Metamorphoses of the Soul I
GA 58
25 November 1909, Berlin
VII. Human Egoism
Once upon a time a Society was founded with a programme announcing as its central aim: “The abolition of egoism”. All its members had to pledge themselves to cultivate selflessness and freedom from egoism in any form. This Society had elected a President, as all societies do, and the thing now, was to gain support for its fundamental principle in the world at large.
It was emphatically laid down over and over again and in the most diverse ways that no member at any time or place (and especially within the Society) should cherish the slightest egoistic wish or give utterance to any kind of selfish desire.
Now this was certainly a Society with an uncommonly praiseworthy programme and an exalted human goal. But one could not immediately say that the members were seeking to exemplify in themselves the primary point in their programme, for they scarcely allowed themselves to become acquainted with unselfish human wishes. The following scene was often enacted within the Society. A member would say: “Yes, I would like this and that. But if I were to put it to the Chairman, I would be advancing an egoistic wish, and that would never do.” Another member would reply: “Quite simple—I'll go on your behalf. I shall be acting as your representative, and in putting forward your wish I shall be doing something entirely selfless. But listen—there is something I would like. Naturally, it is something quite egoistic, so according to our programme I can't propose it.” The first member would then say: “If you are to be so unselfish on my account, I will do something for you. I will go to the Chairman on your behalf and ask him for what you want.” And so it turned out. One of the two went first to the Chairman and then, two hours later, the other member went. Both had put forward quite unselfish wishes.
“Once upon a time”, I said—of course this Society has never existed. But anyone who looks round him in daily life will perhaps agree that a little of this Society is always present everywhere. At all events, my intention was only to indicate how “egoism” is one of those words which most readily become catch-words unless they are used in a direct connection with whatever they designate; otherwise they appear in disguise and deceive us into passing casually over them.
Today we will take this catch-word, egoism, and its opposite, altruism or selflessness. We shall not treat them as catch-words, but will try to penetrate a little way into the nature of egoism. When we examine these things from the standpoint of Spiritual Science, we are not so much concerned with whatever sympathy or antipathy may be evoked by this or that human characteristic, or how it may be assessed in accordance with some prevailing judgment—these are not important points. What matters much more, is to show how the relevant characteristic originates in the human soul, and within what limits it is valid; and if it must be fought against, to determine how far it can be combated through human nature or through other existent beings.
In its literal sense, egoism is the characteristic which impels a man to give first place to his own advantage and the enhancement of his own personality, while its opposite, altruism, aims at placing human faculties at the service of others, indeed, of the whole world.
A simple consideration will show us how precarious our position is if we think only of the word egoism, and fail to enter into the thing itself. Suppose that someone proves himself to be a great benefactor in one way or another. It could well be that he is a benefactor only out of egoism, perhaps out of quite petty forms of egoism, perhaps out of vanity and the like. On the other hand, if a man is dubbed an egoist without more ado, this is by no means the last word on his character. For if a man seeks only to satisfy himself but otherwise has noble qualities, so that he sees the service of others as the best way forward for himself, we might perhaps be well pleased with such an “egoist”. This may sound like a mere play on words, but is more than that, for in fact this playing on words permeates our entire life and shows itself in all realms of existence.
For everything we find in man we can find something analogous in the rest of the world. Schiller has a verse which indicates how in the realms of Nature something symbolical of an outstanding human quality can be found:
Seek you the highest, the greatest?
The plant can teach it to you.
What the plant does without willing it,
Go you and do by willing it.42From the poem “Das Höchste”, 1795.
Schiller here brings before us the being of the plant and urges man to develop in his own character something as noble as the plant is on its own level. And the great German mystic, Angelus Silesius, says much the same:
Not asking why or wherefore blooms the rose
Cares not for herself or whether men behold her.43From the “Cherubinischen Wandersmann” by Angelus Silesius (1624–1677), Book 1, Verse 289.
Here again we are called to look at the plant world. The plant draws in whatever it needs for growth; it asks no why or wherefore; it flowers because it flowers and cares not whom it may concern. And yet, it is by drawing its life-forces and everything it needs for itself from its environment that the plant acquires whatever worth it can have for its environment and finally for men. Indeed, it attains the highest degree of usefulness that can be imagined for a created being, if it belongs to those realms of the plant world which can be of service to higher beings. And it will now be an idle triviality to repeat here a familiar saying, although it has been quoted so often:
When herself the rose adorns,
She adorns the garden.44End of the poem “Welt und Ich” by Friedrich Rückert (1788–1866).
When the rose is as beautiful as it can be, the garden is adorned. We can connect this with the word, egoism, and say: When the rose strives quite egoistically to be as beautiful as she can, and to grace herself with the finest possible form, then through her the garden becomes as beautiful as possible. Can we take this result from a lower level of existence and apply it in some way to man? We have no need to do this, for it has been done already by many others, and by Goethe best of all.
When Goethe wishes to express what man is in the most authentic sense, and how he manifests most truly his worth and the entire content of his existence, he says: “When a man's healthy nature works as a whole, when he feels himself to be living in the world as in a great and beautiful and worthy whole, when this harmony brings him a pure, free joy, then the universe, if it could come to be aware of its own self, would cry out in exultation at having reached its goal and would marvel at the height which its own being and becoming had attained.”
This passage is from Goethe's splendid book on Winckelmann,45See note 5. and elsewhere in the same book he says: “Placed upon the summit of Nature, man sees himself as another complete nature, with the task of achieving another summit in himself. To this end he heightens his powers, imbuing himself with all perfections and virtues, invoking choice, order, harmony and meaning, and finally rising to the creation of a work of art.”
Goethe's whole mood shows that he is referring here to the artist only as a specialised example and that he really means: Placed upon the summit of Nature, man gathers together everything that the world can express in him and finally displays to the world its own image, mirrored from within himself; and Nature would rejoice if she could perceive in the human soul this reflected image of herself.
What else does this mean than that everything which surrounds us in the world, as Nature and as spirit, concentrates itself in man, rises to a summit, and becomes in individual men, in the individual human Ego, as beautiful, true and perfect as it can? Hence, man will best fulfil his existence if he draws in as much as possible from the outer world and makes his own everything that can blossom and bear fruit in himself.
This view of things implies that man can never do enough to combine in himself whatever the surrounding world offers, in order to manifest through himself a kind of supreme achievement of Nature. Anyone who wishes to call that “egoism” may do so. Then one could say: The human ego is there to be an organ for elements in Nature which would otherwise remain forever hidden and which can come to expression only through being concentrated in the spirit of man. But although it is natural for man to gather these elements from the natural world into himself, it also lies in his nature to bring error and confusion into the general law which leads the lower realms in outer existence towards the highest levels. This is bound up with what we call human freedom. Man could never enjoy a free existence if he were not capable of misusing in a one-sided way certain forces within him—forces which can lead to the heights and can also pervert existence and perhaps even make a caricature of it. A simple comparison will make this clear. Let us go back to the plant.
It does not generally occur to us to speak of egoism in connection with the plant. It was only in order to bring out clearly the law of egoism that we said: What comes to expression in the plants could be called egoism. Normally, we do not speak of egoism in their case. If we consider the plant world in a spiritual and not a materialistic sense, we can see that the plant is in a certain sense proof against egoism. On the one hand, the conditions of its life require it to make itself as beautiful as it can, without asking who will benefit from its beauty.
But when the plant has risen to the highest expression of its individual being, it is on the verge of having to give all this up. The plant world has a peculiar characteristic. Goethe puts this finely in his Prose Sayings: “The law of vegetable growth reaches its highest manifestation in the blossom and of this, in him, the rose is the summit. ... The fruit can never be beautiful, for then the vegetable law retreats and becomes again merely a law.”46“Sprüche in Prosa”, vol. V, p.495 of Goethes Naturwissenschaftliche Schriften Thus it was clear to Goethe that the plant gives expression to its own law most vividly when it flowers. At this moment, however, it must be prepared to yield up its beauty to the process of fructification, for it is now called upon to sacrifice its highest self on behalf of its successor in the form of the seed-bud. There is something great in this act of self-sacrifice by the plant at the moment when it is rising to the point of imprinting its Ego, as it were, on its appearance. So on this lower level, we see how in Nature egoism progresses to a certain stage, and how it then destroys and surrenders itself in order that something new may emerge. The highest manifestation of the plant, its individuality—as we may call it—which achieves its summit of beauty in the flower, begins to fade directly the new plant-seed is produced.
Now let us ask: Does anything similar occur on the human level? Yes, if we consider Nature and spiritual life in terms of the spirit, we find that something quite similar does occur in man. For man is not intended merely to reproduce his kind and to carry on the human species; he is called upon to transcend the species and to exist as an individual. We shall come to know the true form and nature of egoism in man only if we look at his being in the light of previous lectures.
In Spiritual Science, we do not regard man as consisting only of a physical body, which he has in common with the mineral kingdom. We speak of higher members of his being: the etheric body which he has in common with all living things, and the astral body, or consciousness body, the bearer of pleasure and pain, joy and sorrow, which he has in common with the animal kingdom. And we say, that within these three members lives the true kernel of his being, the Ego. We must regard the Ego as the bearer of egoism both when the latter is justified and when it is unjustified. Man's development depends entirely on the work accomplished by the Ego in transforming the other three members of his being. At first, on a primitive level, his Ego is the slave of these other members; he follows all the urges, desires and passions that come from his astral body. But the further his development goes, the more will he be doing to purify his astral body, so that he transforms it into something which is ruled by his higher nature, by his Ego, and his Ego becomes increasingly the ruler and purifier of the other members of his being.
As you have heard in previous lectures, man is now in the midst of this development. In so far as he transforms his astral body, he creates what we call Spirit-self, or, in the terminology of oriental philosophy, Manas. In the future it will be possible for him to transform by degrees his etheric body, and so to create what we call Life-spirit, or Buddhi. And when finally he masters the processes in his physical body, the transformed part of it will be what we call Atman, or Spirit-man. So we look towards a future condition in which man will rule consciously, from out of his Ego, over all his activities.
These future faculties have been in preparation for a very long time. The Ego has already worked, unconsciously or subconsciously, on the three other members of man's being. In the far distant past the Ego transformed a part of the astral body, also called the sentient body, into the Sentient Soul; a part of the etheric body into the Intellectual Soul, and a part of the physical body into the Consciousness Soul. Today we shall be concerned especially with the relationship of the sentient body to the Sentient Soul.
When we observe a human being from the time of his birth and see how his faculties gradually emerge—as though from the hidden depths of his bodily nature, we can say: Here the Sentient Soul is working its way out into the light of day. The Sentient Soul, as we have seen, is fashioned by the Ego out of the sentient body, and the sentient body is built up from the young child's entire environment. We can understand this if we recall Goethe's saying: “The eye is formed by light for light.”47See “Entwurf einer Farbenlehre”, vol. III, p.88 of Goethes Naturwissenschaftliche Schriften If we consider any sense-organ whereby man becomes conscious of the external physical world, we must set against Schopenhauer's one-sided statement,48Rudolf Steiner is here presumably referring to the sentence from Schopenhauer's introduction to his treatise “On Vision and Colours”: “That the colours which ... appear to clothe the objects are really only in the eye”. that we could not see the light if we had no eyes, the equally valid statement that if there were no light, there would be no eyes. Through endless ages, as Goethe says, the all-pervading light worked on the human organism so as to fashion the sense-organ which is now able to look on the light. We can discern in the world around us the forces which have produced in man the faculties which enable us to become conscious of it. Thus the entire sentient body, the whole fabric whereby we enter into a relationship with the outer world, has been woven from its living forces. We have no share in this achievement. The astral body is a product, a flowering, of the surrounding world. Within the astral body the Sentient Soul emerges, formed by the work of the Ego from the substance of the sentient body. So the Ego lives in the sentient body and draws from it the substance of the Sentient Soul.
Now the Ego can work in a twofold way. First, it can develop in the Sentient Soul those faculties which are in harmony with the faculties and characteristics of the sentient body. An example from the field of education will make this clear. It is precisely from the field of education that we can draw the most beautiful and practical examples of what Spiritual Science is.
The sentient body is built up from a child's environment. Hence all those concerned with bringing up and educating a child have an influence on the sentient body, from the very beginning of its physical existence. They can help the sentient body to acquire the soul-qualities that are in harmony with its characteristics, as indicated by the Ego; but they can also pass on things which contradict these characteristics. If a child is brought up and educated in such a way that he can feel a living interest in everything that meets his eyes, if he can rightly rejoice in colours and forms, if musical tones give him happiness, if he can gradually bring about harmony between the impressions that come to him from outside and the feelings of joy and pleasure, of sympathetic interest in life, that arise in the Sentient Soul—then the child's inner response will be in consonance with a true picture of existence; then the inner life of his soul will harmonise with outer existence. Then, secondly, we can say that a human being does not live only within himself, capable only of fashioning a Sentient Soul in his sentient body; he can go out beyond himself. Nor is he capable only of seeing and hearing; he can pour himself out into the surrounding world and live in whatever his sentient body transmits to him. Then we have not only harmony between sentient body and Sentient-Soul; we have harmony also between the outer world and the experiences of the Sentient Soul. Then man is truly a kind of mirror of the universe; a kind of microcosm which—as Goethe said—enjoys the feeling of living in the wide expanse of a great and beautiful world.
We can take another example. If a child were to grow up on a desert island, far from any human society, some of its faculties would not develop. It would be deprived of speech, of thinking power, and of all those noble qualities which can light up only through living together with other human beings, for these are qualities which belong to man's inner being, to his soul.
Now man can develop in such a way that he goes out from himself, with his attributes, and creates harmony between himself and the world around him. Or he can let his endowments harden and dry up within himself. This happens if he fails to respond to the colours, tones and so on that he receives from the outer world, and so is unable to give them back enriched with his own interest and pleasure. A man becomes inwardly hardened if he keeps to himself whatever he acquires from associating with other people, instead of making it contribute to human intercourse. If he secludes himself, choosing to live entirely within himself, a disharmony arises between him and his environment. A cleft opens between his Sentient Soul and his sentient body. If, after enjoying the advantages of human progress, he fails to place at the service of mankind the benefits that can flourish only in a social milieu, a gap arises between himself and his surroundings, whether it be the outer world, to which he can no longer respond, or his human environment, to which he owes his finest interests. The result is that he becomes inwardly dried up, for he cannot be advanced or enlivened by anything that comes to him from outside if it is torn from its roots, and this is what happens if he fails to allow his soul-life to flow out into the world around him. And if he continually reinforces his seclusion from the outer world, the effect is that his soul-life tends to wither and die away. This is precisely the bad side of egoism, and we must now characterise it in greater detail.
When egoism takes this form, so that man is not continually nourished and vitalised by the outer world, he is heading for his own extinction. That is the check generally imposed on egoism, and thereby the true nature of egoism is made clear. For whereas man, by absorbing the forces of the surrounding world, enables the world to attain a summit in himself, he then has to do consciously what the plant does unconsciously. At the very moment when the plant is in course of imprinting its inner being on its visible form, the power behind the plant leads its egoistic principle over into a new plant. But man, as a self-conscious being and an Ego-bearer, is required to bring about by his own efforts this development in himself. At a certain stage he must be prepared to surrender whatever he has received from outside and to give birth, within his own Ego, to a higher Ego; and this higher Ego will not become hardened, but will enter into a harmonious relationship with the entire world.
The knowledge that a one-sided egoism destroys itself can be verified by ordinary observation of life. One needs only to look at people who are unable to take any active interest in the great and beautiful ordering of nature from which the human organism draws its form and substance. How painful it is for anyone who understands these things to see how some people pass indifferently by the world to which they owe their eyes and ears; how they cut themselves off from the world in which their existence is rooted and wish only to be left alone with their inward brooding. Then we see how this perverted way of living brings its own penalty. Anyone who follows it goes through life in a state of chronic boredom; he pursues one desire after another, not realising that he is seeking satisfaction in vague phantoms, when he should be giving himself out to the world from which his own existence has come about. Anyone who goes through life saying: People are a burden, I have no use for them, they disturb my life, I am too good for this world—anyone who talks like that should merely reflect that he is repudiating the origin of his existence. If he had grown up on a desert island, far from the human society that he regards as not good enough for him, he would have remained dumb and would never have developed the faculties he now has. All that he finds so great and praiseworthy in himself would be absent, were it not for the people he has no use for. He should realise that he has separated himself from his environment by his own willful choice, and that in fact he owes to his environment the very faculties which now repudiate it.
If a man pursues this course, he not only kills the interest he might have taken in nature and human life, his own life-force declines and he condemns himself to a desolate, dissatisfied existence. All those people who indulge in world-weariness because they find nothing anywhere to interest them, should for once ask themselves: What is my egoism doing to me? Here a cosmic law is indicated. Wherever egoism takes a perverted form, it has a desolating effect on living. That is the good thing about egoism: if it is carried to an extreme, it destroys the egoist.
If now we take the great law that we have gained from studying egoism and apply it to the various faculties of the human soul, we can ask, for example: How does egoism affect the Consciousness Soul, through which man acquires knowledge of the world around him? In other words, when can a piece of knowledge prove fruitful? It will be truly fruitful only if it brings a man into harmony with the rest of the world. This means that the only concepts and ideas that can invigorate the human soul are those drawn from the life of the great outer world, and then only if we are in harmony with the outer world. That is why all ways of knowledge which seek, above all, to reach the great truths of existence, step by step, are so health-giving for the soul, and also, therefore, for the physical body. On the other hand, anything that leads us away from a living connection with the world, as solitary inward brooding does, or anything that brings us into discord with the world, will have a hardening effect.
Here is an appropriate occasion to refer once more to the widely misunderstood saying, “Know thyself!”, which has a meaning valid for all epochs. Only when a man realises that he belongs to the whole world, that his Self is not confined within his skin but is spread out over the whole world, over sun and stars, over all earthly creatures, and that this Self has only created an expression of itself within his skin—only if he recognises that he is interwoven with the entire world—only then can he make proper use of the saying, “Know thyself”. For self knowledge is then world-knowledge. A man who fails to realise this is like a finger which imagined it could achieve an individual existence apart from the rest of the organism. Cut it off, and in three weeks it will quite certainly no longer be a finger. The finger has no illusions about that; only man supposes that he could do without any connections with the world. World-knowledge is self-knowledge and self-knowledge is world-knowledge. Any sort of inward brooding is merely a sign that we cannot get away from ourselves. Very great harm is therefore done when in certain theosophical circles today it is said: A solution of the riddle of existence will not be found in the world outside, or in phenomena permeated by the spirit, but in your own self. “Look for God in your own breast”—that is the injunction often heard. “You need not exert yourself to seek for revelations of the cosmic Spirit out there in the universe. You have only to look within yourself; you will find it all there.” This kind of instruction does the student very bad service. It makes him proud and egoistic with regard to knowledge. The result is that certain theosophical directives, instead of training a person in selflessness, instead of freeing him from himself and bringing him into relation with the great riddles of existence, have a hardening effect on him. One can appeal to man's pride and vanity by telling him: “You need learn nothing from the world; you will find it all in yourself.” We appeal to truth when we show that to be in harmony with the great world can enable a man to become greater in himself and therefore greater in the world.
This applies also to human feeling and to the entire content of the Intellectual Soul, which gains in strength when a man knows how to achieve harmony between himself and the outer world. Strength and power are not acquired by sitting down and brooding all day long over such questions as—“What shall I think now? What shall I do? What's that pain I feel coming on again?”—but by opening the heart to everything great and beautiful in our surroundings, and by showing interest and understanding for everything that warms the hearts of others, as well as for their wants and privations. In this way we strengthen the life-forces in the realm of feeling within us; we overcome narrow minded egoism and we enhance and enrich our Ego by bringing the true form of egoism into harmony with our environment.
This comes out very clearly when we consider the human will and the Consciousness Soul itself. A man who exerts his will only for himself and his own advantage will always feel inwardly dissatisfied. Only when he can see his resolves reflected in the outer world and his will-impulses realised in action—only then can he say that he has brought his willing into harmony with outer events. And here we learn that our inner strength and power are not developed by anything we will for ourselves, but by whatever we will for the outer world and for other people. Our willing becomes reality and its reflection shines back to us. As our eyes are formed by light, so is our strength of soul developed by our actions and activities.
