänge genau mit derselben Kraft, wie ein Vorgang wirkt, der sich vor seinem physischen Auge abspielt. Wer einem sogenannten «Beweise», der nach der Methode der gewöhnlichen naturwissen-schaftlichen Erkenntnis aufgebaut ist, mehr Überzeugungskraft zugesteht als den obigen Ausführungen über die Bedeutung der Biographie, der mag im gewöhnlichen Wortsinn ein großer Wissenschaftler sein: von den Wegen der echt geistigen Forschung ist er aber sehr weit entfernt.
[ 13 ] Es gehört zu den bedenklichsten Vorurteilen, wenn man die geistigen Eigenschaften eines Menschen durch Vererbung von Vater oder Mutter oder anderen Vorfahren erklären will. Wer sich des Vorurteils schuldig macht, dass zum Beispiel Goethe das, was sein Wesen ausmacht, von Vater und Mutter ererbt habe, dem wird auch zunächst kaum mit Gründen beizukommen sein, denn in ihm liegt eine tiefe Antipathie gegen vorurteilslose Beobachtung. Eine materialistische Suggestion hindert ihn, die Zusammenhänge der Erscheinungen im rechten Lichte zu sehen.
[ 14 ] In solchen Ausführungen sind die Voraussetzungen gegeben, um die menschliche Wesenheit über Geburt und Tod hinaus zu verfolgen. Innerhalb der durch Geburt und Tod bestimmten Grenzen gehört der Mensch den drei Welten, der Leiblichkeit, dem Seelischen und dem Geistigen, an. Die Seele bildet das Mittelglied zwischen Leib und Geist, indem sie das dritte Glied des Leibes, den Seelenleib, mit der Empfindungsfähigkeit durchdringt und indem sie das erste Glied des Geistes, das Geistselbst, als Bewusstseinsseele durchsetzt. Sie hat dadurch während des Lebens Anteil an dem Leibe sowohl wie an dem Geiste. Dieser Anteil kommt in ihrem ganzen Dasein zum Ausdruck. Von der Organisation des Seelenleibes wird es abhängen, wie die Empfindungsseele ihre Fähigkeiten entfalten kann. Und von dem Leben der Bewusstseinsseele wird es andererseits abhängig sein, wie weit das Geistselbst in ihr sich entwickeln kann. Die Empfindungsseele wird einen um so besseren Verkehr mit der Außenwelt entfalten, je wohlgebildeter der Seelenleib ist. Und das Geistselbst wird um so reicher, machtvoller werden, je mehr ihm die Bewusstseinsseele Nahrung zuführt. Es ist gezeigt worden, dass während des Lebens durch die verarbeiteten Erlebnisse und die Früchte dieser Erlebnisse dem Geistselbst diese Nahrung zugeführt wird. Denn die dargelegte Wechselwirkung zwischen Seele und Geist kann natürlich nur da geschehen, wo Seele und Geist ineinander befindlich, voneinander durchdrungen sind, also innerhalb der Verbindung von «Geistselbst mit Bewusstseinsseele».
[ 15 ] Es sei zuerst die Wechselwirkung von Seelenleib und Empfindungsseele betrachtet. Der Seelenleib ist, wie sich ergeben bat, zwar die feinste Ausgestaltung der Leiblichkeit, aber er gehört doch zu dieser und ist von ihr abhängig. Physischer Körper, Ätherleib und Seelenleib machen in gewisser Beziehung ein Ganzes aus. Daher ist auch der Seelenleib in die Gesetze der physischen Vererbung, durch die der Leib seine Gestalt erhält, mit einbezogen. Und da er die beweglichste, gleichsam flüchtigste Form der Leiblichkeit ist, so muss er auch die beweglichsten und flüchtigsten Erscheinungen der Vererbung zeigen. Während daher der physische Leib nur nach Rassen, Völkern, Stämmen am wenigsten verschieden ist und der Ätherleib zwar eine größere Abweichung für die einzelnen Menschen, aber doch noch eine überwiegende Gleichheit aufweist, ist diese Verschiedenheit beim Seelenleib schon eine sehr große. In ihm kommt zum Ausdruck, was man schon als äußere, persönliche Eigenart des Menschen empfindet. Er ist daher auch der Träger dessen, was sich von dieser persönlichen Eigenart von den Eltern, Großeltern und so weiter auf die Nachkommen vererbt. — Zwar führt die Seele als solche, wie auseinandergesetzt worden ist, ein vollkommenes Eigenleben; sie schließt sich mit ihren Neigungen und Abneigungen, mit ihren Gefühlen und Leidenschaften in sich selbst ab. Aber sie ist doch als Ganzes wirksam, und deshalb kommt auch in der Empfindungsseele dieses Ganze zur Ausprägung. Und weil die Empfindungsseele den Seelenleib durchdringt, gleichsam ausfüllt, so formt sich dieser nach der Natur der Seele, und er kann dann als Vererbungsträger die Neigungen, Leidenschaften und so weiter von den Vorfahren auf die Nachkommen übertragen. Auf dieser Tatsache beruht, was Goethe sagt: «Vom Vater hab' ich die Statur, des Lebens ernstes Führen; vom Mütterchen die Frohnatur und Lust zu fabulieren.» Das Genie hat er natürlich von beiden nicht. Auf diese Art zeigt sich uns, was der Mensch von seinen seelischen Eigenschaften an die Linie der physischen Vererbung gleichsam abgibt. Die Stoffe und Kräfte des physischen Körpers sind in gleicher Art auch in dem ganzen Umkreis der äußeren physischen Natur. Sie werden von da fortwährend aufgenommen und an sie wieder abgegeben. Innerhalb einiger Jahre erneuert sich die Stoffmasse, die unsern physischen Körper zusammensetzt, vollständig. Dass diese Stoffmasse die Form des menschlichen Körpers annimmt und dass sie innerhalb dieses Körpers sich immer wieder erneuert, das hängt davon ab, dass sie von dem Ätherleib zusammengehalten wird. Und dessen Form ist nicht allein durch die Vorgänge zwischen Geburt — oder Empfängnis — und Tod bestimmt, sondern sie ist von den Gesetzen der Vererbung abhängig, die über Geburt und Tod hinausreichen. Dass auf dem Wege der Vererbung auch seelische Eigenschaften übertragen werden können, also der Fortgang der physischen Vererbung einen seelischen Einschlag erlangt, das hat seinen Grund darin, dass der Seelenleib von der Empfindungsseele beeinflusst werden kann.
