Donate books to help fund our work. Learn more→

The Rudolf Steiner Archive

a project of Steiner Online Library, a public charity

Spiritual Science and Speech
GA 59

20 January 1910, Berlin

It is fascinating to study from the point of view of Spiritual Science the different ways in which the being of man expresses itself,—that is to say Spiritual Science in our sense of the term. We can obtain a general survey of human life in its different phases and aspects by studying them as we have done in the course of these lectures.

To-day we shall consider the expression of the spirit of man in speech, and in the next lecture, under the title of ‘Laughter and Weeping,’ an aspect of man’s power of expression which is indeed bound up with speech and yet fundamentally different from it.

The whole being of man, his whole significance and dignity, is bound up with speech. Our innermost life, all our feelings and will-impulses flow out from us, linking us to our fellow-men through speech which enables us to expand and radiate into our environment. On the other hand, those who dare to penetrate into the inner life of some great individuality may feel that human speech is a kind of tyrant that exercises its power over the inner life. We are indeed aware, if we are only willing to admit it, that word and speech can only inadequately express the feelings, the thoughts, and all the intimate and individual colouring of everything that passes through the soul. We also realise that our own native language compels us to a definite kind of thinking. Do we not all realise how dependent our thinking is upon our speech? In more senses than one our concepts attach themselves to words, and an imperfectly developed man may easily mistake the word, or what the word infuses into him, for the concept. This is why so many people are incapable of building up a conceptual world of their own transcending what is imparted by the words current around them. We must surely realise that the character of a whole people speaking a common language is in a certain sense dependent on that language. Anyone who studies the more intimate connections between the characteristics of race and speech knows to what an extent the way a man is able to express the content of his soul in sound reacts upon the strength and weakness of his character, upon his temperament, indeed upon his whole outlook on life. Those who have knowledge will be able to learn a great deal about the character of a people from the configuration of their particular speech or language. Since, however, a language is common to a whole people, the individual is dependent on the community and on its average level. The individual is subject, as it were, to the tyranny and power of the community. But when we realise how our individual spiritual life on the one hand, and the common spiritual life on the other, are expressed in speech, the so-called ‘Mystery of Speech’ assumes great significance.

It is certainly possible to understand something of the life of the soul by observing how a man expresses himself in words. The mystery of speech and its origin and development through the different epochs has always been a problem in certain domains of Science, but it cannot be said that specialists in our age have been very successful in fathoming this mystery. To-day, therefore, we shall try in a somewhat aphoristic manner, to throw light on the development of speech and its connection with the human being, from the point of view of Spiritual Science.

What at first seems so mysterious when we designate an object or a process by a word, is how the particular sound-combination in the word or sentence is related to what comes forth from us, and how it expresses the phenomenon as a word. External Science has made many attempts to bring the most varied experiences together in different combinations, but this mode of observation has been felt to be unsatisfactory. There is one question which is really so simple, and yet so difficult to answer: how was it that man, confronted with something in the external world, produced, as from out of himself, an echo of the particular object or process in a definite sound?

Some people thought this question quite simple. They imagined, for instance, that speech-formation took its start from the fact that man heard some external sound, either produced by animals, or caused by the impact of one object against another, and that he then imitated the sound through the inner faculty of speech, like a child, who, hearing the ‘bow-wow’ of a dog, imitates this sound and calls the dog ‘bow-wow.’ Word-formation of this kind may be called ‘onomatopoeia,’ an imitation of the sound. This kind of imitation was the basis of the original sound and word formation,—at least so it was stated by those who regarded the matter from this particular point of view. The question is of course still unanswered as to how man comes to give names to dumb entities from which no sound proceeds. How does he ascend from the sound uttered by an animal or caused by an occurrence which can be heard, to one which cannot? Max Müller, the famous Philologist, ridiculed this, calling it the ‘bow-wow’ theory, because he realised what an unsatisfactory piece of speculation it was. He advanced another theory in its place which his opponents in turn called ‘mystical,’ though they used the word in an unjustifiable sense. Max Müller really means that every single thing contains something of the nature of sound within itself; everything has sound in a certain sense, not only a glass we let fall, or a bell we strike, but every single thing. Man’s capacity to set up a relationship between his soul and the inner sound-essence of the object calls forth in the soul the power to express this inner sound-essence; the inner essence of the bell is expressed in some way when we ‘feel again’ its tone in the ‘ding-dong.’ Max Müller's opponents ridiculed him in return by calling his the ‘ding-dong’ theory. However many more combinations of this kind we might care to enumerate,—and they have been evolved with great diligence,—we should find that the attempts to characterise in this external way what man causes to resound like an echo from his soul to meet the essence of things, must always be unsatisfactory. We must, in effect, penetrate more deeply into the whole inner being of man.

According to Spiritual Science man is a highly complex being. As he stands before us he has in the first place his physical body, which contains substances which are also found in the mineral world. As a second, higher member he has the etheric, or life body. Then he has the member which is the vehicle of joy and suffering, pleasure and pain, instinct, desire and passion,—the astral body. This astral body is, to Spiritual Science, as real a part of man's constitution as anything the eyes can see and the hands touch. The fourth member of the human being has been spoken of as the bearer of the Ego, and man's evolution, at its present stage, consists in working, from his Ego outwards, as it were, at the transformation of the other three members of his being. It has also been indicated that in a far-off future the human Ego will have transformed these three members to such an extent that nothing will remain of what Nature, or the spiritual powers existing in Nature, have made of them.

The astral body, the vehicle of pleasure and pain, joy and suffering, of all ebbing and flowing ideas, feelings and perceptions, came into existence in the first place without our co-operation,—that is to say, without the activity of our Ego. The Ego works upon the astral body, purifying and refining it, gaining mastery over its qualities and activities. If the Ego has worked but little on the astral body, man is the slave of his instincts and desires. If, however, the Ego has refined the instincts and desires into virtues, has co-ordinated phantasmal thinking by the guiding threads of logic, a portion of the astral body is transformed. Whereas formerly it was not worked upon by the Ego, it has become a product of the Ego. When the Ego carries out this work consciously,—as it is beginning to do in human evolution to-day,—we call the part of the astral body which has been consciously transformed from out of the Ego, ‘Spirit Self,’ or ‘Manas,’ to use a term of Oriental Philosophy. When the Ego works in a different and more intense way, not only upon the astral body, but also upon the etheric body, we call the part of the etheric body which has been thus transmuted the ‘Life Spirit’ or ‘Budhi’ in Eastern terminology. And finally, although this belongs to the far-off future, when the Ego has become so strong that it transmutes the physical body and regulates its laws,—in such a way that the Ego is everywhere controlling all that lives in the physical body,—we give the name of ‘Spirit Man’ to that part of the physical body thus under the rulership of the Ego; and since this work begins with a regulation of the breathing process, the oriental term is ‘Atman,’ from which the German ‘atmen’ (to breathe) is derived.

In the first place, then, we have man as a fourfold being, consisting of physical body, etheric body, astral body and Ego. And just as we may speak of three of the members of our being as being products of the past, so may we speak of three other members which as a result of the work of the Ego will gradually unfold in the future. Thus we speak of a sevenfold nature of the human being, adding Spirit Self, Life Spirit and Spirit Man to physical body, etheric body, astral body and Ego. But although we regard these three higher principles as belonging to a far-off future of human evolution, it must be said that in a certain sense man is preparing for them even to-day. Man will only begin consciously to transform the physical, etheric and astral bodies by means of the Ego in a distant future, but unconsciously, that is to say, without full consciousness, the dim activity of the Ego has already transformed these three members. A certain result has indeed already been achieved.

Those inner members of man's being mentioned in previous lectures could only have come into existence because the work of the Ego upon the astral body has resulted in the development of the sentient soul as a kind of inner reflection of the sentient body. The sentient body conveys what we call ‘enjoyment’ (Genuss) and this is reflected in the inner soul-being as the desires we ascribe to the soul. (Sentient body and astral body are the same thing so far as man is concerned; without the sentient body there could be no ‘enjoyment.’) Thus astral body, and transformed astral body, or sentient soul, belong together in the same sense as enjoyment and desires. The Ego has also worked on the etheric body in the past. What it has unfolded there has brought about the fact that in his inner being man bears the intellectual, or mind-soul. The intellectual soul, which is also the bearer of the memory, is connected with a subconscious process of transformation of the etheric body proceeding from the Ego. And finally, the Ego has in past ages already worked at the transformation of the physical body in order that man may exist in his present form. The product of this is called the consciousness soul, through which man acquires knowledge of the things of the outer world. In this sense too, therefore, we may speak of the sevenfold human being: the three soul members, sentient soul, intellectual soul and consciousness soul have arisen as the result of a preparatory, subconscious. Ego activity. But here the Ego has worked unconsciously or subconsciously, upon its sheaths.

Now we must ask: are not these three members, physical body, etheric body and astral body complicated entities? It is a most marvellous structure, this physical body of man! Closer examination would show that it contains far more than the mere portion which has been elaborated by the Ego into the consciousness soul, and which may be called the physical vehicle of the consciousness soul. Again, the etheric body is much more complicated than the vehicle of the intellectual or mind soul, and the astral body more complicated than the vehicle of the sentient soul. These elements are poor in comparison with what was already in existence before man possessed an Ego. Therefore Spiritual Science teaches us that in a primordial past the first germ of man's physical body was brought into existence by Spiritual Beings. To this was added the etheric body, then the astral body, and finally the Ego. The physical body of man has thus passed through four evolutionary stages. First of all the physical body existed in direct correspondence with the spiritual world, then it was elaborated, permeated and interwoven with the etheric body, and grew more complicated. Then it was permeated by the astral body and grew more complicated still. Then the Ego was added, and only when the Ego had worked on the physical body was a portion transformed into the vehicle of so-called ‘human consciousness,’ the faculty by which man acquires a knowledge of the external world. But this physical body has to do a great deal more than create a knowledge of the external world through the senses and brain. It has to carry out a number of activities lying at the basis of consciousness but taking their course entirely outside the region of the brain. And so it is with the etheric and astral bodies.

When we realise that all around us in the external world is Spirit, that Spirit is at the basis of everything material, etheric, astral, we must say: just as the Ego itself, as a spiritual being works from within outwards while man's evolution proceeds in the three members of his being, so must Spiritual Beings, or spiritual activities, if you will, have worked upon his physical, etheric and astral bodies before the Ego asserted itself and elaborated a further fragment of what had already been prepared. Here we look back to past ages when an activity proceeding from without inwards was exercised upon the astral, etheric and physical bodies, just as now the Ego works from within outwards upon these three members. Thus it must be said that spiritual creation, spiritual activity has been at work on our sheaths, imparting form, movement, shape and so on before the Ego was able to take root therein. We must speak of the existence of spiritual activities in human beings preceding the activity of the Ego. We bear within us spiritual activities which are necessary preliminaries to those of the Ego and which were in operation before the Ego could intervene. Let us then for the moment eliminate all that has been elaborated by the Ego from the three members of our being (sentient soul, intellectual soul and consciousness soul) and consider the structure, inner movement and activity of the sheaths of the human being. Before the activity of the Ego, a spiritual activity was exercised upon us. Therefore in Spiritual Science we say that in man as he is to-day we have to do with an individual soul, with a soul permeated by an Ego which makes each single human being into an individuality complete in itself. We say that before man became this complete Ego-being, he was the product of a ‘Group-Soul,’ of a soul essence, just as we speak of Group-Souls to-day in the animal world. The individual soul in the human being is, in the animal kingdom, at the basis of a whole family or species. A whole animal species has one common animal Group-Soul. In man, the Soul is individualised.

Thus before man became an individual soul, another soul worked in the three members of his being. This other soul—which we can only learn to know to-day through Spiritual Science—is the predecessor of our own Ego. This predecessor of the Ego, man's Group- or Species-Soul which gave over to the Ego the three members it had already elaborated, physical body, etheric body, astral body, in order that the Ego might further work upon them,—this Group-Soul similarly transformed, developed and regulated the three bodies from its inner centre. And the last activity which worked upon the human being before the bestowal of the Ego, the last influences immediately preceding the birth of the Ego, are to-day expressed in human speech. If, therefore, we take our start from our life of consciousness, intelligence and feeling, and look back to what has preceded this inner life, we are led to a soul activity as yet unpermeated by the Ego, the result of which is to-day expressed in speech.

Now let us consider this fourfold being of ours, and what lies at its foundation. How is it expressed outwardly in the physical body? The physical body of a plant has a different appearance from that of a man. Why is this so? It is because the plant possesses only physical body and etheric body, whereas in the physical body of man astral body and Ego are working as well. And what is inwardly working there correspondingly forms and transforms the physical. What is it, then, that has worked in man's physical body in such a way that it has become permeated by an etheric or life body?

The system of veins and glands is, in the human being and also in the animal, the outer physical expression of the etheric or life body; that is to say, the etheric body is the architect or moulder of the system of veins and glands. The astral body, again, moulds the nervous system. Therefore it is only correct to speak of a nervous system in the case of beings possessing an astral body.

And what is the expression of the Ego in man? It is the blood system, and, in the human being, the blood which is under the influence of the inner, vital warmth. Everything that the Ego brings about in man, if it is to be moulded into the physical body, proceeds by way of the blood. Therefore it is that blood is such ‘a very peculiar fluid.’ When the Ego has elaborated the sentient soul, intellectual soul and consciousness soul, all that it is able to shape and fashion can only penetrate to the physical body by way of the blood. The blood is the medium for all the activities of astral body and Ego.

Nobody will doubt, even if he only observes human life superficially, that as man works from his Ego in the consciousness soul, intellectual soul and sentient soul, he is also transforming and changing the physical body. The facial expression is surely an elaboration of what is working and living in the inner being. And is there anyone who would not admit that the inner activity of thought, if it lays hold of the whole soul, has a transforming effect on the brain, throughout the course of human life? Our brain adapts itself to our thinking; it is an instrument that moulds itself according to the requirements of our thinking. But, if we observe to what extent man is to-day able to mould his external being artistically from out of his Ego, we shall see that it is indeed very little. We can accomplish very little through the blood by setting it in movement from the “inner warmth.” The Spiritual Beings, whose activity preceded the activity of the Ego could do much more. They had a more effective medium at their disposal, and under their influence, man's form was so moulded that it has become, on the whole, an expression of what these Spiritual Beings made of him. What was the medium in which they worked? It was the air. Just as we work in the inner warmth, making our blood pulsate and thus bringing it to activity within our own form,—so did these Spiritual Beings work with regard to the air. Our true human form is the result of the work of these Beings upon us through the medium of the air.

It may appear strange to say that spiritual activities worked upon man through the air in a far-off past. I have already said that we should not understand our own inner life of soul and spirit if we were to conceive of it merely as so many concepts and ideas, if we did not know that it has been bestowed by the whole external world. Anyone who stated that concepts and ideas arise within man, even though there may be no ideas in the external world, might just as well say that he can obtain water from an empty glass. Our concepts would be so much froth if they were anything else than what is living in the objects outside us and the laws within them. The elements brought to life in the soul are drawn from the world around us. We may say, therefore, that everything around us in the material world is permeated and woven through by Spiritual Beings. However strange it may appear, the air around us is not merely the substance revealed by Chemistry; spiritual beings, spiritual activities are working within it. Through the blood warmth proceeding from the Ego (for that is the essential point), we can to a very small extent mould our physical body. The spiritual beings preceding the Ego performed mighty things in the outer form of our physical body through the medium of the air. That is the important thing.

It is the form of the larynx, and all that is connected with it, that makes us man. This marvellous organ and its relation to the other instruments of speech has been elaborated artistically out of the spiritual element of the air. Goethe said so beautifully in speaking of the eye: “The eye has formed itself from the light, for the light.” To say in the sense of Schopenhauer that “without an eye sensitive to the light, the impression of the light would not exist for us,” is only half a truth. The other half is that we should have no eyes if the light, in a primordial past, had not plastically elaborated the eye from undifferentiated organs. In the light, therefore, we must not merely see the abstract essence described to-day by Physical Science as light; we have to seek in the light the hidden essence that is able to create an eye.

