Where and How Does One Find the Spirit?
GA 57
4 March 1909, Berlin
Translated by Brian Kelly
The Four Temperaments
It has frequently been emphasized that man's greatest riddle is himself. Both natural and spiritual science ultimately try to solve this riddle—the former by understanding the natural laws that govern our outer being, the latter by seeking the essence and purpose inherent in our existence.0This translation originally appeared in The Four Temperaments. Mercury Press 1987. Now as correct as it may be that man's greatest riddle is himself, it must also be emphasized that each individual human being is a riddle, often even to himself. Every one of us experiences this in encounters with other people.
Today we shall be dealing not with general riddles, but rather with those posed to us by every human being in every encounter, and these are just as important. For how endlessly varied people are! We need only consider temperament, the subject of today's lecture, in order to realize that there are as many riddles as there are people. Even within the basic types known as the temperaments, such variety exists among people that the very mystery of existence seems to express itself within these types. Temperament, that fundamental coloring of the human personality, plays a role in all manifestations of individuality that are of concern to practical life. We sense something of this basic mood whenever we encounter another human being. Thus we can only hope that spiritual science will tell us what we need to know about the temperaments.
Our first impression of the temperaments is that they are external, for although they can be said to flow from within, they manifest themselves in everything we can observe from without. However, this does not mean that the human riddle can be solved by means of natural science and observation. Only when we hear what spiritual science has to say can we come closer to understanding these peculiar colorations of the human personality.
Spiritual science tells us first of all that the human being is part of a line of heredity. He displays the characteristics he has inherited from father, mother, grandparents, and so on. These characteristics he then passes on to his progeny. The human being thus possesses certain traits by virtue of being part of a succession of generations.
However, this inheritance gives us only one side of his nature. Joined to that is the individuality he brings with him out of the spiritual world. This he adds to what his father and mother, his ancestors, are able to give him. Something that proceeds from life to life, from existence to existence, connects itself with the generational stream. Certain characteristics we can attribute to heredity; on the other hand, as a person develops from childhood on, we can see unfolding out of the center of his being something that must be the fruit of preceding lives, something he could never have inherited from his ancestors. We come to know the law of reincarnation, of the succession of earthly lives and this is but a special case of an all-encompassing cosmic law.
An illustration will make this seem less paradoxical. Consider a lifeless mineral, say, a rock crystal. Should the crystal be destroyed, it leaves nothing of its form that could be passed on to other crystals.1Translator's note: The reader may conclude from this remark—for it was, after all, a remark, not a published claim—that Steiner was ignorant of the concept of seed crystals. However, a likelier explanation is that Steiner, whose audience was very likely not a scientifically knowledgeable one, was simply indulging in a bit of rhetorical hyperbole. He doubtless knew that a seed crystal will hasten the crystallization process in a saturated salt solution, but this fact is not really relevant to his point, which comes out only gradually in this paragraph. His point is not that a newly-forming crystal cannot receive some contribution from a previously existing one, only that it need not; this is in contrast to living things, which require a progenitor. A new crystal receives nothing of the old one's particular form. When we move on to the world of plants, we notice that a plant cannot develop according to the same laws as does the crystal. It can only originate from another, earlier plant. Form is here preserved and passed on.
Moving on to the animal kingdom, we find an evolution of the species taking place. We begin to appreciate why the nineteenth century held the discovery of evolution to be its greatest achievement. In animals, not only does one being proceed from another, but each young animal during the embryo phase recapitulates the earlier phases of its species' evolutionary development. The species itself undergoes an enhancement.
In human beings not only does the species evolve, but so does the individual. What a human being acquires in a lifetime through education and experience is preserved, just as surely as are the evolutionary achievements of an animal's ancestral line. It will someday be commonplace to trace a person's inner core to a previous existence. The human being will come to be known as the product of an earlier life. The views that stand in the way of this doctrine will be overcome, just as was the scholarly opinion of an earlier century, which held that living organisms could arise from nonliving substances. As recently as three hundred years ago, scholars believed that animals could evolve from river mud, that is, from nonliving matter. Francesco Redi, an Italian scientist, was the first to assert that living things could develop only from other living things.2Francesco Redi, 1626-1697. Refuted spontaneous generation of living beings out of mud. For this he was attacked and came close to suffering the fate of Giordano Bruno.3Giordano Bruno, 1548-1600. Italian philosopher, Dominican monk, burned at the stake as heretic. Taught that the world is infinite in space and time and filled with innumerable suns. Today, burning people at the stake is no longer fashionable. When someone attempts to teach a new truth, for example, that psycho-spiritual entities must be traced back to earlier psycho-spiritual entities, he won't exactly be burned at the stake, but he will be dismissed as a fool. But the time will come when the real foolishness will be to believe that the human being lives only once, that there is no enduring entity that unites itself with a person's inherited traits.
Now the important question arises: How can something originating in a completely different world, that must seek a father and a mother, unite itself with physical corporeality? How can it clothe itself in the bodily features that link human beings to a hereditary chain? How does the spiritual-psychic stream, of which man forms a part through reincarnation, unite itself with the physical stream of heredity? The answer is that a synthesis must be achieved. When the two streams combine, each imparts something of its own quality to the other. In much the same way that blue and yellow combine to give green, the two streams in the human being combine to yield what is commonly known as temperament. Our inner self and our inherited traits both appear in it. Temperament stands between the things that connect a human being to an ancestral line, and those the human being brings with him out of earlier incarnations. Temperament strikes a balance between the eternal and the ephemeral. And it does so in such a way that the essential members of the human being, which we have come to know in other contexts, enter into a very specific relationship with one another.
Human beings as we know them in this life are beings of four members. The first, the physical body, they have in common with the mineral world. The first super-sensible member, the etheric body, is integrated into the physical and separates from it only at death. There follows as third member the astral body, the bearer of instincts, drives, passions, desires, and of the ever-changing content of sensation and thought. Our highest member, which places us above all other earthly beings, is the bearer of the human ego, which endows us in such a curious and yet undeniable fashion with the power of self-awareness. These four members we have come to know as the essential constituents of a human being.
The way the four members combine is determined by the flowing together of the two streams upon a person's entry into the physical world. In every case, one of the four members achieves predominance over the others, and gives them its own peculiar stamp. Where the bearer of the ego predominates, a choleric temperament results. Where the astral body predominates, we find a sanguine temperament. Where the etheric or life-body predominates, we speak of a phlegmatic temperament. And where the physical body predominates, we have to deal with a melancholic temperament. The specific way in which the eternal and the ephemeral combine determines what relationship the four members will enter into with one another.
The way the four members find their expression in the physical body has also frequently been mentioned. The ego expresses itself in the circulation of the blood. For this reason, in the choleric the predominant system is that of the blood. The astral body expresses itself physically in the nervous system; thus in the sanguine, the nervous system holds sway. The etheric body expresses itself in the glandular system; hence the phlegmatic is dominated physically by his glands. The physical body as such expresses itself only in itself; thus the outwardly most important feature in the melancholic is his physical body. This can be observed in all phenomena connected with these temperaments.
In the choleric, the ego and the blood system predominate. The choleric thus comes across as someone who must always have his way. His aggressiveness, everything connected with his forcefulness of will, derives from his blood circulation.
In the nervous system and astral body, sensations and feelings constantly fluctuate. Any harmony or order results solely from the restraining influence of the ego. People who do not exercise that influence appear to have no control over their thoughts and sensations. They are totally absorbed by the sensations, pictures, and ideas that ebb and flow within them. Something like this occurs whenever the astral body predominates, as, for example, in the sanguine. Sanguines surrender themselves in a certain sense to the constant and varied flow of images, sensations, and ideas since in them the astral body and nervous system predominate.
The nervous system's activity is restrained only by the circulation of the blood. That this is so becomes clear when we consider what happens when a person lacks blood or is anaemic, in other words, when the blood's restraining influence is absent. Mental images fluctuate wildly, often leading to illusions and hallucinations.
A touch of this is present in sanguines. Sanguines are incapable of lingering over an impression. They cannot fix their attention on a particular image nor sustain their interest in an impression. Instead, they rush from experience to experience, from percept to percept. This is especially noticeable in sanguine children, where it can be a source of concern. The sanguine child's interest is easily kindled, a picture will easily impress, but the impression quickly vanishes.
We proceed now to the phlegmatic temperament. We observed that this temperament develops when the etheric or life-body, as we call it, which regulates growth and metabolism, is predominant. The result is a sense of inner well-being. The more a human being lives in his etheric body, the more is he preoccupied with his internal processes. He lets external events run their course while his attention is directed inward.