[ 16 ] Wie gestaltet sich nun die Wechselwirkung zwischen Seele und Geist? Während des Lebens ist der Geist in der oben angegebenen Art mit der Seele verbunden. Diese empfängt von ihm die Gabe, in dem Wahren und Guten zu leben und dadurch in ihrem Eigenleben, in ihren Neigungen, Trieben und Leidenschaften den Geist selbst zum Ausdruck zu bringen. Das Geistselbst bringt dem «Ich» aus der Welt des Geistes die ewigen Gesetze des Wahren und Guten. Diese verknüpfen sich durch die Bewusstseins-Seele mit den Erlebnissen des seelischen Eigenlebens. Diese Erlebnisse selbst gehen vorüber. Aber ihre Früchte bleiben. Dass das Geistselbst mit ihnen verknüpft war, macht einen bleibenden Eindruck auf dasselbe. Tritt der menschliche Geist an ein solches Erlebnis heran, das einem andern ähnlich ist, mit dem es schon einmal verknüpft war, so sieht er in ihm etwas Bekanntes und weiß sich ihm gegenüber anders zu verhalten, als wenn es zum erstenmal ihm gegenüberstände. Darauf beruht ja alles Lernen. Und die Früchte des Lernens sind angeeignete Fähigkeiten. — Dem ewigen Geiste werden auf diese Art Früchte des vorübergehenden Lebens eingeprägt. — Und nehmen wir nicht diese Früchte wahr? Worauf beruhen die Anlagen, die als das Charakteristische des geistigen Menschen oben dargelegt worden sind? Doch nur in Fähigkeiten zu diesem oder jenem, die der Mensch mitbringt, wenn er seinen irdischen Lebensweg beginnt. Es gleichen in gewisser Beziehung diese Fähigkeiten durchaus solchen, die wir uns auch während des Lebens aneignen können. Man nehme das Genie eines Menschen. Von Mozart ist bekannt, dass er als Knabe ein einmal gehörtes langes musikalisches Kunstwerk aus dem Gedächtnisse aufschreiben konnte. Er war dazu nur fähig, weil er das Ganze auf einmal überschauen konnte. Innerhalb gewisser Grenzen erweitert der Mensch auch während des Lebens seine Fähigkeit, zu überschauen, Zusammenhänge zu durchdringen, so dass er dann neue Fähigkeiten besitzt. Lessing hat doch von sich gesagt, dass er sich durch kritische Beobachtungsgabe etwas angeeignet habe, was dem Genie nahekommt. Will man solche Fähigkeiten, die in Anlagen begründet sind, nicht als Wunder anstaunen, so muss man sie für Früchte von Erlebnissen halten, die das Geistselbst durch eine Seele gehabt hat. Sie sind diesem Geistselbst eingeprägt worden. Und da sie nicht in diesem Leben eingepflanzt worden sind, so in einem früheren. Der menschliche Geist ist seine eigene Gattung. Und wie der Mensch als physisches Gattungswesen seine Eigenschaften innerhalb der Gattung vererbt, so der Geist innerhalb seiner Gattung, das heißt innerhalb seiner selbst. In einem Leben erscheint der menschliche Geist als Wiederholung seiner selbst mit den Früchten seiner vorigen Erlebnisse in vorhergehenden Lebensläufen. Dieses Leben ist somit die Wiederholung von andern und bringt mit sich, was das Geistselbst in dem vorigen Leben sich erarbeitet hat. Wenn dieses in sich etwas aufnimmt, was Frucht werden kann, so durchdringt es sich mit dem Lebensgeist. Wie der Lebensleib die Form von Art zu Art wiederholt, so der Lebensgeist die Seele vom persönlichen Dasein zu persönlichem Dasein.
[ 17 ] Durch die vorangehenden Betrachtungen wird die Vorstellung in den Bereich der Gültigkeit erhoben, die den Grund für gewisse Lebensvorgänge des Menschen in wiederholten Erdenleben sucht. Ihre volle Bedeutung kann diese Vorstellung wohl nur erhalten durch eine Beobachtung, die aus geistigen Einsichten entspringt, wie sie durch das Betreten des am Schlusse dieses Buches beschriebenen Erkenntnispfades erworben werden. Hier sollte nur gezeigt werden, dass eine durch das Denken recht orientierte gewöhnliche Beobachtung schon zu dieser Vorstellung führt. Eine solche Beobachtung wird zunächst allerdings die Vorstellung gewissermaßen silhouettenhaft lassen. Und sie wird sie nicht ganz bewahren können vor den Einwürfen einer nicht genauen, von dem Denken nicht richtig geleiteten Beobachtung. Aber andererseits ist richtig, dass, wer sich eine solche Vorstellung durch gewöhnlich denkende Beobachtung erwirbt, sich bereitmacht zur übersinnlichen Beobachtung. Er bildet gewissermaßen etwas aus, was man haben muss vor dieser übersinnlichen Beobachtung, wie man das Auge haben muss vor der sinnlichen Beobachtung. Wer einwendet, dass man sich ja durch Bildung einer solchen Vorstellung die übersinnliche Beobachtung selbst suggerieren könne, der beweist nur, dass er nicht in freiem Denken auf die Wirklichkeit einzugehen vermag und dass gerade er sich dadurch seine Einwände selbst suggeriert.
[ 18 ] So werden die seelischen Erlebnisse dauernd nicht nur innerhalb der Grenzen von Geburt und Tod, sondern über den Tod hinaus bewahrt. Aber nicht nur dem Geiste, der in ihr aufleuchtet, prägt die Seele ihre Erlebnisse ein, sondern wie (Seite 62) gezeigt worden ist, auch der äußeren Welt durch die Tat. Was der Mensch gestern verrichtet hat, ist heute noch in seiner Wirkung vorhanden. Ein Bild des Zusammenhanges von Ursache und Wirkung in dieser Richtung gibt das Gleichnis von Schlaf und Tod. — Oft ist der Schlaf der jüngere Bruder des Todes genannt worden. Ich stehe des Morgens auf. Meine fortlaufende Tätigkeit war durch die Nacht unterbrochen. Es ist nun unter gewöhnlichen Verhältnissen nicht möglich, dass ich des Morgens meine Tätigkeit in beliebiger Weise wieder aufnehme. Ich muss an mein Tun von gestern anknüpfen, wenn Ordnung und Zusammenhang in meinem Leben sein soll. Meine Taten von gestern sind die Vorbedingungen derjenigen, die mir heute obliegen. Ich habe mir mit dem, was ich gestern vollbracht habe, für heute mein Schicksal geschaffen. Ich habe mich eine Weile von meiner Tätigkeit getrennt; aber diese Tätigkeit gehört zu mir und sie zieht mich wieder zu sich, nachdem ich mich eine Weile von ihr zurückgezogen habe. Meine Vergangenheit bleibt mit mir verbunden; sie lebt in meiner Gegenwart weiter und wird mir in meine Zukunft folgen. Nicht erwachen müsste ich heute morgen, sondern neu, aus dem Nichts heraus geschaffen werden, wenn die Wirkungen meiner Taten von gestern nicht mein Schicksal von heute sein sollten. Sinnlos wäre es doch, wenn ich unter regelmäßigen Verhältnissen ein Haus, das ich mir habe bauen lassen, nicht beziehen würde.
[ 19 ] Ebensowenig wie der Mensch am Morgen neugeschaffen ist, ebensowenig ist es der Menschengeist, wenn er seinen irdischen Lebensweg beginnt. Man versuche sich klarzumachen, was bei dem Betreten dieses Lebensweges geschieht. Ein physischer Leib tritt auf, der seine Gestalt durch die Gesetze der Vererbung erhält. Dieser Leib wird der Träger eines Geistes, der ein früheres Leben in neuer Gestalt wiederholt. Zwischen beiden steht die Seele, die ein in sich geschlossenes Eigenleben führt. Ihre Neigungen und Abneigungen, ihre Wünsche und Begierden dienen ihr; sie stellt das Denken in ihren Dienst. Sie empfängt als Empfindungsseele die Eindrücke der Außenwelt; und sie trägt sie dem Geiste zu, auf dass er die Früchte daraus sauge für die Dauer. Sie hat gleichsam eine Vermittlerrolle, und ihre Aufgabe ist erfüllt, wenn sie dieser Rolle genügt. Der Leib formt ihr die Eindrücke; sie gestaltet sie zu Empfindungen um, bewahrt sie im Gedächtnisse als Vorstellungen und gibt sie an den Geist ab, auf dass er sie durch die Dauer trage. Die Seele ist eigentlich das, wodurch der Mensch seinem irdischen Lebenslauf angehört. Durch seinen Leib gehört er der physischen Menschengattung an. Durch ihn ist er ein Glied dieser Gattung. Mit seinem Geiste lebt er in einer höheren Welt. Die Seele bindet zeitweilig beide Welten aneinander.
