Materialism and the Task of Anthroposophy
GA 204
3 April 1921, Dornach
Lecture II
Before I begin, let me emphasize that this lecture does not form part of the sequence of lectures presented in the context of the courses,1Reference to lectures of the Second Course of the School for Spiritual Science. but in a certain respect is intended to relate to what I have outlined yesterday evening. There, we dealt with studying that particular form of development within humanity's historical evolution that occurred in the middle and also in the second half of the nineteenth century; the evolutionary impulse of materialism. I said that in these considerations our attention should not be turned so much to materialism in general, which calls for other viewpoints, but rather to theoretical materialism, to materialism as a world view. I drew attention to the fact that this materialism must be confronted with a sufficiently critical mind, but that, on the other hand, materialism has been a necessary phase of evolution in the history of mankind.
We cannot simply speak of rejecting it and say that it is an aberration; materialism needs to be understood. For the one does not exclude the other. Particularly in these reflections it is important to extend the sphere of thoughts relating to truth and error further than is ordinarily the case. It is generally said that in the logical life of thoughts it is possible either to err or to find the truth. What is not mentioned is that under certain circumstances the glance we cast upon the external world may discover errors in outer reality. Difficult though it may be for modern thought to admit to errors in the events of nature—something that spiritual science has to do—it is obvious for people today to admit that there are actual errors in the results that arise in the course of the historical development and manifest themselves, so to speak, in the communal, social sphere. These errors cannot be corrected by mere logic, but demand comprehension based on the conditions that gave rise to them.
In thinking, all we have to do is reject error. We have to extricate ourselves from error and, overcoming it, reach truth. But in the case of errors rooted in the factual realm we must always say that they also have a positive aspect and are of value in a certain sense for the development of mankind. Theoretical materialism of the nineteenth century should therefore not merely be condemned in a narrow, one-sided manner; instead, we should grasp its significance in human evolution.
Theoretical materialism consisted in the fact—and what remained of it still consists in this—that man devotes himself to a conscientious and exact investigation of the external material facts, that in a certain sense he loses himself in this world of facts. Then, proceeding from this investigation of facts, he attains to a view of life that tends to the conclusion that there is no other reality except the world of facts, and that everything pertaining to soul and spirit is, after all, merely a product of the material course of events. Even a conception of life such as this was necessary during a certain epoch of time, and the only danger would be a rigid adherence to it so that it could influence the further development of humanity in an age when other contents have to enter human consciousness.
Let us try today and investigate the actual basis of this evolutionary impulse leading to theoretical materialism. We come to it when, from a certain standpoint, we picture once more the threefold nature of the human organism.2The threefold human organism was first mentioned by Rudolf Steiner in Von Seelenraetseln, GA 21. (The Case for Anthroposophy) I have characterized it on many occasions. I have said: We must distinguish within the whole organization of the human being the part that, in regard to his physical being, may be designated as the organization of the senses and nerves. This is chiefly concentrated in the human head, but in a certain sense it extends over the whole human organism, also penetrating the other parts of it. As a second member we have the rhythmical organization. We encounter it chiefly in the rhythm of breathing and in the circulation of the blood. The third part in a wider sense is the metabolic organization of the human being, including the whole system of the human limbs. The human limb system is a system of movement, and every form of movement is basically an expression of our metabolic processes. One day, when people will investigate more closely what really takes place in the metabolic processes whenever the human being moves, they will discover the intimate connection between the limb system and the metabolic system.
In considering these three systems in the human being, we have, first of all, pointed out the fundamental difference between them. I have already drawn your attention yesterday to the fact that, by means of the same drawing, two men with entirely different world views wanted to clarify matters relating to the human head organization as well as to the processes of human thinking. I pointed out that it so happened that I was once present at a lecture given by an extreme materialist. He wished to describe the life of the soul, but he actually described the human brain, the individual sections of the brain, the connecting fibers, and so on. He arrived at a certain picture, but this picture he drew on the blackboard was, for him, only the expression of what goes on materially and physically in the human brain. At the same time, he saw in it the expression of soul life, particularly the conceptual life. Another man, a philosopher of the school of Herbart, spoke of thoughts, of associations of thoughts, of the effect one thought has upon another, etc., and he said he could make use of the same picture on the blackboard. Here, quite empirically, I should say, we encounter something most interesting. It is this that somebody for whom the observation of the soul life is something quite real, at least in his thoughts—this must always be added in case of Herbartianism—clarifies to himself the activity of the soul life by using the same picture employed by the other lecturer, who depicts the soul life by trying to set forth only the processes in the human brain.
Now, what lies at the foundation of this? The fact is that in its plastic configuration the human brain is indeed an extraordinarily faithful replica of what we know as the life of thought. In the plastic configuration of the human brain, the life of thought really does express itself, we might almost say, in an adequate manner. In order to follow this thought to its conclusion, however, something else is needed. What ordinary psychology and also Herbart's psychology designate as chains of thoughts, as thought associations in the form of judgments, logical conclusions and so on, should not remain a mere idea. At least in our imagination—even if we cannot rise to clairvoyant Imaginations—we should allow it to culminate in a picture; the tapestry of logic, the tapestry presented to us by psychology of the life of thought, the teaching of the soul life, should be allowed to culminate in a picture. If we are in fact able to transform logic and psychology in a picture-like, plastic way into an image, then the human configuration of the brain will emerge. Then we shall have traced a picture, the realization of which is the human brain.
On what is this based? It is based on the fact that the human brain, indeed the whole system of nerves and senses, is a replica of an Imaginative element.3Concerning Imagination, Inspiration, and Intuition, three forms of higher perception, see Rudolf Steiner, An Outline of Occult Science, chapter: “Knowledge of Higher Worlds”; Anthroposophic Press, Spring Valley, NY, 1972. We completely grasp the wonderful structure of the human brain only when we learn to investigate Imaginatively. Then, the human brain appears as a realized human Imagination. Imaginative perception teaches us to become familiar with the external brain, the brain we come to know through psychology and anatomy, as a realized Imagination. This is significant.
Another fact is no less important. Let us bear in mind that the human brain is an actual human Imagination. We are indeed born with a brain, if not a fully developed one, at least with a brain containing the tendencies of growth. It tries to develop to the point of being a realized Imaginative world, to be the impression of an Imaginative world. This is, as it were, the ready-made aspect of our brain, namely, that it is the replica of an Imaginative world. Into this impression of the Imaginative world we then build the conceptual experiences attained during the time between birth and death. During this period we have conceptual experiences; we conceive, we transform the sense perceptions into thoughts; we judge, we conclude, and so on. We fit this into our brain. What kind of activity is this?
As long as we live in immediate perception, as long as we remain in the interplay with the external world, as long as we open our eyes to the colors and dwell in this relationship with colors, as long as we open our organs of hearing to sounds and live within them, the external world lives on in us by penetrating our organism through the senses as through channels. With our inner life, we encompass this external world. But the moment we cease to have this immediate experience of the outer world—something I already called your attention to yesterday—the moment we turn our eye away from the world of colors, allow our ear to become inattentive to the resounding of the external world, the moment we turn our senses to something else, this concreteness—our interplay with the external world in perceiving—penetrates into the depths of our soul. It may then be drawn to the surface again in the form of pictures by memory. We may say that during our life between birth and death insofar as our thought life is concerned, our interplay with the external world consists of two parts: the immediate experience of the external world in the form of perceptions and the transformed thoughts. We surrender, as it were, completely to the present; our inner activity loses itself in the present. Then, however, this immediate activity continues. To begin with, it is not accessible to our consciousness. It sinks down into the subconscious but may be drawn to the surface again into memory. In what form, then, does it exist in us?
This is a point that can be explained only by a direct view attainable in Imagination. A person who honestly pursues his way in his scientific striving cannot help but admit to himself that the moment the riddle of memory confronts him he cannot advance another step in his research. For due to the fact that the experiences of the immediate present sink down into the subconscious, they become inaccessible to ordinary consciousness; they cannot be traced further.
But when we work in a corresponding way upon the human soul by means of the soul-spiritual exercises that have frequently been discussed in my lectures, we reach a stage where we no longer lose sight of the continuations of our direct life of perceptions and thoughts into conceptions that make memories possible. I have often explained to you that the first result of an ascent to Imaginative thinking is to have before your soul, as a mighty life-tableau, all your experiences since birth. The stream of experience normally flows along in the unconscious, and the single representations, which emerge in memory, rise up from this unconscious or subconscious stream through a half-dreamy activity. Those who have developed Imaginative perception are offered the opportunity to survey the stream of experiences as in one picture. You could say that the time that has elapsed since birth then takes on the appearance of space. What is normally within the subconscious is then beheld in the form of interconnected pictures. When the experiences that otherwise escape into the subconscious are thus raised to direct vision, we are able to observe this continuation of present, immediate perceptual and thought experiences all the way into conceptions that can be remembered. It is possible to trace what happens in us to any sort of experience we have in our mind, from the point in time when we first lose sight of it until the moment we recall it again. After all, between experiencing something and remembering it again something is taking place continuously in the human organism, something that becomes visible to imaginative perception. It is possible to view it in Imaginations, but it is now revealed in a quite special way.
The thoughts that have lost themselves, as it were, in the subconscious region an activity connected with our life-impulses, our impulses of growth; they stimulate an activity in us that is related to our impulse of death. The significant result revealing itself to Imaginative perception in the way I could only allude to today is the following: Human beings do not connect the memory-activity, leading to the renewal of thinking, of thought and perceptual experiences, with what calls us into physical life and maintains digestion in this life, so that substances that have become useless are replaced by usable ones, and so on. The power of memory that descends into the human being is not related to this ascending life system in man. It is linked to something we also bear within us ever since our birth, something we are born with just as we are born with the forces through which we live and grow. It is connected with what then appears to us, concentrated into one moment, in regard to the whole organism in dying.