In the melancholic we have seen that the physical body, the coarsest member of the human organization, becomes master over the others. As a result, the melancholic feels he is not master over his body, that he cannot bend it to his will. His physical body, which is intended to be an instrument of the higher members, is itself in control, and frustrates the others. This the melancholic experiences as pain, as a feeling of despondency. Pain continually wells up within him. This is because his physical body resists his etheric body's inner sense of well-being, his astral body's liveliness, and his ego's purposeful striving.
The varying combinations of the four members also manifest themselves quite clearly in external appearance. People in whom the ego predominates seek to triumph over all obstacles, to make their presence known. Accordingly their ego stunts the growth of the other members; it withholds from the astral and etheric bodies their due portion. This reveals itself outwardly in a very clear fashion. Johann Gottlieb Fichte, that famous German choleric, was recognizable as such purely externally.4Johann Gottlieb Fichte, 1762-1814. German Idealist philosopher. His build revealed clearly that the lower essential members had been held back in their growth. Napoleon, another classic example of the choleric, was so short because his ego had held the other members back.5Napoleon Bonaparte, 1769-1821. French ruler and emperor 1804-1814 and 1815. Of course, one cannot generalize that all cholerics are short and all sanguines tall. It is a question of proportion. What matters is the relation of size to overall form.
In the sanguine the nervous system and astral body predominate. The astral body's inner liveliness animates the other members, and makes the external form as mobile as possible. Whereas the choleric has sharply chiseled facial features, the sanguine's are mobile, expressive, changeable. We see the astral body's inner liveliness manifested in every outer detail, for example, in a slender form, a delicate bone structure, or lean muscles. The same thing can be observed in details of behavior. Even a non-clairvoyant can tell from behind whether someone is a choleric or a sanguine; one does not need to be a spiritual scientist for that. If you observe the gait of a choleric, you will notice that he plants each foot so solidly that he would seem to want to bore down into the ground. By contrast, the sanguine has a light, springy step. Even subtler external traits can be found. The inwardness of the ego, the choleric's self-contained inwardness, express themselves in eyes that are dark and smoldering. The sanguine, whose ego has not taken such deep root, who is filled with the liveliness of his astral body, tends by contrast to have blue eyes. Many more such distinctive traits of these temperaments could be cited.
The phlegmatic temperament manifests itself in a static, indifferent physiognomy, as well as in plumpness, for fat is due largely to the activity of the etheric body. In all this the phlegmatic's inner sense of comfort is expressed. His gait is loose-jointed and shambling, and his manner timid. He seems somehow to be not entirely in touch with his surroundings.
The melancholic is distinguished by a hanging head, as if he lacked the strength necessary to straighten his neck. His eyes are dull, not shining like the choleric's; his gait is firm, but in a leaden rather than a resolute sort of way.
Thus you see how significantly spiritual science can contribute to the solution of this riddle. Only when one seeks to encompass reality in its entirety, which includes the spiritual, can knowledge bear practical fruit. Accordingly, only spiritual science can give us knowledge that will benefit the individual and all mankind. In education, very close attention must be paid to the individual temperaments, for it is especially important to be able to guide and direct them as they develop in the child. But the temperaments are also important to our efforts to improve ourselves later in life. We do well to attend to what expresses itself through them if we wish to further our personal development.
The four fundamental types I have outlined here for you naturally never manifest themselves in such pure form. Every human being has one basic temperament, with varying degrees of the other three mixed in. Napoleon, for example, although a choleric, had much of the phlegmatic in him. To truly master life, it is important that we open our souls to what manifests itself as typical. When we consider that the temperaments, each of which represents a mild imbalance, can degenerate into unhealthy extremes, we realize just how important this is.
Yet, without the temperaments the world would be an exceedingly dull place, not only ethically, but also in a higher sense. The temperaments alone make all multiplicity, beauty, and fullness of life possible. Thus in education it would be senseless to want to homogenize or eliminate them, but an effort should be made to direct each into the proper track, for in every temperament there lie two dangers of aberration, one great, one small. One danger for the young choleric is that he will never learn to control his temper as he develops into maturity. That is the small danger. The greater is that he will become foolishly single-minded. For the sanguine the lesser danger is flightiness; the greater is mania, induced by a constant stream of sensations. The small danger for the phlegmatic is apathy; the greater is stupidity, dullness. For the melancholic, insensitivity to anything other than his own personal pain is the small danger; the greater is insanity.
In light of all this it is clear that to guide and direct the temperaments is one of life's significant tasks. If this task is to be properly carried out, however, one basic principle must be observed, which is always to reckon with what is given, and not with what is not there. For example, if a child has a sanguine temperament, he will not be helped if his elders try to flog interest into him. His temperament simply will not allow it. Instead of asking what the child lacks, in order that we might beat it into him, we must focus on what he has, and base ourselves on that. And as a rule, there is one thing we can always stimulate the sanguine child's interest in. However flighty the child might be, we can always stimulate his interest in a particular personality. If we ourselves are that personality, or if we bring the child together with someone who is, the child cannot but develop an interest. Only through the medium of love for a personality can the interest of the sanguine child be awakened. More than children of any other temperament, the sanguine needs someone to admire. Admiration is here a kind of magic word, and we must do everything we can to awaken it.
We must reckon with what we have. We should see to it that the sanguine child is exposed to a variety of things in which he has shown a deeper interest. These things should be allowed to speak to him, to have an effect upon him. They should then be withdrawn, so that the child's interest in them will intensify; then they may be restored. In other words, we must fashion the sanguine's environment so that it is in keeping with his temperament.
The choleric child is also susceptible of being led in a special way. The key to his education is respect and esteem for a natural authority. Instead of winning affection by means of personal qualities, as one does with the sanguine child, one should see to it that the child's belief in his teacher's ability remains unshaken. The teacher must demonstrate an understanding of what goes on around the child. Any showing of incompetence should be avoided. The child must persist in the belief that his teacher is competent, or all authority will be lost. The magic potion for the choleric child is respect and esteem for a person's worth, just as for the sanguine child it was love for a personality. Outwardly, the choleric child must be confronted with challenging situations. He must encounter resistance and difficulty, lest his life become too easy.
The melancholic child is not easy to lead. With him, however, a different magic formula may be applied. For the sanguine child this formula was love for a personality; for the choleric, it was respect and esteem for a teacher's worth. By contrast, the important thing for the melancholic is for his teachers to be people who have in a certain sense been tried by life, who act and speak on the basis of past trials. The child must feel that the teacher has known real pain. Let your treatment of all of life's little details be an occasion for the child to appreciate what you have suffered. Sympathy with the fates of those around him furthers the melancholic's development. Here too one must reckon with what the child has. The melancholic has a capacity for suffering, for discomfort, which is firmly rooted in his being; it cannot be disciplined out of him. However, it can be redirected. We should expose the child to legitimate external pain and suffering, so that he learns there are things other than himself that can engage his capacity for experiencing pain. This is the essential thing. We should not try to divert or amuse the melancholic, for to do so only intensifies his despondency and inner suffering; instead, he must be made to see that objective occasions for suffering exist in life. Although we mustn't carry it too far, redirecting the child's suffering to outside objects is what is called for.
The phlegmatic child should not be allowed to grow up alone. Although naturally all children should have play-mates, for phlegmatics it is especially important that they have them. Their playmates should have the most varied interests. Phlegmatic children learn by sharing in the interests, the more numerous the better, of others. Their playmates' enthusiasms will overcome their native indifference towards the world. Whereas the important thing for the melancholic is to experience another person's fate, for the phlegmatic child it is to experience the whole range of his playmates' interests. The phlegmatic is not moved by things as such, but an interest arises when he sees things reflected in others, and these interests are then reflected in the soul of the phlegmatic child. We should bring into the phlegmatic's environment objects and events toward which “phlegm” is an appropriate reaction. Impassivity must be directed toward the right objects, objects toward which one may be phlegmatic.
From the examples of these pedagogical principles, we see how spiritual science can address practical problems. These principles can also be applied to oneself, for purposes of self-improvement. For example, a sanguine gains little by reproaching himself for his temperament. Our minds are in such questions frequently an obstacle. When pitted directly against stronger forces such as the temperaments, they can accomplish little. Indirectly, however, they can accomplish much. The sanguine, for example, can take his sanguinity into account, abandoning self-exhortation as fruitless. The important thing is to display sanguinity under the right circumstances. Experiences suited to his short attention span can be brought about through thoughtful planning. Using thought in this way, even on the smallest scale, will produce the requisite effect.
Persons of a choleric temperament should purposely put themselves in situations where rage is of no use, but rather only makes them look ridiculous. Melancholics should not close their eyes to life's pain, but rather seek it out; through compassion they redirect their suffering outward toward appropriate objects and events. If we are phlegmatics, having no particular interests, then we should occupy ourselves as much as possible with uninteresting things, surround ourselves with numerous sources of tedium, so that we become thoroughly bored. We will then be thoroughly cured of our “phlegm;” we will have gotten it out of our system. Thus does one reckon with what one has, and not with what one does not have.