[ 20 ] Aber die physische Welt, die der Menschengeist betritt, ist ihm kein fremder Schauplatz. In ihr sind die Spuren seiner Taten eingeprägt. Es gehört von diesem Schauplatz etwas zu ihm. Das trägt das Gepräge seines Wesens. Es ist verwandt mit ihm. Wie die Seele einst die Eindrücke der Außenwelt ihm übermittelt hat, auf dass sie ihm dauernd werden, so hat sie, als sein Organ, die ihr von ihm verliehenen Fähigkeiten in Taten umgesetzt, die in ihren Wirkungen ebenfalls dauernd sind. Dadurch ist die Seele in diese Taten tatsächlich eingeflossen. In den Wirkungen seiner Taten lebt des Menschen Seele ein zweites selbständiges Leben weiter. Dies aber kann die Veranlassung dazu geben, das Leben daraufhin anzusehen, wie die Schicksals-Vorgänge in dieses Leben eintreten. Etwas «stößt» dem Menschen zu. Er ist wohl zunächst geneigt, ein solch «Zustoßendes» wie ein «zufällig» in sein Leben Eintretendes zu betrachten. Allein er kann gewahr werden, wie er selbst das Ergebnis solcher «Zufälle» ist. Wer sich in seinem vierzigsten Lebensjahre betrachtet und mit der Frage nach seinem Seelenwesen nicht bei einer wesenlos abstrakten Ich-Vorstellung stehenbleiben will, der darf sich sagen: ich bin ja gar nichts anderes, als was ich geworden bin durch dasjenige, was mir bis heute schicksalsmäßig «zugestoßen» ist. Wäre ich nicht ein anderes, wenn ich zum Beispiel mit zwanzig Jahren eine bestimmte Reihe von Erlebnissen gehabt hätte statt derjenigen, die mich getroffen haben? Er wird dann sein «Ich» nicht nur in seinen von «innen» heraus kommenden Entwicklungsimpulsen suchen, sondern in dem, was «von außen» gestaltend in sein Leben eingreift. In dem, was «ihm geschieht», wird er das eigene Ich erkennen. Gibt man sich solch einer Erkenntnis unbefangen hin, dann ist nur ein weiterer Schritt wirklich intimer Beobachtung des Lebens dazu nötig, um in dem, was einem durch gewisse Schicksalserlebnisse zufließt, etwas zu sehen, was das Ich von außen so ergreift, wie die Erinnerung von innen wirkt, um ein vergangenes Erlebnis wieder aufleuchten zu lassen. Man kann sich so geeignet dazu machen, in dem Schicksalserlebnis wahrzunehmen, wie eine frühere Tat der Seele den Weg zu dem Ich nimmt, so wie in der Erinnerung ein früheres Erlebnis den Weg zur Vorstellung nimmt, wenn eine äußere Veranlassung dazu da ist. Es wurde früher als von einer «möglichen» Vorstellung gesprochen, dass die Folgen der Tat die Menschenseele wieder treffen können (vergleiche Seite 64 ff.). Innerhalb des einzelnen Erdenlebens ist für gewisse Tatfolgen deshalb ein solches Treffen ausgeschlossen, weil dieses Erdenleben dazu veranlagt war, die Tat zu vollbringen. Da liegt in dem Vollbringen das Erleben. Eine gewisse Folge der Tat kann da die Seele so wenig treffen, wie man sich an ein Erlebnis erinnern kann, in dem man noch darinnen steht. Es kann sich in dieser Beziehung nur handeln um ein Erleben von Tatfolgen, welche das «Ich» nicht mit den Anlagen treffen, die es in dem Erdenleben hat, aus dem heraus es die Tat verrichtet. Es kann der Blick nur auf Tatfolgen aus anderen Erdenleben sich richten. So kann man — sobald man empfindet: was als Schicksalserlebnis scheinbar einem «zustößt», ist verbunden mit dem Ich, wie das, was «aus dem Innern» dieses Ich selbst sich bildet — nur denken, man habe es in einem solchen Schicksalserlebnis mit Tatfolgen aus früheren Erdenleben zu tun. Man sieht, zu der für das gewöhnliche Bewusstsein paradoxen Annahme, die Schicksalserlebnisse eines Erdenlebens hängen mit den Taten vorangehender Erdenleben zusammen, wird man durch eine intime, vom Denken geleitete Lebenserfassung geführt. Wieder kann diese Vorstellung nur durch die übersinnliche Erkenntnis ihren Vollgehalt bekommen: ohne diese bleibt sie silhouettenhaft. Aber wieder bereitet sie, aus dem gewöhnlichen Bewusstsein gewonnen, die Seele vor, damit diese ihre Wahrheit in wirklich übersinnlicher Beobachtung schauen kann.
[ 21 ] Nur der eine Teil meiner Tat ist in der Außenwelt; der andere ist in mir selbst. Man mache sich durch einen einfachen Vergleich aus der Naturwissenschaft dieses Verhältnis von Ich und Tat klar. Tiere, die einmal als Sehende in die Höhlen von Kentucky eingewandert sind, haben durch das Leben in denselben ihr Sehvermögen verloren. Der Aufenthalt im Finstern hat die Augen außer Tätigkeit gesetzt. In diesen Augen wird dadurch nicht mehr die physische und chemische Tätigkeit verrichtet, die während des Sehens vor sich geht. Der Strom der Nahrung, der für diese Tätigkeit früher verwendet worden ist, fließt nunmehr anderen Organen zu. Nun können diese Tiere nur in diesen Höhlen leben. Sie haben durch ihre Tat, durch die Einwanderung, die Bedingungen ihres späteren Lebens geschaffen. Die Einwanderung ist zu einem Teil ihres Schicksals geworden. Eine Wesenheit, die einmal tätig war, hat sich mit den Ergebnissen der Taten verknüpft. So ist es mit dem Menschengeiste. Die Seele hat ihm gewisse Fähigkeiten nur vermitteln können, indem sie tätig war. Und entsprechend den Taten sind diese Fähigkeiten. Durch eine Tat, welche die Seele verrichtet hat, lebt in ihr die krafterfüllte Anlage, eine andere Tat zu verrichten, welche die Frucht dieser Tat ist die Seele trägt dieses als Notwendigkeit in sich, bis die letztere Tat geschehen ist. Man kann auch sagen, durch eine Tat ist der Seele die Notwendigkeit eingeprägt, die Folge dieser Tat zu verrichten.
