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Toward Imagination
GA 169

27 June 1916, Berlin

4. The Human Organism Through the Incarnations

I will begin today by adding a few things to what we have said over the years about spiritual science. One of the most elementary facts we know is that human beings as they have developed through what we have called Saturn, Sun, Moon, and Earth phases of evolution are composed of four principal parts, namely physical body, etheric body, astral body, and I. We have often emphasized that merely naming the four parts of human beings and listing them is saying and doing very little. What is important is that we connect increasingly definite and concrete ideas and concepts with what arises in our soul when we speak of these four parts of the human being.

Let us first look at the physical body. We think we know it really well, or at least the physical sciences must know this body very well since they study it so much. Well, we know our physical body has to be a highly complicated creation for the simple reason that its first rudimentary form can be found as far back as the Saturn phase of evolution. That early physical form was then transformed during the Sun phase of evolution and changed further during the Moon phase of evolution, and by now it has undergone long ages of earth evolution, which have also left their imprint on our physical body. Thus, our physical body has been shaped in the course of four very long periods of time. We have to assume then a fourfold structure for this physical body.

When we ask what has come into our physical body during Earth evolution, we will only get a false idea if we rely on what ordinary life and conventional science tell us. For during earth evolution our physical body has only been remodeled, transformed, and metamorphosed. Much of it already existed, not merely in rudimentary form, but in a process of development, of unfolding, during the old Moon phase of evolution. We cannot really see much of what has been added during earth evolution if we take “see” in the true sense of the word. Actually, it is only our posture that has been changed during earth evolution; we have become upright beings, walking around with our spine perpendicular to the earth's surface. Our posture and everything connected with it has changed. Our upright physiognomy on the surface of the earth has been imprinted upon us during our evolution on earth.

When we think of a centaur, a very well-known mythological figure, we can say, based on spiritual science, that this figure of human being and horse, or generally of a human being and any animal form, is actually an imaginative representation of our physical body as it would be if we envisioned our present upright position combined with what human beings had been during the Moon phase of evolution before they became upright. Such figures or imaginations, which are preserved in mythology, conceal infinitely profound wisdom.

I wanted to mention this only as an example of the profound wisdom in such imaginations. Let us recapitulate briefly: If we really want to do justice to our physical body, we have to think of it as much more complicated than any of the physical sciences nowadays finds it convenient to do. We must realize that really only the position of the individual organs and the posture of our whole organism have been impressed upon us in the long course of earth evolution. Essentially, human development reaches very far back into the past to a time long before the earth existed.

Naturally, we must think in similar terms of the development of our higher, spiritual elements, namely, the etheric body, the astral body, and the I. Now we have to contemplate the interrelations, the interconnections, between these parts. At first glance, the physical body seems to be built out of physical substances, and as we grow, we see it constantly becoming bigger, adding on matter or inserting matter in the spaces between its limbs and its cells. Later, when we become fat—if we do—we see how more substance or matter is added on to our physical body. When we now study the etheric body in the same way, we find something similar going on. Only in this case it is not substances but movements that are added. These movements get more complicated in the course of life. In the etheric body of a newborn child we find comparatively simple and primitive movements. But gradually they become more complicated. Clearly, there is a process of multiplying, of growth an development, at work in both the physical and the etheric bodies.

Things are different in the astral body and I. In our life in the physical world, we are at first active only in our I, for it alone possesses full consciousness. When you look at a colored surface, your I is active; when you think, your I is active; when you feel, your I is active. In all your activities, even when you walk or move your hands, the I is active. Everything you do while you are awake on the physical plane is ego activity. The ego is present in all activity.

How does ego activity express itself in relation to our other parts? How do all the things we do between waking up and falling asleep, that is, in full consciousness, manifest themselves? They manifest not in building up and growth, but in breaking down, in a depletion of the substances of the physical body and of the movements and forces of the etheric body.

For example, when you look at something red, or at anything colored, you are in a process of breakdown or depletion through the mere fact that you received an impression of the colored object. What takes place in your physical body, albeit in a very subtle sense, is a kind of killing or destruction of living substance, of living matter. To use a rather crude example, suppose you had a crystal that could still be changed and undergo transformations and imagine you exposed it to some kind of influence, for instance, the influence of light, so that the crystal would change and turn cloudy. In the same way something in your physical body becomes cloudy, and matter is being destroyed in your constitution, every time light reaches your eyes.

From the moment of waking up to the moment of falling asleep, we are destroying, albeit only in a very subtle way, our physical substance with our ego activity. Therefore, we must compensate for this by sleeping. During sleep, physical matter is restored for our use. There is a perpetual building up and breaking down going on in us. Activity when we sleep means building up of physical matter, especially its constitution; activity when we are awake, that is, ego activity, means a breaking down. Thus you have a continual, cyclical alternation: building up and breaking down, building up and breaking down. We are actually constantly being depleted, being consumed, by the activity of our I, and when we sleep, we have to regenerate ourselves.

That is why we often notice that something ascends, as it were, from our physical organism when we wake up. These are the regenerating forces, the restoring forces. When we have something pathological or diseased in our organism, even if only very slightly so, that also ascends. As long as our organism is healthy, it regenerates itself in a healthy way by the time we wake up. However, if it is sick, it works to expel the sickness upward. That is why many people and even children are in a bad mood and not cheerful when they wake up. The aftereffect of what is coming up out of the organism is still there. What spiritual science tells us about the human being and human life agrees with the phenomena of life in a wonderful way. It is only about an hour and a half after waking up that we are completely free of the forces of sickness that can rise up. This is how our I and physical body interact. This interaction plays itself out in the rhythm of sleeping and waking: building up, breaking down, building up, breaking down.

There is still another relationship that is very important although we don't notice it much in our everyday life. Our I and physical body interact in building up and depletion, and a similar relationship exists between our astral body and etheric body. The only difference is that the building up, insofar as it comes from the astral body, is completed earlier in life, and the breaking down thus begins earlier. What our astral body breaks down in our etheric body is connected essentially with the fact that we become weaker in the course of life and die when we have become totally decrepit. The relationship between our astral body and etheric body is fundamentally connected with our death. It is only because our astral body gradually consumes the forces of our etheric body; which in turn depletes, consumes, our physical body, that we can die. In a sense, then, we can observe a building up and breaking down in the interaction between our etheric and our astral body in the course of life—although this is not as rapid a succession as the alternation between sleeping and waking, it nevertheless has a certain rhythm.

We know that exerting ourselves with too much ego activity harms us. This is easy to understand because ego activity is after all a breaking-down process. If there is too much breaking down, we clearly and visibly weaken our organism. We can notice this visible weakening at first glance. But there can also be a weakening of our etheric body through the astral body since the latter can, so to speak, deplete our etheric body excessively. The most common symptom of this kind occurs when we live in a way that demands too much of our astral body, the vehicle of our passions and emotions. As you know, such a life-style can lead to permanent weakening. This impairment results from the astral body depleting the etheric body.

However, things may happen quite differently. How we gradually build up our astral body in the course of our life—beginning at birth or, let's say, at conception—is connected with our karma. Whether we have a tendency to develop strong emotions and passions in our astral body is of course connected with our karma. These passions, however, can in a way be humanly significant and meaningful. For example, let's take a quality that plays a role throughout human life and that is nevertheless a passion, albeit the noblest passion, the one that in its noblest form can develop into freedom from selfishness: love. Love is a passion, but it can become entirely free of egoism. It is the only passion that can become free of egoism. It is located in the astral body; the astral body is its vehicle.

Let us assume an artist with a true feeling for reality had been given the task to create a human form suffused and permeated through and through with the passion of love, the noble passion of love. Clearly, this artist could not be a naturalist, for naturalists have no feeling for realities but see only abstract, “naturalist” matter, so-called actuality. Every time artists had the task to create a Venus or an Aphrodite, they had to feel that the figure had to be completely suffused by this passion of love. Love has to be abundant; it has to pour itself out. What is the only thing that could happen in such a case? Obviously, not every ordinary female figure can represent Aphrodite or Venus. Consequently, then, the astral body of Aphrodite or Venus cannot be like any other female astral body, for otherwise every woman, every girl; would be an Aphrodite or a Venus—and that is not the case, is it? Thus, it is a matter of a special development of the astral body. The artist does not have to know anything about spiritual science, but he must feel as he creates a Venus that her astral body must be more developed, more strongly developed than that of a non-Aphrodite, a non-Venus.

However, as we have said, the astral body has a depleting, consuming nature. That has to be expressed in the work of art. How will the artist who really feels this, who really has a sense for the depleting astral body, set about creating a Venus? He will have to make it visible that there is something about the physical body that gradually consumes it. And here the spiritual scientist is in a different situation than a modern physician, for example.

Suppose an artist had created a Venus. As he was creating her, he felt correctly that she had a more strongly consuming and depleting astral body than any other woman. We will see this in the slender neck and the shape of the chest. We will also see in other parts of the body that her astral body basically has a depleting nature. If the artist gives the matter physical expression, perhaps we will see in her overall shape that she will not live to a very old age. When an artist achieves such a creation, spiritual scientists will say he has a sense for the underlying reality. From this standpoint, we will say that artists, while they are creating, often feel a true spiritual reality.

However, what will a physician say, especially one who is not a spiritual scientist, when he sees such a figure created by an artist? He will say, “This is a representation of a person suffering from consumption.” For indeed people who suffer from consumption also have a more strongly consuming and depleting astral body—due to their karma in an earlier incarnation—than do other people. Now, Botticelli has painted a most beautiful and wonderful Venus, which most of you will know.1Sandro Botticelli, 1445–1510, Italian painter. In this picture of Venus standing on a shell, we see a physical body painted in such a way that we cannot help thinking it is based on a depleting astral body. That is why art historians disagree about this painting. Some of them admire the figure of this Venus precisely for its deviation from the so-called normal human form; they admire her slender neck and the unusual shape of her upper chest, and so forth. Others say these features are the result of Botticelli having painted a model who suffered from consumption.

Well, it is certainly possible to explain everything in a materialistic way. Probably Botticelli really did paint a consumptive model, namely, Simonetta, who died at the age of twenty-three. But that is not the point. What is important is that he knew he wanted precisely this woman to sit for his Venus, a woman who made it possible for him to paint a person whose physical body was being depleted by the astral body more quickly than is usually the case. I will pass around this reproduction of the painting although it is not good, but I don't have a better one at the moment. In this picture, you will see it is really clearly noticeable that we are dealing here with an astral body of a different constitution, namely, with an astral body depleting the physical body by means of the etheric body. You see, spiritual science can guide us and show us the way to an understanding of such things.

You will find that observation not sharpened by spiritual science is never enough to elucidate life. However, all things are illuminated when we approach them with the help of spiritual science, in everyday life as well as in art. We need to become patient and realize the human being is far more complicated than conventional science cares to acknowledge. The human being is a complicated creature, and one of the most irresponsible pronouncements frequently uttered in connection with world views is that the best explanation is always the one that is simplest. Well, it is not the simplest explanation that is the best; the best explanation is the one that correctly explains the matter. That's what we have to realize.

Now let me give you another example to show that the conventional sciences cannot get very far without using the approach of spiritual science. Remember the public lecture I gave in the Architektenhaus this winter where I said we have to distinguish first of all between two parts of our physical body: our head and the rest of our body. When you look at the human skeleton, you'll see the head standing out clearly, distinct from the rest of the body. In that lecture I said that, roughly speaking, everything “hanging” from the head basically developed on earth. The condition of the human being at the end of the Moon phase of evolution, at the transition to the earth is retained only in the shape of the head. The head is a considerably older organ than the rest of our organism. The head is our oldest, most venerable part. The earth added all the rest to the head—that is, not quite all, but roughly speaking all the rest; we have to approximate these things.

When we consider that the I continues from incarnation to incarnation, we have to differentiate between the forces underlying the head and those underlying the rest of the organism. Remember, as I said, the form and shape of our head are essentially the result of our previous incarnation. How we conducted our life, how we acted in our previous incarnation, has left its mark on our organism and manifests in the following incarnation in our physiognomy, particularly in the shape of our skull.

As you may remember, I once said that the existence of reincarnation, repeated earth lives, is plainly visible in your skull, for the shape of your skull is determined by what kind of person you were in your previous incarnation. The formation of the rest of our physiognomy, our posture, whether we are fidgety or not and whether we gesture much or little—all this has a bearing on the next incarnation, when it is expressed in the shape of our face and particularly in that of the skull.

You can see how disputes about quite important things can arise. There are people who, especially according to their own opinion, are very learned in craniology. They feel a person's skull with their hands and read his or her character from it. What they say may be more or less true and can sometimes even be quite correct, but it can never be the whole truth or be exhaustive, because it is a fact that every one of us has indeed a head of his or her own. No skull is exactly like any other, for our skull is the result of our previous incarnation. The rest of our organism prepares the skull we will have in the next incarnation. Craniologists and phrenologists quarrel among themselves because they insist on generalizing where they ought to individualize. Well, every one has a head of his or her own!

It is only through intuition that we can find anything about a person's deeper nature revealed in the structure of the skull. Not only phrenologists, but science as a whole does not know what to make of the shape of the human skull. I would like to point out here that this is another area where the conventional natural sciences need to be supplemented by spiritual science.

In 1887, the famous anatomist Karl Langer gave a lecture on three truly important human heads, namely, the skulls of Schubert, Haydn, and Beethoven.2Karl Langer, 1819–1887, German anatomist.

Franz Peter Schubert, 1797–1828, Austrian composer. Famous for his song cycles.

Franz Joseph Haydn, 1732–1809, Austrian composer. Regarded as first great master of the symphony and the quartet.

Ludwig van Beethoven, 1770–1827, German composer. Studied with Haydn.
Karl Langer examined the anatomy of these three skulls. He emphasized that in none of them had he been able to find any indication of special musical talents, least of all in the skull of Beethoven. He underscored that from the standpoint of anatomy and physiology, Beethoven's skull was so ugly one would have expected anything else but not that the soul of Beethoven could have been active in it. Now Karl Langer is an anatomist who observed carefully in this particular case and proceeded on the basis of realities, not fantastic theories. He had to admit there is nothing to be found in these skulls that would indicate musical talents.