Thus we see how man, as a self-conscious being, is able through a right comprehension of his “I”, his Ego, to arrive at harmony between himself and the world around him, until he grows out of himself and accomplishes the birth of what we may call a higher man. In this way he brings forth something in himself, even as a plant on a lower level brings forth out of itself a new being at the moment when it is in danger of becoming hardened in its own existence. That is how we must understand egoism. The human Ego, having been fructified by the surrounding world, brings forth on the heights of existence a new Ego, and will then be ripe to flow out into actions which would otherwise give expression only to worthless demands and useless moral postulates. For only through world-knowledge can the will be fired to act on the world in return. Whatever points may be set out in the programmes of societies, however many societies may have “universal human love” at the head of their programmes, these moral injunctions will have no practical effect.
All the ordinary preaching of human love is as though a stove were standing in a cold room and someone says to it: “Dear stove, your moral duty as a stove is to warm the room”. You could go on like that for hours or days—the stove would not be moved to make the room warm. Similarly, men will not be moved by sermons to practise human love, even if you were to preach to them for centuries that men ought to love one another. But bring the human Ego into connection with the content of the whole world, let people participate in the radiance of flowers and in all the beauties of Nature, and you will soon see that this participation is a foundation for the higher participation that can arise between human being and human being.
By gaining knowledge of human beings and human nature, man learns to meet the faults and good qualities of others with understanding. Wisdom of this kind, derived from approaching the world with living insight, passes over into the blood, into action and will. And what we call human love is born from it. Just as babbling to the stove is useless, when what we need to do is simply to bring wood and start a fire, so should we bring to human beings the fuel that will kindle, warm and illuminate their souls; and the fuel required is knowledge of the world, so that understanding of human nature and harmonious consonance between the human Ego and the outer world are brought about. Then we shall in fact be kindling human love—a love that can flow from heart to heart and draw human beings together, teaching them that actions performed only for ourselves have a deadly, desolating effect upon us, while actions that have a helpful influence on the lives of others are reflected back to enhance our own strength. Through a right understanding of egoism, accordingly, our Ego is enriched and enabled to develop, if, as far as possible, we realise our own Self in the service of another, and strive to cultivate not only personal feeling, but fellow feeling, as far as we can. That is how the nature of Egoism is seen by Spiritual Science.
The subject we have touched on today has deeply interested all the thinkers who have pondered seriously on human existence. The nature of egoism was bound to concern outstanding men during the 18th century, a time when man as an individual had broken free from certain ties with his social environment. One of these outstanding men was Goethe. And he has given us a work, Wilhelm Meister's Years of Apprenticeship and its sequel Wilhelm Meister's Year's of Travel, which we can take as an example, as if drawn from the world, of his thoughts on the nature of egoism.
Just as Faust occupied Goethe throughout his life, so did Wilhelm Meister. As early as the seventeen-sixties, Goethe felt that he had the task of depicting, in the peculiar life of Wilhelm Meister, a kind of mirror-image of his own life, and it was in his old age, when he was nearing his death, that he completed the Years of Travel. It would take us too far to go into the details of Wilhelm Meister, but perhaps you will allow me to outline the problem of egoism as we meet it here in Goethe.
A thoroughgoing, refined egoist, one might say, is portrayed here. Wilhelm Meister was born into the merchant class, but he is enough of an egoist to abandon this calling, in spite of the claims of duty. What, then, does he really want? We are shown how he wants to develop his own Self to the highest degree and with the utmost freedom. He has a dim presentiment of becoming some kind of perfected man. Thus Goethe leads Wilhelm Meister through the most varied experiences, so as to show how life works upon this individuality in order to raise it to a higher level. Of course, Goethe is well aware that Wilhelm Meister is driven around by all sorts of circumstances and reaches no definite goal. Hence at one point he calls him a “poor wretch”.49In the conversation with Chancellor von Müller of 22nd January 1821. But at the same time he knows that although a man may have to work his way through folly and errors, he is led by certain forces to a certain goal, or at least along a certain path. It was Goethe's opinion, which never left him, that human life is never completely at the mercy of chance, but is subject, like all things, to laws—indeed, spiritual laws. Therefore Goethe says that the whole human race can be regarded as a great individual, striving upwards and making itself the master of chance.50“Spruche in Prosa”, vol. V, p.482 of Goethes Naturwissenschaftliche Schriften
Goethe's intention, accordingly, is to show Wilhelm Meister as intent always on heightening, enriching and perfecting his Ego. At the same time, he leads Wilhelm Meister into a way of life which is, strictly speaking, at one remove from actuality. The whole character of the 18th century can help us to understand why Wilhelm Meister is led away from pursuing a career in the world of real events and brought into the theatre, where he mingles with people who present an appearance, a picture, of life. Art itself is, in a certain sense, an image of life. It is not part of immediate reality but raises itself above this reality. Goethe knew very well that the artist, standing alone with his art, is in danger of losing the firm ground of reality from under his feet. It has been well said that the Muse may accompany a man but cannot lead him through life.
To begin with, Wilhelm Meister gives himself over entirely to the forces that belong to art, and especially the art of the theatre, with its beautiful illusions. If we follow the course of his life, we find that he is habitually torn to and fro between dissatisfaction and joy, and these swings of feeling are evident already during his time in the theatre. At last he experiences a kind of model performance of Hamlet, and this gives him a certain satisfaction within the limits of the theatrical world. His Ego is enhanced.
Two episodes are particularly important for understanding this first part of the story, the Years of Apprenticeship, and they show clearly that Goethe had the nature of egoism at the back of his mind. The first episode concerns little Mignon, who is found by Wilhelm Meister in somewhat dubious company and accompanies him as a wonderful attendant for a while.
Some very significant remarks about Mignon were made to Chancellor von Müller51In the conversation of 29th May, 1814. by Goethe in his old age. He referred to Madame von Stael's comment that all the part about Mignon was an episode which did not really belong to the story. Goethe agreed that anyone interested only in the external narrative might say that the Mignon episode could be left out. But it would be quite wrong to suppose, Goethe continued, that the part about Mignon was only an episode; in fact, the whole of Wilhelm Meister had been written on account of this remarkable figure.
Goethe was apt to express himself somewhat radically in conversation and to say things that are not to be taken literally. But if we go more deeply into the matter, we can come to see why he spoke in this way to Chancellor von Müller. In the figure of Mignon—this is not a personal name but means simply “the darling”—we are shown a human being who lives just long enough for the germ of anything that can properly be called egoism to develop in her. The whole psychology of Mignon is most remarkable. In her own naive way she expresses everything that could be called participation in the whole world. She never gives any sign of acting from selfish motives. Things that other people do out of self-interest are done by her quite naturally. She is naive in the sense that egoism has not yet awoken in her. Directly Wilhelm Meister embarks on an episode in his life which breaks his bond of union with Mignon, she fades away and dies, just as a plant withers when it has reached a certain stage in its existence. She is not yet a fully human person, not yet an “Ego”; she represents a childlike naiveté in relation to everything in the world around her. She dies as a plant dies, and one could indeed apply to her the lines:
Not asking why or wherefore blooms the rose,
Cares not for herself or whether men behold her.
One might say that two apparently identical actions are different when they are performed by different persons! What other people do out of egoism Mignon does naturally, and directly that there could be a question of an egoistic impulse arising in her soul, she dies. That is the enchantment of her character: we have before us a human being without ego-hood who slips through our fingers at the first stirring of egoism within her. And since Goethe was specially interested in egoism in Wilhelm Meister, it is quite conceivable that he should have said in effect at the time: What you are looking for in Wilhelm Meister, you will find in his counterpart, Mignon. The impulse that shows itself in the little creature, and dies with her at the moment of its appearance, is the same impulse that plagues Wilhelm Meister with so many difficulties when he tries to develop his Ego, and on account of which he has to go through a complete education in the school of life.
We then find woven into the story of Wilhelm Meister the apparently unconnected part called Confessions of a Beautiful Soul. It is known that these confessions are taken almost word for word from a diary kept by Goethe's friend, Susanne von Klettenberg. They show, one might say, the nature of egoism at its highest point. This beautiful soul, Susanne von Klettenberg, rose indeed to high levels, but these confessions bring out the danger of egoism, the reverse side of the enrichment of the Ego, for it is her own development that Susanne von Klettenberg describes.
First, she relates how, like other people, she delighted in the world around her. Then, one day, something awakens in her soul and tells her: “Living within you is something that will bring you nearer to the God within you.” These inward experiences have the effect of estranging her from the outer world; she no longer feels any interest in it. But she finds continual joy and blessedness and inward happiness in her experience of communion with what she inwardly calls her “God”. She withdraws entirely into her inner life. Yet this beautiful soul cannot escape from the feeling that her chosen way of life is nothing else than a refined form of egoism.
The dawning of this type of spiritual element in the soul, where it estranges a person from the outer world, shuts him off from his environment and makes him cold and heartless towards it, may bring him some satisfaction and a certain happiness, but in the long run it does him no good. By alienating him from the world around him it has a desolating effect on his soul. But this beautiful soul is also an energetic, striving soul, and she goes on from stage to stage.
She is not able to sever herself entirely from the impressions that come from the outer world and can lead to harmony with it. So she is forever seeking the mysteries that underlie the symbols of the various religions, hoping to see reflected there the divinity that had arisen in her soul. But whatever she can experience in these outer forms is not enough for her; she is resolved to go further. Finally, she is led to a remarkable stage in her life. One day she says to herself: Everything human on our earth was not too mean for God to descend and incarnate himself in a man. And at that moment she feels that the outer world is not debased by being only an expression of the spiritual rather than the spiritual itself, or because it represents a decadence of the spiritual; for now she feels that the outer world is permeated by the spirit and that man has no right to detach himself from his environment.
Then another experience comes to her and she says to herself: It was a true event that is said to have taken place in Palestine at the beginning of our era. She enters into this and experiences in herself the whole life of Christ Jesus up to His crucifixion and death. She experiences the divine in herself in such a way that—as she clearly describes—everything which appears to the physical senses as external image recedes and becomes purely spiritual experience; the invisible becomes visible and the inaudible, audible. Now she feels herself united not with an abstract divinity, but with a divine presence belonging to the earthly world. But she has again withdrawn in a certain sense and cannot find her way back into ordinary life. Then something comes to her which enables her to see in every natural object, in every detail and circumstance of daily life, the imprint of the spiritual; and she regards this as a kind of highest stage. And it is characteristic of Goethe that it was for him a kind of confession to be able to communicate the Confessions of a Beautiful Soul.
What was it that Goethe wished to indicate here as an important point in Wilhelm Meister's education? Wilhelm Meister was to read the manuscript and be led by it to a higher stage. He was to be shown that a man cannot do enough to develop in himself an active life of soul; he cannot go far and high enough in what may be called intercourse with the spiritual world; but also that to shut himself off from the outer world cannot lead to a satisfying existence, and that he can understand the great world around him only when his own enriched inner being flows out to meet it.
Thus Goethe wishes to show that a man can take the surrounding world just as it is; he will then see it as ordinary and trivial and will remain bound to the commonplace. But then he will perhaps say to himself: All that is commonplace: the spiritual can be found only by looking within oneself. And we can indeed find the spiritual there, on a very high level. But we are then all the more in duty bound, for our own sake, to return to the outer world; and now we find that the commonplace has a spiritual dimension. The same world stands before a trivially minded man and a man who has found the spirit within himself. The former accepts the ordinary trivial world of present-day Monism; the latter, having first enriched his spiritual faculties and developed the appropriate organs in himself, is aware of the spiritual behind everything perceived by the senses. Thus, for Goethe, inner development is an indirect way of gaining knowledge of the world. This is evident, above all, in the soul characterised as Wilhelm Meister. He is helped to progress by the influences that work on him from the hidden side of life.
Towards the end of the Years of Apprenticeship we are shown that behind Wilhelm Meister there is something like an occult society, which guides a human being while remaining invisible to him. Some critics have complained that this kind of thing belongs to the 18th century and can have no interest for people today. For Goethe, however, something quite different was involved. He wished to show that Wilhelm Meister's Ego really had to find its way through the various labyrinths of life, and that a certain spiritual guidance of mankind does exist. The “Society of the Tower”, by which Wilhelm Meister is guided, was meant to be only the outer garment of spiritual powers and forces by which a man is led, even though the course of his life may lie through “folly and confusion”; and by these invisible powers Wilhelm Meister was guided.
In our time, such things are dismissed with a condescending smile. But in our time, also, the Philistines have acquired the sole right to pass judgment on personalities such as Goethe. Anyone who knows the world will concede that no-one can find more in a man than he has in himself. And anyone could say it in relation to Goethe. But that is just what the Philistine does not say; he believes he has found in Goethe everything there is to find. For he possesses the entire range of wisdom and can survey it from his vantage-point! Naturally, he makes Goethe into a Philistine, but that is not Goethe's fault.
Wilhelm Meister's life is continued in the Years of Travel. Both Philistines and non-Philistines have been moved to protest at the lack of composition and the inartistic character of this sequel. Yes, indeed, Goethe served up something rather dreadful here. In his prime, out of his life-experience, he had wanted to show a person finding their way through the labyrinths of life, had wanted to present a mirror-image of himself in a certain sense; and he has told us how this was composed. He had taken great pains over the first part of the Years of Travel, but printing began before the later part was finished, and the printer set the type faster than Goethe could write. Goethe then had somehow to sketch out the rest. In earlier years he had written various tales and stories, for example the story of the “Holy Family”, the story of the “Nutbrown Maiden”, the “Tale of the New Melusine”, and others. All these are included in the Years of Travel volume, although never intended for it. Goethe inserted these stories at various points and made quick transitions between them. Obviously, anything like orderly composition was ruled out; but still the work did not go fast enough.
Goethe had various other writings left over from earlier years, and these he now gave to his secretary, Eckermann, saying: “Slip in somewhere whatever can be slipped in!” So Eckermann patched in these remnants, and naturally the separate items are often very loosely connected. Hence it can well be said that this is an entirely formless work, and anyone is at liberty to judge it in this way from an artistic standpoint. But, after all, not a line of it was written by Eckermann. It is all by Goethe, and throughout he was giving expression to experiences of his own, with the figure of Wilhelm Meister constantly before him. Thus he was able to bring in events from his own life which had set their mark on his soul. And since Wilhelm Meister is a reflected image of himself, the various episodes meander through the story even as they had meandered through his own life, and the picture we gain from them is by no means irrelevant.
It has been said that the narrative lacks tension and is repeatedly interrupted by sagely discourses. Some people criticise the book from the ground up without having read it. They are, of course, right from their own point of view, but it is not the only one. We can learn an immense amount from these Years of Travel if we can muster the interest and the goodwill to raise ourselves to the level of the experiences from which Goethe learnt so much. And that is something. Must every piece of writing be skillfully composed if it can be of service to us in some other way? Is a lack of formal design so fatal? Perhaps the wealth of wisdom in Wilhelm Meister is fatal for those who know everything and have nothing more to learn.
It is precisely in this second part of Wilhelm Meister that we find described in a wonderful way how the Ego can rise to ever higher levels and become the peak of existence. We are shown in a particularly beautiful way how Wilhelm Meister takes his son Felix to a remarkable educational establishment. This, too, has been condemned by the Philistines. They have not stopped to think that Goethe had no intention of presenting this establishment as though it existed somewhere or other in the real world. He wished to give a kind of symbolic survey of the nature of education in his “pedagogical province”.
People who visit this establishment are surprised to see how the life of the soul is given expression in certain gestures. In one gesture the hands are folded on the breast and the eyes turned upwards. In another, the hands are clasped behind the back while the pupils stand side by side. Especially significant is the gesture which gives an impression of the soul bowing towards the earth. If questions are asked about the meaning of all this, one is told that the boys are taught to kindle in their souls the “three venerations”, whereby the soul's development can be carried to ever higher levels. The three venerations are presented as the most important of all educational principles. First, a man must learn to look up with veneration to what is above him. Then he must learn to venerate what lies beneath him, so that he may realise how he himself has grown up from it. Then he must learn to venerate what stands beside him as equality between man and man, for only thus can he learn to venerate his own Ego in the right way. By these means he will be brought into harmony with the world around him and egoism cannot go astray.
We are then shown how the most important religions are to carry their influences into the human soul. The folk or ethnic religions should take the form of gods or spirits standing above man. The philosophical religions, as they could be called, are to inculcate veneration for our equals. And the teaching that leads us down into existence and enables us to look with proper veneration on death, sorrow and the hindrances in the world—this teaching, though it can easily be despised, leads to a right understanding of the Christian religion. For it is emphasised that the Christian religion shows how God came down into a physical body, took on himself all the misery of life and went through everything human. Veneration for what is below us should especially promote a right understanding of the Christian religion.
Thus the development of the human being is set before us with precision. Goethe describes how Wilhelm Meister is led to a kind of temple, where deeply significant pictures of the three religions are brought before the souls of the pupils from their earliest youth, and we are shown how everything in this utopian school is intended to produce a harmonious whole. But the school gives expression even more to the wise principle that from his earliest years a human being should grow up in such a way that, on the one hand, he finds harmony with his environment, while, on the other, he finds it possible to lead his Ego to ever-greater heights.
This principle is applied to all details. For example, a boy's age is not indicated by the clothes he wears. He is offered a varied range of garments and has to choose those he prefers. In this way the individual characteristics of the pupils are brought out. Moreover, since a kind of esprit de corps is always apt to develop, with the result that a weaker boy will imitate a stronger by choosing the same outfit, to the detriment of his own individuality, the rule is that garments are exchanged for others at frequent intervals. In brief, Goethe wished to show how the growing boy should be educated, even down to his gestures and clothes, in a way that will lead him to a life in harmony with the world around him, while promoting his inner freedom as an individual.
It has been said that all this is a fantasy and that nothing like it has ever existed. But Goethe meant to imply only that the plan could be realised somewhere at some time; the thoughts in question would flow out into the “all and everywhere” and would find an embodiment when and where they could. Those who think this impossible might be advised to read Fichte;52Johann Gottlieb Fichte, 1762–1814. “Vorbericht” to Einige Vorlesungen über die Bestimmung des Gelehrten. he set a high ideal before his students, but he knew what he was doing, and to those who called themselves realists while knowing little about reality, he said: We know as well as you do: and perhaps better, that ideals cannot be realised immediately in ordinary life, but ideals must be there, in order to act as regulators in life and to be transmuted into living. That must be emphasised ever and again. And of those who reject all ideals, Fichte said that in the reckoning of Providence they were left out; but may a good God—he added—grant them rain and sunshine at the right times, a good digestion and, where possible, good thoughts! This saying could be turned against those who assert that the educational establishment in Goethe's Wilhelm Meister could never exist in reality. It could exist, both in its principles and in its details, if there were people ready to give effect to such principles in a setting of everyday life.
A second episode in the Years of Travel introduces a remarkable personality, Makarie, who exemplifies in the highest degree a union of the individual Ego with the great Self of the world. Goethe shows us here a personality who is inwardly awakened and has developed the spirit in herself to such an extent that she lives in the spirit that permeates the world. The liberation of her inner powers gives her the knowledge that an expert astronomer acquires from calculating the courses of the stars. The highest spiritual-scientific researches are indicated by Goethe when he describes how through spiritual science the soul can enter into the life of the universe, and how self-knowledge can become world-knowledge and world-knowledge, self-knowledge. Thus in a series of pictures we are shown how the human self must pursue its development. Rightly understood, Wilhelm Meister is from beginning to end an example of how the development of man is related to the nature of egoism.
If we find in a writer an exposition of a problem so important for Spiritual Science, this is for us a further proof—already apparent in our considerations of Faust, the Tale of the Green Snake and the Beautiful Lily, and Pandora53Rudolf Steiner is here referring to the lectures on 22nd and 24th October 1908: “Goethe's Secret Revelation, Exoteric and Esoteric” and on 11th and 12th March 1909: “The Riddles in Goethe's Faust, Exoteric and Esoteric”.—that in Goethe we have a genius who is at one with our Spiritual Science in its true sense. Goethe himself speaks in this sense when he says, in effect: We can grasp the nature of egoism only if we know that the wisdom of the cosmos had to lead man out of spiritual existence to the point where he could fall into the temptations of egoism. If this possibility had not been open to him, he could not have become the flower of all that surrounds him in the outer world. But if he succumbs to the temptations of egoism, he incurs a sentence of death on himself. The wisdom of the cosmos has ensured that everything good in the world can be overturned and appear in man as freedom, but directly he misuses his freedom and overturns himself, a measure of self-correction comes in.
