The Study of Man
GA 293
30 August 1919, Stuttgart
Lecture IX
If you yourselves have a well developed knowledge of the growing child, permeated by your own will and feeling, then you will be able to teach and educate well. Through an educational instinct which will awaken within you, you will be able to apply the results of this will-knowledge in the different departments of your work. But this knowledge must be truly real, which means it must rest upon a true understanding of the world of facts. Now in order to come to a real knowledge of the human being we have sought to place him before our minds from the standpoint first of the soul, and then of the spirit. We must be clear that a spiritual conception of man makes it necessary for us to consider the different conditions of consciousness, and to know that, primarily, our life spiritually takes its course in waking, dreaming and sleeping; and that all the different manifestations of human life can be characterised as fully awake, dreaming or sleeping conditions. We will try once more to descend gradually from the spirit through the soul to the body, so that we have the whole human being before us and also may be able to sum these observations at the end into a kind of hygiene of the growing child.
Now, as you know, the period of life which concerns us in teaching and education is that which includes the first two decades; and this time, as we know, is further divided into three periods. Up to the change of teeth the child bears a very distinct character, shown in his wanting to be an imitative being; he wants to imitate everything he sees in his environment. From the seventh year to puberty we have to do with a child who wants to take on authority what he has to know, to feel and will. And only with puberty comes the longing in man to gain a relationship to the world through his own individual judgment. Therefore in dealing with children of primary school age we must remember that at this age they long for the sway of authority from the innermost depths of their beings. We shall educate badly if we are not in a position to hold our authority in this age.
Now what we have to do is to survey the whole life activity of the human being in a spiritual description. This activity as we have already shown from varied points of view, includes thinking-cognition on the one hand, and willing on the other; feeling lies between. Now with regard to thinking-cognition it is man's task between birth and death gradually to permeate it with logic, with all that enables him to think logically. But what you yourselves, as teachers, have to know about logic must be kept in the background. For logic is, of course, something pre-eminently scientific; it must be brought to the children only through your whole general attitude. But as teachers you will have to have a mastery of logic.
Our exercise of logic, that is, of thinking-cognition, is an activity of three members. Firstly, in our thinking-cognition we always have what is called conclusions. In ordinary life thinking is expressed in speech. If you examine the structure of speech you will find that in speaking you are continually forming conclusions. This activity of forming conclusions is the most conscious of all human activities. Man could not express himself in speech unless he were continually uttering conclusions nor could he understand what another person said to him unless he were continuously receiving conclusions. Academic logic usually dismembers conclusions, thus falsifying them at the outset, in so far as conclusions appear in ordinary life. Academic logic takes no account of the fact that we form conclusions every time we look at any one single thing. Suppose that you go to a menagerie and see a lion. What do you do first of all when you perceive the lion? First you bring what you see in the lion to your consciousness; and only by this bringing to consciousness do you gain an understanding of your perceptions of the lion. Before you went to the menagerie, in your ordinary life, you learned that beings that have the form and habits of the lion you are now looking at are “animals.” This knowledge acquired in ordinary life you bring with you into the menagerie. Then you look at the lion and find: the lion is doing just what you have learned that animals do. You connect this with what you have brought with you out of your knowledge of life and then you form the judgment: the lion is an animal. It is not until you have formed this judgment that you can understand the particular concept “lion.” The first thing you form is a conclusion; the second is a judgment; the last thing you come to in life is a concept. Of course you are not aware that you are continuously carrying out this activity; but it is only by means of this activity that you can lead a conscious life which enables you to communicate with other human beings through speech. It is commonly thought that one comes to concepts first of all. This is not true. The first thing in life is conclusions. And in reality, if when we go into the menagerie we do not exclude our perception of the lion from the rest of our experience, but bring it into line with the whole of our previous experience, then what we accomplish first in the menagerie is the drawing of a conclusion. We must be clear on this point; going into the menagerie and seeing the lion is merely a single act and it belongs to the whole of life. We did not begin living when we entered the menagerie and turned our attention to the lion. This action is linked on to our previous life, and our previous life plays into it too, and what we take out with us when we leave the menagerie will again be carried over into the rest of life. If now we consider the whole process, what is the lion first of all? He is first of all a conclusion. That is absolutely true: the lion is a conclusion. A little later, the lion is a, judgment. And a little later still, the lion is a concept.
If you open a book on logic, that is, one of the older sort, you usually find amongst the conclusions the following famous one: “All men are mortal. Caius is a man. Therefore Caius is mortal.” Caius is indeed the most famous logical personality. Now actually this splitting up of the three judgments: “All men are mortal. Caius is a man. Therefore Caius is mortal,” is only to be found in the teaching of logic. In real life these three judgments weave into one another, forming a unity, for the life in thinking-knowing is in continual flux. You make all three judgments simultaneously when you approach the man Caius. What you are thinking of him already contains these three judgments within it. That is to say: first comes the conclusion. And only after that do you form the judgment, which is here put as the conclusion: “Therefore Caius is mortal.” And the last thing you get is the individualised concept: “The mortal Caius.”
Now these three things, conclusion, judgment and concept, exist in the knowing process, that is, in the living spirit of man. What is their relation to each other in the living spirit of man?
The conclusion can only live in the living spirit of man: only there can it have a healthy life; that means: the conclusion is only completely healthy when it occurs in fully waking life. This is very important, as we shall see later.
Therefore you ruin the soul of the child if you make him commit to memory ready-made conclusions. What I am now saying—and shall work out in detail with you later—is of the most fundamental importance for your teaching. In the Waldorf School you will get children of all ages who bear the result of former teaching. The children will have been taught in conclusions, judgments and concepts, and you will soon experience the result of this. You will have to build on the knowledge that the children have already acquired, for you cannot begin at the beginning with each child. We are so placed that we cannot build our school up from the bottom but have to begin with classes of all ages. You will thus find that the children's souls have already been prepared, and in your method of teaching in the early days you will have to be very careful not to worry the children to draw ready-made conclusions out of their sum of knowledge. If these conclusions are too firmly fixed in the children's souls it is better to leave them dormant and try to appeal to the child's present life in the making of conclusions.
Judgment, also, will make its appearance, and this of course in the full waking life. But judgment can also sink into the depths of the human soul, to where the soul is dreaming. The conclusion should not sink into the dreaming soul; only the judgment can do this. Thus every judgment that we form about the world sinks down into the dreaming soul.
Now what does this really mean? What is this dreaming soul? It is more of the nature of feeling, as we have already learned. When in life we form judgments and then pass on from them and continue on our way, we carry these judgments with us through the world. But we carry them through the world in feeling. This has also the further implication that forming judgments brings about a kind of habit of soul. You will be forming the soul habits of the child by the way you teach the children to form judgments. You must be absolutely aware of this fact. For it is the sentence which expresses judgment, and with every sentence you say to a child you are contributing a further atom to the habits of that child's soul. Hence the teacher, who possesses authority, must always be conscious that what he says will become part of the habits of soul of the child.
Now, to come from judgment to concept: we must realise that when we form a concept it goes down into the profoundest depths of man's being; regarding the matter spiritually, it goes down into the sleeping soul. The concept makes its way right down into the sleeping soul, and this is that part of the soul that is constantly at work upon the body. The waking soul does not work upon the body. The dreaming soul works upon it a little; it produces what lies in its habitual gestures. But the sleeping soul works right into the very forms of the body. In forming concepts, that is in formulating the results of judgments in men, you are working right into the sleeping soul, or in other words, right into the body of the human being. Now when the human being is born, he has reached a high degree of completion as far as his body is concerned; and the soul can only develop in a finer way what has been given to the human being by the stream of inheritance. But the soul does carry out this refining work. We go about the world and we look at people. These people we meet with have quite distinct faces. What is the content of these physiognomies? They contain, amongst other things, the result of all the concepts which teachers and educators inculcated in these people during their childhood. From the face of the mature man streams out to us the content of the many concepts poured into the soul of the child; for, in forming the man's physiognomy it is with fixed concepts—among other things—that the sleeping soul has wrought. Here we see what power educational work has upon the human being. He receives his stamp right down into his very body through the forming of concepts.