In another sphere, it is the same thing as if we were to say that the air is permeated and ensouled by a Being who at a certain epoch was able to mould in man the highly artistic organ of the larynx and all that is related to it. All the rest of the human form,—down to the smallest details,—has been so formed and plastically moulded that at the present stage man is, so to speak, a further elaboration of his organs of speech. The organs of speech are fundamental to the human form. Hence, it is speech that raises man above the animal. The Spiritual Being whom we call the “Spirit of the Air,” has indeed worked in and moulded the animal nature, but the activity did not reach the point of development of a speech organism such as is possessed by man. With the exception, for example, of what has been elaborated unconsciously by the Ego in the brain and in the perfecting of the senses,—everything, that is, except the products of Ego activity,—has proceeded from a higher activity preceding that of the human Ego, whose purpose it was to create man's body out of a further elaboration of his organs of speech. There is no time now to explain why the birds, for instance, in spite of their perfection of song, have remained at a stage where their form cannot, be an expression of the organs of speech.

So far, then, as the instruments of speech are concerned, man was already inwardly organised before he arrived at the stage of thinking, feeling and willing as he does to-day. These latter processes are connected with the Ego. We can now understand that the higher Spiritual activities, having created the astral, etheric and physical bodies through the influences of the air, could only so mould the physical body that it ultimately became a kind of appendage of man's instruments of speech. When man had been thus presented with an organ responding to the so-called “Spirit of the Air” (in the same sense as the eye responds to the spiritual essence of the light), his Ego could project into this organ its own functions of intelligence, consciousness and feeling. A threefold subconscious activity,—an activity in the physical, etheric and astral bodies precedes the activity of the Ego. A keystone for the understanding of this is our knowledge that it was due to the “Group-soul,” which has, of course, worked upon the animal also, but imperfectly. This must be taken into consideration in our study of the spiritual activity in the astral body preceding that of the Ego. In such a study, we must eliminate any conception of the Ego itself, but bear in mind all that has been brought about by the Group-Ego from mysterious depths of being. Desire and enjoyment, in an imperfect, chaotic condition, confront each other in the astral body. Desire could become a soul-quality, could be transformed into an inner faculty, because it already had a precursor in the astral body of man.

Similarly, the capacity for the formation of pictures, a symbol-creating faculty, inheres, in the etheric body, confronting outer stimuli. A distinction must be made between this pre-Ego activity of the etheric body and the Ego activity itself. When the Ego is functioning as intellectual soul, it seeks, at the present stage of human development, to present as Truth what is the most faithful image of external objects. Anything that does not correspond to outer objects is said to be ‘untrue.’ The spiritual activities preceding the operations of the Ego did not function in this way; they were more symbolical, picture-like, more or less like a dream. We may dream, for instance, that a shot is fired, and on waking find that a chair beside the bed has fallen down. The outer event and impression (the falling chair) are transformed in the dream into a sense image, the shot. The spiritual beings preceding the Ego “symbolised,” and this is what we ourselves do when we rise to higher spiritual activity through Initiation. At that stage, we try, but with full consciousness, to work our way from the merely abstract outer world into a symbolising, imaginative activity.

These spiritual beings worked yet further on the human physical body, making man into an expression of the correspondence between outer happenings or facts, and imitation. In the child, for instance, we find imitation when the other members of the soul are as yet but little developed. Imitation is a process belonging to the subconscious essence of man's nature. Therefore, early education should be based on imitation, for it exists as a natural impulse in the human being before the Ego begins to regulate the inner activities of soul. The impulse to imitate in presence of outer activities, in the physical body, the symbolising process in the etheric body in response to outer stimuli, and the so-called correspondence between desire and enjoyment in the astral body,—all these things must be thought of as elaborated through the agency of the air. Their plastic, artistic impression has been worked into the larynx and the whole apparatus of speech. The Beings who preceded the Ego, then, formed and moulded man in this threefold sense, and thus the air can come to expression in the human being.

When we study the faculty of speech in the true sense we must ask: is speech the “tone” that we produce? No, it is not. Our Ego sets in movement, and gives form to what has been moulded and incorporated in us through the air. Just as we set the eye in movement in order to receive the light that is working externally (the eye itself is there for the reception of light), so, within ourselves, from out of the Ego, those organs which have been elaborated from the spiritual essence of the air are set in movement; and then we must wait until the spirit of the air itself sounds back to us as the echo of our own “air activity,”—the tone. We do not produce the tone any more than the single parts of a flute produce the tone. We produce from our own being, the activity which the Ego is able to develop by using the organs which have been elaborated from out the spirit of the air. Then it must be left to the spirit of the air to set the air in movement again, by means of the same activity which has produced the organs. Thus the word sounds forth.

Human speech is founded on the threefold correspondence, of which I have spoken. But what is it that must correspond? Upon what has imitation to be based in the physical body? Imitation in the physical body must be based upon the fact that, in the movements of our vocal organs, we imitate the outer activities and objects which we perceive and which make an impression upon us; that we produce the echo of what we have in the first place heard echoing as tone, imitating through the physical body the thing that has made an external impression upon us. The painter imitates a scene which is made up of quite other elements than colour and canvas, light and shade. Just as the painter imitates by manipulating light and shade, so do we imitate what comes to us from outside, by setting our organs in movement, imitatively,—organs which have been elaborated out of the element of the air. What we bring forth in the sound, is therefore an actual imitation of the essential being of things. Our consonants and vowels are nothing but reflections and imitations of impressions from outside.

In the etheric body, we have a picture-forming, symbolising activity. Hence we can understand that although the earliest beginnings of our speech arose through imitation, a development took place in that the process tore itself loose, as it were, from the external impressions, and was then further elaborated. In symbolism,—as in the dream,—the etheric body elaborates something that no longer resembles the outer impressions, and the continued operation of the sound, consists in this. First of all, the etheric body works upon something that is mere imitation; this mere imitation is transformed by it, and becomes an independent process. So that what we have inwardly elaborated, corresponds only in a symbolical sense, as sense-imagery, to the outer impressions. Our activity is no longer merely imitative.

Finally, there is a third element,—desire, emotion, everything that lives inwardly. This expresses itself in the astral body, and works in such a way, that it gives further form to the tone. These inner experiences stream from within outwards into the tone. Sorrow and joy, pleasure and pain, desire, wish,—all these things flow into it, and impart to it a subjective element. First there is the process of mere imitation. This is further developed as speech symbolism in the tone- or word-picture that has become an independent entity, and this is now again transformed by being permeated with man's inner experiences of sorrow and joy, pleasure and pain, horror, fright and so forth. It must always be an outer correspondence that first wrests itself from the soul, in the tone. But when the soul expresses its experiences, and allows them to sound forth, as it were, it has first to seek for the corresponding outer experience. The third element, then, where pleasure and pain, joy and sorrow, horror and so on, express themselves inwardly, psychically, in the tone, has first to seek for its correspondence. In imitation there is an after-copy of the external impression; the inner tone-picture, the symbol that has arisen, is the next development; but what man allows to sound forth, merely from inner joy, pain, and so on, would only be a radiation or emanation to which nothing could correspond.

When children learn to speak, we can continually observe the correspondence between outer being and inner experience. The child begins to translate something it feels into sound. When it cries “Mamma,” “Papa,” this is nothing but an inner transfusion of emotion into sound, the externalisation of an inward element. When the child expresses itself thus, its mother comes to it and the child notices that an outer occurrence corresponds to the expression of joy poured into the sound “Mamma.” Naturally, the child does not ask how it happens that in this case its mother comes to it. The inner experience of joy, or pain, associates itself with the outer impression. This is the third way in which speech operates.

It may therefore be said that speech has arisen just as much from without, inwards, through imitation, as through the association of external reality with the expression of the inner being. What has led to the formation of the words “Mamma,” “Papa,” from the expression of the inner being, which feels satisfaction when the mother comes, occurs in innumerable cases. Wherever the human being perceives that something happens as the result of an inner utterance, the expression of the inner being unites itself with the external fact.

All this takes place without the co-operation of the Ego. The Ego only later takes over this activity. Thus we can see how an activity, preceding that of the Ego, worked at the configuration which lies at the basis of man's faculty of expression in speech. And because the Ego makes its entrance after the foundations for speech have already been created, speech, in turn, accommodates itself to the nature of the Ego. As a result, utterances corresponding to the sentient body are permeated with the sentient soul; the pictures and symbols corresponding to the etheric body are permeated with the intellectual soul. Man pours into the sound what he experiences in the intellectual soul, and this was at first, mere imitation. Thus, do those elements of our speech, which are reproductions of inner experiences of the soul, come gradually into existence.

In order, therefore, to understand the essential nature of speech, we must realise that there lives within us, something that was active before the Ego, and any of its activities were there; into this, the Ego afterwards poured what it is able to elaborate. We must not demand that speech shall exactly correspond to what originates in the Ego, to all the spirituality and intimacies of our individual being. Speech can never be the direct expression of the Ego. The activity of the spirit of speech, is of a symbolical nature in the etheric body, imitative in the physical body. All this in conjunction with what is elaborated by the spirit of speech, from out the sentient soul,—for it projects the inner experiences from that domain, in such a way that we have in the sound an emanation of the inner life,—justifies us in saying that speech has not been elaborated by the methods of the conscious Ego, as we know it to-day. The development of speech, is indeed, only comparable to artistic activity. We cannot demand that speech shall be an exact copy of what it intends to present, any more than we can demand that the artist's imitation shall correspond to reality. Speech only reproduces the external, in the sense in which the artist's picture reproduces it. Before man was a self-conscious spirit, in the modern sense, an artist, working as the spirit of speech, was active. This is a somewhat figurative way of speaking, but it expresses the truth. It is a subconscious activity that has produced the speaking human being, as a work of art. By analogy, speech must be conceived of as a work of art, but we must not forget, that each work of art can only be understood within the scope of that particular art. Speech itself, therefore, must necessarily impose certain limits upon us. If this were taken into consideration, a pedantic effort, like Fritz Mauthner's ‘Critique of Speech,’ would have been impossible from the very outset. In that work, the critique of speech is built upon entirely false premises. When we examine human languages, says Mauthner, we find that they by no means, correctly reproduce the objective reality of things. Yes, but are they intended to do so? Is there any possibility of their doing so? No; no more than it is possible for the picture to reproduce external reality by the colours, lights and shades, on the canvas. The spirit of speech underlying this activity of man, must be conceived in an artistic sense.

It has only been possible to speak of these things in bare outline. But when we know that an Artist, who moulds speech, is at work in humanity, we shall understand that however different the single languages may be, artistic power has been at work in them all. When this ‘spirit of speech,’ as we will now call the being working through the air, has manifested at a comparatively low stage in man, its action has been like that of the atomistic spirit, which would build up everything out of the single particles. It is then possible to build up a language where a whole sentence is composed of single sound-pictures.

When in the Chinese language, for instance, we find the sounds ‘Shi’ and ‘King,’ we have two ‘atoms’ of speech formation, the one syllable ‘Shi,’ or song, and ‘King,’ book. Putting the two sound-pictures together—‘Shi-King,’ we should have the German ‘Liederbuch’ (English, Song-Book). This ‘atomising’ process results in something that is conceived of as one whole, ‘Song-Book.’ That is a small example of how the Chinese language gives form to concepts and ideas.

If we elaborate what has been said to-day, we can understand how to study the spirit of so marvelously constructed a language as the Semitic, for instance. The foundation of the Semitic language lies in certain tone-pictures, consisting really, only of consonants. Into these tone-pictures, vowels are inserted. If, for the mere sake of example we take the consonants q—t—l, and insert an ‘ a ’ and again ‘ a ’, we obtain the word ‘qatal’ (German, töten, to kill), whereas the word consisting of consonants only is the mere imitation of an external sound impression.

This is a remarkable permeation, for ‘qatal,’ to kill, has come into existence as a sound picture, through the fact that the outer happening or event has been imitated by the organs of speech; that is the original sound picture. The soul elaborates this, by adding something that can only be an inner experience. The sound picture is further developed and the killing referred to a subject. Fundamentally speaking, the whole Semitic language has been built up in this way. The working together of the different elements of speech-formation is expressed in the whole construction of the Semitic language, in the symbolising element that is pre-eminently active. The activity of the spirit of speech in the etheric body is revealed in the characteristics of the Semitic language, where all the single, imitated sound-pictures are elaborated and transformed into sense images by the insertion of vowels. All words in the Semitic language are fundamentally so formed, that they are related to the external world, as sense images.

In contrast to this, the elements in the Indo-Germanic languages are stimulated more by the inner expression of the astral body, of the inner being. The astral body is already bound up with consciousness. When man confronts the outer world, he distinguishes himself from it. When he confronts the outer world, from the point of view of the etheric body, he mingles, and is one with it. Only when objects are reflected in the consciousness, does he distinguish himself from them. This activity of the astral body, with its wholly inward experience, is wonderfully expressed in the Indo-Germanic languages—in contrast to the Semitic—in that they include the verb ‘to be,’—the affirmation of what is there without our co-operation. This is possible because man distinguishes himself from what causes the outer impression. If, therefore, a Semitic language wants to express ‘God is good,’ it is not directly possible. The word ‘is’, which expresses existence, cannot be rendered, because it is derived from the antithesis of astral body, and external world. The etheric body, simply presents things. Therefore, in the Semitic language, we should have to say ‘God the Good.’ The confronting of subject and object is not expressed. In these Indo-Germanic languages there is differentiation from the outer world; they contain the element of a tapestry of perceptions spread out over the external world. These in turn, react on the human being, strengthening and giving support to the quality of ‘inwardness,’ that is to say, all that may be spoken of as the predisposition to build up strong individuality, a strong Ego.

It may seem to many of you that I have only been able to give unsatisfactory indications, but it would be necessary to speak for a fortnight if a detailed exposition of speech were to be given. Only those who have heard many such lectures, and have entered into the spirit of them, will realise that a stimulus such as has been given to-day is not without justification.

The only intention has been to show that it is possible to acquire a conception of speech and language in the sense of Spiritual Science, and this leads us to realise that speech can only be understood with the artistic sense which must first have been developed. All learning will be shipwrecked if it is not willing to recreate what the ‘artist of speech’ has moulded in man before the Ego was able to work within him. Only the artistic sense can understand the mysteries of speech; the artistic sense alone can recreate. Learned abstractions can never make a work of art intelligible. Only those ideas which are able fruitfully to recreate what the artist has expressed with other media,—colour, tone, and so on,—can shed light on a work of art. Artistic feeling alone can understand the artist; artists of speech alone can understand the creative Spiritual element in the origin of speech. This is one thing that Spiritual Science has to accomplish with regard to the domain of speech.

The other thing has its bearing in practical life itself. When we understand how speech has proceeded from an inner, prehuman artist, we shall also realise that when we want to speak or express through speech, something that claims to be authoritative, this artistic sense must be allowed to come into play. There is not much realisation of this in our modern age, when there is so little living feeling for speech. To-day, if a man can speak at all, he imagines that he is at liberty to express everything. What should be realised is that we must recreate in the soul a direct connection between what we wish to express in speech, and how we express it. The artist of speech, ‘in all domains’ must be reawakened within us. To-day, people are satisfied with any form that is given to what they want to say. How many people realise that the artistic feeling for speech and language is necessary in every description or thesis? This, however, is absolutely essential in the domain of Spiritual Science. Examine any genuine writings in the sphere of Spiritual Science and you will find that a true Spiritual Scientist has tried to mould each sentence artistically; he does not place a verb arbitrarily at the beginning or end. You will find that every sentence is a ‘birth ‘ because it must be experienced, not merely as thought, but inwardly in the soul, as actual form. If you follow the coherence of what is written, you will find that in three consecutive sentences, the middle one is not merely an appendage of the first, and the third of the second. The third sentence is already there in germ, before the second is built up, because the force of the middle sentence must depend on what has remained of the force in the first, and this must in turn pass over to the third. In Spiritual Science, one cannot create without the artistic feeling for language. Nothing else is of any use. The essential point is to free ourselves from being slavishly chained to the words, and this cannot happen if we imagine that any word can express a thought, for our speech formation is then already at fault. Words which are coined wholly for the world of sense, can never adequately express super-sensible facts. Those who ask, ‘how can one describe the etheric or astral body concretely by a word,’ have understood nothing at all of these things. Only that man has understood who says to himself, ‘I will experience what the etheric body really is from the one aspect before I allow myself to write a single page about it, and I will realise that it is a question of artistic imagery. Then I will describe it from the other three aspects.’ In such a case, we have the matter presented from four different aspects, so that the presentations given through language are really artistic imagery. If this is not realised, we shall have nothing but abstractions and an emaciated repetition of what is already known. Hence, development in Spiritual Science will always be bound up with a development of an inner understanding of the plastic forces of speech. In this sense Spiritual Science will work fruitfully upon our present atrocious style of speech which reveals no indication of the nature of artistic power. If it were otherwise, so many people who can really hardly speak or write, would not rush into literary activity. People have long ago lost the realisation that prose writing, for instance, is a much higher activity than writing verse, only, of course, the prose that is written to-day is of a much lower order.

