Man as a Being of Sense and Perception
GA 206
23 July 1921, Dornach
Lecture II
Yesterday I tried to draw the line between those sensory experiences which belong to the upper man, constituting man's essential soul life, and those which are more connected with the lower man, the content of which stands in much the same relationship to human consciousness as external experiences proper, only that these experiences take place within man. We have seen that the ego-sense, the sense of thought, the word-sense, the sense of hearing, the sense of warmth and the sense of sight are all experiences of the former kind, and that we then plunge into two regions in which man's inner experiences resemble external experiences so far as his consciousness is concerned; these two regions are, first, the senses of taste and smell, and then the other four, the inner senses proper.
You see at once how difficult it is to make do with the rough and ready terms which are suitable enough for descriptions of the external world, but quite inadequate directly one comes to consider the being of man and the structure of the world within him.
But at all events, if we are quite clear about this distinction between the upper and the lower man, both of which in a certain way are representative of the world-process, we shall also be well aware that there is a cleavage in our experience, that our relationship to the one pole of our experience is utterly different from our relationship to the other. Unless we grasp this division of the human being thoroughly we shall never reach full clarity about the most important problem of the present and of the near future, the problem of the relationship of the moral world, within which we live with our higher nature, within which we have responsibility, to that other world with which we are also connected, the world of natural necessity.
We know that in recent centuries, since the middle of the fifteenth century, human progress has consisted predominantly in the development of ideas about natural necessity. Humanity has paid less attention in recent centuries to the other pole of human experience. Anyone who is at all able to read the signs of the times, anyone who knows how to recognise the task of the times, is quite clear that there is a deep cleft between what is called moral necessity and what is called natural necessity.
This cleavage has arisen primarily because a great many of those who believe themselves to represent the spiritual life of to-day distinguish between a certain sphere of experience that can be grasped by science, by knowledge, and another sphere that is said to be grasped only by faith. And you know that in certain quarters only what can be brought under strict natural law is acknowledged to be really scientific; and another kind of certitude is postulated for all that falls within the sphere of the moral life, a certitude which only claims to be the certitude of faith. There are circumstantial theories as to the necessary distinction that has to be made between real scientific certainty and the certitude of belief.
All these distinctions, these theories, have come about because to-day we have very little historical consciousness; we pay very little attention to the conditions under which our present soul-content came into being. I have often given the classic example of this. I have often told you that to-day, when philosophers speak of the distinction between body and soul, they think they are using a concept which derives from original observation, whereas what they think about body and soul is merely the result of the decision of the eighth Æcumenical Council of 869, which raised to the status of dogma the doctrine that man must not be regarded as consisting of body, soul and spirit but of body and soul only, although some spiritual characteristics may be ascribed to the soul.
In the centuries that followed, this dogma became more and more firmly established. The Schoolmen in particular were steeped in it. And when modern philosophy developed out of Scholasticism, people thought that now they were forming their judgments from experience. But they were only judging according to their usual habits, through the centuries-old custom of assuming man to consist of body and soul.
This is the classic example of many situations in which present-day humanity believes that it forms an unprejudiced judgment, whereas the judgment it utters is nothing but the result of an historical event. One comes to a really sound judgment—and then not without difficulty—only by the survey of ever wider and wider historical epochs.
For example, the man who knows nothing but the scientific thought of the present time quite naturally thinks it the only valid kind of thought, and is incapable of thinking that there could be any other kind of knowledge. The man who, as well as being familiar with the scientific opinion of the present time—which has hardened somewhat since the middle of the fifteenth century—also knows a little of what was accepted in the early Middle Ages, right back to the fourth century, will form his judgments about the relations of man with the world somewhat as the Neo-Scholastics do. But at most he will be able to form opinions about man's relation to intellectuality; he will not be able to form any opinion about his relation to spirituality. For he does not know that if we go back earlier than, say, Aristotle, who died in 322 B.C., we have to see ourselves in a very different spiritual configuration from the one at present prevailing, in order to get any sort of understanding as to how the men of that time thought. To try to understand Plato or Heraclitus or Thales with a constitution of soul such as we have at the present day is an utter impossibility. We do not even understand Aristotle. And anyone who is at all familiar with the discussions that have taken place in modern times about the Aristotelian philosophy knows that amidst all the waging of wordy warfare which still goes on in connection with Aristotle countless misconceptions have arisen, simply because men have not reckoned with the fact that the moment we go back to Plato, for example, who was Aristotle's teacher, we need an entirely different spiritual constitution. For if one approaches Aristotle in a forward direction, from the direction of Plato, one judges his logic differently from the way one does if one merely looks back upon it with the spiritual make-up resulting from present-day culture.
Even when Aristotle was compiling his logic, which is certainly pretty abstract, very much intellectualised, he still had at least an external knowledge, even if not personal vision—there was certainly very little of that left in Aristotle—but he was still clearly aware that at one time it had been possible to see into the spiritual world, even if only in an instinctive way. And for him the rules of logic were the last utterance from above, from the spiritual world, if I may put it so. For Aristotle, accordingly, what he established as the laws or principles of logic were, so to say, shadows which had been cast down from the spiritual world—the world that was still a world of experience, a fact of consciousness, for Plato.
The enormous differences that obtain between different epochs of humanity is a thing that is usually overlooked. Let us take the years from the death of Aristotle, 322 B.C., to the Council of Nicea, A.D. 325; there you have a period which it is very difficult to get to know, because the Church took care to destroy all documents that might have given a more or less accurate picture of the state of soul of those three pre-Christian and three post-Christian centuries.
You have only to recall how often reference is made to-day to the Gnosis. But how do people know about the Gnosis? They know it through the writings of its opponents. Except for a very few texts, and those very far from representative ones, the whole of the Gnostic literature has been wiped out, and all we have are quotations from it in the works of its opponents, in works which are intended to refute it. We know about as much of the Gnosis as we should know of Anthroposophy if we were to make its acquaintance through the writings of Pius X. Nevertheless, out of this superficial knowledge people do hold forth about the Gnosis.
But the Gnosis was an essential element in the spiritual life of the centuries that I have just mentioned, To-day, of course, we cannot go back to it. But at that particular period it was an extremely important element in European development.
How can one really describe it? You see, one could not have spoken of it five hundred years earlier in the way it was spoken of in the fourth century A.D. For at that time there was still an instinctive clairvoyance, an ancient clairvoyance, there was knowledge of a super-sensible world, and one had to speak in a descriptive way out of this knowledge. The real spiritual world was always present in consciousness and was always behind such portrayals of it. Then that condition ceased.
It is a marked feature of Aristotle, for example, that this super-sensible world was for him only a tradition. He may have known something of it, but, as I have already said, in the main it was tradition for him. But the concepts which he received from the spiritual world still carried the impress of that world, an impress which was lost only in the third and fourth centuries A.D.
In Augustine we find no trace of the Gnosis; by his time it had quite disappeared. Thus we may say that the Gnosis is in its essence the abstract residuum of an earlier spiritual knowledge; it consists of naked concepts. What lived in it was a body of abstractions. We can see this already in Philo. And one can see abstractions in the ideas of the real Gnostics, too, but their teachings were abstractions of a spiritual world that had once been seen. By the fourth century A.D. things had come to the point when men no longer knew what to make of the ideas that formed the content of the Gnosis. Hence arose the dispute between Arius and Athanasius, which cannot really be reduced to a formula. The argument as to whether the Son is of the same nature and being as the Father, or of a different nature and being, is carried on in a realm in which the real content of the old ideas has been lost. The argument takes its course no longer with ideas, but merely with words.
All this formed the transition to the pure intellectualism which was to develop more and more, reaching western humanity just in the middle of the fifteenth century. By the time this intellectualism emerged, logic was something quite different from what it had been for Aristotle. For him, logic was, so to say, the residue of spiritual knowledge. He had made a compilation of what in earlier times had been experienced out of the spiritual world. By the middle of the fifteenth century the last scrap of consciousness of this spiritual world had vanished, and only the intellectual element remained; but now this intellectual element appears not as the residue of a spiritual world, but as an abstraction from the sense-world. What for Aristotle was a gift from the world above, was now taken to be an abstraction from the world below. And it was in essentials with this element that men such as Galileo, Copernicus, Kepler now went forward (though Kepler, it is true, still had some intuitions), seeking to apply an intellectualism, the spiritual origin of which had been lost, to the external world, the purely natural world. So that one can say that during its development from the fourth to the fifteenth century civilised humanity is, as it were, in labour with the intellectualism that only comes from below—an intellectualism which is fully born only in the fifteenth century, and thereafter establishes itself firmly, applying reason ever more and more to the observation of external nature, until in the nineteenth century it reaches its high-water mark in this respect.

If you take what I said yesterday about the ego-sense, the thought-sense, the word-sense and so on, you will come to the conclusion that in what we now experience through these senses in our ordinary human consciousness we are actually only dealing with pictures; otherwise there could not be those perpetual discussions which result inevitably from the characteristics of the present time. Indeed, a real understanding of the essential soul-life has for the time being been lost. An example of this is the way in which Brentano's attempt to write a psychology, a theory of the soul, failed ... something which he tried to do in all sincerity. Other people of course write psychologies, because they are less honest, less candid ... but he wanted in perfect candour to write a psychology that would be worth while, and he achieved nothing of any intrinsic value, because this could only have come from spiritual science, which he repudiated. Hence his psychology remained truncated, since he achieved so little of what he was really striving for. This failure of Brentano's psychology is an historic fact of profound significance. For the jugglery with all sorts of concepts and ideas that our psychological science pursues to-day was of course for Brentano something quite empty.
But now what we have here (see diagram) as the soul-life which is the outcome of the six upper senses, from the ego-sense to the sense of sight, all this was at one time filled with spiritual life. If we turn our gaze back to ancient times in Europe, back as far as Plato, all that afterwards became more and more devoid of spirituality, more and more intellectualised, was then filled with spirituality. We find there all that had been given to humanity in its evolution in a still more ancient time, in the time when the Orient had taken the lead as regards human civilisation; then men possessed a civilisation which was devoted to this soul-life, this true soul-life. So that we can say:
Oriental Culture
Ego-sense
Thought Sense
Word Sense
Sense of Sound
Sense of Warmth
Sense of Sight
All these senses furnish experiences which nourish the spiritual life, when spiritual life is present in the soul. And what humanity developed in this respect was developed within the ancient eastern culture. And you understand that culture best when you understand it in the light of what I have just told you.
But all this has, so to say, receded into the background of evolution. The life of the soul then lost its spirituality, it became intellectualised, and that, as I said, began in the fourth century B.C. Aristotle's compilation of abstract logic was the first milestone on the path of this despiritualisation of human soul-life, and the development of the Gnosis brought about its complete descent.