Here again we have a chapter which shows us how everything bad and sinful in human nature, if we consider it from a higher standpoint, can be transmuted into good—into a pledge of man's eternal, ever ascending progress. And so, if we are not afraid to descend into the depths of pain and evil, all the teachings of spiritual science will lead us eventually to the heights, and will confirm the beautiful words which resound to us from the wisdom and poetry of ancient Greece:
Man is the shadow of a dream, but when
The sun-ray, Heaven-sent,
Shines in upon him, then
His day is bright,
And all his life transfused with sheer delight.54Cf. Pindar (522–C.448 B.C.) Pythian Odes, 8th Ode, 5th Epode.
Das Wesen des Egoismus
Goethes «Wilhelm Meister»
Irgendwo und irgendwann wurde einmal eine Gesellschaft begründet. Sie hatte auf ihr Programm geschrieben: «Die Abschaffung des Egoismus»; das heißt, sie wollte ihre Mitglieder dazu verpflichten, sich zur Selbstlosigkeit, zur Freiheit von allem Egoismus zu erziehen. Sie hatte, wie das alle Gesellschaften tun, sich ihren Präsidenten gewählt, und es handelte sich nun darum, dasjenige, was der Hauptgrundsatz dieser Gesellschaft war, von ihr aus in der Welt zu propagieren. Es wurde in dieser Gesellschaft in der mannigfaltigsten Weise immer wieder und wieder betont, daß keines der Mitglieder irgendwo, namentlich innerhalb der Gesellschaft, auch nur den geringsten egoistischen Wunsch für sich haben sollte, oder gar laut werden lassen sollte irgend etwas von einem egoistischen Begehren und dergleichen.
Nun war das gewiß eine Gesellschaft mit einem außerordentlich lobenswerten Programm und mit einem hohen menschlichen Ziel. Aber man konnte nicht zugleich sagen, daß die Mitglieder in sich selber suchten die Verwirklichung gerade desjenigen, was der allererste Programmpunkt war. Sie lernten kaum irgendwie kennen menschliche unegoistische Wünsche. Es spielte sich sehr häufig innerhalb der Gesellschaft das Folgende ab. Der eine sagte: «Ja, ich möchte dies und das. Das könnte mir doch von der Gesellschaft gewährt werden. Aber wenn ich zum Vorsitzenden gehe, so bringe ich einen egoistischen Wunsch vor. Das ist ganz gegen das Programm der Gesellschaft, das geht doch nicht!» Da sagte ein anderer: «Ganz einfach: Ich gehe für dich. Da vertrete ich deinen Wunsch und bringe etwas vor, was ganz und gar selbstlos ist. Aber sieh einmal! Ich möchte auch etwas haben. Das ist freilich auch etwas durchaus Egoistisches. Das kann man in unserer Gesellschaft nicht vorbringen nach unserem Hauptprogrammpunkt!» Da sagte nun der erste: «Wenn du für mich so selbstlos bist, so werde ich für dich auch etwas tun. Ich werde für dich zum Vorsitzenden gehen und das verlangen, was du willst!» Und so geschah es. Erst kam der eine zum Vorsitzenden; dann, zwei Stunden später, kam der andere. Beide hatten ganz unegoistische Wünsche vorgebracht. Aber das vollzog sich nun nicht nur einmal, sondern das war eigentlich in dieser Gesellschaft so gang und gäbe. Und es konnte selten etwas Egoistisches, irgendein egoistischer Wunsch eines Mitgliedes erfüllt werden, denn er wurde immer in der selbstlosesten Weise von dem andern vorgebracht.
Ich sagte, «irgendwo und irgendwann» gab es diese Gesellschaft. Selbstverständlich ist das, was ich eben charakterisiert habe, eine durchaus hypothetische Gesellschaft. Aber wer ein wenig im Leben Umschau hält, der wird vielleicht sagen: Ein wenig ist von dieser Gesellschaft überall und immer. Es sollte ja auch das, was eben gesagt worden ist, nur vorgebracht werden, um zu kennzeichnen, wie gerade das Wort «Egoismus» eines von denjenigen ist, die im eminentesten Sinne zu Schlagworten werden können, wenn sie nicht unmittelbar in bezug auf das, was sie bezeichnen, in der Welt auftreten, sondern wenn sie in einer Maske, in einem Deckmantel auftreten und in einer gewissen Weise dadurch über sich selbst hinwegtäuschen können.
Das Schlagwort Egoismus und auch sein Gegenteil, das ja seit langer Zeit üblich geworden ist, der Altruismus, die Selbstlosigkeit, sollen uns heute beschäftigen. Aber nicht als Schlagwörter, sondern indem wir ein wenig in das Wesen des Egoismus eindringen wollen. Wo vom Standpunkte der Geisteswissenschaft derlei Dinge betrachtet werden, handelt es sich ja immer weniger darum: Was für eine Sympathie oder Antipathie kann diese oder jene Eigenschaft hervorrufen? Wie kann man sie nach diesem oder jenem schon einmal vorhandenen menschlichen Urteil werten? - sondern es handelt sich vielmehr darum, zu zeigen, wie das, worauf sich das betreffende Wort bezieht, in der menschlichen Seele oder sonst in der Realität entspringt, und in welchen Grenzen es geltend ist; und wenn es bekämpft werden soll als diese oder jene Eigenschaft, wie weit es sich dann bekämpfen läßt durch die menschliche Natur oder die sonstigen Wesenheiten des Daseins.
Seinem Wort nach würde ja der Egoismus diejenige menschliche Eigenschaft sein, wodurch der Mensch solche Interessen im Auge hat, die der Erhöhung seiner eigenen Persönlichkeit förderlich sind, während das Gegenteil, der Altruismus, diejenige menschliche Eigenschaft wäre, welche bezweckte, die menschlichen Fähigkeiten in den Dienst anderer, der ganzen Außenwelt zu stellen. Wie sehr man, wenn man nicht auf die Sache eingeht, sondern sich an Worte hält, gerade hier auf einem gefährlichen Boden steht, das kann eine ganz einfache Betrachtung zeigen. Nehmen wir an, irgend jemand erwiese sich als ein besonderer Wohltäter nach dieser oder jener Seite hin. Es könnte durchaus sein, daß er ein Wohltäter nur aus Egoismus ist, vielleicht aus ganz kleinlichen egoistischen Eigenschaften, vielleicht aus Eitelkeit oder dergleichen. Damit, daß jemand so ohne weiteres ein «Egoist» genannt wird, ist er in bezug auf seinen Charakter noch ganz und gar nicht abgetan. Denn wenn der Mensch nur sich befriedigen will, aber lauter edle Eigenschaften hat, so daß er sich dann am besten gefördert sieht, wenn er den Interessen anderer dient, so kann man sich ja einen solchen «Egoisten» vielleicht gerade gefallen lassen. Das scheint ein Spiel mit Worten zu sein, ist es aber nicht, weil dieses Spiel mit Worten unser ganzes Leben und Dasein durchsetzt und überall, auf allen Gebieten des Daseins, zum Ausdruck kommt.
Für alle Dinge, die sich im Menschen finden, können wir wenigstens etwas Analoges, etwas, das als Gleichnis dienen kann, im übrigen Weltall finden. Daß wir für diese hervorragende Eigenschaft der menschlichen Natur gleichnisweise etwas im Weltall finden können, das mag uns ja der Schillersche Spruch andeuten:
Suchst du das Höchste, das Größte, die Pflanze kann es dich lehren:
Was sie willenlos ist, sei du es wollend! — das ist’s!
Schiller stellt darin vor den Menschen das Pflanzendasein hin und empfiehlt ihm, in seinem Charakter etwas auszubilden, was so edel wie die Pflanze auf einer gewissen niederen Stufe ist. Und der große deutsche Mystiker Angelus Silesius spricht ungefähr dasselbe aus:
Die Ros’ ist ohn Warum, sie blühet, weil sie blüher,
Sie acht’t nicht ihrer selbst, fragt nicht, ob man sie siehet.
Auch da werden wir auf das Pflanzendasein hingewiesen. Die Pflanze nimmt, was sie zum Wachstum braucht, in sich auf; sie fragt nicht nach «Warum» und «Weil»; sie blüht, weil sie blüht, und kümmert sich nicht darum, wem sie dient. Und dennoch: weil sie ihre Lebenskräfte in sich aufnimmt, weil sie aus der Umgebung alles herauszieht, was sie gerade für sich braucht, dadurch gerade wird sie für ihre Umgebung - schließlich auch für den Menschen - dasjenige, was sie sein kann. Sie wird das denkbar nützlichste Geschöpf, wenn sie gerade jenen Gebieten der Pflanzenwelt angehört, die dem Leben der höheren Wesen dienen können. Und es ist zwar schon oftmals gesagt worden, ist aber durchaus nicht trivial, wenn noch einmal gesagt wird:
Wenn die Rose selbst sich schmückt,
Schmückt sie auch den Garten.
Der Garten wird geschmückt durch die Rose, wenn sie selbst so schön wie möglich ist. Wir können das einmal verbinden mit dem Wort Egoismus und sagen: Wenn die Rose so recht egoistisch schön sein will, sich so herrlich als möglich gestalten will, wird durch sie der Garten so schön als möglich. Dürfen wir das, was sich so an einem niederen Naturreich ausdrückt, in gewisser Weise auch auf den Menschen ausdehnen? Wir brauchen es gar nicht zu tun; viele andere haben es vor uns getan, und am schönsten hat es Goethe getan. Als Goethe ausdrücken wollte, was der Mensch im eigentlichsten Sinne des Wortes ist, wodurch er am meisten die Würde und den ganzen Inhalt seines Daseins zeigt, sprach er die Worte aus: «Wenn die gesunde Natur des Menschen als ein Ganzes wirkt, wenn er sich in der Welt als in einem großen, schönen, würdigen und werten Ganzen fühlt, wenn das harmonische Behagen ihm ein reines, freies Entzücken gewährt: dann würde das Weltall, wenn es sich selbst empfinden könnte, als an sein Ziel gelangt aufjauchzen und den Gipfel des eigenen Werdens und Wesens bewundern.» Und ein andermal sagte Goethe in dem herrlichen Buche über «Winckelmann», wo auch die eben angeführten Worte stehen: «Indem der Mensch auf den Gipfel der Natur gestellt ist, so sieht er sich wieder als eine ganze Natur an, die in sich abermals einen Gipfel hervorzubringen hat. Dazu steigert er sich, indem er sich mit allen Vollkommenheiten und Tugenden durchdringt, Wahl, Ordnung, Harmonie und Bedeutung aufruft, und sich endlich bis zur Produktion des Kunstwerkes erhebt.»
Die ganze Gesinnungsart Goethes zeigt uns aber, daß er nur spezialisiert auf den Künstler, und wie er namentlich meint: Wenn der Mensch auf den Gipfel der Natur gestellt ist, nimmt er alles zusammen, was die Welt in ihm ausdrücken kann und zeigt zuletzt der Welt aus sich selbst heraus ihr Spiegelbild; und die Natur würde aufjauchzen, wenn sie dieses ihr Spiegelbild in der Seele des Menschen wahrnehmen und empfinden könnte! Was heißt das anderes als: Alles, was uns im Weltendasein umgibt, was ‘draußen Natur, was draußen Geist ist, konzentriert sich im Menschen, steigt hinauf auf einen Gipfel und wird in dem einzelnen Menschen, in dieser menschlichen Individualität, in diesem menschlichen Ego so schön, so wahr, so vollkommen als möglich sein. Daher wird der Mensch sein Dasein am besten erfüllen, wenn er so viel als möglich heranzieht aus der Umwelt, und dieses sein Ich, sein Ego, so reich als möglich gestaltet. Dann eignet er sich alles an, was in der Welt ist, und was in ihm selbst zur Blüte, ja, zur Frucht des Daseins kommen kann.
Es liegt einer solchen Anschauungsweise zugrunde, daß? der Mensch gar nicht genug tun kann, um wirklich in sich selber alles zusammenzufassen, was in der Umwelt ist, um eine Art Blüte und Gipfel des übrigen Daseins darzustellen. Wollte man das «Egoismus» nennen, so könnte man es ja tun. Man könnte dann sagen: Das menschliche Ego ist dazu da, ein Organ zu sein für das, was sonst ewig in der übrigen Natur verborgen bliebe, und was nur dadurch zum Ausdruck kommen kann, daß es im menschlichen Geiste sich konzentriert. So möchte man sagen, daß es zum Wesen des Menschen gehört, in seinem Selbst zusammenzufassen das übrige Dasein, das um ihn herum ist. Nun liegt es aber in der Natur und im Wesen des Menschen, daß er dasjenige, was als allgemeines Gesetz draußen in den niederen Reichen zum Höchsten, zum Größten führt, in sich selbst zur Verirrung, zum Irrtum bringen kann. Das ist verbunden mit dem, was wir menschliche Freiheit nennen. Niemals könnte der Mensch ein freies Dasein haben, wenn er nicht in sich selber die Fähigkeit hätte, gewisse Kräfte, die in ihm sind, in einseitiger Weise zu mißbrauchen, so daß diese Kräfte auf der einen Seite zum höchsten Dasein führen, auf der anderen Seite das Dasein verkehren, vielleicht sogar zur Karikatur machen. Das kann uns durch einen einfachen Vergleich klar werden. Gehen wir noch einmal zur Pflanze zurück.
Bei der Pflanze fällt es uns gar nicht ein, im allgemeinen von Egoismus zu sprechen. Nur um uns das Gesetz des Egoismus in der ganzen Welt klar zu machen, haben wir gesagt: Was sich an den Pflanzen ausdrückt, könnte Egoismus genannt werden. Aber bei der Pflanze sprechen wir keineswegs von Egoismus. Wenn das Pflanzendasein nicht im materialistischen Sinne, sondern dem Geiste nach betrachtet wird, dann kann man bemerken, daß die Pflanze in gewisser Weise gefeit ist, überhaupt zum Egoismus zu kommen. Auf der einen Seite ist sie wohl in ihrem Dasein darauf angewiesen, sich so schön zu machen, als es ihr möglich ist. Und sie fragt sich nicht: Wem dient diese Schönheit? Wenn aber die Pflanze ihr ganzes Dasein in sich selber zusammenfaßt, wenn sie zur höchsten Entfaltung ihres Eigenwesens aufsteigt, dann ist für sie bereits der Zeitpunkt eingetreten, wo sie dieses Eigenwesen abgeben muß. Es ist etwas Eigentümliches um den Sinn des Pflanzendaseins. Goethe sagt sehr schön in seinen Sprüchen in Prosa: «In den Blüten tritt das vegetabilische Gesetz in seine höchste Erscheinung, und die Rose wäre nur wieder der Gipfel dieser Erscheinung... Die Frucht kann nie schön sein; denn da tritt das vegetabilische Gesetz in sich (ins bloße Gesetz) zurück.» Das heißt, ihm ist klar, daß die Pflanze, wenn sie blüht, ihr eigenes Gesetz am augenscheinlichsten zum Ausdruck bringt. In dem Augenblick, wo sie blüht, muß sie aber auch bereit sein, ihr Schönstes in der Befruchtung abzugeben, da ist sie angewiesen, dieses ihr Selbst hinzuopfern an ihre Nachfolgerin, an den Fruchtkeim. Daher liegt wirklich etwas Großes darinnen, daß die Pflanze in dem Augenblick, wo sie zur Ausprägung ihres Ich kommen würde, sich selbst hinopfern muß. Das heißt, wir sehen an diesem niederen Reiche, daß der Egoismus in der Natur bis zu einem Punkt heransteigt, wo er sich selbst vernichtet, wo er sich hingibt, um etwas Neues hervorzubringen. Was am höchsten in der Pflanze entfaltet ist, was man die Individualität, das Selbst der Pflanze nennen könnte, was mit der Blüte in voller Schönheit hervorbricht, das beginnt zu welken in dem Moment, wo der neue Pflanzenkeim hervorgebracht ist.
Nun fragen wir uns einmal: Ist im Menschenreiche vielleicht etwas Ähnliches der Fall? Und in der Tat, wenn wir die Natur und das Geistesleben eben dem Geiste nach betrachten, werden wir finden, daß im Menschenreiche etwas ganz Ähnliches der Fall ist. Der Mensch ist ja nicht nur dazu berufen, Wesen seinesgleichen hervorzubringen, das heißt in der Gattung zu leben, sondern, was über die Gattung hinausgeht, das Leben der Individualität in sich selber zu führen. Was Egoismus beim Menschen ist, werden wir in seiner wahren Gestalt erst richtig erkennen können, wenn wir die Wesenheit des Menschen so vor uns hinstellen, wie wir das in den letzten Vorträgen kennengelernt haben.
Im geisteswissenschaftlichen Sinne betrachten wir den Menschen nicht bloß als einen physischen Leib, den ja der Mensch gemeinschaftlich hat mit der ganzen mineralischen Natur, sondern wir sprechen davon, daß der Mensch in sich trägt als ein höheres Glied seiner Wesenheit zunächst den Ätherleib oder Lebensleib, den er mit allem Lebenden gemeinschaftlich hat; daß er sodann mit dem gesamten Tierreich gemeinsam hat den Träger von Lust und Leid, Freude und Schmerz, den wir den astralischen Leib oder den Bewußtseinsleib nennen; und wir sprechen davon, daß innerhalb dieser drei Glieder des Menschen sein eigentlicher Wesenskern lebt, das Ich. Dieses Ich müssen wir auch als den Träger des Egoismus im berechtigten und unberechtigten Sinne ansehen. Nun besteht alle Entwickelung des Menschen darin, daß er von seinem Ich aus die drei übrigen Glieder seiner Wesenheit umgestaltet. Auf einer unvollkommenen Stufe des Daseins ist das Ich der Sklave der drei unteren Glieder, des physischen Leibes, des Ätherleibes und des astralischen Leibes. Wenn wir nun den astralischen Leib betrachten, können wir sagen: der Mensch folgt auf einer untergeordneten Stufe seines Daseins allen Trieben, Begierden und Leidenschaften. Aber je höher er sich entwickelt, desto mehr läutert er seinen astralischen Leib, das heißt, er verwandelt dasjenige, dessen Sklave er ist, in etwas, was von seiner höheren Natur, von seinem Ich aus beherrscht wird, so daß das Ich immer mehr und mehr Herrscher und Läuterer wird der übrigen Glieder der menschlichen Wesenheit. Und auch das ist schon in vorhergehenden Vorträgen angeführt worden, daß der Mensch heute mitten in dieser Entwickelung drinnen steht und einer Zukunft entgegengeht, in welcher das Ich immer mehr Herrscher geworden sein wird über alle drei Glieder der menschlichen Natur. Denn indem der Mensch den astralischen Leib umwandelt, erzeugt er in demselben dasjenige, was wir das «Geistselbst» nennen, oder mit einem Ausdruck der orientalischen Philosophie «Manas». Wie der Mensch heute lebt, hat er einen Teil seines astralischen Leibes umgewandelt in Manas. Weiter wird es dem Menschen in der Zukunft möglich sein, seinen Ätherleib umzugestalten; und den so umgestalteten Teil des Ätherleibes nennt man den «Lebensgeist», oder die «Buddhi» mit einem Ausdruck der orientalischen Philosophie. Und wenn der Mensch Herr wird über die Vorgänge seines physischen Leibes, dann bezeichnen wir diesen umgewandelten Teil des physischen Leibes als «Atman» oder als den «Geistesmenschen». So blicken wir auf eine Zukunft, von der heute nur die Anfänge vor uns stehen, in welcher der Mensch bewußt von seinem Ich aus der Regler, der Herrscher sein wird über seine gesamte Tätigkeit.
Aber was so einmal bewußt dem Menschen zu eigen sein wird, das ist in der menschlichen Natur vorbereitet seit langen Zeiten. Und in einer gewissen Weise hat das Ich auch schon unbewußt oder unterbewußt gearbeitet an den drei Gliedern der menschlichen Natur. Wir finden, daß dieses Ich schon in grauer Vorzeit einen Teil des astralischen Leibes, den wir auch den Empfindungsleib nennen, umgewandelt hat in die «Empfindungsseele»; daß umgewandelt worden ist ein Teil des Ätherleibes in dasjenige, was wir in den verflossenen Vorträgen «Verstandesseele» oder «Gemütsseele» nannten; und endlich ist ein Teil des physischen Leibes umgewandelt zum Dienste des Ich, das ist die «Bewußtseinsseele». So haben wir drei Glieder der menschlichen Wesenheit als Innerlichkeit der menschlichen Natur: die Empfindungsseele, die im Grunde genommen wurzelt im Empfindungsleib; die Verstandes- oder Gemütsseele, die im Ätherleibe wurzelt; und die Bewußtseinsseele, die im physischen Leibe wurzelt. Des Menschen Innerlichkeit interessiert uns heute vor allen Dingen insoweit, als das Verhältnis seines Empfindungsleibes zur Empfindungsseele in Betracht kommt.