[ 22 ] Mit seinen Taten hat der Menschengeist wirklich sein Schicksal bereitet. An das, was er in seinem vorigen Leben getan hat, findet er sich in einem neuen geknüpft. — Man kann ja die Frage aufwerfen: wie kann das sein, da doch wohl der Menschengeist bei seiner Wiederverkörperung in eine völlig andere Welt versetzt wird, als diejenige war, die er einstens verlassen hat? Dieser Frage liegt eine seht am Äußerlichen des Lebens haftende Vorstellung von Schicksalsverkettung zugrunde. Wenn ich meinen Schauplatz von Europa nach Amerika verlege, so befinde ich mich auch in einer völlig neuen Umgebung. Und dennoch hängt mein Leben in Amerika ganz von meinem vorhergehenden in Europa ab. Bin ich in Europa Mechaniker geworden, so gestaltet sich mein Leben in Amerika ganz anders, als wenn ich Bankbeamter geworden wäre. In dem einen Falle werde ich wahrscheinlich in Amerika von Maschinen, in dem andern von Bank-Einrichtungen umgeben sein. In jedem Falle bestimmt mein Vorleben meine Umgebung; es zieht gleichsam aus der ganzen Umwelt diejenigen Dinge an sich, die ihm verwandt sind. So ist es mit dem Geistselbst. Es umgibt sich in einem neuen Leben notwendig mit demjenigen, mit dem es aus den vorhergehenden Leben verwandt ist. — Und deswegen ist der Schlaf ein brauchbares Bild für den Tod, weil der Mensch während des Schlafes dem Schauplatz entzogen ist, auf dem sein Schicksal ihn erwartet. Während man schläft, laufen die Ereignisse auf diesem Schauplatz weiter. Man hat eine Zeitlang auf diesen Lauf keinen Einfluss. Dennoch hängt unser Leben an einem neuen Tage von den Wirkungen der Taten am vorigen Tage ab. Wirklich verkörpert sich unsere Persönlichkeit jeden Morgen aufs neue in unserer Tatenwelt. Was während der Nacht von uns getrennt war, ist tagsüber gleichsam um uns gelegt. — So ist es mit den Taten der früheren Verkörperungen des Menschen. Sie sind mit ihm als sein Schicksal verbunden, wie das Leben in den finstern Höhlen mit den Tieren verbunden bleibt, die durch Einwanderung in diese Höhlen das Sehvermögen verloren haben. Wie diese Tiere nur leben können, wenn sie sich in der Umgebung befinden, in die sie sich selbst versetzt haben, so kann der Menschengeist nur in der Umwelt leben, die er sich durch seine Taten selbst geschaffen hat. Dass ich am Morgen die Lage vorfinde, die ich am vorhergehenden Tage selbst geschaffen, dafür sorgt der unmittelbare Gang der Ereignisse. Dass ich, wenn ich mich wieder verkörpere, eine Umwelt vorfinde, die dem Ergebnis meiner Taten aus dem vorhergehenden Leben entspricht, dafür sorgt die Verwandtschaft meines wieder verkörperten Geistes mit den Dingen der Umwelt. Man kann sich danach eine Vorstellung davon bilden, wie die Seele dem Wesen des Menschen eingegliedert ist. Der physische Leib unterliegt den Gesetzen der Vererbung. Der Menschengeist dagegen muss sich immer wieder und wieder verkörpern; und sein Gesetz besteht darin, dass er die Früchte der vorigen Leben in die folgenden hinübernimmt. Die Seele lebt in der Gegenwart. Aber dieses Leben in der Gegenwart ist nicht unabhängig von den vorhergehenden Leben. Der sich verkörpernde Geist bringt ja aus seinen vorigen Verkörperungen sein Schicksal mit. Und dieses Schicksal bestimmt das Leben. Welche Eindrücke die Seele wird haben können, welche Wünsche ihr werden befriedigt werden können, welche Freuden und Leiden ihr erwachsen, mit welchen Menschen sie zusammenkommen wird: das hängt davon ab, wie die Taten in den vorhergehenden Verkörperungen des Geistes waren. Menschen, mit welchen die Seele in einem Leben verbunden war, wird sie in einem folgenden wiederfinden müssen, weil die Taten, welche zwischen ihnen gewesen sind, ihre Folgen haben müssen. Wie die eine Seele, werden auch die mit dieser verbundenen in derselben Zeit ihre Wiederverkörperung anstreben. Das Leben der Seele ist somit ein Ergebnis des selbstgeschaffenen Schicksals des Menschengeistes. Dreierlei bedingt den Lebenslauf eines Menschen innerhalb von Geburt und Tod. Und dreifach ist er dadurch abhängig von Faktoren, die jenseits von Geburt und Tod liegen. Der Leib unterliegt dem Gesetz der Vererbung; die Seele unterliegt dem selbstgeschaffenen Schicksal. Man nennt dieses von dem Menschen geschaffene Schicksal mit einem alten Ausdrucke sein Karma. Und der Geist steht unter dem Gesetze der Wiederverkörperung, der wiederholten Erdenleben. — Man kann demnach das Verhältnis von Geist, Seele und Körper auch so ausdrücken: Unvergänglich ist der Geist; Geburt und Tod walten nach den Gesetzen der physischen Welt in der Körperlichkeit; das Seelenleben, das dem Schicksal unterliegt, vermittelt den Zusammenhang von beiden während eines irdischen Lebenslaufes. Alle weiteren Erkenntnisse über das Wesen des Menschen setzen die Bekanntschaft mit den «drei Welten» selbst voraus, denen er angehört. Von diesen soll das Folgende handeln.
[ 23 ] Ein Denken, welches den Erscheinungen des Lebens sich gegenüberstellt und das sich nicht scheut, die sich aus einer lebensvollen Betrachtung ergebenden Gedanken bis in ihre letzten Glieder zu verfolgen, kann durch die bloße Logik zu der Vorstellung von den wiederholten Erdenleben und dem Gesetze des Schicksals kommen. So wahr es ist, dass dem Seher mit dem geöffneten «geistigen Auge» die vergangenen Leben wie ein aufgeschlagenes Buch als Erlebnis vorliegen, so wahr ist es, dass die Wahrheit von alledem der betrachtenden Vernunft aufleuchten kann. 1Man vergleiche das hierzu am Ende des Buches unter «Einzelne Bemerkungen und Ergänzungen», S. 199f, Gesagte.
Reincarnation of the spirit and fate
(Reincarnation and karma)
[ 1 ] The soul lives in the middle between body and spirit. The impressions it receives through the body are temporary. They are only present as long as the body opens its organs to the things of the outside world. My eye perceives the color of the rose only as long as the rose is in front of it and it itself is open. The presence of the thing in the outside world as well as that of the bodily organ are necessary for an impression, a sensation or perception to come about. But what I have recognized in the spirit as the truth about the rose does not pass with the present. And its truth is not at all dependent on me. It would be true even if I had never come face to face with the rose. What I recognize through the spirit is founded in an element of the life of the soul, through which the soul is connected with a world content that reveals itself in it independently of its transient bodily foundations. It is not a question of whether the revelation itself is everywhere imperishable, but of whether the revelation for the soul happens in such a way that not its perishable bodily basis comes into consideration, but that which in it is independent of this perishable. That which is permanent in the soul is placed under observation at the moment one becomes aware that there are experiences which are not limited by their transient nature. Nor is it a question of whether these experiences first become conscious through transient activities of the body's organization, but rather that they contain something that lives in the soul but is nevertheless independent in its truth from the transient process of perception. The soul is placed between presence and duration by holding the middle ground between body and spirit. But it also mediates presence and duration. It preserves the present for memory. In doing so, it snatches it from transience and incorporates it into the duration of its spirituality. It also imprints the permanent on the transient by not only surrendering to temporary stimuli in its life, but by determining things of its own accord, incorporating their essence into the actions it performs. Through memory, the soul preserves yesterday; through action, it prepares for tomorrow.