Spiritual Science is there to impart, in every domain, the stimulus connected with the deepest spheres of human life. In this sense, Spiritual Science will fulfil the dreams of the greatest men. It will be able to conquer the super-sensible worlds through thought, and so to pour out the thoughts into sound pictures that speech can again become an instrument for communicating the vision of the soul in super-sensible worlds. Then Spiritual Science will fulfil, in ever-increasing measure, a saying relating to this important region of man's inner being: ‘Immeasurably deep is thought, and its winged instrument is the word.’

Die Geisteswissenschaft und die Sprache

Es ist reizvoll, die verschiedenen Äußerungen der menschlichen Wesenheit vom geisteswissenschaftlichen Standpunkt, so wie hier Geisteswissenschaft gemeint ist, zu betrachten. Denn indem wir gleichsam um das menschliche Leben herumgehen, wie es im Verlaufe dieser Vorträge geschehen ist, und es von seinen verschiedenen Seiten betrachten, können wir uns einen Gesamteindruck von demselben verschaffen. Heute soll von jener universellen Äußerung des menschlichen Geistes die Rede sein, die sich in der Sprache zu erkennen gibt, und das nächste Mal soll dann unter dem Titel «Lachen und Weinen» gleichsam eine Abart der menschlichen Ausdrucksfähigkeit betrachtet werden, die zwar mit der Sprache verbunden, aber doch wieder grundverschieden von ihr ist.

Wenn von der menschlichen Sprache die Rede ist, dann fühlen wir wohl hinlänglich, wie sehr die ganze Bedeutung und Würde und das ganze Wesen des Menschen mit dem zusammenhängt, was eben als Sprache bezeichnet wird. Unser innerstes Leben, alle unsere Gedanken, Gefühle und Willensimpulse fließen gleichsam nach außen zu unseren Mitmenschen hin und verbinden uns mit denselben durch die Sprache. So fühlen wir eine unendliche Erweiterungsfähigkeit unseres Wesens, eine Möglichkeit des Ausstrahlens dieses Wesens in die Umgebung durch die Sprache. Auf der anderen Seite allerdings wird gerade derjenige, der das menschliche Innen O leben einer bedeutungsvollen Individualität zu durchdringen vermag, empfinden können, wie die menschliche Sprache doch wiederum eine Art Tyrann ist, eine Macht, die auf unser Innenleben ausgeübt wird. Fühlen wir es doch, wenn wir nur wollen, daß dasjenige, was wir uns selber zu sagen haben über unsere Gefühle und Gedanken, über das, was durch die Seele zieht mit all seiner Intimität und Besonderheit, nur spärlich und schwach in dem Wort, in der Sprache zum Ausdruck kommen kann. Und fühlen wir doch auch, wie die Sprache, in die wir hineingestellt sind, uns sogar ein bestimmtes Denken aufzwingt. Wer sollte es denn nicht wissen, wie der Mensch in bezug auf sein Denken abhängig ist von der Sprache! Worte sind es vielfach, an die sich unsere Begriffe heften, und in einem unvollkommenen Entwikkelungszustand wird der Mensch sogar leicht das Wort oder das, was ihm das Wort einimpft, mit dem Begriffe verwechseln können. Daher die Unmöglichkeit mancher Menschen, sich eine Begriffswelt aufzubauen, welche hinausreicht über das, was ihnen die Worte geben, die in ihrer Umgebung üblich sind. Und wissen wir doch auch, wie der Charakter eines ganzen Volkes, das eine gemeinsame Sprache spricht, in gewisser Weise von dieser Sprache abhängig ist. Wenigstens muß derjenige, der intimer die Volkscharaktere, die Sprachencharaktere in ihren Zusammenhängen betrachtet, einsehen, wie die Art und Weise, in welcher der Mensch das, was in seiner Seele liegt, in Laute umzuprägen vermag, wiederum zurückwirkt auf die Stärke und Schwäche seines Charakters, auf den Ausdruck seines Temperamentes, ja auf seine ganze Lebensauffassung. Und der Kenner wird imstande sein, aus der Konfiguration der Sprache eines Volkes mancherlei entnehmen zu können in bezug auf den Charakter eines Volkes. Da aber die Sprache einem Volke gemeinschaftlich ist, so ist der einzelne von einer Gemeinsamkeit abhängig, gleichsam von einem Durchschnittsmaß, wie es in dem Volke herrscht. Er steht dadurch gewissermaßen unter der Tyrannei, unter der Macht der Gemeinsamkeit. Wenn man aber fühlt, daß auf der einen Seite unser individuelles Geistesleben, auf der anderen Seite das Geistesleben von Gemeinsamkeiten sozusagen in der Sprache niedergelegt ist, so erscheint einem dasjenige, was man das Geheimnis der Sprache nennen könnte, als etwas ganz besonders Bedeutungsvolles. Man kann sagen, daß man gewiß einiges über das Seelenleben des Menschen erfahren kann, wenn man die Äußerungen betrachtet, wie dieses menschliche Wesen gerade in der Sprache sich gibt.

Das Geheimnis der Sprache, ihre Entstehung, ihre Fortentwickelung in den verschiedenen Zeiten, war von jeher eine Rätselfrage für gewisse fachwissenschaftliche Gebiete. Aber man kann nicht sagen, daß diese fachwissenschaftlichen Gebiete in unserem Zeitalter besonders glücklich darin waren, hinter das Geheimnis der Sprache zu kommen. Deshalb soll heute sozusagen aphoristisch, skizzenhaft von dem Gesichtspunkt der Geisteswissenschaft, wie wir ihn gewohnt sind auf den Menschen und seine Entwickelung anzuwenden, einiges Licht auf die Sprache, ihre Entwickelung und ihren Zusammenhang mit dem Menschen geworfen werden.

Das ist es ja, was zunächst so geheimnisvoll erscheint, wenn wir irgendein Ding, eine Sache, einen Vorgang mit einem Worte bezeichnen. Wie hängt da jene eigentümliche Lautzusammensetzung, die das Wort oder den Satz bildet, mit dem zusammen, was aus uns kommt und als Wort das Ding bedeutet? Da hat man vom Standpunkte der äußeren Wissenschaft die mannigfaltigsten Erfahrungen zu den verschiedensten Kombinationen zusammenzufügen versucht. Man hat aber auch das Unbefriedigende einer solchen Betrachtungsweise empfunden. Die Frage ist ja so einfach und dennoch so schwierig zu beantworten: Wie kam der Mensch dazu, wenn ihm irgend etwas in der Außenwelt entgegentrat, gerade aus sich heraus, wie ein Echo dieses oder jenes Gegenstandes oder Vorganges, nun diesen oder jenen besonderen Laut hervorzubringen?

Von einem gewissen Gesichtspunkte aus stellte man sich die Sache recht einfach vor. Man dachte zum Beispiel daran, daß die Sprachbildung davon ausgegangen sei, dasjenige, was man äußerlich schon als Laut hört wie den Laut gewisser Tiere, oder wenn etwas an ein anderes anschlägt, durch die innere Fähigkeit unserer Sprachorgane nachzuahmen, etwa so wie das Kind, wenn es den Hund «wau-wau!» bellen hört und diesen Laut nachahmt, den Hund den «Wauwau» nennt. Eine solche Wortbildung könnte man eine onomatopoetische nennen, eine Nachahmung des Tones. Eine derartige Nachahmung sollte der ursprünglichen Laut- und Wortbildung - so ist es von gewissen Gesichtspunkten aus behauptet worden — zugrunde liegen. Natürlich bleibt die Frage ganz unbeantwortet: Wie kommt der Mensch dann dazu, jene stummen Wesenheiten, die keinen Ton von sich geben, zu benennen? Wie steigt er auf von dem Lautausdruck eines Tieres oder eines Vorganges, den man hören kann, zu einem solchen, den man nicht hören kann? — Der große Sprachforscher Max Müller hat diese Theorie, weil er das Unbefriedigende einer solchen Spekulation einsah, verspottet und sie die «Wauwau-Theorie» genannt. Dafür hat er eine andere Theorie aufgestellt, welche die Gegner nun ihrerseits — und hier ist das Wort in dem Sinne gebraucht, wie es nicht gebraucht werden sollte — «mystisch» genannt haben. Max Müller meint nämlich, daß einem jeden Ding in sich selber sozusagen etwas zukomme, was wie Klang sei. Alles habe in gewisser Weise einen Klang, nicht nur ein Glas, das man fallen läßt, nicht nur die Glocke, die angeschlagen wird, sondern jedes Ding. Und die Fähigkeit des Menschen, eine Beziehung herzustellen zwischen seiner Seele und diesem, gleichsam als inneres Wesen an dem Dinge befindlichen Klange, ruft in der Seele die Möglichkeit hervor, dieses innere Klangwesen des Dinges auszudrücken, wie man etwa das Innere der Glocke ausdrücken kann, wenn man ihren Ton in «Bim-bam» nachfühlt. Und die Gegner Max Müllers haben ihm seinen Spott zurückgegeben, indem sie nun seine Theorie die «Bimbam-Theorie» nannten. Wenn wir fortfahren wollten, von den mit großem Fleiß gemachten Zusammenstellungen weiteres aufzuzählen, so würden wir sehen, daß immer etwas Unbefriedigendes bleiben müßte, wenn man dasjenige, was der Mensch gleichsam wie ein Echo seiner Seele dem Wesen der Dinge entgegentönen läßt, in dieser Weise äußerlich charakterisieren wollte. Da muß man schon tiefer hineindringen in das Innere des Menschen.

Für die Geisteswissenschaft ist der Mensch im Grunde genommen ein sehr kompliziertes Wesen. So wie er vor uns steht, hat er zunächst seinen physischen Leib, der in sich dieselben Gesetze und Substantialitäten hat, die wir auch in der mineralischen Welt finden. Dann hat der Mensch für die Geisteswissenschaft als ein zweites, höheres Glied seiner Wesenheit den Ätherleib oder Lebensleib. Sodann dasjenige Glied, das wir den Träger von Lust und Leid, Freude und Schmerz, von Trieb, Begierde und Leidenschaft nennen, den astralischen Leib, der für die Geisteswissenschaft ein ebenso reales, ja realeres Glied der Menschennatur ist als das, was man mit Augen sehen und mit Händen greifen kann. Und das vierte Glied der menschlichen Wesenheit haben wir den Träger des Ich genannt. Wir haben ferner gesehen, daß die Entwickelung des Menschen auf der gegenwärtigen Stufe darinnen besteht, daß er von seinem Ich aus an der Umgestaltung der drei anderen Glieder seiner Wesenheit arbeitet. Wir haben auch darauf hingedeutet, daß in einer fernen Zukunft das menschliche Ich diese drei Glieder so umgestaltet haben wird, daß nichts mehr von dem zurückgeblieben sein wird, was die Natur oder die in der Natur liegenden geistigen Mächte aus diesen drei menschlichen Gliedern gemacht haben.

Der astralische Leib, der Träger von Lust und Leid, von Freude und Schmerz, von allen auf und ab wogenden Vorstellungen, Empfindungen und Wahrnehmungen, ist zunächst ohne unser Zutun, das heißt, ohne die Arbeit unseres Ich zustande gekommen. Nun aber arbeitet das Ich an ihm, und es arbeitet so, daß es läutert und reinigt und unter seine Herrschaft alles bringt, was Eigenschaften und Tätigkeiten des astralischen Leibes sind. Wenn das Ich nur wenig an dem astralischen Leibe gearbeitet hat, ist der Mensch ein Sklave seiner Triebe und Begierden; wenn es aber Triebe und Begierden läutert zu Tugenden, wenn es das, was irrlichtelierendes Denken ist, an dem Faden der Logik geordnet hat, dann ist ein Teil des astralischen Leibes umgewandelt, er ist aus einem Produkte, an dem das Ich noch nichts gearbeitet hat, zu einem Produkte des Ich geworden. Wenn das Ich diese Arbeit bewußt vollbringt, wozu heute in der menschlichen Entwickelung erst der Anfang gemacht ist, nennen wir diesen vom Ich aus bewußt umgearbeiteten Teil des astralischen Leibes Geistselbst oder mit einem Ausdruck der orientalischen Philosophie Manas. Wenn das Ich in einer anderen, intensiveren Weise nicht nur in den astralischen Leib, sondern auch in den Ätherleib hineinarbeitet, nennen wir den vom Ich aus umgearbeiteten Teil des Ätherleibes den Lebensgeist oder mit einem Ausdruck der orientalischen Philosophie die Buddhi. Und wenn das Ich endlich so stark geworden ist, was aber erst einer fernen Zukunft angehört, daß es den physischen Leib umwandelt und seine Gesetze reguliert, so daß das Ich überall dabei ist und der Herrscher dessen ist, was im physischen Leibe lebt, dann nennen wir diesen so unter die Herrschaft des Ich gelangten Teil des physischen Leibes den Geistesmenschen oder auch, weil jene Arbeit mit einem Regulieren des Atmungsprozesses beginnt, mit einem Worte der orientalischen Philosophie Atman, was mit dem Atmen zusammenhängt.

So haben wir zunächst den Menschen als eine viergliedrige Wesenheit: bestehend aus physischem Leib, Ätherleib, astralischem Leib und Ich. Und so wie wir drei aus der Vergangenheit herrührende Glieder unserer Wesenheit haben, so können wir - durch die Arbeit des Ich auch sprechen von drei in die Zukunft hinein sich entwickelnden Gliedern des Menschen. Und wir sprechen so von einer siebengliedrigen Natur der menschlichen Wesenheit, indem wir zu physischem Leib, Ätherleib, astralischem Leib und Ich noch hinzuzählen Geistselbst, Lebensgeist und Geistesmenschen. Wenn wir aber auf diese drei letzteren Glieder als auf etwas Fernes, Zukünftiges der menschlichen Entwickelung hinschauen, so müssen wir sagen, daß doch in einer gewissen Weise der Mensch heute für diese Entwickelung schon vorbereitet ist. Bewußt wird der Mensch erst in einer fernen Zukunft von seinem Ich aus diese drei Glieder — physischen Leib, Ätherleib und astralischen Leib - bearbeiten. Unterbewußt aber, das heißt ohne sein volles Bewußtsein, hat das Ich aus einer dumpfen Tätigkeit heraus diese drei Glieder seiner Wesenheit schon umgestaltet. Das ist schon als Resultat vorhanden. Was wir in den vergangenen Vorträgen als innere Wesensglieder des Menschen erwähnten, konnte nur dadurch entstehen, daß das Ich an den drei Gliedern gearbeitet hat. An dem, was wir den astralischen Leib nennen, hat es die Empfindungsseele herausgearbeitet, gleichsam als inneres Spiegelbild des Empfindungsleibes. Während uns der Empfindungsleib dasjenige vermittelt, was wir Genuß nennen — Empfindungsleib und astralischer Leib ist für den Menschen dasselbe, ohne Empfindungsleib würden wir keine Genüsse haben können -, spiegelt sich der Genuß im Inneren, Seelenhaften als die Begierde, und Begierden schreiben wir dann der Seele zu. So gehören die beiden Dinge, der Astralleib und der umgewandelte Astralleib oder die Empfindungsseele, zusammen, wie Genuß und Begierde zusammengehören. Ebenso hat das Ich in der Vergangenheit bereits am Ätherleibe gearbeitet. Was es da gearbeitet hat, führt im Inneren, Seelenhaften des Menschen dazu, daß er in sich die Verstandesseele oder Gemütsseele trägt, so daß die Verstandesseele, die zugleich auch der Träger des Gedächtnisses ist, mit einer unterbewußten Umarbeitung des Ätherleibes vom Ich aus zusammenhängt. Und endlich hat das Ich in Zeiten der Vergangenheit, um den Menschen in der gegenwärtigen Gestalt möglich zu machen, auch schon an der Umgestaltung des physischen Leibes gearbeitet, und was dadurch entstanden ist, nennen wir die Bewußtseinsseele, durch die der Mensch zu einem Wissen über die Dinge der Außenwelt kommt. So können wir also auch in dieser Weise von einem siebengliedrigen Menschen sprechen, indem wir sagen: Durch eine vorbereitende, unterbewußte Tätigkeit des Ich sind die drei Seelenglieder, Empfindungsseele, Verstandesseele und Bewußtseinsseele entstanden. Aber alles dies ist eine unbewußte oder unterbewußte Arbeit des Ich an seinen Umhüllungen.