Wenn wir einen Menschen heranwachsen sehen von der Geburtsstunde an und betrachten, wie immer mehr und mehr seine Fähigkeiten sich wie aus dunklen Untergründen seiner Leiblichkeit herausentwickeln, so können wir sagen: Da arbeitet sich an das Tageslicht herauf des Menschen Empfindungsseele. Denn den Empfindungsleib hat der Mensch auferbaut erhalten aus der ganzen Umgebung seines Seins heraus. Das können wir verstehen, wenn wir uns wieder an ein Goethewort erinnern: Das Auge ist vom Lichte für das Licht gebildet. - Wenn wir irgendein menschliches Sinnesorgan nehmen, durch das der Mensch zum Bewußtsein der physischen Außenwelt kommt, so gilt nicht nur der eine, von Schopenhauer einseitig hervorgekehrte Satz, daß das Licht nicht wahrgenommen werden könnte, wenn der Mensch kein Auge hätte, sondern auf der anderen Seite gilt ebenso der Satz: Wenn es kein Licht gäbe, könnte es kein Auge geben. In unendlich langen Zeiträumen hat - wie Goethe sagt — das Licht, das überall ausgebreitet ist, am Organismus gearbeitet, indem es aus unbestimmten Anfängen jenes Organs heraus gearbeitet hat, das heute fähig ist, das Licht zu schauen. Das Auge ist durch das Licht am Lichte für das Licht gebildet. Wenn wir auf unsere Umwelt schauen, können wir darin die Kräfte sehen, die am Menschen die Fähigkeiten herausgearbeitet haben, dieser Umwelt sich bewußt zu werden. So ist der ganze Empfindungsleib, das ganze Gefüge, wodurch wir in ein Verhältnis kommen zur Umwelt, herausgearbeitet aus den lebendigen Kräften der Umwelt. Daran haben wir als Menschen keinen Anteil. Ein Produkt, eine Blüte der Umwelt ist der astralische Leib. Darinnen erscheint nun im Empfindungsleib die Empfindungsseele. Diese Empfindungsseele ist dadurch entstanden, daß das Ich gewissermaßen herausgliederte, plastisch herausgestaltete aus der Substanz des Empfindungsleibes die Empfindungsseele. So lebt das Ich im Empfindungsleib und saugt gleichsam die Substanz heraus für die Empfindungsseele.
Nun kann dieses Ich in zweifacher Weise arbeiten: Einmal so, daß es in sich selber jene innerlichen seelischen Fähigkeiten der Empfindungsseele entwickelt, die im Einklang stehen mit den Fähigkeiten und Eigenschaften des Empfindungsleibes und damit harmonisch zusammenklingen. Das kann uns klar werden an einem Beispiel, das wir der Erziehung entnehmen können. Gerade die Erziehung gibt uns die schönsten und praktischsten Grundsätze für das, was Geisteswissenschaft ist.
Der Empfindungsleib ist herausgebaut aus der Umgebung. An dem Empfindungsleib arbeiten diejenigen, welche als Erzieher um das Kind herum sind vom Anfang des physischen Daseins an. Sie können dem Empfindungsleib dasjenige übermitteln, was das Ich anweist, solche seelischen Eigenschaften zu haben, die mit den Eigenschaften des Empfindungsleibes im Einklang stehen. Aber es kann auch etwas an das Kind herangebracht werden, was widerspricht den Eigenschaften des Empfindungsleibes. Wenn das Kind so erzogen wird, daß es in der lebendigsten Weise Interesse hat für alles, was durch seine Augen in es eintritt, wenn es in der richtigen Weise sich zu erfreuen vermag an den Farben und Formen, oder wenn es sich in der richtigen Weise zu beseligen weiß an dem Ton, wenn es allmählich Harmonie hervorzubringen vermag zwischen dem, was von außen hereinschaut, und dem, was in der Empfindungsseele auftaucht als Freude, als Lust, als Anteil und Interesse am Dasein, dann ist das, was von innen kommt, ein richtiges Spiegelbild des Daseins; dann kann das zusammenklingen, was in der Seele lebt, mit dem äußeren Dasein. Dann können wir davon sprechen, daß der Mensch nicht nur in sich lebt, nicht nur fähig ist, in seinem Empfindungsleib eine Empfindungsseele auszugestalten, sondern daß er fähig geworden ist, wieder aus sich herauszugehen; da ist er nicht nur imstande, dasjenige, wozu ihn die Natur befähigt, zu sehen, zu hören, sondern da ist er imstande, zu dem Gesehenen, zu dem Gehörten wieder hinauszugehen, sich zu ergießen in die Umwelt, zu leben in dem, was ihm sein Empfindungsleib vermittelt. Dann ist nicht nur Einklang zwischen Empfindungsleb und Empfindungsseele vorhanden, dann ist Einklang vorhanden zwischen der Umwelt und den Erlebnissen der Empfindungsseele. Dann ergießt sich die Empfindungsseele in die Umwelt; dann ist der Mensch wirklich eine Art Spiegel des Universums, eine Art Mikrokosmos, eine kleine Welt, die sich — nach Goethe — mit Behagen fühlt in der weiten, schönen und großen Welt.
Wir können noch ein anderes Beispiel gebrauchen: Wenn ein Kind heranwachsen würde auf einer einsamen Insel, fern von jeder menschlichen Gesellschaft, dann könnte es gewisse Fähigkeiten nicht in sich entwickeln. Es würde nicht Sprache, nicht die Fähigkeit des Denkens, nicht jene edlen Eigenschaften entwickeln, die nur aus dem Zusammenleben mit Menschen aufleuchten können in der menschlichen Seele. Denn das sind Eigenschaften, die sich im Innern des Menschen, in der Seele entwickeln.
Nun kann der Mensch sich so entwickeln, daß er mit seinen Eigenschaften wieder herausgeht aus sich selber, einen Einklang schafft mit der Umwelt; oder aber er kann auch diese Eigenschaften in sich selber verhärten, sie in sich selber zum Vertrocknen bringen. Zum Vertrocknen bringt der Mensch dasjenige, was in der Empfindungsseele auftaucht, wenn er zwar die Eindrücke der Außenwelt, Farbe, Ton und so weiter in sich aufnimmt, aber in sich selber kein Echo erweckt, um mit Lust und Interesse die Eindrücke wieder in die Außenwelt hinauszuergießen. Verhärtet wird der Mensch in sich, wenn er das, was er am Umgange mit Menschen entwickeln kann, nicht wiederum anwendet, um es im Zusammenhang mit Menschen auszuleben. Wenn er sich abschließt, nur in sich selber damit leben will, dann kommt er in eine Disharmonie zwischen sich und dem, was ihn umgibt. Eine Kluft richtet er auf zwischen seiner Empfindungsseele und seinem Empfindungsleib. Wenn der Mensch sich abschließt, nachdem er zuerst die Früchte der Menschheitsentwickelung genossen hat, wenn er das, was nur innerhalb seiner Mitmenschenwelt gedeihen kann, nicht wieder in den Dienst der Menschheit stellt, dann wird eine Kluft errichtet zwischen dem Menschen und der Umwelt; sei es der ganzen großen Umwelt, wenn der Mensch sich ohne Interesse der Außenwelt gegenüberstellt; sei es der menschlichen Umwelt, von der er die schönsten Interessen empfangen hat. Und die Folge ist, daß der Mensch in sich selber vertrocknet. Denn was von außen an den Menschen herankommt, kann nur den Menschen fördern und beleben, wenn es nicht losgerissen wird von seiner Wurzel. Es ist so, wie wenn der Mensch losgerissen würde von seiner Lebenswurzel, wenn er nicht sein Seelisches in seine Außenwelt ergießen wollte. Und wenn der Mensch seinen Abschluß von der Außenwelt immer mehr und mehr steigert, so ist das Dahinwelken, der Tod des seelischen Lebens die Folge. Das ist gerade die schlimme Seite des Egoismus, die wir jetzt zu charakterisieren haben, die dadurch entsteht, daß der Mensch mit seinem Ich so arbeitet, daß er eine Kluft aufrichtet zwischen sich und der Umwelt.
Wenn der Egoismus diese Form annimmt, daß der Mensch nicht die Blüte der ganzen Außenwelt ist und nicht fortwährend ernährt und belebt wird von der Außenwelt, dann führt er zu seinem eigenen Ersterben. Das ist der Riegel, der im allgemeinen dem Egoismus vorgeschoben ist. Und hier zeigt sich, worinnen das Wesen des Egoismus besteht: Es besteht auf der einen Seite darin, daß in der Tat das Weltall, das um uns herum ist, in dem Menschen selber einen Gipfel und eine Blüte erlangt dadurch, daß der Mensch die Kräfte dieses Weltalls in sich hineinziehen kann; daß er aber andererseits dasjenige bewußt ausführen muß, was die Pflanze unbewußt ausführt. In dem Augenblick, wo die Pflanze in sich selbst ihr Wesen ausprägen soll, führt dasjenige, was hinter der Pflanze ist, das Egoistische der Pflanze in eine neue Pflanze über. Aber der Mensch als ein selbstbewußtes Wesen, als ein Ich-Träger, ist in die Lage versetzt, diesen Einklang in sich selber herzustellen. Was er von außen empfängt, das soll er auf einer gewissen Stufe wiederum hingeben, sozusagen ein höheres Ich in seinem Ich gebären, das nicht in sich verhärtet, sondern das mit der ganzen übrigen Welt sich in Einklang setzt.
Diese Erkenntnis kann dem Menschen auch durch die Betrachtung des Lebens kommen, daß der Egoismus, wenn er sich einseitig ausbildet, sich in sich selber ertötet. Die gewöhnliche Betrachtung des Lebens kann dazu führen, dies zu bewahrheiten. Wir brauchen nur einmal auf diejenigen Menschen zu schauen, die keinen lebendigen Anteil haben können an der großen Gesetzmäßigkeit und an der Schönheit der Natur, aus der heraus der menschliche Organismus selber gebildet ist. Wie leidvoll muß es denjenigen berühren, der die ganzen Zusammenhänge betrachten kann, wenn die Menschen gleichgültig an all dem vorübergehen, da doch ihr Auge, ihr Ohr aus dem Äußeren entstanden ist, wenn sie sich dem verschließen, worinnen die Wurzeln ihres Daseins liegen und nur in sich selber grübelnd sein wollen. Da sehen wir, wie das Dasein, das in dieser Weise in sich selber verkehrt wird, den Menschen auch wiederum straft. Der Mensch, der achtlos an dem vorbeigeht, dem er sein eigenes Dasein verdankt, der geht als ein blasierter Mensch durch die Welt; und die Folge ist, daß er von Begierde zu Begierde eilt und gar nicht erkennt, daß er dasjenige, was ihn befriedigen soll, sucht in einem unbestimmten Nebulosen, während er selber sein Wesen ausgießen sollte in dasjenige hinein, aus dem das Seinige genommen ist. Wer durch die Welt geht und sagt: Ach, die Menschen sind mir so zur Last, ich kann gar nichts mit ihnen anfangen; ein jeder stört mir mein Dasein; ich bin viel zu gut für diese Welt! — der sollte nur bedenken, daß er dasjenige verleugnet, aus dem er selber hervorgewachsen ist. Wäre er auf einer einsamen Insel aufgezogen worden ohne die Menschheit, für die er sich zu gut hält, er wäre dumm geblieben, er hätte gar nicht die Fähigkeiten entwickelt, die er hat. Was er an sich so groß und lobenswert findet, könnte nicht da sein ohne diejenigen Menschen, mit denen er nichts anfangen kann. Er müßte sich klar sein, daß er nur durch seine Willkür das, was in ihm lebt, abtrennt von seiner Umgebung, daß er dasjenige, was sich so auflehnt gegen die Umgebung, gerade der Umgebung zu verdanken hat. Wenn der Mensch sich so auflehnt gegen Natur- und Menschendasein, erstirbt in ihm nicht nur das Interesse für Natur- und Menschendasein, sondern dann verwelkt in ihm die Lebenskraft; dann geht er durch ein ödes, unbefriedigtes Dasein. Alle diejenigen Existenzen, die in Weltschmerz schwelgen, weil sie nirgends Interesse fassen können, die sollten sich einmal fragen: Wo ist der Grund meines Egoismus? Hier zeigt sich aber auch, daß es im Weltall ein Gesetz gibt: die Selbstkorrektur alles Daseins. Wo der Egoismus verkehrt auftritt, da führt er zur Verödung des Daseins. Wenn der Mensch ohne Anteil an seinen Mitmenschen und an der übrigen Welt durch das Leben geht, dann läßt er nicht nur seine Kräfte ungehoben, die er aufwenden könnte für Welt und Dasein, sondern er ver- öder und vernichtet sich selber. Das ist das Gute am Egoismus, daß er, wenn er auf die Spitze getrieben wird, den Menschen zermalmt.
Wenn wir das große Gesetz, das wir aus dem Wesen des Egoismus gewonnen haben, jetzt anwenden auf die verschiedenen Fähigkeiten der menschlichen Seele, können wir jetzt zum Beispiel fragen: Wie wirkt nun der menschliche Egoismus zurück auf die Bewußiseinsseele, wodurch der Mensch zum Wissen, zur Erkenntnis seiner Umwelt kommt? Mit anderen Worten: Wann kann nur eine Erkenntnis wirklich fruchtbar sein? Nur dann kann eine Erkenntnis wirklich fruchtbar sein, wenn sie den Menschen in Einklang bringt mit der ganzen übrigen Welt; das heißt, nur diejenigen Begriffe und Ideen sind wirklich belebend für die menschliche Seele, die genommen sind aus der Umwelt, aus dem lebendigen Weltbild. Nur wenn wir eins werden mit der Welt, wird diese Erkenntnis belebend sein. Daher ist alle Erkenntnis, welche von der Seele loskommt, welche vor allen Dingen die großen Wahrheiten des Daseins Schritt für Schritt sucht, so gesundheitsfördernd für die Seele - und von da aus auch für den äußeren physischen Leib des Menschen. Dagegen ist alles, was uns herausbringt aus dem lebendigen Zusammenhang mit der Welt, alles Grübeln in sich selber, was nur in sich hineinbrütet, etwas, was uns in Mißklang bringt mit der ganzen übrigen Welt, uns in uns selber verhärtet. Hier ist wiederum Gelegenheit, hinzuweisen auf das weit und breit vorhandene Mißverständnis des Wortes «Erkenne dich selbst!» welches seine Bedeutung hat für alle Zeiten. Erst wenn der Mensch begriffen hat, daß er der ganzen Welt angehört, daß sein Selbst nicht nur innerhalb seiner Haut liegt, sondern über die ganze Welt ausgebreitet ist, über Sonne, Sterne, über alle Wesen der Erde, und daß sich dieses Selbst nur einen Ausdruck verschafft innerhalb seiner Haut, erst wenn er seine Verwobenheit mit der ganzen Welt erkannt hat, kann er den Spruch anwenden: «Erkenne dich selbst!» Dann ist Selbsterkenntnis Welterkenntnis. Wenn er sich aber nicht vorher damit durchdrungen hat, ist er genau so gescheit wie der einzelne Finger, der etwa glauben wollte, er könnte ein eigenes Selbst entfalten ohne den Organismus. Schneiden Sie ihn ab, so wird er ganz gewiß in drei Wochen kein Finger mehr sein. Der Finger gibt sich nicht der Illusion hin, daß er ohne den Organismus bestehen kann. Nur der Mensch meint, daß er ohne Zusammenhang sein könnte mit der Welt. Welterkenntnis ist Selbsterkenntnis, und Selbsterkenntnis ist Welterkenntnis. Und alles Brüten in sich selber ist nur ein Zeichen, daß wir nicht von uns loskommen können.
Daher ist es ein ungeheurer Unfug, der gerade heute in gewissen theosophischen Kreisen getrieben wird, wenn man sagt: Nicht in der Welt draußen, nicht in den vom Geist durchwobenen Erscheinungen, sondern in dem eigenen Selbst liege die Lösung der Daseinsrätsel. «Den Gott in der eigenen Brust finden», so hört man heute manche Anweisung geben. «Ihr braucht euch nicht zu bemühen, draußen im Weltall nach Offenbarungen des Weltgeistes zu suchen; blickt nur in euch selber hinein, da findet ihr schon alles!» Eine solche Anweisung erweist dem Menschen einen recht schlechten Dienst; sie macht ihn hochmütig, egoistisch in bezug auf die Erkenntnis. Dadurch kommt es denn, daß gewisse theosophische Richtungen, statt den Menschen zur Selbstlosigkeit zu erziehen, statt ihn loszulösen von seinem eigenen Selbst und in Verbindung zu bringen mit den großen Daseinsrätseln, ihn in sich selber verhärten, wenn sie behaupten, er könne die ganze Wahrheit und die ganze Weisheit in sich selber finden. An den Hochmut, an die Eitelkeit der Menschen kann man appellieren, wenn man sagt: Ihr braucht nichts zu lernen in der Welt; ihr findet alles in euch selber! An die Wahrheit appelliert man nur, wenn man zeigt, daß der Einklang mit der großen Welt uns dahin führt, wo der Mensch in sich selber größer und dadurch innerhalb der Welt größer werden kann.
So ist es auch mit dem, was wir das menschliche Gefühl, den ganzen Inhalt der menschlichen Gemüts- oder Verstandesseele nennen können. Das wird kräftiger, wenn der Mensch eine Harmonie herzustellen weiß zwischen sich und der Außenwelt. Nicht dadurch kann der Mensch stark und kräftig werden, daß er vom Morgen bis zum Abend darüber nachbrütet: Was soll ich jetzt denken? Was soll ich jetzt tun? Was tut mir nun wieder weh? — und so weiter, sondern dadurch, daß er auf sein Herz wirken läßt, was an Schönheit und Größe in der ganzen Umgebung ist, daß er Verständnis und Interesse hat für alles, was in andern Herzen warm erglüht, oder was andere Menschen entbehren. In dem Aufsteigenlassen derjenigen Gefühle, welche Verständnis, lebendigen Anteil entwickeln mit unserer Umwelt, bilden wir Lebenskräfte in der Gefühlswelt in uns selber aus. Da überwinden wir den engherzigen Egoismus und erhöhen und bereichern unser Ich, indem wir es in Einklang stellen in dem wahren Egoismus mit unserer Umwelt. Das kommt insbesondere zum Ausdruck, wo das menschliche Wollen in Betracht kommt, die eigentliche Bewußtseinsseele. So lange der Mensch nur wollen kann für sich selber, so lange seine Willensimpulse nur das anstreben, was seinem eigenen Wesen förderlich ist, wird er sich immer in sich unbefriedigt fühlen. Erst wenn er in der Außenwelt sieht das Spiegelbild seines Willensentschlusses, wenn sich da die Verwirklichung seiner Willensimpulse abspielt, kann er sagen, daß er sein Wollen mit dem in Einklang gebracht hat, was in der Umwelt geschieht. Da ist es in der Tat so, daß unsere eigene Stärke und Kraft nicht an dem ausgebildet wird, was wir für uns selber wollen, sondern daß wir wollen für die Umwelt, für die anderen Menschen; daß sich unser Wille realisiert und als Spiegelbild wieder in uns hereinscheint. Wie das Licht das Auge aus uns herausbildet, so bildet sich unsere Seelenstärke aus uns selber heraus durch die Welt unserer Taten, unseres Wirkens.
