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The Anthroposophic Movement
GA 258

12 June 1923, Dornach

Third Lecture

Critical Judgment and Colour of the Times

In my attempt to describe the career of the various societies, or associations, with which the Anthroposophical Society has a certain connection (though one, which at the present day is much misunderstood), I was led yesterday to allude to the phenomenal appearance of H. P. Blavatsky, and I tried to give some idea of the manner in which this personality entered into the spiritual life of the closing nineteenth century. I was obliged to go back to this particular personality, because, after all, the impulse which, at the end of the nineteenth century, led to the association of the people, whom I classed two days ago under the name ‘homeless souls’, came from those works of which Blavatsky was the author.

Although Anthroposophy, and its appearance on the scene, has in reality scarcely anything to do with the works of Blavatsky, still I do not merely want in these lectures to describe the historic aspect of the anthroposophic movement only; I want also to point out its associative features, as we have them before us in the anthroposophic movement to-day. And this makes it necessary to take such points to start from, as I have selected in the past two days.

Now of course, as regards everything that may be said about Blavatsky, it is very easy to-day, if one wants to discredit the kind of spiritual aspirations that manifested themselves, say, in the ‘Theosophical Society’,—it is easy enough to dismiss a phenomenon like Blavatsky by pointing out the very dubious character of what one finds in this individual's personal biography.

I might instance a great number of things. I only need allude to the notions, which arose amongst the society that had gathered round Blavatsky and her spiritual life, that certain information about the spiritual world had been made known through the transmission of physical letters, physical communications,—by means, that is, of writings on paper,—from a quarter not situated within the physical world. They used to call these documents ‘Masters' Letters’,—used to exhibit them, and declare them not to have been written in the ordinary way, or at least not conveyed in the ordinary way to the place from which they were then produced. It was therefore an affair which made a considerable stir, when subsequently, in the house in which these letters had been exhibited under H. P. Blavatsky's leadership, a whole conjuror's apparatus of sliding doors was disclosed, by means of which the letters could simply be pushed in, through these doors, in the ordinary physical way, but fraudulently, into the room where they then turned up as magic documents; and other things of the sort.

It is, of course, exceedingly easy for people in our times to point to such things, and to find in them plain evidence that such a personality as Blavatsky's can be simply settled with the words: ‘She was just a swindler’.—Well, as to this aspect of the phenomena that. played around Blavatsky, we shall still have several things to say. But, for the moment, there is another standpoint still that we may take, namely, of not troubling ourselves for the moment with all that went on on the external side of the affair.

Certainly, there are things in it which have raised objection. But let us just neglect these objections for a while; say that we don't trouble ourselves about all the things which went on on the exterior, and simply consider the written works themselves. And, if one does so, one will then come to the conclusion which I described to you recently,—to the conclusion, namely, that in Blavatsky's works one is largely dealing with a mass of chaotic, dilettante stuff, which has been scribbled down amongst the rest; but that, along with all this, there are things which unmistakably, when they come to be tested by proper methods, are in every way to be regarded as reproductions—by some means or other—of a very extensive knowledge of the spiritual world, or from the spiritual world. This is something which cannot be denied, despite any objections that may be raised.

And here then arises the exceedingly important and, as I think, crucial question for the inner history of civilized evolution: How and from what cause could it happen that, at the end of the nineteenth century, from—let us say so far—a questionable quarter, there could come actual tidings from a spiritual world? that there could come revelations of a spiritual world, which at the least, when taken as occasions for examining into the state of the facts, do show themselves, even to a spiritual observation of the objective and scientific kind, to be in every way deserving of most studious attention?—revelations which, about the fundamental laws of the world, the fundamental forces of the world, have more to tell, than everything which in modern times has been brought to light about the world's secrets, either by philosophy, or by any other of the different tendencies of world-conception. The question may well seem a crucial one,

And then, to face this, there is another problem again in civilized evolution, which must not be forgotten when speaking of the life-conditions of anything such as the Anthroposophical Society, or indeed in connection with any endeavours to find a way into the spiritual world. And this phenomenon of civilized evolution is: that the capacity for judgment, the power of conviction in any judgment, has altogether suffered very greatly in our age,—has gone back.

People allow themselves to be deceived in this respect by the great steps that have been made in progress. But if one considers these very steps of progress, and what the connection has been between these great steps forwards, that have been made in our day, and the course followed by its spiritual life, in so far as the individual human personalities have intervened as judgmatic persons in this spiritual life's course,—then one gets a background, so to speak, for observing with what capacity our age approaches phenomena of any kind, that appeal to the human powers of judgment.

There is really uncommonly much that might be mentioned. I will only pick out just a few instances. I would ask, for instance, those who have had anything to do with applied electricity, whether as professionals or amateurs,—I would ask them, what the so-called Ohm's Law means to-day for applied electricity? The answer would be, of course, that Ohm's Law forms one of the fundaments on which the whole system of applied electricity is built up.—When Ohm produced his first work, which was the basis for his later, so-called Ohm's Law, this work was rejected as ‘unusable’ by a distinguished learned faculty at one of the universities. Had things gone according to this learned faculty, there could be no applied electricity to-day.

Again, to take perhaps something more directly obvious to you:—you all know what the telephone means for us to-day in the whole of our civilized life. When Reis, who was outside the ring of official science, put on paper for the first time his idea of the telephone, and sent in his manuscript to one of the best-known periodicals of the day, the Poggendorff Annals, the work was returned as unusable.

So great, you see, is the power of conviction residing in people's judgment to-day,—and one might multiply such instances indefinitely. Great is the judgment of our times in its powers of conviction. One must simply look at these things with perfect objectivity.

One may pick out anything, lying, so to speak, on our top-peaks of civilization, and one will find everywhere the same kind of thing. Or, if one goes more into the hidden corners, well, there too very pretty examples may often be found, to illustrate the capacity of judgment in those quarters which have the leading voice to-day in all that may be termed the management of spiritual life.

And the public again, the mass of the public, who follow along the broad high-road of which I spoke two days ago,—they are entirely under the impress of all this, which is accepted as the recognized thing to-day.—Well, civilization is common to all countries; in no country is it better nor worse than in another.

Take an illustration such as this: Adalbert Stifter is a poet of some distinction. I don't, however, want now to go into his distinction as a poet, but to tell something out of his life. He passed,—extremely well indeed,—through the classical side of the secondary school, and then studied natural science, with the intention of qualifying as a secondary school teacher. But he was judged to be quite unsuit-able for a secondary school teacher. His talents were not judged adequate for a secondary school teacher. In the judgment of the authorities he was not talented enough to become a teacher at a secondary school.

Now strangely enough it happened, that a certain Baroness Muenk, who had nothing whatever to do with judging the qualifications of secondary school teachers, heard of the poet, Adalbert Stifter, made him read to her the poems which he had so far written, and to which he himself attached no great value, and downright compelled. him to publish them. They made at once a great sensation. And the authorities now said: We can have no better man to make school inspector for the whole country. And so it came about, that the very person, who but a little while before had been deemed incompetent to be himself a teacher, was now appointed chief superintendent over the whole of these teachers.

It would be extremely interesting, some time or other, to describe a series of such things, collected from all the various departments of spiritual life, beginning with a phenomenon like that of Julius Robert Mayer. The law connected with his name, that of the conservation of energy, is one, as you know, which I am obliged to contest in certain of its fields of application. Modern physics, however, does not contest it; it upholds it indeed in every particular, and is altogether built up on this law of the conservation of energy. Julius Robert Mayer, who to-day figures as a hero (you have heard me mention others before, such as Gregory Mendel, who had a similar fate),—Julius Robert Mayer, born at Heilbronn on the Neckar, was always at the bottom of his class; and at the University, to which he went on,—it was Tuebingen,—he one fine day was advised, on account of his performances, that it would be better for him to with-draw from the university. It is certainly no merit of the university's, that he came upon his discoveries; for, at the university, they wanted to turn him out, before ever he had a chance to take his degree and become a doctor.

Beginning with such things, down to the vast tragedy attending the name of that man, to whose immense desert it is owing, that puerperal fever,—which simply swept its people away until Semmelweiss appeared,—is to-day reduced to a minimum,—down to this whole vast tragedy of Semmelweiss, which finally resulted, as in the case of Julius Robert Mayer, in Semmelweiss' ending his days in a mad-house, despite the fact that he is one of mankind's greatest benefactors ... if one were to put all these things together, one would have an extremely important element in the history of civilization in recent times, and would thence be able to judge, how little power this externally progressive age had for hitting the facts, in its estimation of spiritual phenomena,—how little readiness there was, really, to enter into any signs that showed themselves on the horizon of its spiritual life.

Such things as these have to be taken into account, if one wishes to form a true picture of the antagonistic forces opposed to the intervention of any spiritual movement. And then one learns to know, what capacity there is for any sort of judgment in this, our present age, which is so specially proud of these powers of judgment that it does not possess.

Now it is really a remarkably symptomatic phenomenon, that what otherwise had only existed traditionally, hoarded up in all manner of secret societies, who had no intention whatever of letting it become public,—that all this hoarded store, or a great part of it, should suddenly appear openly published in the book of a woman, Blavatsky,—in a book bearing the title Isis Unveiled.

Naturally, it gave alarm to all the people who said to themselves: ‘This book contains a whole mass of things, that we have always kept under lock and key.’ And these societies, I may say, paid more heed to their locks and keys than our present Anthroposophical Society does.

In the Anthroposophical Society there most certainly was never any intention of keeping the contents of the cycles totally and absolutely secret; but what happened was, that, at a particular time, I found myself required to let those things, which otherwise I give by word of mouth, he made accessible to a larger circle. And since there was no time to go through the things and edit them, one simply let them be printed as ‘manuscript’ in the form they were in, which was not that in which one would otherwise have published them,—not, however, because one did not want to publish the material, but because one didn't want to publish the material in this form, and also because, after all, one wanted to see that these things should he read by people who have the preparatory training, for otherwise they are inevitably misunderstood.

But in spite of this, every one of the cycles is to be had to-day by anyone who requires it for antagonistic purposes. Those societies I am speaking of, who kept a certain spiritual treasure under lock and key, and put their people under oath to betray no word of it, they knew better how to take care of things. And they knew, that something very particular must be behind it, when a book suddenly appears, which this time really gave something of importance, such as I indicated. As for the things which have no importance, you need only go down a side-street in Paris to pick up basketfuls of the writings of the secret societies on sale; but the publication of these writings will occasion no alarm to the people who have kept the traditional knowledge locked up in their secret societies; for as a rule they are very valueless things that one finds published in this way.

Isis Unveiled, however, was not something valueless. This Isis Unveiled, indeed, delivered itself with a certain substantiality, that made the knowledge seem original which it imparted, and which had been so carefully preserved over from an ancient wisdom until now.

Well, as I said, those people, who were alarmed, could but think that there was something very particular behind it,—a betrayal from some quarter. I do not so much want now, in these lectures, to emphasize the inner side of the affair, which I have repeatedly discussed at one time or another in previous lectures from this or that aspect. I want more to-day to deal with the outer side of it, as the world judged it, which is of special importance for the history of the movement,—to describe how the world judged it, rather than what went on as facts behind the scenes.—This, then, the people could tell: namely, that somebody or other, who was initiated in these things, who had received traditional knowledge of them, must for some reason,—not necessarily a particularly good one—have given hints to Blavatsky. This, it was very easy to tell, without being wide of the truth, that somewhere or other, from some secret society, or group of societies, there had been a betrayal; and that then Blavatsky had been the means of making the thing public.

There would quite well, though, have been other ways of giving such things to the public, than by employing a lady of Blavatsky's kind as the means of publication.

There was, however, a reason, of which again I will only give the outer aspect, for employing this particular lady. And here I come to a chapter in our spiritual history, which is really a very curious one. At that time, when Blavatsky and her books came on the scene, there was but very little talk of what is in everybody's mouth to-day, namely, of Psycho-Analysis. But I can assure you, my dear friends, that the people, who had any powers of judgment,—that these people experienced in living truth, through this same phenomenon of Blavatsky, something, compared with which all that ever yet was written by any of the leading lights of Psycho-Analysis is really—as I said lately in another connection—a dilettanteism to the second degree.—For what does Psycho-Analysis propose to show?