The most striking phenomenon in the world to-day is that we find men with such unpronounced features. Herman Bahr in the course of a lecture in Berlin once described an experience of his in a very spirited manner. He said that even as far back as the 1890's, if you were to go to the Rhine in the neighbourhood of Essen, and walking down the street were to meet people coming out of the factories, you would have the feeling: no one of these people is different from another; I am really looking at one single person who is coming out like a picture in a duplicating machine; it is impossible to distinguish these people from one another. A very significant observation! And Herman Bahr made another observation which is also very significant. He said: when in the '90s you were invited out to dinner in Berlin you had a lady on your right and on your left hand, but you really could not distinguish them from each other, except that you knew one was on your right hand and the other on your left. Then another day you were perhaps invited somewhere else, and it might easily happen that you could not be sure: is this yesterday's lady, or the lady of the day before?
In short, a certain uniformity has come over humanity, and this is a proof that there has been no true education in the preceding years. We must learn from these things what is really necessary in the transformation of our educational life, for education has a deep and far-reaching influence on the whole cultural life of the times. Therefore we can say: at those times in life when man is not confronted with any one particular fact, his concepts are living in the unconscious.
Concepts can live in the unconscious. Judgments can only live as habits of judgment in the semi-conscious, in the dreaming life. And conclusions should really only hold sway in the fully conscious waking life. That is to say, you must take great care to talk over with the children beforehand anything that is related to conclusions, and not let them store up ready-made conclusions. They should only store up what can develop and ripen into a concept. Now how can we bring this about?
Suppose you are forming concepts, and they are dead concepts. Then you graft the corpses of concepts into the human being. You graft dead concepts right into the bodily nature of man when you implant dead concepts on him. What kind of a concept should we then give the children? It must be a living concept if man has to live with it. Man is alive, thus the concept must also be alive. If in the child's ninth or tenth year you graft into him concepts which are meant to retain their same form in him until he is thirty or forty years of age, then you will be imputing him with the corpses of concepts, for the concept will not follow the life of the human being as he grows and develops. You must give the child such concepts as are capable of change in his later life. The educator must aim at giving the child concepts which will not remain the same throughout his life, but will change as the child grows older. If you do this you will be implanting live concepts in the child. And when is it that you give him dead concepts? When you continually give the child definitions, when you say: “A lion is ...” this or that, and make him learn it by heart, then you are grafting dead concepts into him; and you are expecting that at the age of thirty he will retain these concepts in the precise form in which you are now say: the making of many definitions is death to living teaching. What then must we do? In teaching we must not make definitions but rather must endeavour to make characterisations. We characterise things when we view them from as many standpoints as possible. If in Natural History we give the children simply what is to be found, for example, in the Natural History books of the present day, then we are really only defining the animal for him. We must try in all branches of our teaching to characterise the animal from different sides showing for example how men have gradually come to know about this animal, how they have come to make use of its work, and so on. But in a reasonable curriculum this characterisation will arise of itself, if, for instance, the teacher does not merely describe consecutively, say: first the cuttlefish, and then the mouse, and finally man, each in turn, in natural-historical order—but rather places cuttlefish, mouse and man side by side and relates them with one another. The interrelationships will prove so manifold that there will result, not a definition, but a characterisation. A right kind of teaching will aim, from the outset, at characterisation rather than definition.
It is of very great importance to make it your constant and conscious aim not to destroy anything in the growing human being, but to teach and educate him in such a way that he continues to be full of life, and does not dry up and become hard and rigid. You must therefore distinguish carefully between mobile concepts which you give the child and such concepts as need undergo no change.
These concepts will give the child a kind of skeleton in his soul. Therefore you must realise that you have to give the child things which can remain with him throughout his life. You must not give him dead concepts of all the details of life—concepts which must not remain with him—rather must you give him living concepts of the details of life and of the world, concepts which will develop with him organically. But you must connect everything with man. In the child's comprehension of the world everything must finally flow together into the idea of man. This idea of man should endure. All that you give a child when you tell him a fable and apply it to man, when in natural history you connect cuttlefish and mouse with man, or when in teaching the children Morse telegraphy you arouse a feeling of the wonder of the earth as a conductor—all these are things which unite the whole world in all its details with the human being. This is something that can remain with him. But the concept “man” is only built up gradually; you cannot give the child a ready-made concept of man. But when you have built it up then it can remain. In fact it is the most beautiful thing you can give a child in school for his later life: the idea, which is as many-sided and comprehensive as possible, of man.
What is living in the human being tends to transform itself in life in a really living way. If you succeed in giving the child concepts of reverence and devotion, living concepts of all that we call the mood of prayer in the widest sense, such a conception, permeated by the mood of prayer, is then a living conception and it lasts right on into old age; and in old age it transforms itself into the capacity of blessing, of being able to impart to others what comes from a mood of prayer. I once expressed this in a public lecture in the following way: a man or woman will only be able to impart blessing in old age if he or she has learned to pray rightly as a child. If as a child one learned to pray rightly then as an old man or old woman one can bless rightly and with greatest power.
Thus to give children concepts of this kind, which have to do with the most intimate nature of man, is to equip them with living concepts; and this living element is open to change, it transforms itself, changing with the very life of man. Let us once more consider this threefold division of childhood and youth from a rather different point of view. Up to the change of teeth man has a desire to imitate; up to puberty he longs for an authority to look up to; after this time he wants to apply his own judgment to the world.
This can be expressed in another way. When the human being comes forth from the world of soul and spirit and receives the garment of his body, what is it that he really wants to do? He wants to make actual in the physical world what he has lived through in the past in the spiritual world. In certain respects the human being before the change of teeth is entirely involved in the past. He is still filled with the devotion that one develops in the spiritual world. It is for this reason that he gives himself up to his environment by imitating the people around him. What then is the fundamental impulse, the completely unconscious mood of the child before the change of teeth? This fundamental mood is a very beautiful one, and it must be fostered in the child. It proceeds from the assumption, from the unconscious assumption that the whole world is of a moral nature. This is not exclusively the case in souls of the present day (I have already drawn attention to this in a lecture here) but by the very fact of becoming a physical being man has the tendency at birth to proceed from the unconscious assumption that the world is moral. It is good therefore for the whole education up to the change of teeth and even beyond this age, that one should bear in mind this unconscious assumption that the world is moral. I drew your attention to this by reading you two extracts, for which I had first shown you the preparation; this preparation rested entirely on the assumption that one describes things from a moral aspect. (In the lectures Discussions with Teachers.) I tried to show in the first piece about the sheep-dog, the butcher's dog and the lap-dog how human morals can be reflected in the animal world. And in the poem about the violet, by Hoffman von Fallersleben, I aimed at giving a moral without pedantry for children up to seven or beyond; thereby working in harmony with this assumption that the world is moral. This is the greatness and sublimity in the outlook of childhood, that children are a race who believe in the morality of the world, and therefore believe that the world may be imitated. Thus the child lives in the past and is to a great extent a revealer of the pre-natal past—not of the physical past, but of the past of soul and spirit.
From the change of teeth up to the time of adolescence the child really lives continually in the present, and is interested in what is going on in the world around him. When educating we must constantly keep in mind that children of primary school age want always to live in the present. How does one live in the present? One lives in the present when one enjoys the world around one, not in an animal way, but in a human way. And indeed the child of this age wants also to enjoy the world in the lessons he receives. Therefore from the outset we must make our teaching a thing of enjoyment for the children—not animal enjoyment, but enjoyment of a higher, human kind—not something that calls forth in them antipathy and repulsion.
There have of course been various good educational experiments on these lines. But here we are faced with a certain danger, namely that this principle of making teaching a source of pleasure and enjoyment can easily deteriorate into something paltry and commonplace. This must not happen. But the only sure preventive is for the teacher and educator to be ever willing to raise himself above what is commonplace, pedantic and philistine. This he can only do if he never neglects to make a really living contact with art. For in seeking to enjoy the world in a human, and not in an animal way one proceeds from a definite assumption: namely that the world is beautiful. And from the time he changes his teeth until puberty the child really proceeds on the unconscious assumption that he shall find the world beautiful. This unconscious assumption of the child that the world is beautiful is not met by the regulations laid down for “object lessons,” regulations which are often very crude and are drawn up purely from a utilitarian point of view. But this assumption is met if one will try and immerse oneself in artistic experience so that the teaching in this period may be artistic through and through. It sometimes makes one extremely sad to read present-day books on education and to see how the good principle that education should be made into a source of joy does not come into its own because what the teacher discourses on with his pupils is inartistic and commonplace. To-day it is much in favour to conduct object lessons on the Socratic method. But the nature of the questions asked is utilitarian in the extreme instead of partaking of the beautiful. And here no demonstrations or showing of set examples will be of any help. It is not a question of instructing the teacher that he shall adopt this method or that when choosing set pieces for his object lesson. What is essential is that the teacher himself by living in art should see to it that the things he talks about to his children are artistic.