So sehen wir, wie der Mensch als selbstbewußtes Wesen durch eine richtige Erfassung seines Ich, seines Ego, den Einklang herstellt mit dem, was wir die Außenwelt nennen, bis er aus sich herauswächst und das vollzieht, was wir nennen können die Geburt eines höheren Menschen, und er etwas in sich hervorbringt, wie die Pflanze auf einer niederen Stufe aus sich ein neues Wesen hervorbringt, da, wo sie vor der Gefahr steht, sich selber zu verhärten. So müssen wir das Wesen des Egoismus erfassen. Gerade das Ich, das sich befruchten läßt von der Umwelt, das auf einem Gipfel des Daseins ein neues Ich hervorbringt, wird dazu reif sein, überzufließen in den Taten, welche sich sonst nur ausdrücken können in wertlosen Forderungen, in wertlosen sittlichen Postulaten. Denn nur durch Welterkenntnis wird ein Wollen entfacht, das sich auch wieder auf die Welt beziehen kann. Durch irgendwelche Programmpunkte einer Gesellschaft wird man niemals zur Erfüllung sittlicher Forderungen kommen können, und wenn noch so viele Gesellschaften die allgemeine Menschenliebe zu ihrem ersten Programmpunkt haben. Alles gewöhnliche Predigen von Menschenliebe nimmt sich da nicht anders aus, als wenn ein Ofen in einem kalten Zimmer steht und man zu ihm sagt: Lieber Ofen, deine sittliche Ofenpflicht ist es, das Zimmer warm zu machen! — Da könnten Sie sich stundenlang, tagelang hinstellen — dem Ofen wird es gar nicht einfallen, das Zimmer warm zu machen. So fällt es Menschen gar nicht ein, Menschenliebe zu üben, wenn Sie auch jahrhundertelang predigen, daß sich die Menschen lieben sollen. Führen Sie aber das menschliche Ego zusammen mit dem ganzen Welteninhalt, lassen Sie den Menschen Anteil gewinnen an dem, was zuerst hervorbricht aus den physischen Blumen, aus all den Schönheiten der Natur, dann werden Sie schon sehen, daß diese Anteilnahme auch wiederum die Grundlage ist für den höheren Anteil, den der Mensch am Menschen gewinnen kann. Und dadurch, daß der Mensch menschliche Wesenheiten, menschliche Naturen kennen lernt, dadurch lernt er in der Tat, wenn er Auge in Auge dem andern gegenübersteht, Verständnis zu haben für seine Fehler, für seine Vorzüge.
Solche Weisheit, die herausgeboren ist aus lebendiger Welteinsicht, geht über in das Blut, in die Taten, in den Willen. Und was man Menschenliebe nennt, das wird geboren aus solcher Weisheit heraus. Gerade so wie Sie gar nicht schwatzen brauchen vor dem Ofen: Lieber Ofen, es ist deine Pflicht, das Zimmer warm zu machen! — sondern einfach Holz und Feuer hineinlegen und einheizen, so sollten Sie dem Menschen Holz und Feuer geben, die seine Seele entzünden, erwärmen und durchleuchten: das ist lebendige Welterkenntnis, wo Verständnis der menschlichen Natur, wo harmonisches Zusammenklingen des menschlichen Ego mit der übrigen Außenwelt vorhanden ist. Da ersteht auch die lebendige Menschenliebe, das, was hinausfließen kann von Herz zu Herz, was die Menschen zusammenführt und erkennen lehrt, daß die Taten, die wir nur für uns selber tun, uns ertöten, uns veröden, daß aber die Taten, die fördernd aufgehen im Leben des andern, ein Spiegelbild sind, das auf unsere eigene Kraft zurückgeht. So wird durch den richtig verstandenen Egoismus unser Ich reich und entwickelungsfähig, wenn wir so viel als möglich unser eigenes Selbst ausleben an dem Selbst des andern, wenn wir nicht nur Eigengefühle, sondern so viel als möglich Mitgefühle entwickeln. So betrachtet die Geisteswissenschaft das Wesen des Egoismus.
Alle diejenigen, welche in ernster, würdiger Weise über das Dasein nachgedacht haben, hat vor allen Dingen das Wesen dessen, was wir heute berührt haben, im tiefsten Sinne interessiert. Das Wesen des Egoismus mußte die höchststehenden Menschen gerade in der Zeit interessieren, als sich der Mensch losgerissen hatte aus gewissen Beziehungen zu seiner Umgebung. Das 18. Jahrhundert ist ja dasjenige, wo des Menschen Individualität sich losrang aus der Umgebung. Einer derjenigen, die sich mit dem Problem des menschlichen Egoismus, des menschlichen Ich, befaßt haben, ist Goethe. Und die eigentliche Dichtung des Egoismus hat er uns gegeben wie ein Beispiel aus der Welt für das, was er über das Wesen des Egoismus gedacht hat. Diese Dichtung ist sein «Wilhelm Meister».
In ähnlicher Weise, wie ihn der «Faust» durch das Leben begleitet hat, so hat auch die Dichtung von «Wilhelm Meisters Lehrjahren» und die Fortsetzung als «Wilhelm Meisters Wanderjahre» Goethe durch das Leben begleitet. Bereits in den siebziger Jahren des 18. Jahrhunderts hat Goethe die Aufgabe in sich gefühlt, das eigenartige Leben des Wilhelm Meister als eine Art Abbild seines Lebens zu gestalten; und im höchsten Alter, als er bereits am Vorabend seines Todes stand, hat er diese zweite Dichtung in den «Wanderjahren» vollendet. Nun würde es zwar zu weit führen, auf die Einzelheiten des Wilhelm Meister einzugehen. Dennoch darf ich Sie vielleicht noch ein wenig auf das Problem des Egoismus skizzenhaft aufmerksam machen, wie es uns bei Goethe entgegentritt.
Man könnte sagen: So recht einen raffinierten Egoisten schildert Goethe in seinem Wilhelm Meister. Herausgeboren ist Wilhelm Meister aus dem Kaufmannsstande. Aber er ist egoistisch genug, um nicht, was ihm doch als Pflicht bedeutet wird, in diesem Beruf zu bleiben. Was will er denn eigentlich? Es zeigt sich gerade, daß er das eigene Selbst so hoch als möglich entwickeln will, so frei als möglich aus sich herausgestalten will. Eine Art vollkommener Mensch zu werden, das lebt in ihm als dunkle Ahnung. Nun führt Goethe diesen Wilhelm Meister durch die verschiedensten Lebensschicksale, um zu zeigen, wie das Leben wirkt an dieser Individualität, um sie höher zu bringen. Zwar weiß Goethe ganz genau, daß Wilhelm Meister herumgetrieben wird durch allerlei Lebensverhältnisse und doch nicht an ein ganz bestimmtes Ziel kommt. Daher nennt er ihn an einer Stelle einen «armen Hund»; aber zugleich sagt er, daß er doch wisse, daß ein Mensch, wenn er auch durch Dummheit und Verirrung sich hindurcharbeiten muß, doch durch gewisse Kräfte, die nun einmal in der Welt sind, an ein gewisses Ziel oder wenigstens einen gewissen Weg geführt wird. Es ist Goethes niemals aus seiner Seele entschwundene Meinung, daß das Menschenleben nie völlig dem Zufalle unterliegt, sondern ebenso wie alle Dinge unter Gesetzen steht, und zwar unter geistigen Gesetzen. Deshalb sagt Goethe: Das ganze menschliche Geschlecht sei als ein großes, aufstrebendes Individuum zu betrachten, das sich über das Zufällige zum Herrn mache.
So will Goethe zeigen, wie Wilhelm Meister immer darauf aus ist, sein Ego zu erhöhen, zu bereichern und zu vervollkommnen. Aber zu gleicher Zeit führt Goethe seinen Wilhelm Meister in Lebensverhältnisse, denen im Grunde genommen der Unterboden des tatsächlichen Lebens mangelt. Nun könnten wir zwar aus der Natur des 18. Jahrhunderts uns begreiflich machen, warum er ihn dem realen Leben entrückt. Er führt ihn nämlich in die Sphäre des Schauspielertums hinein. Er soll also nicht den einen realen Lebensberuf gehen, sondern durch Kreise, die den Schein des Lebens, das Bild des Lebens entfalten. Die Kunst selber ist ja in gewisser Beziehung ein Bild des Lebens. Sie steht nicht in der unmittelbaren Wirklichkeit drinnen; sie erhebt sich über die unmittelbare Wirklichkeit. Goethe war sich wohl bewußt, daß derjenige, der als Künstler mit seiner Kunst allein steht, in die Gefahr kommt, den festen Boden der Wirklichkeit zu verlieren. Es ist ein schönes Wort, daß die Muse zwar begleiten, aber nicht leiten kann durch das Leben. Zunächst überläßt sich Wilhelm Meister durchaus der Leitung der Kräfte, die in der Kunst liegen, und zwar in einer besonders auf den schönen Schein gehenden Kunst, der Schauspielkunst.
Wenn wir ein wenig dieses Leben des Wilhelm Meister an uns vorüberziehen lassen, dann sehen wir, wie in der Tat er hin- und hergerissen wird durch Unbefriedigung und Freude. Zwei Episoden sind vor allem wichug für das Verständnis des ersten Teils des «Wilhelm Meister», der «Lehrjahre». Herumgerissen zwischen Unbefriedigung und Lebensfreude wird Wilhelm Meister in seiner Schauspieler-Umgebung. Er gelangt endlich so weit, daß er zu einer Art Mustervorstellung des «Hamlet» kommt und gerade dadurch eine gewisse Befriedigung innerhalb desjenigen Elementes erlebt, in das er hineingetrieben ist. Dadurch erhöht er sein Ich. Die zwei Episoden, die in die Lehrjahre eingestreut sind, zeigen uns aber so recht, was Goethe im Hintergrunde hat: nämlich das Wesen des Egoismus.
Da ist zunächst die Episode mit der kleinen Mignon, die Wilhelm Meister bei einer etwas zweifelhaften Gesellschaft findet, und die ihn wie eine wunderbare Figur ein Stück begleitet. Es ist sehr merkwürdig, was Goethe einmal im späteren Alter zu dem Kanzler von Müller in einer bedeutungsvollen Weise über Mignon äußerte. Er knüpfte an ein Wort an, das Frau von Sta@l gebrauchte: daß alles, was über Mignon gesagt ist, eigentlich eine Episode ist, die gar nicht in die Dichtung hineingehöre. Goethe meinte: es wäre in der Tat eine Episode, und wer nur an dem äußeren Fortgang der Erzählung Interesse habe, der könne schon sagen, diese Episode könnte ja auch fortbleiben. Aber es wäre ganz unrecht, meinte Goethe, zu glauben, daß die Geschichte der Mignon nur eine Episode sei; sondern der ganze Wilhelm Meister sei eigentlich wegen dieser merkwürdigen Gestalt gedichtet. Nun drückte sich ja Goethe im unmittelbaren Gespräch so aus, daß er gewisse Dinge radikal darstellte, die nicht so wörtlich zu nehmen sind. Aber wenn wir tiefer hineingehen, können wir auch sehen, warum er dieses Wort zu dem Kanzler von Müller sagte. In dieser Gestalt der oder des Mignon - diese kleine Figur sollte eigentlich gar keinen Eigennamen haben, denn sie sollte bedeuten «der Liebling» - stellt Goethe dar ein Menschenwesen, das gerade so lange lebt, bis sich in ihm der Keim eines solchen Egoismus ausbilden könnte, der überhaupt als Egoismus in Frage kommt. Sehr merkwürdig ist die ganze Psychologie dieser Mignon. Da entwickelt sich dieses Mädchen, entwickelt eigentlich in einer naiven Weise alles, was man nennen könnte: Aufgehen im äußeren Leben. Niemals bemerkt man an dieser Wesenheit irgendeine Eigenschaft, welche uns zeigen könnte, daß es selbst diejenigen Dinge, die andere Menschen nur aus der Selbstsucht heraus tun, auch aus der Selbstsucht tun würde; sondern es tut sie aus der Selbstverständlichkeit seiner Natur heraus. Man möchte sagen, dieses kleine Wesen wäre kein Mensch, wenn es nicht alles das tun würde; es ist noch so naiv, es ist noch ganz so Mensch, daß sich der Egoismus noch nicht geregt hat. In dem Augenblicke, da in Wilhelm Meister eine Lebensepisode beginnt, die das Band zerreißt, das ihn mit Mignon verbindet, da welkt sie dahin und stirbt wie die Pflanze, die auch stirbt, wenn sie einen gewissen Punkt des Daseins erreicht hat. Sie ist ein Wesen, das noch gar nicht Mensch ist, noch gar nicht «Ich«» ist, welches das kindlich Naive, die allgemeine Menschlichkeit im Zusammenhang mit der ganzen Umwelt zum Ausdruck bringt. Und sie stirbt wie die Pflanze. Man könnte sagen, anwendbar ist auf Mignon wirklich der Spruch:
Die Ros’ ist ohn Warum, sie blühet, weil sie blühet,
Sie acht’t nicht ihrer selbst, fragt nicht, ob man sie siehet.
Da könnte man wirklich sagen: Zwei Dinge, von zwei verschiedenen Menschen gemacht, sind zwei ganz verschiedene Dinge, wenn sie auch dasselbe darstellen! Was andere aus Egoismus tun, das tut sie aus der Selbstverständlichkeit ihrer Natur heraus; und in dem Augenblick, wo in Frage kommen könnte, daß so etwas wie eine egoistische Regung in ihrer Seele erwacht, da stirbt sie. Das ist das Zauberhafte an diesem Wesen, daß wir einen Menschen ohne Ichheit vor uns haben, und daß sie unsern Händen entfällt, als sich der Egoismus regen könnte. Und da Goethe vor allem an dem Wilhelm Meister das Problem des Egoismus interessierte, so finden wir es begreiflich, daß ihm damals die Worte kamen: Was ihr in Wilhelm Meister suchen sollt, das findet ihr eigentlich an dem Gegenbilde, an Mignon. Was in dem kleinen Geschöpf sich zeigt, gleich in dem Augenblicke ersterbend, als es da sein will, das ist es gerade, was dem Wilhelm Meister so große Schwierigkeiten macht, um sein Ich zu entwickeln, und deswegen er durch die ganze Erziehung der Lebensschule durchgeführt werden soll.
Dann ist eingeflochten in den «Wilhelm Meister» scheinbar ohne Zusammenhang - jener Teil, der betitelt ist die «Bekenntnisse einer schönen Seele». Man weiß ja, daß diese «Bekenntnisse» fast wörtlich entnommen sind den Aufzeichnungen der Freundin Goethes, Susanne von Klettenberg. Was aus dem Herzen dieser Dame floß, das haben wir in den «Bekenntnissen einer schönen Seele» zu suchen, die wir in «Wilhelm Meister» finden. Da zeigt sich gerade in diesen Bekenntnissen — man könnte sagen —- an einem höchsten Punkt das Wesen des Egoismus. Und wie? Diese schöne Seele, Susanne von Klettenberg, ist ja zu hohen Stufen des menschlichen Lebens hinaufgestiegen. Aber sie zeigt gerade in diesen Bekenntnissen, wenn wir in jene hohen Regionen den Menschen hinauf verfolgen, die Gefahren des Egoismus, die Kehrseite der Bereicherung, der Inhaltserfüllung des Ich. Denn ihre eigene Entwickelung gibt uns Susanne von Klettenberg in den «Bekenntnissen einer schönen Seele». Da zeigt sie erst, wie sie Freude hat an der Umgebung wie andere Menschen, wie aber dann eines Tages etwas in ihrer Seele erwacht, das ihr sagt: In dir lebt etwas, was dich dem Gotte in dir näher bringt! Das erste, was sie da erlebt, das ist, daß diese inneren Erlebnisse sie der äußeren Welt entfremden. Sie hat kein Interesse an der Umgebung. Sie findet überall Freude und Seligkeit und namentlich ein inneres Glück in dem Verkehr, den sie hat mit dem, was sie innerlich ihren «Gott» nennt und erlebt. Sie zieht sich ganz in ihr Innenleben zurück. Im Grunde genommen fühlt diese schöne Seele, daß das eigentlich nichts anderes ist als ein raffinierter Egoismus. Dieses Aufdämmern eines Geistigen im Innern, das den Menschen der Umwelt entfremdet, das ihn kalt und herzlos macht gegen die Umwelt, ihn herausschält aus der Umwelt, das mag ihm zunächst eine Befriedigung, ein gewisses Glück gewähren. Auf die Dauer gibt es ihm kein Glück. Denn dadurch, daß es ihn der Umwelt entfremdet, verödet es ihn in sich selber. Aber diese schöne Seele ist zugleich eine energisch in sich strebende Seele, und so kommt sie von Stufe zu Stufe. Sie kann sich nicht völlig loslösen von dem, was von außen kommen und die Harmonie herstellen kann. So sucht sie immer die geheimnisvollen Untergründe in den Symbolen der verschiedenen Religionen, um dasjenige gespiegelt zu sehen, was in ihrem Ego als ihr Göttliches aufgestiegen ist. Aber das ist ihr im Grunde genommen nicht genügend, was sie da in den äußeren Formen erleben kann. Sie will weiter. Und da wird sie zu einer merkwürdigen Stufe ihres Lebens geführt. Da sagt sie sich eines Tages: Alles, was als Menschheit auf unserer Erde ist, das ist dem Gotte nicht zu gering gewesen, als daß er herabgestiegen wäre und sich selber in einem Menschen verkörpert hätte. Und da fühlt sie die Außenwelt in diesem Momente nicht etwa erniedrigt deswegen, weil sie nicht das Geistige selber, sondern nur der Ausdruck des Geistigen ist, oder weil sie etwa gar einen Abfall des Geistigen darstellt, sondern in diesem Augenblicke fühlt sie, daß diese Außenwelt wirklich geistdurchdrungen ist, und daß der Mensch kein Recht hat, sich loszulösen von dem, was ihn umgibt. Da tauchte ein anderes Erlebnis auf, das ihr sagte: Wahr ist es, was im Beginne unserer Zeitrechnung in Palästina sich zugetragen haben soll. Sie nimmt teil daran, sie erlebt selber in sich den ganzen Lebensgang des Christus Jesus bis zur Kreuzigung und zum Sterben. Sie erlebt in der Menschheit das Göttliche, und sie erlebt es so, wie sie klar schildert, daß alles äußere Bildhafte, alles, was physisch-sinnlich in Bildern auftauchen könnte, zurücktritt; daß es ein rein geistig-seelisches Erlebnis, ein unsichtbar Sichtbares, ein unhörbar Hörbares wird. Sie fühlt sich jetzt vereinigt nicht mit einem abstrakten Göttlichen, sondern mit einer Göttlichkeit, die der Erdenwelt selber angehört. Wieder aber hat sie sich in einer gewissen Weise entfernt und findet nicht den Weg zu den gewöhnlichen Lebensverhältnissen. Da tritt etwas an sie heran, wodurch sie imstande wird, in jedem einzelnen Naturobjekt, in jedem Einzeldasein, in all den Verhältnissen, die uns täglich umgeben, etwas zu erblicken, was Ausprägung des Geistigen ist. Das betrachtet sie als eine Art höchste Stufe. - Und es ist charakteristisch für Goethe, daß er selbst eine Art Bekenntnis gefunden hat, wo er die «Bekenntnisse einer schönen Seele» mitteilen konnte.
Was wollte er daran als einen wichtigen Erziehungspunkt für Meister zeigen? Wilhelm Meister sollte dieses Manuskript lesen und dadurch um eine Stufe höher geführt werden. Es sollte ihm gezeigt werden, daß der Mensch in sich selber ein lebendiges, reges Seelenleben gar nicht hoch genug entwickeln kann; daß er gar nicht hoch und weit genug gehen kann in dem, was man Umgang mit der geistigen Welt nennen kann; daß aber ein Sich-Abschließen von der Außenwelt nicht zu einer Befriedigung seines Daseins führen kann, und daß der Mensch erst dann die große Welt um uns herum versteht, wenn er sein reich gewordenes Inneres über die Umwelt ausgießt.