In the point wherein Psycho-Analysis is in a sense right, it shows, that down below, at the bottom of the human being, there lives something, which,—whatever this ‘down below’ may be,—can be brought up to consciousness, and, when brought up, extends beyond what man has in his conscious-ness originally. So that one may say, if you like, that, hidden in the corporeal body, there is something which, when brought up into consciousness, looks like spirit. Through the corporeal body runs a rumble of spirit.—It is of course extremely elementary for the psycho-analyst in this way to fish up a few fragmentary leavings of life-experience from the bottom of the human being,—leavings, that is, remnants of life-realizations, which have not been lived through with quite sufficient intensity for the emotional requirements of the person in question,—which, as it were, have deposited themselves, form dregs in the man, and thereby bring him into a state of unstable, instead of stable equilibrium; and that then, what has thus collected during a man's life should be fished up, although it rumbles down below in unconsciousness, and when fished up into consciousness proves to be something spiritual, something which simply is not, so to speak, properly assimilated to the human being, and therefore rumbles in a disagreeable manner. When it becomes conscious, however, it can then be dispelled by the proper reaction, and so the man gets rid of the disagreeable rumbling.

It is interesting, though, what a point this psycho-analytic, dilettante method of investigation has reached to-day. With Jung, particularly, it is extremely interesting. Jung has found out, that down below,—the ‘down below’ can't, of course, be very exactly determined, but somewhere down below (its whole being is after all very indeterminate!),—that somewhere then, man has within his being everything in the nature of undigested experience that he may have lived through since his birth; that there, down below, within his human being, he has all sorts of things, that go back to his early forefathers, that may take us back indeed all the way through the life-experiences of the various races, and further back still. So that it seems to the psycho-specialists to-day by no means improbable, for instance, that some experience which they met with, like the OEdipus problem say, in Greece, left an impression on the people; and that then it was transmitted by heredity, on and on. And to-day some poor devil comes to the psycho-analyst's clinic, and he psycho-analyses him, and gets up something that is seated so deep down in the patient, that it doesn't come out of his own, present life, but from his father and forefather and fore-forefather, and so on, away back to the time of the ancient Greeks who lived in the days of the OEdipus problem. And so it has run down through the whole blood-stream, and can be psycho-analysed out again to-day. There are the OEdipus sensations, rumbling about in the man, and can be psycho-analyzed out of him. And then they think that they will come on really very interesting trains of connection, and on something that will lead back far into the races, if they psycho-analyse it out.

Only,—you see,—these are altogether dilettante methods of investigating. For you only need a little acquaintance with Anthroposophy to know, that it is possible to bring up a very great many things out of the under depths of man's life: his pre-natal life to begin with, his pre-earthly life, what the man went through before he came down into the physical world; that one can bring up out of him what he went through in previous earth-lives. There one comes out of dilettanteism and into actual reality!

And there, too, one comes to recognize, that in Man the whole secret of the Universe is contained, involved, rolled up together, as it were, in him. It was the view, after all, of ancient times as well, that the secret of the Universe is un-rolled, when Man brings up from within him all that lies hid in his own inner depths. That was why they called Man a Microcosm, not for the sake of a fine phrase, such as people are so fond of to-day, but because it was a fact of actual experience, that from the bottom depths of Man every conceivable thing can be fetched up whatsoever, that lies spread as a secret through the width and breadth of the Cosmos.

It is in reality the merest elementary dilettanteism, which one finds to-day as psycho-analysis. For, firstly, it is psychologic dilettanteism,—they don't know, that, when you get to a certain depth, physical and spiritual life are one. They merely regard the soul-life swimming on the top, and apply abstract notions to this surface soul-life; they never get down to those lower depths, where the soul-life lives creative, weaving, pulsing in blood and in breathing, where it is one, in fact, with the so-called material functions. They study the soul's life in a dilettante way. And again, they study the physical life in a dilettante way, inasmuch as they study it merely in its external appearance to the senses, and don't know that everywhere, in all sense-life, and above all in the human organism, there is hidden spirit.

And when two dilettanteisms are so interwoven, that the one is used to throw light on the other, as is done in psycho-analysis, then the dilettanteisms do not merely add, but they multiply together, and one gets dilettanteism squared.

Well, what displays itself in the form of this squared dilettanteism, was, in a way, to be seen unmistakably in the psychologic problem of Blavatsky. From some quarter or other there may have been something betrayed, which gave an incentment; and this incentment worked practically in the same way as though an invisible psycho-analyst—but a wise one this time!—had fetched up out of Blavatsky, by means, namely, of a sudden jerk, a whole mass of knowledge; which this time came from the actual person herself, and not from old writings that had been handed down by tradition from olden times. Something had here been brought to light out of the actual human being itself, by what I might call the invisible psycho-analyst. For, whether there was any traitor in the question, he, at any rate, was not the psycho-analyst; he only gave the jerk. The circumstances, however, themselves gave the jerk.—And what were the circumstances?

Look back at the evolution of the ages, to about the fifteenth century, and you will find, my dear friends, that it still, indeed frequently, happened, if people were stirred and roused by something or other (it merely needed to be some external phenomenon, that specially struck them), that then out of their own inner being there rose up before them some revelation of world-secrets. Later on, this has become something mystical and legendary; and the story told by Jacob Boehme, of how he had a marvellous revelation from gazing at a pewter plate, is thought very wonderful, simply because people do not know how things were in earlier times, and that down even into the fifteenth century it was still possible, through a comparatively, to all appearance trifling occasion, to call forth out of the inner man stupendous revelations of world-secrets, which the man then saw in a vision.

But ever more and more has the possibility decreased for men to have inner revelations through incentments of such a kind. This comes, you see, from the increasing ascendancy of intellectualism. Intellectualism, is of course, involved with a definite form of development in the brain; the brain becomes ... one cannot, of course, prove it physiologically in externals, by anatomic means, but one can prove it nevertheless spiritually ... the brain becomes in a way calcified, stiver. And, in matter of fact, the brains of civilized mankind have grown considerably stiver since the fifteenth century. And this stiff brain does not allow man's inner revelations to come to the surface in his consciousness. And now I must say something exceedingly paradoxical, but which nevertheless is true. This greater stiffness of brain showed itself, as a fact, mostly in male humanity;—which I do not say as a special ground of rejoicing for any particular female brain, for towards the last half of the nineteenth century the women's brains too began to be stiff enough;—still, the vantage in respect of intellectuality and stiffness of brain lay with the men. And with this is connected the decrease in judgment.

Now this was the very time, when the practice of keeping secret the old knowledge was still very largely maintained. And the case then turned out to be, that the men were not much affected by this knowledge; for they learnt it by memory, in grades, and it did not much affect them;—besides, they kept it under lock and key. Supposing, how-ever, there were someone, who in some way wanted to set this old knowledge working once more with peculiar activity, then he might quite well make the peculiar experiment of administering this old knowledge (which he himself need not perhaps even understand), just in a small dose maybe, to a woman,—and to one moreover, whose brain was very specially prepared; for the Blavatsky brain was, after all, somewhat different from other woman-brains of the nineteenth century. And then it might be, that,—just from the contrast of it with everything else that was there as education in these woman-brains,—what was otherwise old, dried-up knowledge might catch fire and so,—just as the psycho-analyst gives some particular lead, that stirs up the whole human being,—so it might stir up the peculiar personality of Blavatsky. And. then, through this stir, she out of her-self discovered what had been altogether forgotten by the whole of mankind, except those who were in secret societies, and by the others, who were in secret societies, had been kept carefully under lock and key,—to a great extent indeed not even understood. In this way it could all come out, as though, one might say, through a cultural vent-hole.

But at the same time there was no sort of foundation there, for the things to have been worked up in a reasonable form. For Madame Blavatsky was certainly anything but a logical reasoner. In logic she was exceedingly weak; and whilst in actual fact she could produce out of her total human being revelations of world-secrets, she was by no means also adequate to describing these things in a form for which one could be answerable to the scientific conscience, say, of the modern age.

And now, consider for a moment. Seeing the scant measure of judgment that was brought to hear upon spiritual phenomena, what possibility was there for a thing such as this,—which only showed itself again one might say, twenty years later, in a quite primitive, dilettante fashion at most, in psycho-analysis, and then only in a very tiny field,—how was it possible for a thing such as this, that could grow to a living experience of gigantic size and grandeur, such as psycho-analysis will only one day be able to rise to, when it has been purified, clarified, when it is placed on a reasonable basis and conducted really scientifically, when people no longer psycho-analyse out of the blood, that comes from men who lived in the days of the OEdipus problem and has run through the veins down into our present generation, but when they really understand how the web of the world is woven ... yes, indeed, how could such a living experience, which, in the face of to-day's degenerate psycho-analysing, displays what I might call its grand, gigantic counterpart, freed of all its caricature,—how, at a time when the capacity for judgment was what I have described to you, how could this thing hope, in any wide circle of people, to meet with an adequate measure of under-standing?

In this respect, one could really make many experiences as regards the comprehension to be met with in our days, when one made the least attempt to appeal to a somewhat larger measure of judgment.

To give an instance as illustration. These illustrations are necessary, and you will see as the lectures go on, how necessary it is that I should enter into these seemingly quite personal matters. I should like to tell you an example of how hard it is in these modern times to make oneself at all understandable, directly there is some point about which one desires to appeal to a somewhat larger measured, larger hearted judgment.

There was a time, about the turn of the century, in Berlin, where I was then living, when Giordano Bruno Associations used to be founded, and amongst others was a ‘Giordano Bruno League’. There were other Giordano Bruno Associations, but this, that was founded, was a ‘Giordano Bruno League’. It had in it truly admirable people, according to the fashion and notions of the time,—people really with a profound interest in every sort of thing in which one could possibly take an interest in those days, and round which one could centre the whole range of one's thoughts and feelings and will. Indeed, in the abstract fashion which is usual in modern times, there was even reference made in this Giordano Bruno League to the Spirit. A notable personage in this Giordano Bruno League prefaced its foundation with an introductory lecture on, ‘Matter is never without Spirit.’ But it was all so hopeless! For this ‘Spirit’, and all that went on there, was at bottom a pure abstraction, nothing which could ever get near any actual reality in the world. The whole way of thinking was terribly abstract!—What in particular seemed to me very irritating, was the way in which the people every moment, on every possible occasion, dragged in the word monoism: One must worship the one-and-only reasonable and man-befitting Monoism; and Dualism is a thing of the past. And then came always a reference to the way in which in these modern times we had emancipated ourselves from the Dualism of the Middle Ages.

These, you see, were things which at the time I found uncommonly irritating. I found them irritating for the reason ... in the first place, all this gassing about monoism, and dilettante rejection of any dualism ... and then I found it irritating to talk about the Spirit in this general, pantheistic way,—that the Spirit is ... well, that there is, after all Spirit too everywhere,—until nothing was left of Spirit but the word. I found all this considerably irritating.

As a matter of fact, after the delivery of the very first lecture on ‘Matter never without Spirit’, I came to words with the man who had delivered the lecture; which brought me already at the time into very bad odour. But this whole monistic business went on ever further, and grew more and more irritating,—interesting, but irritating,—until I decided once for all to lay hold of the people at a salient point, and so at least, as I hoped, shake up their powers of judgment a little. And after a whole series of lectures, through which the tirades had gone on about the darkness of the Middle Ages and the horrible dualism of the Scholastics, I determined,—it was just at the time, in which people now declare, at that very time, that I was a rabid Haeckelite!—I determined for once to do something which should give the people's judgment a little shaking-up. And so I held a lecture on Thomas Aquinas, in which—to put now into a couple of sentences what I then expounded at length—I said somewhat as follows: There was absolutely xiii justification,—I said,—as regards the spiritual life of the past and its ideas, for talking of the darkness of the Middle Ages and in particular of the Dualism of Thomas Aquinas and the Scholastics; for that, if Monoism was the order of the day, I would undertake to show that Thomas Aquinas was a thorough monoist. Only then one must not give the name of Monoism only to what the present age understands by it, as materialistic Monoism; but one must give the name of Monoist to everyone, who looks on the Universal Principle as residing in a Monon, in a Unity. And that—I said—Thomas Aquinas most certainly did; for he obviously saw in the Unity of the Godhead the Monon underlying everything that exists as creation in the universe. Here—said I you have a basis of the purest Monoism. Only that Aquinas according to the method of those times, drew this distinction: that the one half could be comprehended by ordinary human knowledge, through the senses and the understanding,—the other half by means of another kind. of knowledge, which in those days was called Belief. But what the Scholastics still understood by Belief, is not understood by mankind to-day at all. And so one must be clear, I said, that Thomas Aquinas wanted to approach the Universe on its one side by this investigation and knowledge of the understanding but that, on its other side, he wanted to supplement and complete this investigated knowledge of the understanding by the displayed truths of revelation. And it was precisely by this means that he sought to penetrate to the Monon of the Universe. He only sought to proceed by two roads. And it was all the worse for the present age, I said, that this present age had. not sufficiently large-hearted ideas to look round about it a little in history.