The first part of a child's life, up to the change of teeth, is spent with the unconscious assumption: the world is moral. The second period, from the change of teeth to adolescence, is spent with the unconscious assumption: the world is beautiful. And only with adolescence dawns the possibility of discovering: the world is true. Thus it is not until then that education should begin to assume a “scientific” character. Before adolescence it is not good to give a purely systematising or scientific character to education, for not until adolescence does man attain a right and inward concept of truth.
In this way you will come to see that as the child descends into this physical world out of higher worlds the Past descends with him; that when he has accomplished the change of teeth the Present plays itself out in the boy or girl of school age, and that after fourteen the human being enters a time of life when impulses of the future assert themselves in his soul. Past, present and future, and life in the midst of them, this too is planted in the growing child.
Neunter Vortrag
Wenn Sie selbst ein gut entwickeltes, von Ihrem Willen und Ihrem Gemüt durchzogenes Wissen haben vom Wesen des werdenden Menschen, dann werden Sie auch gut unterrichten und gut erziehen. Sie werden auf die einzelnen Gebiete durch einen pädagogischen Instinkt, der in Ihnen erwachen wird, dasjenige anwenden, was sich Ihnen aus diesem willentlichen Wissen vom werdenden Kinde ergibt. Aber es muß dieses Wissen eben auch ein ganz reales sein, das heißt, auf wirklicher Erkenntnis der Tatsachenwelt beruhen.
Nun haben wir ja versucht, um zu einem wirklichen Wissen vom Menschen zu kommen, diesen Menschen zuerst vom seelischen, dann vom geistigen Gesichtspunkte aus ins Auge zu fassen. Wir wollen uns vor Augen stellen, daß die geistige Erfassung des Menschen notwendig macht, auf die verschiedenen Bewußtseinszustände zu reflektieren, zu wissen, daß es, zunächst wenigstens, darauf ankommt, daß unser Leben geistig verläuft in Wachen, Träumen und Schlafen und daß die einzelnen Lebensäußerungen so zu charakterisieren sind, daß man sie entweder als vollwachende, als träumerische oder als schlafende Lebenszustände ins Auge faßt. Nun werden wir versuchen, wiederum nach und nach hinunterzusteigen vom Geiste durch die Seele zum Leib, damit wir den ganzen Menschen vor uns haben können und zuletzt diese Betrachtungen auch auslaufen lassen können in eine gewisse Hygiene des werdenden Kindes.
Sie wissen ja, daß jenes Lebensalter, welches beim Unterricht und bei der Erziehung als Ganzes für uns in Betracht kommt, dasjenige ist, das die zwei ersten Lebensjahrzehnte in sich schließt. Wir wissen weiter, daß das Gesamtleben des Kindes mit Bezug auf diese zwei ersten Lebensjahrzehnte des jungen Menschen auch dreigeteilt ist. Bis zum Zahnwechsel trägt das Kind einen ganz bestimmten Charakter an sich, der sich namentlich dadurch ausspricht, daß es ein nachahmendes Wesen sein will; alles, was es in der Umgebung sieht, will es nachahmen. Vom siebenten Jahre bis zur Geschlechtsreife haben wir es zu tun mit dem Kinde, das auf Autorität hin dasjenige aufnehmen will, was es wissen, fühlen und wollen soll; und erst mit der Geschlechtsreife beginnt die Sehnsucht des Menschen, aus dem eigenen Urteil heraus sich mit der Umwelt in eine Beziehung zu setzen. Daher müssen wir fortwährend darauf Rücksicht nehmen, daß wir ja, wenn wir Kinder im Volksschulalter vor uns haben, den Menschen entwickeln, der gewissermaßen aus dem innersten Wesen seiner Natur heraus nach Autorität strebt. Wir werden schlecht erziehen, wenn wir nicht in der Lage sind, Autorität gerade in diesem Lebensalter zu halten.
Nun handelt es sich aber darum, daß wir die Gesamtlebenstätigkeit des Menschen auch geistig charakterisierend überschauen können. Diese Gesamtlebenstätigkeit des Menschen umfaßt, wie wir von den verschiedensten Gesichtspunkten her gekennzeichnet haben, das erkennende Denken auf der einen Seite, das Wollen auf der anderen Seite; Fühlen liegt zwischendrin. Nun ist der Mensch als Erdenmensch zwischen Geburt und Tod darauf angewiesen, dasjenige, was als erkennendes Denken sich äußert, allmählich zu durchdringen mit der Logik, mit alledem, was ihn befähigt, logisch zu denken. Nur werden Sie selbst, was Sie über Logik als Lehrer und Erzieher zu wissen haben, im Hintergrunde halten müssen. Denn natürlich ist Logik etwas ausgeprägt Wissenschaftliches; das soll man als solches nur durch sein ganzes Verhalten zunächst an das Kind heranbringen. Aber als Lehrer muß man das Wichtigste der Logik doch in sich tragen.
Indem wir uns logisch, das heißt denkend-erkennend betätigen, haben wir in dieser Betätigung immer drei Glieder. Erstens haben wir immerfort dasjenige in unserem denkenden Erkennen drinnen, was wir Schlüsse nennen. Für das gewöhnliche Leben äußert sich ja das Denken in der Sprache. Wenn Sie das Gefüge der Sprache überblicken, werden Sie finden: indem Sie sprechen, bilden Sie fortwährend Schlüsse aus. Diese Tätigkeit des Schließens ist die allerbewußteste im Menschen. Der Mensch würde sich durch die Sprache nicht äußern können, wenn er nicht fortwährend Schlüsse sprechen würde; er würde nicht das, was der andere zu ihm sagt, verstehen können, wenn er nicht fortwährend Schlüsse in sich aufnehmen könnte. Die Schullogik zergliedert gewöhnlich die Schlüsse; dadurch verfälscht sie sie schon, insofern die Schlüsse im gewöhnlichen Leben vorkommen. Die Schullogik bedenkt nicht, daß wir schon einen Schluß ziehen, wenn wir ein einzelnes Ding ins Auge fassen. Denken Sie sich, Sie gehen in eine Menagerie und sehen dort einen Löwen. Was tun Sie denn zuallererst, indem Sie den Löwen wahrnehmen? Sie werden zuallererst das, was Sie am Löwen sehen, sich zum Bewußtsein bringen, und nur durch dieses Sich-zum-Bewußtsein-Bringen kommen Sie mit Ihren Wahrnehmungen gegenüber dem Löwen zurecht. Sie haben im Leben gelernt, ehe Sie in die Menagerie gegangen sind, daß solche Wesen, die sich so äußern wie der Löwe, den Sie jetzt sehen, «Tiere» sind. Was Sie da aus dem Leben gelernt haben, bringen Sie schon mit in die Menagerie. Dann schauen Sie den Löwen an und finden: der Löwe tut eben auch das, was Sie bei den Tieren kennengelernt haben. Dies verbinden Sie mit dem, was Sie aus der Lebenserkenntnis mitgebracht haben, und bilden sich dann das Urteil: Der Löwe ist ein Tier. - Erst wenn Sie dieses Urteil sich gebildet haben, verstehen Sie den einzelnen Begriff «Löwe». Das erste, was Sie ausführen, ist ein Schluß; das zweite, was Sie ausführen, ist ein Urteil; und das letzte, wozu Sie im Leben kommen, ist ein Begriff. Sie wissen natürlich nicht, daß Sie diese Betätigung fortwährend vollziehen; aber würden Sie sie nicht vollziehen, so würden Sie kein bewußtes Leben führen, das Sie geeignet macht, sich durch die Sprache mit anderen Menschenwesen zu verständigen. Man glaubt gewöhnlich, der Mensch komme zuerst zu den Begriffen. Das ist nicht wahr. Das erste im Leben sind die Schlüsse. Und wir können sagen: Wenn wir nicht unsere Wahrnehmung des Löwen, wenn wir in die Menagerie gehen, aus der gesamten übrigen Lebenserfahrung herausschälen, sondern wenn wir sie in unsere ganze übrige Lebenserfahrung hineinstellen, so ist das erste, was wir in der Menagerte vollbringen, das Ziehen eines Schlusses. - Wir müssen uns klar sein: daß wir in die Menagerie gehen und den Löwen sehen, ist nur eine Einzelhandlung und gehört zum ganzen Leben hinzu. Wir haben nicht angefangen zu leben, als wir die Menagerie betreten und den Blick auf den Löwen gerichtet haben. Das schließt sich an das vorherige Leben an, und das vorherige Leben spielt da hinein, und wiederum wird das, was wir aus der Menagerie mitnehmen, hinausgetragen in das übrige Leben. - Wenn wir aber nun den ganzen Vorgang betrachten, was ist dann der Löwe zuerst? Er ist zuerst ein Schluß. Wir können durchaus sagen: Der Löwe ist ein Schluß. Ein bißchen später: Der Löwe ist ein Urteil. Und wieder ein bißchen später: Der Löwe ist ein Begriff.