Now we still have the other man:
Western Culture
Sense of Taste
Sense of Smell
Sense of Balance
Sense of Movement
Sense of Life
Sense of Touch
And now a civilisation began that was based essentially upon the senses just enumerated. Even if you do not at first admit it, nevertheless it is so. For take the scientific spirit that emerged, the scientific spirit that tries to apply mathematics to everything. Mathematics, as I explained to you yesterday, comes from the senses of movement and of balance. Thus even the most spiritual things discovered by modern science come from the lower man. But modern scientists work above all with the sense of touch. You can make interesting studies to-day if you go into the sphere of physiology.
Of course, people talk about seeing, or about the eye, or about the sense of sight; but one who sees through these things knows that all the concepts that are used are somehow conjured from the sense of touch to the sense of sight. People work with things that are borrowed, smuggled in, from the sense of touch. People do not notice it, but in describing the sense of sight they make use of categories, of ideas, with which one grasps the sense of touch. What to-day is called sight in scientific circles is really only a somewhat complicated touching; and categories, concepts such as tasting or smelling, are sometimes brought in to help. We can see everywhere at work the way of grasping external phenomena which lies behind modern ideas. For modern anatomy and physiology have already discovered—or at any rate have a well-founded hypothesis—that modern thinking really has its roots in the sense of smell, in that thinking is bound up with the brain—thus not at all with the higher senses, but with a metamorphosis of the sense of smell. This characteristic attitude of ours in our grasp of the outer world is quite different from the relationship that Plato had. It is not a product of the higher senses, it is a product of the sense of smell, if I may put it so. I mean that to-day our perfection as man does not come from our having developed the higher senses, but from our having created for ourselves a modified, metamorphosed dog's muzzle.
This peculiar way of relating ourselves to the outer world is quite different from the way which befits a spiritual epoch. Now if we have to designate as oriental culture what was first revealed through the higher senses in ancient times, then what I have just depicted, in the midst of which we are now living, must be called the essence of western culture. This western culture is in essentials derived from the lower man.
I must again and again emphasise that there is no question of appraisal in what I am now saying; it is merely a statement of the course of history. I am certainly not trying to point out that the upper man is estimable and the lower man less estimable. The one is an absorption into the world, the other is not. And it does not help to introduce sympathy and antipathy, for then one does not reach objective knowledge. Anyone who wishes to understand what is contained in the Veda culture, the Yoga culture, must start from an understanding of these things, and must take this direction (see diagram, upper man). And whoever wishes to understand what is really to be found in its first beginnings, what has to be more and more developed for certain kinds of human relationships, what indeed in the nineteenth century has already reached a certain climax, has to know that it is particularly the lower man that is trying to emerge there, and that this emergence of the lower man is especially characteristic of the Anglo-American nature, of western culture.
Oriental Culture | Western Culture |
---|---|
Ego-sense Thought Sense Word Sense Sense of Sound Sense of Warmth Sense of Sight |
Sense of Taste Sense of Smell Sense of Balance Sense of Movement Sense of Life Sense of Touch |
A spirit specially representative of the rise of this culture is Lord Bacon of Verulam. In his Novum Organum, for instance, he makes statements—statements very easily misunderstood—that at bottom can have meaning only for superficial people. And yet what he says is extraordinarily characteristic. Bacon is in a certain respect both ill-informed and foolish, for as soon as he begins to speak of ancient cultures he talks nonsense; he knows nothing about them. That he is superficial can be demonstrated from his own writings. For instance, where he speaks about warmth—he is an empiricist—he gathers together everything that can be said about warmth, but one sees that he gets it all from notes of experiments. What he has to say about warmth, he did not find out for himself, but it has been pieced together by a clerk, a copyist, for it is a frightfully careless piece of work. Nevertheless Bacon is a milestone in modern evolution. One may dismiss his personality as of no interest, but yet through all his ineptitude and through all the rubbish that he again and again gives out, something continually gets through that is characteristic of the emergence of a culture that corresponds with what I have described here (see diagram, lower man). And humanity will not be able to emerge from the poverty of soul in which it is now living if it does not grasp that—for reasons which previous lectures will have made sufficiently clear—it was possible to live with the culture of the upper man, but it will not be possible to live with the culture of the lower man. For after all, man brings his soul with him into each new incarnation, a soul which has unconscious memories of earlier lives on earth. Man is ever and again urged towards what he has outlived. To-day he often does not know what it is that he is being driven towards. This urge consists in a vague longing; it is sometimes quite indefinable, but it is there. And it is there above all because one comes gradually to regard what belongs to this sphere (see diagram, lower man) as something objective, since it can be grasped in terms of laws. All that exists of a more traditional nature, and belongs to this sphere (see diagram, upper man) has, as regards its real nature, faded away into belief. And although people are at a loss how to attribute real existence to this moral content of the soul, and turn to faith as the only support for knowing anything about it, nevertheless they try to cling to it.
But, my dear friends, it is not possible for humanity nowadays to go on living with this cleavage in the soul. One can still argue that the evangelical antithesis, the opposition between faith and knowledge which has been elaborated particularly in the evangelical denominations, can be maintained as a theory; but it cannot be applied to life, one cannot live by it. Life itself gives the lie to such an antithesis. The way must be found to assimilate morality with that to which we ascribe real being, otherwise we shall always come to the point of saying: Natural necessity provides us with ideas about the beginning and the end of the earth; but when the end decreed by the scientists has arrived, what is to become of everything to which we ascribe human worth, of all that man attains inwardly, morally ... as to what is to become of that, how it is to be rescued from the perishing earth, all this has to be left to faith!
And it is interesting to note that it is just from this standpoint that Anthroposophy is attacked. Perhaps at this point I may be allowed to mention this attack, because it is typical; it does not emanate from one person, but from a number of people. They find that Anthroposophy claims to have a content of knowledge, and thus can be treated like scientific knowledge. Simpletons say of course that its content cannot be compared with scientific knowledge, that it is something else—well, that is self-evident, there is no need to mention it; but it can be treated in the same way as natural scientific knowledge. Many people also say that one cannot prove it. Those people have never made themselves acquainted with the nature of logical proof. But the main point is that people say that the things of which Anthroposophy treats ought not to be the objects of knowledge, for this would deprive them of their essential character. They must be objects of faith. For it is only in the fact that we know nothing of God, of eternal life, but only believe in these things, that their true value lies. And indeed such knowledge is assailed on the ground that it will undermine the religious character of these truths; for their sacredness is said to lie in the very fact that in them we believe something about which we know nothing. The very expression of our trust lies in our ignorance. I should very much like to know how men would get on with such a concept of trust in everyday life, if they had to have the same trust in those about whom they knew nothing as in those of whom they knew something ... at that rate one should no longer trust the divine spiritual powers when one gets to know them! Thus the essence of religion is supposed to consist in the fact that one does not know it, for the holiness of religious truths suffers injury when one converts those truths into knowledge.
That is what it comes to. If one pays any attention to the worthless scribbling that goes on, then every week one sees in print things that are reduced to nonsense if one analyses them into their original elementary constituents. To-day one must not ignore these things. I must again and again stress this, and I do not hesitate to repeat myself. For instance, when a respectable newspaper in Wurttemburg publishes an essay on Anthroposophy by a university lecturer who writes, “This Anthroposophy maintains that there is a spiritual world in which the spiritual beings move about like tables and chairs in physical space,” when a university don to-day is able to write such a sentence, we must leave no stone unturned to discredit him; he is impossible: nonsense in responsible quarters must not be allowed to pass. It is only when anyone is drunk that he sees tables and chairs move, and then only subjectively. And since Professor T. would neither admit that he was drunk when he wrote his authoritative article, nor that he was a spiritualist—for tables and chairs do move for spiritualists, even if not of themselves—then one is justified in saying that here we have an example of the most thoughtless nonsense. And by having written such nonsense, the Professor undermines confidence in all his knowledge.
To-day we must make it our bounden duty to treat such things with the utmost severity. And we shall become more and more entangled in the forces of decadence if we do not maintain this severity. We meet with utterly incredible things to-day, and the most incredible things get by, since we perpetually find excuse after excuse for the trickeries that are committed in so-called authoritative circles. To-day it is absolutely necessary to lay stress upon the importance of reaching clear ideas, full of content, in every sphere. And if one does this, then the doctrine of the separation between knowledge and faith cannot be maintained, for then it would be reduced to what I have just now pointed out.
But this distinction between knowledge and belief is something that has been brought about only in the course of history. It has come about partly for reasons which I have already mentioned, partly on account of something else. Above all, the following must be taken into consideration. To begin with, there is what came about in western Christianity in the first Christian centuries through the fusing of the Gnosis with the monotheistic Gospel teaching, and then there is the fusing of Christianity with the Aristotelianism that arose in the time of the Schoolmen—certainly in a highly intelligent way, but nevertheless merely as historical recollection. And this doctrine, the doctrine of the uniform origin of both body and soul through birth or conception, is a thoroughly Aristotelian doctrine. With the casting off of the old spirituality, with the emergence of pure intellectuality, Aristotle had already been divested of the notion of pre-existence, the notion of the life of the human soul before birth, before conception. This denial of the doctrine of pre-existence is not Christian; it is Aristotelian. It first became a dogmatic fetter through the introduction of Aristotelianism into Christian theology.
But at this point an important question arises—a question which can be answered to some extent from the substance of the lectures I have given here in recent weeks. If you remember much of what I have lately been saying, you will have come to the conclusion that the materialism of the nineteenth century is in a certain sense not wholly unjustified (I have repeatedly stressed this). Why! Because what confronts us in the human being, in so far as he is a physical-material being, is an image, a reproduction, of his spiritual evolution since his last death. What develops here between birth and death is not in fact the pure soul-spiritual; it is the soul-physical, a copy. Out of man's experiences between birth and death there is no possibility of acquiring a scientific conception of life after death. There is nothing which offers a possible proof of immortality, if one looks merely at the life between birth and death.
But traditional Christianity does look only at this life between birth and death, for it regards the soul as well as the body as having been created at the time of birth or conception. This viewpoint makes it impossible to acquire knowledge about life after death. Unless one accepts the existence of life before birth, knowledge of which can, as you know, be acquired, one can never obtain knowledge of life after death. Hence the cleavage between knowledge and belief as regards the question of immortality arises from the dogma which denies the life before birth. It was because men wanted to drop the knowledge of pre-natal life that it became necessary to postulate a special certitude of faith. For if, whilst denying pre-natal life, one still wishes to speak of a life after death, then one cannot speak of it as scientific knowledge.
You see how systematically ordered the dogmatic structure is. Its purpose is to spread darkness among mankind about spiritual science. How can that be done? On the one hand by attacking the doctrine of life before birth ... then there can be no knowledge about life after death, then men have to believe it on the basis of dogma. The fight for belief in dogma is waged by fighting against knowledge of life before birth.