So will Goethe zeigen: Man kann die Umwelt zunächst anschauen so, wie sie ist. Da wird man das gewöhnliche Triviale sehen und wird haften an dem Alltäglichen. Da wird man vielleicht sagen: Das ist das gewöhnliche Alltägliche, das Geistige findet man nur in seinem Innern! Und man kann es in seinem Innern auf einer höchsten Stufe finden. Aber wenn man es dort gefunden hat, ist man um so mehr um seines eigenen Selbstes willen verpflichtet, wieder in die Außenwelt zu gehen. Dann findet man das, was man früher gewöhnlich gefunden hat, in seiner Geistigkeit. Dieselbe Welt kann vorliegen einmal dem Trivialling, und einmal demjenigen, der in seinem Innern den Geist gefunden hat. Der eine findet die gewöhnliche triviale Welt des heutigen Monismus, der andere findet in dieser selben Welt, weil er zuerst die eigenen geistigen Fähigkeiten bereichert und die Organe in sich entwickelt hat, das Geistige hinter allem Sinnlichen. So ist für Goethe diese Innenentwickelung ein Umweg, um Welterkenntnis zu gewinnen. Das stellt vor allem jene Seele dar, die Goethe in dem Wilhelm Meister charakterisiert. Wilhelm Meister wird gerade dadurch vorwärts gebracht, daß geheimere Vorgänge des Lebens auf ihn einwirken. Weniger sind es die äußeren Erlebnisse, als gerade das Sich-lebendigHineinversetzen in die Erlebnisse und in den Entwickelungsgang einer solchen anderen Seele.
Man hat an Goethes Wilhelm Meister getadelt, daß hinter ihm steht, nachdem die «Lehrjahre» des Wilhelm Meister zu Ende gehen, so etwas wie eine geheime Gesellschaft, die für ihn selber unsichtbar den Menschen leitet. Man hat gesagt, das könnte den heutigen Menschen nicht mehr interessieren; so etwas gab es nur im 18. Jahrhundert. Aber für Goethe lag hinter allem etwas ganz anderes. Es sollte gezeigt werden, daß das Ego des Meister wirklich den Weg finden sollte durch die verschiedenen Labyrinthe des Lebens, und daß eine gewisse geistige Führung in der Menschheit vorhanden ist. Was uns in «Wilhelm Meister» als die «Gesellschaft des Turmes» entgegentritt, durch die Wilhelm Meister geleitet wird, das sollte nur eine Einkleidung sein der geistigen Mächte und Kräfte, welche den Menschen führen, wenn auch sein eigener Lebensweg durch «Dummheit und Verwirrung gehen möge»; so wird Meister weiter geführt durch unsichtbare Mächte. In unserer Zeit wird ja über solche Dinge recht von oben herunter abgesprochen. Aber in unserer Zeit haben ja auch die Philister das einzige Recht gepachtet, über solche Persönlichkeiten, wie Goethe zum Beispiel, ein abschließendes Urteil zu fällen. Wer die Welt kennt, der wird zwar zugeben: Niemand kann in einem Menschen mehr finden, als er selber in sich hat. Und so könnte das jeder gegenüber Goethe behaupten. Aber just der Philister behauptet das nicht; sondern er findet alles, was in Goethe ist. Und wehe dem, der etwas anderes behauptet. Denn er hat die ganze Weisheit in sich und kann die ganze Weisheit überschauen! Selbstverständlich wird dadurch Goethe zum Philister. Das ist nicht Goethes Schuld.
So wird Wilhelm Meister weitergeführt in dem zweiten Teil, in den «Wanderjahren». Nun haben sich Philister und Nichtphilister über das Kompositionslose und Unkünstlerische der «Wanderjahre» aufgeregt. Ja, es ist etwas Arges, was uns Goethe da aufgetischt hat. Da hat er auf der Höhe seines Lebens aus seinen eigenen Lebenserfahrungen heraus darstellen wollen, wie ein Mensch durch die verschiedensten Labyrinthe des Lebens durchgehen kann. Er hat in gewisser Weise ein Spiegelbild von sich selber darstellen wollen. Und er sagt auch, wie das zustandegekommen ist. Zunächst hatte er sich mit dem ersten Teil der «Wanderjahre» recht viel Mühe gegeben. Wir wollen nichts beschönigen. Dann fing man aber an mit dem Druck, bevor eben das weitere fertig war. Und nun stellte sich heraus, daß der Drucker schneller setzen als Goethe schreiben konnte. Goethe führte nun skizzenhaft die Handlung fort. Er hatte in früheren Jahren verschiedenes geschrieben an Märchen und Novellen, so zum Beispiel die Geschichte von der «Heiligen Familie», die Geschichte von dem «nußbraunen Mädchen», auch das «Märchen von der neuen Melusine» und anderes. Das alles ist in den «Wanderjahren» enthalten, obwohl es ursprünglich nicht dafür bestimmt war. Da verfuhr Goethe so, daß er an verschiedenen Stellen solche Geschichten hineinlegte und schnell Übergänge machte. Das ist recht kompositionslos. Aber die Geschichte ging trotzdem nicht schnell genug. Da hatte Goethe noch manche Arbeiten von früher. Die gab er seinem Sekretär Eckermann und sagte ihm: Schieben Sie davon hinein, was hineinzuschieben geht! So machte Eckermann zurecht, was noch da war, und die einzelnen Teile sind dann auch oft recht lose zusammengelötet. Da kann man sagen: Das ist ein ganz kompositionsloses Werk! Und wer es vom künstlerischen Standpunkt aus beurteilen will, der mag es tun. Aber schließlich hat Eckermann keine Zeile dazu geschrieben. Das sind alles Goethes Arbeiten, und zwar solche Arbeiten, in denen er immer zum Ausdruck brachte, was in seiner Seele gelebt hatte. Und immer stand vor ihm die Gestalt des Wilhelm Meister. So konnte er die Ereignisse des Lebens, welche auf seine Seele gewirkt hatten, da hineinnehmen. So hatten sie auf ihn selber gewirkt. Und da der «Wilhelm Meister» ein Spiegelbild von ihm selber ist, so stellen sich diese Dinge im Grunde genommen ebenso fortschlängelnd in den Verlauf der Dichtung hinein, wie sie sich für Goethe selber fortschlängelnd dargestellt haben. Und wir bekommen durchaus kein unzutreffendes Bild dadurch. Man hat gesagt: Da ist keine Spannung drinnen, da wird immerfort durch weise Ausführungen die Handlung unterbrochen! Man hat den Roman nicht gelesen und kritisiert ihn in Grund und Boden. Die Betreffenden hatten von ihrem Standpunkt aus natürlich recht. Aber es gibt einen andern Standpunkt. Man kann nämlich Ungeheures lernen gerade an diesen «Wanderjahren», wenn man das Interesse und den Willen hat, um sich hinaufzuranken an den Erlebnissen, von denen Goethe selber gelernt hat. Und das ist auch erwas. Muß denn immer alles eine gute Komposition haben, wenn etwas da ist, was uns in anderer Weise dienen kann? Ist denn das so schlimm? Vielleicht für solche ist es sehr schlimm, daß soviel Weisheit in «Wilhelm Meister» ist, welche schon alles wissen und welche nichts mehr zu lernen brauchen.
Gerade im zweiten Teil findet sich in wunderbarer Weise ausgedrückt, wie sich das Ich immer mehr und mehr erhöhen und zum Gipfel des Daseins werden kann. Da wird uns insbesondere schön gezeigt, wie Wilhelm Meister seinen Sohn nach einer ganz merkwürdigen Erziehungsanstalt bringt. Wiederum haben Philister ein ganz absprechendes Urteil über diese Erziehungsanstalt gefällt. Sie haben gar nicht daran gedacht, daß Goethe diese Anstalt nicht da oder dort in Wirklichkeit umsetzen wollte, sondern daß er, wie symbolisch, eine Art Anschauung über das Erziehungswesen in seiner «pädagogischen Provinz» geben wollte. Da fällt denen, die dieser Anstalt nähertreten, gleich auf, wie in gewissen Gebärden sich auslebt, was in des Menschen Seele ist. Da ist eine Gebärde, wo die Hände auf der Brust zusammengeschlagen werden und die Zöglinge nach oben blicken. Sodann sieht man eine Gebärde, wo die Hände auf dem Rücken zusammengenommen werden, wenn der Mensch neben den Menschen sich stellt. Aber etwas ganz Besonderes gibt es, wo das Seelische durch die Gebärde des sich zur Erde Neigens zum Ausdruck kommt. Auf die Frage, was das alles für eine Bedeutung habe, wird erklärt, daß die Knaben in der Seele, in ihrem Ich erwachen lassen sollen, was man die «drei Ehrfurchten» nennt, und wodurch der Mensch seine Seele immer höher und höher hinaufentwickeln kann. Sie werden als das wichtigste Erziehungsprinzip vor den Menschen hingestellt. Zuerst soll der Mensch in Ehrfurcht aufschauen lernen zu dem, was über ihm ist; dann soll er Ehrfurcht lernen vor dem, was unter ihm ist, damit er in entsprechender Weise weiß, wie er aus dem, was unter ihm ist, wiederum herausgewachsen ist; dann soll er lernen Ehrfurcht haben vor dem, was neben ihm ist, was gleichwertig ist als Mensch neben Mensch; denn dadurch erst kann der Mensch die rechte Ehrfurcht vor dem eigenen Ich haben. Dadurch kommt er in die richtige Harmonie zur Umwelt, wenn er die richtige Ehrfurcht hat gegen das, was über ihm ist, gegen das, was unter ihm ist und gegen das, was neben ihm ist. Dadurch wird auch sein Ego in der richtigen Weise entwickelt, und der Egoismus kann nicht irregehen.
Dann wird gezeigt, wie die wichtigsten Religionen der Menschheit hineinwirken sollen in die menschliche Seele. Die Volks- oder ethnischen Religionen sollen sich hineinleben als solche Götter oder Geister, die über dem Menschen stehen; dann soll sich einleben, was man nennen könnte die philosophischen Religionen, durch das, was sich als Ehrfurcht vor dem Gleichen in die Seele senkt; und dasjenige, was uns hinunterführt in das Dasein, was sonst leicht verachtet werden kann, was uns den Tod, den Schmerz und die Hindernisse in der Welt in der richtigen Weise mit Ehrfurcht betrachten läßt, das führt uns zum richtigen Verständnis der christlichen Religion. Denn das wird betont, daß die christliche Religion uns zeigt, wie der Gott hinuntersteigt in die sinnlichen Hüllen, wie er auf sich nimmt die ganze Misere des Lebens und durch alles Menschliche hindurchgeht. Die Ehrfurcht vor dem Unteren soll gerade ein richtiges Verständnis der christlichen Religion geben.
So wird uns die genaue Entwickelung des Menschen gezeigt. Und Goethe stellt uns dann dar, wie Wilhelm Meister hineingeführt wird in eine Art Tempel, wo in bedeutungsvollen Bildern die drei Religionen von frühester Jugend an den Knaben, die da erzogen werden sollen, vor die Seele treten, und wie alles in Einklang gebracht werden soll in dieser utopischen Erziehungsanstalt. Aber diese Anstalt drückt mehr eine Denkweisheit, eine Vorstellungsart aus, wie der Mensch aufwachsen soll von frühester Kindheit an, damit er auf der einen Seite den Zusammenklang findet mit der Umwelt und auf der anderen Seite wiederum auch die Möglichkeit, immer höher und höher sein Ich hinaufzuführen. Bis ins einzelnste wird das dargestellt. Es wird zum Beispiel gezeigt, wie sich die Knaben nicht unterscheiden durch Äußerlichkeiten; sie haben nicht gleiche Kleider, die sie nach den Altersstufen erhalten, sondern sie werden hingeführt zu Kleidern der verschiedensten Art, wo sie selber auswählen sollen. So wird dadurch die Eigenart der Kinder entwickelt. Ja, weil immer eine Art von Korpsgeist sich geltend macht, und das Individuelle zurücktritt gegenüber dem Nachmachen eines Mächtigeren, so daß einzelne Knaben die Uniformen eines anderen wählen, so wird sogar der Grundsatz verfolgt, daß nach einiger Zeit solche Kleider dann fortgetan und durch andere allmählich ersetzt werden. Kurz, Goethe will darstellen, wie der heranwachsende Mensch erzogen werden soll — bis auf die Gebärden hin - in all dem, was ihn auf der einen Seite führen kann zu Harmonie mit der Umwelt, und was auf der andern Seite wieder die individuelle innere Freiheit entwickelt - bis auf den Anzug hin.
Man nennt das vielleicht eine Phantasterei; man sucht auch zu behaupten, daß so etwas niemals in dieser Gestalt bestanden hat. Aber Goethe selbst wollte ja davon nur sagen, daß es irgendwie und irgendwann verwirklicht werden kann, daß diese Gedanken einfließen sollen ins Überall und Immer und sich einleben, wo sie sich einleben können. Diejenigen, welche das nicht für möglich halten, könnte man aufmerksam machen auf Fichte, der vor seinen Studenten ein hohes Ideal entwikkelte; aber er war sich bewußt und sagte besonders für diejenigen, die von Wirklichkeit nicht viel wissen, aber sich doch Wirklichkeitsgeister nennen: Daß die Ideale im gewöhnlichen Leben sich nicht unmittelbar verwirklichen lassen, das wissen wir andern auch, vielleicht sogar noch besser; aber wir wissen auch, daß Ideale dafür da sein müssen, um dem Leben ein Regulativ zu sein, und um sich in Leben umzusetzen! — Das ist etwas, was immer wieder betont werden muß. Und diejenigen, welche keine Ideale haben wollen, von denen sagt Fichte, sie zeigen dadurch nur, daß in der Rechnung der Vorsehung auf sie eben nicht gezählt worden sei. Und er setzt hinzu, es möge ihnen ein guter Gott zur rechten Zeit Regen und Sonnenschein, eine gute Verdauung und womöglich auch gute Gedanken verleihen! Dieses selbstverständliche Wort könnte man auch gegenüber denjenigen anwenden, welche von der Erziehungsanstalt in Goethes «Wilhelm Meister» behaupten, daß sie sich nicht verwirklichen lasse. Sie läßt sich verwirklichen im Größten und im Kleinsten, wenn Menschen dazu vorhanden sind, die solche Grundsätze auch unter unsern alltäglichen Verhältnissen in das Leben einzuführen versuchen.
Und eine zweite Episode im «Wilhelm Meister» ist diejenige, wo uns eine Persönlichkeit vorgeführt wird, die im höchsten Maße zeigt das Aufgehen des Ich in dem großen Selbst der Welt. Diese Persönlichkeit wird uns in der merkwürdigen Gestalt der Makarie geschildert. Da zeigt Goethe eine Persönlichkeit, die innerlich erwacht ist, die den Geist in sich selber so weit entwickelt hat, daß sie in dem lebt, was die Welt als Geist durchzieht. Goethe stellt sie so dar, daß sie durch ein inneres Wissen, das in ihr lebt nach der Auferweckung ihrer Seele, durch die Entfesselung ihrer inneren Kräfte dasjenige von innen heraus weiß, was ein geschickter, auf der Höhe seiner Zeit stehender Astronom über die Bahnen der Sterne berechnet. Was höchste geisteswissenschaftliche Untersuchungen sind, das stellt Goethe dar an der Stelle, wo er zum Ausdruck bringt, wie sich die Seele gerade durch Geisteswissenschaft einleben kann in das ganze Universum, wie Selbsterkenntnis Welterkenntnis und Welterkenntnis Selbsterkenntnis werden kann.
So stellt er gleichsam um seinen Wilhelm Meister herum lauter Bilder, die uns zeigen, wie das menschliche Selbst sich entwickeln muß. Im rechten Sinne ist Goethes Wilhelm Meister von Anfang bis zu Ende ein Beispiel für die Entwickelung des Menschen in der Weise, daß das Wesen des Egoismus in bezug auf diese Entwickelung ins Auge gefaßt wird.
Wenn wir bei einem Dichter einen Ausdruck eines so bedeutsamen Problemes der Geisteswissenschaft sehen, so ist das für uns ein neuer Beweis dafür — was sich uns schon zeigte bei Betrachtungen über den «Faust», über das «Märchen von der grünen Schlange und der schönen Lilie» und über die «Pandora» -, daß wir in Goethe einen Genius vor uns haben, der eins ist mit dem, was wir als Geisteswissenschaft im echten, wahren Sinne bezeichnen. Goethe selber spricht so, wenn er sagt: Das Wesen des Egoismus zu erfassen ist nur möglich, wenn man den Menschen seiner ganzen Wesenheit nach betrachtet, wenn man weiß, wie das Weltall den Menschen aus dem Geiste heraus dahin führen mußte, daß er in die Versuchungen des Egoismus fällt. Hätte der Mensch nicht in den Egoismus fallen können, so könnte er auch nicht wie eine Blüte alles dessen dastehen, was draußen ausgebreitet ist. Verfällt er aber dieser Versuchung, so verfällt er dem, was ihn selber ertötet. So ist die Weisheit in der ganzen Welt die, daß alles, was in der Welt gut ist, sich überschlagen kann, um in dem Menschen als Freiheit erscheinen zu können; daß aber in dem Augenblick, wo der Mensch seine Freiheit mißbraucht, wo er sich im Menschen überschlägt, eine Selbstkorrektur eintritt.
Das ist wieder ein solches Kapitel, das uns zeigt, wie alles Üble, alles Schlimme in der Menschennatur, wenn wir es von einem höheren Gesichtspunkt aus betrachten, sich umwandeln kann in das Gute, in das, was dem Menschen ein Unterpfand ist für seinen ewigen, stetig steigenden Fortschritt. So werden uns alle Lehren der Geisteswissenschaft, wenn wir uns nicht scheuen, bis in die Tiefen des Schmerzes, des Übels hinunterzusteigen, etwas, was zu den höchsten Höhen des Geistes und aller Menschlichkeit führt, und was uns eine Bestätigung dessen ist, was aus der alten griechischen Weisheit und Dichtung zu uns herübertönt als das schöne Wort, mit dem wir unsere heutige Betrachtung abschließen wollen:
Der Mensch ist eines Schattens Traum,
doch wenn der Sonne Strahl hereinscheint
zu ihm, gottgesandt, so wird hell der Tag
und reizdurchtränkt alles Leben!
The Essence of Selfishness
Goethe's “Wilhelm Meister”
Somewhere, sometime, a society was founded. Its program stated: “The abolition of selfishness”; that is, it wanted to oblige its members to educate themselves to be selfless, free from all selfishness. Like all societies, it had elected its president, and now it was a matter of propagating the main principle of this society throughout the world. This society repeatedly emphasized in many different ways that none of its members should have even the slightest selfish desire for themselves anywhere, especially within the society, or even voice anything resembling a selfish desire or the like.
Now, this was certainly a society with an extremely commendable program and a lofty human goal. But at the same time, it could not be said that the members sought within themselves to realize precisely what was the very first point of the program. They hardly learned anything about human unselfish desires. The following often took place within the society. One said, “Yes, I would like this and that. The society could grant me that. But if I go to the chairman, I am presenting a selfish desire. That is completely against the society's program, it is not possible!” Then another said, "It's quite simple: I will go for you. I will represent your desire and present something that is completely selfless. But look! I would also like to have something. Of course, that is also something completely selfish. According to our main program, you can't bring that up in our society!“ Then the first one said, ”If you are so selfless for me, I will also do something for you. I will go to the chairman for you and ask for what you want!" And so it happened. First, one went to the chairman; then, two hours later, the other went. Both had made completely unselfish requests. But this did not happen just once; it was actually common practice in this society. And it was rare for something selfish, some selfish request from a member, to be fulfilled, because it was always presented in the most selfless way by the other.
I said that “somewhere and sometime” there was such a society. Of course, what I have just described is a purely hypothetical society. But anyone who takes a little look around in life may say: a little of this society is everywhere and always. What has just been said should only be put forward to show how the word “egoism” is one of those words that can become slogans in the most eminent sense when they do not appear in the world directly in relation to what they describe, but when they appear in a mask, in a guise, and in a certain way can thereby deceive themselves.
Today we will be looking at the buzzword “egoism” and its opposite, which has long been in common use, ‘altruism’ or “selflessness.” But we will not be looking at them as buzzwords; rather, we will try to penetrate a little into the essence of egoism. When such things are considered from the standpoint of spiritual science, it is less and less a question of what sympathy or antipathy this or that characteristic may evoke. How can it be evaluated according to this or that pre-existing human judgment? Rather, it is a matter of showing how that to which the word in question refers arises in the human soul or elsewhere in reality, and within what limits it applies; and if it is to be combated as this or that characteristic, to what extent it can then be combated by human nature or the other entities of existence.
