The Younger Generation
GA 217
11 October 1922, Dornach
Lecture IX
From what I said yesterday about the course of historical evolution, you will have gathered that the way in which a human being confronts his fellow men at present was different before the year 333 A.D.
I assume that you are familiar with the soul principles of man according to anthroposophical knowledge. You know that we must differentiate in the soul between what was active in human nature up to the fifteenth century—the so-called intellectual or mind soul—and the consciousness soul which since that time has been principally active in those who have developed to the level of culture to which man has so far advanced.
In describing a particular activity of the soul as that of the intellectual or mind soul, it does not indicate that intellect, in itself, as we understand it today, is a special characteristic of the intellectual or mind soul. The intellectual or mind soul was developed particularly by the Greeks and among them intellect was certainly not what it is today. But you will have been able to gather that from yesterday's lecture.
Among the Greeks, concepts, ideas, were bestowed by the Spirit. But because of this, their intellect was not so cold, so lifeless and dry as ours is today when it is the result of effort. Intellectualism has first arisen through the special development in the consciousness soul. You can only get the right conception of the intellectual or mind soul by transporting yourselves into the mind of a Greek. Then you will certainly discover the difference between the relation of the Greek towards the world and our own. This will be made clearer by our lecture today.
These introductory words serve as a basis to understand that in the centuries preceding the modern age, that is, up to the fifteenth century, human beings met and spoke to one another out of the intellectual or mind soul. Today we face the consciousness soul. But to feel it the developing human being had to reach the turn of the nineteenth century. It has been brought about by circumstances already described. But because of this the problems of life have appeared in an entirely new way. Problems must be regarded in a new way nowadays, otherwise the connecting bridge between consciousness soul and consciousness soul, which means for modern humanity the bridge between one man and another, cannot be found. We are suffering from this at the present time—we cannot find the bridge between human being and human being.
Above all we must ask many of our questions in a new way, in a form that may at first seem grotesque. But it is not meant to be so. Now let us suppose that a three-year-old child were to resolve not to pass through the tedious process of waiting for its second teeth until the seventh year, but this child were to say: It is weary work to go through four more years until I get my second teeth; I will get them at once. (I could use other comparisons which would appear still more grotesque, but this one will suffice,) Such a thing is impossible, isn't it? For there are certain conditions of natural development.
And so, too, it is a condition of natural development, for which today only few people have any feeling, that only from a certain age onwards the human being can know something about the connections in life of which he must know, but which cannot be exhausted by information about external things. Naturally even at the age of nine we may know, for example, that the human being has ten fingers. But matters where a judgment formed by active thinking is necessary, cannot be known before we reach a certain time in life, that is, between about the eighteenth and nineteenth years. Just as it is impossible to get the second teeth before the seventh year so it is impossible to know something in its essential reality before the eighteenth year. It is simply impossible before the eighteenth year really to know about those things that are not just under our nose, things for which active judgment is necessary. Before this one may have heard something, may believe something on authority. But one cannot know anything about it. Before this we cannot unfold that inner activity of soul necessary for us to say: I know something about this or that which does not lie in a region accessible to mere eyes or ears. Such things are hardly mentioned today. They are, however, exceedingly important for life. If culture is to find roots again, one must speak about such things, and treat them in a knowledgeable way.
What, then, follows from the fact that before his eighteenth year the human being cannot, properly speaking, know anything? It follows that the human being before he is eighteen must depend upon those who are older, just as the infant is dependent on its mother's breast—it is in no way different. From this, however, there follows something of the greatest significance for the intercourse between teachers, educators, and the younger generation. If this is not heeded the connection is simply false.
Now, people are not conscious today that this is so; generally in the sphere of education, an opposite direction is taken. But it was not always so. If we look back before the first third of the fifteenth century, a real modern youth movement would not have been possible. At that time there could never have been a youth movement in the present form with a justified right of existence. Why could there have been no such thing? To answer this question we must turn to the conditions which obtained among those preparing for life in the monastic schools. We could also take the conditions for the young who were being prepared for trades. We should not find much difference. In the earliest of those times it was definitely realized that no one could be brought before his eighteenth year to the point of real knowledge. It would have seemed absurd had one maintained that it was possible to give anyone real knowledge before his eighteenth year. At that time it was known among older people, especially if they wanted to teach or educate: “The young cannot be brought to the point of actual knowledge. We must be capable of inducing the young to believe in what we, according to our knowledge, hold to be true.” And to lead the young to believe was a sacred task.
Today this is all upside-down, because what in earlier times was demanded only of the young, namely, belief, is now demanded in connection with the super-sensible of those who are grown-up. At that time the concept of belief was only there for those who were young. But it was regarded as something sacred. A man would have reproached himself with violating his most sacred duty if, as teacher or educator, he had failed to make the young believe in him out of the freshness and lively conviction of individual human nature, so that they thus received the truth. This shade of feeling lay in all education, in all instruction. In other respects the education and teaching of that time may today arouse a sense of antipathy because of its division into all kinds of classes and distinctions. But putting that aside, the desire was there to maintain the faith of the young.
Something else was connected with this: that teachers felt that it was first of all necessary to justify the claim that the young should believe in one. I shall explain this by means of an example in the monastery schools which were the only educational institutions in the time preceding the fifteenth century. One had first to justify the claim that one should be taken seriously; for this was the basis upon which the belief of the young was to be founded. A man did not think, just because he was a grown-up or because some authority had granted him a diploma or given him a post, that the young had to believe in him. It is true that diplomas and the like played a certain external role even in those days. But to justify the right to be taken seriously meant that to begin with one avoided giving them definite knowledge. It was not customary in those days to impart knowledge. It is so foreign to us today to connect any definite concept with the remark: We do not wish to impart knowledge to the young—that this saying is quite unintelligible. But at that time it was self-understood that before there was any wish to impart knowledge the young should be made to see and to feel that one was capable of something. It was only when the young people had reached a certain age that the teacher told them what he knew. The first step was to show what one could do, and for this reason the substance of the teaching was the trinity of grammar, dialectic and rhetoric. These were not sciences. For it is only in the course of time that grammar has become the present pseudo-scientific monstrosity. In those times grammar was not at all what it is today; it was the art of combining and separating thoughts and words. Instruction in grammar was the teaching of an art, and all the more so in the case of dialectic and rhetoric. Everything given was so arranged that the pupils should feel the ability of their teachers, that they should feel their teachers capable of speaking and thinking and of letting beauty hold sway in their speaking. Grammar, dialectic and rhetoric—this was instruction in ability, in an ability closely connected with the human activity of the teacher and educator.
Today when we speak of the objective method of teaching, we keep the teaching quite apart from the personality of the teacher. We drag in every possible kind of gadget, even those dreadful calculating machines, in order that the teaching may be as impersonal as possible. We try to separate it entirely from the personal. Such a separation is not really possible. The endeavour to keep the teaching entirely apart from the personal only leads to the worst sides of the teacher coming into play, and his good side is quite unable to unfold when so much objectivity is dragged in.
Thus it was a natural demand on the teacher that he should first let the young feel what he was capable of in the very highest sense, as a human being. He had to show his mastery of speech, his mastery of thought, and how beauty was part of his speech. Only by letting the young for a time witness what one could do, was the right acquired to lead them gradually to what can be known, to arithmetic, geometry, astronomy and music, to music as it was conceived of at that time, that is, as a permeation of the whole world-order by harmony and melody. Because a start was made from grammar, dialectic and rhetoric, one was able later to pour into arithmetic, geometry, astronomy and music as much of the artistic as was possible, having had an artistic point of departure.
Now all this has evaporated, has vanished into thin air, with the first dawn of intellectualism. Of everything artistic that appeared then we have but the scantiest remains. Here and there, in certain universities, the doctor's degree still bears with it the title: “Doctor of Philosophy and of the Seven Liberal Arts.” But you know the real state of affairs where the Seven Liberal Arts are concerned! That can be established historically; for instance, the famous Curtius who taught in Berlin was an extraordinary personality who held a quite irregular diploma. If you ask for what subject he actually received the venia legendi, you would expect it to have been for history of art. But that is not correct. His teaching certificate was for Eloquentia—fluency of speech. But the times were such that this branch of knowledge was out of date. He was professor of eloquence, but in order to teach he took up history of art—and dealt with it most excellently. Even at the time when Curtius was teaching it would have been strange had eloquence been a branch of instruction. Eloquence or rhetoric, however, was one of the fundamental branches of instruction given to the young of earlier times, with the result that something thoroughly artistic came into education. But the introduction of the artistic into education was still in keeping with the old order in which intellectual or mind soul encountered intellectual or mind soul. And today people are still not able to put the question from the new point of view: How must things be in human affairs if consciousness soul is to meet consciousness soul? As soon as education is considered in the wider sense this question arises of itself. It has been put for a long time, for decades, but human beings have not yet developed an active enough thinking to formulate and feel it clearly. And where do we find an answer?