Nun fragen wir uns: Sind denn nicht die drei Glieder — der physische Leib, der Ätherleib und der Astralleib komplizierte Wesenheiten? — Oh, welcher Wunderbau ist dieser physische Menschenleib! Und wenn wir ihn näher prüfen, würden wir finden, daß dieser physische Leib viel komplizierter ist als nur jener Teil, den sich das Ich zur Bewußtseinsseele herausgearbeitet hat und den wir den physischen Träger der Bewußtseinsseele nennen können. Ebenso ist der Ätherleib viel komplizierter als dasjenige, was man den Träger der Verstandes- oder Gemütsseele nennen könnte. Und auch der astralische Leib ist komplizierter als dasjenige, was wir den Träger der Empfindungsseele nennen können. Geradezu arm sind diese Teile gegenüber dem, was schon da war, bevor der Mensch ein Ich hatte. Daher sprechen wir in der Geisteswissenschaft davon, daß der Mensch sich so entwickelt hat, daß in einer urfernen Vergangenheit die erste Anlage des physischen Leibes, und zwar aus geistigen Wesenheiten heraus, entstanden ist. Dann ist hinzugekommen der Ätherleib, noch später der astralische Leib und zuletzt erst das Ich. Daher hat der physische Leib des Menschen vier Stufen der Entwickelung hinter sich. Erst war der physische Leib in unmittelbarer Korrespondenz mit der geistigen Welt, dann wurde er herausgearbeitet und durchwoben und durchwirkt mit dem Ätherleib; dadurch wurde er komplizierter. Dann wurde. er durchsetzt mit dem astralischen Leib, wodurch er wieder komplizierter wurde. Dann kam das Ich hinzu. Und erst, was dieses an dem physischen Leibe getan hat, formte einen Teil des physischen Leibes heraus und machte ihn zum Träger dessen, was man menschliches Bewußtsein nennt, die Fähigkeit, daß wir uns ein Wissen von der Außenwelt verschaffen. Aber dieser physische Leib hat weit mehr zu tun, als uns durch unsere Sinne und unser Gehirn ein Wissen von der Außenwelt zu verschaffen, er hat eine Anzahl von Tätigkeiten zu verrichten, welche die Grundlage des Bewußstseins sind, die aber völlig außerhalb des Bereiches des Gehirns ablaufen. So ist es auch mit dem Ätherleib und dem Astralleib.

Wenn wir uns nun klar darüber sind, daß alles, was wir in der Außenwelt um uns herum haben, Geist ist, daß Geist, wie wir so oft betont haben, allem Materiellen, allem Ätherischen und Astralischen zugrunde liegt, dann müssen wir uns sagen: Gerade so, wie das Ich selber als ein Geistiges von innen heraus arbeitet, indem der Mensch sich entwickelt in seinen drei Wesensgliedern, so müssen — nennen wir es nun geistige Wesenheiten oder geistige Tätigkeiten, darauf kommt es nicht an — gearbeitet haben an unserem physischen Leib, Ätherleib und Astralleib, bevor das Ich sich geltend machte und in dem schon Bearbeiteten ein Stück weiterarbeitete. Wir schauen damit zurück in Zeiten, in denen sozusagen eine ebensolche Tätigkeit auf unseren Astralleib, Ätherleib und physischen Leib stattgefunden hat, wie heute eine Tätigkeit stattfindet vom Ich nach außen in diese drei Glieder hinein. Das heißt, wir müssen davon sprechen, daß geistiges Schaffen, geistige Tätigkeit an dem gearbeitet hat, worinnen wir eingehüllt sind, und Form, Bewegung, Gestalt und alles gegeben haben, bevor das Ich in die Lage kam, sich darinnen festzusetzen. Wir müssen davon sprechen, daß es geistige Betätigungen im Menschen gibt, die vor der Tätigkeit des Ich liegen, und daß wir geistige Tätigkeiten in uns tragen, welche die Voraussetzung für die Ich-Tätigkeit sind, und die vorhanden waren, bevor das Ich eingreifen konnte. Scheiden wir daher für einen Augenblick alles aus, was unser Ich herausgearbeitet hat aus den drei Gliedern unserer Wesenheit als Empfindungsseele, Verstandes- oder Gemütsseele und Bewußtseinsseele, und betrachten wir den Bau, die innere Bewegung und Tätigkeit dieser drei Hüllen der menschlichen Wesenheit, so müssen wir sagen, daß vor der Tätigkeit des Ich eine geistige Tätigkeit auf uns ausgeübt worden ist.

Daher sprechen wir in der Geisteswissenschaft davon, daß wir es beim Menschen, so wie er heute ist, mit einer individuellen Seele zu tun haben, mit einer von einem Ich durchwobenen Seele, wodurch jeder Mensch eine in sich selbst geschlossene Individualität ist. Und wir sprechen davon, daß, bevor der Mensch eine solche in sich geschlossene Ich-Wesenheit geworden ist, er das Ergebnis war einer Gruppenseele, einer Seelenhaftigkeit, so wie wir heute in der Tierwelt von Gruppenseelen noch sprechen. Da sagen wir: Was wir beim Menschen in jeder einzelnen Wesenheit als individuelle Seele suchen, das finden wir beim Tier in demjenigen, was einer ganzen Art oder Gattung im Tierreich zugrunde liegt. Eine ganze Tiergattung hat eine gemeinsame tierische Gruppenseele. Was beim Menschen die individuelle Seele ist, das ist beim Tier die Gattungsseele.

So arbeitete beim Menschen in seinen drei Wesensgliedern, bevor er eine individuelle Seele wurde, eine andere Seele - von der wir heute nur noch durch die Geisteswissenschaft Kunde erhalten —, welche die Vorgängerin unseres eigenen Ich war. Und diese Vorgängerin unseres Ich, diese Gruppen- oder Gattungsseele des Menschen, welche dann dem Ich die von ihr bearbeiteten drei Wesensglieder übergab, den physischen Leib, Ätherleib und Astralleib, um sie vom Ich weiter bearbeiten zu lassen, hat in ganz ähnlicher Art von ihrem Inneren, Seelenhaften heraus den physischen Leib, Ätherleib und astralischen Leib umgestaltet, bearbeitet, nach sich geregelt. Und die letzte Tätigkeit, die dem menschlichen Wesen zugrunde liegt, bevor es mit einem Ich begabt worden ist, die letzten Einflüsse, die vor der Geburt des Ich liegen, sie sind heute in dem niedergelegt, was wir die menschliche Sprache nennen. Wenn wir daher von unserem Bewufßtseinsleben, von unserem Verstandes- und Gemütsleben, von unserem Empfindungsleben ausgehen und auf das schauen, was seine Voraussetzungen sind, so kommen wir zu einer Seelenarbeit, die noch nicht von unserem Ich durchwirkt war, und deren Ergebnis wir in dem niedergelegt finden, was heute in der Sprache zum Ausdruck kommt.

Worin beruht denn äußerlich das, was wir als die vier Glieder der menschlichen Wesenheit bezeichnen? Wie drückt es sich im physischen Leibe rein äußerlich aus? Der physische Leib einer Pflanze sieht anders aus als der physische Leib eines Menschen. Warum? Weil in der Pflanze nur der physische Leib und der Ätherleib vorhanden sind, während im menschlichen physischen Leibe noch der astralische Leib und das Ich wirken. Was da innerlich wirkt, das formt und gestaltet auch den physischen Leib entsprechend um. Was hat denn in unseren physischen Leib hineingewirkt, indem er von einem Ätherleib oder Lebensleib durchsetzt worden ist?

Was wir in uns das Gefäß- oder Drüsensystem nennen, ist beim Menschen und auch beim Tier der äußere physische Ausdruck des Äther- oder Lebensleibes, das heißt, der Ätherleib ist der Architekt oder Bildner von dem, was wir das Drüsen- oder Gefäßsystem nennen. Der astralische Leib ist wiederum der Bildner von dem, was wir das Nervensystem nennen. Daher haben wir nur dort ein Recht von einem Nervensystem zu sprechen, wo ein astralischer Leib in einem Wesen vorhanden ist. Was ist nun beim Menschen der Ausdruck seines Ich? Das ist das Blutsystem, und zwar beim Menschen speziell das, was wir Blut unter dem Einfluß der inneren Lebenswärme nennen können. Alles, was das Ich am Menschen arbeitet, geht, wenn es in den physischen Leib hineingestaltet werden soll, auf dem Umwege durch das Blut. Deshalb ist das Blut ein so ganz «besonderer Saft». Wenn das Ich die Empfindungsseele, die Verstandesseele und die Bewußtseinsseele ausarbeitet, so dringt das, was das Ich vermag auszugestalten, zu konfigurieren, nur dadurch in den physischen Leib, daß das Ich die Fähigkeit hat, auf dem Umwege durch das Blut in den physischen Leib arbeitend einzugreifen. Unser Blut ist der Vermittler für astralischen Leib und Ich und alle ihre Tätigkeiten.

Wer wird nun daran zweifeln, wenn er das menschliche Leben auch nur oberflächlich betrachtet, daß der Mensch, so wie er von seinem Ich aus in der Bewußtseinsseele, Verstandesseele und Empfindungsseele arbeitet, auch seinen physischen Leib umformt und umgestaltet? Wer würde nicht in dem physiognomischen Ausdruck eine Ausgestaltung dessen sehen, was im Inneren wirkt und lebt? Und wer würde nicht zugeben, daß selbst das, was innere Gedankenarbeit ist, wenn es die ganze Seele ergreift, auch noch im Verlaufe eines Menschenlebens umgestaltend auf unser Gehirn wirkt? Unser Gehirn paßt sich unserem Denken an; es ist ein Werkzeug, das sich nach den Bedürfnissen unseres Denkens formt. Aber wenn wir uns das anschauen, was der Mensch heute schon von seinem Ich aus an seiner eigenen äußeren Wesenheit auszuarbeiten, gleichsam künstlerisch zu gestalten vermag, so ist es sehr wenig. Es ist wenig, was wir von unserem Blut aus dadurch zu tun vermögen, daß wir das Blut von dem aus, was wir unsere innerliche Wärme nennen, in Bewegung setzen.

Mehr haben diejenigen geistigen Wesenheiten vermocht, welche der Arbeit unseres Ich vorangegangen sind. Denn sie haben sich sozusagen eines wirksameren Mittels bedienen können, und so bildete sich unter ihrem Einfluß die menschliche Form so aus, daß sie im ganzen ein Ausdruck dessen ist, was diese vor dem menschlichen Ich arbeitenden geistigen Wesenheiten aus dem Menschen gemacht haben. In welchem Mittel arbeiteten denn diese Wesenheiten? Sie arbeiteten in keinem anderen Mittel als in der Luft. Wie wir in der innerlichen Wärme arbeiten und unser Blut pulsieren machen und dadurch das Blut in unserer eigenen Form zur Wirkung bringen, so brachten die vor unserem Ich an uns arbeitenden Wesenheiten die Luft zur Wirkung. Und von der Arbeit dieser Wesenheiten durch die Luft an uns selber ging etwas aus, was uns als Menschen eigentlich unsere Gestalt gegeben hat.

Es kann sonderbar erscheinen, wenn hier davon gesprochen wird, daß geistige Tätigkeiten durch die Luft am Menschen in urferner Vergangenheit gearbeitet haben. Ich habe schon einmal gesagt: Was in unserem Inneren auflebt als unser eigenes geistig-seelisches Leben, das würden wir verkennen, wenn wir es als bloße Vorstellungen aufnähmen und nicht wüßten, daß es aus der ganzen Außenwelt genommen ist. Wer da behaupten wollte, daß in uns Begriffe und Ideen entständen, wenn es auch draußen keine Ideen gäbe, der sollte auch nur gleich behaupten, daß er Wasser aus einem Glase schöpfen kann, in welchem kein Wasser ist. Unsere Begriffe wären Schaumgebilde, wenn sie etwas anderes wären als das, was auch in den Dingen draußen lebt, und was an den Dingen als ihre Gesetze vorhanden ist. Wir holen das, was wir in unserer Seele aufleben lassen, aus unserer Umgebung heraus. Deshalb können wir sagen: Alles, was uns materiell umgibt, ist durchwirkt und durchwoben von geistigen Wesenheiten.

So sonderbar es klingen mag: Was uns als Luft umgibt, ist nicht nur der Stoff, den uns die Chemie zeigt, sondern darinnen wirken geistige Wesenheiten und geistige Tätigkeiten. - Und so wie wir durch die Blutwärme, die von unserem Ich ausgeht — denn das ist das Wesentliche dabei -, unseren physischen Leib ein klein wenig formen können, so formten in mächtiger Weise diese Wesenheiten, die dem Ich vorangingen, an der äußeren Gestalt unseres physischen Menschen durch die Luft. Das ist für uns das Wesentliche. Wir sind Menschen durch unsere Kehlkopfeinrichtung und durch alles, was damit zusammenhängt. Was uns von außen als dieses wunderbare künstlerische Organ des Kehlkopfes im Zusammenhange mit den übrigen Stimm- und Sprachwerkzeugen eingeformt ist, ist aus dem herausgearbeitet, was die Luft geistig ist. Goethe hat so schön in bezug auf das Auge gesagt: Das Auge ist am Lichte für das Licht gebildet! - Wenn man im Schopenhauerischen Sinne nur betont: Ohne ein lichtempfindendes Auge wäre für uns der Lichteindruck nicht da -, so sagt man damit nur eine halbe Wahrheit. Die andere Hälfte ist die, daß wir kein Auge haben würden, wenn nicht aus unbestimmten Organen in urferner Vergangenheit das Licht gleichsam plastisch aus uns das Auge herausgebildet hätte. Wir haben daher im Lichte nicht bloß jene abstrakte Wesenheit zu sehen, die man heute physikalisch als Licht beschreibt, sondern im Lichte haben wir jene verborgene Wesenheit zu suchen, die imstande ist, sich ein Auge zu schaffen.

Das ist auf einem anderen Gebiete dasselbe, als wenn wir davon sprechen, daß die Luft von einer Wesenheit durchwirkt und durchlebt ist, die imstande war, in einer gewissen Zeit dem Menschen das kunstvolle Organ des Kehlkopfes und alles, was damit zusammenhängt, einzuprägen. Und alle übrige menschliche Gestalt — bis ins Kleinste hinein — ist so geformt und plastisch gestaltet worden, daß der Mensch auf der gegenwärtigen Stufe gleichsam eine weitere Ausführung seiner Sprachwerkzeuge ist. Die Sprachwerkzeuge sind etwas, was zunächst für die Form des Menschen das eigentlich maßgebende ist. Daher hebt gerade die Sprache den Menschen “über die Tierheit hinaus, weil jenes geistige Wesen, das wir den Geist der Luft nennen, zwar auch in der Tierheit geformt und gearbeitet hat, aber nicht so, daß diese Wirksamkeit bis dahin gelangt wäre, wo sich ein Sprachorganismus entwickeln konnte, wie ihn der Mensch hat. Alles, mit Ausnahme dessen, was das Ich unbewußt, zum Beispiel als Gehirn herausgearbeitet hat, was es an den Sinnen vervollkommnet hat, alles, mit Ausnahme dessen, was Ich-Tätigkeit ist, ist eine vor dieser Ich-Tätigkeit des Menschen liegende Tätigkeit, die darauf bedacht war, den Menschenleib so auszubilden, daß er ein weiterer Ausdruck dieses Sprachorganes ist. Es ist jetzt keine Zeit dazu, auszuführen, warum zum Beispiel die Vögel trotz ihres vollkommenen Gesanges auf einer Stufe stehengeblieben sind, auf der sie in ihrer Form nicht ein Ausdruck desjenigen Organes sein können, das wir im weitesten Umfange das Stimmorgan nennen.