[ 2 ] My soul would always have to perceive the red of the rose anew in order to have it in consciousness if it could not retain it through memory. That which remains after the external impression, that which can be retained by the soul, can become perception again independently of the external impression. Through this gift, the soul makes the outer world into its own inner world in such a way that it can then retain it through memory - for the memory - and continue to lead its own life with it independently of the impressions gained. The life of the soul thus becomes the permanent effect of the transient impressions of the outside world. But the action also becomes permanent once it has been imprinted on the outside world. If I cut a branch from a tree, something has happened through my soul that completely changes the course of events in the outside world. Something completely different would have happened to the branch on the tree if I had not intervened. I have brought into being a series of effects that would not have existed without my presence. What I have done today will last for tomorrow. It becomes permanent through action, just as my impressions of yesterday have become permanent for my soul through memory.
[ 3 ] For this becoming permanent through the deed, one does not form an idea in ordinary consciousness in the same way as the one one has for "memory", for the becoming permanent of an experience that takes place on the basis of a perception. But is not the "I" of the human being connected with the change that has taken place in the world through his deed in the same way as with the memory that arises from an impression? The "I" judges new impressions differently depending on whether or not it has one or the other memory. But it has also entered into a different connection with the world as an "I", depending on whether or not it has performed one or the other action. Whether or not I have made an impression on another person through an act depends on whether or not something is present in the relationship of the world to my "I". I am a different person in my relationship to the world after I have made an impression on my surroundings. The fact that what is meant here is not noticed in the same way as the change of the "I" through the acquisition of a memory, is solely due to the fact that the memory, as soon as it is formed, connects itself with the life of the soul that one has always felt to be one's own; the external effect of the deed, however, proceeds, detached from this life of the soul, in consequences that are still something other than what one retains of it in memory. Nevertheless, one should admit that, after an accomplished deed, there is something in the world on which its character is imprinted by the "I". If we really think through what we are considering here, we will come to the question: Could it not be that the consequences of an accomplished deed, on which its nature is imprinted by the "I", receive a tendency to rejoin the I, just as an impression preserved in memory revives when an external occasion arises? That which is preserved in memory awaits such an occasion. Could not that which is preserved in the outer world with the ego-character also wait to approach the human soul from the outside in the same way as the memory approaches this soul from within when the occasion arises? Here this matter is only put forward as a question: for, certainly, it could be that the occasion would never arise for the consequences of an act, which are tainted with the ego-character, to affect the human soul. But that they are present as such and that their presence determines the relationship of the world to the ego, that immediately appears as a possible idea, if one pursues what is present in thought. In the following considerations, we will examine whether there is something in human life that points to a reality from this "possible" idea.
[ 4 ] First, let us consider memory. How does it come about? Obviously in a completely different way than sensation or perception. Without the eye, I cannot have the sensation of "blue". But through the eye I do not yet have the memory of the "blue". If the eye is now to give me this sensation, a blue thing must confront it. Physicality would always allow all impressions to sink back into nothingness if, through the act of perception, the present conception were not formed, and at the same time something took place in the relationship between the outer world and the soul which has such a consequence in man that he can later, through processes within himself, again have a conception of that which formerly caused a conception from without. Anyone who has practiced mental observation will find that the expression is quite wrong which is based on the opinion that one has an idea today and tomorrow this idea reappears through the memory after it has been somewhere in the person in the meantime. No, the idea I have now is a phenomenon that passes with the "now". When memory occurs, a process takes place in me that is the consequence of something that has taken place in the relationship between the outside world and me apart from the evocation of the present idea. The idea evoked by the memory is a new one and not the retained old one. Memory consists in the fact that it is possible to imagine again, not that an idea can be revived. What reappears is something other than the imagination itself. (This remark is made here because in the field of spiritual science it is necessary to form more precise ideas about certain things than in ordinary life and even in ordinary science). - I remember, that is, I experience something that is no longer there. I connect a past experience with my present life. It is the same with every memory. Suppose I meet a person and recognize him because I met him yesterday. He would be a complete stranger to me if I couldn't connect the image I formed of him yesterday with my impression of him today. Today's image is given to me by my perception, i.e. my sensory organization. But who conjures up yesterday's image in my soul? It is the same being in me that was present in my experience yesterday and that is also present in today's experience. It was called the soul in the previous explanations. Without this faithful keeper of the past, every external impression would always be new for the human being. It is certain that the soul imprints the process by which something becomes memory on the body as if by a sign; but it is the soul that must make this imprint and then perceive its own imprint, just as it perceives something external. Thus it is the keeper of memory.
[ 5 ] As the keeper of the past, the soul continually collects treasures for the spirit. The fact that I can distinguish what is right from what is wrong depends on the fact that I, as a human being, am a thinking being who is able to grasp the truth in the spirit. The truth is eternal; and it could reveal itself to me again and again in things, even if I were to lose sight of the past again and again and every impression would be a new one for me. But the spirit in me is not limited to the impressions of the present alone; the soul expands its circle of vision over the past. And the more it is able to add to it from the past, the richer it makes it. Thus the soul passes on to the spirit what it has received from the body. - The human spirit thus carries two things within it at every moment of its life. Firstly, the eternal laws of truth and goodness and secondly, the memory of past experiences. What he does, he accomplishes under the influence of these two factors. If we want to understand a human spirit, we must therefore also know two things about it: firstly, how much of the eternal has been revealed to it, and secondly, how many treasures from the past lie within it.
[ 6 ] These treasures by no means remain unchanged in the spirit. The impressions that man gains from the experiences gradually fade from his memory. But not their fruits. One does not remember all the experiences one went through in childhood while acquiring the art of reading and writing. But you would not be able to read and write if you had not had these experiences and their fruits had not been preserved in the form of skills. And this is the transformation that the mind carries out with the treasures of memory. It leaves what can lead to images of individual experiences to its destiny and only draws from it the power to increase its abilities. Thus no experience passes by unused: the soul preserves it as a memory, and the spirit draws from it that which can enrich its abilities, its life content. The human spirit grows through the processed experiences. - So even if past experiences are not stored in the spirit as if in a collection chamber, their effects can be found in the abilities that the person has acquired.