One answer to this question is found by learning to perceive—for it is a matter of the unfolding of will and not of a theoretical solution—that when the child enters earthly existence he brings with him the power of imitation; up to the time of the change of teeth, the child just imitates. Out of this power of imitation speech is learnt. Speech is, so to speak, poured into the child just as his blood circulation is poured into him when he comes into earthly existence. But the child should not come to a more and more conscious education by giving him out of the consciousness soul knowledge in the form of truth. In earlier times it was said: Before the eighteenth year the child cannot know anything, so he must be led through ability to knowledge which he accepts first as belief; thereby the forces of knowledge will be awakened in him between the eighteenth and nineteenth years. For it is out of the inner being that the forces of knowledge must be awakened. To keep the young waiting until their eighteenth year, adults behaved in relation to youth so as to show what they were capable of, afterwards educating them to experience together with the teacher in a provisional way, up to the eighteenth year, what later they would be expected to know. Up to the eighteenth or nineteenth year the “acquisition of knowledge” was provisional, because before the eighteenth or nineteenth year it is not possible really to know anything. But in fact no teacher can convey knowledge to any boy or girl if in their feeling there has not ripened the conviction: He is capable! A teacher has not the right sense of responsibility towards the human being if he wants to set to work before the young take it as a matter of course that be knows his job.
Before the students were given arithmetic—as arithmetic was understood in those days, and it was not the dry, abstract stuff of today—those who guided them into arithmetic, knowing too how to speak and think, had also the gift of eloquence. When the young know this out of their own feeling, it is a good reason for looking up to those who are older. When they only know that the teacher has a diploma, it sometimes happens that when the child is not more than ten everything goes to pieces. The question which was a living one in those days must again be given life. But because today consciousness soul encounters consciousness soul in human affairs, this question cannot be solved as formerly when human beings confronted each other with their mind souls. Today a different solution must be found.
Naturally, we cannot return to the liberal arts, although it would be preferable than what is being done today. We must reckon with modern conditions—not the external conditions but those dealing with the evolution of the human race. Here we must find the transition from imitation, which up to the change of teeth is natural in the child, to the stage when we can bring knowledge to the human being, reckoning first upon trust and belief and later upon his own judgment.
But there is an intermediate period, today a very critical one for the young. For this period we must find the solution of the most significant world-problem; upon these problems depends the future progress or otherwise of human evolution—even its total submergence. The question is: How must adults handle children between the years of imitation and the years when knowledge can be given? Today this is one of the weightiest of all cultural questions.
And what was the youth movement in so far as it is to be taken seriously? It can be summed up in the burning question: Have the older people an answer for this? And it became clear to the young that no such answer was to be found in the schools, so they drifted out—out into grove and meadow and into the fields. They preferred, instead of being school boys and girls, to become birds—birds of passage (Wandervögel).
We must look at life, not at theories, when one seeks to encompass the great problems of world-culture. If one really looks into life today one will find that the period between the age of imitation and the age at which the human being can receive knowledge in the form of truth must be filled if humanity is not to pine away. This must be done by giving the human being with artistic beauty what he needs for head, heart and will. The seven-foldness of grammar, dialectic, rhetoric, arithmetic, geometry, astronomy and music, grew out of an older cultural order; it was of the nature of art. Today too we need art but, according to the demands of the consciousness soul, it must not be specialized in the way of the Seven Liberal Arts. During the primary school age and far beyond it, for as long as education holds good, the whole teaching must be warmed through and fired by the artistic element. During the primary school years everything must be steeped in beauty, and in later years beauty must rule as the interpreter of truth.
Those human beings who have not learnt to walk in the ways of beauty, and through beauty to capture truth, will never come to the full manhood needed to meet the challenges of life. The great German writers divined this even if its full importance was not emphasized. They were not met with understanding. How clearly we see this search for truth through beauty in Goethe. Listen how he says: “Art is a manifestation of secret forces of Nature,” which simply means that only through an artistic grasp of the world does man reach the living truth—otherwise it is dead. And Schiller's words, the beautiful words: “Only through the dawn of beauty do you penetrate to the land of knowledge.” Unless we first permeate ourselves with the meaning of the path, [that] only through the artistic can we penetrate into the realm of truth, there can be no question of acquiring a real understanding of the super-sensible world in accordance with the age of the consciousness soul.
For you see, with the help of the recognized sciences, today knowledge of man is limited to the physical body alone. With modern science there is no possibility of knowing anything about the human being beyond his physical body. That is why science can only speak conclusively—yet grandly—about physiology or biology so long as it is a question of the physical body. True, people talk about psychology. It is only known as experimental psychology; phenomena of the life of soul are observed, but what figures as phenomena of the soul is connected with the physical body. They cannot form the slightest conception of any real phenomena of the life of soul. Hence they have hit upon the idea psycho-physical parallelism. Parallel lines, however, can meet only at infinity. So, too, the connection between the physical body and the soul can be understood only at infinity. Thus psycho-physical parallelism was setup.
All this is symptomatic of the incapacity of the age to understand the human being. For, firstly, if one seeks to understand the human being, the power of intellectualism ceases. Man cannot be understood out of the intellect. One may choose to adhere firmly and rigidly to intellectualism; but then, knowledge of the human being must be renounced. But for that one would be obliged to tear out the mind and heart and that is impossible. If it is torn out it withers way. For the head can renounce knowledge of man, but this entails the stunting of mind and heart. All our present culture is expressed in a withered life of mind and heart. And, secondly, understanding of man is not to be achieved with concepts that lead us in the domain of outer Nature. However much we can achieve outwardly with these concepts they cannot lead us to the second member of the human body, to the human etheric body, the body of formative forces.
Just imagine that with the methods of modern science man could know as much, let us say, as he will know at the end of earth evolution—quite an appalling amount! I will assume the existence of a very finished and very clever scientist. I am not saying that there are not among us scientists already near this stage. For it is not my belief that in the future there will be more progress in intellectualism. A different path will be taken. I have the very highest respect for the intellectualism of our learned men. Do not for a moment think that I am saying this out of a lack of respect. I mean this in all seriousness. There are vast numbers of very clever scientists, of this there is no doubt at all! But even were I to assume that science had reached its highest peak, it would still only be able to understand the physical body of man, nothing at all of the etheric body. Knowledge of the etheric body is not based upon phantasy. But the stimulus to acquire the faculty for perceiving this subordinate super-sensible member of man's nature can arise only out of artistic experience of the soul. Art must become the life blood of the soul.
The more people wish in our objective science to avoid carefully everything of the nature of art, the more are they led away from knowledge of man. Through the microscope and other instruments we have come to know a great deal. But it never leads us nearer to the etheric body, only farther from it. Finally we entirely lose the path to what is a prime necessity for understanding man. In the case of plants we may get the better of this, for they do not concern us so intimately. It does not worry the plant that it is not the product of the laboratory which modern science makes it out to be. It still goes on growing under the influence of the etheric force of the cosmos and does not limit itself to the forces presumed to exist by physics and chemistry. But when we confront men things are different. Then our feeling, our confidence, our reverence, in short all that is in our mind which in the age of the consciousness soul naturally rises above instinct—for with the consciousness soul everything rises above instinct—depends upon our having an education which allows us to perceive something more than merely the human physical body.
When teachers deprive us of insight into what man really is, we cannot expect those forces to flourish which in the right way place man over against man. Everything depends upon the human being to free himself from the shackles of mere observation and experiment. Indeed we can estimate observation and experiment at their right value only when we have become free of them, and the simplest way of breaking free is the artistic way.
Yes, when the teacher stands in front of the child again as—in an earlier epoch—grammar dialectic, rhetoric stood, that is to say, when the teacher stands before the young so that his way of teaching is again that of the artist, and is permeated by art, there will arise a different youth movement—it may appear unattractive to you, but nevertheless it will arise—which will crowd around the teachers who are artists, because there they will draw nourishment and receive what the young must expect from those who are older. The youth movement cannot be a mere opposition, a mere revolt against the older generation, for then it becomes like the infant who can do nothing because it cannot receive milk from its mother. What is to be learnt must be learnt. But it will be learnt when there is as natural an urge towards those who are older as the infant has towards its mother's breast, or as the small child feels when, by imitating, he learns to speak. This urge will be stimulated when the young find the artistic coming from the older generation, when truth first appears in the garb of beauty. In this way all that is best will be kindled in the young, not the intellect which always remains passive, but the will which stirs thinking into activity. Artistic education will be an education of the will, and it is upon the education of the will that everything else depends.