So sehen wir, wie der Mensch innerlich schon in seinen Sprachorganen organisiert gewesen ist, bevor er zu seinem jetzigen Denken, zu seinem Gemüt und seinem Willen gekommen ist, das heißt zu allem, was mit dem Ich zusammenhängt. Nun werden wir es begreiflich finden, daß diese geistigen Tätigkeiten nur so am physischen Leib formen konnten, daß der Mensch zuletzt gleichsam ein Anhangorgan seiner Sprachwerkzeuge wurde, indem sie den astralischen Leib, den Ätherleib, den physischen Leib durch die Einflüsse, durch die Konfiguration der Luft ausbauten. Nachdem der Mensch so fähig geworden war, in sich ein Organ zu haben, das dem entspricht, was wir die geistige Wesenheit der Luft nennen, geradeso wie das Auge der geistigen Wesenheit des Lichtes entspricht, konnte er da hineinkonfigurieren, was sein Ich als Verstand, als Bewußtsein, Empfindung, Gemüt sich selber einprägte. So müssen wir eine dreifache Tätigkeit im Unterbewußten suchen, eine gleichsam vor dem Ich liegende Tätigkeit für den physischen Leib, den Ätherleib und den astralischen Leib. Wir finden Anhaltspunkte dazu, indem wir wissen, daß dies die Gruppenseele gewesen ist, und daß die Gruppenseele in einer unvollkommenen Tätigkeit am Tier gearbeitet hat.

Das müssen wir betrachten, wenn wir die Arbeit dieser vor dem Ich liegenden geistigen Tätigkeit im astralischen Leib ins Auge fassen. Da müssen wir alles Ich ausgeschaltet denken, aber dabei das ins Auge fassen, was das Gruppen-Ich wie aus einem dunklen Untergrunde heraus gearbeitet hat. Da stehen sich im astralischen Leib auf einer unvollkommenen Stufe gegenüber Begierde und Genuß. Und die Begierde konnte dadurch gleichsam verseelt werden, in eine innere Fähigkeit umgearbeitet werden, daß sie schon einen Vorläufer in dem astralischen Leib des Menschen hatte.

Wie Begierde und Genuß im astralischen Leib, so stehen sich gegenüber im Ätherleibe Bildhaftigkeit, Symbolik und äußerer Reiz. Das ist das Wesentliche, daß wir diese vor dem Ich liegende Tätigkeit unseres Ätherleibes so auffassen, daß sie sich von der Ich-Tätigkeit im Ätherleib unterscheidet. Wenn unser Ich tätig ist als Verstandesseele oder Gemütsseele, so sucht es auf der heutigen Entwickelungsstufe des Menschen sozusagen eine Wahrheit, die möglichst ein getreues Abbild der äußeren Dinge ist. Was nicht genau den äußeren Dingen entspricht, nennt man nicht wahr. Diejenigen geistigen Tätigkeiten, die vor der Wirksamkeit unseres Ich liegen, arbeiteten nicht so; sie arbeiteten mehr symbolisch, mehr bildhaft, wie etwa der Traum arbeitet. Der Traum arbeitet zum Beispiel so, daß jemand träumt, es werde ein Schuß abgefeuert, und wenn er aufwacht, sieht er, daß der Stuhl neben seinem Bett umgefallen ist. Was äußerliches Geschehnis und äußerer Eindruck ist — der umgefallene Stuhl —, wird im Traum in ein Sinnbild umgewandelt, in den abgefeuerten Schuß. So arbeiteten die vor dem Ich liegenden geistigen Wesenheiten symbolisch, wie wir wiederum arbeiten, wenn wir uns zu einer höheren geistigen Tätigkeit durch die Initiation oder Einweihung hinaufarbeiten, wo wir wiederum versuchen — jetzt aber mit vollem Bewußtsein -, von der bloßen abstrakten Außenwelt uns in die Symbolik, in die Bildhaftigkeit hineinzuarbeiten.

Dann arbeiteten diese geistigen Wesenheiten an dem menschlichen physischen Leib, indem sie den Menschen zu dem machten, was man nennen kann Entsprechung von äußeren Geschehnissen, äußeren Tatsachen und Nachahmung. Nachahmung ist etwas, was wir zum Beispiel beim Kind finden, wenn noch die anderen Seelenglieder wenig entwickelt sind. Nachahmung ist etwas, was zum unterbewußten Wesen der Menschennatur gehört. Daher sollen wir die erste Erziehung auf Nachahmung begründen, weil im Menschen, bevor das Ich beginnt, in seinen inneren Tätigkeiten Ordnung zu schaffen, der Nachahmungstrieb wie ein natürlicher Trieb vorhanden ist.

Was jetzt auseinandergesetzt worden ist: der Nachahmungstrieb im physischen Leibe gegenüber den äußeren Tätigkeiten, das Symbolisieren im Ätherleibe gegenüber dem äußeren Reiz, und das, was wir nennen können das Entsprechen von Begierde und Genuß im astralischen Leib, das alles denken wir uns ausgearbeitet mit Hilfe des Werkzeuges der Luft und hineingearbeitet in uns so, daß gleichsam ein plastischer, ein künstlerischer Eindruck davon entstanden ist in unserem Kehlkopf und in unserem ganzen Stimmapparat. Dann werden wir uns sagen können: Diese vor dem Ich liegenden Wesenheiten arbeiteten am Menschen so, daß sie durch die Luft an dem Menschen in der Weise formten und gliederten, daß nach dieser dreifachen Richtung hin die Luft im Menschen zum Ausdruck kommen konnte.

Wenn wir nämlich im wahren Sinne des Wortes das Sprachvermögen betrachten, so müssen wir fragen: Ist es der Ton, was wir hervorbringen? — Nein, der Ton ist es nicht. Was wir tun, das ist, daß wir von unserem Ich aus dasjenige in Bewegung setzen und formen, was durch die Luft in uns hineingeformt und hineingegliedert ist. Gerade so, wie wir das Auge in Bewegung setzen, um das aufzunehmen, was äußerlich als Licht wirkt, während das Auge selbst zu dieser Aufnahme von Licht da ist, so sehen wir, wie in uns selber vom Ich aus jene Organe in Bewegung gesetzt werden, die aus dem Geistigen der Luft heraus gebildet worden sind. Wir setzen die Organe in Bewegung durch das Ich; wir greifen in die Organe ein, die dem Geist der Luft entsprechen, und wir müssen abwarten, bis der Geist der Luft, von dem die Organe gebildet sind, uns selber — als Echo unserer Lufträtigkeit — den Ton entgegentönt. Den Ton erzeugen wir nicht, wie auch nicht die einzelnen Teile einer Pfeife den Ton erzeugen. Wir erzeugen von uns aus dasjenige, was unser Ich als Tätigkeit entfalten kann durch die Benutzung jener Organe, die aus dem Geiste der Luft heraus gebildet sind. Dann müssen wir es dem Geist der Luft überlassen, daß die Luft wieder in Bewegung kommt durch jene Tätigkeit, durch welche die Organe erzeugt worden sind, so daß das Wort erklingt.

So sehen wir in der Tat, wie die menschliche Sprache auf diesem dreifachen Entsprechen, das wir angeführt haben, beruhen muß. Aber, was soll sich entsprechen? Worauf soll gerade die Nachahmung im physischen Leibe beruhen? Die Nachahmung im physischen Leibe muß darauf beruhen, daß wir dasjenige, was wir als äußerliche Tätigkeiten, als äußere Dinge wahrnehmen, was einen Eindruck auf uns macht, in den Bewegungen unserer Stimmorgane nachahmen, daß wir alles, was wir zunächst als Ton widerklingend hören, hervorbringen, indem wir durch das Prinzip des physischen Leibes Nachahmende dessen sind, was einen äußeren Eindruck auf uns macht, geradeso wie der Maler eine Szene nachahmt, die in ganz anderen Elementen als Farbe und Leinwand, Hell und Dunkel besteht. Wie der Maler mit Hell und Dunkel nachahmt, so ahmen wir nach, was äußerlich an uns herantritt, indem wir unsere Organe nachahmend in Bewegung setzen, jene Organe, die aus dem Element der Luft gebildet worden sind. Deshalb ist das, was wir im Laut hervorbringen, eine wirkliche Nachahmung des Wesens der Dinge, und unsere Konsonanten und Vokale sind nichts anderes als Abbilder und Nachahmungen dessen, was von außen einen Eindruck auf uns macht.

Was wir dann im Ätherleib haben, ist eine bildhafte Arbeit. Da wird in den Ätherleib hineingearbeitet, was wir Symbolik nennen können. Daher müssen wir es begreiflich finden, daß allerdings zuerst durch Nachahmung dasjenige entstanden ist, was die ersten Elemente unserer Sprache sind, daß dies dann aber fortgebildet wurde, indem es sich gleichsam losriß von den äußeren Eindrücken und dann weiterverarbeitet wurde. Da verarbeitet der Ätherleib in der Symbolik, wie beim Traum, dasjenige, was den äußeren Eindrücken nicht mehr ähnlich ist, und darinnen besteht das Fortwirkende des Lautes. Zunächst verarbeitet der Ätherleib dasjenige, was eine bloße Nachahmung ist, dann arbeitet sich das, was bloße Nachahmung ist, im AÄtherleib selbständig um, so daß es dadurch ein Selbständiges wird. So ist das, was wir innerlich verarbeitet haben, nur noch symbolisch, sinnbildlich den äußeren Eindrücken entsprechend. Da sind wir nicht mehr bloße Nachahmende.

Und endlich kommt ein Drittes. Begierde, Affekt, alles, was innerlich lebt, drückt sich im astralischen Leib aus, und das wirkt wieder so, daß es den Ton weiter umformt. Das heißt, die innerlichen Erlebnisse strahlen gleichsam von innen heraus in den Ton ein. Schmerz und Freude, Lust und Leid, Begierde, Wunsch, das alles strahlt in den Ton ein, und dadurch kommt das subjektive Element in den Ton hinein. Was bloße Nachahmung ist, was weitergebildet ist als Sprachsymbolum in dem selbständig gewordenen Tonbild oder Wortbild, das wird jetzt weiter umgebildet, indem es durchstrahlt wird von dem, was der Mensch innerlich erlebt als Schmerz und Freude, Lust und Leid, Entsetzen und Furcht und so weiter. Immer muß es ein äußerliches Entsprechen sein, was sich im Ton von der Seele losringt. Aber wenn die Seele innerlich das, was sie erlebt, ausdrückt, es gleichsam im Ton ausklingen läßt, dann muß sie das äußere Erlebnis erst dazu suchen. Daher müssen wir sagen: Das dritte Element, wo sich innerlich, seelenhaft, Lust und Leid, Schmerz und Freude, Entsetzen und so weiter im Ton ausdrückt, das muß erst suchen, was ihm entspricht. Bei der Nachahmung ist der äußere Eindruck nachgeahmt, das innere Tonbild oder dasjenige, was als Symbol entstanden ist, ist eine Weiterbildung. Aber dasjenige, was der Mensch nur aus innerer Freude, Schmerz und so weiter ertönen ließe, das würde ja nur eine Ausstrahlung sein, dem nichts entsprechen könnte. Was hier die Entsprechung zwischen äußerem Wesen und innerem Erleben ist, das heißt, was hier geschieht, das können wir fortwährend bei unseren Kindern beobachten, wenn sie sprechen lernen. Da können wir sehen, wie das Kind beginnt, irgend etwas, was es fühlt, in den Ton umzusetzen. Wenn das Kind zuerst Ma und Pa schreit, so ist das nichts anderes als ein innerliches Umgießen des Affektes in den Laut. Es ist nur die Äußerung eines Inneren. Wenn aber dieses Kind sich so äußert, dann kommt zum Beispiel die Mutter herbei, und das Kind merkt dann, daß demjenigen, was sich innerlich als Freude äußert, indem es sich umgießt in den Laut Ma, ein äußeres Ereignis entspricht. Das Kind fragt natürlich nicht, wie das geschieht, daß es in diesem Falle dem Herbeieilen der Mutter entspricht. Da gesellt sich zusammen inneres Erlebnis von Freude oder Schmerz und äußerer Eindruck, und es verbindet sich das, was von innen hervorstrahlt mit dem äußeren Eindruck. Das ist eine dritte Art, wie die Sprache wirkt. Daher können wir sagen: Die Sprache ist ebensosehr von außen nach innen durch Nachahmung entstanden, wie sie entstanden ist durch das, was man nennen kann das Hinzugesellen der äußeren Wirklichkeit zu dem, was unser Inneres äußert. Denn das, was dazu geführt hat aus einer inneren Äußerung - Ma, Pa - die Worte Mama und Papa zu bilden, weil diese Äußerung sich im Herbeieilen von Mutter oder Vater befriedigt fühlte, das geschieht in unzähligen Fällen. Überall, wo der Mensch sieht, daß irgend etwas auf eine innere Äußerung folgt, da verbindet sich für ihn das, was der Ausdruck der inneren Wesenheit ist, mit einem Äußeren.

Das alles geschieht ohne Zutun des Ich. Erst später übernimmt das Ich diese Tätigkeit. Auf diese Art sehen wir das, was vor dem Ich liegt, an jener Konfiguration arbeiten, welche der menschlichen Sprachausdrucksfähigkeit zugrunde liegt. Und dadurch, daß das Ich da hineintritt, nachdem die Grundlage zur Sprache bereits geschaffen ist, gliedert sich entsprechend dem Wesen des Ich wiederum die Sprache. Dadurch werden die Äußerungen, welche dem Empfindungsleib entsprechen, von der Empfindungsseele durchdrungen; die Bilder und Symbole, weiche dem Ätherleib entsprechen, werden von der Verstandesseele durchdrungen. Der Mensch gießt hinein in den Laut, was er in der Verstandesseele erlebt, und er gießt ebenso hinein, was er in der Bewußtseinsseele erlebt, was zunächst bloße Nachahmung war. Auf diese Weise sind dann nach und nach jene Gebiete unserer Sprache entstanden, welche Wiedergaben dessen sind, was innere Erlebnisse der Seele darstellen.

So müssen wir uns klar sein, um das Wesen der Sprache zu verstehen, daß sozusagen in uns etwas lebt, was vor dem Ich und vor aller Tätigkeit des Ich wirkte, und daß darin erst das Ich hineingegossen hat, was es ausbilden kann. Dann müssen wir aber auch keinen Anspruch darauf machen, daß die Sprache genau dem entspreche, was aus dem Ich stammt, und daß unserem Geistigen, allem Intimeren unserer individuellen Wesenheit genau die Sprache entspricht, sondern wir müssen uns klar sein, daß wir in der Sprache niemals den unmittelbaren Ausdruck des Ich sehen können. Symbolisch zum Beispiel arbeitet der Sprachgeist in dem Ätherleib, nachahmend in dem physischen Leib, das alles zusammen mit dem, was der Sprachgeist aus der Empfindungsseele herausarbeitet, indem er die innerlichen Erlebnisse aus ihr herauspreßt, so daß wir in dem Laut eine Ausstrahlung des Innenlebens haben. Das alles zusammengenommen soll uns rechtfertigen, wenn wir sagen: Nicht nach der Art des im heutigen Sinne bewußten Ich ist die Sprache ausgearbeitet, sondern, wenn wir die Ausarbeitung der Sprache mit irgend etwas vergleichen wollen, können wir sie nur mit dem künstlerischen Arbeiten vergleichen. Ebensowenig wie wir von der Nachahmung, die der Künstler gibt, verlangen können, daß sie der Wirklichkeit entspricht, ebensowenig können wir verlangen, daß die Sprache dasjenige nachbildet, was sie darstellen soll. - Wir haben in der Sprache etwas, was nur so wiedergibt, was draußen ist, wie das Bild, wie der Künstler überhaupt wiedergibt, was draußen ist. Und wir dürfen sagen: Ehe der Mensch ein selbstbewußter Geist im heutigen Sinne war, war in ihm ein Künstler tätig, der als Sprachgeist gewirkt hat. - Wir haben unser Ich hineingelegt in eine Stätte, wo vorher ein Künstler seine Tätigkeit ausgeübt hat. Das ist zwar selbst wieder etwas bildhaft gesprochen, aber es gibt die Wahrheit auf diesem Gebiete wieder. Wir sehen in eine unterbewußte Tätigkeit und fühlen, daß wir da etwas haben, was aus uns selber den sprechenden Menschen als künstlerisches Werk gemacht hat. Und die Sprache müssen wir daher nach Analogie eines Kunstwerkes auffassen. Dazu müssen wir nicht vergessen, daß wir jedes Kunstwerk nur so auffassen können, wie es die Mittel der betreffenden Kunst gestatten. Daher wird uns auch die Sprache gewisse Beschränkungen auferlegen müssen. Wenn man das berücksichtigte, würde es von vornherein ausgeschlossen sein, daß ein aus einem pedantischen Wurf hervorgegangenes Werk zustande kommen könnte wie die «Kritik der Sprache» von Fritz Mauthner. Da geht die Sprachkritik von ganz falschen Voraussetzungen aus, nämlich davon, daß, wenn man die Sprachen der Menschen übersieht, sie einem in keiner Weise die objektive Wirklichkeit richtig geben. Sollen sie diese denn geben? Ist denn eine Möglichkeit, daß sie diese geben? Geradesowenig ist eine Möglichkeit dafür vorhanden, daß die Sprache die Wirklichkeit wiedergibt, als das Bild, wenn es auf der Leinwand mit Farben und Hell und Dunkel die äußere Wirklichkeit darstellen soll. Mit künstlerischem Sinn muß aufgefaßt werden, was als der Sprachgeist dem Menschenwirken zugrunde liegt.