By filling ourselves with practical wisdom such as this, we learn to solve that basic riddle of life, the other person. It is solved not by postulating abstract ideas and concepts, but by means of pictures. Instead of arbitrarily theorizing, we should seek an immediate understanding of every individual human being. We can do this, however, only by knowing what lies in the depths of the soul. Slowly and gradually, spiritual science illuminates our minds, making us receptive not only to the big picture, but also to subtle details. Spiritual science makes it possible that when two souls meet and one demands love, the other offers it. If something else is demanded, that other thing is given. Through such true, living wisdom do we create the basis for society. This is what we mean when we say we must solve a riddle every moment.
Anthroposophy acts not by means of sermons, exhortations, or catechisms, but by creating a social groundwork, upon which human beings can come to know each other. Spiritual science is the ground of life, and love is the blossom and fruit of a life enhanced by it. Thus spiritual science may claim to lay the foundation for humankind's most beautiful goal—a true, genuine love for man.
Das Geheimnis der Menschlichen Temperamente
Es ist oftmals betont worden, daß des Menschen größtes Rätsel der Mensch selber ist. Im Grunde sucht alle tiefere Naturforschung ihr letztes Ziel dadurch zu erreichen, daß sie alle Naturvorgänge zusammenfaßt, um die äußere Gesetzmäßigkeit zu begreifen, und alle Geisteswissenschaft sucht die Quellen des Daseins deswegen auf, um des Menschen Wesenheit und Bestimmung zu begreifen, zu lösen. Wenn das also ohne Frage richtig ist, daß im allgemeinen des Menschen größtes Rätsel der Mensch selber ist, so muß auf der anderen Seite wiederum betont werden, was jeder von uns bei jeder Begegnung mit Menschen fühlt und empfindet, daß jeder einzelne Mensch im Grunde wieder ein Rätsel für den anderen und in den meisten Fällen für sich selber ist. Nicht mit den allgemeinen Daseinsrätseln haben wir es heute zu tun, wohl aber mit jenem für das Leben nicht weniger bedeutsamen Rätsel, das uns jeder Mensch bei jeder Begegnung aufgibt. Denn wie unendlich verschieden sind die Menschen in ihrem individuellen, tiefsten Innern! Man braucht nur das Wort Temperament auszusprechen, das heute unserm Vortrag zugrunde liegen soll, um zu sehen, daß der Rätsel so viele sind wie Menschen. Innerhalb der Grundtypen, der Grundfärbungen, haben wir eine solche Mannigfaltigkeit und Verschiedenheit unter den Menschen, daß man wohl sagen kann, daß innerhalb der eigentümlichen Grundstimmung des menschlichen Wesens, die man Temperament nennt, das eigentümliche Daseinsrätsel sich ausdrückt. Und da, wo die Rätsel eingreifen in die unmittelbare Lebenspraxis, da spielt die Grundfärbung des menschlichen Wesens, das Temperament, eine Rolle. Wenn uns der Mensch entgegentritt, so fühlt man, daß etwas von dieser Grundstimmung uns entgegentritt. Deshalb darf man nur hoffen, daß die Geisteswissenschaft das Nötige zu sagen hat auch über das Wesen der Temperamente.
Man fühlt, die Temperamente des Menschen gehören zu dem Äußeren, denn, wenn man auch zugeben muß, daß die Temperamente aus dem Innern quellen, so drücken sie sich doch aus in allem, was uns äußerlich am Menschen vor Augen tritt. Durch eine äußere Naturbetrachtung ist das Rätsel des Menschen aber nicht zu lösen. Nur dann kann man der eigentümlichen Färbung des menschlichen Wesens nahetreten, wenn wir erfahren, was die Geisteswissenschaft über den Menschen zu sagen hat. Wir erfahren da, daß wir im Menschen zunächst dasjenige haben, wodurch der Mensch sich hineinstellt in seine Vererbungslinie. Er zeigt die Eigenschaften, die er ererbt hat von Vater, Mutter, Großeltern und so weiter. Diese Merkmale vererbt er wiederum auf seine Nachkommen. Dadurch, daß der Mensch so in eine Generationenreihe hineingestellt ist, daß er Ahnen hat, dadurch hat er gewisse Eigenschaften. Aber dasjenige, was er ererbt von seinen Vätern hat, gibt uns nur eine Seite der menschlichen Wesenheit. Hiermit verbindet sich dasjenige, was der Mensch aus der geistigen Welt mitbringt, was er zu dem hinzubringt, was ihm Vater und Mutter, was ihm die Ahnen geben können. Mit dem, was da herunterfließt in der Generationsströmung, verbindet sich etwas anderes, das von Leben zu Leben, von Dasein zu Dasein geht. Auf der einen Seite sagen wir: Das oder das hat der Mensch von seinen Ahnen. — Wir sehen aber, wenn wir einen Menschen von Kindheit an sich entwickeln sehen, wie sich aus dem Kern seiner Natur heraus das entwickelt, was die Frucht vorhergehender Leben ist, was er niemals von seinen Vorfahren ererbt haben kann. Wir kennen das Gesetz der Wiederverkörperung, der Folge der Lebensläufe. Das ist nichts anderes, als der spezielle Fall eines allgemeinen Weltgesetzes.
Nicht so paradox erscheint es uns, wenn wir uns überlegen: Sehen wir uns ein lebloses Mineral an, einen Bergkristall. Er hat eine regelmäßige Form. Geht er zugrunde, so hinterläßt er nichts von seiner Form, was bestehen bleibt, was auf andere Bergkristalle übergehen könnte. Der neue Kristall bekommt nichts von seiner Form. Steigen wir hinauf aus der Welt des Mineralischen in die Welt des Pflanzlichen, so wird uns klar, daß nicht aus demselben Gesetz heraus, wie beim Bergkristall, eine Pflanze entstehen kann. Eine Pflanze kann nur da sein, wenn sie sich herleitet von der Vorfahrenpflanze. Hier wird die Form erhalten und hinübergeleitet in die andere Wesenheit. Gehen wir hinauf in die Tierwelt, so finden wir, wie eine Entwickelung der Art stattfindet. Wir sehen, wie gerade das neunzehnte Jahrhundert seine größten Ergebnisse darin gesehen hat, diese Entwickelung der Art aufzufinden. Wir sehen, wie nicht nur aus einer Form eine andere hervorgeht, sondern wie jedes junge Tier im Leibe der Mutter noch einmal die früheren Formen, die niederen Entwickelungsphasen durchmacht, die seine Vorfahren gehabt haben. Bei den Tieren haben wir eine Steigerung der Art.
Beim Menschen haben wir nicht nur eine Steigerung der Art, eine Entwickelung der Gattung, sondern eine Entwickelung der Individualität. Was der Mensch sich im Laufe seines Lebens durch Erziehung, durch Erfahrung erwirbt, das geht ebensowenig verloren wie die Vorfahrenreihe der Tiere. Es wird eine Zeit kommen, wo man den Wesenskern des Menschen zurückführen wird auf ein vorheriges Dasein. Man wird erkennen, daß das menschliche Wesen eine Frucht eines früheren Daseins ist. Die Widerstände, gegen die diese Lehre sich einleben muß, werden überwunden werden, geradeso, wie die Meinung der Gelehrten früherer Jahrhunderte überwunden wurde, daß Lebendiges aus Unlebendigem, zum Beispiel aus Flußschlamm entstehen könne. Noch vor dreihundert Jahren glaubte die Naturforschung, daß sich Tiere aus Flußschlamm, also aus Unlebendigem, entwickeln könnten. Es war ein italienischer Naturforscher, Francesco Redi, der zuerst die Behauptung aufstellte, daß Lebendiges nur aus Lebendigem entstehen könne. Er wurde angegriffen wegen dieser Lehre; fast wäre es ihm gegangen wie Giordano Bruno. Heute ist ja das Verbrennen nicht mehr Mode. Wer heute mit einer neuen Wahrheit hervortritt, wer zum Beispiel Seelisch-Geistiges auf Seelisch-Geistiges zurückführen will, den wird man ja heute nicht gerade verbrennen, aber man wird ihn für einen Narren ansehen. Es wird eine Zeit kommen, wo es für einen Unsinn angesehen werden wird, zu meinen, daß der Mensch nur einmal lebt, daß nicht etwas Bleibendes da ist, das sich verbindet mit dem, was die vererbten Merkmale sind.