Tomorrow, then, we shall continue.
Neunter Vortrag
[ 1 ] Aus den Andeutungen, die ich gestern über den Wandel der Menschenseele im Verlaufe der geschichtlichen Entwickelung gemacht habe, werden Sie ersehen können, daß in der Gegenwart der Mensch dem Menschen anders gegenübersteht, als das der Fall war vor dem gestern besprochenen Jahr 333.
[ 2 ] Sie kennen ja, wie ich annehmen darf, die Gliederung der ganzen menschlichen Wesenheit, die durch die anthroposophische Erkenntnis gewonnen werden kann. Sie wissen, daß in der menschlichen Seele unterschieden werden muß zwischen dem bis zum fünfzehnten Jahrhundert ganz besonders in der Menschennatur Regsamen und Tätigen, der sogenannten Verstandes- oder Gemütsseele, und der Bewußstseinsseele, die seit jener Zeit vor allem in denjenigen Menschen regsam ist, die sich hinaufentwickeln zu dem, was die Menschheit an Kulturerrungenschaften erworben hat.
[ 3 ] Wenn ich eine gewisse Betätigung der menschlichen Seele als die der Verstandes- oder Gemütsseele bezeichne, so soll damit nicht gesagt werden, daß der Verstand als solcher, so wie wir ihn heute auffassen, gerade ein besonderes Charakteristikum der Verstandes- oder Gemütsseele sei. Wir müssen diese Verstandes- oder Gemütsseele insbesondere bei den Griechen ausgebildet sehen und da ist durchaus nicht dasjenige Verstand, was heute das Intellektualistische ist. Wie das gemeint ist, werden Sie gerade aus den gestrigen Darstellungen entnehmen können.
[ 4 ] Den Griechen waren ihre Begriffe, ihre Ideen etwas Geistgegebenes. Daher hatte der Verstand nicht jenes Kalte, Tote, Trockene, das er heute für uns hat, wo er eben ein Erarbeitetes ist. Das Intellektualistische ist erst mit der besonderen Entwickelung der Bewußtseinsseele heraufgekommen. Sie können sich den Begriff der Verstandes- oder Gemütsseele nur richtig aneignen, wenn Sie sich ganz hineinversetzen in das Gemüt eines Griechen. Dann werden Sie schon den Unterschied finden zwischen jenem Verhältnis zur Welt, das der Grieche hatte, und unserem heutigen Verhältnis zur Welt. Aber einiges von dem, was da in Betracht kommt, soll uns gerade durch die heutige Darstellung etwas anschaulicher werden.
[ 5 ] Ich wollte diese einleitenden Worte nur sagen, damit wir uns darüber verständigen können, daß in den Jahrhunderten, die der neueren Zeit vorangegangen sind, also in den dem fünfzehnten vorangehenden Jahrhunderten, Mensch und Mensch sich so begegnet haben, daß der eine zu dem andern aus der Gemütsseele oder Verstandesseele heraus sprach, wie er auch, was ihm der andere gab, als aus der Gemüts- oder Verstandesseele heraus gegeben nahm. Heute stehen wir der Bewußtseinsseele gegenüber. Aber so recht fühlbar ist dies dem heranwachsenden Menschen erst um die Wende vom neunzehnten zum zwanzigsten Jahrhundert geworden auf Grund all der Verhältnisse, die ich ja schon geschildert habe. Dadurch aber sind die Lebensfragen eigentlich in einer durchaus neuen Weise vor die Menschheit getreten. Und gewisse Lebensfragen müssen heute in einer neuen Weise angeschaut werden, sonst wird die Verbindungsbrücke zwischen Bewußtseinsseele und Bewußtseinsseele, das heißt aber für den heutigen Menschen überhaupt zwischen Mensch und Mensch, nicht gefunden werden können. Und daran kranken wir eben in unserem Zeitalter, daß wir diese Brücke nicht finden können zwischen Mensch und Mensch.
[ 6 ] Wir müssen nun manche Fragen wirklich auf eine neue Weise so stellen, daß uns die Fragestellung selbst zunächst grotesk erscheinen könnte. Es ist aber nicht so grotesk gemeint. Nehmen wir einmal an, ein Kind von drei Jahren würde den Entschluß fassen, mit den zweiten Zähnen nicht bis zum siebenten Jahr zu warten, sondern es würde sagen: Es ist mir zu langweilig, noch vier Jahre durchzumachen, bis ich die zweiten Zähne kriege, ich will sie gleich kriegen. — Ich könnte Ihnen noch andere Vergleiche sagen, die Ihnen vielleicht noch grotesker erscheinen würden, aber es wird dieser genügen. Nun, das geht eben nicht, weil die naturgemäße Entwickelung unter gewissen Bedingungen verläuft. So ist auch eine Bedingung der naturgemäßen Entwickelung, von der heute die wenigsten Menschen etwas ahnen, daß man eigentlich erst von einem gewissen Zeitpunkte seines Lebens an wirklich etwas wissen kann von Lebenszusammenhängen, von gewissen Dingen, die der Mensch schon kennen muß, die sich aber nicht erschöpfen in den nächstliegenden Angaben über die äußeren Dinge. Natürlich kann man auch schon mit neun Jahren wissen, daß der Mensch zehn Finger hat und dergleichen. Aber etwas, zu dem eigentlich ein im aktiven Denken zu erringendes Urteil notwendig ist, kann man überhaupt nicht wissen bis zu einem Zeitpunkte im Leben, der ungefähr zwischen dem achtzehnten und neunzehnten Lebensjahre liegt. Ebensowenig, wie man vor dem siebenten Jahre die zweiten Zähne kriegen kann, kann man vor dem achtzehnten Jahre wirklich etwas wissen von solchen Lebenszusammenhängen, die über die eigene Nasenlänge hinausliegen, von Dingen vor allem, für die ein aktives Urteil norwendig ist. Vorher kann man etwas gehört haben, auf Autorität hin etwas glauben, aber wissen kann man nichts darüber. Man kann nicht vor dem achtzehnten Jahre jene innere Tätigkeit der Seele entfalten, welche notwendig ist, um sagen zu können: Ich weiß über dieses oder jenes etwas, was nicht im Gebiete des mit den Augen oder Ohren zu Erreichenden liegt.- Von solchen Dingen redet man heute nicht viel; sie sind aber im höchsten Grade lebenswichtig. Soll überhaupt eine Kulturwelt Hand und Fuß bekommen, dann handelt es sich gerade darum, daß man über solche Dinge wiederum redet, daß solche Dinge wiederum sachgemäß behandelt werden können.
[ 7 ] Was folgt nun daraus, daß man vor seinem achtzehnten Lebensjahre überhaupt nichts Derartiges wissen kann? Daraus folgt, daß man als Mensch vor dem achtzehnten Lebensjahre auf die Mitmenschen, die über das achtzehnte oder neunzehnte Lebensjahr hinaus sind, ebenso angewiesen ist wie der Säugling auf die Mutterbrust — es ist gar nicht anders. Daraus folgt aber etwas außerordentlich Bedeutsames für den Verkehr zwischen den Erziehenden und Unterrichtenden und dem jüngeren Menschen. Wenn das nicht beobachtet wird, so ist dieser Verkehr einfach falsch. Heute ist man sich nicht einmal bewußt, daß das so ist, und handelt darum gerade auf dem Gebiete der Pädagogik vielfach ganz verkehrt. Es war aber nicht immer so. Wenn wir in jene alten Zeiten zurückgehen, die vor dem ersten Drittel des fünfzehnten Jahrhunderts liegen, so hätte es da so etwas wie die heutige Jugendbewegung nicht geben können. Einer Jugendbewegung in der heutigen Form hätte man dazumal kein Lebensrecht zugestanden, es hätte sie nicht geben können. Und wenn man sich die Frage beantworten will, warum es sie nicht hätte geben können, dann muß man eben hinschauen auf die besonders signifikanten Verhältnisse, wie sie etwa bestanden zwischen Menschen, die sich in Klosterschulen für das Leben vorbereiteten. Wir können auch die Verhältnisse unter jungen Leuten nehmen, die für das Handwerk vorbereitet wurden. Wir würden nicht viel anderes finden, sondern genau dasselbe. Dazumal, in den ältesten Zeiten, da wußte man ganz genau, daß niemand vor dem achtzehnten Jahre zu einem Wissen heranerzogen werden könne. Es wäre den Leuten einfach absurd erschienen, wenn man behauptet hätte, man könne einen Menschen vor dem achtzehnten Jahre zum Wissen heranziehen. Unter den älteren Leuten, namentlich wenn diese Erzieher oder Unterrichter waren, wußte man dazumal ganz genau: zum Wissen heranziehen kann man die Jugend nicht. Man muß sich die Möglichkeit erwerben, die Jugend zum Glauben an dasjenige heranzuziehen, was man selber nach seinem Wissen für wahr hält. Und das war einem etwas Heiliges, die Jugend zum Glauben heranzuziehen.