Das alles konnte nur skizzenhaft dargestellt werden. Wenn man aber weiß, daß ein Künstler in der Menschheit wirkt, der die Sprache formt, dann wird man verstehen - so verschieden auch die einzelnen Sprachen sich ausnehmen mögen -, daß selbst in den einzelnen Sprachen der Menschheit der künstlerische Sinn in der verschiedensten Weise gearbeitet hat. Da werden wir verstehen, wie dieser Sprachgeist — nennen wir jetzt diese durch die Luft wirkende Wesenheit den Sprachgeist -, wenn er sich auf einer verhältnismäßig niederen Stufe im Menschen manifestierte, so arbeitete wie der atomistische Geist, der alles aus den einzelnen Teilen zusammensetzen möchte. Da haben wir denn die Möglichkeit, daß eine Sprache so gefügt ist, daß aus einzelnen Lautbildern der ganze Satz sich zusammensetzt.

Wenn wir zum Beispiel im Chinesischen den Laut sch: und king haben, so haben wir darin zwei Atome der Sprachbildung. Die eine Silbe schi = Lied, Gesang; die andere würde bedeuten: Buch. Wenn wir die beiden Lautbilder zusammensetzten: schi-king, dann würde man es so gemacht haben, wie wenn wir im Deutschen zusammensetzen Lied-Buch, dann würde sich durch diese Atomisierung etwas ergeben, was nun — als Ganzes erfaßt — Lieder-Buch wird. Das würde ein kleines Beispiel dafür geben, wie die chinesische Sprache ihre Begriffe und Vorstellungen bildet.

Wenn wir das, was wir heute betrachtet haben, in unserer Seele verarbeiten, können wir nun auch begreifen, wie eine so wunderbar gebildete Sprache wie die semitische zum Beispiel in ihrem Geiste zu betrachten ist. In der semitischen Sprache haben wir als Grundlage gewisse Tonbilder, welche eigentlich nur aus Konsonanten bestehen. Und nun setzt der Mensch in diese Tonbilder Vokale hinein. Wenn wir also, um das nur durch ein Beispiel zu erklären, die Konsonanten nehmen \(g\), \(t\), \(l\), und da hineinsetzen ein \(a\) und wiederum ein \(a\), dann wäre, während das nur aus den Konsonanten gebildete Wort die bloße Nachahmung eines äußeren Lauteindruckes ist, durch das Hineinfügen der Vokale entstanden: qatal = töten.

So haben wir hier ein merkwürdiges Durchdringen, indem töten als Tonbild dadurch entstanden ist, daß der äußere Vorgang einfach durch die Sprachorgane nachgeahmt worden ist; das ist zunächst das ursprüngliche Tonbild. Dann wird das, was die Seele weiter zu bilden hat und was nur innerlich erlebt werden kann, weitergebildet, indem aus dem Inneren noch etwas hinzugefügt wird. Es wird das Tonbild weitergebildet, damit das Töten auf ein Subjekt zurückgeht. In dieser Weise ist im Grunde genommen die ganze semitische Sprache zusammengesetzt, und es drückt sich in ihr aus, was wir als das Zusammenwirken der verschiedenen Elemente der Sprachbildung in dem ganzen Bau der Sprache aufgezählt haben. In der Symbolik, die vorzugsweise in der semitischen Sprache wirksam ist — also, was wir im Ätherleib als Sprachgeist wirksam gefunden haben -, zeigt sich uns die ganze Eigentümlichkeit der semitischen Sprache, die alle die nachgeahmten einzelnen Tonbilder weiterbildet und durch die Einfügung von Vokalen zu Sinnbildern umbildet.

Daher sind im Grunde genommen alle Worte der semitischen Sprache so gebildet, daß sie sich wie Sinnbilder auf das beziehen, was uns in der Außenwelt umgibt. Dagegen ist alles, was in den indogermanischen Sprachen auftritt, mehr angeregt von dem, was wir innere Äußerung des astralischen Leibes genannt haben, der inneren Wesenheit. Der Astralleib ist schon etwas, was mit dem Bewußtsein zusammenhängt. Wenn man sich der Außenwelt entgegenstellt, unterscheidet man sich von der Außenwelt. Wenn man sich nur vom Gesichtspunkte des Ätherleibes der Außenwelt gegenüberstellt, verschmilzt man mit ihr, ist mit ihr eins. Erst wenn sich die Dinge im Bewußtsein spiegeln, unterscheidet man sich von den Dingen. Dieses Arbeiten des astralischen Leibes mit seinen ganzen inneren Erlebnissen ist in den indogermanischen Sprachen im Unterschiede zu den semitischen Sprachen dadurch wunderbar ausgedrückt, daß sie das Verbum sein haben, das Konstatieren dessen, was ohne unser Zutun vorhanden ist. Das ist dadurch möglich, daß man sich mit seinem Bewußtsein unterscheidet von dem, was einen äußeren Eindruck macht. Wenn daher im Semitischen zum Beispiel ausgedrückt werden sollte: Gott ist gut —, so würde man das nicht unmittelbar können, denn man kann das Wort :st, welches das Sein ausdrückt, nicht wiedergeben, weil es schon von der Entgegensetzung des astralischen Leibes und der Außenwelt herkommt. Der Ätherleib stellt die Dinge einfach hin. Daher würde man in der semitischen Sprache zu sagen haben: Gott, der Gute. — Es wird nicht die Gegenüberstellung des Subjektes und des Objektes charakterisiert. Diese sich von der Außenwelt unterscheidenden Sprachen, welche als ein Wesentliches enthalten, daß ein Teppich von Wahrnehmungen über die Außenwelt ausgegossen wird, sind vorzugsweise die indogermanischen Sprachen. Diese wirken nun auch wieder so auf den Menschen zurück, daß sie die Innerlichkeit, das heißt alles, was man die Anlage nennen kann, um eine starke Individualität, ein starkes Ich auszubilden, unterstützen. Das liegt hier schon in der Sprache ausgedrückt.

Das alles, was ich Ihnen geben konnte, wird von manchen vielleicht nur wie unbefriedigende Andeutungen hingenommen werden, aus dem einfachen Grunde, weil man ja vierzehn Tage reden müßte, wenn man auf diesem Gebiet alles ausführlicher darstellen wollte. Allein, wer öfter hier diese Vorträge gehört hat und in den Geist der Sache eingedrungen ist, wird sehen, daß eine solche Anregung, wie sie heute gegeben worden ist, nicht unberechtigt ist. Sie soll nur zeigen, wie eine geisteswissenschaftliche Sprachbetrachtung angeregt werden kann, welche im Grunde genommen zu dem Resultat führt, daß die Sprache gar nicht anders verstanden werden kann, als daß man sie mit einem künstlerischen Sinn zu begreifen versucht, den man sich zu eigen gemacht haben muß. Daher wird alle Gelehrsamkeit scheitern, wenn sie nicht nachschaffen will, was der Sprachkünstler im Menschen getan hat, bevor das Ich in uns wirken konnte. Künstlerischer Sinn allein kann die Geheimnisse der Sprache erfassen, wie auch künstlerischer Sinn überhaupt nur nachschaffen kann. Nicht gelehrte Abstraktionen können jemals ein Kunstwerk begreiflich machen. Erst jene Ideen leuchten hinein in die Kunstwerke, welche als Ideen in fruchtbarer Art dasjenige nachzuschaffen imstande sind, was der Künstler mit anderen Mitteln, mit Farbe, Ton und so weiter zum Ausdruck gebracht hat. Künstlerischer Sinn begreift allein den Künstler, und Sprachkünstler allein begreifen das Schöpferisch-Geistige im Entstehen der Sprache. Das ist das eine, was die Geisteswissenschaft in bezug auf die Sprache zu leisten hat.

Das andere ist etwas, was im Praktischen seine Bedeutung hat. Wenn wir verstehen, wie die Sprache aus einem inneren, vormenschlichen Künstler entstanden ist, werden wir uns auch dazu aufschwingen können, daß wir da, wo wir etwas sprechen wollen oder etwas durch die Sprache darstellen wollen, was Anspruch darauf macht, Geltung zu erhalten, auch diesen künstlerischen Sinn müssen wirken lassen. Dafür ist aber in unserer heutigen Zeit, wo man in bezug auf das lebendige Fühlen der Sprache nicht besonders weit ist, nur wenig Sinn vorhanden. Heute glaubt ein jeder, wenn er nur überhaupt reden kann, alles ausdrücken zu dürfen. Aber wir müssen uns darüber klar sein, daß wir wieder in unserer Seele einen unmittelbaren Zusammenhang schaffen müssen zwischen dem, was wir durch die Sprache ausdrükken wollen, und dem, wie wir es ausdrücken. Wir müssen den Sprachkünstler in uns auf allen Gebieten wiedererwecken. Heute sind die Menschen zufrieden, wenn in einer noch so beliebigen Form dasjenige ausgedrückt wird, was sie sagen wollen. Und wie viele Menschen haben einen Begriff davon, was auf geisteswissenschaftlichem Gebiet unbedingt notwendig ist, daß sprachkünstlerischer Sinn für eine jegliche Darstellung nötig wäre! Versuchen Sie einmal, wirkliche Darstellungen der geisteswissenschaftlichen Materie zu prüfen. Da werden Sie finden, daß derjenige, der als wahrer, echter Geisteswissenschafter solche Dinge geschrieben hat, auch wirklich daran gearbeitet hat, um künstlerisch einen jeden Satz auszugestalten, und daß da nicht in beliebiger Weise ein Zeitwort am Ende oder am Anfang steht. Da werden Sie finden, daß ein jeder solcher Satz eine Geburt ist, weil er innerlich, seelisch, nicht bloß als Gedanke, sondern als unmittelbare Form erlebt werden soll. Und wenn Sie den Zusammenhang des Dargestellten verfolgen, dann werden Sie sehen, daß bei drei aufeinanderfolgenden Sätzen der mittlere nicht bloß an den ersten angehängt ist und der dritte wiederum an den vorhergehenden, sondern Sie werden finden, daß derjenige, der Geisteswissenschaftliches darstellt, nicht bloß den ersten Satz, sondern auch den dritten Satz bereits fertig in seiner Anlage hat, bevor er den mittleren gestaltet, weil die Wirkung des mittleren Satzes von dem abhängen soll, was als Wirkung des ersten Satzes zurückbleibt und wiederum auf den nächstfolgenden Satz übergehen kann.

In der Geisteswissenschaft ist nicht ohne künstlerisch wirkenden Sprachsinn zu schaffen. Alles andere ist vom Übel. Da handelt es sich darum, daß wir loskommen von dem sklavischen Gekettetsein an die Worte. Das können wir aber nicht, wenn wir denken, daß irgendein Wort den Gedanken ausdrücken könnte, den wir haben, denn dann sind wir schon im Irrtum mit unserer Sprachbildung. Aus den Worten, die ganz auf die Sinneswelt hin geprägt sind, können wir nimmermehr gewinnen, was Ausdruck für übersinnliche Tatsachen sein soll. Wer fragen kann: Wie soll man den Ätherleib oder den astralischen Leib in Wirklichkeit ganz konkret durch ein Wort ausdrücken? — hat noch nichts davon verstanden. Erst der hat etwas verstanden, der so zu Werke geht, daß er sich sagt: Ich werde erfahren, was der Ätherleib ist, wenn ich mir zuerst einmal von der einen Seite darüber etwas erzählen lasse, und mir bewußt bin, daß es sich dabei um künstlerisch gebildete Reflexbilder handelt; und dann lasse ich mir dasselbe von drei anderen Seiten darstellen. -— Da haben wir dieselbe Sache von vier verschiedenen Seiten her dargestellt, so daß wir in den Darstellungen, die wir durch die Sprache geben, indem wir gleichsam um die Sache herumgehen, künstlerische Reflexbilder der Sache darstellen. Wenn man sich dessen nicht bewußt ist, wird man nichts anderes herausbekommen als Abstraktionen und eine verknöcherte Wiedergabe dessen, was man schon weiß. Daher wird Entwickelung in der Geisteswissenschaft immer verbunden sein mit dem, was wir Fortbildung des inneren Sinnes und der inneren Gestaltungskraft unserer Sprache nennen können.

In diesem Sinne wird Geisteswissenschaft befruchtend auf den heutigen Sprachstil wirken, wird umgestaltend auf unseren heutigen entsetzlichen Sprachstil wirken, der gar keine Ahnung davon hat, was sprachkünstlerisches Vermögen ist. Denn sonst würden nicht so viele Leute, die kaum sprechen und schreiben können, anfangen schriftstellerisch tätig zu sein. Das ist heute längst abgekommen, daß man sich dessen bewußt ist, daß zum Beispiel Prosa schreiben etwas viel Höheres ist als Verse schreiben; nur ist die Prosa, die heute geschrieben wird, selbstverständlich eine viel niedrigere Prosa. Aber die Geisteswissenschaft ist dazu da, auf jenen Gebieten die Anregungen zu geben, die mit den tiefsten Gebieten der Menschheit zusammenhängen. Denn Geisteswissenschaft wird auf diesen Gebieten so wirken, daß sie erfüllt, was die größten Persönlichkeiten werden geträumt haben. Geisteswissenschaft wird durch den Gedanken die übersinnlichen Welten erobern können, wird vermögend werden, den Gedanken so in das Lautbild umzugießen, daß auch unsere Sprache wieder ein Mitteilungsmittel dessen werden kann, was die Seele im Übersinnlichen erschaut. Dann wird Geisteswissenschaft das sein, was bewirken wird, daß in einem großen Umkreise zur Wahrheit werden wird, was für ein wichtigstes Gebiet des menschlichen Inneren der Spruch sagt:

Unermeßlich tief ist der Gedanke,
Und sein geflügelt Werkzeug ist das Wort!

Spiritual Science and Language

It is fascinating to consider the various expressions of human nature from the perspective of spiritual science, as spiritual science is understood here. For by circling around human life, as we have done in the course of these lectures, and considering it from its various aspects, we can gain an overall impression of it. Today we will talk about that universal expression of the human spirit which reveals itself in language, and next time, under the title “Laughter and Tears,” we will consider a kind of variation in human expressiveness which, although connected with language, is nevertheless fundamentally different from it.