We know that Haydn, Schubert, and Beethoven were indeed musicians in the incarnation where the anatomist found these skulls. However, they may not have been musicians in their preceding incarnation. And we can well understand that particularly in the case of Beethoven everything that was purified in the time between death and rebirth could have come from a strong, powerful fighter. What is retained from the preceding incarnation manifests in the shape of the skull.

Langer was particularly struck by the fact that all three men had been musicians, and yet their skulls had nothing in common. There were no characteristics common to all three men precisely because they probably had completely different experiences in their previous incarnations and became musicians only in the incarnation where they had the skulls Langer examined. Their musical disposition expressed itself in their soul, while the shape of their skull was an expression of their experiences during the previous incarnation.

Eventually, arguments about these three skulls resulted. Another anatomist tried to prove Langer wrong. But the argument wasn't leading anywhere; after all, on what does a physical anatomist depend to study such matters? Of course, he will not want to hear of a previous incarnation and will therefore seize upon heredity. And Schaaffhausen, the anatomist who wanted to refute Karl Langer, observed that the shape of our skull is inherited.3Hermann Schaaffhausen, 1816–1893, German anthropologist. In connection with such pronouncements, people never study what really happens in the hereditary transmission of the shape of the skull. If they did and did not proceed with the usual logic people so love to use in this area, they would soon see how unfounded it is to talk of heredity in this connection. In reality, we create the form of our skull based on the result of our previous incarnation. Granted, other elements can overlap or clash with what has come about in accordance with the preceding incarnation. We grow up in a certain environment, and especially if our feelings, our heart and soul, are attached to personalities in a particular environment, a good deal will still be impressed into the finer organization of our body. However, in essence, the skull is shaped according to the preceding incarnation.

You know, of course, how brilliantly people are trying to apply the so-called theory of genetics. There is now an erudite book, diligently researched—I really don't want to say anything against erudition in such a case; on the whole, the author really worked like a beaver to present his points. This book traces Goethe's ancestors as far back as possible. And what is the purpose of all this busy work? The objective is to show that traits that have appeared in several of a person's ancestors also emerge when the line of ancestors culminates in a genius. People think this is highly logical.

However, as I have often said, it proves no more than saying if a man falls into water and is pulled out again, he will be wet.

Obviously, anyone coming from a certain line of ancestors still bears traits of this ancestry, which, after all, he or she has sought out. In order to prove that the theory of genetics really applies the way natural science assumes, one would have to start with certain traits and then show they are present in the following generations. Thus, we would have to start with the genius and then show that his or her extraordinary capacities were passed on to the offspring. But, of course, people will do nothing of the kind. After all, they could not prove that Goethe's genius was transmitted to his son or to his grandchildren, for we know all about them, don't we! Among the descendants of other people of genius this can also generally not be proved. When hereditary transmission could be proved, it was due to something quite different from physical heredity, namely to an inclination of the soul to incarnate in a particular family and to look for certain traits. Well, we have often talked about this.

You see, this is another example showing that conventional science must be complemented by spiritual science. What conventional science and everyday life have to offer us must at every turn be illuminated by the insights of spiritual science. Nowadays people have no idea how wonderfully the mysteries of cosmic evolution work on the soul when they are seen in the light of spiritual science.

I have often spoken of the fourth post-Atlantean or Greco-Latin epoch, and of our present epoch, the fifth one, and indicated how we differ from the people of the fourth post- Atlantean epoch. People of our epoch look at the art of Greek antiquity and admire the artists' keen perception, particularly in the sculptures, revealing things people in our time cannot easily perceive anymore. The crass, materialist explanation for this difference is that the ancient Greeks simply had a keener sense of sight. Besides, they could observe the human body in their games, which some people have half a mind to reinstate in this day and age. Well, those who nowadays imitate ancient Greek games certainly won't turn into Greeks, you can take my word for it; but people just love to imitate mere outer appearances.

As I have emphasized before, the ancient Greeks represented what they saw differently than we do now. This was because the Greeks still had something within them. We know the Greeks had developed their intellectual or mind soul. Our I is directed to the outside while our intellectual or mind soul is oriented to the inside and perceives our inner balance and the inner mobility of our body. The ancient Greeks lived more within themselves than we do. Consequently, the artists in ancient Greece did not work with their models as modern artists do. Instead, when the artist wanted to represent an arm, he felt within himself the shape and form of the muscle. And when he wanted to represent a movement, he felt what it is like to perform the movement himself. Yes, indeed, the ancient Greeks could do more than we because they were more within themselves.

As you know, the sentient soul developed during the Egypto-Chaldean epoch, and the intellectual or mind soul in the Greco-Latin epoch. Yet, the intellectual soul is still focused on what is inside us. It is only the I that emerges from our inner life and perceives the outer world. When the ancient Greeks watched a bird and imitated its flight with their own arms, they could feel in their arm movements how they had to sculpt the wings. In contrast, we need a model; we need to look at a real bird, and then we reproduce it in a painting or a sculpture.

It is with good reason that modern humanity has lost this faculty of inner experiencing. But we have to know and acknowledge the inner understanding of sculpture the ancient Greeks still had and we no longer have. We have to understand that when a Greek artist sculpted a person in movement, he knew out of inner knowledge, and not from looking at a model, how he had to position the legs, the toes, and the fingers.

Strictly speaking, people nowadays are unable to draw a bird in flight. In modern pictures, birds hover; they do not fly, and that is perfectly all right, but we have to understand it. We must not expect of our contemporaries what was expected of the ancient Greeks. This inner life of feeling had to be subdued so human beings could direct their I to the outside. We must not think of human evolution the way modern, materialistic Darwinists do and begin with imperfect human beings that develop into more perfect ones. Instead, we must see a parallel spiritual development that descends from the perfect state in the spiritual world down to human beings adapting themselves more and more to their physical organism. There are two streams of evolution, not just one. Thus, we can say our way of seeing things allows us to take in something that could not be perceived in earlier times. This earlier way of looking at things should not be carried over into later times, but, of course, it is occasionally carried over.

At this point, I would like to draw your attention to snapshots of people walking on the street you can find in any illustrated magazine. Snapshots reproduce the immediate outer reality; they show the person as he or she is—most of the time, that isn't very pretty. A snapshot of a bird will look very different from a painting. Now the strange thing is, when you look at a Japanese drawing of birds, you'll see it resembles a snapshot. That is a fact. There is a certain resemblance between Japanese drawings of birds in flight and a snapshot of birds. This resemblance applies even to Japanese drawings of people, because Japanese artists, more so than others, paint what a snapshot reveals—of course, we have to limit our observation to the representation of people walking.

This is because the Japanese have retained their way of seeing things from the fourth post-Atlantean epoch into the present. We, however, can no longer see things the way the Japanese do. Modern Japanese still see more correctly in the Greek sense—albeit not with the ancient Greeks' sense for beauty—than we Europeans do, for we have advanced to the fifth post-Atlantean cultural epoch. We can comprehend these things only when we consider them from the point of view of spiritual science. And when you compare Asian and European painting and sculpture, you will find the difference between the fourth post-Atlantean epoch, which has been preserved there, and our fifth post-Atlantean epoch.

You can see everywhere the necessity to bring spiritual science into things. However, in our culture today we are very far from understanding this need to bring spiritual science into outer knowledge. For the most part this is not because it is especially difficult to attain a spiritual scientific outlook; rather it is simply due to the fact that people resist it. What is described in my book Knowledge of the Higher Worlds and Its Attainment is relatively easy to understand.4Rudolf Steiner, Knowledge of the Higher Worlds and Its Attainment, 3rd ed., (Hudson, NY: Anthroposophic Press, 1986). People could quite easily learn this, but they resist it. Of course, I am not speaking about you, my dear friends, but our outer culture resists spiritual science. The main reason for this resistance is that our culture does not want to establish the basic prerequisites for the development of conscience in thinking, conscientiousness in thinking, or logical conscience. Here we come upon an actual sickness in the culture of our age, and spiritual scientists have to take it into account because it confronts them everywhere. This sickness is the lack of a logical conscience, of a conscience in thinking. You can make the most peculiar discoveries in this connection. We have already looked at examples of this, but let's look at one more example today.

There was a man—and he is still alive—who wanted to prove philosophically that ideals are nothing real, nothing vital. He simply wanted to make allowances for the modern view that will let ideals stand at a pinch but considers them as not really existing in the way physically perceptible things do. By the same token, this man was a philosopher and thus would have had very little to do if he did not let ideals stand. After all, the physical realm is already taken care of by the other sciences, and there must be something left for the philosopher to do.

Now, then, ideals have no intrinsic existence, but he still wants to let them stand. Thus, he says they are just fictions, we must accept them as necessary fictions, as necessary assumptions. And this man then developed this idea into a whole philosophy, the philosophy of the As if, we have already talked about it earlier.5Hans Vaihinger, 1852–1933, German philosopher. Developed his “As if” philosophy 1911. According to this philosophy we don't need to assume atoms exist, but we can look at the world as if atoms existed. We don't need to assume the soul exists, but we can look at the world as if it did. You see, it's a complete philosophy of the As if.

Now this man used an analogy to help his readers understand that we can hold on to ideals while at the same time denying them an intrinsic existence, and this analogy is typical of this philosopher's logical conscience. His analogy was of a child playing with a doll, which the child knows has no life of its own. In other words, why should we reject ideals when children do not reject dolls? Even though dolls are not alive, children treat them as though they were. Why shouldn't we do the same with ideals even though we know they have no intrinsic being?

Here we have the view that ideals have no real existence but can nevertheless be useful to us in life when we use them as little children use their dolls, which are not alive either and yet are treated like living beings. We are dealing here with a philosopher who compares ideals to dolls! Now, let us try to understand this analogy, this image. First, we have a little child playing with a doll, but this is based on the premise that the doll is at least a reproduction of a living being. The child would hardly play with the doll at all if it did not in some way resemble or represent a living being. This is the precondition. Clearly, then, we can hardly compare the doll to an ideal unless we also assume the ideal is after all a representation of something real and alive.

This philosopher's first nonsense is to use this analogy. The second lies in saying we should base our life on ideals as if they existed. And what will come of all this? Naturally about as much as usually comes of children playing with dolls—on which he bases his recommendation—in other words, only a mere imitation of life. We are not only dealing here with a foolish analogy but also with a second error, a second foolishness. The analogy does not hold water because the comparison to a doll does not work: dolls are at least representations of living beings; ideals, on the other hand, are not supposed to represent anything. But even if they did, they would only lead to an imitation of life, not life itself.

We are dealing here with double nonsense. Here is a philosopher who perpetrates not just one but two absurdities. We could find many more such double absurdities in the sciences as well as in modern life in general. They are particularly numerous in the so-called wisdom of the world, in philosophy. When such thinking exists, when thinking has gone so far off the track, it cannot discipline itself to develop only valid analogies or at least a feeling for valid analogies—indeed, then we have no foundation for a spiritual view at all. For a spiritual view can develop only if our thinking is sound.

Therefore I would like to ask you to pay attention to what I say about the concept of reality in my new book, Vom Menschenrätsel.6Rudolf Steiner, Vom Menschenrätsel (“The Riddle of Man”), vol. 20 in the Collected Works, (Domach, Switzerland: Rudolf Steiner Verlag, 1984). We must develop a concept of reality, and not just a concept of the logical. A crystal is a self-contained reality, complete in itself. When I examine the crystal for what it is, it tells me the truth about itself. But look at a tree trunk without its roots and branches, does it also tell us the truth about itself? No, certainly not; it is telling lies as it is lying there, for it cannot exist as a tree trunk by itself. It could never exist if it did not grow in connection with roots, branches, and leaves; all these belong to the tree trunk. I find the truth about it only if I picture the tree as a whole. With the trunk by itself I have a piece cut out of the world of the senses, but this fragment is not a reality.

If our thinking is to be true to reality, we must develop a sense for what has to be included in our concepts. Only when we have a feeling that a leaf is not a reality because it cannot be thought of apart from a plant—you see, a crystal and a leaf are very different—only when we develop this sense for reality, are we ready to ascend in the right way to spiritual realities. Many things can be logical, but whether they are true to reality is another matter.

It is very easy to make mistakes in regard to this sense for reality. When I look at a painting of a figure taken out of the whole context, then I am not looking at reality, for I have to see the whole picture. If someone now objected that this painting is the result of earlier paintings by the same and other painters, and we would therefore have to look at the whole history of art, that would again be nonsense. We have to develop a sense for reality that tells us there are self-contained realities. Otherwise the only thing that would be “real” would be the whole universe.

Now that I have more or less covered the topic of today's talk and am not subtracting anything from its essence, I would like to add the following—not to say anything derogatory or disparaging, but only to throw light on the way our whole movement should be taken. We can introduce spiritual science into modern culture only if there are many people with the good will to stand by this spiritual science with the right feeling and sensitivity. I do not like to say such things, but they have to be said. You see, I try in every way possible to show that there is in our time a tendency, an impulse, toward spiritual science. That is why I quoted from Hermann Bahr's two books Expressionismus and Himmelfahrt. Here we have a man who is over fifty years old and is now beginning, after having written many plays and novels, to develop a longing for spiritual science and also for Goethe, who is so closely connected with its impulses. I tried to show that at the age of fifty Hermann Bahr had the good will to finally begin—according to his own admission—to read Goethe's works and that he slowly began to find his way—“groping” as I put it—into spiritual science and so has reached the very first elementary stages of it.

Books such as Hermann Bahr's Expressionismus and Himmelfahrt are really extraordinarily revealing because they show us that spiritual science is also—pardon the trivial expression—a matter of time. We will advance in this area only if we take things really seriously, if we have the right kind of reverence for spiritual science, and know that spiritual science is a basic impulse people seek in the current stage of our cultural development. It will always be detrimental to our cause if things are taken only superficially. It will be harmful if what we are trying to do here, and—it may be said in all modesty—what we are trying to do thoroughly, is mistaken for charlatanism, foolishness, fantasy, or other things like that. Nothing is as damaging to our cause as being mistaken for some sort of fantastic nonsense.

Now we have been working together for a long time, and gradually a seriousness toward our cause has developed as well as the ability to distinguish between it and other things that resemble it to some extent. After all, even a mongrel dog has some resemblance to a lion: they both have four legs! Ultimately, everything resembles everything else! What has to be taken into consideration above all is the seriousness of our striving, the seriousness of our work. Now, let me put it this way: in the case I'm talking about, I certainly appreciate the underlying good will and am grateful for it; yet I must discuss the symptomatic features of this case.