[ 8 ] Heute sind alle diese Verhältnisse ganz verwuselt, weil man dasjenige, was man in älteren Zeiten nur von der Jugend verlangt hat, den Glauben, von den erwachsenen Menschen in bezug auf das Übersinnliche verlangt. Den Begriff desGlaubens hatte man dazumal im Grunde nur für die eigentliche Jugend; aber man betrachtete ihn als etwas Heiliges. Man hätte sich den Vorwurf gemacht, seine heiligste Menschenpflicht zu versäumen, wenn man es als Lehrer oder als Erzieher nicht dahin gebracht hätte, daß die Jugend aus der Frische und Überzeugungskraft der Menschennatur heraus an einen glaubt und so die Wahrheit übernimmt. Diese Gefühlsnuance lag in aller Erziehung, in allem Unterricht. Es mag einem sonst alles Erziehen und Unterrichten der damaligen Zeit heute unsympathisch erscheinen, weil es in alle möglichen Klassen und Differenzierungen eingeschachtelt war. Aber wenn wir davon absehen, so war die Erziehung damals so gestaltet, daß die Jugend an die Erzieher glauben konnte.
[ 9 ] Damit aber war ein anderes verknüpft: die Unterrichtenden waren sich bewußt, erst den Anspruch darauf erwerben zu müssen, daß die Jugend an sie glauben könne. Ich werde Ihnen das daran erläutern, wie die Jugend in den Klosterschulen darinnenstand, die ja die einzigen Bildungsanstalten in den Zeiten waren, die dem fünfzehnten Jahrhundert vorangingen. Da mußte man sich erst den Anspruch erwerben, um von der Jugend ernst genommen zu werden, denn das war die Voraussetzung dafür, daß die Jugend an einen glaubte. Man bildete sich nicht ein, daß die Jugend an einen glauben müsse, weil man erwachsen war oder weil irgendeine Behörde einem ein Diplom ausgestellt oder einen angestellt hatte. Gewiß haben auch damals Diplome und solche Dinge eine gewisse äußerliche Rolle gespielt. Den Anspruch, von der Jugend ernst genommen zu werden, erwarb man sich aber nicht dadurch, daß man ihr ein Wissen überlieferte. Heute können wir schwer einen Sinn mit dem Satz verbinden: «Man will der Jugend kein Wissen überliefern.» Aber dazumal war es fast selbstverständlich, daß man die Jugend erst anschauen, empfinden ließ, daß man selbst etwas kann, bevor man ihr ein Wissen überlieferte. Erst von einem gewissen Alter an sagte man der Jugend, was man wußte. Zuerst zeigte man ihr, was man kann, und so war der Inhalt des Unterrichts zunächst die Dreiheit von Grammatik, Dialektik und Rhetorik. Das waren keine Wissenschaften. Zu dem Ungeheuer von Pseudowissenschaft, zu dem es die Grammatik im Laufe der Zeit gebracht hat, ist sie erst später geworden. In jenen alten Zeiten war die Grammatik nicht das, was sie heute ist, sondern sie war die Kunst, Gedanken und Worte zu verbinden, zu trennen und so weiter. Grammatikunterricht war in gewissem Sinne ein künstlerischer Unterricht, und erst recht war das der Fall bei der Kunst der Dialektik und der Rhetorik. Alles war darauf berechnet, an die Jugend zunächst so heranzukommen, daß sie empfinden mußte: Man kann etwas; man kann sprechen und denken und Schönheit walten lassen im Sprechen. — Grammatik, Dialektik und Rhetorik, das war ein Unterricht im Können und zwar in einem solchen Können, das sich eng anschloß an die menschliche Regsamkeit des Unterrichtenden und Erziehenden. Wenn wir heute von Anschauungsunterricht sprechen, so lösen wir diesen ja ganz los von der Persönlichkeit des Unterrichtenden und Erziehenden. Wir schleppen alle möglichen Geräte, bis zu den scheußlichen Rechenmaschinen, zusammen, um nur ja den Unterricht so unpersönlich wie möglich zu machen. Wir bestreben uns, ihn von dem Persönlichen loszulösen. Das kann man aber nicht, denn dieses Bestreben führt nur dazu, daß die schlechtesten Seiten der Erzieher zur Wirksamkeit kommen und sie, wenn da alle mögliche «Objektivität» zusammengeschleppt wird, die schönen Seiten ihres Wesens gar nicht entfalten können.
[ 10 ] Es bestand also die Anforderung an den Erzieher und Unterrichter, die Jugend zuerst empfinden zu lassen, was er - und zwar im höchsten Sinne — als Mensch «kann»: wie er die Sprache beherrscht, wie er die Gedanken beherrscht, wie sich sogar die Schönheit seiner Sprache mitteilt. Erst dadurch, daß man eine Zeitlang in dieser Art die jungen Leute zusehen ließ, was man kann, erwarb man sich den Anspruch darauf, sie allmählich auch heranzuziehen zu dem, was man wissen kann: zur Arithmetik, Geometrie, Astronomie und Musik, wie sie damals gemeint war als einer harmonischen und melodischen Durchdringung der ganzen Weltenordnung. Dadurch, daß man ausging vom Grammatischen, Dialektischen und Rhetorischen, konnte man in Arithmetik, Geometrie, Astronomie und Musik noch so viel Künstlerisches gießen, als eben möglich ist, wenn vom Künstlerischen ausgegangen wird.
[ 11 ] Sehen Sie, das ist nun alles verflüchtigt, verduftet unter dem ersten Heraufkommen des Intellektualismus. Von altem Artistischem in dieser Art haben wir ja nur noch ganz spärliche Reste. An einzelnen Universitäten werden die Doktor-Diplome bekanntlich so ausgestellt, daß der betreffende Diplomierte ernannt wird zum «Doktor der Philosophie und der sieben freien Künste». Aber was es mit diesen sieben freien Künsten für eine Bewandtnis hat, das wissen Sie ja ungefähr. Historisch kann man daran erinnern, daß der berühmte Curtius, der in Berlin gelehrt hat und eine außerordentliche Persönlichkeit war, ein von seinem Fach ganz abweichendes Diplom hatte. Sie glauben vielleicht, daß er die Venia legendi für Kunstgeschichte hatte? Das war aber nicht der Fall. Er hatte den Lehrauftrag für Eloquentia, Beredsamkeit! Aber zu seiner Zeit wäre es schon antiquiert gewesen, dieses Fach irgendwie geltend zu machen. Er war Professor der Beredsamkeit, und um überhaupt etwas tun zu können, vertrat er Kunstgeschichte, und vertrat sie ausgezeichnet. Es wäre einem sogar schon in der damaligen Zeit, als Curtius lehrte, komisch vorgekommen, wenn die Beredsamkeit ein Lehrfach gewesen wäre. Aber die Beredsamkeit, die Rhetorik, war in früheren Zeiten für die jüngere Jugend ein Grundlehrfach, und dadurch kam etwas durch und durch Künstlerisches in die Erziehung hinein. Aber dieses Hineinbringen eines Künstlerischen in die Erziehung war noch ganz unter den Gesichtspunkt der alten Menschenordnung gestellt, wo die Verstandes- oder Gemütsseele der Verstandes- oder Gemütsseele gegenüberstand. Heute ist man noch gar nicht in der Lage, sich die Frage von dem neuen Gesichtspunkte aus zu stellen: Wie müssen diese Dinge sein, wenn in der Menschenordnung die Bewußtseinsseele der Bewußtseinsseele gegenübersteht? — Sobald Pädagogik im weiteren Sinne in Betracht kommt, stellt sich eben diese Frage von selbst ein. Sie ist längst gestellt, sie ist seit Jahrzehnten gestellt, aber die Menschen haben noch nicht das aktive Denken aufgebracht, sie zu formulieren und deutlich zu empfinden. Und wo liegt eine Antwort auf diese Frage?