The way dogma has developed since the fourth century A.D., and the way modern scientific notions have developed without interruption out of dogma—it is all extraordinarily systematic! For all these scientific ideas can be traced back to their origin in dogma, only they are now applied to the observation of external nature, and it can be shown how thereby the way has been paved for man's dependence upon mere belief. Because man will have some relationship to immortality, he is deprived of his knowledge—for he has been deprived of it—and then he is open to dogmatic belief. Then dogmatic belief can seek out its kingdom.
This is at the same time a social question, a question relevant to the evolution of humanity, a question that has to be clearly faced to-day. And it is the crucial test, not only of the value of modern culture, but also of the value of the modern scientific spirit, and of humanity's prospects of recovering the strength to rise, to climb up again.

Fünfzehnter Vortrag
Ich habe gestern versucht, gewissermaßen den Schnitt zu ziehen zwischen jenen Sinneserlebnissen, die dem oberen Menschen, wenn ich so sagen darf, angehören, die das eigentliche Seelenleben des Menschen konstituieren, und denjenigen Sinneserlebnissen, die mehr einem unteren Menschen angehören, deren Inhalt gewissermaßen der menschlichen Bewußtheit in ähnlicher Weise gegenübersteht wie eigentlich äußere Erlebnisse, nur daß sie eben sich im Inneren des Menschen abspielen. Wir haben gesehen, daß zu den Sinneserlebnissen der ersteren Art diejenigen des Ichsinnes, des Gedankensinnes, des Wortesinnes, des Gehörsinnes, des Wärmesinnes und des Sehsinnes gehören, und wir haben gesehen, daß wir in zwei Regionen eintauchen, in denen der Mensch im wesentlichen seine inneren Erlebnisse gleichartig den äußeren Erlebnissen im Bewußtsein hat, indem wir den Geschmackssinn, Geruchssinn und die andern, die eigentlich inneren Sinne haben. Sie sehen schon, indem man über ein solches Thema redet, wie schwierig es ist, mit jenen gröberen Ausdrücken zu hantieren, die für die Charakteristik der Außenwelt ja ganz gut anwendbar sind, die aber natürlich sofort versagen, wenn man die menschliche Wesenheit selbst und das Innere des Weltengefüges in Betracht zieht.
Jedenfalls aber kann demjenigen, der sich ganz klarmacht diesen Unterschied des oberen und des unteren Menschen, die ja beide in einer gewissen Weise das Weltgeschehen repräsentieren, auch klarwerden, wie durch unser Erleben ein Schnitt geht, wie wir in einer ganz verschiedenen Art gewissermaßen den einen Pol unseres Erlebens gegenüberstellen dem andern Pol. Ohne daß man sich gewissenhaft befaßt mit dieser Gliederung der menschlichen Wesenheit, wird man doch nicht in einer hinlänglichen Weise über das allerwichtigste Problem der Gegenwart und der nächsten Zukunft zur Klarheit kommen können, nämlich über das Problem: Wie steht es eigentlich mit dem Verhältnisse der moralischen Welt, innerhalb welcher wir mit unserer höheren menschlichen Natur doch leben, innerhalb welcher unsere menschliche und Weltverantwortlichkeit vorhanden ist, zu jener Welt, in die wir nun auch eingespannt sind, der Welt der Naturnotwendigkeit?
Wir wissen ja, daß in den letzten Jahrhunderten, seit der Mitte des 15. Jahrhunderts, der menschliche Fortschritt namentlich darauf beruhte, daß die Vorstellungen ausgebildet worden sind, die sich auf die Naturnotwendigkeit beziehen. Weniger Aufmerksamkeit hat die Menschheit in diesen Jahrhunderten auf das andere Gebiet des menschlichen Erlebens verwendet, auf das Gebiet der moralischen Weltenordnung. Heute ist für jeden, der nur ein wenig die Zeichen der Zeit zu deuten versteht, der sich bekanntzumachen weiß mit den großen Aufgaben der Zeit, ohne weiteres klar, daß ein tiefer Spalt besteht zwischen dem, was moralische Notwendigkeit genannt wird und demjenigen, was natürliche Notwendigkeit genannt wird.
Dieser Spalt hat sich ja namentlich in der Weise aufgetan, daß eine große Anzahl von Menschen, die da glauben, im heutigen Geistesleben ganz drinnenzustehen, den Unterschied machen zwischen einem gewissen Gebiete des Erlebens, das vom Wissen, vom Erkennen umfaßt werden kann, und dem andern Gebiete des Erlebens, das nur vom Glauben umfaßt werden soll. Und Sie wissen ja, daß man auf gewissen Seiten als eigentlich wissenschaftlich nur gelten läßt, was man in strenge, wie man es so nennt, Naturgesetze bringen kann, daß man geradezu eine andere Art von Gewißheit statuieren will für alles das, was das Leben des Moralischen ist, und daß man für diese Gewißheit bloß eine Art von Glaubensgewißheit in Anspruch nimmt. Es gibt ausführliche Theorien über die notwendige Unterscheidung, die man machen müßte zwischen der eigentlich wissenschaftlichen Gewißheit und der Glaubensgewißheit.
Alle diese Unterscheidungen, alle diese Theorien beruhen ja im Grunde genommen darauf, daß man heute ein sehr geringes historisches Bewußtsein hat, daß man die Bedingungen, unter denen unsere gegenwärtigen Seeleninhalte zustande gekommen sind, sehr wenig berücksichtigt. Ich habe ja das klassische Beispiel dafür öfter angegeben. Ich habe Ihnen gesagt, wie heute zum Beispiel die Philosophen meinen, mit der Unterscheidung des Menschen in Leib und Seele etwas zu sagen, was auf irgendeiner ursprünglichen Beobachtung oder dergleichen beruht, während dasjenige, was die Menschen über die beiden Gebiete Leib und Seele denken, lediglich ein Ergebnis eines Konzilsbeschlusses ist, des Konzilsbeschlusses von 869, des achten Konzils, das zum Dogma erhoben hat den Lehrsatz: der Mensch dürfe nicht angesehen werden als bestehend aus Leib, Seele und Geist, sondern nur aus Leib und Seele, und der Seele dürften eben einige geistige Eigenschaften zugeschrieben werden.
Dieses Dogma ist in den folgenden Jahrhunderten immer mehr und mehr befestigt worden. In diesem Dogma haben namentlich die Philosophen des Mittelalters gelebt. Und als sich aus der mittelalterlichen Philosophie die neuere Philosophie herausgebildet hat, da glaubten die Leute aus ihren Erfahrungen heraus zu urteilen. Aber sie urteilten nur nach der Gewohnheit, die sie sich angeeignet haben in Gemäßheit dessen, was eben eine jahrhundertealte Gewohnheit geworden war: den Menschen als nur bestehend aus Leib und Seele anzunehmen.
Es ist dies das klassische Beispiel für manches, worinnen die heutige Menschheit steht, indem sie glaubt, ein unbefangenes Urteil zu haben, während das Urteil, das geäußert wird, nichts anderes ist als das Ergebnis eines historischen Vorganges. Man kommt auch nicht leicht zu einem wirklich maßgeblichen Urteil als lediglich durch das Überschauen von immer größeren und größeren historischen Zeiträumen.
Wer zum Beispiel nur das wissenschaftliche Denken der Gegenwart kennt, bei dem ist es ganz selbstverständlich, daß er nur dieses für maßgebend hält, daß er sich gar nicht denken kann, daß man auch irgendeine andere Art von Erkenntnis haben könne. Wer, sagen wir, zu diesem wissenschaftlichen Urteil der Gegenwart hinzu, das sich seit der Mitte des 15. Jahrhunderts etwa befestigt hat, noch ein wenig dasjenige kennt, was im früheren Mittelalter geltend war bis ins 4. nachchristliche Jahrhundert zurück, der wird etwa so urteilen, wie die besseren Neuscholastiker der Gegenwart über die Beziehungen des Menschen zur intellektuellen Welt urteilen; aber er wird keineswegs ein Urteil gewinnen können über etwas anderes als höchstens über das Verhältnis des Menschen zur Intellektualität, nicht aber ein Urteil über das Verhältnis des Menschen zur Geistigkeit. Denn er weiß nicht, daß, wenn man zurückgeht, sagen wir hinter Aristoteles, der ja 322 vor Christi Geburt gestorben ist, man, um überhaupt ein Verständnis zu gewinnen für die Art und Weise, wie die Menschen damals gedacht haben, sich selbst in eine ganz andere Geisteskonfiguration hineinfinden muß, als diejenige ist, die man etwa in der Gegenwart hat. Plato oder gar Heraklit oder Thales mit einer solchen Geistesverfassung verstehen zu wollen, wie man sie in der Gegenwart hat, ist eine Unmöglichkeit. Man versteht schon nicht einmal Aristoteles. Und wer etwas genauer die Diskussionen kennt, welche über die aristotelische Philosophie in der neueren Zeit gepflogen worden sind, der weiß, wie durch das Hin- und Herschreiben der Begriffe und Vorstellungen, die sich noch bei Aristoteles finden, unzählige Ungeklärtheiten entstanden sind, einfach weil man nicht berücksichtigt hat, daß in dem Augenblicke, wo man sich zum Beispiel zu Plato, der der Lehrer des Aristoteles war, zurückwendet, man schon eine ganz andere Geisteskonfiguration haben muß. Dann, wenn man von Plato vorwärtsschreitend an Aristoteles herantritt, dann wird man auch sehen, wie man die Logik des Aristoteles anders beurteilt, als wenn man sie gewissermaßen nur im Rückblick mit demjenigen anschaut, was man heute als Geistesverfassung aus der Kultur der Gegenwart heraus gewinnen kann.
Aristoteles hatte im wesentlichen, auch als er seine Logik aufstellte, die ja schon abstrakt genug ist, die schon genug intellektualisiert ist, Aristoteles hatte noch durchaus wenigstens ein äußeres Wissen, wenn auch nicht eine selbsteigene Anschauung — die wird ja bei Aristoteles wohl sehr spärlich gewesen sein —, aber er hatte noch ein deutliches Wissen, daß man einmal, wenn auch in instinktiver Art, in die geistige Welt hat hineinschauen können. Und für ihn waren die logischen Regeln die letzte Äußerung, wenn ich so sagen darf, von oben, von der geistigen Welt aus. Also für Aristoteles war dasjenige, was er als logische Regeln oder als logische Grundbegriffe festsetzte, gewissermaßen der Schatten, der heruntergeworfen wird aus der geistigen Welt, die für Plato zum Beispiel noch eine gegebene Welt war, eine zu erlebende Welt, eine faktische Welt, eine bewußtseinsfaktische Welt.