Death only appears as a great riddle as long as it is not observed within the continuous stream of life from birth to death. Expressing myself paradoxically, I might say that we die not only when we die. In reality, we die at every moment of our physical life. By developing within our organism the activity leading to memory as recollective thinking—and in ordinary physical life every form of cognition is actually linked up with memory—insofar as this cognition is developed, we die continuously. A subtle form of death, proceeding from our head organization, is forever going on within us. By carrying out this activity that continues on into memory, we constantly begin the act of dying. But the forces of growth existing in the other members of the human organism counteract this process of death; they overcome the death forces. Thus we maintain life. If we only depended on our head organization, on the system of nerves and senses, each moment in life would really become a moment of death for us. As human beings we continuously vanquish death, which streams out, as it were, from our head to the remaining organism. The latter counteracts this form of death. Only when the remaining organization becomes weakened, exhausted through age or some kind of damage, thus preventing the counteraction against the death-bearing forces of the human head, only then does death set in for the whole organism.
Indeed, in our modern thinking, in the thinking of today's civilization, we really work with concepts that lie side by side like erratic blocks, without being able to correctly recognize their interrelationship. Light must enter into this chaos of erratic blocks constituting our world of concepts and thoughts. On the one hand, we have human cognition which is so intimately tied to the faculty of memory. We observe this human cognition and have no idea of its kinship to our conception of death. And because we are completely ignorant of this relationship, what could otherwise be deciphered in life remains so enigmatic. We are unable to connect the experiences of everyday life with the great extraordinary moments of experience. The insufficient spiritual view over what lies around as fragmentary blocks in our conceptual world brings it about that despite the splendid achievements of the nineteenth century life has gradually become so obscure.
Let us now consider the second system, the second member of the human organization, the rhythmical organization. It is also present in the human head organization. The interior of the human head breathes together with the breathing organism. This is an external physiological fact. But the breathing process of the human head lies, as it were, more within; it conceals itself from the system of nerves and senses. It is covered over by what constitutes the chief task of the head organization. Still, the human head has its own concealed rhythmical activity. This activity becomes evident mainly in the human chest organization, in those processes of the human organism that are centered in the organs of breathing and in the heart.
When we observe the outward appearance of this organization, unlike in the case of the head organization, we cannot see in it a kind of plastic image for what exists as its counterpart in the soul, namely, the life of feeling. When we observe the soul experiences, our feelings manifest as something more or less undefined. We have sharp contours in our thoughts. We also have clear concepts of thought associations. In the details pertaining to our life of feeling we have no such sharp outlines. There, everything interpenetrates, moves and lives. You will not find an Herbartian who, in making an outline of the life of emotion, would characterize this in a sketch that might resemble one drawn by an anatomist or a physiologist for the lungs or the heart and circulatory system. Here, you find that such a relationship does not exist between the inner soul element and the outer aspects. This is also the reason why Imaginative cognition does not suffice to bring before the soul this relationship between the soul's life of feeling and the rhythmical system. For this we need what I have characterized in my books as Inspiration, Inspirative perception. This special form of perception through Inspiration attains to the insight that our emotional life has a direct link to the rhythmical system. Just as the system of nerves and senses is linked to the conceptual life, so the rhythmical life is linked to the life of feelings.
But, metaphorically speaking, the rhythmical system is not the wax impression of the emotional life in the same way that the brain's configuration is the wax impression of the conceptual life. Consequently we cannot say that our rhythmical system is an Imaginative replica of our life of feeling. We must say instead that what unfolds and lives in us as the rhythmical system has come about through cosmic Inspiration, independently of any human knowledge. It is inspired into us. The activity carried out in the breathing and in the blood circulation is not merely something that lives within us enclosed by our skin; it is a cosmic event, like lightning and thunder. After all, through our rhythmical system, we are connected with the outer world. The air that is now within me was outside before; it will be outside again the next moment. It is an illusion to believe that we only live enclosed within our skin. We live as a member of the world that surrounds us, and the form of our rhythmical system, which is closely connected to our movements, is inspired into us out of this world.
Summing this up, we can say: As the basis of the human head we have, first of all, the realization of an Imaginative world. Then, in a manner of speaking, below what thus realizes itself as an Imaginative world, we have the realm of the rhythmical system, an Inspired world. Concerning our rhythmical system, we can only say: An Inspirative world is realized within it.
How do matters stand in regard to our metabolic system, our limb-system? Metabolism belongs together with the limb-system, as I have pointed out already. Our metabolic processes stand in a direct relationship with our volitional activity. But this relationship reveals itself neither to Imaginative nor to Inspirative perception. It discloses itself only to Intuitive cognition, to what I have described in my books as “Intuitive knowledge.” This explains the difficulty of seeing in the external physical processes of metabolism the realization of a cosmic Intuition. This metabolism, however, is also present in the rhythmical system. The metabolism of the rhythmical system conceals itself behind the life-rhythm, just as the life-rhythm conceals itself behind the activity of nerves and senses in the human head.
In the case of the human head we have a realized Imaginative world; hidden behind it a realized Inspirative world in regard to the rhythm in the head. Still further behind this, there is the metabolism of the head, hence a realized Intuitive element. Thus we can comprehend our head, if we [see] in it the confluence of the realized Imaginative, Inspired, and Intuitive elements. In the human rhythmical system the Imaginative is omitted; there we have only the realization of the Inspired and Intuitive elements. And in the metabolic system Inspiration, too, is omitted; there, we are dealing only with the realization of a cosmic Intuition.
In the threefold human organism, we thus bear within us first the organization of the head, a replica of what we strive for in cognition through Imagination, Inspiration, and Intuition. In trying to understand the human head, we should really have to admit to ourselves that with mere external, objective knowledge gained through the observation of the outer sensory world, which is not even Imagination and does not rise up to the Intuitive element, we should stop short of the human head. For the inner being of the human head begins to disclose itself only to Imaginative knowledge; behind this lies something still deeper that reveals itself to Inspiration. In turn, behind this, lies something that makes itself known to Intuitive knowledge. The rhythmical system is not even accessible to Imagination. It reveals itself only to Inspirative cognition, and what is concealed beneath it is the Intuitive element. Within the human organism, we certainly ought to find metabolism incomprehensible. The true standpoint in regard to the human metabolism can be none other than the following. We can only say that we observe the metabolic processes of the external world; we try to penetrate into them with the aid of the laws of objective perception. Thus we attain knowledge of the external metabolism in nature. The instant this outer metabolism is transformed and metamorphosed into out inner metabolism it becomes something quite different; it turns into something in which dwells the element that discloses itself only to Intuition.
We would therefore have to say: In the world that presents itself to us as the sensory realm, the most incomprehensible of all incomprehensible problems is what the substances, with which we become familiar externally through physics and chemistry, accomplish within the human skin. We would have to admit: we must rise up to the highest spiritual comprehension if we want to know what really takes place within the human organism in regard to the substances we know so well in their external aspects in the world outside.
Thus we see that in the structure of our organism there are, to begin with, three different activities. First of all, something that discloses itself to Intuitive knowledge is active in the structure of the human organism, building it up out of the world's substances. In addition something is active in this organism that reveals itself to Inspirative knowledge; it fits the rhythmical system into the metabolic organism. Finally, something is active in the human organism that reveals itself to Imaginative knowledge; it builds in the nervous system. And when this human organism enters through birth into the external physical world, all that is ready-made, as it were, by virtue of its own nature, then evolves further inasmuch as human beings develop objective knowledge between birth and death.
Concerning this objective knowledge we have seen that it is tied to the activity of memory; it is not connected with constructive but with destructive forces. We have seen that this form of knowledge is a slow dying proceeding from the head. We may therefore say that the human organism was built up through what could be comprehended by means of Intuition, Inspiration, and Imagination. This dwells in this human organism in a manner inaccessible to present-day cognition. On the other hand, what is built into our organism between birth and death by means of our objective insights breaks down and destroys this organism. We actually think and form concepts on the basis of this destruction when we unfold our conceptual life, the life of thoughts.
We really cannot be materialists when we comprehend what this knowledge, so intimately linked with the faculty of memory consists of. For if we wanted to be materialists, we would have to imagine that we are built up by forces of growth; that those forces are active that absorb the substances and transmit them to the various organs in order to bring about, in a wider sense, the digestive processes within our organism. We should have to picture this faculty, inherent in growth, digestion, and the constructive forces in general, continuing and culminating somewhere in the conceptual process, in thinking which arrives at objective knowledge. Yet this is not the case. The human organism is built up through something that is accessible to Intuition, to Inspiration, and to Imagination. Our organism is built up when it has absorbed these forces into itself. But then regression begins, the process of decay, and what brings this decay about is ordinary knowledge between birth and death.
Through the processes of ordinary perception we do not build anything into the constructive forces; rather, by destroying what has been built up, we create, first of all, the foundations for a continuous element of death in ourselves. Into this continuing element of death we place our knowledge. We do not immerse ourselves in material elements when we think; no, we destroy the material element. We hand it over to the forces of death. We think our way into death, into the destruction of life. Thinking, ordinary perception, is not related to growing, budding life. It is related to death, and when we observe human perception, we do not find an analogy for it in the natural formations including the human brain. We discover an analogy only in the corpse that decays after death. For what the decaying body represents, I might say, intensively, in a certain greatness, must continuously take place within us when we perceive objectively in the ordinary sense of the word.
Look upon death if you wish to comprehend the cognitive process. Do not look upon life in a materialistic manner; look upon what represents the negation, the elimination of life. Then you arrive at a comprehension of thinking. To be sure, what we call death then acquires an entirely different meaning; based on life it attains to a different significance.