Nun entsteht die große Frage: Wie kann dasjenige, was aus ganz anderen Welten stammt, was sich Vater und Mutter suchen muß, sich vereinen mit dem Leiblich-Physischen, wie kann es sich umkleiden mit dem, was die körperlichen Merkmale sind, durch die der Mensch hineingestellt wird in die Vererbungslinie? Wie geschieht die Vereinigung der beiden Strömungen, der geistig-seelischen Strömung, in die der Mensch hineingestellt ist durch die Wiederverkörperung, und der leiblichen Strömung der Vererbungslinie? Es muß ein Ausgleich geschaffen werden. Indem die beiden Strömungen sich vereinigen, färbt die eine Strömung die andere. Sie färben sich gegenseitig. So wie sich die blaue und die gelbe Farbe etwa vereinigen in dem Grün, so vereinigen sich die beiden Strömungen im Menschen zu dem, was man sein Temperament nennt. Hier strahlt aus das Seelische des Menschen und die natürlichen vererbten Merkmale. In der Mitte drinnen steht, was das Temperament ist, mitten zwischen dem, wodurch der Mensch sich anschließt an seine Ahnenreihe und dem, was er mitbringt aus seinen früheren Verkörperungen. Das Temperament gleicht das Ewige mit dem Vergänglichen aus. Dieser Ausgleich geschieht dadurch, daß dasjenige, was wir als die Glieder der menschlichen Natur kennengelernt haben, in ganz bestimmter Art und Weise miteinander ins Verhältnis tritt.
Wir kennen diesen Menschen, wie er uns entgegentritt im Leben, zusammengeflossen aus diesen beiden Strömungen, wir kennen ihn als eine viergliedrige Wesenheit. Zuerst kommt der physische Leib in Betracht, den der Mensch gemeinsam hat mit der mineralischen Welt. Als erstes übersinnliches Glied erhält er den Ätherleib eingegliedert, der das ganze Leben hindurch mit dem physischen Leib vereinigt bleibt; nur im Tode tritt eine Trennung der beiden ein. Als drittes Glied folgt der Astralleib, der Träger von Instinkten, Trieben, Leidenschaften, Begierden und von all dem, was an Empfindungen und Vorstellungen auf- und abwogt. Des Menschen höchstes Glied, das, wodurch er über alle Wesen hinausragt, ist der Träger des menschlichen Ichs, das ihm in so rätselhafter Weise, aber auch in so offenbarer Weise, die Kraft des Selbstbewußtseins gibt. Diese vier Glieder sind uns entgegengetreten in der menschlichen Wesenheit.
Dadurch nun, daß zwei Strömungen im Menschen zusammenfließen, wenn er hineintritt in die physische Welt, dadurch entsteht eine verschiedene Mischung der vier Wesensglieder des Menschen, und eines erhält sozusagen die Herrschaft über die anderen und drückt ihnen die Färbung auf. Beherrscht der Ich-Träger die übrigen Glieder des Menschen, so herrscht das cholerische Temperament vor. Herrscht der Astralleib über die anderen Glieder, so sprechen wir dem Menschen ein sanguinisches Temperament zu. Herrscht vor der Äther- oder Lebensleib, so sprechen wir vom phlegmatischen Temperament. Und ist vorherrschend der physische Leib, so handelt es sich um ein melancholisches Temperament. Gerade wie sich Ewiges und Vergängliches miteinander mischen, so tritt das Verhältnis der Glieder zueinander ein. Es ist oft auch schon gesagt worden, wie im physischen Leibe die vier Glieder sich äußerlich ausprägen. Das Ich drückt sich in der Zirkulation des Blutes aus. Deshalb ist beim Choleriker vorherrschend das Blutsystem. Der Astralleib findet seinen physischen Ausdruck im Nervensystem; wir haben deshalb beim Sanguiniker im physischen Leibe tonangebend das Nervensystem. Der Ätherleib drückt sich physisch aus im Drüsensystem; deshalb ist beim Phlegmatiker im physischen Leibe tonangebend das Drüsensystem. Der physische Leib als solcher kommt nur im physischen Leibe zum Ausdruck; deshalb ist der physische Leib beim Melancholiker das äußerlich Tonangebende. In allen Erscheinungen, die uns in den einzelnen Temperamenten entgegentreten, können wir dies sehen.
Beim Choleriker ist vorzugsweise das Ich und das Blutsystem vorherrschend. Dadurch tritt er auf als der Mensch, der sein Ich unter allen Umständen durchsetzen will. Von der Zirkulation des Blutes schreibt sich alles Aggressive des Cholerikers her, alles was mit der starken Willensnatur des Cholerikers zusammenhängt. Im Nervensystem und Astralleib sind die auf- und abwogenden Empfindungen und Gefühle. Nur dadurch, daß diese durch das Ich gebändigt werden, kommt Harmonie und Ordnung hinein. Würde er sie nicht durch sein Ich bändigen, so würden sie auf- und abfluten, ohne daß man bemerken könnte, der Mensch übt irgendeine Herrschaft über sie aus. Der Mensch würde hingegeben sein allem Wogen von Empfindung zu Empfindung, von Bild zu Bild, von Vorstellung zu Vorstellung und so weiter.
Etwas von dem tritt ein, wenn der astralische Leib vorherrscht, also beim Sanguiniker, der in gewisser Weise den auf- und abwogenden Bildern, Empfindungen und Vorstellungen hingegeben ist, da bei ihm der Astralleib und das Nervensystem vorherrschen. Das, was des Menschen Blutzirkulation ist, ist der Bändiger des Nervenlebens. Was tritt ein, wenn ein Mensch blutarm, bleichsüchtig ist, wenn der Bändiger nicht da ist? Dann tritt ein zügelloses Auf- und Abfluten der Bilder; Illusionen, Halluzinationen treten auf. Einen kleinen Anflug davon haben wir beim Sanguiniker. Der Sanguiniker kann nicht bei einem Eindruck verweilen, er kann nicht festhalten an einem Bilde, er haftet nicht mit seinem Interesse an einem Eindruck. Er eilt von Lebenseindruck zu Lebenseindruck, von Wahrnehmung zu Wahrnehmung. Das kann man besonders beim sanguinischen Kinde beobachten; da kann es einem Sorge machen. Leicht ist Interesse da, ein Bild fängt leicht an zu wirken, macht bald einen Eindruck, aber der Eindruck ist bald wieder verschwunden.
Gehen wir jetzt zum phlegmatischen Temperament über! Wir sahen, daß das phlegmatische Temperament dadurch entsteht, daß vorherrschend gemacht ist das, was wir Äther- oder Lebensleib nennen, das, was des Menschen Wachstums- und Lebensvorgänge im Innern regelt. Es kommt das in innerer Behaglichkeit zum Ausdruck. Je mehr der Mensch in seinem Ätherleib lebt, desto mehr ist er in sich selber beschäftigt, und läßt die äußeren Dinge laufen. Er ist in seinem Innern beschäftigt.
Beim Melancholiker haben wir gesehen, daß der physische Leib, also das dichteste Glied der menschlichen Wesenheit, der Herr wird über die anderen. Immer, wenn der dichteste Teil Herr wird, dann fühlt das der Mensch so, daß er nicht Herr ist darüber, daß er ihn nicht handhaben kann. Denn der physische Leib ist das Instrument, das er durch seine höheren Glieder überall beherrschen soll; jetzt aber herrscht dieser physische Leib, setzt dem anderen Widerstand entgegen. Das empfindet der Mensch als Schmerz, Unlust, als die trübselige Stimmung des Melancholikers. Es ist immer ein Aufsteigen von Schmerzen da. Von nichts anderem rührt diese Stimmung her, als daß der physische Leib der innern Behaglichkeit des Ätherleibes, der Beweglichkeit des Astralleibes und der Zielsicherheit des Ichs Widerstände entgegenstellt.
Was wir da sehen als die Mischung der vier Wesensglieder des Menschen, das tritt uns im äußeren Bilde klar und deutlich entgegen. Wenn das Ich vorherrscht, will der Mensch sich gegen alle äußeren Widerstände durchsetzen, will in Erscheinung treten. Es hält dann förmlich die anderen Glieder des Menschen im Wachstum zurück, den Astralleib und den Ätherleib, läßt sie nicht zu ihrem Rechte kommen. Rein äußerlich tritt das einem schon entgegen. Johann Gottlieb Fichte zum Beispiel, der deutsche Choleriker, ist schon äußerlich als solcher kenntlich. Er verriet schon äußerlich deutlich im Wuchs, daß die anderen Wesensglieder zurückgehalten worden sind. Oder ein klassisches Beispiel eines Cholerikers ist Napoleon, der so klein geblieben ist, weil das Ich die anderen Wesensglieder zurückgehalten hat. Es handelt sich nun natürlich nicht darum, daß behauptet wird, der Choleriker sei klein und der Sanguiniker groß. Wir dürfen die Gestalt des Menschen nur mit seinem eignen Wuchs vergleichen. Es kommt darauf an, in welchem Verhältnis zur ganzen Gestalt der Wuchs steht.