Wenn Sie Logiken aufschlagen, namentlich solche älteren Kalibers, dann werden Sie unter den Schlüssen gewöhnlich den allerdings berühmt gewordenen Schluß angeführt finden: Alle Menschen sind sterblich; Cajus ist ein Mensch; also ist Cajus sterblich. — Cajus ist ja die allerberühmteste logische Persönlichkeit. Nun, dieses Auseinanderschälen der drei Urteile: «Alle Menschen sind sterblich», «Cajus ist ein Mensch», «also ist Cajus sterblich», findet in der Tat nur beim Logikunterricht statt. Im Leben weben diese drei Urteile ineinander, sind eins, denn das Leben verläuft fortwährend denkend-erkennend. Sie vollziehen immer alle drei Urteile gleichzeitig, indem Sie an einen Menschen «Cajus» herantreten. In dem, was Sie über ihn denken, stecken schon die drei Urteile drinnen. Das heißt, der Schluß ist zuerst da; dann erst bilden Sie das Urteil, das hier in der Conclusio ist: «also ist Cajus sterblich.» Und das letzte, was Sie bekommen, ist der individualisierte Begriff: «Der sterbliche Cajus.»
Nun haben diese drei Dinge - Schluß, Urteil, Begriff — ihr Dasein im Erkennen, das heißt im lebendigen Geiste des Menschen. Wie verhalten sie sich im lebendigen Geiste des Menschen?
Der Schluß kann nur leben im lebendigen Geiste des Menschen, nur dort hat er ein gesundes Leben; das heißt, der Schluß ist nur ganz gesund, wenn er verläuft im vollwachenden Leben. Das ist sehr wichtig, wie wir noch sehen werden.
Daher ruinieren Sie die Seele des Kindes, wenn Sie darauf hinarbeiten, daß fertige Schlüsse dem Gedächtnis anvertraut werden sollen. Was ich jetzt für den Unterricht sage, das ist, wie wir es noch im einzelnen auszuführen haben, von ganz fundamentaler Wichtigkeit. Sie werden in der Waldorfschule Kinder aller Altersstufen bekommen mit den Ergebnissen vorangehenden Unterrichtes. Es wird mit den Kindern gearbeitet worden sein — Sie werden das Ergebnis davon schon vorfinden im Schluß, Urteil, Begriff. Sie werden ja aus den Kindern das Wissen wieder heraufholen müssen, denn Sie können nicht mit jedem Kinde von neuem beginnen. Wir haben ja das Eigentümliche, daß wir die Schule nicht von unten aufbauen können, sondern gleich mit acht Klassen beginnen. Sie werden also präparierte Kinderseelen vorfinden und werden in der Methode in den allerersten Zeiten darauf Rücksicht nehmen müssen, daf3 Sie möglichst wenig die Kinder damit plagen, fertige Schlüsse aus dem Gedächtnis herauszuholen. Sind diese fertigen Schlüsse zu stark in die Seelen der Kinder gelegt, dann lasse man sie lieber unten liegen und bemühe sich, das gegenwärtige Leben des Kindes im Schließen leben zu lassen.
Das Urteil entwickelt sich ja zunächst auch, selbstverständlich, im vollwachenden Leben. Aber das Urteil kann schon hinuntersteigen in die Untergründe der menschlichen Seele, da, wo die Seele träumt. Der Schluß sollte nicht einmal in die träumende Seele hinunterziehen, sondern nur das Urteil kann in die träumende Seele hinunterziehen. Also alles, was wir uns als Urteil über die Welt bilden, zieht in die träumende Seele hinunter.
Ja, was ist denn diese träumende Seele eigentlich? Sie ist mehr das Gefühlsmäßige, wie wir gelernt haben. Wenn wir also im Leben Urteile gefällt haben und dann über die Urteilsfällung hinweggehen und das Leben weiterführen, so tragen wir unsere Urteile durch die Welt; aber wir tragen sie im Gefühl durch die Welt. Das heißt aber weiter: das Urteilen wird in uns eine Art Gewohnheit. Sie bilden die Seelengewohnheiten des Kindes aus durch die Art, wie Sie die Kinder urteilen lehren. Dessen müssen Sie sich durchaus bewußt sein. Denn der Ausdruck des Urteils im Leben ist der Satz, und mit jedem Satze, den Sie zu dem Kinde sprechen, tragen Sie ein Atom hinzu zu den Seelengewohnheiten des Kindes. Daher sollte der ja Autorität besitzende Lehrer sich immer bewußt sein, daß das, was er spricht, haften werde an den Seelengewohnheiten des Kindes.
Und kommen wir vom Urteil zum Begriff, so müssen wir uns gestehen: was wir als Begriff ausbilden, das steigt hinunter bis in die tiefste Tiefe des Menschenwesens, geistig betrachtet, steigt hinunter bis in die schlafende Seele. Der Begriff steigt hinunter bis in die schlafende Seele, und dies ist die Seele, die fortwährend am Leibe arbeitet. Die wachende Seele arbeitet nicht am Leibe. Ein wenig arbeitet die träumende Seele am Leibe; sie erzeugt das, was in seinen gewohnten Gebärden liegt. Aber die schlafende Seele wirkt bis in die Formen des Leibes hinein. Indem Sie Begriffe bilden, das heißt, indem Sie Ergebnisse der Urteile bei den Menschen feststellen, wirken Sie bis in die schlafende Seele oder, mit anderen Worten, bis in den Leib des Menschen hinein. Nun ist ja der Mensch in hohem Grade dem Leibe nach fertig gebildet, indem er geboren wird, und die Seele hat nur die Möglichkeit, das, was durch die Vererbungsströmung den Menschen überliefert wird, feiner auszubilden. Aber sie bildet es feiner aus. Wir gehen durch die Welt und schauen uns Menschen an. Diese Menschen treten uns entgegen mit ganz bestimmten Gesichtsphysiognomien. Was ist in diesen Gesichtsphysiognomien enthalten? Es ist in ihnen unter anderem enthalten das Ergebnis aller Begriffe, welche die Lehrer und Erzieher während der Kindheit in den Menschen hineingebracht haben. Aus dem Gesicht des reifen Menschen strahlt uns wieder das entgegen, was an Begriffen in die Kinderseele hineingegossen ist, denn die schlafende Seele hat die Physiognomie des Menschen unter anderem auch nach den feststehenden Begriffen gebildet. Hier sehen wir die Macht des Erzieherischen und Unterrichtlichen von uns auf den Menschen. Seinen Siegelabdruck bekommt der Mensch bis in den Leib hinein durch das Begriffebilden.
Heute ist die auffälligste Erscheinung in der Welt die, daß wir Menschen mit so wenig ausgeprägten Physiognomien finden. Recht geistreich hat einmal Hermann Bahr in einem Berliner Vortrage etwas erzählt aus seinen Lebenserfahrungen. Er meinte, wenn man so an den Rhein oder in die Gegend von Essen komme, in den neunziger Jahren des vorigen Jahrhunderts schon, und man ginge durch die Straßen und es begegneten einem die Menschen, die aus den Fabriken kämen, da hätte man so still das Gefühl: Ja, keiner unterscheidet sich vom anderen, es ist eigentlich nur ein einziger Mensch, der einem dort begegnet, wie durch einen Vervielfältigungsapparat im Bilde sich zeigend; man kann die Menschen eigentlich gar nicht voneinander unterscheiden. — Eine sehr wichtige Beobachtung! Und noch eine andere Beobachtung hat Hermann Bahr angeführt, die auch ganz wichtig ist. Er meinte: Wenn man in den neunziger Jahren in Berlin irgendwo eingeladen war zum Souper, man hatte rechts und links seine Tischdame, man konnte sie eigentlich nicht voneinander unterscheiden, aber man hatte wenigstens den Unterschied: die eine ist rechts, die andere ist links. Nun war man dann auch wieder woanders eingeladen, und es konnte einem dann passieren, daß man nicht unterscheiden konnte: ist das nun die Dame von gestern, oder ist es die von vorgestern?