When we talk about human language, we feel sufficiently how much the whole meaning and dignity and the whole essence of human beings is connected with what is called language. Our innermost life, all our thoughts, feelings, and impulses of will flow outward, as it were, toward our fellow human beings and connect us with them through language. In this way, we feel an infinite capacity for expansion of our being, a possibility of radiating this being into our surroundings through language. On the other hand, however, it is precisely those who are able to penetrate the inner life of human beings with a meaningful individuality who will be able to sense how human language is, in turn, a kind of tyrant, a power exerted on our inner life. If we only want to, we can feel that what we have to say to ourselves about our feelings and thoughts, about what passes through the soul with all its intimacy and uniqueness, can only be expressed sparsely and weakly in words, in language. And we also feel how the language we are placed in even imposes a certain way of thinking on us. Who could fail to know how dependent human beings are on language in their thinking! Words are often attached to our concepts, and in an imperfect state of development, human beings can even easily confuse the word or what the word instills in them with the concept. Hence the impossibility for some people to construct a conceptual world that extends beyond what is given to them by the words that are common in their environment. And we also know how the character of an entire people who speak a common language is in a certain way dependent on that language. At the very least, anyone who takes a closer look at the characteristics of peoples and languages in their context must realize how the way in which people are able to translate what lies in their souls into sounds has an effect on the strengths and weaknesses of their character, on the expression of their temperament, and indeed on their entire outlook on life. And the connoisseur will be able to deduce many things about the character of a people from the configuration of their language. But since language is common to a people, the individual is dependent on a commonality, as it were, on an average measure that prevails in the people. He is thus, in a sense, under the tyranny, under the power of commonality. But when one feels that, on the one hand, our individual spiritual life and, on the other hand, the spiritual life of commonalities are, so to speak, laid down in language, then what one might call the mystery of language appears to be something particularly significant. It can be said that one can certainly learn something about the soul life of human beings by observing how they express themselves in language.

The mystery of language, its origin, its development through the ages, has always been a puzzle for certain scientific disciplines. But it cannot be said that these scientific fields have been particularly successful in our age in unraveling the mystery of language. Therefore, today, from the perspective of spiritual science, as we are accustomed to applying it to human beings and their development, we will shed some light on language, its development, and its connection to human beings, in an aphoristic, sketch-like manner, so to speak.

This is what initially seems so mysterious when we describe any object, thing, or process with a word. How does that peculiar combination of sounds that forms the word or sentence relate to what comes from us and means the thing as a word? From the standpoint of external science, attempts have been made to combine the most diverse experiences into the most varied combinations. However, the unsatisfactory nature of such an approach has also been recognized. The question is so simple and yet so difficult to answer: How did humans come to produce this or that particular sound when something in the outside world encountered them, as if it were an echo of this or that object or process?

From a certain point of view, the matter was imagined to be quite simple. For example, it was thought that language formation was based on imitating what we hear externally as a sound, such as the sound of certain animals, or when something strikes another object, through the internal ability of our speech organs, much like a child who hears a dog barking “woof-woof!” and imitates this sound, which the dog calls “woof-woof.” Such word formation could be called onomatopoeic, an imitation of sound. Such imitation was thought to underlie the original formation of sounds and words, at least from certain points of view. Of course, the question remains completely unanswered: How does man then come to name those silent beings that make no sound? How does he ascend from the sound expression of an animal or a process that can be heard to one that cannot be heard? The great linguist Max Müller, recognizing the unsatisfactory nature of such speculation, ridiculed this theory and called it the “woof-woof theory.” Instead, he proposed another theory, which its opponents have in turn called “mystical” — and here the word is used in a sense in which it should not be used. Max Müller believes that every thing has something inherent in itself that is like sound. Everything has a sound in a certain way, not only a glass that is dropped, not only a bell that is struck, but every thing. And the ability of humans to establish a relationship between their soul and this sound, which is, as it were, an inner essence of things, evokes in the soul the possibility of expressing this inner sound essence of things, just as one can express the inner essence of a bell by feeling its tone in “bim-bam.” And Max Müller's opponents returned his mockery by calling his theory the “Bimbam theory.” If we were to continue listing further examples from the compilations made with great diligence, we would see that something unsatisfactory would always remain if we wanted to characterize in this way what human beings, as it were, echo from their souls to the essence of things. We must penetrate deeper into the inner being of human beings.

For spiritual science, the human being is basically a very complicated being. As he stands before us, he first has his physical body, which has the same laws and substantialities that we also find in the mineral world. Then, for spiritual science, the human being has a second, higher member of his being, the etheric body or life body. Then there is the member that we call the bearer of pleasure and pain, joy and sorrow, of instinct, desire, and passion: the astral body, which for spiritual science is just as real, indeed more real, a member of human nature than what can be seen with the eyes and touched with the hands. And we have called the fourth member of the human being the bearer of the I. We have also seen that human development at the present stage consists in working from the I to transform the other three members of the human being. We have also pointed out that in the distant future, the human I will have transformed these three members in such a way that nothing will remain of what nature or the spiritual powers inherent in nature have made of these three human members.

The astral body, the bearer of pleasure and pain, of joy and sorrow, of all the fluctuating ideas, feelings, and perceptions, came into being initially without our intervention, that is, without the work of our ego. But now the ego works on it, and it works in such a way that it purifies and cleanses and brings under its control everything that are the qualities and activities of the astral body. If the ego has worked only a little on the astral body, the human being is a slave to his instincts and desires; but if it purifies instincts and desires into virtues, if it has ordered what is erratic thinking along the thread of logic, then part of the astral body is transformed; it has become a product of the ego from a product on which the ego has not yet worked. When the ego consciously accomplishes this work, which is only just beginning in human development today, we call this part of the astral body that has been consciously transformed by the ego the spirit self, or, to use a term from Eastern philosophy, manas. When the ego works in a different, more intensive way, not only into the astral body but also into the etheric body, we call the part of the etheric body transformed by the ego the life spirit or, using a term from Eastern philosophy, the buddhi. And when the ego has finally become so strong, which, however, belongs to a distant future, that it transforms the physical body and regulates its laws, so that the I is present everywhere and is the ruler of what lives in the physical body, then we call this part of the physical body that has come under the rule of the I the spirit man or, because that work begins with regulating the breathing process, in a word from Eastern philosophy, Atman, which is related to breathing.

So we first have the human being as a four-part entity: consisting of the physical body, the etheric body, the astral body, and the I. And just as we have three parts of our entity that originate in the past, we can also speak of three parts of the human being that are developing into the future through the work of the I. And so we speak of a sevenfold nature of the human being, adding to the physical body, etheric body, astral body, and I the spirit self, life spirit, and spirit human. But if we look at these last three members as something distant, something in the future of human development, we must say that in a certain way human beings today are already prepared for this development. It will only be in the distant future that human beings will consciously work on these three members — the physical body, etheric body, and astral body — from their ego. But subconsciously, that is, without their full consciousness, the ego has already transformed these three members of their being out of a dull activity. This is already present as a result. What we mentioned in previous lectures as the inner members of the human being could only come into being because the ego has worked on the three members. From what we call the astral body, it has worked out the sentient soul, as it were, as an inner reflection of the sentient body. While the sentient body conveys to us what we call enjoyment — the sentient body and the astral body are the same thing for human beings; without the sentient body we would not be able to enjoy anything — enjoyment is reflected in the inner, soul-like realm as desire, and we then attribute desires to the soul. Thus, the two things, the astral body and the transformed astral body or the sentient soul, belong together, just as enjoyment and desire belong together. Similarly, the ego has already worked on the etheric body in the past. What it has worked on there leads to the inner, soul aspect of the human being carrying the intellectual soul or mind soul within itself, so that the intellectual soul, which is also the bearer of memory, is connected with a subconscious transformation of the etheric body by the ego. And finally, in times past, in order to make human beings possible in their present form, the ego has also worked on the transformation of the physical body, and what has come about as a result of this we call the consciousness soul, through which human beings come to a knowledge of the things of the outer world. So we can also speak of a seven-membered human being in this way, saying: Through a preparatory, subconscious activity of the I, the three soul members, the feeling soul, the intellectual soul, and the consciousness soul, have come into being. But all this is an unconscious or subconscious work of the I on its envelopes.

Now we ask ourselves: Are not the three members — the physical body, the etheric body, and the astral body — complicated entities? — Oh, what a marvelous structure is this physical human body! And if we examine it more closely, we would find that this physical body is much more complex than just the part that the I has worked out for the consciousness soul and which we can call the physical carrier of the consciousness soul. Similarly, the etheric body is much more complex than what could be called the carrier of the intellectual or emotional soul. And the astral body is also more complex than what we might call the carrier of the sentient soul. These parts are downright poor compared to what was already there before the human being had an ego. That is why we speak in spiritual science of the human being having developed in such a way that in the distant past the first beginnings of the physical body arose from spiritual beings. Then the etheric body was added, and even later the astral body, and finally the I. The physical body of the human being has therefore undergone four stages of development. First, the physical body was in direct correspondence with the spiritual world, then it was worked out and interwoven with the etheric body, which made it more complex. Then it became interwoven with the astral body, which made it even more complex. Then the ego was added. And only what the ego did to the physical body formed a part of the physical body and made it the carrier of what we call human consciousness, the ability to acquire knowledge of the outside world. But this physical body has much more to do than to provide us with knowledge of the outside world through our senses and our brain; it has a number of activities to perform which are the basis of consciousness, but which take place completely outside the realm of the brain. The same is true of the etheric body and the astral body.

If we are now clear that everything we have around us in the outside world is spirit, that spirit, as we have so often emphasized, underlies everything material, everything etheric and astral, then we must say to ourselves: Just as the I itself works from within as a spiritual entity, as human beings develop in their three constitutional elements, so too must — let us call them spiritual beings or spiritual activities, it does not matter — have worked on our physical body, etheric body, and astral body before the I asserted itself and continued to work on what had already been worked on. We thus look back to times when, so to speak, an activity similar to that which takes place today from the I outward into these three members took place on our astral body, etheric body, and physical body. This means that we must speak of spiritual creation, spiritual activity, working on what we are enveloped in, and giving form, movement, shape, and everything else before the ego was able to establish itself within it. We must speak of spiritual activities in human beings that precede the activity of the I, and that we carry within us spiritual activities that are the prerequisite for the activity of the I and that were present before the I could intervene. If we therefore exclude for a moment everything that our ego has worked out from the three members of our being as the feeling soul, the intellectual or emotional soul, and the conscious soul, and consider the structure, the inner movement, and activity of these three sheaths of the human being, we must say that before the activity of the ego, a spiritual activity was exerted upon us.

Therefore, in spiritual science we speak of the human being as he is today as having an individual soul, a soul interwoven with an I, whereby each human being is a self-contained individuality. And we speak of the fact that before human beings became such self-contained ego beings, they were the result of a group soul, a soul nature, just as we still speak of group souls in the animal world today. We say that what we seek in human beings in each individual being as an individual soul, we find in animals in what underlies an entire species or genus in the animal kingdom. An entire animal genus has a common animal group soul. What is the individual soul in humans is the genus soul in animals.

Thus, before humans became individual souls, another soul worked in their three members of being — one of which we now only learn about through spiritual science — which was the predecessor of our own I. And this predecessor of our ego, this group or species soul of the human being, which then handed over to the ego the three parts of the human being that it had worked on, the physical body, etheric body, and astral body, so that the ego could continue to work on them, transformed, worked on, and regulated the physical body, etheric body, and astral body from its inner soul nature. And the last activity that underlies the human being before it has been endowed with an ego, the last influences that precede the birth of the ego, are today laid down in what we call human language. Therefore, when we start from our conscious life, from our intellectual and emotional life, from our sensory life, and look at what its prerequisites are, we come to a soul work that was not yet permeated by our ego, and whose result we find laid down in what is expressed in language today.

What is the external basis of what we call the four members of the human being? How is it expressed purely externally in the physical body? The physical body of a plant looks different from the physical body of a human being. Why? Because only the physical body and the etheric body are present in the plant, while the astral body and the ego are also at work in the human physical body. What works internally also shapes and forms the physical body accordingly. What has worked into our physical body by permeating it with an etheric body or life body?

What we call the vascular or glandular system in humans and animals is the outer physical expression of the etheric or life body, that is, the etheric body is the architect or creator of what we call the glandular or vascular system. The astral body, in turn, is the creator of what we call the nervous system. Therefore, we only have the right to speak of a nervous system where an astral body is present in a being. What, then, is the expression of the I in human beings? It is the blood system, and in human beings specifically what we can call blood under the influence of inner life warmth. Everything that the I works on in human beings goes through the blood when it is to be formed in the physical body. That is why blood is such a very “special juice.” When the ego develops the sentient soul, the intellectual soul, and the conscious soul, what the ego is able to shape and configure only penetrates the physical body because the ego has the ability to intervene in the physical body by working indirectly through the blood. Our blood is the mediator between the astral body and the ego and all their activities.

Who would doubt, even when looking at human life only superficially, that the human being, as he works from his ego in the consciousness soul, the intellectual soul, and the sentient soul, also transforms and reshapes his physical body? Who would not see in physiognomic expression a manifestation of what is working and living within? And who would not admit that even inner thought work, when it takes hold of the whole soul, also has a transforming effect on our brain in the course of a human life? Our brain adapts to our thinking; it is a tool that shapes itself according to the needs of our thinking. But when we look at what human beings are already able to develop from their ego in their own outer being, to shape artistically, so to speak, it is very little. It is little that we are able to do from our blood by setting the blood in motion from what we call our inner warmth.

Those spiritual beings who preceded the work of our ego have been able to do more. For they have been able to use, so to speak, a more effective means, and thus, under their influence, the human form has developed in such a way that it is, on the whole, an expression of what these spiritual beings, working before the human ego, have made of the human being. What means did these beings use to work? They worked through nothing other than the air. Just as we work with our inner warmth and make our blood pulse, thereby bringing the blood in our own form to bear, so the beings working on us before our ego brought the air to bear. And from the work of these beings through the air on ourselves came something that actually gave us our human form.

It may seem strange to speak here of spiritual activities working on human beings through the air in the distant past. I have said before: we would misunderstand what comes to life within us as our own spiritual and soul life if we took it as mere ideas and did not know that it is taken from the whole outside world. Anyone who would claim that concepts and ideas arise within us even if there were no ideas outside should also claim that they can scoop water from a glass in which there is no water. Our concepts would be mere foam if they were anything other than what also lives in the things outside and what exists in the things as their laws. We draw what we bring to life in our souls from our surroundings. That is why we can say: Everything that surrounds us materially is interwoven and permeated by spiritual beings.

As strange as it may sound, what surrounds us as air is not only the substance that chemistry shows us, but spiritual beings and spiritual activities are at work within it. And just as we can shape our physical body a little bit through the warmth of our blood, which emanates from our ego—because that is the essential thing here—so these beings, which preceded the ego, powerfully shaped the outer form of our physical human being through the air. That is the essential thing for us. We are human beings through our larynx and everything connected with it. What is formed for us from outside as this wonderful artistic organ of the larynx in connection with the other vocal and speech organs is carved out of what the air is spiritually. Goethe said so beautifully in relation to the eye: The eye is formed by light for light! If one emphasizes only in the Schopenhauerian sense that without a light-sensitive eye, the impression of light would not be there for us, one is only telling half the truth. The other half is that we would have no eye if light had not, as it were, plastically formed the eye out of us from indeterminate organs in the distant past. Therefore, in light we do not merely see that abstract entity which is today described physically as light, but in light we must seek that hidden entity which is capable of creating an eye.

This is the same in another area as when we speak of the air being permeated and animated by an entity that was able, at a certain time, to impress upon humans the elaborate organ of the larynx and everything connected with it. And all the rest of the human form — down to the smallest detail — has been shaped and sculpted in such a way that, at the present stage, human beings are, as it were, a further development of their speech organs. The speech organs are something that is initially decisive for the form of the human being. Therefore, it is precisely language that lifts humans “above animality,” because that spiritual being that we call the spirit of the air has also formed and worked in animality, but not in such a way that this activity would have reached the point where a speech organism could develop as humans have it. Everything, with the exception of what the ego has unconsciously developed, for example, as the brain, what it has perfected in the senses, everything, with the exception of what is ego activity, is an activity that precedes this ego activity of the human being, which was concerned with developing the human body in such a way that it is a further expression of this speech organ. Now is not the time to explain why, for example, birds, despite their perfect singing, have remained at a stage where they cannot be an expression of that organ which we call, in the broadest sense, the vocal organ.

Thus we see how human beings were already internally organized in their speech organs before they attained their present thinking, their mind and their will, that is, everything connected with the ego. Now we will find it understandable that these spiritual activities could only form themselves in the physical body in such a way that human beings ultimately became, as it were, an appendage to their speech organs, as they developed the astral body, the etheric body, and the physical body through the influences and configuration of the air. Once human beings had become capable of having within themselves an organ that corresponds to what we call the spiritual essence of air, just as the eye corresponds to the spiritual essence of light, they were able to configure into it what their ego imprinted on itself as intellect, consciousness, feeling, and mind. Thus, we must look for a threefold activity in the subconscious, an activity that lies, as it were, before the ego for the physical body, the etheric body, and the astral body. We find clues to this in the knowledge that this was the group soul, and that the group soul worked on the animal in an imperfect activity.