Beim Sanguiniker herrscht das Nervensystem, der Astralleib vor. Er wird in seinem in sich beweglichen Leben an den Gliedern arbeiten; er wird auch das äußere Abbild des Menschen so beweglich wie möglich machen. Haben wir beim Choleriker scharf geschnittene Gesichtszüge, so beim Sanguiniker bewegliche, ausdrucksvolle, sich verändernde Gesichtszüge. Sogar in der schlanken Gestalt, im Knochenbau, sehen wir die innere Beweglichkeit des Astralleibes am ganzen Menschen. In den schlanken Muskeln zum Beispiel kommt sie zum Ausdruck. Das ist auch zu sehen in dem, was der Mensch äußerlich darlebt. Auch wer nicht hellsehend ist, kann dem Menschen schon von hinten ansehen, ob er Sanguiniker oder Choleriker ist. Dazu braucht man nicht Geisteswissenschaftler zu sein. Sieht man einen Choleriker gehen, so kann man beobachten, wie er jeden Fuß so setzt, als ob er bei jedem Schritt nicht nur den Boden berühren wolle, sondern als ob der Fuß noch ein Stück in den Boden hineingehen sollte. Beim Sanguiniker dagegen haben wir einen hüpfenden, springenden Gang. Auch feinere Merkmale finden sich in der äußeren Gestalt. Die Innerlichkeit der Ich-Natur, die geschlossene Innerlichkeit des Cholerikers tritt uns entgegen in dem schwarzen Auge des Cholerikers. Sehen Sie sich den Sanguiniker an, bei dem die Ich-Natur nicht so tief gewurzelt ist, bei dem der astralische Leib seine ganze Beweglichkeit ausgießt, da ist das blaue Auge vorherrschend. So könnten viele Merkmale angeführt werden, die das Temperament in der äußeren Erscheinung zeigen.
Das phlegmatische Temperament tritt einem entgegen in der unbeweglichen, teilnahmslosen Physiognomie, in der Fülle des Körpers, besonders in der Ausarbeitung der Fettpartien; denn das ist das, was besonders der Ätherleib ausarbeitet. In alledem tritt uns die innere Behaglichkeit des Phlegmatikers entgegen. Er hat einen schlotternden Gang. Er tritt sozusagen nicht ordentlich auf, setzt sich nicht in Beziehung zu den Dingen. — Und sehen Sie sich den Melancholiker an, wie er zumeist einen vorhängenden Kopf hat, nicht aus sich heraus die Kraft hat, den Nacken zu steifen. Das Auge ist trübe; da ist nicht der Glanz des schwarzen Cholerikerauges. Der Gang ist zwar fest, aber es ist nicht der Gang des Cholerikers, das feste Auftreten des Cholerikers, sondern es ist etwas Schleppend-Festes.
So sehen Sie, wie bedeutsam Geisteswissenschaft zur Lösung dieses Rätsels beitragen kann. Aber nur, wenn man auf die ganze Wirklichkeit geht, zu der auch das Geistige gehört, wenn man nicht bloß bei dem sinnlich Wirklichen bleibt, kann Lebenspraxis folgen aus der Erkenntnis. Deshalb kann nur aus Geisteswissenschaft diese Erkenntnis fließen, so daß es zum Heile der ganzen Menschheit und des einzelnen ist. Bei der Erziehung muß sehr genau auf die Art des Temperamentes geachtet werden, denn bei den Kindern ist es besonders von Wichtigkeit, dieses sich entwickelnde Temperament leiten und lenken zu können. Aber auch später bei der Selbsterziehung ist es noch wichtig für den Menschen. Bei dem, der sich selbst erziehen will, ist es wertvoll, daß er achte auf das, was sich in seinem Temperamente ausdrückt.
Ich habe Ihnen hier die Grundtypen angeführt. So rein kommen sie im Leben natürlich nicht vor. Jeder Mensch hat nur den Grundton eines Temperamentes, daneben hat er von den anderen. Napoleon hatte zum Beispiel viel Phlegmatisches in sich, obwohl er ein Choleriker war. Wenn wir das Leben praktisch beherrschen, so kommt es darauf an, daß wir auf unsere Seele dasjenige wirken lassen können, was sich typisch ausdrückt. Wie wichtig es ist, das sieht man am allerbesten, wenn man bedenkt, daß die Temperamente ausarten können, daß das, was uns in der Einseitigkeit entgegentreten kann, auch ausarten kann. Was wäre die Welt ohne die Temperamente, wenn die Menschen nur ein Temperament hätten! Das Langweiligste, was Sie sich denken könnten! Langweilig wäre die Welt ohne die Temperamente, nicht nur im sittlichen, sondern auch im höheren Sinne. Alle Mannigfaltigkeit, Schönheit und aller Reichtum des Lebens sind nur möglich durch die Temperamente. Bei der Erziehung handelt es sich nicht darum, die Temperamente auszugleichen, zu nivellieren, sondern es handelt sich darum, sie in die richtigen Geleise zu bringen. Aber in jedem Temperamente liegt eine kleine und eine große Gefahr der Ausartung. Beim cholerischen Menschen liegt in der Jugend die Gefahr vor, daß ein solcher Mensch durch Zornwütigkeit, ohne daß er sich beherrschen kann, sein Ich eingeprägt erhält. Das ist die kleine Gefahr. Die große Gefahr ist die Narrheit, die aus ihrem Ich heraus irgendein einzelnes Ziel verfolgen will. Beim sanguinischen Temperamente ist die kleine Gefahr die, daß der Mensch in Flatterhaftigkeit verfällt. Die große Gefahr ist, daß das Auf- und Abwogen der Empfindungen in Irrsinn einmündet. Die kleine Gefahr des Phlegmatikers ist die Interesselosigkeit gegenüber der äußeren Welt; die große Gefahr ist die Idiotie, der Stumpfsinn. Die kleine Gefahr beim melancholischen Temperament ist der Trübsinn, die Möglichkeit, daß der Mensch nicht herauskommt über das, was im eignen Innern aufsteigt. Die große Gefahr ist der Wahnsinn.
Wenn wir uns das alles vorhalten, so werden wir sehen, daß in dem Lenken und Leiten der Temperamente eine bedeutsame Aufgabe der Lebenspraxis liegt. Aber um die Temperamente zu leiten, ist der Grundsatz zu beachten, daß immer mit dem gerechnet werden muß, was da ist, nicht mit dem, was nicht da ist. Hat ein Kind ein sanguinisches Temperament, so können wir ihm nicht dadurch in der Entwickelung weiterhelfen, daß wir Interesse hineinprügeln wollen; man kann nicht ihm einbleuen etwas anderes, als was eben sein sanguinisches Temperament ist. Wir sollen nicht fragen: Was fehlt dem Kinde, was sollen wir ihm einprügeln? — sondern wir sollen fragen: Was hat ein sanguinisches Kind in der Regel? Und damit müssen wir rechnen. In der Regel werden wir eines finden, ein Interesse kann immer erregt werden; das Interesse für irgendeine Persönlichkeit, wenn das Kind auch noch so flatterhaft ist. Wenn wir die richtige Persönlichkeit nur sind, oder wenn wir ihm die richtige Persönlichkeit beigesellen können, so tritt das Interesse schon auf. Nur auf dem Umwege der Liebe zu einer Persönlichkeit kann beim sanguinischen Kinde Interesse auftreten. Mehr als jedes andere Temperament braucht das sanguinische Kind Liebe zu einer Persönlichkeit. Alles muß getan werden, daß bei einem solchen Kinde die Liebe erwache. Liebe ist das Zauberwort. Wir müssen sehen, was da ist. Wir müssen sehen, allerlei Dinge in die Umgebung des Kindes zu bringen, von denen man doch bemerkt hat, daß es tieferes Interesse daran hat. Diese Dinge muß man zum Sanguiniker sprechen lassen, muß sie auf das Kind wirken lassen, muß sie ihm dann wieder entziehen, damit das Kind sie wieder begehrt, und sie ihm von neuem geben. Man muß sie so auf das Kind wirken lassen, wie die Gegenstände der gewöhnlichen Welt auf das sanguinische Temperament wirken.