Kurz, eine gewisse Uniformität ist in die Menschheit eingezogen. Das ist aber ein Beweis dafür, daß in den Menschen nichts heranerzogen worden ist in der vorhergehenden Zeit. An solchen Dingen muß man lernen, was notwendig ist in bezug auf die Umwandlung unseres Erziehungswesens, denn die Erziehung greift tief ein in das ganze Kulturleben. Daher können wir sagen: Wenn der Mensch durch das Leben geht und nicht gerade einer einzelnen Tatsache gegenübersteht, so leben im Unbewußten seine Begriffe.
Begriffe können also im Unbewußten leben. Urteile können nur leben als Urteilsgewohnheiten im halbbewußten, im träumerischen Leben, und Schlüsse sollen eigentlich nur im vollbewußten, wachen Leben herrschen. Das heißt, man soll recht viel Rücksicht darauf nehmen, daß man alles, was sich auf die Schlüsse bezieht, mit den Kindern bespricht und sie nicht fertige Schlüsse immer gerade bewahren läßt, sondern nur das bewahren läßt, was zum Begriff ausreift. Aber was ist dazu notwendig?
Denken Sie sich, Sie bilden Begriffe, und diese Begriffe sind tot. Dann impfen Sie den Menschen Begriffsleichname ein. Bis in seinen Leib hinein impfen Sie dem Menschen Begriffsleichname ein, wenn Sie ihm tote Begriffe einimpfen. Wie muß der Begriff sein, den wir dem Menschen beibringen? Er muß lebendig sein, wenn der Mensch mit ihm soll leben können. Der Mensch muß leben, also muß der Begriff mitleben können. Impfen Sie dem Kinde im neunten, zehnten Jahre Begriffe ein, die dazu bestimmt sind, daß sie der Mensch im dreißigsten, vierzigsten Jahre noch ebenso hat, dann impfen Sie ihm Begriffsleichname ein, denn der Begriff lebt dann nicht mit dem Menschen mit, wenn dieser sich entwickelt. Sie müssen dem Kinde solche Begriffe beibringen, die sich im Laufe des weiteren Lebens des Kindes umwandeln können. Der Erzieher muß darauf bedacht sein, solche Begriffe dem Kinde zu übermitteln, welche der Mensch dann im späteren Leben nicht mehr so hat, wie er sie einmal bekommen hat, sondern die sich selbst umwandeln im späteren Leben. Wenn Sie das machen, dann impfen Sie dem Kinde lebendige Begriffe ein. Und wann impfen Sie ihm tote Begriffe ein? Wenn Sie dem Kinde fortwährend Definitionen geben, wenn Sie sagen: Ein Löwe ist ... - und so weiter und das auswendig lernen lassen, dann impfen Sie ihm tote Begriffe ein; dann rechnen Sie damit, daß das Kind, wenn es dreißig Jahre ist, noch ganz genau so diese Begriffe hat, wie Sie sie ihm einmal beigebracht haben. Das heißt: das viele Definieren ist der Tod des lebendigen Unterrichtes. Was müssen wir also tun? Wir sollten im Unterricht nicht definieren, wir sollten versuchen zu charakterisieren. Wir charakterisieren, wenn wir die Dinge unter möglichst viele Gesichtspunkte stellen. Wenn wir einfach in der Naturgeschichte dem Kinde das beibringen, was zum Beispiel in den heutigen Naturgeschichten von den Tieren steht, so definieren wir ihm eigentlich nur das Tier. Wir müssen versuchen, in allen Gliedern des Unterrichtes das Tier von anderen Seiten aus zu charakterisieren, zum Beispiel von der Seite, wie die Menschen allmählich dazu gekommen sind, dieses Tier kennenzulernen, sich seiner Arbeit zu bedienen und so weiter. Aber schon ein rationell eingerichteter Unterricht selber wirkt charakterisierend, wenn Sie nicht einfach nur - wenn die betreffende Etappe des Unterrichtes gerade an der Reihe ist — naturgeschichtlich den Tintenfisch beschreiben, dann wieder, wenn es drankommt, die Maus, und dann wieder den Menschen, wenn es drankommt, sondern wenn Sie nebeneinanderstellen Tintenfisch, Maus und Menschen und diese aufeinander beziehen. Dann sind diese Beziehungen so vielgliedrig, daß nicht eine Definition herauskommt, sondern eine Charakteristik. Ein richtiger Unterricht arbeitet daher von vornherein nicht auf die Definition hin, sondern auf die Charakteristik.
Das ist von ganz besonderer Wichtigkeit, daß man sich stets bewußt ist: man ertöte nichts in dem werdenden Menschen, sondern man erziehe und unterrichte ihn so, daß er lebendig bleibt, daß er nicht vertrocknet, nicht erstarrt. Sie werden daher sorgfältig unterscheiden müssen bewegliche Begriffe, die Sie dem Kinde beibringen, und solche — es gibt auch solche -, die eigentlich einer Veränderung nicht zu unter‚liegen brauchen. Diese Begriffe werden beim Kinde eine Art Skelett seiner Seele geben können. Darauf werden Sie allerdings auch bedacht sein müssen, daß Sie dem Kinde etwas mitgeben müssen, was doch wieder für das ganze Leben bleibt. - Sie werden ihm nicht über die Einzelheiten des Lebens tote Begriffe geben dürfen, die nicht bleiben dürfen; Sie werden ihm lebendige Begriffe über die Einzelheiten des Lebens und der Welt geben müssen, die sich mit ihm selber organisch entwickeln. Aber Sie werden alles auf den Menschen beziehen müssen. Zuletzt wird alles in der Auffassung des Kindes zusammenströmen müssen in der Idee vom Menschen. Diese Idee vom Menschen darf bleiben. Alles, was Sie dem Kinde mitgeben, wenn Sie ihm eine Fabel erzählen und sie anwenden auf den Menschen, wenn Sie in der Naturgeschichte Tintenfisch und Maus auf den Menschen beziehen, wenn Sie beim Morsetelegraph ein Gefühl erregen von dem Wunder, das sich durch die Erdleitung vollzieht - alles das sind Dinge, welche die ganze Welt in ihren Einzelheiten verbinden mit dem Menschen. Das ist etwas, was bleiben kann. Aber man baut den Begriff vom Menschen ja erst allmählich auf, man kann dem Kinde nicht einen fertigen Begriff vom Menschen beibringen. Hat man ihn aber aufgebaut, dann darf er bleiben. Es ist sogar das Schönste, was man dem Kinde von der Schule ins spätere Leben mitgeben kann, die Idee, die möglichst vielseitige, möglichst viel enthaltende Idee vom Menschen.
Das, was im Menschen lebt, hat die Tendenz, sich im Leben wirklich auch lebendig umzuwandeln. Bringen Sie es dahin bei dem Kind, daß es Begriffe hat von Ehrfurcht, von Verehrung, Begriffe von alledem, was wir in einem umfassenderen Sinn nennen können die Gebetsstimmung, dann ist eine solche Vorstellung in dem Kinde, das mit der Gebetsstimmung durchdrungen ist, eine lebendige, reicht bis ins höchste Alter und wandelt sich um im höchsten Alter in die Fähigkeit zu segnen, bei anderen wieder die Ergebnisse der Gebetsstimmung auszuteilen. Ich habe es einmal so ausgedrückt, daß ich sagte: Kein Greis noch eine Greisin werden im Alter wirklich gut segnen können, die nicht als Kind richtig gebetet haben. Hat man als Kind richtig gebetet, so kann man als Greis oder Greisin richtig segnen, das heißt mit stärkster Kraft. Also solche Begriffe beibringen, die mit dem Intimsten des Menschen zusammenhängen, heißt den Menschen ausstatten mit lebendigen Begriffen; und das Lebendige geht Metamorphosen ein, wandelt sich um; mit dem Leben des Menschen selbst wandelt es sich um.
Betrachten wir einmal noch von einem etwas anderen Gesichtspunkte aus diese Dreigliederung des jugendlichen Lebensalters. Bis zum Zahnwechsel will der Mensch nachahmen, bis zur Geschlechtsreife will er unter Autorität stehen; dann will er sein Urteil auf die Welt anwenden.