Gewöhnlich wird eines nicht gesehen. Es werden nicht gesehen die großen, die gewaltigen Unterschiede, die für die einzelnen Menschheitsepochen bestehen. Wenn Sie die Jahre nehmen, sagen wir, etwa vom Tode des Aristoteles, 322 vor Christo, bis zum Konzil von Nicäa, 325 nach Christi Geburt, so haben Sie einen Zeitraum, dessen Erkenntnis äußerlich allerdings sehr schwierig ist, weil sich die Kirche ja hat angelegen sein lassen, alle Dokumente auszutilgen, die äußerlich ein einigermaßen entsprechendes Bild geben würden von der Seelenverfassung dieser drei vorchristlichen und drei nachchristlichen Jahrhunderte.
Man muß nur bedenken, daß zum Beispiel heute eine große Anzahl von Menschen eben einfach über die Gnosis sprechen. Wie kennen sie die Gnosis? Sie kennen sie aus den Schriften der Gegner. Mit Ausnahme ganz weniger und außerordentlich wenig charakteristischer gnostischer Schriften ist ja alles Gnostische ausgetilgt worden, und man hat nur dasjenige, was als Zitate eingefügt worden ist in gegnerische Schriften, in Schriften, die dazu bestimmt waren, die Gnosis zu widerlegen. Man hat ungefähr die Gnosis so, wie man die Anthroposophie haben würde, wenn man sie aus den Schriften des Pfarrers Kully kennenlernen würde; so hat man da die Gnosis. Und dennoch reden die Menschen aus dieser äußerlichen Erkenntnis über die Gnosis.
Nun war aber diese Gnosis ein wesentliches Element alles dessen, was das reale Geistesleben gerade der Jahrhunderte war, von denen ich gesprochen habe. Wir können heute selbstverständlich uns nicht etwa wiederum zur Gnosis zurückwenden. Aber diese Gnosis bildete namentlich für die europäische Entwickelung in dem genannten Zeitraume etwas außerordentlich Wichtiges.
Wie könnte man diese Gnosis eigentlich charakterisieren? So etwa, wie man im 4. nachchristlichen Jahrhundert von der Gnosis hat sprechen können, so hätte man natürlich, sagen wir, ein halbes Jahrtausend vorher nicht sprechen können. Denn ein halbes Jahrtausend vorher waren noch instinktive alte Schauungen da, Erkenntnisse der übersinnlichen Welt, und man mußte von diesen Erkenntnissen der übersinnlichen Welt so sprechen, daß man sie beschrieb. Man hatte gewissermaßen immer im Hintergrunde einer solchen Beschreibung die reale geistige Welt, die bewußtseinspräsent war. Das hörte auf.
Aristoteles zum Beispiel ist gerade dadurch charakterisiert, daß für ihn diese Welt völlig nur noch eine Tradition war. Vielleicht hat er, wie ich schon sagte, einiges davon gewußt, aber im wesentlichen war sie für ihn Tradition. Aber das, was aus diesen geistigen Welten heraus an Timbre die Begriffe gehabt haben, das war noch vorhanden, und das ging eigentlich erst zugrunde im 3.,4.nachchristlichen Jahrhundert.
Augustinus hatte nichts mehr von der Gnosis. Da war sie bereits verschwunden. Die Gnosis ist also wesentlich, sagen wir, der abstrakte Bodensatz einer früher spirituellen Erkenntnis, der abstrakte Bodensatz, die bloßen Begriffe. Es waren Abstraktionen, die da lebten. Man kann sie schon bei Philo als Abstraktionen erkennen. Man kann sie auch bei den eigentlichen Gnostikern als Abstraktionen erkennen. Aber es waren Abstraktionen von einer einmal geschauten geistigen Welt. Für die Leute des 4. nachchristlichen Jahrhunderts lag die Sache schon so, daß sie überhaupt nichts mehr anzufangen wußten mit den Begriffen, die der Inhalt der Gnosis waren. Daher jener im Grunde genommen ganz und gar nicht auf eine Formel zu bringende Streit zwischen dem Arianismus und Athanasianismus. Nicht wahr, wie da gestritten, diskutiert worden ist, ob der Sohn gleicher Natur und Wesenheit mit dem Vater oder verschiedener Natur und Wesenheit mit dem Vater ist, das bewegt sich auf einem Gebiete, wo man schon den eigentlichen Inhalt der alten Begriffe verloren hatte. Man diskutierte gewissermaßen nur mehr mit Worten, nicht mehr mit den Vorstellungen.
Das war der Übergang dazu, den reinen Intellektualismus immer mehr und mehr auszubilden, der dann eben in der Mitte des 15. Jahrhunderts an die abendländische Menschheit herankam. Als dann dieser Intellektualismus auftauchte, da war die Logik etwas ganz anderes, als sie bei Aristoteles war. Bei Aristoteles war Logik gewissermaßen der Bodensatz spiritueller Erkenntnisse. Er hatte dasjenige gesammelt, was die Leute früher erfahren hatten aus der geistigen Welt heraus. Davon war nun jedes Bewußtsein verschwunden, und es war nur noch vorhanden das intellektuelle Element selber, das intellektuelle Element, das jetzt aber nicht sich als ein Bodensatz spiritueller Welten ausnahm, sondern als eine Abstraktion aus der Sinneswelt. Man nahm gewissermaßen dasjenige, was bei Aristoteles ein Ergebnis der Welten von oben war (rot), als Abstraktion der Welten von unten (blau). Und mit dieser Intellektualität gingen jetzt im wesentlichen die Menschen wie Kopernikus, Galilei, Kepler heran — Kepler hatte allerdings noch einige Intuitionen - und versuchten dasjenige anzuwenden, dessen spiritueller Ursprung verlorengegangen war; sie versuchten es anzuwenden auf die äußere natürliche Welt, auf die bloß natürliche Welt. So daß man sagen kann: Die Entwickelung vom 4. nachchristlichen Jahrhundert bis in die Mitte des 15. Jahrhunderts ist im wesentlichen eine Art Schwangergehen der zivilisierten Menschheit mit dem nur von unten kommenden Intellektualismus, der dann voll herauskommt im 15. Jahrhundert und sich dann immer mehr und mehr in der Anwendung des Verstandes auf die äußere Naturbeobachtung festlegt, bis er im 19. Jahrhundert seinen Höhepunkt in dieser Beziehung erlangt hat.

Nun, wenn Sie alles das nehmen, was ich gestern gesagt habe über Ichsinn, Gedankensinn, Wortesinn und so weiter, so werden Sie sich sagen: So, wie wir diese Sinne jetzt haben, wie wir das Ergebnis dieser Sinne jetzt erleben im gewöhnlichen menschlichen Bewußtsein, haben wir es ja im Grunde genommen nur mit Bildern zu tun, sonst könnten ja gar nicht fortwährend jene Diskussionen sich ergeben, die aus den Eigentümlichkeiten der gegenwärtigen Zeit heraus sich ergeben müssen. Ein wirkliches Verstehen des eigentlichen Seelenlebens ist ja im Grunde genommen zunächst verlorengegangen. Ein empirischer Beweis dafür ist, wie ich Ihnen öfter vorgeführt habe, die Art und Weise, wie Brentano gescheitert ist in dem Abfassen einer Psychologie, einer Seelenlehre, was er redlich vorgehabt hat. Die andern verfassen natürlich Seelenlehren, weil sie weniger redlich sind, weniger ehrlich sind; aber er wollte ganz ehrlich eine Seelenlehre mit Gehalt verfassen, und er kam zu keinem Gehalt, weil der Inhalt nur aus Geisteswissenschaft hätte kommen können, die er ablehnte. Daher blieb es bei dem Torso, indem er weniger von dem brachte, als er eigentlich bringen wollte. Es ist dieses ein tief bedeutsames historisches Faktum, dieses Scheitern des Brentano mit seiner Psychologie. Denn all das Jonglieren mit allerlei Begriffen und Vorstellungen, das heute unsere psychologische Wissenschaft ausführt, war natürlich für Brentano etwas Leeres.
Nun, dasjenige aber, was da Seelenleben ist als Ergebnis der sechs oberen Sinne, des Ichsinnes bis zum Sehsinn, alles das war einmal mit spirituellem Leben erfüllt. Und wir blicken zurück in alte Zeiten in Europa bis zu Plato; da war mit Spiritualität erfüllt, was nun immer leerer und leerer an Spiritualität wurde, was immer intellektualistischer und immer intellektualistischer wurde. Und wir kommen da auf der einen Seite zu alldem, was der Menschheit gewissermaßen in ihrer Entwickelung in der älteren Zeit gegeben war, in der Zeit, in der das Morgenland in bezug auf die menschliche Zivilisation der Erde tonangebend war. Da hatte man eine Zivilisation, die gegeben war diesem Seelenleben, diesem eigentlichen Seelenleben. So daß wir sagen können:

Alle diese Sinne liefern Ergebnisse, die, wenn im Inneren der Seele spirituelles Leben ist, diesem spirituellen Leben Nahrung geben. Und was da die Menschheit entwickelt hat, das hat sie entwickelt in der alten orientalischen Kultur. Und Sie verstehen sie am besten, diese orientalische Kultur in ihrer Gesamtheit, wenn Sie sie so verstehen, wie ich es eben jetzt dargelegt habe.
Aber das ist gewissermaßen in dem Untergrund der Entwickelung der Zivilisation herangezogen. Das Seelenleben wurde zunächst - und das begann eben, wie gesagt, im 4. vorchristlichen Jahrhundert - entspiritualisiert, intellektualisiert. Die Abfassung der abstrakten Logik des Aristoteles war der erste Merkstein dieser Entspiritualisierung des menschlichen Seelenlebens, das Ausbilden der Gnosis das vollständige Hinunterdrängen dieses Seelenlebens. Nun bleibt der andere Mensch:

Und es begann nun eine Zivilisation, die sich im wesentlichen auf diese Sinne stützte. Wenn sie das auch zunächst nicht zugibt, sie stützt sich auf diese Sinne. Denn nehmen Sie jenen Wissenschaftsgeist, der heraufkam, der überall Mathematik anwenden will. Mathematik kommt, wie ich gestern charakterisierte, aber aus Bewegungs- und Gleichgewichtssinn. Also selbst dasjenige, das am geistigsten vorbringt unsere moderne Wissenschaftlichkeit, das kommt vom unteren Menschen. Insbesondere aber wird mit dem Tastsinn gearbeitet, denn es werden ja sogar die andern Sinne dadurch charakterisiert, daß man ihnen überall eigentlich die Eigenschaften des Tastsinnes zugrunde legt. Sie können da heute interessante Studien machen, wenn Sie in das physiologische Gebiet eindringen.