Beim cholerischen Kinde gibt es auch einen Umweg, durch den die Entwickelung immer zu leiten ist. Hier heißt das, was die Erziehung sicher leitet: Achtung und Schätzung einer Autorität. Hier handelt es sich nicht um ein Beliebtmachen durch die persönlichen Eigenschaften, wie beim sanguinischen Kinde, sondern es kommt darauf an, daß das cholerische Kind immer den Glauben hat, daß der Erzieher die Sache versteht. Man muß zeigen, daß man in den Dingen Bescheid weiß, die um das Kind vorgehen. Man darf sich nicht eine Blöße geben. Das Kind muß immer den Glauben erhalten, daß der Erzieher die Sache kann, sonst hat er sofort verspielt. Ist Liebe zur Persönlichkeit das Zaubermittel beim sanguinischen Kinde, so Achtung und Schätzung des Wertes einer Person das Zauberwort beim cholerischen Kinde. Ihm müssen besonders solche Gegenstände in den Weg geführt werden, die ihm Widerstand entgegensetzen. Widerstände, Schwierigkeiten müssen ihm in den Weg gelegt werden. Man muß versuchen, ihm das Leben nicht so leicht zu machen.
Das melancholische Kind ist nicht leicht zu leiten. Hier aber gibt es wieder ein Zaubermittel. Wie beim sanguinischen Kinde Liebe zur Persönlichkeit, beim cholerischen Schätzung und Achtung des Wertes des Erziehers die Zauberworte sind, so ist beim melancholischen Kinde das, worauf es ankommt, daß die Erzieher Persönlichkeiten sind, die im Leben in einer gewissen Weise geprüft sind, die aus einem geprüften Leben heraus handeln und sprechen. Das Kind muß fühlen, daß der Erzieher wirkliche Schmerzen durchgemacht habe. Lassen Sie das Kind merken an allen den hunderterlei Dingen des Lebens die eigenen Lebensschicksale. Das Mitfühlen mit dem Schicksale dessen, der um einen ist, wirkt hier erziehend. Auch hier beim Melancholiker muß man rechnen mit dem, was er hat. Er hat Schmerzfähigkeit, Unlustfähigkeit; die sitzen in seinem Innern, die können wir nicht ausprügeln. Aber wir können sie ablenken. Lassen wir ihn gerade im Außenleben berechtigten Schmerz, berechtigtes Leid erfahren, damit er kennenlernt, daß es Dinge gibt, an denen er Schmerz erleben kann. Das ist es, worauf es ankommt. Nicht soll man ihn zerstreuen: dadurch verhärten Sie seine Trübsinnigkeit, seinen Schmerz im Innern. Er soll sehen, daß es Dinge im Leben gibt, an denen man Schmerz erfahren kann. Wenn man es auch nicht zu weit treiben darf, so kommt es doch darauf an, daß an den äußeren Dingen Schmerz erregt wird, der ihn ablenkt.
Der Phlegmatiker darf nicht einsam aufwachsen. Wenn es bei den anderen schon gut ist, Gespielen zu haben, so ist das besonders beim Phlegmatiker der Fall. Er muß Gespielen haben mit den mannigfaltigsten Interessen. Er kann erzogen werden durch das Miterleben der Interessen und möglichst vieler Interessen der anderen Persönlichkeiten. Wenn er sich gleichgültig verhält gegen das, was in der Umgebung ist, so kann sein Interesse angefacht werden dadurch, daß die Interessen der Gespielen, der Gesellen auf ihn wirken. Kommt es beim melancholischen Kinde auf das Miterleben des Schicksals einer anderen Persönlichkeit an, so beim phlegmatischen auf das Miterleben der Interessen seiner Gespielen. Nicht Dinge als solche wirken auf den Phlegmatiker; aber wenn sich die Dinge in anderen Menschen spiegeln, dann spiegeln sich diese Interessen in der Seele des phlegmatischen Kindes. Dann sollen wir besonders darauf sehen, daß wir Gegenstände in seine Umgebung bringen, Ereignisse in seiner Nähe geschehen lassen, wo das Phlegma am Platze ist. Man muß das Phlegma auf die richtigen Gegenstände lenken, denen gegenüber man phlegmatisch sein darf.
So sehen wir bei diesen Erziehungsgrundsätzen, wie die Geisteswissenschaft eingreift in die praktischen Fragen des Lebens. Auch die Selbsterziehung kann der Mensch hier in die Hand nehmen. Nicht dadurch kommt zum Beispiel der Sanguiniker zum Ziele, daß er sich sagt: Du hast ein sanguinisches Temperament, das mußt du dir abgewöhnen. Der Verstand, direkt angewandt, ist auf diesem Gebiete oft ein Hindernis. Indirekt vermag er dagegen viel. Der Verstand ist hier die allerschwächste Seelenkraft. Bei stärkeren Seelenkräften, wie es die Temperamente sind, vermag der Verstand direkt sehr wenig, kann nur indirekt wirken. Der Mensch muß mit seinem Sanguinismus rechnen; Selbstermahnungen fruchten nicht. Es kommt darauf an, den Sanguinismus am rechten Orte zu zeigen. Wir können uns durch den Verstand Erlebnisse schaffen, für die das kurze Interesse des Sanguinikers berechtigt ist. Wenn wir also solche Verhältnisse auch noch so sehr im Kleinen herbeiführen, bei denen das kurze Interesse am Platze ist, so wird ‚es schon hervorrufen, was nötig ist. Beim cholerischen Temperament, da ist es gut, solche Gegenstände zu wählen, durch den Verstand solche Verhältnisse herbeizuführen, bei denen es uns nichts hilft, daß wir toben, wo wir durch unser Toben uns selbst ad absurdum führen. Das melancholische Temperament soll nicht an den Schmerzen und Leiden des Lebens vorbeigehen, sondern soll sie gerade aufsuchen, soll mitleiden, damit sein Schmerz abgelenkt werde an die richtigen Gegenstände und Ereignisse. Sind wir Phlegmatiker, die keine Interessen haben, so ist es gut, daß wir uns möglichst viel mit recht uninteressanten Gegenständen beschäftigen, uns mit recht viel Quellen der Langweile umgeben, daß wir uns gründlich langweilen. Dann werden wir uns gründlich kurieren von unserem Phlegma, es uns gründlich abgewöhnen. So rechnet man mit dem, was da ist, und nicht mit dem, was nicht da ist.
Wenn wir so mit Lebensweisheit uns durchdringen, dann wird sich uns das Grundrätsel des Lebens, das uns der einzelne Mensch bietet, lösen können. Nicht dadurch ist es zu lösen, daß wir abstrakte Vorstellungen und Begriffe hinpfahlen. Das allgemeine Menschenrätsel kann man in Bildern lösen. Dieses einzelne Rätsel ist nicht durch das Hinpfahlen der abstrakten Vorstellungen und Begriffe zu lösen, sondern wir müssen jedem einzelnen Menschen so entgegentreten, daß wir ihm unmittelbares Verständnis entgegenbringen. Das kann man aber nur, wenn man weiß, was im Grunde der Seele ist. Die Geisteswissenschaft ist etwas, das langsam und allmählich sich eingießt in unsere ganze Seele, so daß sie die Seele nicht nur für die großen Zusammenhänge empfänglich macht, sondern auch für die feinen Einzelheiten. Bei der Geisteswissenschaft ist es so, daß, wenn eine Seele der anderen gegenübersteht, und diese fordert Liebe, so wird ihr die Liebe entgegengebracht. Wenn sie etwas anderes fordert, so wird sie ihr das andere geben. So schaffen wir durch solche wahre Lebensweisheit soziale Untergründe. Das heißt in jedem Augenblicke ein Rätsel lösen. Nicht durch Predigt, Ermahnung, Moralpauken wirkt Anthroposophie, sondern dadurch, daß sie einen sozialen Untergrund schafft, in welchem der Mensch den Menschen erkennen kann. Die Geisteswissenschaft ist der Untergrund des Lebens, und die Liebe ist die Blüte und Frucht eines solchen von der Geisteswissenschaft angeregten Lebens. Daher darf die Geisteswissenschaft sagen, daß sie etwas gründet, das einen Boden ergibt für das, was das schönste Ziel der menschlichen Bestimmung ist: die echte, wahre Menschenliebe.
The Secret of Human Temperaments
It has often been emphasized that the greatest mystery of humanity is humanity itself. Basically, all deeper natural science seeks to achieve its ultimate goal by summarizing all natural processes in order to understand external laws, and all Spiritual Science seeks the sources of existence in order to understand and solve the nature and destiny of humanity. If it is therefore unquestionably true that, in general, the greatest mystery of man is man himself, then on the other hand it must be emphasized what each of us feels and senses in every encounter with other people, namely that each individual human being is basically a mystery to others and, in most cases, to himself. Today we are not dealing with the general mysteries of existence, but with the mystery that is no less significant for life, which every human being presents us with at every encounter. For how infinitely different are human beings in their individual, deepest inner selves! One need only utter the word “temperament,” which is the basis of our lecture today, to see that there are as many mysteries as there are human beings. Within the basic types, the basic characteristics, we have such diversity and variety among people that one can well say that within the peculiar basic mood of the human being, which is called temperament, the peculiar mystery of existence is expressed. And where the mysteries intervene in the immediate practice of life, the basic coloring of the human being, the temperament, plays a role. When we encounter a person, we feel that something of this basic mood confronts us. Therefore, we can only hope that Spiritual Science has something necessary to say about the nature of temperaments.