Man kann das auch noch anders ausdrücken. Wenn der Mensch aus der geistig-seelischen Welt heraustritt, sich mit einem Leibe umkleidet, was will er da eigentlich? Er will das Vergangene, das er im Geistigen durchlebt hat, in der physischen Welt verwirklichen. Der Mensch ist gewissermaßen vor dem Zahnwechsel ganz auf das Vergangene noch eingestellt. Von jener Hingabe, die man in der geistigen Welt entwickelt, ist der Mensch noch erfüllt. Daher gibt er sich auch an seine Umgebung hin, indem er die Menschen nachahmt. Was ist denn nun der Grundimpuls, die noch ganz unbewußte Grundstimmung des Kindes bis zum Zahnwechsel? Diese Grundstimmung ist eigentlich eine sehr schöne, die auch gepflegt werden muß. Es ist die, welche von der Annahme, von der unbewußten Ausnahme ausgeht: Die ganze Welt ist moralisch. Es ist bei den heutigen Seelen nicht umfassend so; aber es ist im Menschen veranlagt, wenn er die Welt betritt, dadurch, daß er ein physisches Wesen wird, von der unbewußten Annahme auszugehen: Die Welt ist moralisch. Daher ist es gut für die ganze Erziehung bis zum Zahnwechsel und noch darüber hinaus, daß man etwas Rechnung trage dieser unbewußten Annahme: Die Welt ist moralisch. Ich habe darauf Rücksicht genommen, indem ich Ihnen zwei Lesestücke vorgeführt habe, für die ich zuerst die Vorbereitung gezeigt habe, und diese Präparation lebte ganz unter der Annahme, daß man moralisch charakterisiert. Ich versuchte zu charakterisieren bei dem Stück, wo es sich um das Hirtenhündchen, das Fleischerhündchen und das Polsterhündchen handelt, wie im Tierreiche Menschenmoral widergespiegelt sein kann. Und ich versuchte es auch, in dem Gedicht über das Veilchen von Hoffmann von Fallersleben, ohne Pedanterie Moral auch über das siebente Lebensjahr hinaus an das kindliche Leben heranzubringen, damit man dieser Annahme, die Welt ist moralisch, entgegenkommt. Das ist ja das Erhebende und Große im Anblick der Kinder, daß die Kinder eine Menschenrasse sind, die an die Moral der Welt glaubt und daher glaubt, daß man die Welt nachahmen dürfe. - Das Kind lebt so in der Vergangenheit und ist auch vielfach ein Offenbarer der vorgeburtlichen Vergangenheit, nicht der physischen, sondern der geistig-seelischen.
Indem der Mensch als Kind durch den Zahnwechsel durchgeht, lebt er bis zur Geschlechtsreife fortwährend eigentlich in der Gegenwart und interessiert sich für das Gegenwärtige. Und darauf muß beim Unterrichten und Erziehen fortwährend Rücksicht genommen werden, daß eigentlich der Volksschüler fortwährend in der Gegenwart leben will. Wie lebt man denn in der Gegenwart? In der Gegenwart lebt man, wenn man in einer nicht animalischen, sondern menschlichen Weise die Welt um sich her genießt. Tatsächlich, das Kind als Volksschüler will auch im Unterricht die Welt genießen. Wir sollen daher nicht versäumen, so zu unterrichten, daß nicht im animalischen, aber im höheren menschlichen Sinne der Unterricht wirklich für das Kind eine Art Genießen ist und nicht etwas, was ihm Antipathie und Ekel hervorruft. Auf diesem Gebiete hat ja die Pädagogik allerlei gute Anläufe gemacht. Aber es ist etwas Gefährliches auf diesem Gebiete. Das Gefährliche besteht darin, daß man dieses Prinzip, den Unterricht zu einem (Quell der Freude und des Genießens zu machen, sehr leicht ins Hausbackene verzerren kann. Das sollte nicht geschehen. Es kann aber nur Abhilfe geschaffen werden, wenn der Lehrer, der Unterrichtende, sich selbst fortwährend herausheben will aus dem Hausbackenen, Pedantischen, Philiströsen. Das kann er eigentlich nur dadurch, daß er nie versäumt, seine Beziehung zur Kunst recht lebendig sein zu lassen. Denn man geht von einer bestimmten Voraussetzung aus, wenn man menschlich - nicht animalisch — die Welt genießen will, von der Voraussetzung, daß die Welt schön ist. Und von dieser unbewußten Voraussetzung geht eigentlich das Kind von seinem Zahnwechsel bis zur Geschlechtsreife aus, daß es die Welt schön finden dürfe. Dieser unbewußten Annahme des Kindes, daß die Welt schön ist, daß also auch der Unterricht schön sein müsse, dem kommt man wahrhaftig nicht entgegen, wenn man die oftmals so banalen, rein vom Nützlichkeitsstandpunkte aus zugerichteten Regeln für den Anschauungsunterricht beobachtet, sondern wenn man selbst versucht, einzutauchen in künstlerisches Erleben, damit der Unterricht gerade in dieser Zeit durchkunstet werde. Es tut einem manchmal fürchterlich leid, wenn man die Didaktiken der Gegenwart liest und sieht, wie der gute Ansatz, daß man den Unterricht zu einem Quell der Freude machen möchte, dadurch nicht zu seinem Rechte kommt, daß das, was der Lehrer mit seinen Schülern bespricht, einen unästhetischen, einen hausbackenen Eindruck macht. Es ist ja heute beliebt, mit den Kindern Anschauungsunterricht zu treiben so nach sokratischer Methode. Aber die Fragen, welche da an die Kinder gestellt werden, tragen einen äußersten Nützlichkeitscharakter, nicht einen Charakter, der etwas in Schönheit lebt. Da nützt dann auch alles Aufstellen von Musterbeispielen nichts. Nicht darauf kommt es an, daß man dem Lehrer aufträgt: du sollst diese oder jene Art beim Auswählen deiner Musterbeispiele für den Anschauungsunterricht einhalten, sondern daß der Lehrer selbst dafür sorgt durch sein Leben in der Kunst, daß die Dinge geschmackvoll sind, die er mit den Kindern durchspricht.
Das erste Kindesleben bis zum Zahnwechsel geht mit der unbewußten Annahme vor sich: Die Welt ist moralisch. Das zweite Lebensalter, vom Zahnwechsel bis zur Geschlechtsreife, verläuft in der unbewußten Voraussetzung: Die Welt ist schön. Und erst mit der Geschlechtsreife beginnt dann so recht die Anlage dafür, auch das in der Welt zu finden: Die Welt ist wahr. Erst dann kann daher der Unterricht damit einsetzen, «wissenschaftlichen» Charakter zu bekommen. Vor der Geschlechtsreife ist es nicht gut, dem Unterricht einen bloß systematisierenden oder wissenschaftlichen Charakter zu geben; denn einen richtigen inneren Begriff von der Wahrheit bekommt der Mensch erst, wenn er geschlechtsreif geworden ist.
Auf diese Art werden Sie zu einer Einsicht kommen, daß sich mit dem werdenden Kinde aus höheren Welten herunterlebt in diese physische Welt hinein das Vergangene, daß, indem das Kind seinen Zahnwechsel vollzogen hat, sich in dem eigentlichen Volksschüler die Gegenwart auslebt und daß dann der Mensch in jenes Lebensalter eintritt, wo sich in seiner Seele die Zukunftsimpulse festsetzen. Vergangenheit, Gegenwart und Zukunft und das Leben darinnen: das steckt auch in dem werdenden Menschen.
Hier wollen wir halten und übermorgen mit dieser Betrachtung fortsetzen, die dann immer mehr ins praktische Unterrichten einlaufen wird.
Ninth Lecture
If you yourself have a well-developed knowledge of the nature of the developing human being, permeated by your will and your mind, then you will also teach and educate well. You will apply what you have learned from this conscious knowledge of the developing child to the individual areas through a pedagogical instinct that will awaken in you. But this knowledge must also be very real, that is, based on a true understanding of the world of facts.
Now, in order to arrive at a true knowledge of the human being, we have tried to view this human being first from a psychological and then from a spiritual point of view. Let us form the mental image that the spiritual understanding of the human being requires us to reflect on the different states of consciousness, to know that, at least initially, it is important that our life proceeds spiritually in waking, dreaming, and sleeping, and that the individual expressions of life can be characterized as either fully awake, dreamlike, or sleeping states of life. Now we will try to descend step by step from the spirit through the soul to the body, so that we can have the whole human being before us and finally allow these considerations to flow into a certain hygiene of the developing child.