In short, I wanted to assist the dried-up brains to a little moisture. Rut it was all in vain; for the effect was a most extraordinarily curious one. The people could make nothing at all of the matter to begin with. They were all thorough-going evangelical protestants, and thought: here was an attempt to smuggle in Catholicism. It's a defence of Catholicism,—they thought,—with its horrible Dualism! It is really dreadful!—they said:—Here are we, taking every possible pains to deal Catholicism its death-blow; and now comes a member of this very Giordano Bruno League, and takes Catholicism into defence!

Really, the people didn't know at the time, whether I had not gone mad in the night, when I gave this lecture. They could make nothing at all of the affair. And. they were really people of the most enlightened brains, at that time. In fact, there was only one, really, who afterwards came forward as a sort of apologist. It was the poet Wolfgang Kirchbach. He was the only one, who then devised a formula, under which the lecture could enjoy civic rights in the Giordano Bruno League. And this was the formula he devised: He said: What Steiner wanted, was not by any means to smuggle in Catholicism; but he wanted to show, that in that ancient scholastic wisdom of Catholicism there still lay something much weightier, than all that we have ourselves to-day in our superficial ideas. That was what he wanted to show. He wanted to show us, that the reason why Catholicism is such a powerful enemy, is because we are such weak opponents, that we must furnish ourselves with stronger weapons. That was what his lecture was intended to show.

And this was the only formula, under which the lecture then, by one-third, by a minority, so far managed to obtain civic rights, that I was at any rate not excluded from the Giordano Bruno League. But with the majority I passed for a man, who had had his brain turned by Catholicism.

Well, you see, this is just an episode out of the same period, at which I am now said. to have been a rabid disciple of Haeckel. Through such things, however, one gained practical experience as to the capacity of judgment, namely as to the largeness of judgment, with which anything was welcomed, which was not bent in the first place upon theoretic formulas, but was bent on actually pursuing the road to the spirit, on actually getting into the spiritual world.

For, getting into the spiritual world really does not depend on what particular theory one has about Spirit or Matter, but on whether one is in a position to bring about an actual living experience of the spiritual world. As I have often pointed out before, the Spiritualists most certainly believe that all their proceedings make for the spirit; but their theories all the same are so empty of spirit!—they certainly do not lead men spiritwards. One may be a materialist even, and yet inspired with a great deal of spirit; it is real spirit, too, even though it be spirit mistaken in error. One need not of course set up self-mistaken spirit as something very valuable; but self-mistaken spirit, spirit which cheats itself by taking Matter to be the one and only reality, can at any rate be much richer in spirit, than that spiritual poverty which seeks the spirit after a material fashion, because it can find no spirit whatever within itself.

In looking back, then, to its first beginnings, which must be rightly grasped in order to understand the whole meaning and life-conditions of the movement, one must know, in the lit st place, in what an exceedingly problematic manner the spiritual world's revelations made their entrance at first—if I may use the expression—into the earth-world, in the last third of the nineteenth century, and how little people's judgment in general was ripe for the reception of these spiritual revelations,—and then, above all, how strong the determination was in certain definite circles, that nothing whatever which really leads to the spirit should be allowed to get out amongst the people. Most undoubtedly, there were a large number of by no means negligible persons, on whom the apparition of Blavatsky could not fail to act with rousing effect.

And that is what it did do at first. The attitude of the people who still preserved some judgment, was, that they said to themselves: This, after all, is something that speaks for itself: It is strange that it should come into the world just in the way it has now; but it is a thing that speaks for itself. One need only apply sound ordinary understanding to it, and it speaks for itself.

There were, however, many people, as I said, whose interest it was, that just this kind of arousing influence should on no account be allowed to come into the world.

And now the thing was there; there, in a person such as Blavatsky, who in a certain sense again was quite naive and helpless in the face of her own internal revelation. This can be seen from the very style of her writings.—The thing was there, then: and this was how she herself stood towards it: naive and helpless in a sort of way, and at the mercy of much that afterwards took place in her surroundings. For do you think it was especially difficult,—especially with H. P. Blavatsky it was not very difficult,—for people, whose desire it now was, so to manipulate the world that it should be proof against every sort of spirituality,—for these people to get at Blavatsky and form her surroundings. Just because she was so naive and helpless before her own internal revelations, she was in a way credulous. In the affair of the sliding-doors, for instance, through which were shoved letters ostensibly from the Masters, but which some person outside—whether B ... or another—had written and shoved in, it is by no means a necessary assumption that Blavatsky had said in the first instance to B ... : You shove them in!—but rather, she was again, in a way, native, and believed, herself, in letters of the kind. The same person, who shoved them in, deceived Blavatsky, It was then of course very easy to say before the world: The woman is a swindler. But don't you see, my dear friends, Blavatsky herself might very well be swindled. For there was a certain capacity in her for quite uncommon credulity, as a consequence just of this peculiar, let me say, non-hardness of her brain. The problem therefore is altogether an extremely complicated one; and really demands,—as everything genuinely spiritual does, which comes into the world to-day,—really calls for power of judgment, for a certain soundness of human understanding.—It is not exactly sound human understanding, when people first judge Adalbert Stifter not even competent to be a teacher, and then afterwards ... in this case again it was a woman,—probably one again with a softer brain than those committee-men all had in the government offices, or the school-boards, ... afterwards, when a hint came from this quarter, they then declared him qualified to inspect all the very people to whose ranks he might not even belong.

To perceive the truth in such matters does, you see, amongst other things, require sound human understanding. About this sound human understanding, however, there are peculiar notions. Last year, when I was holding a fairly big course of lectures in Germany, I made frequent use of the expression ‘sound human understanding’, and said, that everything which Anthroposophy has to say from the spiritual world can be tested by sound human understanding. One of the critics, and by no means the worst of them, caught this up, and made the following criticism. He said, almost word for word: To talk of sound human understanding was, after all, bait for gudgeons; for everybody to-day, who has had any sort of scientific training, knows very well, that the human understanding, when it is sound, knows next to nothing; and when it fancies that it knows something, then it is not sound.—This was the sub-stance of a critical judgment, written with no lack of esprit.

Put more into general words, then, this means, that anyone, who to-day is as clever as he should be, after all the steps that have been made in human progress, is aware that one can know nothing: if he thinks that he knows anything, he is mad.—So far have we come already in our reception of the gifts of the spirit.

And now that I have given you some instances, before the anthroposophic movement began, of the capacity for apprehending a spiritual manifestation, and have given you now the judgment of an at any rate standard critic only a year ago, you have a tolerable picture of how this disposition of the age has pursued the whole movement. For, after all, seeing the general atmosphere of the age, and especially that a personage so hard to understand as Blavatsky was there in addition, to point to as an illustration,—there could but proceed from this atmosphere of the age the one judgment, which is simply the same as is repeated to-day in all manner of variations,—only that one person says it in one way, another in another: Everyone to-day, who is clever, who has sound human understanding, says, Ignorabimus. Everyone, who doesn't say Ignorabimus, is either mad, or a swindler.

One must not look on this as simply proceeding from ill-will. In order to be able to take one's place rightly in the age, in order to perceive a few of the necessary life-conditions of the anthroposophic movement, or e must not see in all this merely the ill-will of private individuals, but one must recognize it as something that belongs to the colour of the times in all countries, amongst the whole of modern mankind, and that must be recognized for what it is.

Then, it is true, in the whole stand which one takes up,—and which one must take up vigorously and boldly!—one will then also be able to mingle what must be there besides, when speaking about the age from the anthroposophic standpoint,—what, after all, must be present in all refutation, however sharp—sharp in soul,—of our opponents: and that is, compassion. One must, nevertheless, have com-passion, because the judgment of the age is clouded.

How things now went with the anthroposophic movement, and were bound to go, circumstances being as they are,—of this we will speak more tomorrow.

Dritter Vortrag

Indem ich den Hergang der gesellschaftlichen Vereinigungen schildern wollte, mit denen in einem gewissen, allerdings heute vielfach mißverstandenen Zusammenhang die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft steht, mußte ich gestern auf die Erscheinung der A. P. Blavatsky hinweisen. Ich habe schon versucht anzudeuten, wie sich diese Persönlichkeit in das Geistesleben vom Ende des 19. Jahrhunderts hineinstellte. Ich mußte auf diese Persönlichkeit aus dem Grunde zurückgreifen, weil immerhin zur Vereinigung von Menschen, die ich vorgestern unter dem Namen von heimatlosen Seelen zusammengefaßt habe, am Ende des 19. Jahrhunderts die Werke, die von Blavatsky herrühren, den Anstoß gegeben haben.

Wenn auch mit dem, was als Anthroposophie auftrat, die Werke der Blavatsky wirklich kaum etwas zu tun haben, so möchte ich doch nicht bloß in diesen Vorträgen das Geschichtliche der anthroposophischen Bewegung schildern, sondern auch das Gesellschaftsmäßige, das uns in der anthroposophischen Bewegung heute vorliegt, charakterisieren. Und dazu sind eben solche Ausgangspunkte nötig, wie ich sie in diesen zwei Tagen gewählt habe.

Nun wird man ja selbstverständlich alles dasjenige, was über Blavatsky gesagt werden kann, heute sehr leicht - wenn man solches geistiges Streben, wie es, sagen wir, in der Theosophical Society hervorgetreten ist, abkritisieren will - abtun können; man wird ja sehr leicht solch eine Erscheinung wie die Blavatsky abkanzeln können, indem man darauf hinweist, wie problematisch manches ist, was in der Biographie dieser Persönlichkeit anzutreffen ist.

Ich könnte da sehr vieles aufzählen. Ich brauche nur darauf hinzuweisen, wie innerhalb der Gesellschaft, die sich an Blavatskys Geistesleben angeschlossen hat, die Anschauungen entstanden , daß gewisse Erkenntnisse über die geistige Welt dadurch zustande gekommen seien, daß physische Briefe, physische Kundgebungen, also auf Papier Aufgeschriebenes, von einer Seite hergekommen sei, die nicht innerhalb der physischen Welt liegt. Man nannte solche Dokumente «Meisterbriefe»; man wies sie auf, sagte, sie seien nicht auf gewöhnliche Weise geschrieben, oder seien wenigstens an den Ort, an dem sie produziert wurden, nicht auf gewöhnliche Weise gelangt. Es war dann eine ziemlich aufsehenerregende Geschichte, als in jenem Hause, in dem unter der Führung von H.P. Blavatsky solche Briefe vorgewiesen worden waren, allerlei schwindelhaft zustande gekommene Schiebetüren aufgezeigt werden konnten, wo durch solche Türen eben einfach auf gewöhnliche physische, aber schwindelhafte Weise diese Briefe hereingeschoben werden konnten in das Zimmer, in dem sie dann als Zauberbriefe aufgefunden wurden, und dergleichen mehr.

Es wird selbstverständlich den Zeitgenossen außerordentlich leicht, auf diese Dinge hinzuweisen und dann bewahrheitet zu finden, daß eine solche Persönlichkeit wie die Blavatsky einfach abzutun ist mit den Worten, daß sie eben eine Schwindlerin war. Nun, wir werden über diese Seite der Erscheinungen, die sich um Blavatsky herum abspielten, auch noch einiges zu sprechen haben. Aber man kann sich zunächst auch noch auf einen anderen Standpunkt stellen, auf den Standpunkt, daß man sich zunächst um all dasjenige nicht kümmert, was sich da äußerlich zugetragen hat.

Gewiß werden auch Einwände gemacht. Aber sehen wir jetzt einmal von diesen Einwänden ab. Man kümmert sich um all dasjenige nicht, was sich äußerlich zugetragen hat, und sieht einfach auf die Werke hin. Dann wird man zu jenem Urteil kommen, das ich in diesen Tagen Ihnen geschildert habe, zu dem Urteil, daß es sich in den Werken der Blavatsky vielfach um dilettantisches, chaotisches Zeug handelt, das in sie hineingeschrieben worden ist, daß aber bei alldem Dinge drinnen stecken, die, wenn sie mit den rechten Mitteln nachgeprüft werden, durchaus aufzufassen sind als auf irgendeine Art zustande gekommene Wiedergaben von weitgehenden Erkenntnissen über die geistige Welt oder aus der geistigen Welt heraus. Das ist eben nicht zu leugnen, trotz aller Einwände, die gemacht werden.