Even external phenomena enable us to grasp such things. Yesterday, I said to you that the culmination of the materialistic world view lies in the middle or in the last third of the nineteenth century. This culmination viewed death as something that must absolutely be rejected. In a sense people at that time felt noble by viewing death in this way, as ending life. Life alone they wanted to consider and wished to see it as ending with death. Frequently, one looks back somewhat disdainfully upon the “child-like folk-consciousness.” Take the word “verwesen,” (to decompose) which points to the process of what occurs after death. The prefix “ver” always indicates a movement towards what the word expresses. “Verbruedern” (to become like brothers, to fraternize) means to move in the direction of becoming brothers; “versammeln” (to gather together) indicates moving in the direction of gathering, of meeting. In the vernacular, “verwesen” does not mean decomposing, ceasing to be; it means moving in the direction of Wesen, of being, of life. Such word formations, connected with a spiritual way of grasping the world during the epoch of instinctive knowledge, have become exceedingly rare. In the nineteenth century people materialized everything; they no longer lived in the spiritual essence permeating the word. Many examples could be cited to show that the culmination of materialism became evident even in speech.
We can therefore understand that after the human being had been developed, as I said yesterday, to a point of culmination by forces that disclose themselves to Inspiration, Intuition, and Imagination, he then attained to the highest culmination in the nineteenth century, followed in turn by a decadence. We can understand that the human being distanced himself, as it were, from the power enabling him to comprehend himself inwardly by developing in the strongest measure the forces that, as conceptual forces, are most akin to death, the forces of abstraction. It is from this point that it is possible, proceeding from today's lecture, to advance to what constitutes the actual, essential impulse within what we may call the materialistic impulse of knowledge in human history.
Zweiter Vortrag
[ 1 ] Ich bemerke zuvor ausdrücklich, daß dieser heutige Vortrag nicht in die Reihe der Kursusveranstaltungen gehört, sondern in einer gewissen Beziehung sich anschließen soll an das, was ich gestern Abend ausgeführt habe. Es hat sich gestern darum gehandelt, hinzublicken auf jene besondere Entwickelungsgestaltung des geschichtlichen Menschheitswerdens, die in die Mitte und noch in die zweite Hälfte des 19. Jahrhunderts fällt, auf den Entwickelungsimpuls des Materialismus. Ich habe gesagt, daß unser Augenmerk gerichtet sein soll bei diesen Betrachtungen nicht so sehr auf den Materialismus im allgemeinen, der ja wieder andere Gesichtspunkte erfordert, als vielmehr im besonderen auf den theoretischen Materialismus, auf den Materialismus als Weltanschauung. Und ich habe darauf aufmerksam gemacht, daß es ja notwendig ist, in einer hinreichenden Kritik diesem Materialismus gegenüberzutreten, daß aber auf der anderen Seite dieser Materialismus eine notwendige Entwickelungsphase der Menschheitsgeschichte war, daß wir nicht etwa bloß davon sprechen dürfen, daß dieser Materialismus abzuweisen sei, daß er eine menschliche Verirrung sei, sondern daß dieser Materialismus verstanden sein will. Die beiden Dinge schließen sich nämlich durchaus nicht aus. Und es ist gerade bei einer solchen Betrachtung wichtig, das Gebiet jener Vorstellungen, die sich auf Wahrheit und Irrtum beziehen, weiter auszudehnen, als das gewöhnlich geschieht. Man spricht ja gewöhnlich darüber, daß man sich im logischen Gedankenleben irren kann, oder daß man die Wahrheit findet. Aber man spricht nicht davon, daß unter Umständen auch der auf die äußere Welt fallende Blick in der äußeren Wirklichkeit Irrtümer vorfinden kann. Und so schwer es für das heutige Vorstellen auch noch sein wird, im Naturgeschehen Irrtümer anzuerkennen - was aber auch durch die Geisteswissenschaft geschehen will -, so liegt es doch dem heutigen Menschen schon nahe, in dem, was heraufkommt im Laufe des geschichtlichen Werdens, was gewissermaßen im gemeinsamen, im sozialen Leben der Menschheit sich auswirkt, reale Irrtümer anzuerkennen, Irrtümer, die nicht bloß logisch korrigiert sein wollen, sondern die aus ihren Entstehungsbedingungen heraus begriffen sein wollen.
[ 2 ] Im Denken hat man ja den Irrtum einzig und allein abzuweisen. Man hat aus dem Irrtum herauszukommen und durch die Überwindung des Irrtums zur Wahrheit zu gelangen. Wenn es sich aber um Irrtümer handelt, die im Tatsächlichen wurzeln, dann muß man immer sagen, daß diese Irrtümer auch ihre positive Seite haben, daß sie in einer gewissen Weise durchaus für die Menschheitsentwickelung ihren Wert haben. Und so darf auch nicht bloß in einseitig philiströser Weise der theoretische Materialismus des 19. Jahrhunderts verdammt werden, sondern er muß in seiner Bedeutung für die ganze Menschheitsentwickelung begriffen werden. Er bestand ja darin - und was von ihm geblieben ist, besteht noch heute darin -, daß man sich einer gewissenhaften genauen Erforschung der äußeren materiellen Tatsachen hingibt, daß man sich in einer gewissen Weise an diese Tatsachenwelt verliert, und daß man dann, ausgehend von dieser Untersuchung der Tatsachenwelt, an die man sich stark gewöhnt, eine Lebensauffassung findet, dahin zielend, daß es nur diese Tatsachenwelt als Wirklichkeit gebe, daß alles das, was geistig, seelisch ist, im Grunde genommen nur ein Produkt ist, das sich ergibt aus diesem materiellen Geschehen. - Auch diese Lebensauffassung war in einem gewissen Zeitalter notwendig, und das Gefährliche bestünde nur, wenn sie starr festgehalten würde und die weitere Entwickelung der Menschheit in einer Zeit beeinflussen würde, in der schon andere Inhalte in das menschliche Bewußtsein einziehen müssen.
[ 3 ] Heute wollen wir einmal untersuchen, worauf denn dieser Entwickelungsimpuls des theoretischen Materialismus eigentlich beruht. Dazu kommen wir, wenn wir von einem gewissen Gesichtspunkte. aus heute noch einmal uns vor die Seele rücken die «Dreigliederung des menschlichen Organismus». Ich habe bei den verschiedensten Gelegenheiten diese «Dreigliederung des menschlichen Organismus» charakterisiert. Ich habe gesagt: Wir haben zu unterscheiden innerhalb der menschlichen Gesamtorganisation dasjenige, was man nennen kann zunächst für den physischen Menschen die Sinnes-Nervenorganisation; sie ist vorzugsweise im menschlichen Haupte konzentriert, erstreckt sich aber in einer gewissen Art auch über den ganzen menschlichen Organismus, durchdringt auch die anderen Glieder dieses Organismus. Wir haben dann als zweites Glied die rhythmische Organisation des Menschen, deren Hauptsächlichstes uns entgegentritt in dem Atmungsrhythmus und in der Blutzirkulation. Und wir haben als drittes die Stoffwechselorganisation des Menschen im weiteren Sinne, wozu ja auch das gesamte Gliedmaßensystem des Menschen gehört. Das Gliedmaßensystem des Menschen ist Bewegungssystem, und alle Bewegung des Menschen ist im Grunde genommen nur ein Ausdruck seines Stoffwechsels. Wenn man einmal des Näheren wird untersuchen können, was eigentlich im Stoffwechsel vor sich geht, wenn der Mensch in Bewegung ist, dann wird man diesen innigen Zusammenhang zwischen dem menschlichen Gliedmaßensystem und dem Stoffwechselsystem erkennen.
[ 4 ] Wenn wir diese drei Systeme des Menschen uns vorhalten, dann haben wir zunächst den tiefgreifenden Unterschied gegeben, welcher zwischen diesen drei Systemen besteht. Ich habe schon gestern darauf aufmerksam gemacht, wie zwei Menschen von ganz verschiedener Weltauffassung dutch dieselben Zeichnungen sich klarmachen wollten, was sich auf die menschliche Hauptorganisation, aber auch auf das menschliche Vorstellen bezieht. Ich habe darauf hingewiesen, wie es mir einmal passiert ist bei einem Vortrag anwesend zu sein, der gehalten wurde von einem extremen Materialisten. Er wollte das Seelenleben beschreiben, beschrieb aber eigentlich das menschliche Gehirn, beschrieb die einzelnen Partien dieses Gehirnes, ihre Verbindungsfasern und so weiter. Er bekam dadurch ein Bild heraus; dieses Bild, das er auf die Tafel zeichnete, das war bei ihm nur der Ausdruck desjenigen, was materiell physisch im menschlichen Gehirn vorgeht, es war aber zu gleicher Zeit der Ausdruck für ihn des seelischen Erlebens, vorzugsweise des Vorstellungserlebens. Ein anderer, der Herbartischer Philosoph war, sprach von Vorstellungen, von Assoziationen der Vorstellungen, von der Wirkung also einer Vorstellung auf die andere und so weiter, und er sagte, er könne dasselbe Bild gebrauchen. - Es liegt da, ich möchte sagen, ganz empirisch etwas vor, was außerordentlich interessant ist. Es liegt das vor, daß jemand, dem das Seelenleben für die Beobachtung, wenigstens in seinen Vorstellungen - das muß man ja beim Herbartianismus immer hinzusetzen -, etwas Reales ist, daß der durch dasselbe Bild sich klarmacht, wie dieses Seelenleben wirkt, wie der andere, der eigentlich nur die Geschehnisse im Gehirn darstellen will, das Seelenleben beschreibt.