According to his words, egoism would be the human characteristic whereby man has interests in mind that are conducive to the elevation of his own personality, while the opposite, altruism, would be the human characteristic that aims to place human abilities at the service of others, of the whole outside world. A very simple consideration shows how dangerous it is to stick to words without going into the matter itself. Let us assume that someone proves to be a special benefactor in one way or another. It could well be that he is a benefactor only out of selfishness, perhaps out of very petty selfish qualities, perhaps out of vanity or the like. Calling someone an “egoist” without further ado does not completely dismiss their character. For if a person only wants to satisfy themselves, but has noble qualities, so that they see themselves best served by serving the interests of others, then perhaps one can tolerate such an “egoist.” This may seem like a play on words, but it is not, because this play on words permeates our entire life and existence and is expressed everywhere, in all areas of existence.
For all things that are found in human beings, we can find at least something analogous, something that can serve as a parable, in the rest of the universe. Schiller's saying may suggest to us that we can find something in the universe that serves as a parable for this outstanding characteristic of human nature:
If you seek the highest, the greatest, the plant can teach you:
What it is without will, be it with will! — that is all!
In this, Schiller presents the existence of plants to humans and recommends that they develop something in their character that is as noble as the plant on a certain lower level. And the great German mystic Angelus Silesius expresses roughly the same thing:
The rose is without reason, it blooms because it blooms,
It does not care about itself, does not ask whether anyone sees it.
Here, too, we are referred to the existence of plants. The plant absorbs what it needs for growth; it does not ask “why” or “because”; it blooms because it blooms, and does not care whom it serves. And yet, because it absorbs its life forces, because it draws from its environment everything it needs for itself at that moment, it becomes for its environment – and ultimately also for humans – what it can be. It becomes the most useful creature imaginable when it belongs to those areas of the plant world that can serve the life of higher beings. And although it has been said many times before, it is by no means trivial to say it again:
When the rose adorns itself,
it also adorns the garden.
The garden is adorned by the rose when it is as beautiful as possible. We can connect this with the word selfishness and say: When the rose wants to be selfishly beautiful, wants to make itself as magnificent as possible, it makes the garden as beautiful as possible. Can we extend what is expressed in this way in a lower realm of nature to human beings in a certain way? We don't need to do so; many others have done it before us, and Goethe did it most beautifully. When Goethe wanted to express what a human being is in the truest sense of the word, through which he most shows the dignity and the whole content of his existence, he uttered the words: “When the healthy nature of man acts as a whole, when he feels himself in the world as in a great, beautiful, dignified, and valuable whole, when harmonious comfort grants him pure, free delight: then the universe, if it could feel itself, would rejoice at having reached its goal and admire the summit of its own becoming and being.” And on another occasion, Goethe said in his wonderful book on “Winckelmann,” which also contains the words just quoted: "Placed at the summit of nature, man sees himself again as a whole nature, which must once more produce a summit within itself. To this end, he elevates himself by imbuing himself with all perfections and virtues, invoking choice, order, harmony, and meaning, and finally rising to the production of the work of art."
However, Goethe's entire mindset shows us that he is only specializing in the artist, and how he specifically means: When man is placed at the summit of nature, he takes everything that the world can express in him and ultimately shows the world its reflection from within himself; and nature would rejoice if it could perceive and feel this reflection of itself in the soul of man! What does this mean other than: Everything that surrounds us in the world, everything that is nature outside, everything that is spirit outside, is concentrated in man, rises to a summit and becomes as beautiful, as true, as perfect as possible in the individual human being, in this human individuality, in this human ego. Therefore, human beings will fulfill their existence best if they draw as much as possible from their environment and shape their ego as richly as possible. Then they will acquire everything that is in the world and that can blossom within themselves, indeed, bear the fruit of existence.
Such a view is based on the idea that human beings cannot do enough to truly summarize within themselves everything that is in the environment in order to represent a kind of blossoming and culmination of the rest of existence. If one wanted to call this “egoism,” one could do so. One could then say: the human ego is there to be an organ for what would otherwise remain eternally hidden in the rest of nature, and which can only be expressed by concentrating itself in the human spirit. So one might say that it is part of the essence of human beings to summarize within themselves the rest of existence that surrounds them. Now, however, it is in the nature and essence of man that he can turn what is the general law in the lower realms, leading to the highest and greatest, into aberration and error within himself. This is connected with what we call human freedom. Human beings could never have a free existence if they did not have within themselves the ability to misuse certain forces in a one-sided way, so that these forces lead to the highest existence on the one hand, but on the other hand pervert existence, perhaps even turning it into a caricature. This can be made clear to us by a simple comparison. Let us return once more to the plant.
When it comes to plants, it does not occur to us to speak of egoism in general. Only to make the law of egoism clear to us in the whole world have we said: What is expressed in plants could be called egoism. But we do not speak of egoism in relation to plants at all. If plant existence is viewed not in a materialistic sense but in a spiritual sense, then we can see that plants are in a certain way immune to egoism. On the one hand, their existence depends on making themselves as beautiful as possible. And they do not ask themselves: Who does this beauty serve? But when plants summarize their entire existence within themselves, when they ascend to the highest development of their own being, then the moment has already come for them when they must give up this own being. There is something peculiar about the meaning of plant existence. Goethe says it very beautifully in his prose sayings: “In flowers, the vegetative law reaches its highest manifestation, and the rose would only be the summit of this manifestation... The fruit can never be beautiful, for there the vegetative law recedes into itself (into mere law).” In other words, it is clear to him that when a plant blooms, it expresses its own law most clearly. But at the moment when it blooms, it must also be prepared to give up its most beautiful part in fertilization, for it is instructed to sacrifice this part of itself to its successor, the fruit germ. Therefore, there is truly something great in the fact that the plant must sacrifice itself at the moment when it would come to the expression of its ego. This means that we see in this lower kingdom that egoism in nature rises to a point where it destroys itself, where it gives itself up in order to bring forth something new. What is most highly developed in the plant, what we might call the individuality, the self of the plant, what bursts forth in full beauty with the blossom, begins to wither at the moment when the new plant germ is brought forth.
Now let us ask ourselves: Is something similar perhaps the case in the human realm? And indeed, if we consider nature and spiritual life in terms of spirit, we will find that something very similar is the case in the human realm. Human beings are not only called upon to produce beings of their own kind, that is, to live in the species, but also to lead the life of individuality within themselves, which transcends the species. We will only be able to truly recognize what egoism is in human beings when we present the essence of the human being before us as we have learned to do in the last lectures.
In the spiritual scientific sense, we do not regard human beings merely as physical bodies, which they share with the whole mineral world, but we speak of human beings as having within themselves, as a higher member of their being, first of all the etheric body or life body, which they share with all living beings; that they then share with the entire animal kingdom the bearer of pleasure and pain, joy and sorrow, which we call the astral body or the consciousness body; and we speak of the fact that within these three members of the human being lives their actual core essence, the I. We must also regard this I as the bearer of egoism in both the justified and unjustified sense. Now, the entire development of the human being consists in his transforming the three other members of his being from his I. At an imperfect stage of existence, the I is the slave of the three lower members, the physical body, the etheric body, and the astral body. If we now consider the astral body, we can say that at a lower stage of existence, human beings follow all their urges, desires, and passions. But the higher he develops, the more he purifies his astral body, that is, he transforms that of which he is a slave into something that is ruled by his higher nature, by his ego, so that the ego increasingly becomes the ruler and purifier of the other members of the human being. And it has also been mentioned in previous lectures that human beings today are in the midst of this development and are moving toward a future in which the ego will increasingly become the ruler of all three members of human nature. For by transforming the astral body, man creates in it what we call the “spirit self,” or, to use an expression from Eastern philosophy, “manas.” As man lives today, he has transformed part of his astral body into manas. In the future, it will be possible for humans to transform their etheric body; and the transformed part of the etheric body is called the “life spirit” or, in Eastern philosophy, “Buddhi.” And when human beings become masters of the processes of their physical body, we refer to this transformed part of the physical body as “Atman” or the “spiritual human being.” Thus, we look forward to a future, the beginnings of which are only just ahead of us today, in which human beings will consciously be the rulers and masters of their entire activity from their own ego.
But what will one day consciously belong to human beings has been prepared in human nature for a long time. And in a certain way, the ego has already been working unconsciously or subconsciously on the three members of human nature. We find that in ancient times the I transformed part of the astral body, which we also call the sentient body, into the “sentient soul”; that a part of the etheric body has been transformed into what we called in previous lectures the “intellectual soul” or “soul of feeling”; and finally, a part of the physical body has been transformed to serve the I, that is, the “consciousness soul.” Thus we have three members of the human being as the inner nature of human nature: the feeling soul, which is basically rooted in the feeling body; the intellectual or mind soul, which is rooted in the etheric body; and the consciousness soul, which is rooted in the physical body. Today, we are interested in human inner life above all insofar as the relationship between the sentient body and the sentient soul is concerned.
When we see a human being growing up from the moment of birth and observe how more and more of their abilities develop as if from the dark foundations of their physicality, we can say: The human sentient soul is working its way up to the light of day. For the sentient body has been built up by the human being from the whole environment of his being. We can understand this when we remember a saying of Goethe: The eye is formed by light for light. If we take any human sense organ through which human beings become conscious of the physical world around them, then not only does Schopenhauer's one-sided statement apply, that light could not be perceived if human beings had no eyes, but on the other hand, the following statement is equally true: if there were no light, there could be no eyes. Over infinitely long periods of time, as Goethe says, the light that is spread everywhere has worked on the organism, working from the indeterminate beginnings of that organ which is now capable of seeing the light. The eye is formed by light, in light, for light. When we look at our environment, we can see in it the forces that have developed in humans the abilities to become aware of this environment. Thus, the entire sentient body, the entire structure through which we relate to the environment, has been developed from the living forces of the environment. As humans, we have no part in this. The astral body is a product, a flower of the environment. Within it, the feeling soul appears in the feeling body. This feeling soul came into being when the I, as it were, separated out and plastically formed the feeling soul from the substance of the feeling body. Thus, the I lives in the sentient body and, as it were, draws out the substance for the sentient soul.
Now this I can work in two ways: first, by developing within itself those inner soul capacities of the sentient soul that are in harmony with the capacities and qualities of the sentient body and thus resonate harmoniously with them. This can be illustrated by an example taken from education. Education in particular provides us with the most beautiful and practical principles for what spiritual science is.
The feeling body is built up from the environment. Those who are around the child as educators from the beginning of its physical existence work on the feeling body. They can impart to the sentient body what the ego instructs it to have in terms of soul qualities that are in harmony with the qualities of the sentient body. But something can also be brought to the child that contradicts the qualities of the sentient body. If the child is brought up in such a way that it has a lively interest in everything that enters through its eyes, if it is able to enjoy colors and shapes in the right way, or if it knows how to delight in sound in the right way, if it is gradually able to bring about harmony between what comes in from outside and what arises in the feeling soul as joy, as pleasure, as participation and interest in existence, then what comes from within is a true reflection of existence; then what lives in the soul can harmonize with external existence. Then we can say that human beings not only live within themselves, not only are capable of developing a sentient soul in their sentient body, but that they have become capable of going out of themselves again; then they are not only able to see and hear what nature has enabled them to do, but they are also able to go out again to what they have seen and heard, to pour themselves into their environment, to live in what their feeling body conveys to them. Then there is not only harmony between the feeling life and the feeling soul, but also harmony between the environment and the experiences of the feeling soul. Then the feeling soul pours itself out into the environment; then the human being is truly a kind of mirror of the universe, a kind of microcosm, a small world that — according to Goethe — feels at ease in the wide, beautiful, and great world.
We can use another example: if a child were to grow up on a desert island, far away from any human society, it would not be able to develop certain abilities. It would not develop language, the ability to think, or those noble qualities that can only shine forth in the human soul through living together with other people. For these are qualities that develop within the human being, in the soul.
Now, human beings can develop in such a way that they go out from themselves with their qualities and create harmony with their environment; or they can also harden these qualities within themselves, causing them to wither away. Human beings cause what arises in the sentient soul to wither when they take in impressions from the outside world, such as color and sound, but do not awaken an echo within themselves to pour these impressions back out into the outside world with pleasure and interest. Human beings harden within themselves when they do not apply what they can develop in their dealings with other people in order to live it out in connection with other people. When they shut themselves off and only want to live with it within themselves, they create disharmony between themselves and their surroundings. They create a gap between their feeling soul and their feeling body. When people shut themselves off after first enjoying the fruits of human development, when they do not put what can only flourish within their fellow human beings back into the service of humanity, then a gap is created between people and their environment; be it the whole of the greater environment, when people confront the outside world without interest; be it the human environment, from which they have received the most beautiful interests. And the result is that the human being withers away within himself. For what comes to the human being from outside can only promote and enliven him if it is not torn away from its roots. It is as if the human being were torn away from the roots of his life if he did not want to pour his soul into his outer world. And if man increasingly separates himself from the outside world, the result is withering, the death of spiritual life. This is precisely the bad side of egoism that we now have to characterize, which arises from the fact that man works with his ego in such a way that he creates a gap between himself and his environment.
When egoism takes this form, when the human being is not the flower of the whole external world and is not continually nourished and enlivened by the external world, then it leads to his own demise. This is the barrier that generally stands in the way of egoism. And here we see what the essence of egoism consists of: on the one hand, it consists in the fact that the universe around us reaches its peak and blossoms in the human being himself, because the human being can draw the forces of this universe into himself; but on the other hand, he must consciously carry out what the plant does unconsciously. At the moment when the plant is to express its essence within itself, that which is behind the plant transfers the plant's egoism into a new plant. But human beings, as self-conscious beings, as bearers of the ego, are enabled to create this harmony within themselves. What he receives from outside, he should in turn give back at a certain level, giving birth, so to speak, to a higher self within his self, which does not harden within itself, but harmonizes with the rest of the world.
This insight can also come to humans through observing life, that egoism, when it develops one-sidedly, kills itself. The ordinary observation of life can lead to this becoming true. We need only look at those people who cannot take a living part in the great lawfulness and beauty of nature, from which the human organism itself is formed. How painful it must be for those who can see the whole picture when people pass by indifferently, even though their eyes and ears have been formed from the outside world, when they close themselves off from the roots of their existence and want only to brood within themselves. Here we see how existence, which is turned in on itself in this way, in turn punishes human beings. The person who carelessly passes by that to which he owes his own existence walks through the world as a smug person; and the result is that he rushes from desire to desire and does not even realize that he is seeking what is supposed to satisfy him in an indefinite nebulosity, while he himself should pour his essence into that from which his own is taken. Anyone who goes through the world and says: Oh, people are such a burden to me, I can't do anything with them; everyone disturbs my existence; I am far too good for this world! — should only consider that he is denying that from which he himself has grown. If he had been raised on a desert island without the humanity for which he considers himself too good, he would have remained stupid, he would not have developed the abilities he has. What he finds so great and praiseworthy in himself could not exist without those people he cannot relate to. He should realize that it is only through his own arbitrariness that he separates what lives within him from his surroundings, that he owes precisely to his surroundings what rebels so strongly against them. When a person rebels so strongly against nature and human existence, not only does his interest in nature and human existence die within him, but his vitality also withers away; he then goes through a barren, unsatisfied existence. All those who revel in world-weariness because they cannot find anything to interest them should ask themselves: Where is the reason for my egoism? Here, too, it becomes apparent that there is a law in the universe: the self-correction of all existence. Where egoism appears in the wrong place, it leads to the desolation of existence. If a person goes through life without taking an interest in their fellow human beings and the rest of the world, then they not only fail to utilize the powers they could use for the world and existence, but they also desolate and destroy themselves. That is the good thing about egoism: when taken to extremes, it crushes people.
If we now apply the great law that we have derived from the nature of egoism to the various faculties of the human soul, we can ask, for example: How does human egoism affect the consciousness soul, through which human beings come to knowledge and understanding of their environment? In other words, when can knowledge be truly fruitful? Knowledge can only be truly fruitful when it brings human beings into harmony with the rest of the world; that is, only those concepts and ideas that are taken from the environment, from the living worldview, are truly invigorating for the human soul. Only when we become one with the world will this knowledge be invigorating. Therefore, all knowledge that comes from the soul, which above all seeks the great truths of existence step by step, is so beneficial to the soul—and from there also to the outer physical body of the human being. On the other hand, everything that takes us out of our living connection with the world, all brooding within ourselves, which only incubates within us, is something that brings us into disharmony with the rest of the world and hardens us within ourselves. Here again is an opportunity to point out the widespread misunderstanding of the phrase “Know thyself!”, which has its meaning for all times. Only when a person has understood that they belong to the whole world, that their self is not only within their skin but spread across the whole world, across the sun, the stars, all beings on earth, and that this self only finds expression within their skin, only when they have recognized their interconnection with the whole world, can they apply the saying: “Know thyself!” Then self-knowledge is knowledge of the world. But if they have not first imbued themselves with this, they are just as intelligent as the individual finger that wanted to believe it could develop its own self without the organism. Cut it off, and it will certainly no longer be a finger in three weeks. The finger does not succumb to the illusion that it can exist without the organism. Only humans believe that they can be disconnected from the world. Knowledge of the world is self-knowledge, and self-knowledge is knowledge of the world. And all brooding within ourselves is only a sign that we cannot detach ourselves from ourselves.
Therefore, it is utter nonsense, which is currently being propagated in certain theosophical circles, to say that the solution to the riddles of existence lies not in the outside world, not in the phenomena interwoven with the spirit, but in one's own self. “Find God in your own heart,” is the instruction given by some today. “You need not strive to seek revelations of the world spirit out in the universe; just look within yourselves, and you will find everything there!” Such instruction does people a very poor service; it makes them arrogant and selfish in relation to knowledge. As a result, certain theosophical movements, instead of educating people to be selfless, instead of detaching them from their own selves and connecting them with the great mysteries of existence, harden them within themselves by claiming that they can find all truth and all wisdom within themselves. One can appeal to people's arrogance and vanity by saying: You don't need to learn anything in the world; you can find everything within yourselves! One appeals to the truth only when one shows that harmony with the greater world leads us to a place where people can become greater within themselves and thereby greater within the world.
The same is true of what we might call human emotion, the entire content of the human soul or mind. This becomes stronger when people know how to create harmony between themselves and the outside world. People do not become strong and powerful by brooding from morning to night: What should I think now? What should I do now? What is hurting me now? — and so on, but by allowing the beauty and grandeur of their surroundings to affect their heart, by having understanding and interest in everything that glows warmly in other hearts, or in what other people lack. By allowing those feelings to rise which develop understanding and lively interest in our environment, we develop life forces in the emotional world within ourselves. In this way we overcome narrow-minded egoism and elevate and enrich our ego by bringing it into harmony with our environment in true egoism. This is particularly evident where human will comes into play, the actual consciousness soul. As long as human beings can only will for themselves, as long as their impulses of will strive only for what is beneficial to their own nature, they will always feel dissatisfied within themselves. Only when they see the reflection of their will in the outside world, when the realization of their impulses of will takes place there, can they say that they have brought their will into harmony with what is happening in the environment. It is indeed the case that our own strength and power are not developed by what we want for ourselves, but by what we want for the environment, for other people; that our will is realized and shines back into us as a reflection. Just as light forms the eye out of us, so our soul strength is formed out of ourselves through the world of our deeds, our actions.
Thus we see how the human being, as a self-conscious being, through a correct understanding of his ego, his self, establishes harmony with what we call the outside world, until he outgrows himself and accomplishes what we can call the birth of a higher human being, and he brings forth something within himself, just as a plant on a lower level brings forth a new being from itself when it is in danger of hardening itself. This is how we must understand the nature of egoism. It is precisely the ego that allows itself to be fertilized by the environment, that produces a new ego at the summit of existence, that will be ripe to overflow into deeds that otherwise can only be expressed in worthless demands, in worthless moral postulates. For it is only through knowledge of the world that a will is kindled that can also relate back to the world. No matter how many societies have universal love for humanity as their primary agenda, it will never be possible to fulfill moral demands through any programmatic measures. All the usual preaching about love for humanity is no different than standing in a cold room with a stove and saying to it: Dear stove, your moral duty is to warm up the room! You could stand there for hours, for days, but it would never occur to the stove to warm up the room. In the same way, it does not occur to people to practice love for humanity, even if you preach for centuries that people should love one another. But if you bring together the human ego with the whole content of the world, if you let people share in what first bursts forth from the physical flowers, from all the beauties of nature, then you will see that this sharing is also the basis for the higher share that people can gain in each other. And by getting to know human beings, human natures, people actually learn, when they stand face to face with others, to understand their faults and their virtues.