Da entsteht denn die außerordentlich wichtige, bedeutungsvolle, wie ich glaube, innerlich kulturhistorische Frage: Was liegt dem zugrunde, daß am Ende des 19. Jahrhunderts, sagen wir, zunächst von einer problematischen Seite her eben Kundgebungen aus einer geistigen Welt, Offenbarungen über eine geistige Welt kommen konnten, welche mindestens dann, wenn sie als Anregungen benützt werden, um nachzuschauen, wie es sich mit ihnen verhält, auch vor einer objektiven geisteswissenschaftlichen Betrachtung durchaus die eingehendste Aufmerksamkeit verdienen; Offenbarungen, die über die Grundgesetze der Welt, über die Grundkräfte der Welt mehr aussagen als alles dasjenige, was durch Philosophie oder durch andere Weltanschauungsströmungen in der neueren Zeit über die Geheimnisse der Welt zutage gefördert worden ist. Als eine bedeutungsvolle Frage muß einem das doch erscheinen.

Dem steht gegenüber eine andere kulturhistorische Erscheinung, die man nicht vergessen darf, wenn man über die Lebensbedingungen von so etwas spricht, wie es die Anthroposophische Gesellschaft ist, im Zusammenhange überhaupt mit Bestrebungen, um zu Wegen nach der geistigen Welt zu kommen. Diese kulturhistorische Erscheinung ist die, daß die Urteilsfähigkeit, die Überzeugungskraft des Urteils in unserer Zeit überhaupt außerordentlich gelitten hat, zurückgegangen ist.

Man läßt sich in dieser Beziehung täuschen durch die großen Fortschritte, die gemacht worden sind. Aber gerade wenn man diese großen Fortschritte, die heute gemacht worden sind, im Zusammenhange betrachtet mit dem Gang des Geisteslebens, insofern sich die einzelnen menschlichen Persönlichkeiten als urteilsfähige Persönlichkeiten hineinstellen in diesen Gang des Geisteslebens, dann wird man, ich möchte sagen, einen Hintergrund bekommen für die Kapazität, mit der unser Zeitalter überhaupt Erscheinungen, die an das Urteilsvermögen der Menschen appellieren, gegenübertritt.

Man müßte wirklich außerordentlich vieles nennen. Ich möchte nur ein klein wenig herausgreifen. Ich frage zum Beispiel diejenigen, die heute sich fachmännisch oder nur dilettantisch, sagen wir, mit Elektrotechnik befaßt haben, was für die Elektrotechnik heute das sogenannte Ohmsche Gesetz bedeutet? Man wird natürlich darin zur Antwort bekommen: Das Ohmsche Gesetz bildet eine der Grundlagen für die Entwickelung der ganzen Elektrotechnik. -— Als Ohm die erste Arbeit geleistet hatte, die grundlegend war für sein später sogenanntes Ohmsches Gesetz, da wurde diese Arbeit von einer berühmten philosophischen Fakultät an einer Universität als unbrauchbar zurückgewiesen. Wäre es nach dieser philosophischen Fakultät gegangen, so könnte es heute gar keine Elektrotechnik geben.

Dann etwas, was Ihnen vielleicht noch handgreiflicher ist: Sie wissen alle, was heute das Telephon in unserem ganzen Kulturleben bedeutet. Als der außerhalb der offiziellen Wissenschaft stehende Reis zum ersten Male die Idee des Telephons aufschrieb und das Manuskript einer der berühmtesten Zeitschriften der damaligen Zeit, den Poggendorffschen Annalen, überreichte, wurde die Arbeit als unbrauchbar zurückgewiesen. Sehen Sie, so groß ist die Schlagkraft des Urteiles, die eben in den Menschen ist, und man könnte diese Beispiele ins Unermeßliche vermehren. Ja, so groß ist die Schlagkraft des Urteils in unserer Zeit! Man muß diesen Dingen nur mit voller Objektivität eben gegenüberstehen.

Man braucht ja nur irgend etwas, ich möchte sagen, auf dem Gipfelberge unserer Kultur aufzugreifen, man wird überall etwas ähnliches finden. Oder wenn man mehr in die verborgenen Ecken geht, da finden sich manchmal auch niedliche Erscheinungen zur Charakteristik der Urteilsfähigkeit desjenigen, was heute eben tonangebend ist mit Bezug auf, sagen wir, die Verwaltung des Geisteslebens. Und das Publikum wiederum, das große Publikum, das die breite Heerstraße geht - ich habe vorgestern davon gesprochen -, steht ganz unter dem Eindrucke desjenigen, was in dieser Weise heute anerkannt ist. Nun, die Kultur gehört zu allen Ländern; es ist in keinem Lande besser oder schlechter.

Nehmen Sie eine solche Erscheinung: Adalbert Stifter ist ein ganz bedeutender Dichter, aber ich will jetzt gar nicht auf seine Bedeutung als Dichter eingehen, sondern etwas aus seinem Leben erzählen. Er machte, ausgezeichnet sogar, seine Gymnasialstudien durch, studierte dann Naturwissenschaften und wollte es zum Gymnasiallehrer bringen. Allein, man fand ihn völlig ungeeignet zum Gymnasiallehrer, man fand ihn zu wenig begabt zum Gymnasiallehrer. Die Autoritäten fanden, er sei nicht genügend begabt zum Gymnasiallehrer. Nun trug sich das Eigentümliche zu, daß eine gewisse Baronin Mink, die gar nicht irgend etwas zu beurteilen hatte über die Fähigkeiten der Gymnasiallehrer, von dem Dichter Adalbert Stifter hörte, sich dasjenige, was er dazumal schon gedichtet hatte und was er selber gar nicht besonders schätzte, vorlesen ließ und ihn geradezu zwang, es zu veröffentlichen. Das machte sogleich großes Aufsehen. Die Autoritäten sagten jetzt: Wir können ja keinen Besseren zum Schulinspektor das ganzen Landes machen. Und so wurde denn derjenige, der noch kurz vorher unfähig geachtet wurde, Lehrer zu werden, zum Oberaufsichtsmann bestellt für alle diese Lehrer!

Es würde außerordentlich interessant sein, einmal auf den verschiedensten Gebieten des geistigen Lebens diese Dinge im Zusammenhange zu schildern, angefangen von einer solchen Erscheinung, wie ich sie eben bei Adalbert Stifter geschildert habe, bis, nun ja, etwa auch einer solchen Erscheinung, wie diejenige des Julius Robert Mayer. Sie wissen, ich muß sogar das Gesetz von der Erhaltung der Kraft, das an seinen Namen sich knüpft, auf gewissen Gebieten bekämpfen. Aber die gegenwärtige Physik bekämpft es nicht, sondern verteidigt es sogar in jedem Kapitel, ist ganz auf dieses Gesetz von der Erhaltung der Kraft aufgebaut. Julius Robert Mayer, der heute als ein Heros dasteht - ich habe Ihnen auch schon andere genannt, wie zum Beispiel Gregor Mendel, dem es in ähnlicher Weise gegangen ist —, Julius Robert Mayer, der zu Heilbronn am Neckar geboren ist, war immer der Letzte in seiner Klasse und bekam auch von der Universität, die er dann bezog - es war in Tübingen -,. eines schönen Tages wegen seiner Aufführung den Rat, von der Universität abzugehen. Es ist durchaus nicht das Verdienst der Universität, daß er zu seinen Entdeckungen gekommen ist, denn die wollte ihn abschieben, bevor er das Examen gemacht hatte und Arzt werden konnte. Von solchen Dingen angefangen bis zu der ungeheuren Tragik, die sich an den Namen Semmelweis knüpft, jene Persönlichkeit, die das ungeheure Verdienst hat, daß auf ein Minimum heute die Kindbettfieber reduziert sind, die vor dem Auftreten von Semmelweis eben die Menschen nur so dahinrafften, bis zu dieser ungeheuren Tragik von Semmelweis, die auch zuletzt dazu geführt hat, ähnlich wie bei Julius Robert Mayer, daß Semmelweis im Irrenhaus geendet hat, trotzdem er einer der größten Wohltäter der Menschheit ist, wäre es interessant, diese Dinge im Zusammenhang zu schildern. Wenn man das alles zusammenfassen würde, würde man eben ein außerordentlich wichtiges Element in der Kulturgeschichte der neuesten Zeit bekommen, aus dem man würde ersehen können, wie wenig Schlagkraft diese Zeit des äußeren Fortschrittes in der Beurteilungsfähigkeit von geistigen Erscheinungen hatte, wie wenig eigentlich Neigung vorhanden war, einzugehen auf dasjenige, was am Horizont des Geisteslebens erschien.

Solche Dinge müssen schon berücksichtigt werden, wenn man die dem Eingreifen einer geistigen Bewegung entgegengesetzten feindlichen Kräfte richtig ins Auge fassen will. Man wird dann wissen müssen, welche Urteilsfähigkeit überhaupt in unserer heutigen Zeit vorhanden ist, die so hochmütig gerade auf ihre nicht vorhandene Urteilsfähigkeit ist.

Es ist ja eine wirklich außerordentlich charakteristische Erscheinung, daß dasjenige, was sonst nur traditionell bewahrt worden ist in allerlei Geheimgesellschaften, die es durchaus nicht an die Öffentlichkeit gelangen lassen wollten, zu einem großen Teil plötzlich . erscheint, veröffentlicht in dem Buche einer Frau, der Blavatsky, in dem Buche, das «Die entschleierte Isis» sich betitelt. Natürlich erschraken alle diejenigen, die sich sagten: In diesem Buche steht eine ' ganze Summe von dem, was wir ja immer unter Schloß und Riegel gehalten haben. — Und diese Gesellschaften waren, ich möchte sagen, besser auf ihre Schlösser und Riegel bedacht als etwa unsere heutige Anthroposophische Gesellschaft.

In der Anthroposophischen Gesellschaft war durchaus nicht die Absicht, dasjenige, was in den Zyklen steht, ganz und gar zu sekretieren, sondern es wurde in einer bestimmten Zeit die Anforderung an mich gestellt, daß diejenigen Dinge, die ich sonst mündlich bespreche, einem größeren Kreis zugänglich sein sollen. Und da keine Zeit vorhanden war, diese Dinge zu redigieren, so ließ man sie eben als Manuskript in der Gestalt drucken, wie man sie sonst nicht veröffentlichen würde, nicht aber deshalb, weil man den Stoff nicht veröffentlichen wollte, sondern weil man den Stoff nicht in dieser Gestalt veröffentlichen wollte, und weil man schließlich auch darauf sehen wollte, daß diese Dinge von denen gelesen werden sollen, die die Vorbereitung dazu haben, weil sie sonst mißverstanden werden müssen. Trotzdem kann man sich heute jeden Zyklus verschaffen, wenn man ihn zu irgendeiner Gegnerschaft haben will. Diejenigen Gesellschaften, von denen ich hier spreche, und die ein gewisses Geistesgut unter Schloß und Riegel gehalten haben, den Leuten Fide abnahmen, damit sie nichts davon verraten, wußten schon die Dinge besser zu hüten. Sie wußten, daß etwas ganz Besonderes dahinter sein müsse, wenn plötzlich ein Buch kommt, welches nun wirklich etwas brachte, was Bedeutung hatte in dem angedeuteten Sinne. Die Dinge, die keine Bedeutung haben - ja, da brauchen Sie nur in Paris in eine Nebenstraße zu gehen, da können Sie korbweise die Schriften der Geheimgesellschaften kaufen. Aber von der Veröffentlichung dieser Schriften wird sich kein Schreck ergeben für diejenigen, die das traditionelle Wissen in den Geheimgesellschaften bewahrt haben, denn das sind in der Regel sehr wertlose Dinge, die da veröffentlicht werden.

Aber «Die entschleierte Isis» war nichts Wertloses. «Die entschleierte Isis» brachte tatsächlich aus einem gewissen Substantiellen heraus, so daß das mitgeteilte Wissen wie ein Ursprüngliches erschien, dasjenige, was eben von alter Weisheit bis dahin sorgfältig behütet worden war.

Wie gesagt, diejenigen, die da erschraken, mußten sich vorstellen, daß? da etwas Besonderes dahintersteckte, ein Verrat von irgendeiner Seite. Ich will jetzt in diesen Vorträgen nicht so stark die Innenseite der Sache betonen, was etwa an Tatsachen hinter den Kulissen dahintersteckt, das habe ich ja früher in anderen Vorträgen wiederholt einmal von diesem oder jenem Standpunkte aus besprochen, sondern ich möchte mehr die Außenseite berühren, mehr das Urteil der Welt charakterisieren, weil das gerade für die Geschichte der Bewegung wichtig ist. Das konnten ja die Leute wissen, daß da irgend jemand, der eingeweiht war in diese Dinge, der traditionelles Wissen überkommen hat, aus irgendeinem Grund, der nicht ein besonders guter zu sein brauchte, der Blavatsky Anregungen gegeben hat. Das konnte man sich ja sehr leicht sagen. Es würde das nicht weit von der Wahrheit abweichen, daß da irgendwo aus einer Geheimgesellschaft oder aus einer Summe von Geheimgesellschaften her ein Verrat geschehen ist, und dies dann gerade durch die Blavatsky veröffentlicht worden ist. Aber es hätte auch andere Wege gegeben, um solche Sachen an die Öffentlichkeit zu bringen, als sich einer Dame, wie die Blavatsky war, zu dieser Veröffentlichung zu bedienen.