In my last two lectures, I explained that Hermann Bahr in a sense presented a self-portrait in the character of his protagonist Franz, who went through various experiences in life, and then came to a kind of mysticism. In other words, this is a serious book that portrays a person's whole life. Well, someone who had heard all this sent me a book, the book Apostel Dodenscheidt by Margarethe Böhme. It arrived with a note saying Apostel Dodenscheidt, like Hermann Bahr's Franz, had gone through all kinds of developments and had finally found his way to accepting reincarnation and karma. Well, that book by Böhme is a roman à clef of the worst kind. You only need to remember certain events that happened here in and around Berlin at one time and names such as Josua Klein and others. In this novel there is a man named Gottfried Gross, and so on. There is nothing worse than for the things I meant here to be mentioned in one breath with the events behind that roman à clef, a novel that in terms of literature and art is a very poor and inferior one to boot.

Indeed, there is a tendency to name things in the same breath whenever there is any chance to connect and confuse them. Granted, it was no sin that this has happened in this particular case—after all, the book was sent to me. Nevertheless, this shows what kinds of associations between ideas are formed and what kinds of things people will mistake for what we are seeking here out of the wellsprings of life. I do not want to reprimand but only to discuss a symptomatic occurrence. The things discussed here are not meant as those people understand them who take the absurdities in the book Apostel Dodenscheidt seriously. It is precisely this connecting of our cause with one or another striving that does it the most damage, and it is important that this truth stirs our souls; for those who find any resemblance here to the Apostel Dodenscheidt do not really understand what we are saying here.

I do not intend to deliver a philippic here, but I want to point out again that I certainly recognize and appreciate the good will in this case. Nevertheless, I have to talk about symptomatic occurrences, for what came to light here is the same thing that comes up in the world outside again and again: what is discussed and represented here is not really taken with the necessary seriousness and insight.

Die Wechselwirkungen zwischen den Gliedern des menschlichen Organismus

Ich werde heute zunächst einiges zu sagen haben, das in verschiedener Weise eine Ergänzung sein kann zu manchem, das wir im Laufe der Zeit aus dem Gebiete unserer Geisteswissenschaft besprochen haben. Wenn wir uns erinnern an das Elementarste, was wir wissen — wir können uns daran immer wieder und wiederum erinnern -—, so denken wir uns den Menschen zusammengesetzt aus den vier Hauptgliedern, die wir zunächst als die Glieder des gegenwärtigen Menschen, so wie er sich durch Saturn-, Sonnen-, Mond- und Erdenentwickelung ergeben hat, betrachten: Physischer Leib, ätherischer Leib, astralischer Leib und Ich. Nun haben wir oftmals betont, daß mit der Aufzählung dieser vier Glieder der menschlichen Natur, mit der Namengebung, zunächst recht wenig getan ist und recht wenig gesagt ist; denn darauf kommt es an, daß wir immer bestimmtere und bestimmtere, konkretere und konkretere Begriffe und Ideen verbinden mit dem, was in unserer Seele auftaucht, wenn wir von diesen vier Gliedern der menschlichen Natur sprechen. Wir sprechen zunächst vom physischen Leib. Da haben wir das Gefühl, diesen physischen Leib, den müssen wir doch kennen, oder mindestens müsse diesen physischen Leib die äußere Wissenschaft kennen, denn sie beschäftigt sich ja so viel mit ihm. Nun wissen wir, daß dieser physische Menschenleib ein recht, recht kompliziertes Gebilde sein muß aus dem Grunde, weil er ja schon seine erste Veranlagung gefunden hat in so früher Zeit, als der alte Saturn seine Entwickelung entfaltet hat. Dann ist er verändert worden während der Sonnenzeit, ist weiter verändert worden während der Mondenzeit und ist ja jetzt auch schon eine lange, lange Zeit durch die Erdenentwickelung gegangen, die ihm wiederum ihr Gepräge aufgedrückt hat, so daß wir doch voraussetzen müssen: Dieser physische Menschenleib hat in vier langen, langen Zeitperioden sein Gepräge erhalten. Eine Viergliedrigkeit müssen wir vermuten in diesem physischen Menschenleib. Und wenn wir uns fragen: Was ist während der Erdenentwickelung in diesen physischen Menschenleib hineingekommen? - so werden wir in der Regel nach den Anschauungen, die man aus dem gewöhnlichen Leben und aus der gewöhnlichen Wissenschaft heraus entwickeln kann, eine falsche Vorstellung bekommen. Denn nur umgebildet, verwandelt, metamorphosiert worden ist unser physischer Leib während der Erdenentwickelung. Vieles von ihm war bereits nicht nur in der Anlage, sondern auch in der Entwickelung, in der Ausbildung während der alten Mondenentwickelung vorhanden. Was während der Erdenentwickelung hinzugekommen ist, davon sieht man eigentlich, wenn man «sehen» im wahren Sinne des Wortes nimmt, nicht viel. Eigentlich hat sich während der Erdenentwickelung nur die Lage geändert: Wir sind aufrechte, senkrecht auf der Oberfläche der Erde wandelnde Wesen geworden. Die Lage, die Richtung hat sich geändert und alles, was damit zusammenhängt. Diese senkrecht auf der Oberfläche der Erde stehende Physiognomie ist während der Erdenentwickelung dem Menschen aufgedrückt worden. Wenn Sie sich erinnern an ein sehr bekanntes mythologisches Bild, das Bild des Kentauren, so können wir geisteswissenschaftlich sagen: Dieses Bild des Kentauren, Mensch und Pferd, oder überhaupt Mensch und irgendeine Tierform, das soll eigentlich imaginativ darstellen den menschlichen physischen Leib, wie er sich herausstellen würde, wenn man hinzudenkt zu seiner jetzigen aufrechten Lage das, was der Mensch war während der Mondenentwickelung, wo er nicht diese aufrechte Lage hatte. In solchen Bildern, in solchen Imaginationen, die die Mythologie erhalten hat, liegen eben unendlich tiefe Weisheiten verborgen.

Ich wollte zunächst dies nur als ein Beispiel anführen für das Vorhandensein von tiefen Weisheiten in solchen Bildern. Kurz, es sei nur noch einmal gesagt: Wollen wir den menschlichen physischen Leib schon richtig würdigen, dann müssen wir ihn viel, viel komplizierter betrachten, als irgendeine äußere Wissenschaft das heute bequem findet. Wir müssen uns klar sein, daß eigentlich nur die Lage der einzelnen Organe, die Lage des ganzen Menschen während der ja so langen Erdenentwickelung dem Menschen aufgeprägt worden ist, und daß der Mensch im Grunde genommen eine weit, weit zurückgehende Entwickelung schon vor dem Erdenbeginne in sich aufgenommen hat.

Ein Ähnliches müssen wir uns natürlich vorstellen für die höheren Glieder der menschlichen Natur, für die geistigen: für den ätherischen Leib, für den astralischen Leib und für das Ich. Aber nun müssen wir auch die gegenseitigen Beziehungen, die gegenseitigen Verhältnisse, die Relationen der einzelnen Glieder der Menschennatur ins Auge fassen. Der physische Leib erscheint uns zunächst aus den physischen Materien heraus aufgebaut, und wir sehen ihn ja fortwährend, solange wir im Wachstum sind, selber größer werden, Materie ansetzen, oder Materie zwischen seine Glieder, zwischen seine kleinsten Teile schieben. Später, wenn wir Fett ansetzen, insofern wir das tun, sehen wir weiter, wie sich Materie im physischen Leibe ansetzt. Für den ätherischen Leib, wenn wir ihn in derselben Weise betrachten wie den physischen Leib, sehen wir etwas Ähnliches. Nur setzt sich da nicht Materie an, sondern Bewegungen. Die Bewegungen werden im Laufe des Lebens komplizierter. Beim neugeborenen Kinde haben wir im ätherischen Leibe verhältnismäßig einfache, primitive Bewegungen. Allmählich werden sie komplizierter. Aber es ist eine Vermannigfaltigung, ein Aufbau vorhanden im physischen Leib und im ätherischen Leib.

Anders sind die Dinge für den astralischen Leib und für das Ich. Wir sind ja als Menschen, die wir so herumwandeln in der physischen Welt, nur in unserem Ich zunächst tätig, denn nur das hat sein volles Bewußtsein. Wenn Sie das Auge auf irgendeine farbige Fläche richten, ist das Ich tätig, wenn Sie denken, ist das Ich tätig, wenn Sie fühlen, ist das Ich tätig. Bei allen diesen Tätigkeiten, die Sie verrichten, auch wenn Sie gehen, wenn Sie die Hände bewegen, ist das Ich tätig. Alles, was Sie tun können im wachenden Zustand auf dem physischen Plan, ist Ich-Tätigkeit. Das Ich ist da in Wirksamkeit. Wie äußert sich nun im Verhältnis zu den anderen Gliedern der menschlichen Natur diese Ich-Tätigkeit? Das, was wir so vom Aufwachen bis zum Einschlafen, also bei wachendem Bewußtsein vollbringen, wie äußert sich das? Es äußert sich dies nicht in einem Aufbauen, sondern in einem Abbauen, in einem Verbrauch von Stoffen des physischen und von Bewegungen, Kräften des ätherischen Leibes. Wenn Sie das Auge richten auf eine rote Fläche, auf eine farbige Fläche überhaupt: Dadurch, daß die farbige Fläche auf Sie einen Eindruck macht, bauen Sie ab. Es entsteht, wenn auch in sehr feinem Sinne, aber dennoch, es entsteht in Ihrem physischen Leib eine Art Ertötung des lebendigen Stoffes, der lebendigen Materie. Denken Sie sich einmal — um ein etwas grobes Beispiel zu gebrauchen -, Sie hätten einen Kristall, aber einen solchen, der noch veränderbar wäre, der Veränderungen durchmachen könnte. Und irgendeine Wirkung, sagen wir eine Lichtwirkung, würde ausgeübt: die Materie des Kristalls trübte sich, veränderte sich. So wird in der Tat jedesmal, wenn Lichtwirkung auf Ihr Auge ausgeübt wird, etwas in Ihrem physischen Leib trübe, es wird Materie zerstört in Ihrer Konstitution. Während wir wachen, vom Aufwachen bis zum Einschlafen, zerstören wir immer, wenn auch nur in ganz feiner Weise, unsere physische Materie durch unsere Ich-Tätigkeit. Deshalb müssen wir durch den Schlaf dies wieder ausgleichen. Da stellt die physische Materie sich wiederum so her, wie wir sie brauchen. Es ist immer Aufbau und Abbau. Schlafende Tätigkeit bedeutet Aufbau der physischen Materie, namentlich ihrer Konstitution; wachende Tätigkeit, Ich-Tätigkeit bedeutet Abbau. Und so haben Sie einen Zyklus: Aufbau - Abbau, Aufbau - Abbau. Wir können sagen, daß wir eigentlich fortwährend von unserer Ich-Tätigkeit aufgezehrt, verzehrt werden, und uns im Schlafe wiederherstellen müssen.

Darum ist es, daß wir oftmals beim Aufwachen bemerken, daß etwas aus unserem physischen Organismus so wie nach oben steigt. Das sind die restituierenden Kräfte, die wiederherstellenden Kräfte. Und wenn wir etwas Krankhaftes im Organismus haben, vielleicht sogar etwas feiner-Krankhaftes nur, steigt das mit auf. Wenn der Organismus gesund ist, so stellt er sich in gesunder Weise beim Aufwachen her. Wenn er krank ist, arbeitet er das Kranke auch hinauf. Daher sind manche Menschen, wenn sie aufwachen, auch Kinder, schlecht aufgelegt, sie sind nicht heiter. Das ist, weil die Nachwirkung noch da ist von dem, was aus dem Organismus heraufsteigt. Mit den Erscheinungen des Lebens stimmt nämlich in wunderbarer Weise alles dasjenige überein, was wir aus der Geisteswissenschaft heraus über den Menschen und sein Leben zu sagen haben. Erst etwa einundeinhalb Stunden nach dem Aufwachen können wir sagen, daß wir vollständig frei sind von dem, was da auch an etwas krankhaften Kräften aufsteigen kann. Das ist die Wechselwirkung zwischen dem Ich und dem physischen Leib. Diese Wechselwirkung zwischen dem Ich und dem physischen Leib, dieses Verhältnis, diese Relation, die spielt sich ab in dem Rhythmus von Schlafen und Wachen: Aufbau — Abbau, Aufbau - Abbau.

Nun haben wir aber auch ein anderes Verhältnis, das sehr wichtig ist, das nur nicht so bemerkt wird von uns im Verlaufe unseres gewöhnlichen Lebens. So wie das Ich und der physische Leib Aufbau und Abbau bringen in ihren Verhältnissen, so ist eine ähnliche Wechselwirkung zwischen dem astralischen Leib und dem ätherischen Leib. Nur daß der Aufbau, insofern er aus dem astralischen Leibe stammt, früher abgeschlossen ist im Leben, und der Abbau früher beginnt. Denn dasjenige, was unser astralischer Leib abbaut in unserem Ätherleib, hängt im wesentlichen zusammen mit unserem Schwächerwerden im Verlauf des Lebens und, wenn wir ganz schwach geworden sind, mit unserem Sterben. Der astralische Leib in bezug auf den Ätherleib hängt im wesentlichen mit dem Tode zusammen. Wir können sterben dadurch, daß unser astralischer Leib nach und nach die Kräfte des ätherischen Leibes aufzehrt, und der ätherische Leib wiederum den physischen Leib aufzehrt. So daß wir gewissermaßen auch zwischen dem ätherischen Leib und dem astralischen Leib im Leben ein Aufbauen und wieder Abbauen, wenn auch nicht in so schneller Aufeinanderfolge, so doch in einem gewissen Rhythmus, zu beobachten haben. Nun beobachten wir: Wenn wir uns zu stark anstrengen in unserer Ich-Tätigkeit, so schadet uns das. Das ist leicht begreiflich aus dem Grunde, weil ja die Ich-Tätigkeit ein Abbauen ist. Bauen wir zu viel ab, so schwächen wir unseren Organismus in einer sehr sichtbaren Weise. Dieses Schwächen des Organismus in der sehr sichtbaren Weise durch die Ich-Tätigkeit ist es ja, was äußerlich sehr leicht auffällt. Aber es kann auch eine Schwächung eintreten des ätherischen Leibes durch den astralischen Leib. Da ja der astralische Leib gewissermaßen der Verzehrer des ätherischen Leibes ist, wie wir gerade gesehen haben, so kann da eine Art Verzehrung über das Maß hinaus eintreten. Die gewöhnlichste Erscheinung dieser Art ist ja dann vorhanden, wenn wir so leben, daß unser astralischer Leib, der Träger der Leidenschaften, der Träger der Affekte, zu stark in Anspruch genommen wird. Sie wissen, das gibt dauernde Schwächungen des Menschen. Diese Schwächungen treten ein eben durch das Verzehren des ätherischen Leibes durch den astralischen Leib.