Gewiß, die Leute reden zum Beispiel vom Sehen oder vom Auge oder vom Sehsinn; aber für denjenigen, der die Dinge durchschaut, sind alle die Begriffe, die angewendet werden, eigentlich aus dem Tastsinn in den Sehsinn hereingeschwindelt. Es wird mit Dingen, die dem Tastsinn entlehnt sind, gearbeitet. Die werden hineingeschwindelt. Die Leute bemerken das nicht; aber sie charakterisieren den Sehsinn, indem sie die Kategorien, die Vorstellungen, mit denen man den Tastsinn begreifen kann, auf das Sehen anwenden. Was man heute in der Wissenschaft Sehen nennt, ist eigentlich nur ein etwas komplizierteres Tasten. Zuweilen werden dann Kategorien, Begriffe wie Schmecken, Riechen, zu Hilfe genommen und so weiter. Auf dasjenige, was unseren heutigen Vorstellungen besonders zugrunde liegt, die Art und Weise, wie wir äußere Erscheinungen zusammenfassen, auf das können wir durchaus auch in demselben Sinne hindeuten; denn das ist heute schon ein Ergebnis der äußeren Anatomie und Physiologie, wenigstens eine gut begründete Hypothese, daß eigentlich unser heutiges Denken in einer Metamorphose des Geruchssinnes wurzelt, insofern das Denken gebunden ist an das Gehirn, also gar nicht an die höheren Sinne, sondern an eine Metamorphose des Geruchssinnes. Diese eigentümliche Art, wie wir uns im Begreifen zu der Außenwelt verhalten, die ganz verschieden ist von dem, wie sich etwa Plato zu der Außenwelt verhalten hat, das ist nicht etwa ein Ergebnis der höheren Sinne, das ist ein Ergebnis des Geruchssinnes, wenn ich mich etwas trivial ausdrücken darf. Ich möchte sagen, wir haben unsere Vollendung als Menschen heute nicht dadurch, daß wir die höheren Sinne ausgebildet haben, sondern eben dadurch, daß wir uns eine etwas umgestaltete, eine metamorphosierte, verfeinerte Hundeschnauze angeschafft haben. Die besondere Art, zur Außenwelt sich zu verhalten, ist eben eine ganz andere als diejenige, die einem spirituellen Zeitalter entspricht.
Nun, wenn das, was sich zunächst in alten Zeiten durch die höheren Sinne der Menschheit geoffenbart hat, als orientalische Kultur bezeichnet werden muß, so muß dasjenige, in dem wir drinnen leben und das ich eben charakterisiert habe, als das Wesentliche der okzidentalischen Kultur angesehen werden. Diese okzidentalische Kultur ist im wesentlichen aus dem unteren Menschen herausgeholt.
Bei solchen Dingen, wie ich sie jetzt ausspreche, muß ich immer wieder und wiederum betonen: Es handelt sich dabei wirklich nicht um Wertungen, sondern um historische Verläufe. Ich will durchaus nicht andeuten mit dem oberen und unteren, daß das eine wertvoll, das andere weniger wertvoll wäre. Das eine ist eben ein Versenken in die Welt, das andere ist ein Nichtversenken in die Welt. Und es hilft nichts, wenn man da irgendwelche Sympathien und Antipathien einmischt. Man kommt eben dann nicht zu einer objektiven Erkenntnis. Wer festhalten will, was in der Vedenkultur, in der Vedantakultur, in der Jogakultur enthalten ist, der muß von einem Verständnis dieser Dinge auf diesem Wege ausgehen (siehe Aufstellung Seite 33, oberer Mensch). Und wer verstehen will, was sich eigentlich erst im Anfange befindet, was immer mehr und mehr ausgebildet werden muß für gewisse Arten des menschlichen Verhaltens, was allerdings im 19. Jahrhundert schon einen gewissen Höhepunkt erlangt hat, der muß wissen, daß da der untere Mensch besonders heraus will, und daß dieses Herauskommen des unteren Menschen ganz besonders der anglo-amerikanischen Natur eigen ist, der okzidentalischen, der westländischen Kultur.
Ein besonders charakteristischer Geist für das Heraufkommen dieser Kultur ist ja Bacon, Baco von Verulam, der deshalb ganz besonders charakteristisch ist, weil er in dem, sagen wir, was er in seinem «Novum organon» behauptet, eigentlich sehr leichtgeschürzte Behauptungen aufstellt, Dinge sagt, die im Grunde genommen nur für Oberflächlinge irgend etwas Wesentliches bedeuten können. Und dennoch sind sie außerordentlich charakteristisch. Bacon ist ja sowohl unwissend wie töricht in gewisser Beziehung und oberflächlich, außerordentlich oberflächlich. Unwissend ist er, denn sobald er über ältere Kulturen spricht, redet er Unsinn, weiß nichts davon. Oberflächlich ist er, weil man ihm das aus seinen Schriften nachweisen kann. Da, wo er zum Beispiel über die Wärme spricht - er ist ein Empiriker -, da stellt er alles das zusammen, was man über Wärme sagen kann; aber man sieht, er hat alle diese Notizen aus den Experimentenbüchern. Was er sich über die Wärme zusammengestellt hat, hat er nicht selber zusammengestellt, sondern von einem Schreiber zusammenklauben lassen, denn es ist eine ungeheuer gehudelte Arbeit. Trotzdem, er ist ein Markstein in der neueren Entwickelung. Man möchte sagen, es kann einem seine Persönlichkeit ganz gleichgültig sein, aber durch all das Gehudle und durch all den Nonsens, den er vielfach sagt, drückt sich immer etwas durch, was besonders charakteristisch ist für das Heraufkommen eben einer solchen Kultur, die dem entspricht, was ich hier charakterisiert habe (Seite 34). Und es ist unmöglich, daß die Menschheit aus der Misere, in der sie gegenwärtig lebt, herauskommen kann, wenn sie nicht begreift, daß zwar, aus Gründen, die ja aus den bisherigen Vorträgen genugsam ersichtlich sein können, sich leben ließ mit der Kultur des oberen Menschen, daß sich aber nicht wird leben lassen mit der Kultur des unteren Menschen. Denn schließlich bringt der Mensch sich dennoch bei jeder neuen Inkarnation seine Seele mit, die unbewußte Reminiszenzen hat aus früheren Erdenleben. Der Mensch wird immer wiederum zu dem Abgelebten hingedrängt. Heute weiß er es vielfach nicht, wozu er da hingedrängt wird. Es besteht dieses Hindrängen in einer ganz unbestimmten Sehnsucht, in etwas Undefinierbarem vielfach, aber es ist da. Und es ist vor allen Dingen dadurch da, daß man langsam dasjenige, was diesem Gebiete angehört (Seite 34, unterer Mensch), indem es in Gesetzmäßigkeiten gefaßt wird, als etwas Objektives gelten läßt. Alles das, was eigentlich mehr traditionell vorhanden ist und diesem Gebiete angehört (Seite 33, oberer Mensch), das hat sich verflüchtigt in bezug auf seinen Seinscharakter in den Glauben, und man versucht es noch festzuhalten, indem man sich geniert, diesem, was da der Seele angehört mit dem moralischen Inhalt, Seinscharakter beizulegen und ihm eigentlich in bezug auf seine Erkenntnis nur eine Glaubensgewißheit zugesteht.
Aber es ist nicht möglich für die Menschheit, mit diesem Zwiespalt in der Seele weiterzuleben in der Gegenwart. Man kann sich noch einreden, es müsse der evangelische Gegensatz von Glauben und Wissen, der insbesondere in den evangelischen Konfessionen konstruiert ist, theoretisch vertreten werden. Theoretisch vertreten kann man es, aber man kann es nicht für das Leben anwenden, man kann nicht leben damit. Das menschliche Leben selber widerspricht dem Aufrichten eines solchen Gegensatzes. Es muß der Weg gefunden werden, das Moralische anzugleichen demjenigen, dem man ein Sein zugesteht, sonst wird man immer dahin kommen, sich zu sagen: Aus den bloßen Naturnotwendigkeiten macht man sich Vorstellungen über den Erdenanfang und über das Erdenende; aber was dann werden soll, wenn dieses naturwissenschaftlich beurteilte Erdenende da ist, mit dem, weswegen wir uns eigentlich einen menschlichen Wert beilegen, mit dem, was der Mensch innerlich moralisch sich als Wert aneignet, was da werden soll, wie das gerettet werden soll aus der untergehenden Erde hinaus in andere Welten, darüber will man sich nur einer Glaubensgewißheit hingeben.
Und interessant ist es, wie gerade von diesem Gesichtspunkte aus zum Beispiel Anthroposophie bekämpft wird. Dieses Bekämpfen darf ich schon aus dem Grunde erwähnen, weil es typisch ist, weil es nicht von einem ausgeht, sondern von einer ganzen Anzahl von Leuten. Sie finden, daß Anthroposophie Anspruch darauf macht, Inhalt zu haben, der Erkenntnisinhalt ist, also behandelt werden kann so, wie zum Beispiel der naturwissenschaftliche Erkenntnisinhalt. Tröpfe sagen natürlich, er entspricht nicht dem naturwissenschaftlichen Erkenntnisinhalt, er ist etwas anderes — nun, das ist eine Selbstverständlichkeit, die man nicht besonders zu erwähnen braucht -, aber er kann so behandelt werden, wie der naturwissenschaftliche Erkenntnisinhalt. Manche sagen auch, man kann ihn nicht beweisen. Die haben sich eben niemals mit der logischen Natur des Beweisens bekanntgemacht. Aber um was es sich handelt, ist, daß gesagt wird: Diejenigen Dinge, von denen Anthroposophie handelt, die dürfen überhaupt nicht Gegenstand einer Erkenntnis werden, denn es würde ihnen ihr wesentlicher Charakter genommen, wenn sie Gegenstand einer Erkenntnis werden würden; sie müssen Gegenstand einer Glaubensgewißheit sein. Denn nur dadurch, daß man nichts weiß von Gott, von einem unsterblichen Leben, sondern nur glaubt an diese Dinge, darauf beruht der Wert dieser Dinge. Und es wird geradezu zum Vorwurf gemacht, daß in der Anthroposophie ein Wissen von diesen Dingen angestrebt wird, ja, es wird dieses Wissen sogar von dem Gesichtspunkte aus angefochten, daß man sagt: Es wird ja da der religiöse Charakter dieser Wahrheiten untergraben, denn der religiöse Charakter beruht darauf, daß man eben irgend etwas glaubt, worüber man nichts weiß. Das Vertrauen drücke sich gerade dadurch aus, daß man nichts davon wisse. — Ich möchte zwar wissen, wie die Menschen im gewöhnlichen Leben mit einem solchen Vertrauensbegriff auskommen würden! Man müßte also das gleiche Vertrauen haben zu denjenigen, von denen man gar nichts weiß, wie zu denen, von denen man etwas weiß. Man dürfte also zu den göttlichgeistigen Wesen kein Vertrauen haben, wenn man sie kennenlernt. Also es müßte gerade der religiöse Charakter darin bestehen, daß man sie nicht kennt, denn es ist die Heiligkeit der religiösen Dinge angetastet, wenn man sie zur Erkenntnis macht.