Such wisdom, born of a living insight into the world, passes into the blood, into deeds, into the will. And what we call love for humanity is born of such wisdom. Just as you do not need to chatter in front of the stove: Dear stove, it is your duty to warm the room! — but simply put wood and fire in it and heat it up, so you should give people wood and fire that ignite, warm, and illuminate their souls: that is a living understanding of the world, where there is understanding of human nature, where there is harmonious resonance between the human ego and the rest of the outside world. This is also where living human love arises, that which can flow from heart to heart, which brings people together and teaches them to recognize that the deeds we do only for ourselves kill us, make us barren, but that the deeds that blossom in the lives of others are a reflection that goes back to our own strength. Thus, through correctly understood egoism, our ego becomes rich and capable of development when we live out our own self as much as possible in the self of others, when we develop not only our own feelings but also as much empathy as possible. This is how spiritual science views the nature of egoism.All those who have thought seriously and respectfully about existence have been deeply interested in the essence of what we have touched upon today. The essence of egoism had to interest the most highly developed people precisely at a time when human beings had broken away from certain relationships with their environment. The 18th century is, after all, the century in which human individuality broke away from its surroundings. One of those who dealt with the problem of human egoism, the human ego, was Goethe. And he gave us the actual poetry of egoism as an example from the world of what he thought about the nature of egoism. This poetry is his “Wilhelm Meister.”
In a similar way to how Faust accompanied him through life, the poetry of Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship and its sequel, Wilhelm Meister's Travels, accompanied Goethe through life. As early as the 1770s, Goethe felt compelled to shape the peculiar life of Wilhelm Meister as a kind of reflection of his own life; and in his old age, when he was already on the eve of his death, he completed this second poem in “The Years of Travel.” Now, it would be going too far to go into the details of Wilhelm Meister. Nevertheless, I would like to briefly draw your attention to the problem of egoism as it appears in Goethe's work.
One could say that Goethe depicts a truly sophisticated egoist in his Wilhelm Meister. Wilhelm Meister comes from a merchant family. But he is selfish enough not to remain in this profession, even though it is considered his duty to do so. What does he actually want? It becomes apparent that he wants to develop his own self as highly as possible, to shape himself as freely as possible. Becoming a kind of perfect human being is a vague notion that lives within him. Goethe then leads Wilhelm Meister through a wide variety of life experiences to show how life affects this individuality in order to elevate it. Goethe knows full well that Wilhelm Meister is driven around by all kinds of circumstances and yet does not reach a specific goal. That is why he calls him a “poor dog” at one point; but at the same time he says that he knows that even if a person has to struggle through stupidity and aberration, he is nevertheless led to a certain goal or at least a certain path by certain forces that exist in the world. It is Goethe's opinion, which never left his soul, that human life is never completely subject to chance, but, like all things, is subject to laws, namely spiritual laws. That is why Goethe says: The entire human race should be regarded as one large, aspiring individual who makes himself master of chance.Goethe thus wants to show how Wilhelm Meister is always striving to elevate, enrich, and perfect his ego. But at the same time, Goethe leads his Wilhelm Meister into living conditions that, in essence, lack the foundation of actual life. Now, we could understand from the nature of the 18th century why he removes him from real life. He leads him into the sphere of acting. So he is not supposed to pursue a real life career, but rather to move in circles that unfold the appearance of life, the image of life. Art itself is, in a certain sense, an image of life. It does not exist in immediate reality; it rises above immediate reality. Goethe was well aware that those who stand alone as artists with their art run the risk of losing their firm footing in reality. It is a beautiful saying that the muse can accompany, but not guide, us through life. At first, Wilhelm Meister surrenders himself completely to the guidance of the forces that lie in art, and in particular in an art that focuses on beautiful appearances, the art of acting.
If we let a little of Wilhelm Meister's life pass before our eyes, we see how he is indeed torn between dissatisfaction and joy. Two episodes are particularly important for understanding the first part of “Wilhelm Meister,” the “Apprenticeship Years.” Torn between dissatisfaction and joie de vivre, Wilhelm Meister finds himself in the company of actors. He finally reaches the point where he comes up with a kind of model performance of “Hamlet” and, precisely because of this, experiences a certain satisfaction within the element into which he has been driven. In this way, he elevates his ego. However, the two episodes interspersed throughout The Apprenticeship show us what Goethe really has in mind: namely, the nature of egoism.
First, there is the episode with little Mignon, whom Wilhelm Meister finds in somewhat dubious company and who accompanies him for a while like a wonderful character. It is very curious what Goethe once said about Mignon to Chancellor von Müller in a meaningful way in his later years. He referred to a remark made by Madame de Staël: that everything said about Mignon is actually an episode that does not belong in the poem at all. Goethe said that it was indeed an episode, and anyone who was only interested in the external progression of the narrative could say that this episode could just as well be omitted. But it would be quite wrong, Goethe said, to believe that the story of Mignon was only an episode; rather, the whole of Wilhelm Meister was actually written because of this remarkable character. Now, in direct conversation, Goethe expressed himself in such a way that he presented certain things radically, which should not be taken so literally. But if we delve deeper, we can also see why he said this to Chancellor von Müller. In this character of Mignon—this little figure was not actually supposed to have a proper name, because she was meant to signify “the darling”—Goethe depicts a human being who lives just long enough for the seed of such egoism to develop in her that can even be considered egoism at all. The whole psychology of this Mignon is very remarkable. This girl develops, in a naive way, everything that could be called “blossoming into external life.” One never notices any characteristic in this being that could show us that she would do even those things that other people do out of selfishness out of selfishness herself; rather, she does them out of the naturalness of her nature. One might say that this little creature would not be human if it did not do all these things; it is still so naive, it is still so human that selfishness has not yet stirred in it. At the moment when an episode in Wilhelm Meister's life begins that severs the bond connecting him to Mignon, she withers away and dies like a plant that also dies when it has reached a certain point in its existence. She is a being who is not yet human, not yet an “I,” who expresses childlike naivety, general humanity in connection with the whole environment. And she dies like the plant. One could say that the saying really applies to Mignon:
The rose is without reason, it blooms because it blooms,
It does not care about itself, does not ask whether anyone sees it.
One could really say: Two things, made by two different people, are two completely different things, even if they represent the same thing! What others do out of selfishness, she does out of the naturalness of her nature; and the moment something like a selfish impulse could arise in her soul, she dies. That is the magical thing about this being, that we have before us a person without ego, and that she slips from our hands as soon as egoism might stir. And since Goethe was primarily interested in the problem of egoism in Wilhelm Meister, we find it understandable that the words came to him at that time: What you should seek in Wilhelm Meister, you will actually find in his counterpart, in Mignon. What is revealed in this little creature, dying at the very moment she wants to be there, is precisely what makes it so difficult for Wilhelm Meister to develop his ego, and that is why he must be guided through the whole education of the school of life.
Then, seemingly without connection, is woven into “Wilhelm Meister” the part entitled “Confessions of a Beautiful Soul.” It is well known that these “confessions” are taken almost verbatim from the writings of Goethe's friend, Susanne von Klettenberg. What flowed from this lady's heart can be found in the “Confessions of a Beautiful Soul” in “Wilhelm Meister.” It is precisely in these confessions that the essence of egoism is revealed at its highest point, so to speak. How? This beautiful soul, Susanne von Klettenberg, has ascended to the highest levels of human life. But it is precisely in these confessions, when we follow people up to those high regions, that she shows us the dangers of egoism, the flip side of enrichment, of the fulfillment of the ego. For Susanne von Klettenberg gives us her own development in the “Confessions of a Beautiful Soul.” First, she shows how she enjoys her surroundings and other people, but then one day something awakens in her soul that tells her: Something lives within you that brings you closer to the God within you! The first thing she experiences is that these inner experiences alienate her from the outside world. She has no interest in her surroundings. She finds joy and bliss everywhere, and especially an inner happiness in her communication with what she inwardly calls and experiences as her “God.” She withdraws completely into her inner life. Basically, this beautiful soul feels that this is actually nothing more than a sophisticated form of egoism. This dawning of a spiritual inner life, which alienates people from their environment, makes them cold and heartless towards their surroundings, and isolates them from their environment, may initially give them satisfaction and a certain happiness. In the long run, however, it does not bring them happiness. For by alienating them from their environment, it desolates them within themselves. But this beautiful soul is at the same time an energetically striving soul, and so it progresses from stage to stage. It cannot completely detach itself from what comes from outside and can create harmony. So it always seeks the mysterious underpinnings in the symbols of the various religions in order to see reflected what has risen in its ego as its divine nature. But what it can experience in the outer forms is basically not enough for it. It wants to go further. And so it is led to a remarkable stage in its life. One day it says to itself: Everything that is humanity on our earth was not too insignificant for God to have descended and embodied himself in a human being. And at that moment, she does not feel that the outer world is degraded because it is not the spiritual itself, but only the expression of the spiritual, or because it represents a decline of the spiritual. Rather, at that moment, she feels that this outer world is truly imbued with the spiritual, and that human beings have no right to detach themselves from what surrounds them. Then another experience arose that told her: It is true what is said to have happened in Palestine at the beginning of our era. She participates in it, she herself experiences within herself the entire life of Christ Jesus up to his crucifixion and death. She experiences the divine in humanity, and she experiences it in such a way that, as she clearly describes, all external imagery, everything that could appear physically and sensually in images, recedes; that it becomes a purely spiritual and soul experience, something invisible yet visible, something inaudible yet audible. She now feels united not with an abstract divine, but with a divinity that belongs to the earthly world itself. But again, she has distanced herself in a certain way and cannot find her way back to ordinary life. Then something comes to her that enables her to see in every single natural object, in every individual existence, in all the circumstances that surround us every day, something that is an expression of the spiritual. She regards this as a kind of highest level. And it is characteristic of Goethe that he himself found a kind of confession where he could share the “Confessions of a Beautiful Soul.”
What did he want to show in this as an important point of education for Meister? Wilhelm Meister was to read this manuscript and thereby be led to a higher level. He was to be shown that man cannot develop a living, active soul life within himself highly enough; that he cannot go high and far enough in what can be called interaction with the spiritual world; but that shutting oneself off from the outside world cannot lead to satisfaction in one's existence, and that man only understands the great world around us when he pours his enriched inner life out over his environment.
Goethe wants to show that one can initially look at the environment as it is. There one will see the ordinary and trivial and will cling to the everyday. One might say: This is the ordinary everyday, the spiritual can only be found within oneself! And one can find it within oneself at the highest level. But once one has found it there, one is all the more obliged, for the sake of one's own self, to return to the outside world. Then you will find what you used to find in its spirituality. The same world can exist once for the trivial and once for the one who has found the spirit within himself. One finds the ordinary trivial world of today's monism, the other finds in this same world, because he has first enriched his own spiritual abilities and developed the organs within himself, the spiritual behind all the sensual. For Goethe, this inner development is a detour to gain knowledge of the world. This is represented above all by the soul that Goethe characterizes in Wilhelm Meister. Wilhelm Meister is brought forward precisely by the fact that more secret processes of life have an effect on him. It is less the external experiences than the lively immersion in the experiences and in the course of development of such a different soul.
Goethe's Wilhelm Meister has been criticized for the fact that, after Wilhelm Meister's “apprenticeship years” come to an end, there is something like a secret society behind him that guides people invisibly to him. It has been said that this could no longer interest people today; such a thing only existed in the 18th century. But for Goethe, there was something completely different behind it all. It was to be shown that the ego of the master really had to find its way through the various labyrinths of life, and that a certain spiritual guidance exists in humanity. What we encounter in “Wilhelm Meister” as the “Society of the Tower,” through which Wilhelm Meister is guided, was only meant to be a manifestation of the spiritual powers and forces that guide human beings, even if their own path through life may be one of “stupidity and confusion”; thus, Meister is guided further by invisible powers. In our time, such things are rightly dismissed from above. But in our time, the philistines also have the sole right to pass final judgment on personalities such as Goethe, for example. Anyone who knows the world will admit that no one can find more in a person than he has in himself. And so everyone could claim this about Goethe. But the philistine does not claim this; instead, he finds everything that is in Goethe. And woe betide anyone who claims otherwise. For he has all wisdom within himself and can survey all wisdom! Of course, this makes Goethe a philistine. That is not Goethe's fault.
Now philistines and non-philistines alike have been upset about the lack of composition and artistry in the “Wanderjahre.” Yes, it is something terrible that Goethe has served up to us here. At the height of his life, he wanted to use his own life experiences to show how a person can navigate the various labyrinths of life. In a way, he wanted to portray a reflection of himself. And he also tells us how this came about. At first, he had put a lot of effort into the first part of “Wanderjahre.” Let's not sugarcoat anything. But then they started printing before the rest was finished. And now it turned out that the printer could set type faster than Goethe could write. Goethe then continued the plot in sketch form. In earlier years, he had written various fairy tales and novellas, such as the story of the “Holy Family,” the story of the “Nut-Brown Girl,” the “Fairy Tale of the New Melusine,” and others. All of this is included in “Wanderjahre,” although it was not originally intended for it. Goethe proceeded by inserting such stories in various places and making quick transitions. This is quite uncomposed. But the story still did not progress quickly enough. Goethe still had some earlier works. He gave them to his secretary Eckermann and told him: Insert whatever you can! So Eckermann arranged what was left, and the individual parts are often quite loosely soldered together. One could say that this is a work completely lacking in composition! And anyone who wants to judge it from an artistic point of view is free to do so. But ultimately, Eckermann did not write a single line of it. These are all Goethe's works, and they are works in which he always expressed what was in his soul. And the figure of Wilhelm Meister was always before him. In this way, he was able to incorporate the events of life that had affected his soul. That is how they had affected him. And since “Wilhelm Meister” is a reflection of himself, these things basically wind their way into the course of the poem in the same way that they wound their way through Goethe's own life. And we do not get an inaccurate picture as a result. People have said: there is no tension in it, the action is constantly interrupted by wise explanations! They have not read the novel and criticize it to the ground. From their point of view, those concerned were of course right. But there is another point of view. One can learn a great deal from these “wandering years” if one has the interest and the will to climb up to the experiences from which Goethe himself learned. And that is also something. Must everything always have a good composition if there is something that can serve us in another way? Is that so bad? Perhaps it is very bad for those who already know everything and have nothing more to learn that there is so much wisdom in “Wilhelm Meister.”
The second part in particular expresses in a wonderful way how the ego can rise higher and higher and become the pinnacle of existence. In particular, we are shown how Wilhelm Meister sends his son to a very strange educational institution. Once again, philistines have passed a very negative judgment on this educational institution. They did not consider that Goethe did not want to implement this institution here or there in reality, but that he wanted to give a kind of view of education in his “pedagogical province” as a symbol. Those who come closer to this institution immediately notice how certain gestures express what is in the human soul. There is a gesture where the hands are clasped on the chest and the pupils look up. Then there is a gesture where the hands are clasped behind the back when a person stands next to another person. But there is something very special where the soul is expressed through the gesture of bowing down to the earth. When asked what all this means, it is explained that the boys should awaken in their souls, in their egos, what are called the “three reverences,” through which man can develop his soul higher and higher. These are presented to people as the most important principle of education. First, people should learn to look up in reverence to what is above them; then they should learn reverence for what is below them, so that they know in an appropriate way how they have grown out of what is below them; then they should learn to have reverence for what is beside them, what is equal as human being beside human being; for only then can human beings have the right reverence for their own ego. In this way they come into the right harmony with their environment, when they have the right reverence for what is above them, for what is below them, and for what is beside them. In this way, his ego will also be developed in the right way, and egoism cannot go astray.
Then it is shown how the most important religions of humanity should work within the human soul. The folk or ethnic religions should be experienced as gods or spirits that stand above man; then what might be called the philosophical religions should settle in through what descends into the soul as reverence for the same; and that which leads us down into existence, which can otherwise easily be despised, which allows us to regard death, pain, and the obstacles in the world with reverence in the right way, leads us to the right understanding of the Christian religion. For it is emphasized that the Christian religion shows us how God descends into the sensual shell, how he takes upon himself the whole misery of life and passes through everything human. Reverence for the lower is supposed to give us a correct understanding of the Christian religion.
In this way, we are shown the precise development of the human being. Goethe then depicts how Wilhelm Meister is led into a kind of temple, where, in meaningful images, the three religions appear before the souls of the boys who are to be educated there from their earliest youth, and how everything is to be brought into harmony in this utopian educational institution. But this institution expresses more a way of thinking, a way of imagining how human beings should grow up from early childhood so that, on the one hand, they find harmony with their environment and, on the other hand, they also have the opportunity to raise their ego higher and higher. This is depicted in the greatest detail. For example, it is shown how the boys do not differ in their outward appearance; they do not have the same clothes, which they receive according to their age groups, but are led to clothes of various kinds, which they themselves are allowed to choose. In this way, the children's individuality is developed. Yes, because a kind of esprit de corps always asserts itself, and the individual recedes in favor of imitating someone more powerful, so that individual boys choose the uniforms of others, the principle is even pursued that after a while such clothes are then discarded and gradually replaced by others. In short, Goethe wants to show how young people should be educated—down to their gestures—in everything that can lead them, on the one hand, to harmony with their environment and, on the other hand, to the development of individual inner freedom—down to their clothing.
One might call this a fantasy; one might also claim that such a thing has never existed in this form. But Goethe himself only wanted to say that it can be realized somehow and sometime, that these ideas should flow into the everywhere and always and settle in wherever they can settle in. Those who do not believe this to be possible could be made aware of Fichte, who developed a high ideal before his students; but he was conscious of this and said, especially for those who do not know much about reality but still call themselves realists: We others also know, perhaps even better, that ideals cannot be directly realized in ordinary life; but we also know that ideals must exist in order to regulate life and to be translated into life! — This is something that must be emphasized again and again. And those who do not want to have ideals, Fichte says, only show that Providence has not counted on them. And he adds that a good God may grant them rain and sunshine at the right time, good digestion, and, if possible, good thoughts! This self-evident statement could also be applied to those who claim that the educational institution in Goethe's “Wilhelm Meister” cannot be realized. It can be realized in the greatest and smallest ways, if there are people who try to introduce such principles into life even under our everyday circumstances.
And a second episode in “Wilhelm Meister” is the one where we are presented with a personality who shows to the highest degree the merging of the ego into the great Self of the world. This personality is portrayed to us in the remarkable figure of Makarie. Here Goethe shows us a personality who has awakened inwardly, who has developed the spirit within herself to such an extent that she lives in what pervades the world as spirit. Goethe depicts her in such a way that, through an inner knowledge that lives within her after the awakening of her soul, through the unleashing of her inner powers, she knows from within what a skilled astronomer at the height of his time calculates about the orbits of the stars. Goethe depicts what the highest spiritual scientific investigations are at the point where he expresses how the soul can become attuned to the entire universe precisely through spiritual science, how self-knowledge can become knowledge of the world and knowledge of the world can become self-knowledge.
He thus places around his Wilhelm Meister, as it were, a series of images that show us how the human self must develop. In the true sense, Goethe's Wilhelm Meister is from beginning to end an example of human development in such a way that the nature of egoism in relation to this development is brought into focus.
When we see a poet express such a significant problem in spiritual science, it is further proof for us — as we already saw in our reflections on Faust, on The Green Snake and the Beautiful Lily, and on Pandora — that we have before us in Goethe a genius who is one with what we call spiritual science in the true, genuine sense. Goethe himself speaks in this way when he says: It is only possible to grasp the essence of egoism if one considers the human being in his or her entirety, if one knows how the universe had to lead the human being out of the spirit to the point where he or she falls into the temptations of egoism. If human beings had not been able to fall into egoism, they would not be able to stand like a flower among all that is spread out before them. But if he succumbs to this temptation, he succumbs to what kills him. Thus, the wisdom of the whole world is that everything that is good in the world can overturn itself in order to appear in man as freedom; but that at the moment when man abuses his freedom, when he overturns himself in man, a self-correction occurs.
This is another chapter that shows us how all evil, all that is bad in human nature, when viewed from a higher perspective, can be transformed into good, into that which is a pledge to human beings for their eternal, ever-increasing progress. Thus, if we are not afraid to descend into the depths of pain and evil, all the teachings of spiritual science become something that leads to the highest heights of the spirit and all humanity, and which confirms what echoes to us from ancient Greek wisdom and poetry in the beautiful words with which we would like to conclude our reflection today:
Man is a shadow's dream,
but when the sun's rays shine in
upon him, sent by God, the day becomes bright
and all life is imbued with charm!