[ 5 ] Nun, was liegt denn einer solchen Sache eigentlich zugrunde? Das liegt zugrunde, daß ja in der Tat das menschliche Gehirn in seiner plastischen Gestaltung ein außerordentlich getreues Abbild ist desjenigen, was wir als Vorstellungsleben kennen. In der Plastik des menschlichen Gehirnes drückt sich wirklich das Vorstellungsleben in einer, man möchte fast sagen adäquaten Weise aus. Um aber diesen Gedanken wirklich zu Ende denken zu können, ist noch etwas notwendig. Dazu ist notwendig, daß man dasjenige, was man als die Vorstellungsverkettungen in der gewöhnlichen Psychologie lernt, zum Beispiel auch in der Herbartischen Psychologie, was man lernt als die Vorstellungsverkettungen im Urteil, im Schließen durch Logik und so weiter, daß man das nicht bei Gedanken beläßt, sondern daß man es wenigstens in der Phantasie - wenn man auch nicht aufsteigen kann zu hellseherischen Imaginationen -, es wenigstens dann in der Phantasie ins Bild auslaufen läßt; also dasjenige, was das Gewebe der Logik ist, was das Gewebe ist, das uns die Psychologie über das Vorstellungsleben gibt, die Seelenkunde, daß man das ins Bild auslaufen läßt. Wenn man in der Tat dazu gelangt, ich möchte sagen, Logik und Psychologie malerisch-plastisch ins Bild hinüberzugestalten, dann kommt die menschliche Gestaltung des Gehirnes heraus, dann haben wir ein Bild hingezeichnet, dessen Verwirklichung das menschliche Gehirn ist.
[ 6 ] Worauf beruht das eigentlich? Das beruht darauf, daß in der Tat das menschliche Gehirn, überhaupt das ganze Nerven-Sinnessystem, ein Abdruck eines Imaginativen ist. Und vollständig verstehen lernt man den Wunderbau des menschlichen Gehirnes erst, wenn man imaginativ forschen kann. Dann hat man dieses menschliche Gehirn gegeben als realisierte menschliche Imagination. Das imaginative Erkennen lehrt, das äußere Gehirn, das Gehirn, das wir durch die Physiologie und durch die Anatomie kennenlernen, als realisierte Imagination kennenzulernen. Das ist bedeutsam.
[ 7 ] Eine andere Tatsache daneben ist aber nicht minder bedeutsam. Halten wir auf der einen Seite fest: Das menschliche Gehirn ist reale menschliche Imagination. Wir werden ja schon geboren, wenn auch nicht mit dem fertigen Gehirn, so doch mit den Wachstumstendenzen des Gehirnes; es will sich dahin entwickeln, realisierte imaginative Welt zu sein, es will Abdruck werden einer imaginativen Welt. Das ist sozusagen das Fertige an unserem Gehirn, daß es ein Abdruck ist einer imaginativen Welt. In diesen Abdruck der imaginativen Welt bauen wir hinein, was Vorstellungserleben nun ist in der Zeit, die wir durchlaufen zwischen der Geburt und dem Tode. Wir haben in dieser Zeit Vorstellungserlebnisse; wir stellen vor, wir verwandeln die Wahrnehmungen in Vorstellungen, wir urteilen, wir schließen und so weiter. Das bauen wir in unser Gehirn hinein. Was ist dieses für eine Tätigkeit?
[ 8 ] Solange wir im unmittelbaren Wahrnehmen leben, solange wir in der Wechselwirkung stehen mit der Außenwelt, solange wir unsere Augen öffnen den Farben und im Zusammensein mit den Farben leben, solange wir unsere Hörorgane öffnen den Tönen und im Zusammensein in diesen Tönen leben, so lange lebt die Außenwelt, indem sie durch die Sinne wie dutch Golfe eindringt in unseren Organismus, in uns weiter. Wir umfassen mit unserem inneren Leben in uns diese Außenwelt. In dem Augenblicke aber, auf den ich schon gestern aufmerksam machte, wo wir aufhören mit diesem unmittelbaren Erleben der Außenwelt, in dem Augenblicke, wo wit das Auge abwenden von der Farbenwelt, das Ohr unaufmerksam werden lassen in bezug auf das Tönen der Außenwelt, oder in dem Augenblicke, wo wir diese Sinne anderem zuwenden, tritt dasjenige, was Konkretheit hat — unsere Wechselwirkung mit der Außenwelt im Wahrnehmen -, in die Tiefen unserer Seelen hinunter und kann in der Erinnerung wiederum im Bilde hervorgeholt werden. Wir können sagen: Während unseres Lebens zwischen Geburt und Tod gliedert sich vorstellungsgemäß unser Wechselverkehr mit der Außenwelt in zwei Teile, in das unmittelbare Erleben der Außenwelt in Wahrnehmungen und umgestalteten Vorstellungen. Da sind wir sozusagen an die Gegenwart ganz hingegeben, da hört unsere innere Tätigkeit in der Gegenwart auf. Dann aber setzt sich fort diese gegenwärtige Tätigkeit. Sie entzieht sich zum großen Teile zunächst unserem Bewußtsein; sie tritt in das Unbewußte hinunter, kann aber wiederum heraufgeholt werden in die Erinnerungsvorstellung. Wie ist sie da in uns vorhanden?
[ 9 ] Da ist ein Punkt, wo nur das unmittelbare Anschauen, das errungen werden kann in der Imagination, Aufschluß zu geben vermag. Der Mensch, der ehrlich in seinem Wissenschaftsstreben seinen Weg verfolgt, muß sich unbedingt sagen: in dem Augenblick, wo das Rätsel der Erinnerung an ihn herantritt, kommt er mit seinem Forschen keinen Schritt mehr weiter. Indem sich dasjenige, was in unmittelbarer Gegenwart erlebt wird, hinunterschiebt in das Unterbewußtsein, entrückt es sich dem gewöhnlichen Bewußtsein; man kann es da nicht weiter verfolgen. Wenn nun entsprechend gearbeitet wird in der Menschenseele durch diejenigen seelisch-geistigen Übungen, von denen oftmals gesprochen worden ist in diesen Betrachtungen, dann kommt man dazu, nicht mehr zu verlieren den Anblick der Fortsetzungen unseres unmittelbaren Wahrnehmungs- und Vorstellungserlebens, das dann in die erinnerungsmöglichen Vorstellungen übergeht. Ich habe ja des öfteren auseinandergesetzt, wie eine erste Folge, ein erstes Ergebnis des Aufsteigens zu imaginativen Vorstellungen das ist, daß man wie in einem mächtigen Lebenstableau vor sich hat, vor der Seele hat die Erlebnisse seit der Geburt. Während sonst nur der Strom des Erlebens im Unbewußten hinfließt und die einzelnen Vorstellungen, die in der Erinnerung kommen, aus diesem unbewußten oder unterbewußten Strom herauftauchen durch eine halb träumerische Tätigkeit, wird für denjenigen, der das imaginative Vorstellen entwickelt hat, die Möglichkeit geboten, wie in einem Bilde zu überschauen den Strom der Erlebnisse. Man möchte sagen, die Zeit, die da verflossen ist seit unserer Geburt, nimmt sich dann aus wie der Raum selber. Man sieht im Zusammenhange der Bildform dasjenige, was sonst im Unterbewußtsein ist. Wenn man in dieser Weise in unmittelbares Schauen herauf erhebt dasjenige, was sonst ins Unterbewußtsein entschlüpft, dann kann man beobachten diese Fortsetzung der gegenwärtigen unmittelbaren Wahrnehmungs- und Denkerlebnisse bis zu den erinnerungsmöglichen Vorstellungen; man kann verfolgen, was im menschlichen Wesen vor sich geht, sagen wir, mit irgendeinem Erlebnis, das man in der Vorstellung hat, von dem Zeitpunkte, wo man es zunächst für das Vorstellen verloren hat, bis zu dem Zeitpunkte, wo man sich wiederum daran erinnert. Da geschieht ja fortwährend, vom Erleben bis zum Erinnern, etwas in diesem menschlichen Organismus; für das imaginative Vorstellen wird das anschaubar; es wird in Imaginationen anschaubar, aber es enthüllt sich nun in einer ganz besonderen Weise.
[ 10 ] Die Gedanken, die da ins Unterbewußte gewissermaßen sich verloren haben, die regen in diesem Unterbewußtsein nicht eine Tätigkeit an, welche mit unserem Lebensimpuls, mit unserem Wachstumsimpuls zusammenhängt, sondern sie regen eine Tätigkeit in uns an, welche zusammenhängt mit unserem Sterbeimpuls. Das ist das bedeutungsvolle Ergebnis, das sich auf dem Wege, den ich heute nur andeuten konnte, dem imaginativen Erkennen ergibt, daß der Mensch seine Erinnerungstätigkeit, die zur Erneuerung von Gedanken, von Vorstellungserlebnissen, von Wahrnehmungserlebnissen führt, nicht knüpft an dasjenige, was uns ins Leben ruft, was uns ins physische Leben ruft, was uns im physischen Leben die Verdauung befördert, so daß wir die unbrauchbar gewordenen Stoffe durch brauchbare ersetzen und so weiter. Nicht mit diesem aufsteigenden Lebenssystem des Menschen hängt das zusammen, was wir als Erinnerungskraft hinunterschicken in die menschliche Wesenheit, sondern mit dem hängt es zusammen, was wir in uns tragen auch schon seit unserer Geburt, mit dem wir ebenso geboren werden wie mit dem, wodurch wir leben und wachsen, es hängt mit dem zusammen, was uns dann, zusammengedrängt in einem einzigen Momente, für den ganzen Organismus erscheint im Sterben.