Nun gab es aber einen Grund, den ich auch nur nach seiner AuRenseite charakterisieren will, sich gerade dieser Dame zu bedienen. Und hier komme ich auf ein Kapitel in unserer Geistesgeschichte, das wirklich ein sehr merkwürdiges ist. Dazumal, als die Blavatsky mit ihren Büchern auftrat, sprach man sehr, sehr wenig von dem, was heute in so vieler Munde ist: von Psychoanalyse. Aber diejenigen, die urteilsfähig berührt wurden von der charakterisierten merkwürdigen Tatsache, haben wahrhaftig lebendig etwas durchgemacht, gerade durch die Erscheinung von Blavatsky, wogegen alles dasjenige, was da von den verschiedenen Koryphäen der Psychoanalyse bisher geschrieben worden ist, wie ich mich neulich einmal in anderem Zusammenhange ausdrückte, wirklich der Dilettantismus im Quadrat ist. Denn was will denn die Psychoanalyse zeigen?

Dort, wo sie in gewissem Sinne im Rechte ist, zeigt sie, daß in den Untergründen des menschlichen Wesens erwas vorhanden ist, das, mag es nun da unten sein wie immer, ins Bewußtsein heraufgehoben werden kann und dann über dasjenige hinausgeht, was der Mensch zunächst in seinem Bewußtsein hat. So daß man also meinetwillen sagen kann: Im Körper steckt etwas, das, wenn es ins Bewußtsein heraufgehoben wird, sich als Geistiges ausnimmt. Der Körper wird durchrumort von Geistigem. Es ist natürlich das Primitivste, daß man als Psychiater irgendwelche Erlebnisreste auf diese Weise aus dem Untergrunde des menschlichen Wesens heraufholt, also Erlebnisreste, die nach den Emotionsbedürfnissen des betreffenden Menschen nicht ganz intensiv genug durchgemacht worden sind, die sich gewissermaßen hinuntergesetzt haben, Bodensatz gebildet haben im Menschen, ihn dadurch in ein labiles Gleichgewicht bringend, nicht in ein stabiles, und daß dasjenige, was während des Lebens eines Menschen sich zugetragen hat, dann, trotzdem es unten rumort im Unbewußten, heraufgehoben wird, und wenn es heraufgehoben wird ins Bewußtsein, sich als etwas Geistiges erweist, das eben nur sozusagen nicht recht hineinpaßt in dieses menschliche Wesen und daher unrichtig rumort, wenn es aber bewußt wird, abreagiert werden kann, und dadurch der Mensch von dem unrichtigen Rumoren gerade befreit wird.

Aber nun ist es ja interessant, wozu solch eine psychoanalytische dilettantische Forschung heute doch schon gekommen ist. Gerade bei Jung ist das ja sehr interessant. Der kommt darauf, daß der Mensch da unten - natürlich kann man nicht recht bezeichnen dieses da unten, es ist halt irgendwo da unten, ein unbestimmtes Wesen —, irgendwo in seinem Wesen dasjenige hat, was er als unverarbeitete Erlebnisse seit seiner Geburt eben durchgemacht hat; daß er da unten in seinem Menschenwesen allerlei hat, was zurückweist zu den Urvätern, ja, ganz zurückweisen kann durch alle Erlebnisse der Rassen und noch weiter. So erscheint es heute dem Psychiater gar nicht mehr unmöglich, daß zum Beispiel das, was, sagen wir als das Ödipus-Problem in Griechenland erfahren worden ist, auf die Menschen einen Eindruck gemacht hat. Dann habe sich das weiter vererbt, immer weiter. Und heute kommt so ein Unglückswurm in die Klinik des Psychiaters, der psychoanalysiert ihn und kriegt da etwas heraus, was so tief sitzt in dem Betreffenden, daß es nicht aus seinem gegenwärtigen Leben stammt, sondern von dem Vater, Vorvater, Vorvorvater und so weiter bis hinauf zu den alten Griechen, die das Ödipus-Problem erlebt haben. So ist es durchgegangen durch alles Blut und kann heute herauspsychoanalysiert werden. Da rumoren die Ödipus-Empfindungen in dem Menschen und können herauspsychoanalysiert werden. Man glaubt dann, sogar auf sehr interessante Zusammenhänge zu kommen, indem man dasjenige, was rassengemäß weit zurückgehen kann, herauspsychoanalysieren kann.

Nur, sehen Sie, sind das eben durchaus dilettantische Forschungsmethoden. Denn Sie brauchen nur ein wenig bewandert zu sein in der Anthroposophie, so wissen Sie, daß eben gar mancherlei aus den Untergründen des menschlichen Wesens herausgeholt werden kann: zunächst das vorgeburtliche Leben, das vorirdische Leben, dasjenige, was der Mensch durchgemacht hat, bevor er heruntergestiegen ist in die physische Welt, dann dasjenige, was er in früheren Erdenleben durchgemacht hat. Da kommt man vom Dilettantismus in die Wirklichkeit hinein!

Aber da kommt man auch dazu, zu erkennen, wie im Menschen gewissermaßen involviert, zusammengerollt, das ganze Weltgeheimnis enthalten ist. Das war auch schließlich die Anschauung älterer Zeiten, daß das Weltengeheimnis sich entrollt, wenn der Mensch alles dasjenige, was in seinem Inneren verborgen ist, aus seinem Inneren heraufholt. Deshalb hat man den Menschen einen Mikrokosmos genannt, nicht etwa des Firlefanzes wegen, den man heute so oft gebraucht, sondern weil tatsächlich die Erfahrung vorlag: Da kann aus dem Untergrund des Menschen alles mögliche heraufgeholt werden, was in den Weiten des Kosmos als Geheimnis liegt.

Es ist wirklich primitivster Dilettantismus, was man als Psychoanalyse heute antrifft. Denn es ist erstens psychologischer Dilettantismus: Man weiß nicht, daß in gewissen Untergründen physisches und geistiges Leben eins ist, sondern betrachtet in abstrakten Begriffen das an der Oberfläche schwimmende Seelenleben, kommt nicht bis zu jenen Untergründen, wo dieses Seelenleben schaffend, webend, wellend im Blut, in der Atmung lebt, also eins ist mit dem sogenannten materiellen Wirken. Man betrachtet das Seelenleben dilettantisch. Man betrachtet aber zweitens auch das physische Leben dilettantisch, indem man es bloß nach dem äußeren sinnlichen Anscheine betrachtet und nicht weiß, daß überall im sinnlichen Leben, vor allen Dingen in dem menschlichen Organismus, Geistiges steckt. Und wenn man zwei Dilettantismen so verwebt, daß der eine Dilettantismus den andern beleuchten soll, wie es die Psychoanalyse macht, dann addieren sich die Dilettantismen nicht bloß, sondern sie multiplizieren sich miteinander: es gibt einen Dilettantismus im Quadrat.

Nun, das, was eben als ein solcher Quadratdilettantismus zum Vorschein kommt, das konnte man gewissermaßen an dem psychologischen Problem Blavatsky sicher sehen. Da mag von irgendeiner Seite her durch irgendeinen Verrat eine Anregung gekommen sein. Diese Anregung hat wirklich so gewirkt, wie wenn — aber jetzt ein weiser, unsichtbarer Psychiater aus der Blavatsky, durch einen Anstoß nämlich, herausholte eine Unsumme von Wissen, das jetzt aus dem Menschen selber herausgekommen war, nicht aus alten Schriften, die traditionell überkommen waren von alten Zeiten. Da war aus dem Menschenwesen selber etwas zutage getreten, ich möchte sagen, durch den unsichtbaren Psychiater. Denn wenn es sich um einen Verräter gehandelt hat, so war der ja nicht der Psychiater, der hat nur den Anstoß gegeben. Aber es haben die Verhältnisse den Anstoß gegeben! Welche Verhältnisse?

Wenn Sie die Zeitentwickelung betrachten bis etwa in das 15. Jahrhundert, so können Sie finden, daß es wahrhaftig noch öfter vorkam, daß den Menschen, wenn sie durch irgend etwas angeregt waren — es brauchte bloß eine besonders charakteristische äußere Erscheinung zu sein -, dann aus ihrem Innern eine Offenbarung über Weltengeheimnisse aufstieg. Später wird das schon zu etwas sagenhaft Mystischem. Das, was erzählt wird von Jakob Böhme, daß er beim Anblick einer zinnernen Schüssel eine Offenbarung großartiger Art gehabt hat, das wird bewundert, weil man eben nicht weiß, daß das in früheren Zeiten bis in das 15. Jahrhundert herein noch überhaupt so war, daß aus dem Menschen eine verhältnismäßig scheinbar geringfügige Anregung ungeheure Offenbarungen über die Weltengeheimnisse herausholen konnte, die dann von dem Menschen geschaut worden sind.

Aber das ist ja immer mehr und mehr zurückgegangen, daß die Menschen auf solche Anregungen hin innere Offenbarungen haben können. Das rührt von dem Überhandnehmen des Intellektualismus her. Der Intellektualismus ist ja zusammenhängend mit einer ganz bestimmten Gehirnausbildung. Das Gehirn wird - wenn man das auch natürlich nicht im Äußeren anatomisch-physiologisch nachweisen kann, so kann man es aber doch geistig nachweisen gewissermaßen verkalkter, steifer. Und tatsächlich ist das Gehirn der Zivilisationsmenschen seit dem 15. Jahrhundert wesentlich steifer geworden. Dieses steife Gehirn läßt eben nicht die inneren Offenbarungen des Menschen an die Bewußtseinsoberfläche kommen.

Nun muß ich jetzt etwas außerordentlich Paradoxes sagen, aber wahr ist es eben doch: Die größere Steifigkeit des Gehirnes, selbstverständlich Ausnahmen auf der einen und der anderen Seite immer abgerechnet, trat bei den Männern auf, wobei ich das gar nicht sage, damit sich dieses oder jenes weibliche Gehirn besonders freuen soll, denn als dann die letzte Hälfte des 19. Jahrhunderts herankam, wurden schon auch die Frauengehirne genügend steif. Aber den Vorsprung in bezug auf die Intellektualität und die Steifigkeit der Gehirne hatten eben doch die Männer. Und das hängt zusammen mit dem Zurückgehen des Urteiles.

Nun, in der Zeit war es ja namentlich, wo Geheimhaltung von dem alten Wissen noch in starkem Maße gepflogen worden ist. Da stellte sich dann heraus: Den Männern tat dieses Wissen nicht viel an, denn sie lernten es auswendig, gradweise. Es tat ihnen nicht viel an, und sie hielten es ja unter Schloß und Riegel. Wenn aber einer in irgendeiner Weise dieses alte Wissen noch einmal zu einer besonderen Entfaltung bringen wollte, dann konnte er schon das besondere Experiment machen, dieses Wissen, das er vielleicht selber gar nicht einmal zu verstehen brauchte, nun in einer geringen Dosis einer Frau, deren Gehirn vielleicht noch gerade ganz besonders präpariert war — denn das Blavatsky-Gehirn war doch etwas anderes als andere Frauengehirne des 19. Jahrhunderts —, zu übergeben. Dann konnte das durch den Kontrast gegenüber alledem, was man sonst an Kultur hatte gerade in diesen Frauengehirnen, ich möchte sagen, Feuer fangen, was sonst vertrocknetes altes Wissen war, konnte, so wie der Psychiater durch diese oder jene Direktion den ganzen Menschen anregt, diese Persönlichkeit der Blavatsky anregen. Sie fand dann durch diese Anregung dasjenige aus sich heraus, was von der gesamten Menschheit, die nicht in Geheimgesellschaften war, überhaupt vergessen worden war, von den anderen, die in Geheimgesellschaften waren, sorgfältig unter Schloß und Riegel gehalten und zum großen Teil eben nicht verstanden worden ist. Das konnte auf diese Weise, ich möchte sagen, wie durch ein Kulturventil herauskommen.

Aber gleichzeitig war eben gar keine Grundlage da, daß das in einer vernünftigen Weise hätte verarbeitet werden können. Denn eine Logikerin war Frau Blavatsky ganz gewiß nicht. In der Logik wat sie außerordentlich schwach. Während sie tatsächlich aus ihrem gesamten Menschenwesen heraus Weltengeheimnisse offenbaren konnte, war sie eben nicht imstande, diese Dinge auch in einer Form, die sich vor dem wissenschaftlichen Gewissen der neueren Zeit verantworten läßt, darzustellen.