Aber hier kann noch etwas anderes stattfinden. Wie wir uns unseren astralischen Leib aufbauen, so nach und nach, von unserer Geburt, oder sagen wir von unserer Empfängnis angefangen im Verlaufe des Lebens, so hängt das mit unserem Karma zusammen. Ob wir geneigt sind, im astralischen Leibe starke Affekte, starke Leidenschaften zu entwickeln, hängt natürlich mit unserem Karma zusammen. Diese Leidenschaften können aber auch in einer gewissen Beziehung menschlich bedeutsam sein. Nehmen wir eine Eigenschaft, welche ja durch das ganze Menschenleben spielt, und doch eine Leidenschaft ist, wenn auch die edelste Leidenschaft, diejenige, die sich in ihrer edelsten Gestalt so ausbilden kann, daß sie frei ist von jeder Selbstsucht, die Leidenschaft der Liebe. Liebe ist eine Leidenschaft, nur kann sie frei werden von allem Egoismus. Es ist die einzige Leidenschaft, die frei werden kann von Egoismus. Aber sie sitzt im astralischen Leibe, der astralische Leib ist ihr Träger.

Nehmen wir nun einmal an, ein Künstler, der eine wirkliche Empfindung hat für Realitäten - also kein Naturalist, denn der hat kein Empfinden für Realitäten, der sieht nur die abstrakte naturalistische Materie, sogenannte Wirklichkeiten -, sei vor die Aufgabe gestellt, eine menschliche Gestalt zu bilden, die ganz durchhaucht, durchflossen ist von der Leidenschaft der Liebe, von der edlen Leidenschaft der Liebe. Jedesmal, wenn ein Künstler vor die Aufgabe gestellt war, eine Venus, eine Aphrodite zu bilden, dann hatte er eben das zu empfinden, daß die menschliche Gestalt ganz durchzogen sein muß von dieser Leidenschaft der Liebe. Liebe muß etwas Überwiegendes haben, sie muß sich ausgießen. Was kann denn da nur der Fall sein? Man kann ja nicht sagen, daß man eine gewöhnliche weibliche Gestalt als Aphrodite, als Venus bilden kann. Also kann nicht der astralische Leib der Aphrodite, der Venus, so sein, wie jeder weibliche astralische Leib, denn sonst wäre jede Frau, jedes Mädchen eine Aphrodite, eine Venus. Das ist ja nicht der Fall, nicht wahr? Also es handelt sich darum, daß der astralische Leib in einer ganz besonderen Weise ausgebildet sein muß. Der Künstler braucht nicht Geisteswissenschaft zu kennen, braucht das nicht zu wissen, aber fühlen muß er, wenn er eine Venus bildet: da muß der astralische Leib mehr ausgebildet sein, intensiver ausgebildet sein, als bei der eben NichtAphrodite, Nicht-Venus. Aber der astralische Leib, haben wir gesagt, hat etwas Verzehrendes, etwas richtig Aufzehrendes. Das muß ich ausdrücken. Wie wird denn der Künstler, der das nun wirklich empfindet, der wirklich eine Empfindung hat, daß da ein aufzehrender astralischer Leib da ist, eine Venus bilden? Er wird sichtbar werden lassen, daß gewissermaßen der physische Leib etwas an sich hat, wodurch er nach und nach aufgezehrt wird. Hier ist der Geisteswissenschafter in einer anderen Situation, als, sagen wir zum Beispiel, der moderne Arzt.

Nehmen wir an, ein Künstler bildet eine solche Venus, bei deren Bildung er richtig empfunden hat: Da ist ein stärker aufzehrender astralischer Leib vorhanden als bei einer gewöhnlichen Frau. Wir werden es dem schmalen Hals, der Bildung des Brustkorbes ansehen, wir werden es auch den anderen Gliedern ansehen, daß da etwas Verzehrendes im astralischen Leibe zugrunde liegt, werden es vielleicht der Gestalt ansehen, daß sie nicht besonders alt werden kann, wenn der Künstler die Sache physisch ausdrückt. Da wird der Geisteswissenschafter sagen, wenn einmal ein Künstler so etwas tut: Dieser Künstler hat empfunden, was da eigentlich in der Realität zugrunde liegt. Wir werden von diesem Gesichtspunkte uns sagen: Oftmals empfindet der Künstler, indem er bildet, eine reale geistige Wirklichkeit. - Was wird der Arzt sagen, der nicht Geisteswissenschafter ist, wenn er sieht, daß ein Künstler solch eine Gestalt gebildet hat? «Das ist eine schwindsüchtige Gestalt», wird er sagen, denn in der Tat: Bei jemandem, der die Schwindsucht hat, ist auch der astralische Leib durch das Karma einer früheren Inkarnation ein stärker verbrennender astralischer Leib, als bei jemandem, der nicht die Schwindsucht hat. Botticelli hat eine sehr schöne, bewunderte Venus gebildet, die meisten von Ihnen werden sie kennen. Auf diesem Bilde der Venus, die auf der Muschel steht, sehen wir einen richtigen physischen Leib, der so gebildet ist von Botticelli, daß wir uns denken müssen: ein verzehrender astralischer Leib liegt zugrunde. Daher ist auch ein Streit entstanden unter den Kunstgelehrten. Die einen bewundern die von den sogenannten Normalgestalten abweichende Gestalt dieser Venus mit dem schmalen Halse, mit der merkwürdigen Oberbrust und so weiter; die anderen sagen, das kommt ja doch nur davon her, weil er ein schwindsüchtiges Modell gehabt hat. - Gewiß, man kann alles materialistisch erklären. Wahrscheinlich hat sogar Bortticelli ein schwindsüchtiges Modell gehabt: Diese Simonetta, die mit dreiundzwanzig Jahren gestorben ist. Aber nicht darauf kommt es an, sondern darauf, daß er das Gefühl hatte, gerade dieses Modell zu verwenden für eine Venus, das ihm die Möglichkeit bot, einen Menschen mit einem den physischen Leib schneller als bei anderen aufzehrenden astralischen Leibe zu machen. Und in der Tat, gerade bei diesem Bild - ich will es langsam herumgehen lassen, es ist eine schlechte Nachbildung, aber ich habe im Augenblick keine bessere werden Sie sehen, wie da in der Tat bemerkbar ist, daß wir es mit einem anders gearteten astralischen Leib zu tun haben, mit einem den physischen Leib durch den Ätherleib hindurch verzehrenden astralischen Leib. Sie sehen, wie uns Geisteswissenschaft führen kann, wie uns Geisteswissenschaft den Weg weisen kann zum Verständnis solcher Dinge.

Überall werden Sie finden, daß ein Blick, der nicht durch die Geisteswissenschaft geschärft ist, das Leben nirgends aufklären kann. Überall wird Licht in die Dinge hineingebracht, wenn wir die Dinge mit Hilfe der Geisteswissenschaft betrachten: in das äußere Leben, wie es schon da ist, und in das Leben der Kunst. Allerdings ist schon notwendig, daß wir uns dann Geduld aneignen, um den Menschen als etwas viel, viel Komplizierteres zu betrachten, als dasjenige ist, wozu sich eben äußere Wissenschaft bequemt. Der Mensch ist schon einmal komplizierter, und das unverantwortlichste Wort, das oftmals auf dem Gebiete der Weltanschauung geprägt wird, ist das, daß die beste Erklärung diejenige ist, die am einfachsten ist. Nicht das ist die beste Erklärung, die am einfachsten ist, sondern das ist die beste Erklärung, die richtig die Sache trifft. Dessen müssen wir uns klar sein.

Ich will Ihnen ein anderes Beispiel sagen, an dem Sie sehen können, wie die gewöhnliche Wissenschaft nicht zurechtkommen kann ohne den geisteswissenschaftlichen Blick. Erinnern Sie sich an einen öffentlichen Vortrag, den ich drüben im Architektenhause im Laufe dieses Winters gehalten habe, wo ich gesagt habe, wir müssen zunächst zwei Glieder des äußeren physischen Leibes unterscheiden, den Kopf des Menschen und den übrigen Leib. Wenn Sie das Skelett anschauen, gliedert sich scharf ab das Haupt, und der übrige Leib bildet den Rest. Ich habe dazumal bemerkt, daß - nicht ganz, aber im wesentlichen - alles, was an dem Haupte daranhängt, Erdenbildung ist. So, wie der Mensch nach der Mondenentwickelung auf die Erde herübergekommen ist, ist er nur noch enthalten in der Hauptesbildung. Wir können sagen, das Haupt ist ein wesentlich älteres Organ als der übrige Organismus. Der Kopf ist das Älteste, das Ehrwürdigste am Menschen. Die Erde hat ihm das andere angehängt - im wesentlichen, nicht ganz, aber man muß ja immer die Dinge, ich möchte sagen, annähernd betrachten. Wiederum, wenn wir die Tatsache betrachten, wie das Ich von Inkarnation zu Inkarnation geht, so müssen wir auch da die Kräfte unterscheiden, die dem Haupte zugrunde liegen, und die Kräfte, die dem übrigen Organismus zugrunde liegen. Erinnern Sie sich an das, was ich in jenem öffentlichen Vortrag gesagt habe: Unser Haupt ist im wesentlichen in seiner Form, in seiner Gestalt, das Ergebnis unserer früheren Inkarnation. Wie wir in unserer früheren Inkarnation uns verhalten haben, wie wir uns betragen haben im Leben, das hat unserem Organismus das Gepräge gegeben, das drückt sich in der nächsten Inkarnation in der Physiognomie, namentlich aber in der Schädelbildung unseres Hauptes aus. Erinnern Sie sich, daß ich einmal gesagt habe: Die Reinkarnation, die Wiederverkörperung, die wiederholten Erdenleben - am Schädel kann man sie mit Händen greifen; denn wie der Schädel geformt ist, das hängt davon ab, wie wir in unserer vorhergehenden Inkarnation waren. Wie wir unsere übrige Physiognomie bilden, unsere Haltung, ob wir mehr oder weniger zappelig sind, ob wir mehr oder weniger Gesten machen, das wirkt wiederum auf die nächste Inkarnation; das drückt sich in der nächsten Inkarnation in der Gesichtsbildung, namentlich in der Schädelbildung aus. Sie können daraus ersehen, wie Streit entstehen kann über verhältnismäßig wichtige Dinge. Sie wissen, es gibt Leute, die sind weise, wie sie namentlich selber meinen, auf dem Gebiete der Schädelkunde: Sie fühlen den Schädel ab und geben dann eine Charakteristik des Menschen. Die kann mehr oder weniger stimmen, manchmal ganz gut stimmen, aber vollständig stimmend, erschöpfend kann sie nie sein, denn es ist wirklich wahr: Jeder von uns hat schon seinen eigenen Schädel, und kein Schädel gleicht dem anderen, denn unser Schädel ist das Ergebnis unserer vorhergehenden Inkarnation. Der übrige Organismus hingegen bereitet den Schädel der nächsten Inkarnation vor. Nun, die Kraneologen, die Phrenologen streiten sich, weil sie eben generalisieren wollen, wo individualisiert werden muß. Jeder hat seinen eigenen Schädel! Nur durch Intuition kann man aus der Schädelbeschaffenheit irgend etwas finden für die tiefere Veranlagung des Menschen. Aber auch abgesehen von den Phrenologen, die Wissenschaft selber weiß nichts Rechtes anzufangen mit der menschlichen Schädelform. Und da möchte ich wieder auf einen Punkt aufmerksam machen, wo die gewöhnliche Naturwissenschaft die Ergänzung braucht durch die Geisteswissenschaft.

Im Jahre 1887 hielt der berühmte Anatom Karl Langer einen Vortrag über drei wirklich bedeutende Menschenschädel: über den Schädel von Schubert, den Schädel von Haydn, den Schädel von Beethoven. Karl Langer war Anatom, vom anatomischen Standpunkte aus wollte er die drei Schädel beleuchten. Er betonte in jenem Vortrag, daß er bei keinem der drei Schädel irgendwelche Hinweise auf besondere musikalische Eigenschaften hätte finden können, am wenigsten am Schädel von Beethoven. Er betonte, daß der Schädel von Beethoven vom anatomisch-physiologischen Standpunkte aus sogar ein so häßlicher Schädel sei, daß man alles hätte eher vermuten können, als daß in diesem häßlichen Schädel die Seele Beethovens tätig gewesen sein könnte. Und wir haben da in Karl Langer einen äußerlichen Anatomen, der einmal genau zugesehen hat an dem besonderen Falle, der nicht von phantastischen Theorien, sondern von Realitäten ausgegangen ist und der sich gestehen mußte: Man kann an den Schädeln nichts finden, was auf musikalische Eigenschaften deutet. -— Nun wissen wir, daß ja Haydn, Schubert, Beethoven eben in jener Inkarnation, aus der der Schädel herstammt, Musiker waren. In der vorgehenden Inkarnation brauchen sie es nicht gewesen zu sein. Und wir können es sehr gut verstehen, daß alles dasjenige, was dann sich abgeklärt hat in der Zeit zwischen dem Tode und einer neuen Geburt, bei Beethoven gerade aus einer mächtigen Kampfnatur hervorgegangen sein kann. Das von der vorhergehenden Inkarnation Herüberkommende drückt sich aus in der Schädelbildung. Insbesondere fiel es Langer auf, daß es ja drei Musiker waren, aber gar nichts Gemeinschaftliches in den Schädeln vorhanden war, gar nichts an irgendwelchen Eigenschaften, die diesen drei Menschen gemeinschaftlich gewesen wären, weil eben vermutlich alle drei ganz verschiedene Erlebnisse in einer vorhergehenden Inkarnation gehabt haben und Musiker erst geworden sind in der Inkarnation, in der sie den betreffenden Schädel gehabt haben. Aber ihre Musikernatur drückte sich in dem Seelischen aus, während sich in der Schädelbildung, in der Schädelformation dasjenige, was sie in der vorhergehenden Inkarnation erlebt haben, ausdrückte.