Ja, die Sache ist schon so: Läßt man sich ein wenig ein auf die Begriffsschwätzereien, die da vorkommen, dann wird man sehen, daß in dem, was von Woche zu Woche gedruckt wird, im Grunde genommen solche Dinge sich darinnen finden, die einfach in Unsinn ausarten, wenn man sie auf ihre ursprünglichen, elementaren Bestandteile bringt. Man darf heute über solche Dinge nicht hinwegschauen — es muß das immer wieder erwähnt werden, und wenn ich mich auch mit solchen Dingen wiederhole, ich scheue solche Wiederholungen nicht —, man muß auf solche Dinge sehen. Man muß zum Beispiel sich sagen können: Wenn sich heute eine angesehene Zeitung in Württemberg von einem Universitätsprofessor einen Aufsatz über Anthroposophie schreiben läßt, und der schreibt dann: Ja, diese Anthroposophie, die behauptet, daß es eine geistige Welt gäbe, in der sich die geistigen Wesenheiten bewegen wie Tische und Stühle im physischen Raum - ja, wenn ein Universitätsdozent heute in der Lage ist, einen solchen Satz hinzuschreiben, so ist er unmöglich, so müßte eigentlich alles angewendet werden, um ihn unschädlich zu machen, denn Unsinn darf nicht an verantwortlicher Stelle geschrieben werden. Nur wenn jemand betrunken ist, bewegen sich für ihn — aber auch nur subjektiv — Tische und Stühle. Und da der Professor Traub weder die Hypothese zulassen wird, daß er seinen maßgeblich autoritativen Artikel in betrunkenem Zustand geschrieben hat, noch auch, daß er Spiritist ist - denn für Spiritisten bewegen sich ja auch Tische und Stühle, wenn auch nicht ganz von selber -, so hat man das volle Recht zu sagen: Hier wird in gedankenlosester Weise Unsinn hingeschrieben. Und wer imstande ist, einmal solchen Unsinn hinzuschreiben, dessen ganze Wissenschaft verdient keinen Glauben.
Heute ist es notwendig, in diesen Dingen sich absoluteste Strenge zur Pflicht zu machen. Und wir kommen immer tiefer hinein in die Niedergangskräfte, wenn diese absoluteste Strenge nicht zur Pflicht gemacht wird. In dieser Beziehung wird eben heute das Unglaublichste erlebt, und das Unglaublichste geht durch, indem man immer wieder Entschuldigungsgründe über Entschuldigungsgründe hat für das, was von angeblich autoritativer Seite an Abgefeimtheiten in solchen Dingen verbrochen wird. Es ist eben durchaus heute notwendig, daß darauf gehalten werde, zu klaren, inhaltsvollen Begriffen zu kommen auf allen Gebieten. Und kommt man zu klaren, inhaltsvollen Begriffen, dann ist die Theorie von der Trennung von Wissen und Glauben eben nicht zu halten. Denn dann müßte sie zurückgeführt werden auf dasjenige, worauf ich sie eben jetzt zurückgeführt habe.
Aber auch diese Trennung zwischen Wissen und Glauben ist nur historisch bedingt. Sie ist zum Teil historisch bedingt aus dem, was ich schon angeführt habe, oder aber historisch bedingt noch aus anderem. Vor allen Dingen kommt für diese Sache folgendes in Betracht. Wir haben zum Beispiel innerhalb des abendländischen Christentums zunächst dasjenige, was in den ersten Jahrhunderten des Christentums durch die Verschmelzung der Gnosis mit der monotheistischen Evangelienlehre zustande gekommen ist, und wir haben Verschmelzung des Christentums mit dem, was auf diese Weise zustande gekommen ist in der Zeit der Scholastik - allerdings auf eine sehr geistvolle Weise, aber doch eben als eine bloße historische Reminiszenz — mit dem Aristotelismus. Und es ist eine durchaus aristotelische Lehre die Lehre von der gleichmäßigen Entstehung des menschlichen Leibes und der menschlichen Seele durch die Geburt oder sagen wir Konzeption eines Menschen. Mit dem Abstreifen der alten Spiritualität, mit dem Heraufdringen der bloßen Intellektualität wurde schon von Aristoteles abgestreift die Präexistenzanschauung, die Anschauung von dem Leben der Menschenseele vor der Geburt, vor der Konzeption. Dieses Leugnen der Präexistenzlehre ist nicht christlich, sondern es ist aristotelisch. Zur dogmatischen Fessel wurde im Grunde genommen diese Bekämpfung der Präexistenzlehre erst durch die Aufnahme des Aristotelismus in die christliche Theologie.
Nun aber entsteht hier eine bedeutungsvolle Frage, eine Frage, für deren Beantwortung ein wenig schon die Elemente in den Vorträgen, die ich hier in den letzten Wochen gehalten habe, vorhanden sind. Wenn Sie sich an manches erinnern, was ich da in den letzten Wochen gesagt habe, so werden Sie sich sagen: In einem gewissen Sinne — so habe ich es immer betont — ist ja der Materialismus des 19. Jahrhunderts nicht ganz unbegründet gewesen. Warum? Weil dasjenige, was uns im Menschen zum Beispiel entgegentritt, insofern der Mensch ein physisch-materiell organisiertes Wesen ist, Abbild ist der geistigen Entwickelung seit dem letzten Tode. Das ist in der Tat nicht das rein Geistig-Seelische, es ist das Physisch-Seelische, es ist Abbild, was sich da entwickelt zwischen Geburt und Tod. Aus dem, was da der Mensch durchlebt zwischen Geburt und Tod, ist in der Tat niemals eine Möglichkeit zu gewinnen für eine wissenschaftliche Anschauung eines Postmortem-Lebens. Es gibt nichts, was einen möglichen Unsterblichkeitsbeweis liefert, wenn man bloß das Leben des Menschen zwischen der Geburt und dem Tode ins Auge faßt.
Nun faßt aber zunächst das traditionelle Christentum vom Menschen nur dieses Leben zwischen der Geburt und dem Tod ins Auge, denn es läßt ja auch die Seele geschaffen werden mit der Geburt oder Konzeption. Daraus ist kein Wissen zu gewinnen über das Postmortem-Leben. Will man nicht gelten lassen das präexistente Leben, über das, wie Sie wissen, ein Wissen zu gewinnen ist, dann kann man niemals ein Wissen gewinnen über das Leben nach dem Tode. Daher also die Spaltung zwischen Wissen und Glauben mit Bezug auf die Unsterblichkeitsfrage, zum Beispiel aus dem Dogma von der Bekämpfung des vorgeburtlichen Lebens. Weil man fallenlassen wollte die Erkenntnis von dem vorgeburtlichen Leben, ergab sich die Notwendigkeit, eine besondere Glaubensgewißheit zu statuieren. Denn will man dann, wenn man das vorgeburtliche Leben bekämpft, noch von einem Leben nach dem Tode sprechen, dann kann man nicht von einer wissenschaftlichen Erkenntnis darüber sprechen.
Sie sehen, wie systematisch geordnet, möchte ich sagen, dieses Dogmengefüge ist. Es handelt sich darum, innerhalb der Menschheit Finsternis zu verbreiten über die geistige Wissenschaft. Wie kann man das? Man bekämpft auf der einen Seite die Präexistenzlehre; dann gibt es kein Wissen über das nachtodliche Leben, dann muß das nachtodliche Leben von dem Menschen auf Grundlage der Dogmatik geglaubt werden. Man erkämpft sich den Glauben an die Dogmatik, indem man bekämpft die Erkenntnis des vorgeburtlichen Lebens.
Oh, es ist außerordentlich viel Systematik darinnen, wie die Dogmatik seit dem 4. nachchristlichen Jahrhundert sich entwickelt hat, wie sich aus dieser Dogmatik restlos die modernen wissenschaftlichen Anschauungen herausentwickelt haben. Denn sie sind alle ihrem Ursprunge nach darinnen nachzuweisen, nur angewendet auf die äußere Naturbeobachtung, und es ist nachzuweisen, wie dadurch vorbereitet worden ist des Menschen Sich-Anhängen an ein bloßes Glauben. Weil der Mensch natürlich etwas über die Unsterblichkeit will, nimmt man ihm das Wissen, und das hat man ihm genommen: dann ist er für den dogmatischen Glauben zugänglich, dann kann der dogmatische Glaube sich seine Herrschaftsbereiche aussuchen.
Das ist zugleich eine soziale Frage, das ist eine Frage der menschheitlichen Entwickelung, das ist eine Frage, der heute mit voller Klarheit ins Auge geschaut werden muß. Und diese Frage entscheidet erstens über den Wert der gegenwärtigen Kultur, namentlich aber auch über den Wert des gegenwärtigen Wissenschaftsgeistes, und dann über die Aussichten der Menschheit, wiederum zu Aufgangskräften, zu Aufsteigekräften zu kommen.
Davon wollen wir dann morgen weitersprechen.

Fifteenth Lecture
Yesterday I attempted to draw a distinction, so to speak, between those sensory experiences that belong, if I may say so, to the higher human being, that constitute the actual soul life of the human being, and those sensory experiences that belong more to a lower human being, whose content, in a sense, stands in relation to human consciousness in a similar way to actual external experiences, except that they take place within the human being. We have seen that the sensory experiences of the former type include those of the ego sense, the sense of thought, the sense of speech, the sense of hearing, the sense of warmth, and the sense of sight, and we have seen that we enter two regions in which human beings essentially have inner experiences similar to outer experiences in consciousness, in that we have the sense of taste, the sense of smell, and the other senses that are actually inner senses. You can already see, when talking about such a subject, how difficult it is to use those coarser expressions, which are quite applicable to the characteristics of the external world, but which of course immediately fail when one considers the human being itself and the inner structure of the world.
In any case, however, anyone who clearly understands this difference between the upper and lower human beings, both of which represent world events in a certain way, will also realize how our experience is divided, how we contrast the one pole of our experience with the other pole in a completely different way. Without conscientiously studying this division of the human being, it will not be possible to gain sufficient clarity about the most important problem of the present and the near future, namely the problem: What is the actual relationship between the moral world in which we live with our higher human nature, in which our human and world responsibility exists, and the world in which we are now also caught up, the world of natural necessity?