Jetzt denken Sie sich einmal: Wie sollte bei der Kurzmaschigkeit des Urteils, mit dem geistigen Erscheinungen da begegnet wurde, in richtiger Weise beachtet werden dasjenige, was ja erst, man möchte sagen, zwanzig Jahre danach ganz primitiv dilettantisch höchstens in der Psychoanalyse wieder hervorkam, aber auch nur auf einem außerordentlich kleinen Gebiete. Wie sollte in richtiger Weise beachtet werden das, was Erlebnis werden konnte von gigantischer Größe, zu dem sich einmal die Psychoanalyse, wenn sie geläutert, geklärt ist, wenn sie auf einen vernünftigen Boden gestellt ist, wirklich wissenschaftlich betrieben werden wird, erst erheben kann; wenn man nicht mehr aus dem Blut psychoanalysiert, das von Menschen, die das Ödipus-Problem miterlebt haben, herunterrinnt durch die Adern bis in unsere Generation herein, sondern wenn man die Weltenzusammenhänge wirklich versteht. Wie sollte man diesem Erlebnis, das einer heutigen entarteten psychoanalytischen Forschung, ich möchte sagen, ihr von aller Karikatur befreites großartiges, gigantisches Gegenbild zeigt, wie sollte man dem in einer Zeit, in der die Urteilsfähigkeit so beschaffen war, wie ich es Ihnen dargestellt habe, in genügendem Maße in weiteren Kreisen begegnen können? In dieser Beziehung konnte einem ja wirklich gar manches passieren mit Bezug auf die Auffassung, die einem dann entgegengebracht wurde in unserer Zeit, wenn man nur den Versuch machte, an ein etwas weitmaschigeres Urteil zu appellieren.

Ich möchte Ihnen da zur Illustration — diese Dinge sind notwendig, Sie werden schon sehen aus dem weiteren Verlauf der Vorträge, wie notwendig es ist, daß ich auch auf diese scheinbar ganz persönlichen Dinge eingehe - ein Beispiel erzählen, wie schwierig es in dieser neueren Zeit ist, sich überhaupt dann irgendwie verständlich zu machen, wenn man mit irgend etwas an ein weitmaschigeres, weitherzigeres Urteil appellieren will.

Es gab eine Zeit um die Jahrhundertwende, da wurden in Berlin, wo ich dazumal wohnte, Giordano Bruno-Vereinigungen begründet, unter anderem auch ein «Giordano Bruno-Bund». Es gab auch andere Giordano Bruno-Vereinigungen, aber es wurde ein «Giordano Bruno-Bund» begründet. Darinnen waren wirklich ausgezeichnete Menschen im Stil und Sinn der damaligen Zeit, Menschen, die schon ein gründliches Interesse hatten für dasjenige, für das man dazumal überhaupt Interesse aufbringen konnte, und für das man die ganze Richtung seiner Vorstellungs- und Empfindungs- und Willenswelt aufbringen konnte. Und sogar in jener abstrakten Weise, in der das auch in der neueren Zeit geschieht, wurde sogar in diesem Giordano Bruno-Bund auf den Geist hingewiesen. Eine bekannte Persönlichkeit dieses Giordano BrunoBundes leitete seine Begründung ein mit einem Vortrage: «Materie nie ohne Geist». — Aber das alles war so aussichtslos, denn dieser Geist und das, was da gepflegt worden ist, das war im Grunde genommen etwas ganz Abstraktes, was an eine Wirklichkeit der Welt gar nicht herankommen konnte. Die Denkweise war etwas furchtbar Abstraktes. Besonders aber kam es mir sehr ärgerlich vor, daß die Leute da alle Augenblicke, wo es nur irgendwie möglich war, das Wort Monismus anbrachten. Man müsse dem einzig vernünftgen, menschheitsgemäßen Monismus huldigen, und der Dualismus, der sei etwas Abgetanes. Dann wurde namentlich immer darauf hingewiesen, wie man sich in der neueren Zeit aus dem mittelalterlichen Dualismus herausgewunden habe.

Das waren Dinge, die ich dazumal außerordentlich ärgerlich fand. Ich fand eben ärgerlich dieses Schwafeln über den Monismus und dieses dilettantische Ablehnen eines Dualismus, ich fand ärgerlich das Reden über den Geist so im allgemeinen, pantheistisch, daß, nun ja: daß halt überall auch Geist ist. Es blieb dann nichts zurück als das Wort vom Geiste. Das alles fand ich ziemlich ärgerlich. Eigentlich geriet ich schon, nachdem der erste Vortrag über «Materie nie ohne Geist» gehalten worden war, mit demjenigen, der den Vortrag gehalten hat, aneinander, was mir dazumal schon außerordentlich übelgenommen worden ist. Aber dann setzte sich dieses ganze monistische Treiben fort und wurde mir immer ärgerlicher, interessant, aber ärgerlich, und da beschloß ich denn einmal, die Leute an einem Zipfel anzufassen, wodurch ich wenigstens meinte, ihre Urteilskraft in einige Bewegung zu bringen. Und da schon durch eine ganze Serie von Vorträgen die Tiraden über das finstere Mittelalter, über die schreckliche dualistische Scholastik gegangen waren, so beschloß ich — es war in der Zeit, von der man jetzt gerade von mir erzählt, daß ich ein wütender Haeckelianer gewesen sein soll —, einmal etwas zu tun, wodurch das Urteil hätte etwas durcheinandergerüttelt sein sollen. Da hielt ich einen Vortrag über Thomas von Aquino und sagte, indem ich jetzt dasjenige, was ich dazumal ausführlich darlegte, in ein paar Sätze zusammenfasse, ungefähr das Folgende: Es habe gar keine Berechtigung, in bezug auf die Ideen des vergangenen Geisteslebens, von dem finsteren Mittelalter, namentlich von dem Dualismus der Thomistik und der Scholastik zu sprechen. Denn wenn man immerfort das Schlagwort Monismus gebraucht, so wolle ich beweisen, daß Thomas von Aquino ein richtiger Monist gewesen sei. Nur müsse man dann nicht bloß dasjenige, was in der Gegenwart als materialistischer Monismus aufgefaßt wird, allein Monismus nennen, sondern man müsse denjenigen einen Monisten nennen, der das Weltenprinzip in einem Monon, in einer Einheit sehe. So sagte ich: das habe ganz gewiß Thomas von Aquino getan, denn er habe selbstverständlich in dem einheitlichen Göttlichen das Monon gesehen, das zugrunde liegt allem, was in der Welt als Schöpfung vorhanden ist. Da liegt, sagte ich, der reinste Monismus zugrunde. Nur habe er, nach Maßgabe des damaligen Zeitalters, unterschieden, daß man die eine Hälfte durch gewöhnliche menschliche Sinneserkenntnis und Verstandeserkenntnis erfassen könne, die andere durch eine Art von Erkenntnis, die dazumal Glaube genannt worden ist. Aber was die Scholastik noch als Glaube verstand, verstehe die gegenwärtige Menschheit gar nicht. So müsse man, sagte ich, sich klar darüber sein, daß zwar Thomas von Aquino gewollt hat, auf der einen Seite durch Sinnesforschungen und Verstandeserkenntnis sich der Welt zu nähern, daß er aber auf der anderen Seite durch die Offenbarungswahrheiten diese Verstandeserkenntnis habe ergänzen wollen. Aber dadurch habe er gerade zu dem Monon der Welt vordringen wollen. Er habe nur auf zwei Wegen vorgehen wollen. Das Schlimme wäre für die Gegenwart, sagte ich, daß diese Gegenwart nicht genug weitherzige Begriffe habe, um sich etwas in der Geschichte auszukennen.

Kurz, ich wollte den vertrockneten Gehirnen zu einiger Feuchtigkeit verhelfen. Aber es war vergeblich. Denn es hatte eine ganz außerordentlich merkwürdige Wirkung. Die Leute wußten überhaupt zunächst nichts anzufangen mit der Sache. Es waren lauter evangelische Protestanten, und sie fanden: Jetzt soll der Katholizismus eingeschmuggelt werden! Sie fanden, es soll der Katholizismus in Schutz genommen werden mit seinem schrecklichen Dualismus. Es ist ja fürchterlich, sagten sie, wir geben uns alle Mühe, dem Katholizismus den letzten Schlag zu versetzen, und da kommt nun ein Mitglied dieses selben Giordano Bruno-Bundes und nimmt den Katholizismus in Schutz!

Wirklich, die Leute wußten dazumal nicht, ob ich nicht über Nacht verrückt geworden bin, als ich diesen Vortrag gehalten habe. Sie wußten gar nichts daraus zu machen. Und es waren eigentlich die erleuchtetsten Köpfe damals. Es fand sich eigentlich nur einer, der dann als eine Art Apologet aufgetreten ist. Das war der Dichter Wolfgang Kirchbach. Das war der einzige, der dann die Formel ersonnen hat, unter der der Vortrag im Giordano Bruno-Bund Heimatrecht haben könne. Und diese Formel hatte er in folgender Weise ersonnen. Er sagte: Ja, der Steiner hat ja nicht den Katholizismus einschmuggeln wollen, sondern er hat zeigen wollen, daß in jener alten scholastischen Weisheit des Katholizismus etwas viel Bedeutenderes noch steckt als dasjenige, was wir selber heute als unsere oberflächlichen Begriffe haben. Das hat er zeigen wollen. Er hat uns zeigen wollen, daß der Katholizismus deshalb ein so starker Feind ist, weil wir so schwache Gegner sind, daß wir stärkere Waffen uns anschaffen sollen. Das hat er zeigen wollen mit seinem Vortrag. — Das war die einzige Formel, unter der dann dieser Vortrag bei einem Drittel, bei der Minorität, so weit Heimatrecht gekriegt hat, daß ich wenigstens nicht ausgeschlossen wurde aus dem Giordano Bruno-Bund. Aber bei der Majorität galt ich als ein Mensch, der durch den Katholizismus verwirrt gemacht worden ist.

Nun sehen Sie, daß ist so eine Episode aus jener Zeit, von der man jetzt sagt, daß ich ein wütender Haeckelianer gewesen bin. Man machte aber durch solche Dinge die Erfahrung über die Urteilsfähigkeit, namentlich über die Weitherzigkeit des Urteils, die demjenigen entgegengebracht worden sind, was vor allen Dingen nicht auf theoretische Formeln ging, sondern was darauf ging, den Weg zum Geistigen wirklich anzutreten, wirklich hineinzukommen in die geistige Welt.

Denn dieses Hineinkommen in die geistige Welt hängt ja nicht davon ab, ob man diese oder jene Theorie über Geist oder Materie hat, sondern ob man ein wirkliches Erlebnis von der geistigen Welt herbeizuführen in der Lage ist. Ich habe es oftmals schon betont, die Spiritisten glauben ganz sicher, daß sie alles auf den Geist hin treiben, aber ihre Theorien sind doch so geistlos. Sie führen ganz gewiß den Menschen nicht zum Geiste hin. Man kann sogar Materialist sein und viel Geist haben. Das ist doch auch realer Geist, wenn er auch im Irrtum begriffen ist. Natürlich braucht man den sich verirrenden Geist nicht als irgend etwas Wertvolles hinzustellen, aber der sich verirrende Geist, der Geist, der sich betrügt dadurch, daß er die Materie für das Alleinwirkliche hält, kann noch immer geistvoller sein als jene Geistlosigkeit, welche auf materielle Weise den Geist sucht, weil sie gar keinen Geist überhaupt in sich selber finden kann.

Man muß also, wenn man zu jenen Ausgangspunkten zurückblickt, die man richtig erfassen muß, wenn man den ganzen Sinn und die Lebensbedingungen der Bewegung verstehen will, auf der einen Seite wissen, wie zunächst außerordentlich problematisch, wenn ich mich des Ausdrucks bedienen darf, im letzten Drittel des 19. Jahrhunderts die Offenbarungen der geistigen Welt in die Erdenwelt hereintraten, und wie wenig reif das allgemeine Urteil war, diese geistigen Offenbarungen aufzunehmen, und wie groß vor allen Dingen der Wille ganz bestimmter Kreise war, nur ja nichts, was wirklich zum Geiste hinführt, unter die Leute kommen zu lassen. Es ist ganz zweifellos, daß für sehr viele durchaus ernstzunehmende Menschen die Erscheinung der Blavatsky anregend wirken mußte. Das hat sie ja auch zunächst getan. Die Leute haben so gestanden, die noch etwas Urteil sich bewahrt haben, daß sie sich gesagt haben: Da ist doch etwas, was durch sich selber eben spricht. Es ist merkwürdig, wie es gerade jetzt in die Welt gekommen ist, aber es ist etwas, was durch sich selber spricht. Man braucht nur gesunden Menschenverstand anzuwenden, dann spricht es durch sich selber. Aber es waren eben viele Menschen da, die ein Interesse daran hatten, gerade so etwas nun ja nicht als Anregungen in die Welt hineinfließen zu lassen.