[ 7 ] So far, the spirit and the soul have only been considered within the boundaries that lie between birth and death. One cannot stop there. Anyone who wanted to do this would be like someone who only wanted to consider the human body within the same boundaries. One can certainly find much within these boundaries. But one can never explain the human form from what lies between birth and death. It cannot be built up directly from mere physical substances and forces. It can only descend from a form similar to itself, which results from that which has reproduced itself. The physical substances and forces build up the body during life: the forces of reproduction allow another to emerge from it that can have its form, that is, one that can be the bearer of the same life body. - Every living body is a repetition of its ancestor. It is only because it is this that it does not appear in just any form, but in the one it has inherited. The forces that made my human form possible lay in my ancestors. But the spirit of man also appears in a certain form (whereby the word form is of course meant spiritually). And the forms of the spirit are the most diverse imaginable in individual people. No two people have the same spiritual form. One only has to observe just as calmly and objectively in this area as in the physical. One cannot say that the differences between people in spiritual terms are solely due to the differences in their environment, their upbringing and so on. No, that is not at all the case; for two people develop in quite different ways under the same influences of environment, education and so on. It must therefore be admitted that they have started out in life with quite different dispositions. - Here we are faced with an important fact that sheds light on the nature of man if we recognize its full significance. Those who want to focus their view only on the side of material events could, however, say that the individual differences of human personalities stem from the differences in the constitution of the material germs. (And taking into account the laws of heredity found by Gregor Mendel and further developed by others, such a view can say much that gives it the appearance of justification even before scientific judgment). But such a judge only shows that he has no insight into the real relationship between man and his experience. For proper observation shows that external circumstances affect different people in different ways through something that does not directly interact with material development. For the really precise investigator in this field, it becomes apparent that what comes from the material dispositions can be distinguished from what arises through the interaction of the human being with the experiences, but can only take shape through the soul itself entering into this interaction. The soul is clearly related to something within the external world that, by its very nature, cannot have any relation to material germinal dispositions.
[ 8 ] The physical form of human beings distinguishes them from their animal fellow creatures on earth. But within certain limits, they are equal to one another in terms of this form. There is only one human species. However great the differences of races, tribes, peoples and personalities may be, in physical terms the similarity between man and man is greater than that between man and any species of animal. Everything that is expressed in the human species is conditioned by heredity from ancestors to descendants. And the human form is bound to this inheritance. Just as the lion can only inherit its physical form through lion ancestors, so man can only inherit his physical form through human ancestors.
[ 9 ] Just as the physical similarity of human beings is clearly visible, so the difference of their spiritual forms is revealed to the unprejudiced spiritual gaze. - There is an obvious fact through which this is expressed. It consists in the existence of a person's biography. If man were merely a generic being, there could be no biography. A lion and a pigeon occupy the interest insofar as they belong to the lion and pigeon species. One has understood the individual in all essentials when one has described the species. It matters little here whether we are dealing with father, son or grandson. What interests them is what father, son and grandson have in common. What man means, however, only begins where he is not merely a species or genus, but where he is an individual being. I have by no means understood the nature of Mr. Schulze in Krähwinkel when I have described his son or his father. I must know his own biography. Anyone who thinks about the nature of biography will realize that in spiritual terms every human being is a species in itself. - Of course, anyone who understands biography merely as an external compilation of life events may claim that he can write a biography of a dog in the same sense as a biography of a human being. But whoever describes the real character of a person in a biography understands that he has something in it that corresponds to the description of an entire species in the animal kingdom. What matters is not that one can say something biographical about an animal - especially a clever one - which is really self-evident, but that the human biography does not correspond to this animal biography, but to the description of the animal species. There will always be people who want to refute what has been said here by saying that menagerie owners, for example, know how individual animals of the same species differ. However, anyone who judges in this way only shows that they are unable to distinguish between individual differences and differences that are only acquired through individuality.
[ 10 ] If the species or genus can only be understood in the physical sense if it is understood in its conditionality through heredity, then the spiritual essence can only be understood through a similar spiritual heredity. I have my physical human form because of my descent from human ancestors. Where did I get what is expressed in my biography? As a physical human being I repeat the form of my ancestors. What do I repeat as a spiritual human being? Whoever wants to claim that what is included in my biography needs no further explanation, that it must be accepted, should also claim that he has seen a mound of earth somewhere on which the lumps of material have gathered into a living human being all by themselves.
[ 11 ] As a physical human being, I am descended from other physical human beings, because I have the same form as the entire human species. The characteristics of the species could therefore be acquired within the species through inheritance. As a spiritual human being, I have my own form, just as I have my own biography. I can therefore have this form from no one else but myself. And since I did not enter the world with indeterminate, but with definite spiritual dispositions, since my path through life, as expressed in my biography, is determined by these dispositions, my work on myself cannot have begun at birth. I must have existed as a spiritual human being before my birth. I was certainly not present in my ancestors, because they are different from me as spiritual people. My biography cannot be explained from theirs. Rather, as a spiritual being, I must be the repetition of one from whose biography mine can be explained. The other initially conceivable case would be that I owe the shaping of what is the content of my biography only to a spiritual life before birth (or conception). However, this idea would only be justified if one wanted to assume that what affects the human soul from the physical environment is the same as what the soul has from a purely spiritual world. Such an assumption contradicts truly accurate observation. For what is determining for the human soul from this physical environment is such that it has the same effect as something experienced later in physical life on something experienced earlier in the same way. In order to observe these relationships correctly, one must acquire an eye for how there are effective impressions in human life that act on the soul's dispositions in the same way as standing before a deed to be performed in relation to what one has already practiced in physical life; only that such impressions do not impinge on what has already been practiced in this immediate life, but on soul dispositions that can be impressed in the same way as the abilities acquired through practice. He who sees through these things comes to the idea of earth lives which must have preceded the present one. In his thinking he cannot stop at purely spiritual experiences before this life on earth. - The physical form that Schiller carried with him was inherited from his ancestors. But just as little as this physical form can have grown out of the earth, so little can it be Schiller's spiritual being. He must be the repetition of another spiritual entity, from whose biography his own can be explained, just as Schiller's physical human form can be explained by human reproduction. - So just as the physical human form is again and again a repetition, a re-embodiment of the human species entity, so the spiritual man must be a re-embodiment of the same spiritual man. For as a spiritual human being, each one is a separate species.
[ 12 ] One can object to what has been said here: these are mere statements of thought; and one can demand external proofs, as one is accustomed to from ordinary natural science. On the other hand, it must be said that the re-embodiment of the spiritual man is a process which does not belong to the field of external physical facts, but one which takes place entirely in the spiritual field. And no other of our ordinary spiritual powers has access to this field than thinking alone. Whoever does not want to trust the power of thinking cannot enlighten himself about higher spiritual facts. - For those whose spiritual eye is open, the above trains of thought work with exactly the same power as a process that takes place before their physical eye. Whoever grants a so-called "proof", which is constructed according to the method of ordinary scientific knowledge, more persuasive power than the above explanations about the meaning of biography, may be a great scientist in the ordinary sense of the word: but he is very far removed from the paths of genuine spiritual research.
[ 13 ] It is one of the most alarming prejudices to try to explain a person's mental qualities by inheritance from father or mother or other ancestors. Anyone who is guilty of the prejudice that Goethe, for example, inherited what makes up his nature from his father and mother, can hardly be helped with reasons at first, because there is a deep antipathy to unprejudiced observation. A materialistic suggestion prevents him from seeing the connections between phenomena in the right light.
[ 14 ] In such explanations, the prerequisites are given for pursuing the human being beyond birth and death. Within the boundaries determined by birth and death, the human being belongs to the three worlds of corporeality, the soul and the spirit. The soul forms the middle link between body and spirit by permeating the third member of the body, the soul body, with sentience and by permeating the first member of the spirit, the spirit self, as the consciousness soul. It thus shares in the body as well as in the spirit during life. This share is expressed in its entire existence. It will depend on the organization of the soul body how the sentient soul can develop its abilities. And on the other hand, it will depend on the life of the consciousness soul how far the spirit self can develop within it. The more well-formed the soul body is, the better will the sentient soul communicate with the outside world. And the more the consciousness soul nourishes it, the richer and more powerful the spirit self will become. It has been shown that during life this nourishment is supplied to the spirit self through the processed experiences and the fruits of these experiences. For the interaction between soul and spirit described above can of course only take place where soul and spirit are in each other, permeated by each other, i.e. within the connection of "spirit self with consciousness soul".