Es ist dann ein Streit entstanden über diese drei Schädel. Ein anderer Anatom versuchte, den Langer zu widerlegen. Aber es kam nicht viel bei diesem Streit heraus, denn worauf ist eigentlich der physische Anatom angewiesen, wenn er so etwas untersucht? Nicht wahr, er will nichts wissen von einer vorhergehenden Inkarnation, daher greift er zur Vererbung. Und Schaaffhausen, der den Karl Langer widerlegen wollte, bemerkte: Nun ja, unsere Schädelform haben wir halt vererbt bekommen! - Niemals wird bei einer solchen Gelegenheit untersucht, wie es mit der wirklichen Vererbung der Schädelform ist. Da würde man schon bemerken, wenn man nicht mit jener gewöhnlichen Logik vorginge, mit der man so gern auf diesem Gebiet vorgeht, wie unbegründet es ist, da von Vererbung zu sprechen. In Wahrheit bilden wir uns unsere Schädelform aus nach dem Ergebnis unserer vorhergehenden Inkarnation. Gewiß können sich mit diesem, was gemäß der vorhergehenden Inkarnation eingetreten ist, andere Dinge kreuzen. Wir wachsen in einem gewissen Kreise auf. Namentlich wenn unser Gefühl, unser Gemüt mit Persönlichkeiten irgendeiner Umgebung verbunden ist, so werden wir in die feinere Organisation noch manches hineindrücken. Aber im wesentlichen ist die Schädelformation aufgebaut nach der vorhergehenden Inkarnation.

Aber Sie wissen ja — ich habe das oft erwähnt -, wie geistreich man eigentlich mit der sogenannten Vererbungstheorie vorgeht. Es gibt jetzt ein sehr fleißig gearbeitetes, gelehrtes Buch - gegen die Gelehrsamkeit in einem solchen Fall soll wirklich nichts eingewendet werden, die Dinge sind in der Regel ungeheuer fleißig gearbeitet -, das verfolgt die Vorfahren Goethes, soweit sie sich eben verfolgen lassen. Was will man denn mit einem solchen Nachweis? Man will zeigen, daß dasjenige, was sich bei den verschiedenen Vorfahren eines Menschen ergeben hat, dann auftritt, wenn einmal ein Genie sich anschließt an eine Vorfahrenreihe. Man denkt, das sei furchtbar logisch. Aber das beweist nicht mehr, wie ich schon öfter gesagt habe, als daß, wenn ein Mensch ins Wasser fällt und man ihn herauszieht, er naß ist; denn selbstverständlich trägt derjenige, der durchgegangen ist durch die Vererbungslinie, noch Merkmale der Vererbung. Er hat sie sich ja aufgesucht. Aber daß die Vererbungstheorie wirklich so gelten würde wie die Naturwissenschaft annimmt, das müßte man ja dadurch beweisen, daß man ausgeht von gewissen Eigenschaften und sie dann bei den Nachkommen aufzeigt. Man müßte also von dem Genie ausgehen und dann auf die Nachkommen übergehen. Das wird man wohl bleiben lassen. Man kann ja nicht beweisen, daß Goethes Genialität sich auf seinen Sohn oder auf seine Enkel vererbt hat, da man gerade diese ja kennt, nicht wahr! In der Nachkommenschaft anderer Genies ist dergleichen oftmals auch nicht nachweisbar. Wenn es nachweisbar ist, beruht es eben auf ganz etwas anderem, als auf einer physischen Vererbung, es beruht darauf, daß eine Seele die Tendenz hat, in eine besondere Familie hinein sich zu inkarnieren, bestimmte Eigenschaften aufzusuchen. Nun, darüber haben wir ja öfter gesprochen. Sehen Sie, das ist solch ein Beispiel, wie wiederum die gewöhnliche Wissenschaft ergänzt werden muß durch Geisteswissenschaft. Auf Schritt und Tritt muß dasjenige, was uns die gewöhnliche Wissenschaft bietet, und was uns das gewöhnliche Leben bietet, von geisteswissenschaftlichen Einsichten aus erst beleuchtet werden. Die Menschen ahnen heute noch gar nicht, wie wunderbar die Mysterien des Weltenwerdens auf die Seele wirken, wenn man sie in geisteswissenschaftlichem Sinne betrachtet.

Erinnern Sie sich doch daran, daß ich öfter sprach von dem vierten nachatlantischen Zeitraum, dem griechisch-lateinischen, und unserem jetzigen fünften, und ich habe manches angegeben, wodurch sich unterscheidet der Mensch des vierten nachatlantischen Zeitraums, des griechisch- lateinischen, von dem Menschen des gegenwärtigen Zeitraums. Die gegenwärtigen Menschen schauen sich die griechischen Kunstwerke an. Sie bewundern, wie diese griechischen Kunstwerke, die Plastiken namentlich, fein gesehen sind, wie da Dinge gesehen sind, die der Mensch heute nicht so ohne weiteres sieht. Derjenige, der heute im grob materialistischen Sinne denkt, sagt: Die Griechen haben halt besser gesehen, sie haben ja auch den menschlichen Körper gesehen bei ihren Spielen; und man hat nicht übel Lust, diese Spiele wieder nachzumachen. - Nun, diejenigen, die heute griechische Spiele nachmachen, werden schon keine Griechen werden, darauf können Sie sich verlassen; aber die Äußerlichkeiten macht man ja vielfach nach. Ich habe es ja schon hervorgehoben, daß der Grieche in einer anderen Weise nachbildete, als ein moderner europäischer Mensch. Das beruht darauf, daß der Grieche noch etwas im Innern hatte. Wir wissen, daß der Grieche ausgebildet hatte die Verstandes- oder Gemütsseele; bei uns ist das Ich nach außen gerichtet, die Verstandes- oder Gemütsseele aber ist nach innen gerichtet, erfaßt mehr das innere Gleichgewicht und die innere Bewegungsfähigkeit des Leibes. Der Mensch steckt noch mehr in sich als Grieche, denn als moderner Mensch. Der Grieche hat daher auch nicht in derselben Weise wie der moderne Künstler mit dem Modell gearbeitet, sondern wenn er den Arm zu bilden hatte, dann fühlte er in sich die Form des Muskels, fühlte in sich die Gestalt, er fühlte, wenn er eine Bewegung bilden sollte, wenn er selbst die Bewegung machte, wie das ist. Ja, er konnte noch mehr, der Grieche, weil er noch drinnen steckte. Sie wissen, in der ägyptisch-chaldäischen Zeit wurde ausgebildet die Empfindungsseele, in der griechisch-lateinischen Zeit die Verstandes- oder Gemütsseele. Sie steckt aber noch darinnen. Erst das Ich tritt heraus, sieht die Außenwelt an. Wenn der Grieche sich einen Vogel anschaute, so konnte er in seiner eigenen Armbewegung, wenn er den Flug des Vogels nachahmte, fühlen, wie er die Flügel gestalten mußte, während der moderne Mensch ein Modell braucht, sich einen Vogel irgendwo anheftet und dann den nachmalt oder nachbildet. Dieses innerliche Erleben ist der modernen Menschheit mit Recht verlorengegangen. Aber wissen muß man das und würdigen muß man das: Dieses innerliche plastische Verständnis, das der Grieche hatte, hat der moderne Mensch nicht. Wir müssen verstehen, daß, wenn der Grieche einen Menschen in Bewegung in der Plastik nachbildete, er aus innerem Wissen, nicht von äußerlichem Anschauen nach dem Modell wußte, wie er das Bein, die Zehe, die Finger, wie er das alles zu stellen hatte. Der moderne Mensch kann eigentlich im Grunde genommen einen Vogel, der fliegt, nicht malen. Auf modernen Bildern schweben die Vögel, sie fliegen nicht.

Daß das so ist, das ist schon richtig, man muß es nur verstehen. Man muß an den heutigen Menschen nicht die Anforderungen stellen, die man an den griechischen Menschen stellte. Es mußte abgedämpft werden dieses innerliche Erfühlen, damit der Mensch das Ich nach außen richten konnte. Man darf eben nicht die Menschheitsentwickelung so betrachten, wie sie die modernen materialistischen Darwinisten betrachten, daß man nur ausgeht von dem unvollkommenen und heraufgeht zum vollkommenen Menschen, sondern man muß die geistige Entwickelung daneben haben, die hinuntersteigt von dem in der geistigen Welt vollkommenen zum immer mehr und mehr dem physischen Organismus sich anpassenden Menschen. Zwei Entwickelungsströmungen haben wir verlaufend, nicht bloß eine. Daher können wir sagen: Wir konnten in modernem Anschauen etwas aufnehmen, was beim früheren Anschauen nicht der Fall war. Wir wissen, wie ja früheres Anschauen nicht hineingetragen werden soll in späteres, wie es aber natürlich im Naturverlauf zuweilen hineingetragen wird.

Da möchte ich Sie auf etwas aufmerksam machen. Blicken Sie in irgendeine illustrierte Zeitschrift, den «Tag» oder die «Woche» oder so etwas, und betrachten Sie eine Momentaufnahme, wo die Menschen auf der Straße gehen. Die Momentaufnahmen geben die unmittelbare äußere Wirklichkeit, sie geben den Menschen, wie er da ist — schön ist es meistens nicht! Wenn man eine Momentaufnahme eines Vogels macht, sieht die auch ganz anders aus, als der Maler sie heute malen würde. Aber das Merkwürdige ist: Wenn Sie Japanische Vögel anschauen, sind die in ihrer Zeichnung ähnlich den Momentaufnahmen. Das ist einmal so. Es gibt eine gewisse Ähnlichkeit zwischen den japanischen Zeichnungen im Fluge befindlicher Vögel und der Momentaufnahme des Vogels. Und sogar bei Zeichnungen von Menschen ist es ähnlich, denn der Japaner — aber man muß sich beschränken auf die Beobachtung des Ausschreitens — zeichnet viel eher das, was die Momentaufnahme gibt. Das rührt eben davon her, daß das japanische Anschauen des vierten nachatlantischen Zeitraumes sich bewahrt hat in die Gegenwart hinein. Wir können nicht mehr so sehen, wie der Japaner sieht. Der Japaner sieht heute, nur nicht mit demselben Schönheitssinn wie der Grieche, vielfach im griechischen Sinne richtiger, als der zur fünften nachatlantischen Kulturepoche fortgeschrittene Europäer. Diese Dinge werden einem nur erklärlich, wenn man sie wiederum mit dem Blick der Geisteswissenschaft anschaut. Und wir werden, wenn Sie die asiatische Bildnerei vergleichen mit der europäischen Bildnerei, den Unterschied finden zwischen dem vierten, dort erhaltenen, nachatlantischen Zeitraum und unserem fünften nachatlantischen Zeitraum.

Sie sehen überall die Notwendigkeit, Geisteswissenschaft hineinzutragen in die Dinge. Aber wir sind heute in bezug auf unsere äußere Kultur weit entfernt von diesem Verständnisse, Geisteswissenschaft in das äußere Wissen hineinzutragen. Das rührt zum größten Teile wirklich nicht davon her, daß es ganz besonders schwierig wäre, ein geisteswissenschaftliches Anschauen zu bekommen; man sträubt sich nur dagegen. Dasjenige, was in dem Buche «Wie erlangt man Erkenntnisse der höheren Welten?» beschrieben ist, kann verhältnismäßig leicht erhalten werden. Man kann schon dazu kommen, aber man sträubt sich dagegen. Ich meine selbstverständlich nicht Sie, aber die äußere Kultur sträubt sich dagegen. Sie sträubt sich namentlich aus dem Grunde dagegen, weil diese äußere Kultur heute zunächst die Grundbedingungen gar nicht herstellen will, um denkerisches Gewissen zu entwickeln, denkerische Gewissenhaftigkeit, logisches Gewissen. Und da kommen wir auf eine wirklich vorhandene Kulturkrankheit unserer Zeit, die der Geisteswissenschafter ins Auge fassen muß, weil sie überall an ihn herantritt: der Mangel des logischen, des Gedankengewissens. Da kann man die sonderbarsten Entdeckungen machen. Wir haben ja dafür schon Beispiele angeführt, nehmen wir heute wiederum ein Beispiel.