[ 12 ] Eine Antwort auf diese Frage liegt darinnen, daß wir einsehen lernen — denn es kommt bei diesen Dingen auf Willensentfaltung an und nicht auf eine theoretische Lösung -, daß das Kind, indem es aus dem vorirdischen in das irdische Dasein hereintritt, sich zunächst die Kraft der Nachahmung mitbringt, so daß das Kind ein Nachahmer ist bis zum Zahnwechsel. Aus dieser Kraft der Nachahmung wird ja noch die Sprache gelernt. Sie ist ja, ich möchte sagen, dem Kinde einergossen, so wie seine Blutzirkulation ihm einergossen ist, indem es das Erdendasein betritt. Aber wir können nun das Kind nicht einfach an eine immer bewußtere Erziehung herankommen lassen, indem wir aus der Bewußtseinsseele heraus die Erkenntnis in Form der sogenannten Wahrheit überliefern. Die frühere Zeit, die ich eben in bezug auf das Erziehungsproblem charakterisiert habe, sagte: Vor dem achtzehnten Jahre kann ein junger Mensch nichts wissen, also muß man ihn durchs Können zum Wissen, das er zuerst im Glauben hinnimmt, führen. - Durch den Glauben, den er in jüngeren Jahren aufnimmt, werden in ihm die Wissenskräfte zwischen dem achtzehnten und neunzehnten Jahre geweckt. Die Wissenskräfte müssen aus dem Inneren heraus geweckt werden, und um das tun zu können, um gewissermaßen den jungen Menschen auf den Wartestandpunkt zu setzen bis zu seinem achtzehnten Jahre, suchte man sich der Jugend gegenüber so zu verhalten, daß man ihr zuerst zeigte, was man selber kann. Dann erzog man sie zu der Empfindung, mit einem selber — ich möchte sagen provisorisch — bis zum achtzehnten Jahre zu erleben, was man wissen soll. Das «Wissenaneignen» war bis zum achtzehnten, neunzehnten Jahre ein Provisorium, weil man vor dieser Altersstufe eigentlich überhaupt nichts wissen kann. Aber kein Lehrer kann irgendeinem Jungen oder Mädchen in Wahrheit ein Wissen überliefern, wenn nicht in diesem jungen Menschen die empfindende Überzeugung gereift ist: Der kann etwas. — Es ist einfach der Menschheit gegenüber ein unverantwortliches Beginnen, als Pädagoge anders wirken zu wollen als dadurch, daß die Jugend zuerst die selbstverständliche Meinung bekommt: Der kann etwas.
[ 13 ] Bevor man als junger Mensch an die Arithmetik kam, wie sie damals aufgefaßt wurde — sie war nicht jenes stroherne abstrakte Zeug wie heute —, war man sich klar darüber, daß diejenigen, die einen in die Arithmetik einführen, reden und denken können. Man war sich auch klar darüber, daß sie über Beredsamkeit verfügen. Das war ein Grund, um sich als junger Mensch an dem älteren hinaufzuranken, wenn man das alles aus der eigenen Empfindung heraus wußte. Wenn man bloß weiß, er hat ein Diplom, dann geht die Geschichte, die da begründet werden soll, schon manchmal mit dem zehnten Jahre kaputt. DieFrage, die dazumal lebendig unter den Leuten lebte, muß wiederum lebendig werden. Weil sich heute in der Menschenordnung Bewußtseinsseele der Bewußtseinsseele gegenübersteht, kann diese Frage nicht ebenso gelöst werden wie früher, wo Gemütsseele der Gemütsseele gegenüberstand. Sie muß heute anders gelöst werden.
[ 14 ] Selbstverständlich können wir nicht wieder beginnen, das «trivium quadrivium» einzuführen, obwohl es noch immer besser wäre als das, was heute an die Jugend herangebracht wird. Wir müssen den heutigen Verhältnissen, nicht den äußeren, sondern denjenigen, die in der Entwickelung des Menschengeschlechtes liegen, Rechnung tragen. Da ist es so, daß wir den Übergang finden müssen zwischen der Zeit der selbstverständlichen Nachahmung, welche das Kind vor dem Zahnwechsel einfach aus seiner Natur heraus übt, und der Zeit, wo wir zunächst auf Treu und Glauben hin, später auf das eigene Urteil rechnend, den Menschen Wissen beibringen können.
[ 15 ] Aber da ist eine Zwischenzeit, und diese Zwischenzeit ist für die heutige Jugend ungeheuer kritisch. Für diese Zwischenzeit muß das wichtigste Weltproblem gelöst werden, von dem Fortschritt, Rückschritt oder sogar Niedergang der menschlichen Entwickelung in der Zukunft abhängt: Was haben die Älteren mit den Jüngeren zu tun zwischen den Jahren, wo nachgeahmt wird, und den Jahren, wo das Wissen überliefert werden kann? Diese Frage ist eine der wichtigsten Kulturfragen der Gegenwart.
[ 16 ] Und was war denn die Jugendbewegung, insofern sie ernst zu nehmen ist? Sie war das Lechzen nach einer Antwort auf diese Frage. Und die Jugend kam darauf, daß auf den Schulen eine solche Antwort nicht zu finden ist, und so trieb sie sich - verzeihen Sie den Ausdruck, er ist nicht so schlimm gemeint, wie er klingt - in Wald und Flur und auf dem Felde herum. Sie zog es vor, statt Schulmensch zu werden, Vogel zu werden, Wandervogel zum Beispiel.
[ 17 ] Das Leben muß angeschaut werden und nicht die Theorie, wenn man die große Weltkulturfrage bewältigen will. Wer heute in das Leben hineinschaut, der findet: Damit die Menschheit nicht verkümmere, muß die Zeit zwischen dem Nachahmungsalter und dem Alter, wo der Mensch die Erkenntnis in der Form der Wahrheit übernehmen kann, ausgefüllt werden dadurch, daß dem Menschen das, was er für Kopf, Herz und Willen haben muß, in künstlerischer Schönheit überliefert wird. Aus einer alten Kulturordnung war die Siebenheit von Grammatik, Dialektik, Rhetorik, Arithmetik, Geometrie, Astronomie und Musik als etwas Künstlerisches herausgewachsen. Heute brauchen wir auch ein Künstlerisches, nur muß es gemäß den Forderungen der Bewußtseinsseele nicht in dieser Weise spezialisiert sein, daß sieben freie Künste walten. Es muß für das Volksschulalter und noch lange über das Volksschulalter hinaus — solange es sich überhaupt um Erziehung und Unterricht handelt - der ganze Unterricht durchfeuert und durchglüht sein von dem künstlerischen Elemente. Die Schönheit muß für das Volksschulalter und für das spätere Alter des Menschen walten, die Schönheit als die Dolmetscherin der Wahrheit.
[ 18 ] Diejenigen, die nicht gelernt haben, durch die Schönheit sich die Wahrheit zu erobern, werden niemals ein Vollmenschliches in sich aufnehmen, das sie wappnet gegenüber den Anforderungen des Lebens. Die deutschen Klassiker haben das vorausgeahnt, wenn auch nicht in voller Tragweite betont. Aber sie haben damit kein Verständnis gefunden. Sehen Sie doch, wie Goethe die Wahrheit durch die Schönheit sucht. Hören Sie, wie Goethe sagt: Die Kunst ist eine Manifestation geheimer Naturkräfte, — was ja nichts anderes besagen will, als daß man durch die künstlerische Erfassung der Welt erst zu der lebendigen Wahrheit gelangt, während man sonst nur zur toten Wahrheit kommt. Und Schillers schönes Wort lautet: Nur durch das Morgentor des Schönen dringst du in der Erkenntnis Land! — Bevor nicht der Sinn dieses Weges: durch das Künstlerische, durch das Artistische in das Wahrheitsgebiet hineinzugehen, im allertiefsten Sinne durchdrungen wird, kann auch nicht die Rede sein davon, daß die Menschheit sich ein wirkliches Verständnis für die übersinnliche Welt im Sinne des Zeitalters der Bewußtseinsseele aneigne.
[ 19 ] Denn sehen Sie, vom Menschen kann man ja mit Hilfe der Wissenschaft, die man heute hat und anerkennt, nur den physischen Körper erkennen. Es gibt keine Möglichkeit, mit der heutigen Wissenschaft etwas anderes vom Menschen zu erkennen als den physischen Körper. Daher wird auch über Physiologie und Biologie nur dann zutreffend, ja sogar großartig gesprochen, solange es sich um den physischen Körper handelt. Wohl redet man auch noch ein wenig von Psychologie. Aber die kennt man nur als Experimentalpsychologie und beobachtet solche seelischen Erscheinungen, die mit dem physischen Leib zusammenhängen. Von rein seelischen Erscheinungen können sich die Menschen nicht die geringste Vorstellung machen. Daher sind sie auch darauf gekommen, den psychophysischen Parallelismus zu erfinden, wie man ihn nennt. Parallelen können sich aber erst in der Unendlichkeit schneiden. So kann man auch sagen: Über den Zusammenhang von physischem Leib und der Seele kann man erst etwas wissen in der Unendlichkeit. — Und so stellte man den psychophysischen Parallelismus auf.