You know that the age of life which we consider as a whole in teaching and education is that which encompasses the first two decades of life. We also know that the whole life of the child, in relation to these first two decades of the young person's life, is also divided into three parts. Until the change of teeth, the child has a very specific character, which is expressed in particular by its desire to be an imitative being; it wants to imitate everything it sees in its environment. From the age of seven until puberty, we are dealing with a child who wants to absorb what it should know, feel, and want through authority; and it is only with puberty that the human being begins to long to relate to the environment on the basis of its own judgment. Therefore, we must constantly bear in mind that when we are dealing with children of elementary school age, we are developing human beings who, in a sense, strive for authority from the innermost essence of their nature. We will educate them poorly if we are not able to maintain authority at this age.
Now, however, it is a matter of being able to survey the totality of human life activity in a spiritually characterizing way. This totality of human life activity, as we have characterized from various points of view, comprises cognitive thinking on the one hand and volition on the other; feeling lies in between. Now, as an earthly being between birth and death, the human being is dependent on gradually permeating what is expressed as cognitive thinking with logic, with everything that enables him to think logically. However, you yourself will have to keep what you know about logic as a teacher and educator in the background. For logic is, of course, something distinctly scientific; and as such it should only be introduced to the child through one's entire behavior. But as a teacher, one must carry the most important aspects of logic within oneself.
When we engage in logical activity, that is, thinking and recognizing, there are always three elements involved in this activity. First, we always have within our thinking and recognizing what we call conclusions. In everyday life, thinking is expressed in language. If you look at the structure of language, you will find that when you speak, you are constantly forming conclusions. This activity of reasoning is the most conscious in human beings. Human beings would not be able to express themselves through language if they did not constantly speak conclusions; they would not be able to understand what others say to them if they could not constantly absorb conclusions within themselves. School logic usually dissects conclusions; in doing so, it already distorts them, insofar as conclusions occur in everyday life. School logic does not consider that we already draw a conclusion when we consider a single thing. Imagine you go to a menagerie and see a lion there. What is the first thing you do when you perceive the lion? First of all, you become aware of what you see in the lion, and it is only through this awareness that you can cope with your perceptions of the lion. Before you went to the menagerie, you learned in life that creatures that behave like the lion you now see are “animals.” You bring what you have learned from life with you to the menagerie. Then you look at the lion and find that the lion does exactly what you have come to know animals do. You connect this with what you have brought with you from your knowledge of life and then form the judgment: the lion is an animal. Only when you have formed this judgment do you understand the individual concept of “lion.” The first thing you do is draw a conclusion; the second thing you do is make a judgment; and the last thing you come to in life is a concept. Of course, you are not aware that you are constantly performing this activity; but if you did not perform it, you would not lead a conscious life that enables you to communicate with other human beings through language. It is commonly believed that humans first arrive at concepts. That is not true. The first thing in life is conclusions. And we can say: if we do not extract our perception of the lion when we go to the menagerie from the entirety of our other life experiences, but instead place it within the entirety of our other life experiences, then the first thing we accomplish in the menagerie is to draw a conclusion. We must be clear that going to the menagerie and seeing the lion is only a single action and is part of our whole life. We did not begin to live when we entered the menagerie and looked at the lion. This is a continuation of our previous life, and our previous life plays a part in it, and in turn, what we take away from the menagerie is carried over into the rest of our lives. - But if we now consider the whole process, what is the lion first and foremost? It is first and foremost a conclusion. We can definitely say: the lion is a conclusion. A little later: the lion is a judgment. And a little later still: the lion is a concept.
If you open up books on logic, especially older ones, you will usually find the famous conclusion listed among the conclusions: All humans are mortal; Cajus is a human; therefore, Cajus is mortal. — Cajus is, after all, the most famous logical personality. Well, this unraveling of the three judgments: “All humans are mortal,” “Cajus is a human,” “therefore Cajus is mortal,” actually only takes place in logic lessons. In life, these three judgments are interwoven, they are one, because life is a continuous process of thinking and recognizing. You always make all three judgments at the same time when you approach a person named “Cajus.” The three judgments are already contained in what you think about him. That is, the conclusion comes first; only then do you form the judgment that is here in the conclusion: “therefore Cajus is mortal.” And the last thing you get is the individualized concept: “The mortal Cajus.”
Now these three things — conclusion, judgment, concept — have their existence in cognition, that is, in the living spirit of the human being. How do they behave in the living spirit of the human being?
The conclusion can only live in the living spirit of man; only there does it have a healthy life. That is to say, the conclusion is only completely healthy when it takes place in fully awakened life. This is very important, as we shall see.
Therefore, you ruin the soul of the child if you work toward entrusting ready-made conclusions to memory. What I am now saying about teaching is, as we will explain in detail, of fundamental importance. In Waldorf schools, you will have children of all ages with the results of previous teaching. Work will have been done with the children — you will already find the results of this in their conclusions, judgments, and concepts. You will have to draw the knowledge out of the children again, because you cannot start from scratch with each child. We have the peculiar situation that we cannot build the school from the bottom up, but must start with eight classes at once. You will therefore find prepared children's souls and will have to take this into account in your method in the very early stages, so that you burden the children as little as possible with having to retrieve ready-made conclusions from their memory. If these ready-made conclusions are too strongly embedded in the children's souls, then it is better to leave them there and try to let the child's present life live in the conclusions.
Judgment naturally develops first in fully awakened life. But judgment can already descend into the depths of the human soul, where the soul dreams. The conclusion should not even descend into the dreaming soul, but only judgment can descend into the dreaming soul. So everything we form as judgment about the world descends into the dreaming soul.
Yes, what is this dreaming soul actually? It is more the emotional, as we have learned. So when we have made judgments in life and then move on from those judgments and continue with our lives, we carry our judgments through the world; but we carry them through the world in our feelings. This means, however, that judging becomes a kind of habit in us. You shape the soul habits of the child through the way you teach children to judge. You must be very aware of this. For the expression of judgment in life is the sentence, and with every sentence you speak to the child, you add an atom to the soul habits of the child. Therefore, the teacher, who has authority, should always be aware that what he speaks will stick to the soul habits of the child.
And when we move from judgment to concept, we must admit that what we develop as a concept descends to the deepest depths of the human being, spiritually speaking, descends to the sleeping soul. The concept descends to the sleeping soul, and this is the soul that constantly works on the body. The waking soul does not work on the body. The dreaming soul works a little on the body; it produces what lies in its habitual gestures. But the sleeping soul works into the forms of the body. By forming concepts, that is, by determining the results of judgments in human beings, you work into the sleeping soul or, in other words, into the body of the human being. Now, when a person is born, their body is already largely formed, and the soul only has the opportunity to refine what has been passed on to them through heredity. But it does refine it. We go through the world and look at people. These people come towards us with very specific facial physiognomies. What is contained in these facial physiognomies? Among other things, they contain the result of all the concepts that teachers and educators have instilled in people during childhood. The face of the mature human being radiates back to us the concepts that have been poured into the child's soul, for the sleeping soul has formed the physiognomy of the human being according to, among other things, the fixed concepts. Here we see the power of our education and teaching on people. People receive their seal imprint deep into their bodies through the formation of concepts.
Today, the most striking phenomenon in the world is that we find people with such indistinct physiognomies. Hermann Bahr once told a very witty story from his life experiences in a lecture in Berlin. He said that when you came to the Rhine or the Essen area in the 1890s and walked through the streets and met people coming out of the factories, you had the quiet feeling that Yes, no one differs from anyone else; it is actually only one person you encounter there, as if appearing in a picture through a duplicating machine; you cannot really distinguish one person from another. — A very important observation! And Hermann Bahr made another observation that is also very important. He said: If you were invited to dinner somewhere in Berlin in the 1990s, you had your table companion on your right and left, you couldn't really tell them apart, but at least you had the difference: one is on the right, the other is on the left. Then you were invited somewhere else, and it could happen that you couldn't tell the difference: is this the lady from yesterday, or is it the one from the day before yesterday?
In short, a certain uniformity has crept into humanity. But this is proof that nothing has been cultivated in people in the previous period. We must learn from such things what is necessary in terms of transforming our education system, because education has a profound impact on the whole of cultural life. Therefore, we can say that when people go through life and are not confronted with a single fact, their concepts live in the unconscious.