Da gab es einen Mann - es gibt ihn noch -, der wollte den philosophischen Nachweis führen, daß Ideale nichts Wirkliches sind, nichts Wesenhaftes. Er wollte einfach der modernen Zeitanschauung Rechnung tragen, die ja Ideale zur Not gelten läßt, aber sie nicht als wirklich Vorhandenes betrachtet, wie irgend etwas Äußeres, physisch Wahrnehmbares. Aber auf der anderen Seite war der Betreffende Philosoph und hätte ja nun wirklich furchtbar wenig zu tun, wenn er die Ideale nicht gelten läßt; denn mit dem Physischen beschäftigen sich schließlich die anderen Wissenschaften, und man muß ja als Philosoph noch etwas zu tun haben, nicht wahr? Aber nun: Wesenhaftes sind die Ideale nicht, gelten lassen will man sie doch, da sagt er: Sie sind eben Fiktionen, man muß sie als notwendige Fiktionen, als notwendige Annahmen gelten lassen. Der Betreffende hat dann diese Idee weiter ausgebildet als eine ganze Philosophie, die Philosophie des «Als Ob». Ich habe schon manchmal davon gesprochen. Nach dieser Philosophie sagt man: Es ist nicht notwendig anzunehmen, daß es ein Atom gäbe, aber wir betrachten die Welt so, als ob es ein Atom gibt; es ist nicht notwendig anzunehmen, daß es eine Seele gibt, aber wir betrachten die Welt so, als ob es eine Seele gäbe. Also eine ganze Philosophie des «Als Ob»! Dieser Mann hat nun einen Vergleich gebraucht, durch den er seinen Lesern begreiflich machen wollte, daß man doch an Idealen festhalten kann, wenn man sie auch als nichts Wesenhaftes ansieht, und dieser Vergleich ist charakteristisch für das logische Gewissen dieses Philosophen. Er hat gesagt: Sehen wir uns ein Kind an, das spielt mit der Puppe, trotzdem es weiß, daß die Puppe kein wirkliches Leben in sich hat. Warum sollen wir denn also die Ideale abweisen, da die Kinder doch nicht die Puppe abweisen? Trotzdem die Puppe nicht lebt, behandeln sie sie wie lebend. Warum sollen wir denn die Ideale nicht ebenso behandeln, wenn wir auch wissen, daß sie nichts Wesenhaftes sind? —

Wir haben also schon die Anschauung, daß Ideale nichts Wesenhaftes sind, aber der Mensch kann sie doch im Leben gebrauchen, indem er sie so ähnlich behandelt wie das kleine Mädchen die Puppe, die auch nichts Lebendiges ist, aber wie etwas Lebendes behandelt wird. Wir haben es mit einem Philosophen zu tun, der die Ideale mit Puppen vergleicht! Nun, versuchen wir zurechtzukommen mit diesem Vergleich, mit diesem Bilde. Erstens: Das kleine Mädchen spielt mit der Puppe, aber es spielt unter der Voraussetzung, daß die Puppe ein lebendes Wesen mindestens abbildet. Es würde kaum mit der Puppe spielen, wenn es nicht in der Puppe etwas hätte, was ein lebendes Wesen abbildet. Das ist die Voraussetzung. Also es läßt sich wohl kaum die Puppe mit dem Ideal vergleichen, wenn wir nicht voraussetzen, daß das Ideal doch etwas abbildet, nicht wahr? Das ist der erste Unsinn, den er sagt, daß er überhaupt diesen Vergleich gebraucht. Das Zweite ist: Wir wollen nach den Idealen, als ob sie bestünden, das Leben einrichten. Ja, wird dabei etwas herauskommen? Natürlich so viel, als herauskommt, wenn das Kind mit der Puppe spielt, denn diesen Vergleich legt er ja zugrunde. Also bloß eine Nachahmung des Lebens! Hier haben wir es nicht nur zu tun mit einem ganz törichten Vergleich, sondern wir haben es zu tun auch mit einem zweiten Irrtum, mit einer zweiten Torheit des Mannes. Der Vergleich muß falsch sein, weil der Puppenvergleich gar nicht geht: Die Puppe bildet das Leben wenigstens nach - Ideale sollen nichts nachbilden. Aber wenn sie so wären, so würden sie nur eine Imitation des Lebens zustande bringen, nicht das Leben selbst. Wir haben es also mit einem Doppelunsinn zu tun. Wir haben einen Philosophen vor uns, der nicht nur einen einfachen, sondern einen Doppelunsinn tut. Solcher Doppelunsinne könnten wir viele, viele nachweisen in der Wissenschaft und im Leben. Insbesondere sind diese Doppelunsinne häufig in der sogenannten Weltweisheit, in der Philosophie zu finden. Wenn solches Denken vorhanden ist, wenn das Denken auf solch schiefen Bahnen geht, dann kann sich dieses Denken nicht disziplinieren, so daß es nur gültige Vergleiche bildet, nur ein Gefühl entwickelt für gültige Vergleiche, und dann ist kein Fundament gegeben für geistige Anschauung. Denn geistige Anschauung kann sich nur entwickeln, wenn das Denken zunächst ein gesundes ist.

Deshalb bitte ich Sie recht sehr, gerade in dem neuen Buche, das in einiger Zeit erscheinen wird, «Vom Menschenrätsel», zu beachten, was dort gesagt ist über den Begriff des Wirklichen. Wir müssen den Begriff des Wirklichen entwickeln, nicht bloß den Begriff des Logischen. Wenn ich einen Kristall vor mir habe und ihn als Kristall betrachte, so ist er eine in sich abgeschlossene Wirklichkeit. Der Kristall sagt mir die Wahrheit über sich, wenn ich ihn als Kristall betrachte. Aber nehmen Sie einen Baumstamm, dessen Zweige abgeschnitten sind, dessen Wurzel abgeschnitten ist! Sagt der auch über sich die Wahrheit? Nein, der lügt mich an, so wie er in der Sinnlichkeit da ist, denn so kann er nicht sein! Dieser Baumstamm könnte nicht sein, wenn er sich nicht im Zusammenhang mit einer Wurzel und mit Zweigen und Blättern entwickelte; das gehört auch zu dem abgeschnittenen Baumstamm dazu, und ich habe nur eine Wahrheit, wenn ich den ganzen Baum vorstelle. Da habe ich etwas aus der Sinnlichkeit herausgeschnitten. Aber dieses Herausgeschnittene ist keine Wirklichkeit. Wirklichkeitsgemäßes Denken muß überall ein Gefühl dafür entwickeln, was man einschließen muß in die Vorstellung. Nur wenn man ein Gefühl davon hat, daß ein Blatt nichts Wirkliches ist, weil es nur im Zusammenhang mit einer Pflanze gedacht werden kann - es ist etwas anderes, ob ich ein Blatt finde oder ob ich einen Kristall finde —, nur wenn ich diesen Wirklichkeitssinn entwickele, bin ich vorbereitet dazu, auch zu den geistigen Wirklichkeiten in der richtigen Weise aufzusteigen. Logisch kann manches sein; wirklichkeitsgemäß ist etwas anderes! Da handelt es sich darum, daß man den Sinn für die Wirklichkeit entwickelt. Man kann sehr leicht Fehler machen in bezug auf diesen Sinn des Wirklichen. Wenn ich ein Bild anschaue, das dadurch entstanden ist, daß eine einzige Figur aus einem Ganzen herausgeschnitten ist, so ist das nichts Wirkliches, denn das ganze Bild muß ich ansehen. Wenn nun einer sagt: Ja, dann mußt du aber überhaupt, weil dieses Bild sich ergibt aus früheren Bildern, die derselbe Maler und andere Maler gemalt haben, die ganze Kunstgeschichte überblicken. - Das wäre wiederum Unsinn. Man muß eben diesen Wirklichkeitssinn entwickeln, daß es in sich abgeschlossene Realitäten gibt. Sonst würde «wirklich» überhaupt nur dasjenige sein, was das ganze Weltenall ist. Das also bitte ich Sie ganz besonders zu beachten in der Schrift, die demnächst erscheinen wird: «Vom Menschenrätsel».

Nachdem ich gewissermaßen den Gegenstand der heutigen Betrachtung erschöpft habe, also nichts abziehe von der eigentlichen Betrachtung, so darf ich noch etwas über diese hinausgehend sagen, nicht um irgend etwas Abträgliches, Schlimmes zu sagen, aber um etwas zu sagen, was ein wenig geeignet ist, Licht zu werfen auf die Art, wie unsere ganze Bewegung genommen werden muß. Man kann ja wirklich diese Geisteswissenschaft in die gegenwärtige Kultur nur hineinbringen, wenn eine Anzahl von Menschen da sind, welche den guten Willen haben, mit dem rechten Fühlen und Empfinden zu dieser Geisteswissenschaft zu stehen. Ich mache solche Betrachtungen immer ungern, aber sie müssen schon einmal gemacht werden. Sehen Sie, ich bemühe mich auf jede mögliche Art, zu zeigen, wie in der Tat in unserer Gegenwart die Tendenz, der Impuls ist nach dem Geisteswissenschaftlichen hin. Zu diesem Ende habe ich Ihnen angeführt die zwei Bücher von Hermann Bahr «Expressionismus» und «Himmelfahrt», weil wir es da zu tun haben mit einem Menschen, der über fünfzig Jahre alt geworden ist und jetzt beginnt, trotzdem er so und soviele Dramen und Romane geschrieben hat, gleichsam eine Sehnsucht zu entwickeln nach dem Geisteswissenschaftlichen und auch nach Goethe hin, der so innig zusammenhängt mit den Impulsen der Geisteswissenschaft. Und ich versuchte zu zeigen, wie dieser Hermann Bahr aus einem guten Willen heraus endlich mit fünfzig Jahren angefangen hat - wie er das selbst gesteht -, nun endlich Goethe zu lesen, und wie er angefangen hat, ein bißchen sich hineinzufinden, «tappend», sagte ich, in das Geisteswissenschaftliche, so daß er in dem allerersten Anfang ist. Solche Bücher wie «Expressionismus» von Hermann Bahr, und das andere: «Himmelfahrt», sie sind wirklich außerordentlich bezeichnend, weil sie uns zeigen, wie Geisteswissenschaft - verzeihen Sie den trivialen Ausdruck - eine Frage der Zeit ist. Aber wir kommen nur weiter auf diesem Gebiete, wenn wir die Dinge wirklich ernstlich und gründlich nehmen, wenn wir sie auch nehmen mit der richtigen Ehrfurcht vor dem Geisteswissenschaftlichen, wenn wir gewissermaßen wissen: Es ist ein GrundImpuls, der aufgesucht wird dabei in unserer gegenwärtigen Kulturentwickelung. Schaden muß es unserer Sache immer, wenn die Dinge oberflächlich genommen werden, wenn die Dinge so genommen werden, daß dasjenige, was hier — es darf ja, ohne die Bescheidenheit zu verletzen, gewiß gesagt werden — mit Gründlichkeit versucht wird, verwechselt wird mit allem möglichen Charlatanhaften, Törichten, Phantastischen in unserer Zeit. Nichts schadet unserer Sache so sehr, als wenn sie verwechselt wird mit allem möglichen phantastischen, dilettantischen Zeug. Nun arbeiten wir ja lange zusammen, und es muß schon sich allmählich entwickeln dieser Ernst gegenüber der Sache und dieses Unterscheidungsvermögen gegenüber anderen Dingen, die ja manche Ähnlichkeiten haben, aber schließlich hat ein Köter auch mit einem Löwen einige Ähnlichkeit: Sie haben beide vier Beine! Schließlich hat alles mit allem Ähnlichkeit! Dasjenige, was aber vor allen Dingen berücksichtigt werden muß, ist der Ernst des Strebens, der Ernst des Arbeitens. Nun wirklich, betrachten Sie es so, daß ich selbstverständlich in dem Fall, den ich hier bespreche, den außerordentlich guten Willen anerkenne, der dabei zugrunde liegt - dankbar bin ich für den guten Willen -, aber daß ich doch das Symptomatische schon einmal gezwungen bin zu besprechen.

Nachdem ich also in den zwei Betrachtungen auseinandergesetzt habe, wie Hermann Bahr gleichsam ein Konterfei von sich selber in seinem «Franz» schildert, wie der durch die verschiedensten Dinge durch das Leben geht, wie er dann zu einer Art von Mystik kommt — also eine ernsthaftige Sache, die ein Abbild ist eines ganzen Menschenlebens -, da bekam ich vor einigen Tagen aus dem Kreise derjenigen, die das hier sich angehört haben, ein Buch zugeschickt, «Apostel Dodenscheidt» von Margarethe Böhme, mit der Bemerkung: So wie der Franz bei Hermann Bahr, so hätte doch auch der Apostel Dodenscheidt alle möglichen Entwickelungen durchgemacht und hätte sich zuletzt durchgerungen zu der Anschauung von Reinkarnation und Karma. —- Nun, das Buch, das mir da geschickt worden ist, ist ein Schlüsselroman der schlimmsten Sorte. Man braucht sich ja nur an gewisse Dinge hier in Berlin und der weiteren Umgebung zu erinnern: Es gab einmal einen Josua Klein und ähnliche Leute; in diesem Roman gibt’s einen Gottfried Groß und so weiter. Und nichts Schlimmeres könnte einem passieren, als daß die beiden Dinge, die hier gemeint sind, und die Dinge, die diesem Schlüsselroman zugrunde liegen, der außerdem ein literarisch minderwertiges Buch ist, ein schlechtes Buch in literarischer, künstlerischer Beziehung, in einem Atem genannt werden! Es ist aber die Tendenz vorhanden, die Dinge in einem Atem zu nennen, wenn so etwas geschehen kann, daß die Dinge zusammengeworfen werden. Es ist gewiß keine Sünde, daß das gerade in diesem Fall geschehen ist — es ist ja mir geschickt worden. Aber es zeigt doch, welche Ideenassoziationen sich bilden, mit welchen Dingen man dasjenige, was hier aus den Quellen des Lebens gesucht werden soll, verwechselt. Ich will keinen Tadel aussprechen, sondern nur eine symptomatische Erscheinung besprechen. Die Dinge, die hier besprochen werden, sind wahrhaftig nicht so gemeint, wie es derjenige auffaßt, der das ganze tolle Zeug, das in diesem Buche «Apostel Dodenscheidt» abgehandelt ist, irgendwie ernsthaftig nimmt. Gerade das Zusammenbringen unserer Sache mit diesen oder jenen Bestrebungen, das ist es, was unserer Sache am allermeisten schadet! Das ist das Wichtige, daß uns das endlich einmal so recht zur Seele geht, denn derjenige versteht nicht richtig, was hier gesagt sein will, der hier etwas Ähnliches findet wie in dem Buch «Apostel Dodenscheidt». Ich will keine Philippika halten, ich möchte noch einmal sagen, daß ich selbstverständlich den guten Willen anerkennen will. Aber das Symptomatische muß ich doch besprechen, denn was da zum Vorschein gekommen ist, das kommt draußen immer wieder und wiederum zum Vorschein: daß man die Dinge, die hier besprochen werden und die hier vertreten werden, wirklich nicht mit dem nötigen Ernst und mit der nötigen Einsicht nimmt.