Nun war es da, war da in einer Persönlichkeit wie der Blavatsky, die in einem gewissen Sinne doch wieder naiv und hilflos ihrer eigenen inneren Offenbarung gegenüberstand. Das zeigt schon der Stil ihrer Werke. So war es da, so stand sie selbst dazu, naiv und hilflos in einer gewissen Weise, und hingegeben vielem, was in ihrer Umgebung auftrat. Ja, glauben Sie denn, daß es da besonders schwierig war — besonders bei H.P. Blavatsky war es nicht sehr schwierig -, daß sich Leute, die nun die Welt so präparieren wollten, daß sie nur ja nichts annehmen sollte von irgendwelcher Geistigkeit, sich an die Blavatsky heranmachten, ihre Umgebung bildeten? Weil sie so naiv und hilflos ihren eigenen inneren Offenbarungen gegenüberstand, war sie ja leichtgläubig in einer gewissen Weise. Es brauchte zum Beispiel die Sache mit der Schiebetüre, durch die scheinbare Meisterbriefe hereingeschoben worden waren — die aber draußen irgendeiner, wie der... oder sonst irgendeiner schrieb und hereingeschoben hat — durchaus nicht darauf zu beruhen, daß H.P. Blavatsky dem... . zuerst gesagt hat: Schiebe da solche Briefe herein -, sondern sie war in einer gewissen Weise doch wieder naiv, glaubte selbst an solche Briefe. Derjenige, der sie hereingeschoben hat, der täuschte die Blavatsky samt der Welt. Dann konnte man natürlich sehr leicht vor der Welt sagen: Das ist eine Schwindlerin. Aber verstehen Sie denn nicht, meine lieben Freunde, daß man die Blavatsky selber beschwindelt haben könnte? Denn eine gewisse außerordentliche Leichtgläubigkeit war gerade infolge ihrer besonderen, ich will sagen, Nichtverhärtetheit ihres Gehirnes in ihr vorhanden. Also das Problem liegt außerordentlich kompliziert und erfordert wie alles, was in unserer Zeit an wirklicher Geistigkeit in die Welt hereintritt, Urteilsfähigkeit, fordert schon gesunden Menschenverstand. Es ist nicht gerade gesunder Menschenverstand, wenn man Adalbert Stifter zunächst nicht einmal für fähig hält, Lehrer zu werden, und nachher - es ist in diesem Falle auch eine Frau gewesen, wahrscheinlich war es auch eine noch mit einem weicheren Gehirn, als alle jene Referenten in den Ministerien es hatten, oder in den Schulkommissionen -, als von dieser Seite her ein Wink kam: dann fand man ihn geeignet, alle diejenigen zu inspizieren, von denen er nicht einmal ein einzelner sein durfte.

Um auch da das Richtige zu sehen, dazu gehört eben schon gesunder Menschenverstand. Aber über diesen gesunden Menschenverstand gibt es eigenartige Urteile. Ich habe, als ich einen größeren Vortragszyklus im vorigen Jahre in Deutschland hielt, öfter das Wort gebraucht vom gesunden Menschenverstand und habe gesagt: Dasjenige, was Anthroposophie aus der geistigen Welt heraus zu sagen hat, könne geprüft werden mit dem gesunden Menschenverstand. Einer der Kritiker, der nicht einmal der schlechteste war, hat sogar das aufgegriffen und folgendes gefunden. Er sagte fast wörtlich: Ja, das wäre so eine Art von Gimpelfang, vom gesunden Menschenverstand zu sprechen: denn jeder, der heute ein wissenschaftlich durchgebildeter Mensch ist, weiß ja, daß der Menschenverstand, der gesund ist, fast gar nichts erkennt, und derjenige, der glaubt, etwas zu erkennen, der ist nicht gesund. — Das war der Inhalt eines gar nicht einmal ungeistreich geschriebenen kritischen Urteiles.

Also, übersetzt man es mehr ins Populäre, so heißt das: Wenn einer heute, nachdem entsprechend viele Fortschritte der Menschheit geschehen sind, gescheit ist, so weiß er, daß man nichts erkennt; wenn er glaubt, etwas zu erkennen, so ist er verrückt. Bei dieser Art Entgegennahme des Geistigen sind wir ja schon angekommen.

Indem ich Ihnen so einiges hingestellt habe aus der Zeit vor dem Beginn der anthroposophischen Bewegung in bezug auf die Auffassungsfähigkeit einer geistigen Offenbarung, und indem ich Ihnen jetzt hingestellt habe das Urteil eines immerhin maßgeblichen Kritikers aus dem vorigen Jahre erst, sehen Sie ungefähr, wie diese Zeitverfassung die ganze Bewegung verfolgt hat. Denn eigentlich mußte ja aus einer solchen Zeitatmosphäre heraus — namentlich da eine so schwer zu begreifende Persönlichkeit wie die Blavatsky doch noch da war, auf die man hinweisen konnte - einfach das Urteil entstehen, das heute im Grunde genommen nur in den verschiedensten Variationen wiederholt wird, nur daß der eine so, der andere anders sagt: Wer heute gescheit ist, gesunden Menschenverstand hat, der sagt «Ignorabimus», wer nicht sagt «Ignorabimus», der ist entweder verrückt oder ein Schwindler.

Das muß man nicht nur begreifen als irgend etwas Böswilliges. Damit man sich richtig in die Zeit hineinzustellen vermag, damit man einige der Lebensbedingungen der anthroposophischen Bewegung einsehen kann, muß man das nicht bloß als die Böswilligkeit einzelner erkennen, sondern man muß es als etwas ansehen, was zum Zeitkolorit gehört in allen Ländern, bei der ganzen gegenwärtigen Menschheit. Man muß es als solches durchschauen. Dann wird man allerdings in die ganze Stellung, die man sich gibt, die man sich aber kraft- und mutvoll geben sollte, auch das hineinmischen können, was, wenn man vom anthroposophischen Gesichtspunkte über die Zeit spricht, doch drinnen sein muß in allen wenn auch noch so scharfen, seelisch scharfen Zurückweisungen der Gegner: Mitleid. Man muß dennoch Mitleid haben, weil das Zeiturteil benebelt ist.

Wie es nun eben der anthroposophischen Bewegung ging und gehen mußte, weil die Dinge so liegen, davon wollen wir dann morgen weiter sprechen.

Third Lecture

In order to describe the history of the social associations with which the Anthroposophical Society is connected in a certain way, albeit one that is often misunderstood today, I had to refer yesterday to the figure of A. P. Blavatsky. I have already attempted to indicate how this personality entered into the spiritual life of the late 19th century. I had to refer to this personality because, after all, it was Blavatsky's works that gave rise to the association of people whom I summarized the day before yesterday under the name of homeless souls at the end of the 19th century.

Even though Blavatsky's works really have little to do with what emerged as anthroposophy, I would like to describe not only the historical aspects of the anthroposophical movement in these lectures, but also characterize the social aspects that we see in the anthroposophical movement today. And for this, starting points such as those I have chosen for these two days are necessary.

Now, of course, it is very easy today to dismiss everything that can be said about Blavatsky – if one wants to criticize spiritual endeavors such as those that emerged, for example, in the Theosophical Society. it is very easy to dismiss a phenomenon such as Blavatsky by pointing out how problematic some aspects of her biography are.

I could list many such things. I need only point out how, within the society that joined Blavatsky's spiritual life, the view arose that certain insights into the spiritual world had come about through physical letters, physical manifestations, that is, things written down on paper, coming from a source that does not lie within the physical world. Such documents were called “master letters”; they were pointed out and said to have been written in an unusual way, or at least to have arrived at the place where they were produced in an unusual way. It was quite a sensational story when, in the house where such letters had been presented under the leadership of H.P. Blavatsky, all kinds of deceptively constructed sliding doors could be shown, through which such letters could simply be slid in an ordinary physical but deceptive manner into the room where they were then found as magic letters, and so on.

It is, of course, extremely easy for contemporaries to point to these things and then find it true that a personality such as Blavatsky can simply be dismissed with the words that she was a fraud. Well, we will have more to say about this side of the phenomena that took place around Blavatsky. But one can also take a different point of view, namely that one should not concern oneself with everything that happened externally.

Certainly, objections will be raised. But let us disregard these objections for now. One does not concern oneself with everything that happened externally, but simply looks at the works. Then one will come to the conclusion that I have described to you these days, the conclusion that Blavatsky's works are often amateurish, chaotic stuff that has been written into them, but that there are things in them which, if examined with the right means, can certainly be understood as representations of far-reaching insights into the spiritual world or from the spiritual world, which have come about in some way. This cannot be denied, despite all the objections that are made.

This raises what I believe to be an extremely important and significant question of cultural history: What is the basis for the fact that at the end of the 19th century, let us say, initially from a problematic side, manifestations from a spiritual world, revelations about a spiritual world, could come about which, at least when used as stimuli to investigate how they relate to us, also deserve the most thorough attention from an objective spiritual-scientific point of view? Revelations that say more about the fundamental laws of the world, about the fundamental forces of the world, than anything that has been brought to light about the mysteries of the world through philosophy or other worldviews in recent times. This must surely strike us as a significant question.

This is contrasted by another cultural-historical phenomenon that must not be forgotten when discussing the conditions of life of something like the Anthroposophical Society in connection with efforts to find ways to the spiritual world. This cultural-historical phenomenon is that the ability to judge, the persuasiveness of judgment, has suffered greatly in our time and has declined.

In this regard, we allow ourselves to be deceived by the great progress that has been made. But precisely when we consider this great progress that has been made today in connection with the course of spiritual life, insofar as individual human personalities as discerning personalities place themselves in this course of spiritual life, then we I would say, a background for the capacity with which our age confronts phenomena that appeal to people's powers of judgment.

There is really so much to mention. I would like to pick out just a few examples. For example, I ask those who are experts or even just amateurs in electrical engineering what Ohm's law means for electrical engineering today. The answer, of course, is that Ohm's law forms one of the foundations for the development of electrical engineering as a whole. — When Ohm had completed the first work that was fundamental to what later became known as Ohm's law, this work was rejected as useless by a famous philosophy department at a university. If it had been up to this philosophy department, there would be no electrical engineering today.

Then something that may be even more tangible to you: you all know what the telephone means in our cultural life today. When Reis, who was outside the official scientific community, first wrote down the idea of the telephone and submitted the manuscript to one of the most famous journals of the time, the Poggendorff Annals, the work was rejected as useless. You see, that is how powerful the judgment of people is, and one could multiply these examples ad infinitum. Yes, that is how powerful judgment is in our time! One must simply face these things with complete objectivity.

One need only pick up anything, I would say, at the pinnacle of our culture, and one will find something similar everywhere. Or if one goes more into the hidden corners, one sometimes finds cute phenomena that characterize the judgmental capacity of those who set the tone today with regard to, say, the administration of intellectual life. And the public, the general public, which follows the broad path – I spoke about this the day before yesterday – is completely under the influence of what is recognized in this way today. Well, culture belongs to all countries; it is no better or worse in any country.

Take this example: Adalbert Stifter is a very important poet, but I don't want to go into his significance as a poet right now; instead, I want to tell you something about his life. He did very well in high school, then studied natural sciences and wanted to become a high school teacher. However, he was found to be completely unsuitable for the job, deemed to lack the necessary talent. The authorities decided that he was not talented enough to be a high school teacher. Now, strangely enough, a certain Baroness Mink, who had no authority whatsoever to judge the abilities of high school teachers, heard about the poet Adalbert Stifter, had him read to her what he had already written at that time and what he himself did not particularly value, and virtually forced him to publish it. This immediately caused a great stir. The authorities now said: We can't find anyone better to be the school inspector for the whole country. And so the man who, only a short time before, had been considered unfit to be a teacher was appointed chief supervisor of all these teachers!