[ 15 ] First, let us consider the interaction between the soul body and the consciousness soul. The soul body is, as it turns out, the finest manifestation of the physical body, but it belongs to it and is dependent on it. Physical body, etheric body and soul body make up a whole in certain respects. Therefore, the soul body is also included in the laws of physical inheritance, through which the body receives its form. And since it is the most mobile, as it were the most fleeting form of corporeality, it must also show the most mobile and fleeting manifestations of heredity. Therefore, while the physical body is the least different only according to races, peoples and tribes, and the etheric body shows a greater deviation for individual people, but still a predominant similarity, this difference is already very great in the soul body. It expresses what is already perceived as an external, personal characteristic of the human being. It is therefore also the bearer of what is inherited from this personal characteristic from parents, grandparents and so on to the descendants. - It is true that the soul as such, as has been explained, leads a completely independent life; it is self-contained with its inclinations and aversions, with its feelings and passions. But it is nevertheless active as a whole, and therefore this whole is also expressed in the intuitive soul. And because the sentient soul permeates the soul body, fills it as it were, it forms itself according to the nature of the soul, and as a carrier of heredity it can then transmit the inclinations, passions and so on from the ancestors to the descendants. This is the basis of what Goethe says: "From my father I have the stature to lead life seriously; from my mother the cheerful nature and the desire to fabulate." Of course, he did not get genius from either. In this way we can see what a person passes on, as it were, from his spiritual qualities to the line of physical inheritance. The substances and forces of the physical body are of the same kind in the whole environment of external physical nature. They are continually absorbed from there and given back to it. Within a few years the mass of matter that makes up our physical body is completely renewed. The fact that this mass of matter takes on the form of the human body and that it is constantly renewed within this body depends on the fact that it is held together by the etheric body. And its form is not determined solely by the processes between birth - or conception - and death, but is dependent on the laws of heredity, which extend beyond birth and death. The fact that spiritual qualities can also be transmitted by way of inheritance, i.e. that the progress of physical inheritance has a spiritual impact, is due to the fact that the soul body can be influenced by the sentient soul.
[ 16 ] So how does the interaction between soul and spirit work? During life, the spirit is connected to the soul in the manner described above. It receives from it the gift of living in what is true and good and thereby expressing the spirit itself in its own life, in its inclinations, drives and passions. The spirit self brings the eternal laws of truth and goodness to the "I" from the world of the spirit. These are linked through the consciousness soul with the experiences of the soul's own life. These experiences themselves pass. But their fruits remain. The fact that the spirit self was connected with them makes a lasting impression on it. When the human spirit approaches such an experience, which is similar to another with which it has already been connected, it sees something familiar in it and knows how to behave differently towards it than if it were facing it for the first time. All learning is based on this. And the fruits of learning are acquired abilities. - In this way, the fruits of temporary life are imprinted on the eternal spirit. - And do we not perceive these fruits? What is the basis of the dispositions that have been described above as characteristic of the spiritual man? But only in abilities for this or that, which man brings with him when he begins his earthly path of life. To a certain extent, these abilities are quite similar to those that we can also acquire during our lives. Take the genius of a person. It is known of Mozart that as a boy he was able to write down from memory a long musical work of art that he had once heard. He was only able to do this because he could see the whole thing at once. Within certain limits, a person also expands his ability to comprehend, to penetrate contexts during his lifetime, so that he then possesses new abilities. Lessing said of himself that he had acquired something approaching genius through his critical powers of observation. If one does not want to marvel at such abilities, which are founded in dispositions, as miracles, then one must regard them as the fruits of experiences that the spirit self has had through a soul. They have been imprinted on this spirit self. And since they were not implanted in this life, they were implanted in a previous one. The human spirit is its own species. And just as the human being as a physical species inherits its characteristics within the species, so the spirit inherits them within its species, that is, within itself. In one life, the human spirit appears as a repetition of itself with the fruits of its previous experiences in previous lives. This life is thus the repetition of others and brings with it what the spirit self has acquired in the previous life. When it takes into itself something that can become fruit, it interpenetrates with the spirit of life. Just as the body of life repeats the form from species to species, so the spirit of life repeats the soul from personal existence to personal existence.
[ 17 ] Through the preceding considerations, the idea is elevated into the realm of validity, which seeks the reason for certain life processes of man in repeated earthly lives. This idea can probably only receive its full meaning through an observation that arises from spiritual insights, such as those acquired by following the path of knowledge described at the end of this book. It should only be shown here that an ordinary observation, properly oriented by thinking, already leads to this idea. However, such an observation will initially leave the conception in silhouette, so to speak. And it will not be able to protect it completely from the objections of an observation that is not precise and not properly guided by thinking. But on the other hand, it is true that whoever acquires such a conception through ordinary thinking observation prepares himself for supersensible observation. In a sense, he forms something that one must have before this supersensible observation, just as one must have the eye before sensory observation. Anyone who objects that by forming such an idea one can suggest to oneself the supersensible observation only proves that he is not able to enter into reality in free thinking and that he thereby suggests his own objections.
[ 18 ] Thus the experiences of the soul are permanently preserved not only within the boundaries of birth and death, but also beyond death. However, the soul not only imprints its experiences on the spirit that lights up within it, but as (page 62) has been shown, also on the outer world through action. What man did yesterday is still present in its effect today. A picture of the connection between cause and effect in this direction is given by the parable of sleep and death. - Sleep has often been called the younger brother of death. I get up in the morning. My continuous activity was interrupted by the night. Now, under normal circumstances, it is not possible for me to resume my activity in the morning in any way. I have to pick up where I left off yesterday if there is to be order and coherence in my life. My actions of yesterday are the preconditions for those that are incumbent upon me today. With what I accomplished yesterday, I have created my destiny for today. I have separated myself from my activity for a while; but this activity belongs to me and it draws me back to it after I have withdrawn from it for a while. My past remains connected to me; it lives on in my present and will follow me into my future. I would not have to wake up this morning, but be created anew, out of nothing, if the effects of my actions yesterday were not to be my fate today. It would be pointless if I did not move into a house that I had built for myself under regular circumstances.
[ 19 ] Just as man is not created anew in the morning, neither is the human spirit when it begins its earthly journey through life. Try to understand what happens when you enter this path of life. A physical body appears, which receives its form through the laws of heredity. This body becomes the carrier of a spirit that repeats a previous life in a new form. Between the two is the soul, which leads a self-contained life of its own. Its inclinations and aversions, its wishes and desires serve it; it places thinking at its service. As a sentient soul, it receives the impressions of the outside world; and it carries them to the spirit so that it may draw the fruits from them for the long term. It has, as it were, a mediating role, and its task is fulfilled when it fulfills this role. The body forms the impressions for it; it transforms them into sensations, preserves them in the memory as ideas and passes them on to the spirit so that it may carry them through the duration. The soul is actually that through which man belongs to his earthly life. Through his body he belongs to the physical human species. Through it he is a member of this species. With his spirit he lives in a higher world. The soul temporarily binds both worlds together.