[ 11 ] Das Sterben erscheint nur solange als ein großes Rätsel, solange es nicht gesehen wird in dem fortgehenden Leben zwischen Geburt und Tod. Wir sterben nicht nur - wenn ich mich paradox ausdrücken darf -, wenn wir sterben, wir sterben im Grunde genommen in jedem Momente unseres physischen Lebens. Und indem ausgebildet wird in unserem Organismus jene Tätigkeit, welche zur Erinnerung führt als das erinnerungsmäßige Denken - und jedes Erkennen im gewöhnlichen physischen Leben ist ja im Grunde genommen an die Erinnerung geheftet -, insofern ausgebildet wird dieses Erkennen, insofern sterben wir fortwährend. Es ist ein leises Sterben, ausgehend von unserer Hauptesorganisation, fortwährend in uns. Indem wir gerade diese Tätigkeit ausführen, die sich fortsetzt in der Erinnerung, beginnen wir den Akt des Sterbens fortwährend. Nur wird diesem Akt des Sterbens entgegengearbeitet durch dasjenige, was in uns Wachstumskräfte in den anderen Gliedern des menschlichen Organismus sind, die überwältigen die Sterbekräfte. Und so halten wir das Leben durch. Käme es auf unsere Hauptesorganisation, auf die Nerven-Sinnesorganisation an, so wäre eigentlich jeder Augenblick im Leben für uns ein Todesaugenblick. Wir besiegen als Menschen fortwährend den Tod, der von unserem Haupte nach unserer übrigen Organisation gewissermaßen hinströmt. Unsere übrige Organisation wirkt diesem Tode entgegen. Und erst wenn unsere übrige Organisation erlahmt, erlahmt durch das Alter oder erlahmt durch irgendeine andere Schädigung, so daß diese andere Organisation nicht den todbringenden Kräften des menschlichen Hauptes entgegenwirken kann, erst dann tritt für den ganzen Organismus der Tod ein.
[ 12 ] Ja, wir arbeiten eigentlich im heutigen Denken, in dem Denken der heutigen Zivilisation, mit Begriffen, die wie erratische Blöcke nebeneinanderliegen, ohne daß wir den Zusammenhang in richtiger Weise erkennen. Licht muß hineinkommen in dieses Chaos von erratischen Blöcken unserer Begriffs- und Vorstellungswelt. Wir haben auf der einen Seite das menschliche Erkennen, das so eng an die Erinnerungsfähigkeit gebunden ist. Wir schauen dieses menschliche Erkennen an und ahnen nicht seine Verwandtschaft mit der Vorstellung, die wir vom Tode haben. Und weil wir diese Verwandtschaft nicht ahnen, deshalb bleibt uns das, was sich sonst im Leben enträtseln könnte, so rätselvoll. Wir können nicht dasjenige, was sich im Alltag erleben läßt, mit den großen außerordentlichen Augenblicken des Erlebens verbinden. Die mangelnde geistige Überschau über das, was als Brocken herumliegt in unserer Vorstellungswelt, die bewirkt, daß das Leben nach und nach trotz der großen Errungenschaften des 19. Jahrhunderts so undurchschaubar geworden ist.
[ 13 ] Wenden wir jetzt den Blick auf das zweite System, auf das zweite Glied der menschlichen Organisation; da haben wir die rhythmische Organisation. Diese rhythmische Organisation ist ja auch in der menschlichen Hauptesorganisation vorhanden. Das Innere des menschlichen Hauptes atmet mit dem Atmungsorganismus mit. Das ist schon eine äußerliche physiologische Tatsache. Aber die Atmung des menschlichen Hauptes ist gewissermaßen mehr nach innen liegend, sie verbirgt sich vor der Nerven-Sinnesorganisation. Sie ist verdeckt durch dasjenige, was für die Hauptesorganisation die Hauptsache ist. Aber das menschliche Haupt hat durchaus auch seine verborgene rhythmische Tätigkeit. Diese verborgene rhythmische Tätigkeit tritt aber vorzüglich zutage eben in der menschlichen Brustorganisation, in den Verrichtungen des menschlichen Organismus, die ihren Mittelpunkt im Atmungsorgan und im Herzen haben. Wenn wir allerdings diese Organisation, wie sie sich uns äußerlich darbietet, anschauen, so können wir nicht in der gleichen Weise wie bei der Hauptesorganisation in ihr erblicken wie ein plastisches Bild dasjenige, was als seelisches Gegenstück dazu vorhanden ist, nämlich das Gefühlsieben. Unser Gefühlsleben erscheint uns ja schon, wenn wir das seelische Erleben betrachten, als etwas mehr oder weniger ineinander Verschwimmendes. Wir haben von unseren Vorstellungen scharfe Konturen. Wir haben auch von den Assoziationen der Vorstellungen wiederum deutliche Begriffe. Aber wir haben nicht in derselben Weise scharfe Konturen der Einzelheiten unseres Gefühlslebens. Das regt sich und lebt sich ineinander. Und man wird niemals einen Herbartianer finden, der dasjenige, was er als Abbild für das Gefühlsleben schafft, in einer ähnlichen Zeichnung wird charakterisieren wollen, wie etwa der Anatom oder der Physiologe das Lungensystem oder das HerzBlutsystem aufzeichnet. Da findet man schon, daß zwischen demjenigen, was innerlich seelisch ist, und demjenigen, was äußerlich ist, ein solcher Bezug nicht da ist. Daher kann man sich aber auch nicht diesen Zusammenhang des seelischen Gefühlslebens mit dem rhythmischen System durch die Erkenntnis der Imagination vor die Seele führen. Dazu ist notwendig dasjenige, was ich in meinen Schriften charakterisiert habe als die Erkenntnis der Inspiration. Dieser besonderen Erkenntnisart der Inspiration ergibt sich, daß das Gefühlsleben des Menschen einen unmittelbaren Bezug zu dem rhythmischen System hat, daß ebenso wie das Nerven-Sinnessystem dem Vorstellungsleben zugeeignet ist, das rhythmische System dem Gefühlsleben des Menschen zugeeignet ist. Aber — gewissermaßen vergleichsweise gesprochen - der Wachsabdruck des Gefühlslebens ist das rhythmische System nicht so, wie das Gehirnsystem der Wachsabdruck des Vorstellungslebens ist. Daher können wir nicht sagen, in unserem rhythmischen System sei ein imaginatives Abbild gegeben des Gefühlslebens. Dagegen müssen wir sagen, dasjenige, was sich in uns als rhythmisches System ausbildet, was in uns als rhythmisches System lebt, das ist - nun ganz abgesehen von jeder menschlichen Erkenntnis - durch Weltinspiration entstanden. Es ist inspiriert in uns. Die Tätigkeit, die in der Atmung, die in der Blutzirkulation ausgeübt wird, ist ja nicht nur etwas, was in uns lebt innerhalb unserer Haut, sie ist ein Weltgeschehen, wie das Blitzen und Donnern ein Weltgeschehen ist. Wir hängen ja auch durch unser rhythmisches System zusammen mit der Außenwelt. Die Luft, die jetzt in mir ist, sie war vorher draußen; die Luft, die jetzt in mir ist, sie wird nachher draußen sein. Es ist ein Wahn, zu glauben, daß der Mensch nur innerhalb seiner Haut lebt. Er lebt als ein Glied derjenigen Welt, die um ihn ist. Und aus dieser Welt herein inspiriert ist die Gestalt seines rhythmischen Systems, das in engster Beziehung zu seinen Bewegungen steht.
[ 14 ] Wenn wir nun zurückblicken darauf, können wir sagen: Im menschlichen Haupte haben wir zugrunde liegend zuerst die Verwirklichung einer imaginativen Welt, dann, ich möchte sagen, unter dem, was sich da als eine imaginative Welt realisiert, die Welt des rhythmischen Systems, also eine inspirierte Welt. Von unserem rhythmischen System können wir nur sagen: Da drinnen ist realisiert eine inspirierte Welt.
[ 15 ] Und wie ist es mit unserem Stoffwechsel-Gliedmaßensystem? Der Stoffwechsel gehört mit dem Gliedmaßensystem zusammen, wie ich schon vorhin angedeutet habe. Was sich uns im Stoffwechsel des Menschen darbietet, steht im unmittelbaren Zusammenhang mit der menschlichen Willenstätigkeit. Aber dieser Zusammenhang enthüllt sich weder der imaginativen Erkenntnis noch der inspirierten Erkenntnis. Er enthüllt sich erst der intuitiven Erkenntnis, dem, was ich in meinen Schriften die «intuitive Erkenntnis» genannt habe; daher rührt die Schwierigkeit, dasjenige, was äußerlich-materiell im Stoffwechsel erscheint, als Realisierung einer Weltintuition anzusehen. Aber dieser Stoffwechsel ist ja auch vorhanden im rhythmischen System. Der Stoffwechsel des rhythmischen Systems verbirgt sich unter dem Lebensrhythmus, wie sich unter der Nerven-Sinnestätigkeit im menschlichen Haupte verbirgt der Lebensrhythmus.
[ 16 ] Beim menschlichen Haupte haben wir eine realisierte imaginative Welt, darunter verborgen eine realisierte inspirierte Welt mit Bezug auf den Rhythmus im Haupte. Darunter aber ist auch im Kopfe der Stoffwechsel, also das realisierte Intuitive, so daß wir zunächst unser Haupt begreifen, wenn wir in ihm sehen den Zusammenfluß des realisierten Imaginativen, des realisierten Inspirierten und des realisierten Intuitiven. Im menschlichen rhythmischen System fällt das Imaginative weg, da ist nur die Realisierung des Inspirierten und Intuitiven. Und im Stoffwechselsystem fällt auch die Inspiration weg, da haben wir es nur mit der Realisierung einer Weltintuition zu tun.