The interactions between the members of the human organism

Today I will begin by saying a few things that may in various ways supplement some of what we have discussed over time in the field of our spiritual science. When we recall the most elementary things we know — and we can recall them again and again — we think of human beings as composed of four main members, which we initially regard as the members of the present human being, as he has emerged through the Saturn, Sun, Moon, and Earth evolutions: the physical body, the etheric body, the astral body, and the I. Now, we have often emphasized that listing these four members of human nature and giving them names is, at first, not very helpful and does not say very much; for what matters is that we connect more and more definite, more and more concrete concepts and ideas with what arises in our soul when we speak of these four members of human nature. We speak first of the physical body. We have the feeling that we must know this physical body, or at least that external science must know this physical body, because it deals with it so much. Now we know that this physical human body must be a very, very complicated structure, because it found its first predisposition in such early times, when ancient Saturn unfolded its development. Then it was changed during the Sun period, changed further during the Moon period, and has now already gone through a long, long period of Earth evolution, which has again left its mark on it, so that we must assume that this physical human body has received its character in four long, long periods of time. We must assume a fourfold structure in this physical human body. And if we ask ourselves: What has entered into this physical human body during the Earth's evolution? — then, according to the views that can be developed from ordinary life and ordinary science, we will generally arrive at a false conception. For our physical body has only been transformed, changed, metamorphosed during the Earth's evolution. Much of it was already present not only in its form, but also in its development and formation during the ancient lunar evolution. What was added during the Earth's evolution is not really visible, if one takes “seeing” in the true sense of the word. Actually, only the position changed during the Earth's evolution: we became upright beings walking vertically on the surface of the Earth. The position, the direction has changed, and everything connected with it. This physiognomy, standing upright on the surface of the Earth, was imposed on human beings during the Earth's development. If you remember a very well-known mythological image, the image of the centaur, we can say from a spiritual scientific point of view: This image of the centaur, human and horse, or indeed human and some animal form, is actually meant to represent imaginatively the human physical body as it would appear if one added to its present upright position what the human being was during the lunar evolution, when it did not have this upright position. In such images, in such imaginations preserved by mythology, infinitely deep wisdom is hidden.

I wanted to give this as just one example of the deep wisdom contained in such images. In short, let me say once again: if we want to truly appreciate the human physical body, we must view it as much more complicated than any external science today finds convenient. We must be clear that it is actually only the position of the individual organs, the position of the whole human being during the long course of earthly evolution, that has been imprinted on the human being, and that the human being has, in essence, already undergone a far, far more extensive development before the beginning of the Earth.

We must of course imagine something similar for the higher members of human nature, for the spiritual ones: for the etheric body, for the astral body, and for the I. But now we must also consider the mutual relationships, the mutual connections, the relations between the individual members of human nature. The physical body appears to us at first to be built up out of physical matter, and we see it continually, as long as we are growing, becoming larger ourselves, adding matter, or pushing matter between its limbs, between its smallest parts. Later, when we put on fat, insofar as we do so, we see further how matter is added to the physical body. We see something similar with the etheric body when we look at it in the same way as the physical body. Only in this case it is not matter that accumulates, but movements. These movements become more complicated in the course of life. In a newborn child, we find relatively simple, primitive movements in the etheric body. Gradually they become more complex. But there is a diversification, a building up, in the physical body and in the etheric body.

Things are different for the astral body and for the I. As human beings walking around in the physical world, we are initially active only in our I, for only the I has full consciousness. When you focus your eyes on any colored surface, the I is active; when you think, the I is active; when you feel, the I is active. In all these activities that you perform, even when you walk or move your hands, the I is active. Everything you can do in the waking state on the physical plane is I-activity. The I is there in action. How does this activity of the I manifest itself in relation to the other members of human nature? How does what we accomplish from waking up to falling asleep, that is, in waking consciousness, manifest itself? It does not manifest itself in building up, but in breaking down, in consuming substances of the physical body and movements and forces of the etheric body. When you focus your eyes on a red surface, on a colored surface in general, the colored surface makes an impression on you, and you break down. Even if it is in a very subtle sense, a kind of killing of the living substance, the living matter, occurs in your physical body. Imagine, to use a somewhat crude example, that you have a crystal, but one that is still changeable, that could undergo changes. And some effect, say a light effect, would be exerted: the matter of the crystal would become cloudy, would change. In fact, every time a light effect is exerted on your eye, something in your physical body becomes cloudy, matter is destroyed in your constitution. While we are awake, from the moment we wake up until we fall asleep, we are always destroying our physical matter, albeit in a very subtle way, through our ego activity. That is why we have to compensate for this through sleep. During sleep, the physical matter restores itself to the state we need it to be in. It is always a process of building up and breaking down. Sleeping activity means building up physical matter, namely its constitution; waking activity, ego activity, means breaking it down. And so you have a cycle: building up—breaking down, building up—breaking down. We can say that we are actually constantly being consumed, eaten away by our ego activity, and that we have to restore ourselves in sleep.

That is why we often notice when we wake up that something rises up from our physical organism. These are the restorative forces, the regenerative forces. And if we have something unhealthy in our organism, perhaps even something only slightly unhealthy, it rises up with it. When the organism is healthy, it restores itself in a healthy way when we wake up. If it is sick, it also works up the sickness. That is why some people, including children, are in a bad mood when they wake up; they are not cheerful. This is because the after-effects of what rises up from the organism are still there. Everything that we have to say about human beings and their lives from spiritual science corresponds in a wonderful way to the phenomena of life. Only about an hour and a half after waking up can we say that we are completely free from whatever sick forces may be rising up. This is the interaction between the ego and the physical body. This interaction between the ego and the physical body, this relationship, takes place in the rhythm of sleeping and waking: building up — breaking down, building up — breaking down.

But we also have another relationship that is very important, only we do not notice it in the course of our ordinary lives. Just as the ego and the physical body bring about building and breaking down in their relationships, there is a similar interaction between the astral body and the etheric body. Only that the building up, insofar as it originates from the astral body, is completed earlier in life, and the breaking down begins earlier. For what our astral body breaks down in our etheric body is essentially connected with our weakening in the course of life and, when we have become completely weak, with our dying. The astral body in relation to the etheric body is essentially connected with death. We can die because our astral body gradually consumes the forces of the etheric body, and the etheric body in turn consumes the physical body. So that, in a sense, we can also observe a process of building up and breaking down between the etheric body and the astral body during life, albeit not in such rapid succession, but nevertheless in a certain rhythm. Now let us observe the following: If we exert ourselves too much in our ego activity, it harms us. This is easy to understand because ego activity is a process of destruction. If we destroy too much, we weaken our organism in a very visible way. This weakening of the organism in a very visible way through ego activity is what is very easily noticeable externally. But a weakening of the etheric body can also occur through the astral body. Since the astral body is, in a sense, the consumer of the etheric body, as we have just seen, a kind of excessive consumption can occur. The most common manifestation of this kind occurs when we live in such a way that our astral body, the carrier of passions and emotions, is overtaxed. You know that this causes permanent weakening of the human being. These weaknesses arise precisely through the consumption of the etheric body by the astral body.

But something else can happen here. The way we build up our astral body, gradually, from our birth, or let us say from our conception, in the course of our life, is connected with our karma. Whether we are inclined to develop strong emotions, strong passions in the astral body, is of course connected with our karma. However, these passions can also be significant for humans in a certain sense. Let us take a characteristic that plays a role throughout human life and is nevertheless a passion, albeit the noblest passion, the one that can develop in its noblest form in such a way that it is free from all selfishness: the passion of love. Love is a passion, but it can be free of all selfishness. It is the only passion that can be free of selfishness. But it resides in the astral body, which is its carrier.

Let us assume that an artist who has a real feeling for realities – not a naturalist, for he has no feeling for realities, he sees only abstract naturalistic matter, so-called realities – is given the task of creating a human figure that is completely imbued with the passion of love, the noble passion of love. Whenever an artist was faced with the task of creating a Venus or an Aphrodite, he had to feel that the human form must be completely permeated by this passion of love. Love must have something predominant about it; it must pour itself out. What can be the case here? One cannot say that one can create an ordinary female figure as Aphrodite or Venus. Therefore, the astral body of Aphrodite or Venus cannot be like any other female astral body, for otherwise every woman and every girl would be an Aphrodite or a Venus. That is not the case, is it? So it is a matter of the astral body having to be formed in a very special way. The artist does not need to know spiritual science, does not need to know this, but he must feel, when he forms a Venus, that the astral body must be more developed, more intensely developed than in the case of the non-Aphrodite, the non-Venus. But the astral body, we have said, has something consuming, something truly consuming. I must express this. How will the artist who really feels this, who really has a feeling that there is a consuming astral body, form a Venus? He will make visible that the physical body has something about it that gradually consumes it. Here the spiritual scientist is in a different situation than, say, the modern physician.

Let us assume that an artist creates such a Venus, in the creation of which he has truly felt that there is a more strongly consuming astral body than in an ordinary woman. We will see it in the narrow neck, in the formation of the rib cage, we will also see it in the other limbs, that there is something consuming in the astral body, we will perhaps see it in the form, that she cannot grow particularly old, if the artist expresses the matter physically. When an artist does something like this, the spiritual scientist will say: This artist has sensed what actually lies at the root of reality. From this point of view, we will say to ourselves: Often, in creating, the artist senses a real spiritual reality. What will the physician who is not a spiritual scientist say when he sees that an artist has created such a figure? “That is a consumptive figure,” he will say, because in fact, in someone who has consumption, the astral body is, due to the karma of a previous incarnation, a more intensely burning astral body than in someone who does not have consumption. Botticelli created a very beautiful, admired Venus, which most of you will be familiar with. In this picture of Venus standing on a shell, we see a real physical body, formed by Botticelli in such a way that we must think: a consuming astral body lies beneath it. This has also given rise to a dispute among art scholars. Some admire the figure of this Venus, which deviates from the so-called normal form, with her narrow neck, her remarkable upper chest, and so on; others say that this is only because he had a consumptive model. Certainly, everything can be explained materialistically. Botticelli probably even had a consumptive model: Simonetta, who died at the age of twenty-three. But that is not the point. The point is that he felt compelled to use this particular model for a Venus, as it offered him the opportunity to depict a human being with an astral body that was consuming the physical body more quickly than in other people. And indeed, in this picture in particular — I will pass it around slowly, it is a poor reproduction, but I don't have a better one at the moment — you will see how it is indeed noticeable that we are dealing with a different kind of astral body, with an astral body that consumes the physical body through the etheric body. You see how spiritual science can guide us, how spiritual science can show us the way to understanding such things.

Everywhere you will find that a view that is not sharpened by spiritual science cannot shed light on life anywhere. Everywhere, light is brought into things when we look at them with the help of spiritual science: into outer life as it already is, and into the life of art. However, it is necessary that we then acquire patience in order to view human beings as something much, much more complicated than what outer science deigns to consider them. Human beings are more complicated than that, and the most irresponsible statement often made in the field of worldview is that the best explanation is the simplest one. The best explanation is not the simplest one, but the one that correctly describes the matter. We must be clear about this.

Let me give you another example where you can see how ordinary science cannot cope without the spiritual scientific view. Remember a public lecture I gave over at the Architect's House this winter, where I said that we must first distinguish between two parts of the outer physical body, the human head and the rest of the body. If you look at the skeleton, the head is clearly separated, and the rest of the body forms the remainder. I remarked at the time that—not entirely, but essentially—everything attached to the head is earth formation. Just as the human being came to earth after the lunar evolution, he is still contained only in the head formation. We can say that the head is a much older organ than the rest of the organism. The head is the oldest and most venerable part of the human being. The earth has attached the rest to it — essentially, not entirely, but one must always consider things, I would say, approximately. Again, when we consider the fact that the I passes from incarnation to incarnation, we must also distinguish between the forces that underlie the head and the forces that underlie the rest of the organism. Remember what I said in that public lecture: our head is essentially, in its form, in its shape, the result of our previous incarnation. How we behaved in our previous incarnation, how we conducted ourselves in life, has left its mark on our organism, which is expressed in the next incarnation in our physiognomy, but especially in the shape of our skull. Remember that I once said: Reincarnation, reincarnation, repeated earthly lives—you can feel them with your hands on the skull; for the shape of the skull depends on what we were like in our previous incarnation. How we form the rest of our physiognomy, our posture, whether we are more or less fidgety, whether we make more or less gestures, has an effect on the next incarnation; this is expressed in the next incarnation in the formation of the face, especially in the shape of the skull. You can see from this how disputes can arise over relatively important matters. You know that there are people who consider themselves wise in the field of craniology: they feel the skull and then give a characterization of the person. This may be more or less accurate, sometimes quite accurate, but it can never be completely accurate or exhaustive, because it is really true that each of us already has our own skull, and no two skulls are alike, because our skull is the result of our previous incarnation. The rest of the organism, on the other hand, prepares the skull for the next incarnation. Now, the craniologists and phrenologists argue because they want to generalize where individualization is needed. Everyone has their own skull! Only through intuition can one find anything in the structure of the skull that indicates a person's deeper disposition. But even apart from phrenologists, science itself does not really know what to make of the shape of the human skull. And here I would like to draw attention once again to a point where ordinary natural science needs to be supplemented by spiritual science.

In 1887, the famous anatomist Karl Langer gave a lecture on three truly significant human skulls: the skulls of Schubert, Haydn, and Beethoven. Karl Langer was an anatomist and wanted to examine the three skulls from an anatomical point of view. In that lecture, he emphasized that he could not find any indications of special musical qualities in any of the three skulls, least of all in Beethoven's skull. He emphasized that, from an anatomical and physiological point of view, Beethoven's skull was so ugly that one could have expected anything but that the soul of Beethoven could have been active in this ugly skull. And in Karl Langer we have an external anatomist who took a close look at this particular case, who did not start from fantastical theories but from reality, and who had to admit: there is nothing in the skulls that points to musical qualities. Now we know that Haydn, Schubert, and Beethoven were musicians in the incarnation from which the skull originated. They did not need to have been so in their previous incarnation. And we can well understand that everything that then became clear in the time between death and a new birth could have emerged in Beethoven precisely from a powerful, combative nature. What has been carried over from the previous incarnation is expressed in the formation of the skull. Langer noticed in particular that although there were three musicians, there was nothing communal in the skulls, nothing in terms of characteristics that these three people would have had in common, because presumably all three had had very different experiences in a previous incarnation and only became musicians in the incarnation in which they had the skulls in question. But their musical nature was expressed in their souls, while what they had experienced in their previous incarnation was expressed in the shape of their skulls, in the formation of their skulls.

A dispute then arose about these three skulls. Another anatomist tried to refute Langer. But this dispute did not amount to much, for what does the physical anatomist actually rely on when he investigates such things? He does not want to know anything about a previous incarnation, so he resorts to heredity. And Schaaffhausen, who wanted to refute Karl Langer, remarked: Well, we have inherited the shape of our skulls! “On such an occasion, the question of the actual heredity of the shape of the skull is never investigated. If one did not proceed with the usual logic that is so popular in this field, one would soon realize how unfounded it is to speak of heredity. In truth, we form the shape of our skull according to the results of our previous incarnation. Certainly, other things can intersect with what has happened in the previous incarnation. We grow up in a certain circle. Especially if our feelings, our mind, are connected with personalities in our environment, we will press many things into the finer organization. But essentially, the skull formation is built according to the previous incarnation.