One feels that human temperaments belong to the external, for even if one must admit that temperaments spring from within, they nevertheless express themselves in everything that we see externally in human beings. However, the mystery of human beings cannot be solved by observing nature externally. Only when we learn what Spiritual Science has to say about human beings can we approach the peculiar coloring of the human being. We learn that in human beings we first have that through which they place themselves in their line of inheritance. They display the characteristics they have inherited from their father, mother, grandparents, and so on. They in turn pass these characteristics on to their descendants. Because human beings are placed in a line of generations, because they have ancestors, they have certain characteristics. But what they inherit from their fathers gives us only one side of the human being. Connected with this is what human beings bring with them from the spiritual world, what they add to what their father and mother, what their ancestors can give them. Something else is connected with what flows down in the stream of generations, something that passes from life to life, from existence to existence. On the one hand, we say: Man has this or that from his ancestors. But when we see a person develop from childhood, we see how the fruit of previous lives develops from the core of their nature, something they could never have inherited from their ancestors. We know the law of reincarnation, the succession of life cycles. This is nothing other than the special case of a general universal law.
It does not seem so paradoxical to us when we consider the following: Let us look at a lifeless mineral, a rock crystal. It has a regular shape. When it perishes, it leaves nothing of its form behind that could remain and be transferred to other rock crystals. The new crystal inherits nothing of its form. If we ascend from the world of minerals to the world of plants, it becomes clear to us that a plant cannot arise from the same law as in the case of rock crystal. A plant can only exist if it is derived from its ancestral plant. Here, the form is preserved and transferred to the other entity. If we ascend into the animal world, we find how a development of the species takes place. We see how the nineteenth century in particular saw its greatest achievements in discovering this development of the species. We see how not only does one form emerge from another, but how every young animal in its mother's womb once again goes through the earlier forms, the lower stages of development, that its ancestors had. In animals, we have an enhancement of the species.
In humans, we have not only an enhancement of the species, a development of the genus, but also a development of individuality. What humans acquire in the course of their lives through education and experience is no more lost than the ancestral line of animals. A time will come when the essence of human beings will be traced back to a previous existence. It will be recognized that the human being is the fruit of a previous existence. The resistance that this teaching must overcome will be overcome, just as the opinion of scholars of earlier centuries that living things could arise from non-living things, for example from river mud, was overcome. Three hundred years ago, natural science believed that animals could develop from river mud, i.e., from non-living matter. It was an Italian natural scientist, Francesco Redi, who first asserted that living things could only arise from living things. He was attacked for this teaching; he almost suffered the same fate as Giordano Bruno. Today, burning people is no longer in vogue. Anyone who comes forward with a new truth today, anyone who, for example, wants to trace the spiritual back to the spiritual, will not exactly be burned at the stake, but they will be considered a fool. A time will come when it will be considered nonsense to believe that human beings live only once, that there is nothing lasting that connects with inherited characteristics.
Now the big question arises: How can that which comes from completely different worlds, which must seek out a father and mother, unite with the physical body, how can it clothe itself in the physical characteristics through which the human being is placed in the line of inheritance? How does the union of the two currents take place, the spiritual-soul current into which the human being is placed through reincarnation, and the physical current of the hereditary line? A balance must be created. As the two currents unite, one current colors the other. They color each other. Just as the colors blue and yellow unite in green, so the two currents in the human being unite to form what is called temperament. Here, the soul of the human being and the natural inherited characteristics shine forth. In the middle stands what temperament is, between what connects the human being to their ancestral line and what they bring with them from their previous incarnations. Temperament balances the eternal with the transitory. This balance is achieved by what we have come to know as the members of human nature relating to each other in a very specific way.
We know this human being as he appears to us in life, a confluence of these two currents; we know him as a four-membered being. First comes the physical body, which human beings share with the mineral world. As the first supersensible member, the etheric body is incorporated, which remains united with the physical body throughout life; only in death do the two separate. The third member is the astral body, the bearer of instincts, drives, passions, desires, and all the feelings and mental images that ebb and flow. The highest member of the human being, that which makes him stand out above all other beings, is the bearer of the human ego, which gives him the power of self-consciousness in such a mysterious but also such an obvious way. These four members have come before us in the human being.
Now, because two currents flow together in the human being when he enters the physical world, a different mixture of the four members of the human being arises, and one, so to speak, gains dominion over the others and imposes its coloring on them. If the ego carrier dominates the other members of the human being, the choleric temperament prevails. If the astral body dominates the other members, we say that the person has a sanguine temperament. If the etheric or life body dominates, we speak of a phlegmatic temperament. And if the physical body is dominant, we have a melancholic temperament. Just as the eternal and the transitory mix together, so the relationship between the members comes into being. It has often been said how the four members manifest themselves externally in the physical body. The ego expresses itself in the circulation of the blood. That is why the blood system is predominant in the choleric person. The astral body finds its physical expression in the nervous system; that is why the nervous system sets the tone in the physical body of the sanguine person. The etheric body expresses itself physically in the glandular system; this is why the glandular system dominates the physical body of a phlegmatic person. The physical body as such is only expressed in the physical body; this is why the physical body dominates the external appearance of a melancholic person. We can see this in all the manifestations we encounter in the individual temperaments.
In choleric people, the ego and the blood system are predominant. As a result, they appear as people who want to assert their ego under all circumstances. Everything aggressive about choleric people, everything related to their strong will, stems from the circulation of the blood. The nervous system and astral body contain the ebbing and flowing sensations and feelings. Only when these are restrained by the ego can harmony and order be achieved. If the ego did not restrain them, they would ebb and flow without any apparent control over them. The person would be at the mercy of every surge of feeling, from sensation to sensation, from image to image, from mental image to mental image, and so on.
Something of this happens when the astral body predominates, as in the case of the sanguine person, who is in a certain sense given over to the ebbing and flowing of images, sensations, and mental images, since the astral body and the nervous system predominate in him. What is the blood circulation in humans is the tamer of the nervous life. What happens when a person is anaemic, pale, when the tamer is not there? Then there is an unrestrained ebb and flow of images; illusions and hallucinations occur. We see a small hint of this in the sanguine person. The sanguine person cannot dwell on an impression, cannot hold on to an image, does not cling to an impression with their interest. They rush from one life impression to another, from one perception to another. This can be observed particularly in sanguine children; it can be a cause for concern. Interest is easily aroused, an image easily begins to have an effect, soon makes an impression, but the impression soon disappears again.
Let us now move on to the phlegmatic temperament! We have seen that the phlegmatic temperament arises from the predominance of what we call the etheric or life body, which regulates the human being's internal growth and life processes. This is expressed in inner comfort. The more a person lives in their etheric body, the more they are preoccupied with themselves and let external things run their course. They are preoccupied with their inner life.
In the melancholic, we have seen that the physical body, the densest member of the human being, becomes dominant over the others. Whenever the densest part becomes dominant, the person feels that they are not in control of it, that they cannot manage it. For the physical body is the instrument that they should control everywhere through their higher members; but now this physical body dominates, resisting the others. The person experiences this as pain, displeasure, as the melancholic mood. There is always an increase in pain. This mood arises from nothing other than the physical body opposing the inner comfort of the etheric body, the mobility of the astral body, and the purposefulness of the ego.
What we see here as the mixture of the four elements of the human being is clearly evident in the outer image. When the ego predominates, the human being wants to assert itself against all external resistance, wants to come to the fore. It then literally holds back the other elements of the human being in their growth, the astral body and the etheric body, and does not allow them to come into their own. This is already apparent from a purely external point of view. Johann Gottlieb Fichte, for example, the German choleric, is already recognizable as such from his outward appearance. His stature clearly revealed that the other elements of his being had been held back. Or a classic example of a choleric is Napoleon, who remained so small because the ego held back the other elements of his being. Of course, this is not to say that choleric people are small and sanguine people are large. We can only compare a person's physique with their own stature. What matters is the relationship between stature and overall physique.