We know that in recent centuries, since the middle of the 15th century, human progress has been based primarily on the development of ideas relating to natural necessity. During these centuries, humanity has paid less attention to the other realm of human experience, the realm of the moral world order. Today, it is clear to anyone who understands the signs of the times and is familiar with the great tasks of our age that there is a deep divide between what is called moral necessity and what is called natural necessity.
This gap has opened up in such a way that a large number of people who believe themselves to be fully immersed in today's intellectual life make a distinction between a certain area of experience that can be encompassed by knowledge and cognition, and another area of experience that can only be encompassed by faith. And you know that certain circles consider only that to be truly scientific which can be reduced to what are called strict natural laws, that they want to establish a different kind of certainty for everything that constitutes moral life, and that they claim for this certainty only a kind of certainty of faith. There are detailed theories about the necessary distinction that must be made between actual scientific certainty and certainty of faith.
All these distinctions, all these theories are basically based on the fact that we have very little historical awareness today, that we take very little account of the conditions under which our present mental contents have come into being. I have often given the classic example of this. I have told you how, for example, philosophers today believe that by distinguishing between the human being as body and soul they are saying something based on some original observation or the like, whereas what people think about the two realms of body and soul is merely the result of a council decision, the council decision of 869, the Eighth Council, which elevated to dogma the doctrine that human beings should not be regarded as consisting of body, soul, and spirit, but only of body and soul, and that the soul should be attributed with certain spiritual qualities.This dogma became increasingly entrenched in the following centuries. The philosophers of the Middle Ages lived by this dogma. And when modern philosophy emerged from medieval philosophy, people believed they were judging from their own experience. But they were only judging according to the habit they had acquired in accordance with what had become a centuries-old custom: to assume that man consists only of body and soul.
This is a classic example of many things in which humanity today finds itself, believing that it has an unbiased judgment, while the judgment that is expressed is nothing more than the result of a historical process. It is not easy to arrive at a truly authoritative judgment other than by surveying ever larger and larger periods of history.
For example, someone who is familiar only with contemporary scientific thinking will naturally consider this to be authoritative and will be unable to imagine that any other kind of knowledge is possible. Someone who, in addition to this contemporary scientific judgment, which has been established since around the middle of the 15th century, still knows a little of what was accepted in the early Middle Ages, going back to the 4th century AD, will judge in much the same way as the better neo-scholastics of the present judge the relationship of man to the intellectual world; but he will by no means be able to form a judgment about anything other than, at most, the relationship of man to intellectuality, but not a judgment about the relationship of man to spirituality. For they do not know that if one goes back, say, beyond Aristotle, who died in 322 BC, one must place oneself in a completely different mental configuration than the one we have today in order to gain any understanding at all of the way people thought at that time. It is impossible to understand Plato, or even Heraclitus or Thales, with the mindset that we have today. We do not even understand Aristotle. And anyone who is familiar with the discussions that have taken place about Aristotelian philosophy in recent times knows how, through the back-and-forth writing of concepts and ideas, which can still be found in Aristotle, have given rise to countless ambiguities, simply because it has not been taken into account that at the moment when one turns back to Plato, for example, who was Aristotle's teacher, one must already have a completely different mental configuration. Then, when one moves forward from Plato to Aristotle, one will also see how Aristotle's logic is judged differently than when one looks at it, as it were, only in retrospect with what one can gain today as a state of mind from contemporary culture.
Aristotle, even when he established his logic, which is already abstract enough and sufficiently intellectualized, still had at least some external knowledge, even if he did not have his own insight — which was probably very sparse in Aristotle's case — but he still had a clear knowledge that one could, albeit instinctively, look into the spiritual world. And for him, the logical rules were the ultimate expression, if I may say so, from above, from the spiritual world. So for Aristotle, what he established as logical rules or logical basic concepts was, in a sense, the shadow cast down from the spiritual world, which for Plato, for example, was still a given world, a world to be experienced, a factual world, a world of consciousness.
One thing is usually overlooked. The great, enormous differences that exist between the individual epochs of human history are not seen. If you take the years, say, from the death of Aristotle in 322 BC to the Council of Nicaea in 325 AD, you have a period of time that is very difficult to comprehend from the outside, because the Church took it upon itself to destroy all documents that would give a reasonably accurate picture of the state of mind of these three pre-Christian and three post-Christian centuries.
One need only consider that today, for example, a large number of people simply talk about Gnosticism. How do they know about Gnosticism? They know it from the writings of its opponents. With the exception of a very few and extremely uncharacteristic Gnostic writings, everything Gnostic has been destroyed, and all that remains are quotations inserted into opposing writings, writings intended to refute Gnosticism. One has Gnosis in much the same way as one would have anthroposophy if one were to learn about it from the writings of Pastor Kully; that is how one has Gnosis. And yet people talk about Gnosis from this external knowledge.
Now, however, this Gnosis was an essential element of everything that constituted the real spiritual life of the centuries I have spoken of. Of course, we cannot turn back to Gnosis today. But this Gnosis was something extraordinarily important, especially for European development during the period I have mentioned.
How might one characterize this gnosis? In the same way that one could speak of gnosis in the fourth century AD, one could not, of course, have spoken in the same way half a millennium earlier. For half a millennium earlier, instinctive ancient visions still existed, insights into the supersensible world, and one had to speak of these insights into the supersensible world in such a way that one described them. In a sense, the real spiritual world, which was present in consciousness, always remained in the background of such a description. That came to an end.
Aristotle, for example, is characterized precisely by the fact that for him this world was now completely just a tradition. Perhaps, as I have already said, he knew something of it, but essentially it was tradition for him. But what the concepts had in terms of timbre from these spiritual worlds was still present, and that did not actually disappear until the 3rd or 4th century AD.
Augustine had nothing left of Gnosticism. It had already disappeared. Gnosticism is therefore essentially, let us say, the abstract residue of a former spiritual knowledge, the abstract residue, the mere concepts. It was abstractions that lived there. They can already be recognized as abstractions in Philo. They can also be recognized as abstractions in the actual Gnostics. But they were abstractions from a spiritual world that had once been seen. For the people of the 4th century AD, the situation was such that they no longer knew what to do with the concepts that were the content of Gnosticism. Hence the dispute between Arianism and Athanasianism, which basically cannot be reduced to a formula. No matter how much they argued and debated whether the Son was of the same nature and essence as the Father or of a different nature and essence from the Father, they were moving in a realm where the actual content of the old concepts had already been lost. In a sense, people were no longer discussing with ideas, but only with words.
This was the transition to the development of pure intellectualism, which then reached Western humanity in the middle of the 15th century. When this intellectualism emerged, logic was something completely different from what it had been with Aristotle. For Aristotle, logic was, in a sense, the residue of spiritual knowledge. He had collected what people had previously experienced from the spiritual world. All consciousness of this had now disappeared, and all that remained was the intellectual element itself, the intellectual element that now, however, did not stand out as the residue of spiritual worlds, but as an abstraction from the sensory world. In a sense, what was in Aristotle a result of the worlds above (red) was taken as an abstraction of the worlds below (blue). And with this intellectuality, people such as Copernicus, Galileo, and Kepler essentially approached the matter—Kepler still had some intuitions, however—and attempted to apply that whose spiritual origin had been lost; they attempted to apply it to the external natural world, to the merely natural world. So that one can say: The development from the 4th century AD to the middle of the 15th century is essentially a kind of gestation of civilized humanity with the intellectualism coming only from below, which then comes out fully in the 15th century and then becomes more and more fixed in the application of the intellect to the observation of external nature, until it reached its peak in this respect in the 19th century.

Now, if you take everything I said yesterday about the meaning of the I, the meaning of thoughts, the meaning of words, and so on, you will say to yourself: The way we have these senses now, the way we experience the results of these senses in ordinary human consciousness, we are basically only dealing with images, otherwise the discussions that must arise from the peculiarities of the present time could not take place continuously. A real understanding of the actual life of the soul has basically been lost. Empirical proof of this, as I have often shown you, is the way in which Brentano failed in his attempt to write a psychology, a doctrine of the soul, which he had honestly intended to do. Others, of course, write theories of the soul because they are less sincere, less honest; but he wanted to write a theory of the soul with substance, and he came to no substance because the content could only have come from spiritual science, which he rejected. Therefore, it remained a torso, in that he produced less than he actually wanted to produce. This failure of Brentano with his psychology is a deeply significant historical fact. For all the juggling with all kinds of concepts and ideas that our psychological science carries out today was, of course, something empty for Brentano.
Now, however, what constitutes the life of the soul as the result of the six higher senses, from the sense of the ego to the sense of sight, was once filled with spiritual life. And we look back to ancient times in Europe, to Plato; there, what is now becoming increasingly empty of spirituality was filled with spirituality, becoming increasingly intellectual and increasingly intellectual. And on the one hand, we come to everything that was given to humanity, so to speak, in its development in earlier times, in the time when the Orient set the tone for human civilization on Earth. There was a civilization that was given to this soul life, this actual soul life. So we can say:

All these senses provide results which, if there is spiritual life within the soul, nourish this spiritual life. And what humanity developed there, it developed in the ancient Oriental culture. And you will understand this Oriental culture in its entirety best if you understand it as I have just explained.
But this has, in a sense, been drawn from the underground of civilization's development. The soul life was first—and this began, as I said, in the 4th century BC—de-spiritualized, intellectualized. The formulation of Aristotle's abstract logic was the first milestone in this de-spiritualization of the human soul life, and the development of Gnosticism was the complete suppression of this soul life. Now the other human being remains:

And so began a civilization that was essentially based on these senses. Even if it does not admit this at first, it is based on these senses. Take, for example, the spirit of science that emerged, which wants to apply mathematics everywhere. Mathematics, as I characterized yesterday, comes from the senses of movement and balance. So even that which our modern scientific approach presents as most intellectual comes from the lower human being. In particular, however, the sense of touch is used, because even the other senses are characterized by the fact that they are actually based on the properties of the sense of touch. You can do interesting studies today if you delve into the field of physiology.
Certainly, people talk, for example, about seeing or the eye or the sense of sight; but for those who see through things, all the terms that are used are actually smuggled into the sense of sight from the sense of touch. Things borrowed from the sense of touch are used. They are smuggled in. People do not notice this, but they characterize the sense of sight by applying to sight the categories, the ideas with which one can comprehend the sense of touch. What we call seeing in science today is actually just a somewhat more complicated form of touching. Sometimes categories and concepts such as tasting and smelling are used to help us understand it. We can also point to what particularly underlies our present ideas, the way we summarize external appearances, in the same sense; for it is already a result of external anatomy and physiology, or at least a well-founded hypothesis, that our present thinking is rooted in a metamorphosis of the sense of smell, insofar as thinking is bound to the brain, not to the higher senses, but to a metamorphosis of the sense of smell. This peculiar way in which we relate to the external world in our understanding, which is completely different from the way Plato, for example, related to the external world, is not a result of the higher senses, but a result of the sense of smell, if I may express myself somewhat trivially. I would say that we have not achieved our perfection as human beings today by developing our higher senses, but precisely by acquiring a somewhat transformed, metamorphosed, refined dog's snout. The special way of relating to the outside world is quite different from that which corresponds to a spiritual age.