[ 20 ] In alledem drückt sich symptomatisch das Unvermögen des Zeitalters aus, den Menschen zu verstehen. Denn erstens, wenn man den Menschen verstehen will, hört sofort die Macht des Intellektualismus auf. Der Mensch läßt sich nicht intellektualistisch verstehen. Man kann fest und steif beharren auf dem Intellektualismus; dann muß man aber auf die Erkenntnis vom Menschen verzichten. Doch müßte man sich dazu erst das Gemüt herausreißen, und das kann man nicht. Wenn man es aber nicht herausreißt, so verkümmert es. Der Kopf kann wohl noch verzichten auf das Verständnis des Menschen, aber das Gemüt verkümmert. Unsere ganze Kultur schreibt sich so aus dem verkümmerten Gemüt her. Und zweitens ist ein Menschenverständnis nicht mit den Begriffen zu erringen, die uns großartig führen in der äußeren Natur. Mögen wir mit denen auch äußerlich noch so viel erreichen, aber das tun sie ganz sicher nicht, daß sie uns auch nur zum zweiten Gliede des menschlichen Leibes führen, nämlich zum ätherischen Menschenleib, zum Bildekräfteleib.
[ 21 ] Denken Sie sich, der Mensch könnte durch die Methoden der heutigen Wissenschaft schon so viel wissen, wie man vielleicht, sagen wir, am Erdenende wissen wird, also ganz furchtbar viel. Ich will einen ganz vollendeten, ganz gescheiten Wissenschafter annehmen. Ich will gar nicht einmal sagen, daß es nicht Wissenschafter gibt, die diesem Zustande schon nahe sind, denn ich glaube gar nicht, daß man im Intellektualismus in Zukunft noch besonders fortschreiten wird. Man wird eben andere Wege gehen. Ich habe den höchsten Respekt vor dem Intellektualismus unserer Gelehrsamkeit. Glauben Sie ja nicht, daß ich das, was ich sage, aus einer Respektlosigkeit heraus sage; ich sage es in vollem Ernst. Gescheite Wissenschafter sind zweifellos in großer Zahl vorhanden, daran soll auch nicht im geringsten gezweifelt werden! Aber selbst wenn ich annehmen würde, daß diese Wissenschaftlichkeit den höchsten Gipfel erreicht hätte, den sie erreichen kann, so würde man damit doch nur den physischen Menschenleib begreifen können, gar nichts jedoch von dem ätherischen Leibe. Nicht, als ob ich behaupten wollte, daß die Erkenntnis des ätherischen Leibes auf einer Phantasterei beruhe. Das ist nicht der Fall. Sie ist eine wirkliche Erkenntnis. Aber die Anregung, überhaupt ein Auge zu bekommen für dieses, ich möchte sagen, untergeordnetste unter den übersinnlichen Gliedern der Menschennatur, die kann nur aus dem artistischen Seelenerlebnis herauf kommen. Dazu gehört eben einfach künstlerisches Seelenblut.
[ 22 ] Daher können Sie sich auch vorstellen, daß, je mehr man in unserer objektiven Wissenschaft mit Sorgfalt alles vermeiden will, was künstlerisch ist, diese Wissenschaft den Menschen immer mehr davon abbringt, sich selbst, nämlich den Menschen, kennenzulernen. Es ist ungeheuer viel, was wir durch die Mikroskope und durch andere Apparate erfahren haben. Aber dadurch kommen wir dem Ätherleibe niemals näher, sondern nur ferner. Wir verlieren schließlich ganz den Weg, um überhaupt einen Zugang zu gewinnen zu dem, was in erster Linie für das Begreifen des Menschen notwendig ist. Bei den Pflanzen können wir es noch verwinden, weil uns die nicht so nahe angehen. Die Pflanze schert sich nicht darum, daß sie nicht jenes Laboratoriumsprodukt ist, zu dem sie die moderne Naturwissenschaft macht. Sie wächst deshalb doch unter dem Einfluß der ätherischen Kraft des Weltalls und beschränkt sich nicht auf das, was Physik und Chemie als Kräfte voraussetzen. Aber wenn wir als Mensch dem Menschen gegenüberstehen, dann hängt unser Gefühl, unser Vertrauen, unsere Pietät, kurz alles, was in unserem Gemüte ist und im Zeitalter der Bewußtseinsseele selbstverständlich über das bloß Instinktive hinausgeht — in der Bewußtseinsseele geht ja alles über das Instinktive hinaus -, davon ab, daß wir eine Erziehung bekommen, die uns hinschauen läßt auf etwas, was nicht bloß physischer Menschenleib ist.
[ 23 ] Wenn uns die Erzieher davon abbringen, eine Einsicht in das zu bekommen, was der Mensch ist, so können wir nicht verlangen, daß im Gemüte die Kräfte heranwachsen, die den Menschen in der richtigen Weise dem Menschen gegenüberstellen. Aber alles hängt davon ab, daß der Mensch sich losreißen kann von dem Haften an der bloßen Beobachtung, an dem bloßen Experiment. Ja, wir können die Beobachtung, das Experiment, im richtigen Sinne erst würdigen, wenn wir uns davon losreißen, und das einfachste Losreißen ist das artistische, das künstlerische Losreißen.
[ 24 ] Wenn der Lehrer, der Unterrichter, dem Kinde wiederum gegenüberstehen wird so, wie für ein älteres Zeitalter passend die Grammatik, die Dialektik, die Rhetorik der Jugend gegenübergestanden haben, das heißt, wenn der Lehrer, der Unterrichter wieder der Jugend gegenüberstehen wird so, daß seine Handhabung des Unterrichts wieder artistisch ist, daß überall Kunst im Unterricht herrscht, dann wird eine andere Jugendbewegung entstehen - sie mag Ihnen heute unsympathisch sein —, aber es wird eine Jugendbewegung entstehen, die sich hindrängen wird zu den artistischen Lehrern, weil sie da «saugen» will, weil sie von ihnen das erwarten wird, was die Jugend von den Älteren erwarten muß. Denn in Wahrheit kann die Jugendbewegung nicht eine bloße Opposition, ein bloßes Auflehnen gegen das Ältere sein, sondern es ist schon ähnlich so wie mit dem Säugling: könnte man nicht von der Mutter die Muttermilch bekommen, man könnte alles andere auch nicht. Was man lernen muß, das muß man eben lernen. Aber man wird es eben lernen, wenn man einen so selbstverständlichen Zug zu den Älteren hat, wie ihn der Säugling hat zu der Mutterbrust, wie ihn das Kind hat, wenn es durch die Nachahmung sprechen lernt. Den wird man haben, wenn einem entgegentritt von der älteren Generation das Künstlerische, wenn einem die Wahrheit zuerst in der Schönheit erscheint. Dann wird gerade das Beste sich in den jungen Menschen entzünden: nicht der Intellekt, der immer passiv bleibt, sondern der Wille, der aktiv wird und der auch noch das Denken aktivieren wird. Artistisch-künstlerische Erziehung wird eine Willenserziehung sein, und von der Erziehung des Willens hängt ja doch alles ab. Wie das weiter aufzufassen ist, davon dann morgen.
Ninth Lecture
[ 1 ] From the hints I gave yesterday about the transformation of the human soul in the course of historical development, you will be able to see that in the present day, human beings relate to one another differently than was the case before the year 333, which we discussed yesterday.
[ 2 ] You are familiar, I assume, with the structure of the whole human being as it can be understood through anthroposophical knowledge. You know that in the human soul a distinction must be made between what was particularly active in human nature up to the fifteenth century, the so-called intellectual or emotional soul, and the consciousness soul, which since that time has been active above all in those human beings who are developing toward what humanity has acquired in cultural achievements.
[ 3 ] When I describe a certain activity of the human soul as that of the intellectual or emotional soul, I do not mean to say that the intellect as such, as we understand it today, is a special characteristic of the intellectual or emotional soul. We must see this intellectual or emotional soul as particularly developed in the Greeks, and it is by no means the intellect that is intellectualism today. You will be able to see what this means from yesterday's explanations.