[ 20 ] But the physical world that the human spirit enters is not a foreign scene to it. The traces of his deeds are imprinted in it. Something of this scene belongs to him. It bears the imprint of his nature. It is related to him. Just as the soul once transmitted the impressions of the outside world to him so that they would become permanent, so it, as his organ, has transformed the abilities bestowed on it by him into deeds that are also permanent in their effects. Thus the soul has actually flowed into these deeds. In the effects of his deeds, the human soul continues to live a second independent life. This, however, can give cause to look at life in terms of how the processes of destiny enter into this life. Something "happens" to the human being. At first, he is probably inclined to regard such an "incident" as something that enters his life "by chance". But he can realize how he himself is the result of such "coincidences". Anyone who looks at himself in his fortieth year of life and does not want to stop at an insubstantial, abstract conception of the self with the question of his soul being may say to himself: I am nothing other than what I have become through what has "happened" to me by fate up to the present day. Wouldn't I be different if, for example, I had had a certain series of experiences at the age of twenty instead of the ones that happened to me? He will then look for his "I" not only in his developmental impulses coming from "within", but also in what intervenes in his life "from outside". In what "happens to him", he will recognize his own ego. If one gives oneself to such a realization without bias, then only a further step of truly intimate observation of life is necessary in order to see in what flows to one through certain experiences of fate something that grips the ego from the outside in the same way that memory works from within to make a past experience light up again. One can thus make oneself capable of perceiving in the experience of destiny how an earlier act of the soul takes the path to the ego, just as in memory an earlier experience takes the path to the imagination when there is an external cause for it. It was previously spoken of as a "possible" idea that the consequences of the deed can affect the human soul again (see page 64 ff.). Within the individual life on earth such a meeting is excluded for certain consequences of the deed because this life on earth was predisposed to accomplish the deed. The experience lies in the accomplishment. A certain consequence of the deed can affect the soul as little as one can remember an experience in which one still stands. In this respect it can only be a matter of experiencing the consequences of the deed, which do not affect the "I" with the dispositions it has in the earthly life out of which it performs the deed. The gaze can only be directed towards the consequences of deeds from other earth lives. Thus one can - as soon as one feels that what apparently "happens" to one as an experience of destiny is connected with the ego, like that which is formed "from within" this ego itself - only think that in such an experience of destiny one is dealing with the consequences of deeds from earlier earth lives. You see, one is led to the assumption, paradoxical for the ordinary consciousness, that the fateful experiences of an earthly life are connected with the deeds of previous earthly lives, by an intimate perception of life guided by thinking. Again, this conception can only attain its full content through supersensible knowledge: without this it remains silhouetted. But again, gained from ordinary consciousness, it prepares the soul so that it can see its truth in truly supersensible observation.
[ 21 ] Only one part of my deed is in the outside world; the other is in myself. A simple comparison from the natural sciences makes this relationship between self and action clear. Animals that once migrated into the caves of Kentucky as sighted people have lost their eyesight through living in them. The stay in the darkness has put the eyes out of action. As a result, the physical and chemical activity that takes place during vision is no longer carried out in these eyes. The stream of food that was previously used for this activity now flows to other organs. Now these animals can only live in these caves. Through their actions, through immigration, they have created the conditions for their later life. Immigration has become part of their destiny. An entity that was once active has become linked to the results of its actions. So it is with the human spirit. The soul has only been able to impart certain abilities to it by being active. And these abilities correspond to the deeds. Through a deed which the soul has performed, the power-filled disposition to perform another deed lives in it, which is the fruit of this deed - the soul carries this within itself as a necessity until the latter deed has happened. One can also say that through a deed the necessity to perform the consequence of this deed is imprinted in the soul.
[ 22 ] With its deeds, the human spirit has truly prepared its destiny. He finds himself bound to what he did in his previous life in a new one. - The question can be raised: how can this be, since the human spirit is transferred to a completely different world in its re-embodiment than the one it once left? This question is based on an idea of the chaining of destinies that clings to the externals of life. When I move my scene from Europe to America, I also find myself in a completely new environment. And yet my life in America depends entirely on my previous life in Europe. If I became a mechanic in Europe, my life in America will be very different from what it would have been if I had become a bank clerk. In the one case I will probably be surrounded by machines in America, in the other by banking facilities. In each case my previous life determines my surroundings; it draws to itself, as it were, from the whole environment those things that are related to it. So it is with the spirit self. In a new life it necessarily surrounds itself with that with which it is related from previous lives. - And that is why sleep is a useful image for death, because during sleep man is withdrawn from the scene where his fate awaits him. While one sleeps, the events on this scene continue. For a time, we have no influence on this course. Nevertheless, our life on a new day depends on the effects of our actions on the previous day. Our personality really embodies itself anew every morning in our world of deeds. What was separated from us during the night is, as it were, placed around us during the day. - So it is with the deeds of man's earlier embodiments. They are connected with him as his fate, just as life in the dark caves remains connected with the animals that have lost their sight by migrating into these caves. Just as these animals can only live if they are in the environment in which they have placed themselves, so the human spirit can only live in the environment that it has created for itself through its actions. The immediate course of events ensures that I find myself in the morning in the situation I created the day before. The relationship between my re-embodied spirit and the things of the environment ensures that when I re-embody I find an environment that corresponds to the result of my deeds from the previous life. You can then form an idea of how the soul is incorporated into the essence of the human being. The physical body is subject to the laws of heredity. The human spirit, on the other hand, must embody itself again and again; and its law is that it takes over the fruits of previous lives into the following ones. The soul lives in the present. But this life in the present is not independent of the previous lives. The incarnating spirit brings its destiny with it from its previous embodiments. And this destiny determines its life. Which impressions the soul will be able to have, which desires it will be able to satisfy, which joys and sufferings it will experience, with which people it will come together: that depends on how the deeds in the previous embodiments of the spirit were. People with whom the soul was connected in one life, it will have to find again in a following one, because the deeds that have been between them must have their consequences. Like the one soul, those connected to it will also strive for re-embodiment at the same time. The life of the soul is thus a result of the self-created destiny of the human spirit. Three things determine the course of a person's life within birth and death. And threefold, it is therefore dependent on factors that lie beyond birth and death. The body is subject to the law of heredity; the soul is subject to self-created destiny. This destiny created by man is called, with an old expression, his karma. And the spirit is subject to the law of re-embodiment, of repeated earthly lives. - The relationship between spirit, soul and body can therefore also be expressed as follows: the spirit is immortal; birth and death take place in the body according to the laws of the physical world; the life of the soul, which is subject to fate, mediates the connection between the two during an earthly life course. All further insights into the nature of man presuppose an acquaintance with the "three worlds" themselves, to which he belongs. The following will deal with these.
[ 23 ] A mind that confronts the phenomena of life and that is not afraid to follow the thoughts arising from a life-filled contemplation down to their last links can arrive at the idea of repeated earthly lives and the laws of fate through mere logic. As true as it is that to the seer with the opened "spiritual eye" the past lives are available as an experience like an open book, so true is it that the truth of all this can light up the contemplating reason. 1Compare what is said about this at the end of the book under "Individual remarks and additions", p. 199f.