Now, if what was initially revealed in ancient times through the higher senses of humanity must be called Oriental culture, then what we live in and what I have just characterized must be regarded as the essence of Western culture. This Western culture is essentially drawn from the lower human being.
When I say things like this, I must emphasize again and again that these are not value judgments, but historical developments. I do not mean to imply that one is valuable and the other less valuable. One is simply an immersion in the world, the other is a non-immersion in the world. And it does not help to mix in any sympathies or antipathies. Then one cannot arrive at an objective understanding. Anyone who wants to grasp what is contained in the Vedic culture, in the Vedanta culture, in the yoga culture, must start from an understanding of these things in this way (see list on page 33, upper human being). And anyone who wants to understand what is actually only in its infancy, what must be developed more and more for certain types of human behavior, which, however, already reached a certain peak in the 19th century, must know that the lower human being particularly wants to come out, and that this emergence of the lower human being is particularly characteristic of the Anglo-American nature, of Western culture.
A particularly characteristic spirit for the emergence of this culture is Bacon, Bacon of Verulam, who is particularly characteristic because, in what he asserts in his “Novum organon,” he actually makes very facile assertions, says things that, in essence, can only mean something significant to superficial people. And yet they are extremely characteristic. Bacon is both ignorant and foolish in a certain respect, and superficial, extremely superficial. He is ignorant because as soon as he talks about older cultures, he talks nonsense and knows nothing about them. He is superficial because this can be proven from his writings. When he talks about heat, for example—he is an empiricist—he puts together everything that can be said about heat, but you can see that he has taken all these notes from experiment books. What he has compiled about heat, he did not compile himself, but had a writer cobble together, because it is an incredibly sloppy piece of work. Nevertheless, he is a milestone in recent development. One might say that his personality is completely irrelevant, but through all the muddle and nonsense he often expresses, something always comes through that is particularly characteristic of the emergence of precisely such a culture, which corresponds to what I have characterized here (page 34). And it is impossible for humanity to emerge from the misery in which it currently lives unless it understands that, for reasons that are sufficiently apparent from the previous lectures, it was possible to live with the culture of the higher human being, but that it will not be possible to live with the culture of the lower human being. For ultimately, with every new incarnation, man brings with him his soul, which has unconscious reminiscences from previous earthly lives. Man is always drawn back to what has died. Today, he is often unaware of what it is that draws him back. This urge consists of a very vague longing, often for something indefinable, but it is there. And it is there above all because we slowly come to regard as something objective that which belongs to this realm (page 34, lower human being) by grasping it in laws. Everything that actually exists more traditionally and belongs to this realm (page 33, upper human being) has evaporated in terms of its character of being into belief, and people try to hold on to it by being embarrassed to attribute to what belongs to the soul, with its moral content, and in relation to its knowledge, only grants it a certainty of faith.
But it is not possible for humanity to continue living in the present with this conflict in its soul. One can still convince oneself that the Protestant opposition between faith and knowledge, which is particularly constructed in the Protestant denominations, must be theoretically defended. It can be defended theoretically, but it cannot be applied to life; one cannot live with it. Human life itself contradicts the establishment of such a contradiction. A way must be found to reconcile morality with that which is granted existence, otherwise we will always end up saying: From mere natural necessities, we form ideas about the beginning and end of the earth; but what will become of what we actually consider to be human value when this scientifically assessed end of the earth arrives? with what human beings inwardly appropriate as moral value, what is to become, how it is to be saved from the perishing earth into other worlds, about that one wants to surrender oneself only to a certainty of faith.
And it is interesting how, from this point of view in particular, anthroposophy is opposed. I mention this opposition because it is typical, because it does not come from one person but from a whole group of people. They believe that anthroposophy claims to have content that is knowledge and can therefore be treated in the same way as scientific knowledge, for example. Of course, critics say that it does not correspond to scientific knowledge, that it is something else — well, that goes without saying and does not need to be mentioned — but that it can be treated in the same way as scientific knowledge. Some also say that it cannot be proven. They have simply never familiarized themselves with the logical nature of proof. But what is at issue here is that it is said: The things that anthroposophy deals with cannot become objects of knowledge at all, because they would lose their essential character if they became objects of knowledge; they must be objects of religious certainty. For it is only because we know nothing about God or an immortal life, but only believe in these things, that they have value.
You will understand this difference best if you realize how you take in what you experience within yourself when you listen to the words of another person, for example, or when you listen to a sound; what you experience within yourself has no meaning at first, no meaning for itself, no meaning for the external process. What does the bell care that you hear it? There is only a connection between your inner experience and the process taking place in the bell, insofar as you are listening.
You cannot say the same thing when you consider the objective process of tasting, smelling, or even, let's say, touching. There is definitely a world process at work here. You cannot separate what is happening in your organism from what is happening in your soul. In this case, you cannot say, as you can with the bell: What does the bell that is ringing care whether you listen to it! - So you cannot say: What does what is happening on your tongue when you drink vinegar care about what you are experiencing! — You cannot say that, because there is an intimate connection. What is an objective process is one with the subjective process.
The sins committed in this area by modern physiology are almost unheard of, precisely because one actually contrasts a process such as tasting with the soul in a similar way as, say, seeing or hearing. And there are philosophical treatises that speak in general terms about sensory qualities and their relationship to the soul. Locke, even Kant, speak in general terms about a relationship between the sensory external world and human subjectivity, whereas something completely different is at work in everything that is registered by the sense of sight upwards and in everything that is registered by the sense of taste downwards. It is impossible to encompass these two areas with a single doctrine. And since this has been done, it has led to tremendous confusion in epistemology, which, since Hume or Locke, or even earlier, has virtually devastated modern concepts, right up to modern physiology. For one cannot arrive at the nature and essence of processes, and thus also at the essence of man, if one pursues things in this way according to preconceived concepts, without unbiased observation.
We must therefore be clear that, in placing human beings before us in this way, we have, on the one hand, a clearly inward-directed life that human beings live for themselves by simply perceiving and relating to the external world. On the other hand, he also perceives, but with what he perceives he places himself in the world. To put it somewhat radically, in the end one must say that what happens on my tongue when I taste is entirely an objective process within me; in that it takes place within me, it is a world process. Whereas I cannot say that what arises in me as an image through seeing is initially a world process. It could disappear, and the whole world would be as it is. This difference between the higher human being and the lower human being must be firmly established. If it is not established, then it will not be possible to arrive at certain directions.
We have mathematical truths, geometric truths. A superficial view of human beings thinks: Well, human beings take mathematics out of their heads or somewhere else — for ideas are not so definite — but that is not the case. These mathematical concepts come from entirely different realms. And when you consider human beings, you have the realms from which mathematics originates: it is the sense of balance, it is the sense of movement. Mathematical thinking arises from such depths, which we cannot reach with our ordinary soul life. Beneath our ordinary soul life lives that which lifts us up, that which we unfold in mathematical structures. And so we see that mathematics is actually rooted in that which is simultaneously cosmic within us. We are really only subjective with that which lies above us, accessible to our sense of sight; with that which lies below us, we are rooted in the world. We are in the world; but with what lies beneath us, we are like a block of wood, just like the rest of the external world. We can therefore never say that, for example, the theory of space could have anything subjective about it, because it springs from that within us in which we ourselves are objective. It is exactly the same space that we traverse when we walk and that our movements convey to us, exactly the same space that we then apply to what we see when we have brought it out of ourselves in the image. Nor can space be said to be something subjective in any way, for it does not arise from the realm from which the subjective arises.Such a view as I have now taken is simply alien to all Kantianism, because Kantianism does not recognize this radical distinction between these two areas of human life. It does not know that space cannot be subjective, because space arises from the area within man that is objective in itself, to which we behave objectively. We are connected to it in a different way than we are to the external world, but it is the external world, the real external world, and above all it becomes the external world every night when we withdraw into sleep with our subjectivity, the ego and the astral body.
It is necessary to realize that it is useless to gather as many external facts as possible into a supposed science, which is then supposed to further promote culture, if there are completely confused concepts within the imagination and understanding of the world, if there are no clear concepts about the most important things. And that is what we now have as an unconditional task before us if we are to counteract the forces of decline and work toward forces of ascent: that we realize how necessary it is, above all, to arrive at clear concepts, not vague ones. One must realize that starting from concepts, starting from definitions, means nothing at all, but rather looking at the facts without prejudice.
No one has the right, for example, to limit the field of vision to something that he then characterizes as a sensory field, unless he at the same time separates, say, the field of word perception as an equally valid field. Just try to divide the realm of all experience as I have done several times, and you will see that you cannot say: We have eyes, therefore we have a sense of sight, and we consider the sense of sight. Instead, you will have to say to yourself: “Certainly, it has something to do with the fact that seeing has such distinctly physical, sensory organs; but that does not justify limiting the realm of the senses to that in which clearly perceptible physical organs are present.” This does not bring us to any higher view, but only to what plays a role in ordinary human life. We come to the important point that we must really distinguish between what is subjective in human beings, what is their inner soul life, and that in which human beings actually sleep. For example, human beings are cosmic beings in relation to everything that their senses convey; in that sense they are cosmic beings. You know nothing of what is going on in your ordinary soul life, at least not without a higher perception, when you move your arm. That is the development of the will. It is a process that lies just as much outside of you as any other external process. Nevertheless, it is intimately connected with you. But it lies outside your soul life. On the other hand, there can be no conception of it without our consciousness being involved. Therefore, when you divide these three areas, you also obtain another one.
In everything that your sense of self, your sense of thought, your sense of words, and your sense of hearing convey to you, in that these conveyances become soul life, you receive, in the most eminent sense, everything that is related to imagination. In exactly the same sense, everything that concerns the sense of warmth, the sense of sight, the sense of taste, and the sense of smell is related to feeling. In some cases, this is not entirely obvious, as with the sense of sight. It is obvious with the senses of taste, smell, and warmth, but those who examine it more closely will also find it with the sense of sight. On the other hand, everything related to the sense of balance, the sense of movement, the sense of life, and also the sense of touch, although this is more difficult to notice because the sense of touch withdraws into the interior, is related to the will. In human life, everything is related to everything else and yet everything is metamorphosed.
So today I have tried to summarize what I have said on various occasions so that we can continue our discussion tomorrow and the day after tomorrow.