[ 4 ] For the Greeks, their concepts and ideas were something given by the spirit. Therefore, the intellect did not have that cold, dead, dry quality that it has for us today, where it is something that has been worked out. Intellectualism only arose with the special development of the consciousness soul. You can only truly grasp the concept of the intellectual or emotional soul if you put yourself completely in the mind of a Greek. Then you will already find the difference between the relationship the Greeks had to the world and our relationship to the world today. But some of what comes into consideration here will become clearer to us precisely through today's presentation.
[ 5 ] I wanted to say these introductory words only so that we can understand that in the centuries that preceded modern times, that is, in the centuries preceding the fifteenth, human beings encountered one another in such a way that one spoke to the other from the emotional soul or the intellectual soul, just as he took what the other gave him as coming from the emotional or intellectual soul. Today we are faced with the consciousness soul. But this has only become truly tangible to the growing human being at the turn of the nineteenth to the twentieth century, due to all the circumstances I have already described. As a result, however, the questions of life have actually come before humanity in a completely new way. And certain questions of life must be viewed in a new way today, otherwise the connecting bridge between the consciousness soul and the consciousness soul, that is, between human beings in general for people today, cannot be found. And this is precisely what ails us in our age, that we cannot find this bridge between human beings.
[ 6 ] We must now ask some questions in a new way, in such a way that the questions themselves may seem grotesque at first. But they are not meant to be grotesque. Let us assume that a three-year-old child decides not to wait until the age of seven for its second teeth to come in, but says: “It's too boring to wait four more years until I get my second teeth, I want them now.” I could give you other comparisons that might seem even more grotesque to you, but this one will suffice. Well, that is simply not possible because natural development proceeds under certain conditions. One condition of natural development, of which very few people today have any inkling, is that it is only from a certain point in life that one can really know anything about the connections between things in life, about certain things that human beings must already know but which are not exhausted in the most obvious information about external things. Of course, at the age of nine, one can already know that humans have ten fingers and so on. But something that actually requires a judgment to be made through active thinking cannot be known at all until a point in life that lies approximately between the ages of eighteen and nineteen. Just as one cannot get one's second teeth before the age of seven, one cannot really know anything before the age of eighteen about such connections in life that lie beyond one's own nose, especially about things that require active judgment. Before that, one may have heard something, believe something on authority, but one cannot know anything about it. Before the age of eighteen, one cannot develop the inner activity of the soul that is necessary to be able to say: I know something about this or that which lies beyond the realm of what can be achieved with the eyes or ears. People do not talk much about such things today, but they are of the utmost importance in life. If a cultural world is to take shape at all, then it is precisely a matter of talking about such things again, of being able to deal with such things appropriately again.
[ 7 ] What follows from the fact that one cannot know anything of the sort before the age of eighteen? It follows that before the age of eighteen, human beings are as dependent on their fellow human beings who are over the age of eighteen or nineteen as infants are on their mothers' breasts—there is no other way. But this has extremely important consequences for the relationship between educators and teachers and younger people. If this is not observed, then this interaction is simply wrong. Today, people are not even aware that this is the case, and therefore often act completely wrongly, especially in the field of education. But it was not always so. If we go back to those ancient times before the first third of the fifteenth century, there could not have been anything like today's youth movement. A youth movement in its present form would not have been allowed to exist at that time; it could not have existed. And if we want to answer the question of why it could not have existed, we must look at the particularly significant relationships that existed, for example, between people who were preparing for life in monastery schools. We can also take the conditions among young people who were being prepared for a trade. We would find little difference, but rather exactly the same thing. In those days, in the earliest times, it was well known that no one could be educated to acquire knowledge before the age of eighteen. It would have seemed simply absurd to people to claim that a person could be educated to acquire knowledge before the age of eighteen. Among older people, especially if they were educators or teachers, it was well known at that time that you cannot educate young people. You have to acquire the ability to lead young people to believe in what you yourself believe to be true according to your knowledge. And that was something sacred, to lead young people to believe.
[ 8 ] Today, all these relationships are completely confused, because what was only demanded of young people in earlier times, namely belief, is now demanded of adults in relation to the supersensible. At that time, the concept of belief was basically only used for young people, but it was regarded as something sacred. Teachers and educators would have been accused of neglecting their most sacred duty if they had not succeeded in getting young people to believe in them out of the freshness and persuasiveness of human nature and thus to accept the truth. This emotional nuance was present in all education and teaching. Everything about education and teaching at that time may seem unsympathetic to us today because it was compartmentalized into all kinds of classes and distinctions. But if we disregard that, education at that time was designed in such a way that young people could believe in their educators.
[ 9 ] But this was linked to something else: the teachers were aware that they first had to earn the right to be believed by the young people. I will explain this to you by describing the situation of young people in monastery schools, which were the only educational institutions in the period preceding the fifteenth century. First, one had to earn the right to be taken seriously by young people, because that was the prerequisite for them to believe in you. One did not imagine that young people had to believe in you because you were an adult or because some authority had issued you a diploma or hired you. Certainly, diplomas and such things played a certain external role even then. However, you did not earn the right to be taken seriously by young people by passing on knowledge to them. Today, it is difficult for us to make sense of the statement: “We do not want to pass on knowledge to young people.” But back then, it was almost self-evident that you first had to let young people see and feel that you yourself were capable of something before you passed on knowledge to them. Only at a certain age did one tell young people what one knew. First, one showed them what one could do, and so the content of teaching was initially the trinity of grammar, dialectics, and rhetoric. These were not sciences. Grammar only later became the monster of pseudoscience that it has become over time. In those ancient times, grammar was not what it is today, but rather the art of connecting and separating thoughts and words, and so on. Grammar lessons were, in a sense, artistic lessons, and this was even more true of the arts of dialectics and rhetoric. Everything was designed to approach young people in such a way that they would feel: You can do something; you can speak and think and let beauty reign in your speech. Grammar, dialectics, and rhetoric were lessons in skill, and indeed in a skill that was closely linked to the human vitality of the teacher and educator. When we talk about visual teaching today, we separate it completely from the personality of the teacher and educator. We drag together all kinds of devices, even hideous calculating machines, just to make teaching as impersonal as possible. We strive to detach it from the personal. But this cannot be done, because this endeavor only leads to the worst sides of the educators coming to the fore and, when all possible “objectivity” is brought together, they cannot develop the beautiful sides of their nature at all.
[ 10 ] Educators and teachers were therefore required to first let young people experience what they are capable of as human beings in the highest sense: how they master language, how they master thoughts, how even the beauty of their language is communicated. Only by allowing young people to observe what they were capable of for a period of time did one earn the right to gradually draw them toward what they could learn: arithmetic, geometry, astronomy, and music, as these were understood at the time as a harmonious and melodic permeation of the entire world order. By starting from grammar, dialectics, and rhetoric, it was possible to pour as much artistry into arithmetic, geometry, astronomy, and music as is possible when starting from artistry.
[ 11 ] You see, all of that has now vanished, evaporated with the first emergence of intellectualism. We have only very sparse remnants of the old artistry of this kind. At some universities, doctoral degrees are awarded in such a way that the graduate is named “Doctor of Philosophy and the Seven Liberal Arts.” But you know roughly what these seven liberal arts are all about. Historically, we can recall that the famous Curtius, who taught in Berlin and was an extraordinary personality, had a degree that was completely different from his field. You might think that he had the venia legendi for art history? But that was not the case. He had a teaching position in Eloquentia, oratory! But in his day, it would have been considered antiquated to claim expertise in this subject. He was a professor of oratory, and in order to be able to do anything at all, he substituted for art history, and did so excellently. Even in Curtius's day, it would have seemed strange if oratory had been a subject taught in schools. But eloquence, rhetoric, was a basic subject for young people in earlier times, and this brought something thoroughly artistic into education. But this introduction of the artistic into education was still entirely from the point of view of the old human order, where the intellectual or emotional soul stood opposite the intellectual or emotional soul. Today, we are not yet in a position to ask ourselves the question from the new point of view: How must these things be when, in the human order, the consciousness soul stands opposite the consciousness soul? As soon as pedagogy in the broader sense comes into consideration, this question arises of its own accord. It has long been asked, it has been asked for decades, but people have not yet mustered the active thinking to formulate it and feel it clearly. And where is the answer to this question?