Concepts can therefore live in the unconscious. Judgments can only live as habits of judgment in semi-conscious, dreamlike life, and conclusions should really only prevail in fully conscious, waking life. This means that we should take great care to discuss everything related to conclusions with children and not let them retain ready-made conclusions, but only let them retain what matures into a concept. But what is necessary for this?
Imagine you are forming concepts, and these concepts are dead. Then you are instilling dead concepts into people. You are instilling dead concepts into people's bodies when you instill dead concepts into them. What must the concept we teach people be like? It must be alive if people are to be able to live with it. People must live, so the concept must be able to live with them. If you instill concepts in a child in the ninth or tenth year that are destined to remain with them in their thirtieth or fortieth year, then you are instilling conceptual corpses, because the concept does not live with the person as they develop. You must teach the child concepts that can transform in the course of the child's further life. The educator must be careful to impart to the child concepts that the person will no longer have in later life as they once had them, but which will transform themselves in later life. If you do this, you will instill living concepts in the child. And when do you instill dead concepts? When you constantly give the child definitions, when you say: A lion is ... - and so on, and make them learn this by heart, then you are instilling dead concepts; then you can expect that when the child is thirty years old, they will still have exactly the same concepts that you once taught them. In other words, too many definitions are the death of lively teaching. So what should we do? We should not define in our teaching, we should try to characterize. We characterize when we look at things from as many angles as possible. If we simply teach the child in natural history what is written about animals in today's natural history books, for example, we are actually only defining the animal for them. We must try to characterize the animal from other angles in all parts of the lesson, for example, from the angle of how humans gradually came to know this animal, to make use of its work, and so on. But even a rationally structured lesson itself has a characterizing effect if you do not simply describe the octopus in terms of natural history when it is the turn of that stage of the lesson, then the mouse when it is the turn of that, and then humans when it is the turn of that, but if you juxtapose the octopus, the mouse, and humans and relate them to each other. Then these relationships are so multifaceted that the result is not a definition, but a characteristic. Proper teaching therefore does not work toward a definition from the outset, but toward a characteristic.
It is particularly important to always be aware that you should not kill anything in the developing human being, but rather educate and teach them in such a way that they remain alive, that they do not wither or become rigid. You will therefore have to carefully distinguish between flexible concepts that you teach the child and those — and there are some — that do not actually need to be changed. . These concepts will provide the child with a kind of skeleton for his soul. You will, of course, also have to be mindful that you must give the child something that will remain with him for his whole life. You must not give them dead concepts about the details of life that are not allowed to remain; you must give them living concepts about the details of life and the world that develop organically with them. But you will have to relate everything to human beings. Ultimately, everything in the child's perception must converge in the idea of the human being. This idea of the human being must remain. Everything you give the child when you tell them a fable and apply it to human beings, when you relate squids and mice to human beings in natural history, when you use Morse code to evoke a sense of wonder at what is happening through the earth wire – all these are things that connect the whole world in its details with human beings. That is something that can remain. But the concept of humanity is only built up gradually; you cannot teach a child a ready-made concept of humanity. But once it has been built up, it can remain. It is even the most beautiful thing you can give a child from school to later life: the idea of humanity, as versatile and comprehensive as possible.
What lives in human beings has a tendency to transform itself into something truly alive in life. Teach the child to have concepts of reverence, of veneration, concepts of all that we can call, in a broader sense, the spirit of prayer, then such a mental image in the child, imbued with the spirit of prayer, is a living one, reaching into old age and transforming itself in old age into the ability to bless, to distribute the results of the spirit of prayer to others. I once expressed it this way: No old man or old woman will be able to bless truly well in old age if they did not pray properly as children. If you prayed properly as a child, you can bless properly as an old man or old woman, that is, with the strongest power. So teaching concepts that are connected with the most intimate aspects of human beings means equipping them with living concepts; and what is alive undergoes metamorphoses, transforms itself; it transforms itself with the life of the human being itself.
Let us consider this threefold division of youth from a slightly different perspective. Until their teeth change, human beings want to imitate; until they reach sexual maturity, they want to be under authority; then they want to apply their judgment to the world.
This can also be expressed in another way. When human beings emerge from the spiritual-soul world and clothe themselves in a body, what do they actually want? They want to realize in the physical world what they have experienced in the spiritual world. Before their teeth change, human beings are, in a sense, still completely attuned to the past. They are still filled with the devotion they have developed in the spiritual world. Therefore, they also surrender themselves to their surroundings by imitating other people. What, then, is the basic impulse, the still completely unconscious basic mood of the child until the change of teeth? This basic mood is actually a very beautiful one, which must also be cultivated. It is the one that proceeds from the assumption, from the unconscious exception: the whole world is moral. This is not entirely true of today's souls, but it is inherent in human beings when they enter the world, in that they become physical beings, to assume unconsciously that the world is moral. It is therefore good for the whole education up to the change of teeth and beyond to take this unconscious assumption into account: the world is moral. I have taken this into account by presenting you with two reading pieces, for which I first showed the preparation, and this preparation was based entirely on the assumption that one characterizes morally. In the piece about the shepherd's dog, the butcher's dog, and the upholsterer's dog, I tried to characterize how human morality can be reflected in the animal kingdom. And I also tried, in the poem about the violet by Hoffmann von Fallersleben, to introduce morality into children's lives beyond the age of seven without pedantry, so as to accommodate this assumption that the world is moral. That is what is so uplifting and great about children: that they are a race of people who believe in the morality of the world and therefore believe that one may imitate the world. Children live in the past and are often revelators of the prenatal past, not the physical past, but the spiritual and mental past.
As a child goes through the process of changing teeth, they actually live continuously in the present until they reach sexual maturity and are interested in the present. And this must be taken into account continuously in teaching and education, that elementary school children actually want to live continuously in the present. How does one live in the present? One lives in the present when one enjoys the world around them in a human way, not an animalistic way. In fact, elementary school children also want to enjoy the world in the classroom. We should therefore not fail to teach in such a way that, in a higher human sense rather than an animalistic one, lessons are truly a kind of enjoyment for the child and not something that causes them antipathy and disgust. Pedagogy has made all kinds of good attempts in this area. But there is something dangerous in this area. The danger lies in the fact that this principle of making lessons a source of joy and enjoyment can very easily be distorted into something homespun. That should not happen. However, the only remedy is for the teacher, the instructor, to continually strive to rise above the homespun, pedantic, philistine. He can only do this by never failing to keep his relationship with art alive. For if one wants to enjoy the world in a human – not animalistic – way, one starts from a certain premise, namely that the world is beautiful. And from this unconscious premise, the child assumes, from the time it loses its baby teeth until it reaches sexual maturity, that it is allowed to find the world beautiful. This unconscious assumption on the part of the child that the world is beautiful, and that therefore teaching must also be beautiful, is certainly not accommodated by observing the often banal rules for visual teaching, which are designed purely from a utilitarian point of view, but rather by trying to immerse oneself in artistic experience, so that teaching is permeated by art, especially at this time. It is sometimes terribly sad to read about contemporary teaching methods and see how the good intention of making teaching a source of joy is not realized because what the teacher discusses with his or her students makes an unaesthetic, homespun impression. Today, it is popular to teach children using the Socratic method. But the questions asked of the children are extremely utilitarian in nature, not characterised by beauty. In this case, providing examples is of no use. It is not important to instruct the teacher to adhere to this or that method when selecting examples for visual teaching, but rather that the teacher himself ensures, through his life in art, that the things he discusses with the children are tasteful.
The first stage of a child's life, up to the change of teeth, proceeds with the unconscious assumption that the world is moral. The second stage of life, from the change of teeth to sexual maturity, proceeds with the unconscious assumption that the world is beautiful. And it is only with sexual maturity that the predisposition to find this in the world really begins: the world is true. Only then can teaching begin to take on a “scientific” character. Before sexual maturity, it is not good to give teaching a merely systematic or scientific character, for human beings only gain a true inner understanding of truth once they have reached sexual maturity.
In this way, you will come to understand that with the developing child, the past lives down from higher worlds into this physical world, that when the child has completed its tooth change, the present lives out in the actual elementary school child, and that then the human being enters that age of life when the impulses of the future become established in its soul. The past, the present, and the future, and the life within them: this is also contained in the unborn human being.
Let us pause here and continue with this reflection the day after tomorrow, when we will move more and more into practical teaching.