[ 17 ] So tragen wir in uns in diesem dreigegliederten menschlichen Organismus zuerst die Hauptesorganisation, ein Abbild desjenigen, was wir anstreben in der Erkenntnis, in der Imagination, Inspiration, Intuition. Wollen wir das menschliche Haupt verstehen, müßten wir uns eigentlich sagen: wenn wir nur die äußere gegenständliche Erkenntnis haben, die ja nicht einmal Imagination ist, die nicht bis zum Intuitiven aufrückt, ist mit dieser Erkenntnis, die nur eine gegenständliche, an der äußeren Sinneswelt gewonnene ist, haltzumachen vor dem menschlichen Haupte. Denn das menschliche Haupt beginnt erst sich in seiner inneren Wesenheit der imaginativen Erkenntnis zu erschließen, und hinter dem, was sich da erschließt, liegt dann ein Tieferes, das sich der Inspiration erschließt, und hinter diesem wiederum dasjenige, was sich dem intuitiven Erkennen erschließt. Das rhythmische System ist auch für die Imagination noch nicht zugänglich, das erschließt sich erst im inspirierten Erkennen. Und dasjenige, was unter ihm verborgen ist, ist das Intuitive. Und den Stoffwechsel sollten wir durchaus unbegreiflich finden innerhalb des menschlichen Organismus. Der richtige Standpunkt gegenüber dem menschlichen Stoffwechsel, er kann kein anderer als der folgende sein. Wir können nur sagen: Draußen beobachten wir den Stoffwechsel der Welt; wir versuchen, ihn mit den Gesetzen des gegenständlichen Erkennens zu durchdringen, erlangen dabei eine Naturerkenntnis des äußerlichen Stoffwechsels. In demselben Momente, wo dieser äußerliche Stoffwechsel sich umwandelt, metamorphosiert in unseren inneren Stoffwechsel, wird er etwas ganz anderes, und er wird etwas, in dem dasjenige lebt, was sich erst der Intuition ergibt.
[ 18 ] Man müßte deshalb sagen: In der Welt, die uns zunächst sinnlich vorliegt, gehört zum Unbegreiflichsten des Unbegreiflichen dasjenige, was die Stoffe innerhalb der menschlichen Haut machen, die wir draußen durch Physik, Chemie und so weiter kennenlernen. — Man müßte sich sagen: Zum höchsten geistigen Erfassen muß man aufrücken, wenn man erkennen will, was mit den Stoffen, die wir draufen so gut anschauen nach ihrer Außenseite, was mit denen eigentlich im menschlichen Organismus vor sich geht.
[ 19 ] So sehen wir, daß im Aufbau unseres Organismus dreierlei zunächst tätig ist. In diesem Aufbau des Organismus ist zuerst tätig dasjenige, was der intuitiven Erkenntnis sich erschließt, es baut aus dem Stoffe der Welt zuerst den Organismus auf. Es ist in diesem Organismus außerdem tätig dasjenige, was sich der inspirierten Erkenntnis erschließt; es gliedert ein dem Stoffwechselorganismus das rhythmische System. In diesem menschlichen Organismus ist weiter tätig dasjenige, was sich der imaginativen Erkenntnis erschließt; es gliedert ein das Nervensystem. Dann, wenn dieser Organismus sich in die äußerliche physische Welt durch die Geburt hineinstellt, dann entwickelt sich dasjenige, was ja gewissermaßen durch ihn fertig ist, weiter, indem der Mensch zwischen Geburt und Tod die gegenständliche Erkenntnis entwickelt. Aber wir haben gesehen von dieser gegenständlichen Erkenntnis, daß sie gebunden ist an die Erinnerungstätigkeit, daß sie nun nicht einem Aufbau angehört, sondern einem Abbau angehört. Wir haben gesehen, wie diese Erkenntnis ein langsames Sterben, vom Haupte ausgehend, ist, so daß wir sagen können: Durch dasjenige, was begriffen werden könnte in Intuition, Inspiration, Imagination, ist der menschliche Organismus aufgebaut worden, das lebt auf eine dem heutigen Erkennen unzugängliche Weise in diesem menschlichen Organismus. Dasjenige aber, was er als unsere gegenständlichen Erkenntnisse in ihn hineinbaut zwischen Geburt und Tod, das baut ihn ab, das zerstört ihn. Und in die Zerstörung hinein denken wir eigentlich, stellen wir vor, wenn wit das Vorstellungs-, das Denkleben entwickeln.
[ 20 ] Man kann, wenn man durchschaut, worin das Erkennen, das mit der Erinnerungsfähigkeit so innig zusammenhängt, eigentlich besteht, gar nicht Materialist sein. Denn wollte man Materialist sein, so müßte man sich vorstellen,daß der Mensch durch seine Wachstumskräfte aufgebaut wird, daß die Kräfte tätig sind, welche die Stoffe aufnehmen, sie weiterbefördern zu den verschiedenen Organen, um die Verdauung im weiteren Sinne im Organismus zu vollziehen; man müßte sich diese Fähigkeit, die im Wachstum, in der Verdauung und so weiter im Aufbau liegt, fortgesetzt denken, und irgendwo müßte sie dann ausmünden in das Vorstellen, in das Denken, das zum gegenständlichen Erkennen kommt. Das ist aber nicht der Fall. Der menschliche Organismus wird aufgebaut durch etwas, was der Intuition, der Inspiration, der Imagination zugänglich ist. Er ist dann aufgebaut, wenn er diese Kräfte in sich verarbeitet hat. Dann beginnt aber die Rückentwickelung, dann beginnt das Zerfallen. Und dasjenige, wodurch das Zerfallen beginnt, das ist das gewöhnliche Erkennen zwischen Geburt und Tod.
[ 21 ] Wir bauen im gewöhnlichen Erkennen nicht in die aufbauenden Kräfte hinein, sondern wir schaffen dabei zuerst, indem wir den Aufbau zerstören, die Grundlagen eines fortwährenden Todeselementes im Menschen. Und in dieses fortdauernde Todeselement setzen wir unsere Erkenntnis hinein. Wir wühlen nicht im Materiellen, indem wir vorstellen, nein, wir zerstören das Materielle, wir übergeben das Materielle den Todeskräften. Und in den Tod hinein denken wir, in das Vernichten des Lebens hinein denken wit. Verwandt ist das Denken, verwandt ist das gewöhnliche Erkennen nicht dem sprießenden, sprossenden Leben, verwandt ist es dem Tode. Und wenn wir auf dieses menschliche Erkennen schauen, so finden wir nicht in den natürlichen Gestaltungen bis zum menschlichen Gehirn hinauf ein Analogon, wir finden allein ein Analogon in dem Leibe, der nach dem Tode zerfällt. Denn dasjenige, was der zerfallende Leib, ich möchte sagen, intensiv darstellt, was der zerfallende Leib in einer gewissen Größe darstellt, das muß fortwährend vor sich gehen in uns, wenn wir im gewöhnlichen Sinne gegenständlich erkennen.
[ 22 ] Man schaue auf den Tod hin, wenn man das Erkennen begreifen will. Man schaue nicht in materialistischer Weise auf das Leben hin, sondern man schaue auf das hin, was die Negation, die Aufhebung des Lebens ist. Dann kommt man zu einem Begreifen des Denkens. Dann allerdings gewinnt dasjenige, was wir den Tod nennen, eine ganz andere Bedeutung, es gewinnt schon aus dem Leben heraus eine andere Bedeutung.
[ 23 ] Man kann auch an äußeren Erscheinungen so etwas schon ermessen. Ich sagte Ihnen gestern: Die Kulmination der materialistischen Weltanschauung lag in der Mitte des 19. Jahrhunderts oder im letzten Drittel des 19. Jahrhunderts. Sie sah auf den Tod hin als auf etwas, was unbedingt abgewiesen werden muß, und sie kam sich in gewisser Weise vornehm vor in diesem Hinschauen auf den Tod, der das Leben schließt, das Leben, das man allein eigentlich betrachten wollte und das man aber selber als abgeschlossen betrachten wollte mit dem Tode. - Man sieht vielfach etwas verächtlich zurück auf das «kindliche Volksbewußtsein». Aber nehmen Sie ein Wort dieses «kindlichen» Volksbewußtseins. Nehmen Sie das Wort «verwesen» für dasjenige, was nach dem Tode geschieht: «ver-wesen», die Vorsilbe «ver» ist immer ein Hinbewegen zu demjenigen, was das Wort ausdrückt; «verbrüdern» heißt, sich nach der Richtung des Bruderwerdens bewegen, «versammeln» heißt, sich nach der Richtung des Sammelns bewegen. «Verwesen» bedeutet im Volksmund nicht auflösen, nicht aufhören, sondern in das Wesen hinein sich bewegen. Solche, mit dem geistigen Erfassen der Welt während eines instinktiven Erkennens zusammenhängende Wortbildungen wurden sehr selten. Im 19. Jahrhundert materialisierte man, lebte man nicht mehr in dem, was die geistmäßige Durchdringung des Wortes war. Und man könnte viele solche Beispiele anführen, welche zeigen würden, daß sich einfach schon in der Sprache der Menschen der Materialismus in seiner Kulmination dargelebt hat.
[ 24 ] So können wir verstehen, wie, nachdem der Mensch aufgebaut war, wie ich gestern sagte, bis zu einer Kulmination durch Kräfte, die sich in der Inspiration, Intuition und Imagination erschließen, er dann zu einer höchsten Kulmination im 19. Jahrhundert kam, und wie dann wieder eine Dekadenz folgte. Wir können begreifen, daß gewissermaßen der Mensch sich entfernte von der Kraft, sich innerlich zu erfassen, indem er am stärksten die Kräfte ausbildete, die dem Tode als Erkenntniskräfte am verwandtesten sind, die Abstraktionskräfte. Und hier ist es, wo dann von der heutigen Betrachtung ausgehend, man fortschreiten kann zu dem, was in der ganzen Menschheitsentwickelung der eigentliche wesentliche Impuls ist desjenigen, was man den materialistischen Erkenntnisimpuls innerhalb der Menschheitsgeschichte nennen kann.