We must consider this when we contemplate the work of this spiritual activity in the astral body, which lies before the ego. We must think of everything as excluded from the ego, but at the same time consider what the group ego has worked out as if from a dark background. Desire and pleasure stand opposite each other in the astral body on an imperfect level. And desire could be ensouled, as it were, transformed into an inner capacity, because it already had a precursor in the astral body of the human being.

Just as desire and pleasure stand opposite each other in the astral body, so figurativeness, symbolism, and external stimuli stand opposite each other in the etheric body. It is essential that we understand this activity of our etheric body, which lies before the ego, in such a way that it is distinguished from the activity of the ego in the etheric body. When our ego is active as the intellectual soul or emotional soul, at the present stage of human development it seeks, so to speak, a truth that is as faithful a reflection of external things as possible. Anything that does not correspond exactly to external things is not called true. The spiritual activities that lie before the activity of our ego did not work in this way; they worked more symbolically, more pictorially, as dreams do, for example. Dreams work, for example, in such a way that someone dreams that a shot is fired, and when they wake up, they see that the chair next to their bed has fallen over. What is an external event and external impression — the fallen chair — is transformed in the dream into a symbol, the fired shot. Thus, the spiritual beings before the ego worked symbolically, just as we work when we work our way up to a higher spiritual activity through initiation or consecration, where we again try — but now with full consciousness — to work our way from the mere abstract outer world into symbolism, into pictoriality.

Then these spiritual beings worked on the human physical body, making human beings what can be called the counterpart of external events, external facts, and imitation. Imitation is something we find, for example, in children, when the other soul members are still underdeveloped. Imitation is something that belongs to the subconscious nature of human beings. Therefore, we should base early education on imitation, because in human beings, before the ego begins to create order in their inner activities, the urge to imitate is present as a natural instinct.

What has now been discussed: the imitative impulse in the physical body in relation to external activities, symbolization in the etheric body in relation to external stimuli, and what we might call the correspondence of desire and enjoyment in the astral body – we imagine all this to have been worked out with the help of the tool of air and worked into us in such a way that a plastic, artistic impression of it has arisen in our larynx and in our entire vocal apparatus. Then we will be able to say to ourselves: these beings before the ego worked on human beings in such a way that they formed and structured them through the air in such a way that the air in human beings could be expressed in these three directions.

For if we consider the faculty of speech in the true sense of the word, we must ask: Is it sound that we produce? — No, it is not sound. What we do is set in motion and shape from our ego that which is formed and structured within us through the air. Just as we set the eye in motion to take in what appears externally as light, while the eye itself is there to receive this light, so we see how, within ourselves, those organs that have been formed from the spirit of the air are set in motion from the ego. We set the organs in motion through the ego; we intervene in the organs that correspond to the spirit of the air, and we must wait until the spirit of the air, from which the organs are formed, echoes back to us — as an echo of our airiness — the sound. We do not produce the sound, just as the individual parts of a pipe do not produce the sound. We produce from ourselves that which our I can develop as activity through the use of those organs that are formed from the spirit of the air. Then we must leave it to the spirit of the air to set the air in motion again through that activity by which the organs were produced, so that the word sounds.

Thus we see how human speech must indeed be based on this threefold correspondence that we have mentioned. But what should correspond? On what should imitation in the physical body be based? Imitation in the physical body must be based on the fact that we imitate in the movements of our vocal organs what we perceive as external activities, as external things, what makes an impression on us, that we produce everything we initially hear as echoing sound by imitating, through the principle of the physical body, what makes an external impression on us, just as a painter imitates a scene that consists of elements other than color and canvas, light and dark. Just as the painter imitates with light and dark, we imitate what comes to us externally by setting our organs in motion, those organs that have been formed from the element of air. Therefore, what we produce in sound is a true imitation of the essence of things, and our consonants and vowels are nothing more than images and imitations of what makes an impression on us from outside.

What we then have in the etheric body is pictorial work. What we might call symbolism is worked into the etheric body. We must therefore understand that what we call the first elements of our language were initially created through imitation, but that this was then further developed by breaking away, as it were, from external impressions and then being further processed. In symbolism, as in dreams, the etheric body processes that which no longer resembles external impressions, and therein lies the continuing effect of sound. First, the etheric body processes that which is mere imitation, then that which is mere imitation is independently transformed in the etheric body, so that it becomes independent. Thus, what we have processed internally is only symbolic, corresponding to external impressions in a figurative sense. We are no longer mere imitators.

And finally, there is a third factor. Desire, emotion, everything that lives inwardly, is expressed in the astral body, and this in turn has the effect of further transforming the sound. That is, the inner experiences radiate, as it were, from within into the sound. Pain and joy, pleasure and suffering, desire, longing, all of this radiates into the sound, and through this the subjective element enters into the sound. What is mere imitation, what has been further developed as a linguistic symbol in the sound image or word image that has become independent, is now further transformed by being permeated by what the human being experiences inwardly as pain and joy, pleasure and suffering, horror and fear, and so on. It must always be an external counterpart that wrests itself from the soul in sound. But when the soul expresses what it experiences inwardly, allowing it to resonate in sound, so to speak, it must first seek out the external experience. Therefore, we must say: the third element, where pleasure and suffering, pain and joy, horror, and so on are expressed inwardly, soulfully, in sound, must first seek out what corresponds to it. In imitation, the external impression is imitated; the inner sound image or that which has arisen as a symbol is a further development. But that which the human being would only allow to sound from inner joy, pain, and so on, would only be a radiation to which nothing could correspond. What the correspondence between external being and inner experience is here, that is, what happens here, we can observe continuously in our children when they learn to speak. There we can see how the child begins to translate something it feels into sound. When the child first cries out “Ma” and “Pa,” this is nothing more than an inner pouring of emotion into sound. It is only the expression of something inner. But when this child expresses itself in this way, the mother comes over, for example, and the child then notices that what is expressed inwardly as joy, by pouring itself into the sound “Ma,” corresponds to an external event. Of course, the child does not ask how it happens that in this case it corresponds to the mother's rushing over. The inner experience of joy or pain is joined by an external impression, and what radiates from within is connected with the external impression. This is a third way in which language works. We can therefore say that language arose from the outside to the inside through imitation, just as it arose through what can be called the joining of external reality to what our inner self expresses. For what led to the formation of the words mama and papa from an inner utterance — Ma, Pa — because this utterance felt satisfied when mother or father hurried to respond, happens in countless cases. Wherever human beings see that something follows an inner utterance, they connect what is the expression of the inner being with something external.

All this happens without the involvement of the ego. Only later does the ego take over this activity. In this way, we see what lies before the ego working on the configuration that underlies human linguistic expression. And because the ego enters after the foundation for language has already been laid, language is structured in accordance with the nature of the ego. As a result, the expressions that correspond to the sentient body are permeated by the sentient soul; the images and symbols that correspond to the etheric body are permeated by the intellectual soul. Human beings pour into sound what they experience in the intellectual soul, and they also pour into it what they experience in the consciousness soul, which was initially mere imitation. In this way, those areas of our language have gradually emerged which are representations of the inner experiences of the soul.

In order to understand the nature of language, we must be clear that something lives within us, so to speak, that was active before the ego and before all activity of the ego, and that it is into this that the ego has poured what it can develop. But then we must not claim that language corresponds exactly to what comes from the ego, and that our spirit, the most intimate part of our individual being, corresponds exactly to language. Instead, we must realize that we can never see the direct expression of the ego in language. Symbolically, for example, the spirit of language works in the etheric body, imitating in the physical body, all this together with what the spirit of language works out of the sentient soul by pressing the inner experiences out of it, so that we have in the sound a radiance of inner life. All this taken together should justify us when we say: language is not developed in the manner of the conscious self in today's sense, but if we want to compare the development of language with anything, we can only compare it with artistic work. Just as we cannot demand that the artist's imitation correspond to reality, so we cannot demand that language reproduce what it is supposed to represent. In language we have something that only reproduces what is outside, just as the picture, just as the artist in general, reproduces what is outside. And we can say that before man was a self-conscious spirit in today's sense, there was an artist at work within him who acted as a spirit of language. We have placed our ego in a place where an artist previously carried out his activity. This is, of course, again expressed in pictorial terms, but it reflects the truth in this area. We look into a subconscious activity and feel that we have something there that has made us, as speaking human beings, into a work of art. And we must therefore understand language by analogy with a work of art. In doing so, we must not forget that we can only understand any work of art in the way that the means of the art in question allow. Therefore, language will also have to impose certain restrictions on us. If we took this into account, it would be impossible from the outset for a work such as Fritz Mauthner's “Critique of Language” to come into being. This critique of language is based on completely false assumptions, namely that if we overlook human languages, they cannot in any way give us an accurate picture of objective reality. But should they give us this picture? Is there any possibility that they can? There is just as little possibility that language can reproduce reality as there is that a picture can represent external reality on canvas with colors and light and dark. What underlies human activity as the spirit of language must be understood with artistic sensibility.

All this could only be presented in outline form. But when we know that an artist is at work in humanity who shapes language, then we will understand—however different the individual languages may seem—that even in the individual languages of humanity, artistic sense has worked in the most diverse ways. Then we will understand how this spirit of language — let us now call this entity working through the air the spirit of language — when it manifested itself at a relatively low level in human beings, worked like the atomistic spirit that wants to compose everything from individual parts. Then we have the possibility that a language is structured in such a way that the whole sentence is composed of individual sound images.

If, for example, we have the sounds sch: and king in Chinese, we have two atoms of language formation. One syllable, schi, means song; the other would mean book. If we put the two sound images together: schi-king, then we would have done so in the same way as when we put together song-book in German, then this atomization would result in something that — taken as a whole — becomes song-book. That would be a small example of how the Chinese language forms its concepts and ideas.

If we process what we have considered today in our souls, we can now also understand how a language as wonderfully formed as Semitic, for example, is to be viewed in its spirit. In the Semitic language, we have certain sound images as a basis, which actually consist only of consonants. And now man inserts vowels into these sound images. So, to explain this with just one example, if we take the consonants \(g\), \(t\), \(l\), and insert an \(a\) and then another \(a\), then, while the word formed solely from consonants is merely an imitation of an external sound impression, the insertion of vowels would have created: qatal = to kill.

So here we have a remarkable interpenetration, in that killing has been created as a sound image by simply imitating the external process through the organs of speech; this is initially the original sound image. Then what the soul has to develop further, and what can only be experienced internally, is developed further by adding something from within. The sound image is further developed so that killing can be traced back to a subject. In this way, the entire Semitic language is basically composed, and it expresses what we have listed as the interaction of the various elements of language formation in the entire structure of language. In the symbolism that is particularly effective in the Semitic language — that is, what we have found to be effective in the etheric body as the spirit of language — we see the whole peculiarity of the Semitic language, which further develops all the imitated individual sound images and transforms them into symbols by the insertion of vowels.

Therefore, all words in the Semitic language are basically formed in such a way that they refer like symbols to what surrounds us in the outer world. In contrast, everything that occurs in the Indo-European languages is more inspired by what we have called the inner expression of the astral body, the inner being. The astral body is already something connected with consciousness. When one opposes the outer world, one distinguishes oneself from the outer world. When one opposes the outer world only from the point of view of the etheric body, one merges with it, is one with it. Only when things are reflected in consciousness does one distinguish oneself from things. This working of the astral body with all its inner experiences is wonderfully expressed in the Indo-European languages, in contrast to the Semitic languages, by the fact that they have the verb “to be,” the statement of what is present without our intervention. This is possible because one distinguishes oneself with one's consciousness from what makes an external impression. Therefore, if one wanted to express in Semitic, for example, that God is good, one would not be able to do so directly, because one cannot reproduce the word “st,” which expresses being, because it already comes from the opposition between the astral body and the outside world. The etheric body simply presents things. Therefore, in the Semitic language, one would have to say: God, the Good. — The juxtaposition of subject and object is not characterized. These languages, which differ from the outer world and which essentially involve the pouring out of a tapestry of perceptions about the outer world, are primarily the Indo-European languages. These languages have an effect on people in that they support inner life, that is, everything that can be called the predisposition to develop a strong individuality, a strong ego. This is already expressed in the language.

Everything I have been able to give you may be accepted by some as merely unsatisfactory hints, for the simple reason that it would take a fortnight to present everything in this field in more detail. However, those who have heard these lectures here more often and have penetrated the spirit of the matter will see that such a suggestion as has been given today is not unjustified. It is only intended to show how a spiritual-scientific view of language can be stimulated, which basically leads to the conclusion that language cannot be understood in any other way than by trying to comprehend it with an artistic sense that one must have made one's own. Therefore, all scholarship will fail if it does not seek to recreate what the language artist has done in human beings before the ego could begin to function within us. Artistic sense alone can grasp the secrets of language, just as artistic sense alone can recreate anything. Learned abstractions can never make a work of art comprehensible. Only those ideas shine into works of art which, as ideas, are capable of fruitfully recreating what the artist has expressed by other means, with color, sound, and so on. Artistic sense alone understands the artist, and linguistic artists alone understand the creative spirit in the emergence of language. That is one thing that spiritual science has to achieve in relation to language.

The other is something that has practical significance. If we understand how language arose from an inner, pre-human artist, we will also be able to rise to the task of letting this artistic sense come into play when we want to say something or express something through language that deserves to be taken seriously. However, in our present age, when people are not particularly advanced in their living feeling for language, there is little sense in this. Today, everyone believes that if they can speak at all, they are allowed to express everything. But we must be clear that we must once again create a direct connection in our souls between what we want to express through language and how we express it. We must reawaken the linguistic artist within us in all areas. Today, people are satisfied when what they want to say is expressed in any form whatsoever. And how many people have any idea of what is absolutely necessary in the field of spiritual science, that a linguistic artistic sense is necessary for any kind of presentation! Try to examine real representations of spiritual scientific material. You will find that those who have written such things as true, genuine spiritual scientists have also worked hard to artistically craft each sentence, and that verbs are not placed at the end or beginning in any arbitrary way. You will find that each such sentence is a birth, because it is to be experienced inwardly, spiritually, not merely as a thought, but as an immediate form. And if you follow the context of what is being presented, you will see that in three consecutive sentences, the middle one is not merely attached to the first and the third to the previous one, but you will find that the person that represents spiritual science has not only the first sentence but also the third sentence already complete in its structure before it forms the middle one, because the effect of the middle sentence should depend on what remains as the effect of the first sentence and can in turn pass over into the next sentence.

In spiritual science, it is impossible to create without an artistic sense of language. Anything else is wrong. It is a matter of freeing ourselves from slavish attachment to words. But we cannot do this if we think that any word can express the thought we have, because then we are already mistaken in our use of language. From words that are entirely shaped by the sensory world, we can never gain what should be an expression of supersensible facts. Anyone who can ask: How can one express the etheric body or the astral body in reality in a concrete way through a word? — has not yet understood anything about it. Only those who proceed in such a way that they say to themselves: I will learn what the etheric body is when I first hear about it from one side and am aware that these are artistically formed reflections; and then I will have the same thing presented to me from three other sides. — Then we have presented the same thing from four different sides, so that in the representations we give through language, by going around the thing, as it were, we present artistic reflections of the thing. If one is not aware of this, one will get nothing but abstractions and a rigid reproduction of what one already knows. Therefore, development in spiritual science will always be connected with what we can call the further development of the inner sense and the inner creative power of our language.

In this sense, spiritual science will have a fertilizing effect on today's style of language, will have a transformative effect on our current appalling style of language, which has no idea what linguistic artistry is. Otherwise, so many people who can barely speak and write would not start writing. Today, people have long since lost sight of the fact that writing prose, for example, is something much higher than writing verse; only the prose that is written today is, of course, a much lower form of prose. But spiritual science is there to provide inspiration in those areas that are connected with the deepest areas of humanity. For spiritual science will work in these areas in such a way that it fulfills what the greatest personalities will have dreamed of. Spiritual science will be able to conquer the supersensible worlds through thought, will become capable of casting thought into sound in such a way that our language can once again become a means of communicating what the soul beholds in the supersensible. Then spiritual science will be what will bring about the realization, in a wide circle, of what the saying expresses as the most important area of the human inner life:

Immeasurably deep is the thought,
And its winged tool is the word!