[ 12 ] The answer to this question lies in our learning to understand — for in these matters it is a matter of the development of the will and not of a theoretical solution — that when the child enters earthly existence from the pre-earthly, it initially brings with it the power of imitation, so that the child is an imitator until it loses its baby teeth. It is from this power of imitation that language is learned. I would say that it is poured into the child, just as its blood circulation is poured into it when it enters earthly existence. But we cannot simply allow the child to approach an increasingly conscious education by imparting knowledge in the form of so-called truth from the conscious soul. The earlier period, which I have just characterized in relation to the problem of education, said: Before the age of eighteen, a young person can know nothing, so one must lead them through skill to knowledge, which they first accept on faith. Through the faith they absorb in their younger years, the powers of knowledge are awakened in them between the ages of eighteen and nineteen. The powers of knowledge must be awakened from within, and in order to do this, in order to put young people, so to speak, on a waiting platform until they reach the age of eighteen, people sought to behave toward youth in such a way that they first showed them what they themselves were capable of. Then they were educated to feel that they should experience what they needed to know with themselves — I would say provisionally — until the age of eighteen. The “acquisition of knowledge” was provisional until the age of eighteen or nineteen, because before that age one cannot really know anything at all. But no teacher can truly impart knowledge to any boy or girl unless the young person has developed the feeling that they are capable of something. It is simply irresponsible toward humanity for an educator to try to influence young people in any way other than by first giving them the natural conviction that they are capable of something.
[ 13 ] Before young people were introduced to arithmetic as it was understood at the time — it was not the straw-like abstract stuff it is today — it was clear that those who taught arithmetic were people who could speak and think. It was also clear that they were eloquent. That was a reason for young people to look up to their elders when they knew all this from their own experience. If you only know that someone has a diploma, then the story that is supposed to be established sometimes falls apart by the age of ten. The question that was so alive among people at that time must become alive again. Because today, in the human order, the consciousness soul stands opposite the consciousness soul, this question cannot be solved in the same way as in the past, when the mind soul stood opposite the mind soul. It must be solved differently today.
[ 14 ] Of course, we cannot start introducing the “trivium quadrivium” again, even though it would still be better than what is being taught to young people today. We must take into account today's circumstances, not the external ones, but those that lie in the development of the human race. We must find the transition between the time of spontaneous imitation, which the child practices simply out of its nature before it loses its baby teeth, and the time when we can teach people knowledge, first on the basis of trust and faith, and later on the basis of their own judgment.
[ 15 ] But there is an intermediate period, and this intermediate period is extremely critical for today's youth. During this intermediate period, the most important world problem must be solved, on which the progress, regression, or even decline of human development in the future depends: What do older people have to do with younger people between the years when things are imitated and the years when knowledge can be passed on? This question is one of the most important cultural questions of our time.
[ 16 ] And what was the youth movement, insofar as it is to be taken seriously? It was the thirst for an answer to this question. And young people came to the conclusion that such an answer could not be found in schools, and so they drifted—forgive the expression, it is not as bad as it sounds—into the woods and fields. They preferred to become birds, Wandervögel, for example, rather than schoolchildren.
[ 17 ] If you want to tackle the big question of world culture, you have to look at life, not theory. Anyone who looks at life today will find that in order for humanity not to wither away, the time between the age of imitation and the age when people can accept knowledge in the form of truth must be filled by passing on to people what they need for their minds, hearts, and wills in the form of artistic beauty. From an ancient cultural order, the sevenfold division of grammar, dialectic, rhetoric, arithmetic, geometry, astronomy, and music had grown as something artistic. Today we also need something artistic, but in accordance with the demands of the conscious soul, it must not be specialized in such a way that seven liberal arts prevail. For the elementary school age and long beyond elementary school age—as long as education and instruction are concerned at all—the entire teaching must be fired and inflamed by the artistic element. Beauty must prevail for the elementary school age and for the later age of human beings, beauty as the interpreter of truth.
[ 18 ] Those who have not learned to conquer truth through beauty will never absorb into themselves that which is fully human and equips them to meet the demands of life. The German classics foresaw this, even if they did not emphasize its full significance. But they found no understanding for it. See how Goethe seeks truth through beauty. Listen to Goethe: Art is a manifestation of secret forces of nature—which means nothing other than that it is only through the artistic apprehension of the world that we arrive at living truth, whereas otherwise we arrive only at dead truth. And Schiller's beautiful words are: Only through the morning gate of beauty do you enter the land of knowledge! — Until the meaning of this path—to enter the realm of truth through the artistic, through the artistic—is thoroughly understood in the deepest sense, there can be no question of humanity acquiring a real understanding of the supersensible world in the sense of the age of the conscious soul.
[ 19 ] For you see, with the help of the science we have and recognize today, we can only recognize the physical body of the human being. There is no way, with today's science, to know anything else about human beings other than their physical body. Therefore, physiology and biology can only be spoken of accurately, even magnificently, as long as they deal with the physical body. There is also some talk of psychology, but this is only known as experimental psychology and observes those mental phenomena that are connected with the physical body. People cannot form the slightest idea of purely mental phenomena. That is why they have come up with the idea of psychophysical parallelism, as it is called. But parallels can only intersect in infinity. So one can also say: we can only know something about the connection between the physical body and the soul in infinity. — And so psychophysical parallelism was established.
[ 20 ] All of this symptomatically expresses the inability of the age to understand human beings. For, first of all, when one wants to understand human beings, the power of intellectualism immediately ceases. Human beings cannot be understood intellectually. One can insist firmly and rigidly on intellectualism, but then one must renounce the knowledge of man. To do so, however, one would first have to tear out one's mind, and that is impossible. But if one does not tear it out, it withers away. The head may well renounce the understanding of man, but the mind withers away. Our entire culture is thus written out of the withered mind. And secondly, an understanding of human beings cannot be attained with the concepts that guide us magnificently in external nature. No matter how much we may achieve with them externally, they certainly do not lead us even to the second member of the human body, namely the etheric human body, the image-forming body.
[ 21 ] Imagine that human beings could already know as much through the methods of today's science as we might know, say, at the end of the earth, that is, an awful lot. Let me assume a completely accomplished, completely intelligent scientist. I do not even want to say that there are no scientists who are already close to this state, for I do not believe that intellectualism will make any particular progress in the future. People will simply take other paths. I have the highest respect for the intellectualism of our scholarship. Do not think that I am saying this out of disrespect; I say it in all seriousness. There are undoubtedly a large number of intelligent scientists, there is no doubt about that! But even if I were to assume that this scientific approach had reached the highest peak it could possibly reach, it would still only be possible to understand the physical human body, but nothing at all about the etheric body. Not that I would claim that knowledge of the etheric body is based on fantasy. That is not the case. It is real knowledge. But the inspiration to develop an eye for this, I would say, most subordinate of the supersensible members of human nature, can only come from artistic soul experience. This simply requires artistic soul blood.
[ 22 ] You can therefore imagine that the more our objective science carefully avoids everything that is artistic, the more it detracts people from getting to know themselves, namely human beings. We have learned an enormous amount through microscopes and other instruments. But this never brings us closer to the etheric body, only further away. We ultimately lose sight of the path that leads to an understanding of what is necessary for comprehending human beings in the first place. We can still get over this with plants because they are not so close to us. Plants do not care that they are not the laboratory products that modern natural science makes them out to be. They grow under the influence of the etheric forces of the universe and do not limit themselves to what physics and chemistry presuppose as forces. But when we as human beings stand face to face with other human beings, then our feelings, our trust, our reverence, in short, everything that is in our mind and, in the age of the conscious soul, naturally goes beyond the merely instinctive — for in the conscious soul everything goes beyond the instinctive — it depends on whether we receive an education that allows us to look at something that is not merely the physical human body.
[ 23 ] If our educators prevent us from gaining insight into what the human being is, we cannot expect the powers to grow in our minds that enable us to relate to human beings in the right way. But everything depends on the human being being able to break away from mere observation, from mere experimentation. Yes, we can only appreciate observation and experimentation in the right sense when we break away from them, and the simplest way to break away is through artistic means.
[ 24 ] When teachers and instructors face children in the same way that grammar, dialectics, and rhetoric faced young people in earlier times, that is, when teachers and instructors once again face young people in such a way that their teaching methods are artistic and that art prevails throughout the classroom, then a different youth movement will emerge — it may be unsympathetic to you today — but a youth movement will arise that will push its way toward artistic teachers because it wants to “suck” from them, because it will expect from them what youth must expect from its elders. For in truth, the youth movement cannot be mere opposition, mere rebellion against the older generation, but is rather similar to the infant: if one could not get breast milk from one's mother, one could not get anything else either. What one has to learn, one has to learn. But you will learn it if you have such a natural attraction to older people as the infant has to its mother's breast, as the child has when it learns to speak by imitation. You will have this if you are confronted with the artistic in the older generation, if truth first appears to you in beauty. Then the best in young people will be ignited: not the intellect, which always remains passive, but the will, which becomes active and will also activate thinking. Artistic education will be an education of the will, and everything depends on the education of the will. How this is to be understood further will be discussed tomorrow.