Second lecture
[ 1 ] I would like to point out at the outset that today's lecture is not part of the course series, but is intended to follow on from what I said yesterday evening. Yesterday, we looked at the particular development of human history that took place in the middle and second half of the 19th century, at the developmental impulse of materialism. I said that in these considerations our attention should not be directed so much to materialism in general, which requires other points of view, but rather to theoretical materialism, to materialism as a worldview. And I have pointed out that it is indeed necessary to confront this materialism with a sufficient critique, but that, on the other hand, this materialism was a necessary phase in the development of human history, that we cannot simply say that this materialism is to be rejected, that it is a human aberration, but that this materialism needs to be understood. The two things are by no means mutually exclusive. And it is precisely in such a consideration that it is important to extend the realm of those ideas that relate to truth and error further than is usually done. People usually talk about how one can err in logical thinking, or how one can find the truth. But they do not talk about how, under certain circumstances, the view of the external world can also find errors in external reality. And as difficult as it may still be for today's imagination to recognize errors in natural events—which, however, spiritual science also seeks to do— it is nevertheless easy for people today to recognize real errors in what emerges in the course of historical development, in what has an effect, so to speak, on the common social life of humanity—errors that cannot simply be corrected logically, but must be understood from the conditions in which they arose.
[ 2 ] In thinking, error must be rejected outright. One must escape from error and arrive at truth by overcoming error. But when it comes to errors that are rooted in reality, one must always say that these errors also have their positive side, that in a certain way they are of value for the development of humanity. And so the theoretical materialism of the 19th century must not be condemned in a one-sided, philistine manner, but must be understood in its significance for the entire development of humanity. It consisted—and what remains of it still exists today—in devoting oneself to a conscientious and precise investigation of external material facts, in losing oneself in a certain way in this world of facts, and then, starting from this investigation of the world of facts, to which one becomes strongly accustomed, in arriving at a view of life that aims at the conclusion that only this world of facts exists as reality, that everything spiritual and soul-like is, in essence, merely a product resulting from this material process. This view of life was also necessary in a certain age, and the danger would only arise if it were rigidly adhered to and influenced the further development of humanity at a time when other contents must already be entering human consciousness.
[ 3 ] Today we want to examine what this developmental impulse of theoretical materialism is actually based on. We come to this when we once again consider the “threefold structure of the human organism” from a certain point of view. I have characterized this “threefold structure of the human organism” on various occasions. I have said that within the overall organization of the human being, we must distinguish between what can be called, first of all, the sensory-nervous organization of the physical human being; this is concentrated primarily in the human head, but also extends in a certain way throughout the entire human organism, permeating the other members of this organism. Then we have, as the second member, the rhythmic organization of the human being, which we encounter primarily in the breathing rhythm and in the blood circulation. And thirdly, we have the metabolic organization of the human being in the broader sense, which also includes the entire limb system of the human being. The limb system of the human being is the movement system, and all human movement is basically only an expression of his metabolism. Once we are able to examine more closely what actually happens in the metabolism when humans are in motion, we will recognize this intimate connection between the human limb system and the metabolic system.
[ 4 ] When we consider these three systems of the human being, we first have the profound difference that exists between them. Yesterday, I already pointed out how two people with completely different worldviews wanted to use the same drawings to clarify what relates to the main organization of the human being, but also to human imagination. I mentioned how I once attended a lecture given by an extreme materialist. He wanted to describe the life of the soul, but actually described the human brain, describing the individual parts of the brain, their connecting fibers, and so on. This resulted in a picture, which he drew on the blackboard. For him, this picture was merely an expression of what goes on in the human brain in material, physical terms, but at the same time it was an expression of spiritual experience, primarily of the experience of ideas. Another philosopher, a Herbartian, spoke of ideas, of associations of ideas, of the effect of one idea on another, and so on, and he said he could use the same image. There is, I would say, something quite empirical here that is extremely interesting. There is the fact that someone for whom the life of the soul is something real for observation, at least in his ideas—this must always be added in Herbartianism—makes clear to himself through the same image how this life of the soul works, how the other, who actually only wants to represent the events in the brain, describes the life of the soul.
[ 5 ] Now, what actually underlies such a thing? What underlies it is that the human brain, in its plastic structure, is indeed an extraordinarily faithful reflection of what we know as the life of the imagination. The plasticity of the human brain truly expresses the life of the imagination in a way that one might almost call adequate. But in order to really think this idea through to its conclusion, something else is necessary. It is necessary that what we learn as chains of ideas in ordinary psychology, for example in Herbartian psychology, what we learn as chains of ideas in judgment, in logical reasoning, and so on, one must not leave it at thoughts, but at least in the imagination—even if one cannot ascend to clairvoyant imaginations—one must at least let it flow into images in the imagination; that is, one must let that which is the fabric of logic, that which is the fabric that psychology gives us about the life of ideas, the science of the soul, flow into images. If one actually succeeds, I would say, in translating logic and psychology into pictures in a painterly, plastic way, then the human structure of the brain emerges, then we have sketched a picture whose realization is the human brain.
[ 6 ] What is this actually based on? It is based on the fact that the human brain, indeed the entire nervous and sensory system, is an imprint of the imaginative. And one can only fully understand the miraculous structure of the human brain if one is able to investigate imaginatively. Then you have this human brain as realized human imagination. Imaginative cognition teaches us to recognize the external brain, the brain we know through physiology and anatomy, as realized imagination. That is significant.
[ 7 ] Another fact is no less significant. Let us note on the one hand that the human brain is real human imagination. We are already born, if not with a finished brain, then at least with the growth tendencies of the brain; it wants to develop into a realized imaginative world, it wants to become an imprint of an imaginative world. This is, so to speak, what is finished in our brain, that it is an imprint of an imaginative world. We build into this imprint of the imaginative world what we experience as imagination in the time we spend between birth and death. During this time, we have imaginative experiences; we imagine, we transform perceptions into ideas, we judge, we draw conclusions, and so on. We build this into our brain. What kind of activity is this?
[ 8 ] As long as we live in immediate perception, as long as we interact with the outside world, as long as we open our eyes to colors and live in harmony with colors, as long as we open our ears to sounds and live in harmony with these sounds, the outside world continues to live within us, penetrating our organism like waves through the senses. We embrace this external world with our inner life within us. But at the moment I pointed out yesterday, when we cease this immediate experience of the external world, at the moment when we turn our eyes away from the world of colors, when we allow our ears to become inattentive to the sounds of the external world, or at the moment when we turn these senses to something else, that which that has concreteness—our interaction with the external world in perception—descends into the depths of our souls and can be brought back to the surface in memory in the form of images. We can say that during our life between birth and death, our interaction with the external world is divided into two parts, the immediate experience of the external world in perceptions and transformed ideas. There we are, so to speak, completely devoted to the present; our inner activity ceases in the present. But then this present activity continues. It initially eludes our consciousness for the most part; it descends into the unconscious, but can be brought back up again into the memory image. How is it present in us?
[ 9 ] There is a point where only direct observation, which can be achieved in the imagination, can provide insight. The person who honestly pursues his path in his scientific endeavors must necessarily say to himself: at the moment when the mystery of memory confronts him, he cannot advance a single step further in his research. As what is experienced in the immediate present sinks into the subconscious, it recedes from ordinary consciousness; it cannot be pursued further there. If, then, the human soul is worked upon in the manner described in these considerations by means of the spiritual exercises that have often been mentioned, we will no longer lose sight of the continuations of our immediate perceptions and imaginative experiences, which then pass into ideas that can be remembered. I have often explained how a first consequence, a first result of rising to imaginative ideas is that one has before one, as in a powerful tableau of life, the experiences since birth. Whereas otherwise only the stream of experience flows into the unconscious, and the individual ideas that come to mind emerge from this unconscious or subconscious stream through a semi-dreamlike activity, those who have developed imaginative thinking are offered the opportunity to survey the stream of experiences as if in a picture. One might say that the time that has passed since our birth then appears like space itself. In the context of the image form, one sees what is otherwise in the subconscious. When one rises in this way to immediate perception of that which otherwise slips into the subconscious, one can observe this continuation of present immediate perceptions and thought experiences up to the point where they become memories; one can follow what goes on in the human being, let us say, with some experience that one has in the imagination, from the moment when one first lost it to one's imagination until the moment when one remembers it again. Something is constantly happening in the human organism, from experience to memory; this becomes visible to the imaginative faculty; it becomes visible in imaginations, but it now reveals itself in a very special way.
[ 10 ] The thoughts that have, as it were, been lost in the subconscious do not stimulate an activity in this subconscious that is connected with our life impulse, with our growth impulse, but they stimulate an activity in us that is connected with our death impulse. This is the significant result that emerges from the path I have only been able to hint at today that human beings do not link their memory activity, which leads to the renewal of thoughts, of imaginative experiences, of perceptual experiences, to that which brings us into life, which brings us into physical life, which promotes digestion in physical life, so that we can replace substances that have become useless with useful ones, and so on. What we send down into the human being as memory is not connected with this ascending life system of the human being, but with what we carry within us from birth, with what we are born with, with what we live and grow through; it is connected with what then, compressed into a single moment, appears to the whole organism in dying.
[ 11 ] Dying only appears to be a great mystery as long as it is not seen in the continuing life between birth and death. We do not only die—if I may express myself paradoxically—when we die; we die, in essence, in every moment of our physical life. And as that activity which leads to memory as remembrance is developed in our organism—and every act of cognition in ordinary physical life is, in essence, attached to memory—to the extent that this cognition is developed, to that extent we die continuously. It is a quiet dying, originating in our head organization, continually within us. By performing this very activity, which continues in memory, we continually begin the act of dying. Only this act of dying is counteracted by what are growth forces in the other members of the human organism, which overcome the forces of death. And so we sustain life. If it depended on our head organization, on the nerve-sense organization, every moment of life would actually be a moment of death for us. As human beings, we continually defeat death, which flows from our head to the rest of our organization, so to speak. The rest of our organization counteracts this death. And only when our other organization weakens, whether through age or some other damage, so that it can no longer counteract the deadly forces of the human head, only then does death occur for the entire organism.