In the sanguine person, the nervous system, the astral body, predominates. In his active life, he will work on his limbs; he will also make the outer image of the human being as mobile as possible. Whereas the choleric person has sharply cut features, the sanguine person has mobile, expressive, changing features. Even in the slender figure, in the bone structure, we see the inner mobility of the astral body in the whole person. It is expressed, for example, in the slender muscles. This can also be seen in what the person expresses outwardly. Even those who are not clairvoyant can tell from behind whether a person is sanguine or choleric. You don't need to be a spiritual scientist to do this. When you see a choleric person walking, you can observe how they place each foot as if they not only want to touch the ground with every step, but as if their foot should go a little way into the ground. With a sanguine person, on the other hand, we see a bouncing, jumping gait. More subtle characteristics can also be found in the external appearance. The inwardness of the ego nature, the closed inwardness of the choleric person, is reflected in the black eyes of the choleric person. Look at the sanguine person, in whom the ego nature is not so deeply rooted, in whom the astral body pours out all its mobility, and you will see that blue eyes predominate. Many characteristics could be cited that reveal temperament in outward appearance.
The phlegmatic temperament is revealed in an immobile, impassive physiognomy, in the fullness of the body, especially in the development of fatty areas, for this is what the etheric body particularly develops. In all this, we encounter the inner comfort of the phlegmatic person. They have a shuffling gait. They do not, so to speak, walk properly, do not relate to things. — And look at the melancholic person, how they usually have a drooping head, do not have the strength to stiffen their neck. Their eyes are dull; they lack the sparkle of the black eyes of the choleric person. Their gait is firm, but it is not the gait of the choleric person, the firm gait of the choleric person, but rather something slow and steady.
So you see how significantly Spiritual Science can contribute to solving this riddle. But only if one approaches the whole of reality, which also includes the spiritual, and does not remain merely with the sensory reality, can practical life follow from knowledge. Therefore, this knowledge can only flow from Spiritual Science, so that it is for the good of all humanity and of the individual. In education, very close attention must be paid to the type of temperament, because it is particularly important in children to be able to guide and direct this developing temperament. But it is also important for people later on in their self-education. For those who want to educate themselves, it is valuable to pay attention to what is expressed in their temperament.
I have listed the basic types here. Of course, they do not occur in such pure form in life. Every person has only the basic tone of one temperament, but also has elements of the others. Napoleon, for example, had a lot of phlegmatic qualities in him, even though he was a choleric. If we want to master life in a practical way, it is important that we allow what is typically expressed to have an effect on our soul. The importance of this can best be seen when we consider that temperaments can degenerate, that what can confront us in our one-sidedness can also degenerate. What would the world be without temperaments, if people had only one temperament! The most boring thing you could imagine! The world would be boring without temperaments, not only in a moral sense, but also in a higher sense. All the diversity, beauty, and richness of life are only possible through temperaments. Education is not about balancing or leveling temperaments, but about putting them on the right track. But in every temperament there is a small and a great danger of degeneration. In the case of the choleric person, the danger in youth is that such a person will be marked by anger, without being able to control themselves. That is the small danger. The great danger is the folly that wants to pursue some single goal out of their ego. In the case of the sanguine temperament, the small danger is that the person will fall into flightiness. The great danger is that the ups and downs of their feelings will lead to insanity. The small danger for phlegmatic people is a lack of interest in the outside world; the great danger is idiocy, dullness. The small danger for melancholic people is gloominess, the possibility that they will not be able to rise above what arises within themselves. The great danger is madness.
If we keep all this in mind, we will see that guiding and directing the temperaments is an important task in practical life. But in order to guide the temperaments, we must observe the principle that we must always reckon with what is there, not with what is not there. If a child has a sanguine temperament, we cannot help them in their development by trying to beat interest into them; we cannot drum into them anything other than what their sanguine temperament is. We should not ask: What is the child lacking, what should we beat into them? — but rather we should ask: What does a sanguine child usually have? And we must reckon with that. As a rule, we will find that interest can always be aroused; interest in some personality, no matter how flighty the child may be. If we are the right personality, or if we can associate the right personality with them, interest will arise. Only through the detour of love for a personality can interest arise in a sanguine child. More than any other temperament, the sanguine child needs love for a personality. Everything must be done to awaken love in such a child. Love is the magic word. We must see what is there. We must see to it that all kinds of things are brought into the child's environment that we have noticed it has a deeper interest in. These things must be allowed to speak to the sanguine child, must be allowed to have an effect on the child, must then be withdrawn so that the child desires them again, and must be given to the child anew. They must be allowed to have the same effect on the child as the objects of the ordinary world have on the sanguine temperament.
With the choleric child, there is also a detour through which development must always be guided. Here, what guides education reliably is respect and appreciation for authority. This is not a matter of making oneself popular through personal qualities, as with the sanguine child, but rather of ensuring that the choleric child always believes that the educator understands the matter. One must show that one is knowledgeable about the things that concern the child. One must not expose oneself to ridicule. The child must always maintain the belief that the educator knows what they are doing, otherwise they will immediately lose their influence. If love for the personality is the magic formula for sanguine children, then respect and appreciation for the value of a person is the magic word for choleric children. They must be presented with objects that offer them resistance. Resistance and difficulties must be placed in their path. One must try not to make life too easy for them.
The melancholic child is not easy to guide. But here, too, there is a magic formula. Just as love for the personality is the magic word for the sanguine child and appreciation and respect for the value of the educator is the magic word for the choleric child, so for the melancholic child it is important that the educators are personalities who have been tested in life in a certain way, who act and speak from a tested life. The child must feel that the educator has gone through real pain. Let the child notice its own life destinies in all the hundreds of things in life. Empathy with the fate of those around us has an educational effect here. Here, too, with the melancholic child, we must take into account what it has. It has the capacity for pain, the capacity for displeasure; these are deep within it, and we cannot beat them out of it. But we can distract them. Let them experience justified pain and justified suffering in their external life, so that they learn that there are things that can cause them pain. That is what matters. You should not distract them: this will only harden their gloominess, their inner pain. They should see that there are things in life that can cause pain. Although one should not go too far, it is important that external things cause pain that distracts him.
The phlegmatic child must not grow up lonely. While it is good for other children to have playmates, this is especially true for the phlegmatic child. They must have playmates with a wide variety of interests. They can be educated by experiencing the interests and as many interests as possible of other personalities. If they are indifferent to what is going on around them, their interest can be stimulated by the influence of the interests of their playmates and companions. If it is important for the melancholic child to experience the fate of another personality, then it is important for the phlegmatic child to experience the interests of his playmates. Things as such do not have an effect on the phlegmatic child, but when things are reflected in other people, these interests are reflected in the soul of the phlegmatic child. Then we should take special care to bring objects into his environment and allow events to happen in his vicinity where phlegm is appropriate. Phlegm must be directed toward the right objects, toward which one may be phlegmatic.
Thus, in these educational principles, we see how Spiritual Science intervenes in the practical questions of life. People can also take self-education into their own hands here. For example, the sanguine person does not achieve their goal by saying to themselves: You have a sanguine temperament, you must break this habit. The intellect, applied directly, is often an obstacle in this area. Indirectly, however, it can achieve a great deal. The intellect is the weakest soul force here. With stronger soul forces, such as the temperaments, the intellect can do very little directly and can only work indirectly. People must reckon with their sanguine nature; self-admonitions are fruitless. It is important to show sanguine nature in the right place. We can use our intellect to create experiences that justify the sanguine person's short-lived interest. So if we bring about such circumstances, even on a small scale, in which short-lived interest is appropriate, this will bring about what is necessary. With the choleric temperament, it is good to choose such objects, to use the intellect to bring about such circumstances in which it does not help us to rage, where our raging leads us to absurdity. The melancholic temperament should not ignore the pains and sufferings of life, but should seek them out, should sympathize, so that its pain is diverted to the right objects and events. If we are phlegmatic people who have no interests, it is good to occupy ourselves as much as possible with rather uninteresting objects, to surround ourselves with many sources of boredom, to thoroughly bore ourselves. Then we will thoroughly cure ourselves of our phlegmatic nature and thoroughly break the habit. In this way, we reckon with what is there and not with what is not there.
If we imbue ourselves with such wisdom, then we will be able to solve the fundamental mystery of life that each individual human being presents us with. It cannot be solved by hammering out abstract mental images and concepts. The general human mystery can be solved in images. This individual mystery cannot be solved by hammering out abstract mental images and concepts, but we must approach each individual human being in such a way that we offer them immediate understanding. However, this is only possible if we know what is at the core of the soul. Spiritual Science is something that slowly and gradually pours into our whole soul, so that it makes the soul receptive not only to the big picture, but also to the fine details. In Spiritual Science, when one soul faces another and demands love, love is given to it. If it demands something else, it will be given that. In this way, we create social foundations through such true wisdom of life. This means solving a puzzle at every moment. Anthroposophy does not work through preaching, admonition, or moralizing, but by creating a social foundation in which human beings can recognize each other. Spiritual Science is the foundation of life, and love is the blossom and fruit of such a life inspired by Spiritual Science. Therefore, Spiritual Science can say that it establishes something that provides a basis for what is the most beautiful goal of human destiny: genuine, true love for humanity.