But you know — I have often mentioned this — how ingenious people actually are with the so-called theory of heredity. There is now a very diligently researched, scholarly book — there is really nothing to object to in terms of scholarship in such a case; things are usually researched with tremendous diligence — which traces Goethe's ancestors as far as they can be traced. What is the point of such evidence? The aim is to show that what happened to a person's various ancestors occurs when a genius joins a line of ancestors. People think this is terribly logical. But, as I have often said, this proves no more than that if a person falls into the water and is pulled out, he is wet; for it goes without saying that someone who has passed through the line of inheritance still bears the characteristics of that inheritance. He has sought them out, after all. But if the theory of heredity really were as valid as natural science assumes, this would have to be proven by starting with certain characteristics and then demonstrating them in the descendants. One would therefore have to start with genius and then move on to the descendants. One will probably refrain from doing so. After all, one cannot prove that Goethe's genius was inherited by his son or his grandchildren, since we know them, don't we? In the descendants of other geniuses, such a thing is often not verifiable either. If it can be proven, it is based on something completely different than physical inheritance; it is based on the fact that a soul has a tendency to incarnate into a particular family in order to seek out certain characteristics. Well, we have spoken about this often. You see, this is an example of how ordinary science must be supplemented by spiritual science. At every turn, what ordinary science offers us and what ordinary life offers us must first be illuminated by spiritual scientific insights. People today have no idea how wonderfully the mysteries of the world's becoming affect the soul when viewed in a spiritual scientific sense.

Remember that I have often spoken of the fourth post-Atlantean period, the Greek-Latin period, and our present fifth period, and I have indicated some of the differences between the human beings of the fourth post-Atlantean period, the Greek-Latin period, and the human beings of the present period. People today look at Greek works of art. They admire how finely crafted these Greek works of art are, especially the sculptures, how things are seen that people today do not see so readily. Those who think in a crudely materialistic way say: The Greeks simply saw better; they also saw the human body in their games; and one is not averse to imitating these games. Well, those who imitate Greek games today will certainly not become Greeks, you can be sure of that; but the outward appearances are often imitated. I have already emphasized that the Greeks imitated in a different way than modern Europeans. This is because the Greeks still had something inside them. We know that the Greeks had developed the intellectual or emotional soul; in us, the ego is directed outward, but the intellectual or emotional soul is directed inward, grasping more the inner balance and inner mobility of the body. Man is even more inward-looking than the Greeks, than modern man. The Greek therefore did not work with the model in the same way as the modern artist. When he had to form an arm, he felt the shape of the muscle within himself, he felt the form within himself, he felt what it was like when he had to form a movement, when he himself made the movement. Yes, the Greek could do even more, because he was still inside himself. You know that in the Egyptian-Chaldean period, the sentient soul was developed, and in the Greek-Latin period, the intellectual or emotional soul. But it is still inside us. Only the I emerges and sees the outside world. When the Greek looked at a bird, he could feel in his own arm movement, when he imitated the bird's flight, how he had to shape the wings, whereas modern man needs a model, attaches himself to a bird somewhere and then copies or imitates it. This inner experience has rightly been lost to modern humanity. But we must know this and appreciate it: modern man does not have this inner plastic understanding that the Greeks had. We must understand that when the Greeks recreated a human being in motion in sculpture, they knew from inner knowledge, not from outward observation of a model, how to position the leg, the toe, the fingers, how to arrange everything. Modern man cannot really paint a bird in flight. In modern pictures, birds hover, they do not fly.

That this is so is quite correct; one only has to understand it. One must not place the same demands on modern man as were placed on the Greeks. This inner feeling had to be dampened so that man could direct his ego outward. One must not view human evolution as modern materialistic Darwinists do, starting from the imperfect and working up to the perfect human being. Instead, one must also consider the spiritual evolution, which descends from the spiritual world, where it is perfect, to the human being, who increasingly adapts to the physical organism. We have two currents of development, not just one. Therefore, we can say that we have been able to take in something in the modern view that was not the case in the earlier view. We know that the earlier view should not be carried over into the later view, but that it is sometimes carried over in the natural course of things.

I would like to draw your attention to something. Take a look at any illustrated magazine, such as the “Tag” or the “Woche” or something similar, and look at a snapshot of people walking down the street. Snapshots show immediate external reality; they show people as they are — and most of the time it is not beautiful! If you take a snapshot of a bird, it looks completely different from how a painter would paint it today. But the strange thing is: if you look at Japanese birds, they are similar in their drawing to the snapshots. That is one thing. There is a certain similarity between Japanese drawings of birds in flight and snapshots of birds. And it is even similar with drawings of people, because the Japanese — but one must limit oneself to observing the act of drawing — are much more likely to draw what the snapshot shows. This stems from the fact that the Japanese view of the fourth post-Atlantean period has been preserved into the present day. We can no longer see as the Japanese see. Today, the Japanese see, not with the same sense of beauty as the Greeks, but in many ways more correctly in the Greek sense than Europeans who have advanced into the fifth post-Atlantean cultural epoch. These things can only be explained if we look at them again through the lens of spiritual science. And if we compare Asian art with European art, we will find the difference between the fourth post-Atlantean period, which has been preserved there, and our fifth post-Atlantean period.

You see everywhere the necessity of bringing spiritual science into things. But today, in relation to our outer culture, we are far removed from this understanding of bringing spiritual science into outer knowledge. This is not really due to the fact that it is particularly difficult to acquire a spiritual scientific view; people simply resist it. What is described in the book “How to Know Higher Worlds” can be attained relatively easily. It is possible to achieve this, but people resist it. I do not mean you, of course, but the outer culture resists it. It resists it mainly because this outer culture today does not want to create the basic conditions for developing a thinking conscience, a conscientiousness of thinking, a logical conscience. And this brings us to a truly existing cultural disease of our time, which scholars of the humanities must take into account because it confronts them everywhere: the lack of logical, intellectual conscience. One can make the strangest discoveries here. We have already given examples of this; let us take another example today.

There was a man—he still exists—who wanted to prove philosophically that ideals are not real, not essential. He simply wanted to do justice to the modern view of time, which accepts ideals as necessary, but does not regard them as really existing, as something external, physically perceptible. But on the other hand, the man in question was a philosopher and would have very little to do if he did not accept ideals; after all, the other sciences deal with the physical, and as a philosopher one must have something to do, must one not? But now: ideals are not essential, yet we want to accept them, so he says: they are simply fictions, we must accept them as necessary fictions, as necessary assumptions. The philosopher in question then developed this idea further into a whole philosophy, the philosophy of “as if.” I have spoken of this before. According to this philosophy, one says: it is not necessary to assume that there is an atom, but we regard the world as if there were an atom; it is not necessary to assume that there is a soul, but we regard the world as if there were a soul. So, a whole philosophy of “as if”! This man used a comparison to make his readers understand that one can still hold on to ideals even if one does not regard them as something essential, and this comparison is characteristic of the logical conscience of this philosopher. He said: Let us look at a child playing with a doll, even though it knows that the doll has no real life in itself. Why, then, should we reject ideals, since children do not reject dolls? Even though the doll is not alive, they treat it as if it were. Why should we not treat ideals in the same way, even though we know that they are not real? —

So we already have the view that ideals are not essential, but humans can still use them in life by treating them in the same way as the little girl treats the doll, which is also not a living thing but is treated as if it were. We are dealing with a philosopher who compares ideals to dolls! Well, let us try to come to terms with this comparison, with this image. First, the little girl plays with the doll, but she plays on the assumption that the doll at least represents a living being. She would hardly play with the doll if she did not see in it something that represents a living being. That is the prerequisite. So it is hardly possible to compare the doll with the ideal if we do not assume that the ideal represents something, is it? That is the first piece of nonsense he says, that he uses this comparison at all. The second is: we want to organize our lives according to ideals as if they existed. Yes, will anything come of it? Of course, as much as comes out when a child plays with a doll, because that is the comparison he is using. So it is merely an imitation of life! Here we are not only dealing with a completely foolish comparison, but we are also dealing with a second error, a second piece of foolishness on the part of this man. The comparison must be wrong because the doll comparison does not work at all: the doll at least imitates life—ideals are not supposed to imitate anything. But if they were, they would only be an imitation of life, not life itself. So we are dealing with a double absurdity. We have before us a philosopher who commits not only a simple absurdity, but a double absurdity. We could find many, many such double absurdities in science and in life. In particular, these double absurdities are often found in so-called worldly wisdom, in philosophy. When such thinking exists, when thinking follows such crooked paths, then this thinking cannot discipline itself so that it forms only valid comparisons, develops only a feeling for valid comparisons, and then there is no foundation for spiritual insight. For spiritual insight can only develop if thinking is first of all healthy.

That is why I ask you very much, especially in the new book that will appear in a few months, “The Mystery of Man,” to pay attention to what is said there about the concept of the real. We must develop the concept of the real, not just the concept of the logical. When I have a crystal in front of me and look at it as a crystal, it is a self-contained reality. The crystal tells me the truth about itself when I look at it as a crystal. But take a tree trunk whose branches have been cut off, whose roots have been cut off! Does it also tell me the truth about itself? No, it lies to me, as it is there in its sensuality, because it cannot be that way! This tree trunk could not exist if it had not developed in connection with roots, branches, and leaves; these are also part of the cut tree trunk, and I only have the truth when I imagine the whole tree. I have cut something out of the sensual world. But what I have cut out is not reality. Realistic thinking must everywhere develop a feeling for what must be included in the idea. Only when one has a feeling that a leaf is not real because it can only be thought of in connection with a plant—it is something else whether I find a leaf or whether I find a crystal—only when I develop this sense of reality am I prepared to ascend to spiritual realities in the right way. Many things may be logical, but reality is something else! It is a matter of developing a sense of reality. It is very easy to make mistakes with regard to this sense of reality. When I look at a picture that has been created by cutting a single figure out of a whole, that is not something real, because I have to look at the whole picture. If someone then says, “Yes, but then you must have an overview of the entire history of art, because this picture is the result of earlier pictures painted by the same painter and other painters,” that would be nonsense. One must develop this sense of reality, that there are realities that are complete in themselves. Otherwise, only the entire universe would be “real.” I would ask you to pay particular attention to this in the book that will be published shortly: “The Mystery of Man.”

Now that I have, so to speak, exhausted the subject of today's discussion, that is, without detracting from the actual discussion, I would like to say something beyond it, not to say anything detrimental or bad, but to say something that is somewhat suitable for shedding light on the way in which our entire movement must be understood. One can only really introduce this spiritual science into contemporary culture if there are a number of people who have the good will to approach this spiritual science with the right feelings and sensibilities. I am always reluctant to make such observations, but they must be made. You see, I am trying in every possible way to show how, in our present time, the tendency, the impulse, is indeed toward spiritual science. To this end, I have mentioned to you the two books by Hermann Bahr, Expressionism and Ascension, because here we are dealing with a man who, despite having written so many plays and novels, began at the age of fifty to develop a longing for spiritual science and also for Goethe, who is so closely connected with the impulses of spiritual science. And I tried to show how this Hermann Bahr, out of good will, finally began at the age of fifty—as he himself admits—to read Goethe, and how he began to find his way, “groping,” as I said, into the spiritual sciences, so that he is now at the very beginning. Books such as Expressionism by Hermann Bahr and the other, Himmelfahrt (Ascension), are truly extraordinary because they show us how spiritual science is — forgive the trivial expression — a question of time. But we can only make progress in this field if we take things seriously and thoroughly, if we also take them with the proper reverence for spiritual science, if we know, so to speak, that it is a fundamental impulse that is being sought in our present cultural development. It is always detrimental to our cause when things are taken superficially, when things are taken in such a way that what is being attempted here with thoroughness — and this can certainly be said without being immodest — is confused with all kinds of charlatanism, foolishness, and fantasy in our time. Nothing harms our cause as much as when it is confused with all kinds of fantastical, dilettantish nonsense. We have been working together for a long time now, and this seriousness toward the matter and this ability to distinguish between other things that have some similarities must gradually develop. After all, a mutt also has some similarities to a lion: they both have four legs! Ultimately, everything has similarities to everything else! But what must be taken into account above all else is the seriousness of the endeavor, the seriousness of the work. Now really, consider it this way: I naturally recognize the extraordinarily good will that underlies the case I am discussing here—I am grateful for the good will—but I am nevertheless compelled to discuss the symptomatic aspects.

So, after I have discussed in the two reflections how Hermann Bahr, as it were, paints a portrait of himself in his “Franz,” how he goes through life in the most diverse ways, how he then comes to a kind of mysticism—in other words, a serious matter that is a reflection of an entire human life— a few days ago I received a book from one of those who had listened to this, Apostel Dodenscheidt by Margarethe Böhme, with the comment: Just like Franz in Hermann Bahr's novel, the apostle Dodenscheidt had also gone through all kinds of developments and had finally come to believe in reincarnation and karma. Well, the book that was sent to me is a roman à clef of the worst kind. One only has to remember certain things here in Berlin and the surrounding area: there was once a Josua Klein and similar people; in this novel there is a Gottfried Groß and so on. And nothing worse could happen than for the two things referred to here and the things underlying this roman à clef, which is moreover a book of inferior literary merit, a bad book in literary and artistic terms, to be mentioned in the same breath! But there is a tendency to mention things in the same breath when something like this can happen, when things are thrown together. It is certainly no sin that this happened in this particular case—it was sent to me, after all. But it does show what associations of ideas are formed, with what things one confuses that which is to be sought here from the sources of life. I do not wish to express any reproach, but only to discuss a symptomatic phenomenon. The things discussed here are truly not meant in the way they are understood by those who take all the crazy stuff in this book “Apostel Dodenscheidt” seriously. It is precisely the association of our cause with these or those endeavors that is most damaging to our cause! It is important that we finally understand this in our hearts, because those who find something similar here to what is written in the book “Apostle Dodenscheidt” do not understand what is meant here. I do not want to make a tirade, I would like to say once again that I naturally want to acknowledge the good will. But I must discuss what is symptomatic, because what has come to light here comes up again and again outside: that the things that are discussed and represented here are really not taken with the necessary seriousness and insight.