[ 12 ] Yes, in our present thinking, in the thinking of today's civilization, we actually work with concepts that lie side by side like erratic blocks, without recognizing their connection in the right way. Light must be brought into this chaos of erratic blocks in our world of concepts and ideas. On the one hand, we have human cognition, which is so closely linked to the ability to remember. We look at this human cognition and do not suspect its relationship to the idea we have of death. And because we do not suspect this relationship, what could otherwise be unraveled in life remains so mysterious to us. We cannot connect what we experience in everyday life with the great extraordinary moments of experience. The lack of intellectual overview of what lies scattered around in our world of ideas is what has made life so inscrutable, despite the great achievements of the 19th century.
[ 13 ] Let us now turn our attention to the second system, the second link in the human organization; here we have the rhythmic organization. This rhythmic organization is also present in the organization of the human head. The interior of the human head breathes with the respiratory organism. This is already an external physiological fact. But the breathing of the human head is, in a sense, more internal; it is hidden from the nervous-sensory organization. It is concealed by that which is the main thing for the head organization. But the human head also has its hidden rhythmic activity. This hidden rhythmic activity is particularly evident in the human chest organization, in the activities of the human organism that have their center in the respiratory organ and the heart. However, when we look at this organization as it appears to us externally, we cannot see in it, in the same way as in the head organization, a plastic image of what exists as its soul counterpart, namely the feeling-sieve. When we consider our soul experience, our feeling life already appears to us as something more or less blurred. We have sharp contours of our ideas. We also have clear concepts of the associations of ideas. But we do not have sharp contours of the details of our emotional life in the same way. It stirs and lives within each other. And one will never find a Herbartian who would want to characterize what he creates as a representation of emotional life in a drawing similar to that in which an anatomist or physiologist records the pulmonary system or the heart-blood system. One finds that there is no such connection between what is internal and spiritual and what is external. Therefore, one cannot bring this connection between the spiritual emotional life and the rhythmic system before the mind through the knowledge of imagination. This requires what I have characterized in my writings as the knowledge of inspiration. This special kind of knowledge, inspiration, reveals that the emotional life of the human being has a direct connection to the rhythmic system, that just as the nervous-sensory system is appropriate to the life of imagination, the rhythmic system is appropriate to the emotional life of the human being. But — comparatively speaking, so to speak — the rhythmic system is not the imprint of the emotional life in the same way that the brain system is the imprint of the life of the imagination. Therefore, we cannot say that our rhythmic system contains an imaginative image of emotional life. On the contrary, we must say that what develops within us as a rhythmic system, what lives within us as a rhythmic system, has come into being through world inspiration, quite apart from any human knowledge. It is inspired within us. The activity that is carried out in breathing and in the circulation of the blood is not just something that lives within us inside our skin; it is a world event, just as lightning and thunder are world events. Through our rhythmic system, we are also connected to the outside world. The air that is now inside me was previously outside; the air that is now inside me will be outside afterwards. It is a delusion to believe that human beings live only within their skin. They live as a member of the world that surrounds them. And inspired from this world is the form of their rhythmic system, which is closely related to their movements.
[ 14 ] Looking back on this, we can say that in the human head we first have the realization of an imaginative world, then, I would say, beneath what is realized as an imaginative world, the world of the rhythmic system, that is, an inspired world. Of our rhythmic system, we can only say: there is an inspired world realized within it.
[ 15 ] And what about our metabolic limb system? Metabolism belongs to the limb system, as I indicated earlier. What presents itself to us in human metabolism is directly related to human volition. But this connection is not revealed to imaginative or inspired knowledge. It is revealed only to intuitive knowledge, to what I have called “intuitive knowledge” in my writings; hence the difficulty of viewing what appears externally and materially in metabolism as the realization of a world intuition. But this metabolism is also present in the rhythmic system. The metabolism of the rhythmic system is hidden beneath the rhythm of life, just as the rhythm of life is hidden beneath the nerve-sense activity in the human head.
In the human head, we have a realized imaginative world, hidden beneath it a realized inspired world related to the rhythm in the head. But beneath this, in the head, there is also metabolism, i.e., the realized intuitive, so that we first understand our head when we see in it the confluence of the realized imaginative, the realized inspired, and the realized intuitive. In the human rhythmic system, the imaginative falls away, leaving only the realization of the inspired and intuitive. And in the metabolic system, inspiration also falls away, leaving us with only the realization of a world intuition.[ 17 ] Thus, in this threefold human organism, we first carry within us the head organization, a reflection of what we strive for in knowledge, imagination, inspiration, and intuition. If we want to understand the human head, we must actually say to ourselves: if we only have external, objective knowledge, which is not even imagination, which does not rise to the level of intuition, then with this knowledge, which is only objective knowledge gained from the external sensory world, we must stop before the human head. For the human head only begins to reveal itself in its inner essence through imaginative knowledge, and behind what is revealed there lies something deeper that is revealed through inspiration, and behind this in turn lies that which is revealed through intuitive knowledge. The rhythmic system is not yet accessible to the imagination; it only opens up in inspired cognition. And what is hidden beneath it is the intuitive. And we should find the metabolism within the human organism completely incomprehensible. The correct standpoint toward the human metabolism can be none other than the following. We can only say: outside, we observe the metabolism of the world; we try to penetrate it with the laws of objective cognition, thereby gaining a natural knowledge of the external metabolism. At the very moment when this external metabolism transforms, metamorphoses into our internal metabolism, it becomes something completely different, and it becomes something in which that which is only accessible to intuition lives.
[ 18 ] One would therefore have to say: In the world that is initially available to us through the senses, one of the most incomprehensible things is what the substances do within the human skin, which we learn about from physics, chemistry, and so on. — One would have to say: One must advance to the highest spiritual understanding if one wants to recognize what actually happens in the human organism with the substances that we see so well on the outside.
[ 19 ] In this structure of the organism, the first thing at work is that which is revealed to intuitive knowledge; it first builds the organism out of the substance of the world. In addition, that which is revealed to inspired knowledge is also at work in this organism; it structures the rhythmic system of the metabolic organism. Furthermore, that which is revealed to imaginative knowledge is also at work in this human organism; it structures the nervous system. Then, when this organism enters the external physical world through birth, that which is, in a sense, complete through it develops further as the human being develops objective knowledge between birth and death. But we have seen that this objective knowledge is bound to the activity of memory, that it does not belong to a process of building up, but to a process of breaking down. We have seen how this knowledge is a slow dying process, starting from the head, so that we can say: through what could be grasped in intuition, inspiration, and imagination, the human organism has been built up, and this lives in a way that is inaccessible to today's knowledge in this human organism. But what he builds into it between birth and death as our objective knowledge breaks it down, destroys it. And we actually think into this destruction, we imagine it, when we develop our life of imagination and thought.
[ 20 ] If one sees through what cognition, which is so intimately connected with the faculty of memory, actually consists of, one cannot be a materialist. For if one wanted to be a materialist, one would have to imagine that human beings are built up by their forces of growth, that the forces that take up the substances are active, and transport them to the various organs in order to carry out digestion in the broader sense within the organism. One would have to imagine this ability, which lies in growth, digestion, and so on in the structure, as continuing, and somewhere it would then have to culminate in imagination, in thinking, which leads to objective cognition. But this is not the case. The human organism is built up by something that is accessible to intuition, inspiration, and imagination. It is built up when it has processed these forces within itself. But then the process of degeneration begins, and decay sets in. And that which causes decay to begin is ordinary cognition between birth and death.
[ 21 ] In ordinary cognition, we do not build upon the constructive forces, but rather, by destroying the structure, we first create the foundations of a perpetual element of death within the human being. And into this continuous element of death we place our knowledge. We do not delve into the material by imagining, no, we destroy the material, we surrender the material to the forces of death. And we think into death, we think into the destruction of life. Thinking is related, ordinary cognition is related, not to sprouting, budding life, but to death. And when we look at this human cognition, we find no analogue in the natural formations up to the human brain; we find an analogue only in the body that decays after death. For what the decaying body, I would say, intensively represents, what the decaying body represents in a certain magnitude, must continually go on within us when we perceive objects in the ordinary sense.
[ 22 ] Look at death if you want to understand cognition. Do not look at life in a materialistic way, but look at what is the negation, the abolition of life. Then you will come to an understanding of thinking. Then, however, what we call death takes on a completely different meaning; it already takes on a different meaning from life itself.
[ 23 ] One can already gauge something like this from external appearances. I told you yesterday: the culmination of the materialistic worldview was in the middle of the 19th century or in the last third of the 19th century. It viewed death as something that must be rejected at all costs, and in a certain sense it felt superior in this view of death as the end of life, the life that one actually wanted to contemplate alone and that one wanted to regard as complete with death. People often look back with contempt on this “childish popular consciousness.” But take a word from this “childish” popular consciousness. Take the word “verwesen” (to decay) for what happens after death: “ver-wesen,” the prefix “ver” always means a movement toward what the word expresses; ‘verbrüdern’ (to fraternize) means to move in the direction of becoming brothers, “versammeln” (to gather) means to move in the direction of gathering. In the vernacular, “verwesen” does not mean to dissolve or cease, but to move into the essence. Such word formations, connected with the spiritual grasping of the world during instinctive cognition, became very rare. In the 19th century, people materialized; they no longer lived in the spiritual essence of words. And one could cite many such examples that would show that materialism had already reached its culmination in the language of human beings.
[ 24 ] Thus we can understand how, after human beings were built up, as I said yesterday, to a culmination through forces that unfold in inspiration, intuition, and imagination, they then reached a highest culmination in the 19th century, and how this was followed by a decline. We can understand that, in a sense, human beings distanced themselves from the power to grasp themselves inwardly by developing most strongly those powers that are most closely related to death as powers of cognition, the powers of abstraction. And this is where, starting from today's perspective, we can proceed to what is the actual essential impulse in the entire development of humanity, what we can call the materialistic impulse of knowledge within human history.