It would be extremely interesting to describe these things in context in the most diverse areas of intellectual life, starting with a phenomenon such as the one I have just described in Adalbert Stifter's case, and ending with, well, a phenomenon such as that of Julius Robert Mayer. You know, I even have to fight the law of conservation of energy, which is linked to his name, in certain areas. But contemporary physics does not oppose it, but rather defends it in every chapter; it is entirely based on this law of conservation of energy. Julius Robert Mayer, who is regarded as a hero today—I have already mentioned others, such as Gregor Mendel, who experienced a similar fate— Julius Robert Mayer, who was born in Heilbronn am Neckar, was always last in his class and was even advised by the university he then attended—it was in Tübingen—to leave the university one fine day because of his performance. It is by no means thanks to the university that he made his discoveries, because they wanted to expel him before he had taken his exams and could become a doctor. From such things to the tremendous tragedy associated with the name Semmelweis, the personality who deserves enormous credit for reducing childbed fever to a minimum today, which before Semmelweis's appearance simply carried people off, to the tremendous tragedy of Semmelweis, which ultimately led to Semmelweis ended up in an insane asylum, similar to Julius Robert Mayer, even though he is one of the greatest benefactors of humanity, it would be interesting to describe these things in context. If one were to summarize all this, one would obtain an extraordinarily important element in the cultural history of recent times, from which one could see how little impact this period of external progress had on the ability to judge spiritual phenomena, how little inclination there actually was to respond to what appeared on the horizon of spiritual life.

Such things must be taken into account if one wants to properly understand the hostile forces opposing the intervention of a spiritual movement. One will then need to know what capacity for judgment actually exists in our present age, which is so arrogant precisely because of its lack of judgment.

It is indeed a truly extraordinary phenomenon that what has otherwise only been preserved traditionally in all kinds of secret societies, which did not want it to become public knowledge, suddenly appears to a large extent, published in the book by a woman, Blavatsky, in the book entitled “Isis Unveiled.” Of course, all those who said to themselves: “This book contains a whole lot of what we have always kept under lock and key” were alarmed. And these societies were, I would say, more concerned with their locks and keys than, for example, our present-day Anthroposophical Society.

The Anthroposophical Society had no intention of keeping what is in the cycles completely secret, but at a certain point in time, I was asked to make the things I usually discuss orally accessible to a wider circle. And since there was no time to edit these things, they were simply printed as manuscripts in a form that would not otherwise have been published, not because the material was not wanted to be published, but because it was not wanted to be published in this form, and because it was ultimately also wanted to ensure that these things would be read by those who were prepared for them, because otherwise they would be misunderstood. Nevertheless, today one can obtain any cycle if one wants to oppose it in some way. The societies I am talking about here, which kept certain intellectual property under lock and key, took Fide away from people so that they would not reveal anything about it, knew how to guard things better. They knew that there must be something very special behind it when a book suddenly appeared that really brought something that was significant in the sense indicated. The things that have no significance – well, you only need to go to a side street in Paris, where you can buy the writings of the secret societies by the basketful. But the publication of these writings will not cause any alarm to those who have preserved the traditional knowledge in the secret societies, for what is published there is usually very worthless.

But “Isis Unveiled” was not worthless. “Isis Unveiled” actually brought out something substantial, so that the knowledge communicated appeared to be original, that which had been carefully guarded by ancient wisdom until then.

As I said, those who were alarmed had to imagine that there was something special behind it, a betrayal from some quarter. In these lectures, I do not want to emphasize the inner side of the matter so much, what lies behind the scenes, so to speak. I have already discussed this repeatedly in other lectures from this or that point of view. Instead, I would like to touch more on the outer side, to characterize more the judgment of the world, because that is particularly important for the history of the movement. People could know that someone who was initiated into these things, who had inherited traditional knowledge, for some reason, which did not have to be a particularly good one, had given Blavatsky suggestions. That was very easy to say. It would not be far from the truth to say that somewhere, in a secret society or a group of secret societies, a betrayal had taken place, and that this had then been made public by Blavatsky. But there would have been other ways of bringing such things to the public's attention than to use a lady like Blavatsky for this publication.

However, there was a reason, which I will characterize only from its outward appearance, for making use of this particular lady. And here I come to a chapter in our spiritual history that is truly very remarkable. At the time when Blavatsky appeared with her books, very little was said about what is on so many people's lips today: psychoanalysis. But those who were touched by the strange fact I have described, and who were capable of judgment, truly experienced something alive, precisely through the appearance of Blavatsky, whereas everything that has been written so far by the various luminaries of psychoanalysis is, as I recently expressed myself in another context, really dilettantism squared. For what does psychoanalysis seek to demonstrate?

Where it is right in a certain sense, it shows that there is something in the depths of the human being which, whatever it may be down there, can be brought up into consciousness and then goes beyond what the human being initially has in his consciousness. So that one can say, for my sake: there is something in the body which, when brought up into consciousness, appears as spiritual. The body is permeated by the spiritual. It is, of course, most primitive for a psychiatrist to bring up in this way any remnants of experience from the depths of the human being, i.e., remnants of experience that have not been lived through intensely enough according to the emotional needs of the person concerned, that have, so to speak, settled down, formed a sediment in the person, thereby bringing them into an unstable equilibrium rather than a stable one, and that what has happened during a person's life is then, even though it is rumbling around in the unconscious, is brought up, and when it is brought up into consciousness, it proves to be something spiritual that just doesn't quite fit into this human being, so to speak, and therefore rumbles incorrectly, but when it becomes conscious, it can be worked off, and through this the person is freed from the incorrect rumbling.

But now it is interesting to see what such amateurish psychoanalytic research has already achieved today. This is particularly interesting in Jung's case. He comes to the conclusion that human beings have something down there — of course, it is difficult to describe this something down there, it's just somewhere down there, an undefined being — somewhere in his being, he has what he has gone through as unprocessed experiences since his birth; that he has all kinds of things down there in his human being that refer back to the forefathers, yes, that can refer back through all the experiences of the races and even further. So today it no longer seems impossible to psychiatrists that, for example, what we might call the Oedipus problem experienced in Greece made an impression on people. Then it was passed on, further and further. And today, such an unlucky soul comes to the psychiatrist's clinic, who psychoanalyzes him and finds something that is so deeply rooted in the person concerned that it does not originate from his present life, but from his father, forefather, great-grandfather, and so on, all the way back to the ancient Greeks who experienced the Oedipus problem. So it has passed through all the blood and can now be psychoanalyzed. The Oedipus feelings rumble in the person and can be psychoanalyzed. One then believes that one can even come up with very interesting connections by psychoanalyzing what can go back a long way in terms of race.

But you see, these are thoroughly amateurish research methods. For if you are even slightly versed in anthroposophy, you know that many things can be brought out from the depths of the human being: first of all, pre-birth life, pre-earthly life, what the human being went through before descending into the physical world, then what he went through in earlier earth lives. This is where you move from dilettantism into reality!

But then one also comes to recognize how, in a sense, the whole mystery of the world is involved, rolled up, contained within the human being. This was also the view of earlier times, that the mystery of the world unfolds when the human being brings forth from within himself all that is hidden within him. That is why human beings were called a microcosm, not for the sake of the frills that are so often used today, but because the experience was actually there: from the depths of human beings, all kinds of things can be brought up that lie as secrets in the vastness of the cosmos.

What we encounter today as psychoanalysis is really the most primitive dilettantism. For, first of all, it is psychological dilettantism: one does not know that in certain depths physical and spiritual life are one, but rather considers in abstract terms the soul life floating on the surface, not reaching those depths where this soul life lives creatively, weaving, undulating in the blood, in the breath, that is, is one with the so-called material activity. One views the life of the soul in a dilettantish manner. Secondly, however, one also views physical life in a dilettantish manner, in that one considers it merely according to its external sensory appearance and does not know that everywhere in sensory life, above all in the human organism, there is something spiritual. And when two forms of dilettantism are interwoven in such a way that one dilettantism is supposed to illuminate the other, as psychoanalysis does, then the dilettantisms do not merely add up, but multiply with each other: there is a dilettantism squared.

Well, what emerges as such a square of dilettantism could certainly be seen, in a sense, in the psychological problem of Blavatsky. Some kind of stimulus may have come from somewhere through some kind of betrayal. This stimulus really had the effect of — but now a wise, invisible psychiatrist brought out of Blavatsky, through a stimulus, a vast amount of knowledge that now came out of the human being herself, not from ancient writings that had been traditionally handed down from ancient times. Something had emerged from the human being himself, I would say, through the invisible psychiatrist. For if it was a traitor, he was not the psychiatrist, he only gave the impetus. But it was the circumstances that gave the impetus! What circumstances?

If you look at the development of time up to about the 15th century, you will find that it was indeed still common for people, when stimulated by something — it only needed to be a particularly characteristic external appearance — to have a revelation about the secrets of the world arise from within them. Later, this became something legendary and mystical. What is told about Jakob Böhme, that he had a magnificent revelation when he saw a pewter bowl, is admired because people do not know that in earlier times, up until the 15th century, it was still the case that a relatively insignificant stimulus could elicit tremendous revelations about the secrets of the world from human beings, which were then seen by them.

But the ability of people to have inner revelations in response to such stimuli has declined more and more. This is due to the prevalence of intellectualism. Intellectualism is connected with a very specific brain development. The brain becomes—even if this cannot be proven anatomically or physiologically on the outside—more calcified, more rigid, in a spiritual sense. And in fact, the brains of civilized people have become significantly more rigid since the 15th century. This rigid brain does not allow the inner revelations of human beings to rise to the surface of consciousness.

Now I have to say something extremely paradoxical, but it is nevertheless true: The greater rigidity of the brain, with exceptions on both sides, of course, occurred in men, although I am not saying this to make this or that female brain particularly happy, because by the latter half of the 19th century, women's brains had also become sufficiently rigid. But men still had the edge in terms of intellectuality and brain rigidity. And that is related to the decline in judgment.

Well, at that time, secrecy about ancient knowledge was still practiced to a great extent. It then turned out that this knowledge did not affect men much, because they learned it by heart, step by step. It did not affect them much, and they kept it under lock and key. But if someone wanted to develop this ancient knowledge in some special way, they could conduct a special experiment, using this knowledge, which they might not even need to understand themselves, in a small dose to a woman whose brain was perhaps still particularly well prepared — for Blavatsky's brain was somewhat different from other women's brains of the 19th century. Then, through the contrast with everything else that was otherwise present in the culture, especially in these women's brains, I would say that what was otherwise dried-up old knowledge could catch fire and stimulate Blavatsky's personality, just as a psychiatrist stimulates the whole person through this or that direction. Through this stimulation, she then found within herself what had been completely forgotten by the whole of humanity that was not in secret societies, carefully kept under lock and key by those who were in secret societies, and for the most part not understood. In this way, I would say, it could come out like through a cultural valve.

But at the same time, there was no basis for this to be processed in a reasonable way. For Mrs. Blavatsky was certainly not a logician. She was extremely weak in logic. While she was indeed able to reveal the secrets of the world from her entire human being, she was simply not able to present these things in a form that could be justified before the scientific conscience of modern times.

Now think about this: given the short-sightedness of the judgment with which spiritual phenomena were met, how could one properly take into account what, one might say, only twenty years later emerged in a very primitive, amateurish way, at most in psychoanalysis, but even then only in an extremely small area? How could proper attention be paid to what could become an experience of gigantic proportions, which psychoanalysis, once it has been purified and clarified, once it has been placed on a reasonable footing, will be able to truly pursue scientifically; when psychoanalysis is no longer based on the blood that flows through the veins of people who have experienced the Oedipus problem down to our generation, but when the connections between the worlds are truly understood. How could one encounter this experience, which shows a magnificent, gigantic counter-image of today's degenerate psychoanalytic research, freed from all caricature, how could one encounter it sufficiently in wider circles at a time when the capacity for judgment was as I have described to you? In this regard, many things could happen to one in relation to the opinion that was then held of one in our time, if one only attempted to appeal to a somewhat broader judgment.

To illustrate this—these things are necessary, as you will see from the further course of the lectures, how necessary it is for me to go into these seemingly very personal matters—I would like to give you an example of how difficult it is in these more recent times to make oneself understood at all when one wants to appeal to a broader, more open-minded judgment.

There was a time around the turn of the century when Giordano Bruno associations were founded in Berlin, where I lived at the time, including a “Giordano Bruno League.” There were other Giordano Bruno associations, but a “Giordano Bruno League” was founded. It included truly outstanding people in the style and spirit of the time, people who already had a profound interest in what one could be interested in at that time, and to which one could devote the whole direction of one's imagination, feelings, and will. And even in that abstract way in which this also happens in more recent times, even in this Giordano Bruno Association, reference was made to the spirit. A well-known personality of this Giordano Bruno Association introduced its founding with a lecture: “Matter never without spirit.” — But all this was so hopeless, because this spirit and what was cultivated there was, in essence, something completely abstract that could not possibly approach the reality of the world. The way of thinking was terribly abstract. But what I found particularly annoying was that people used the word monism at every opportunity, whenever it was possible. One had to pay homage to the only reasonable, humane monism, and dualism was something that had been discarded. Then it was always pointed out how, in modern times, we had extricated ourselves from medieval dualism.

These were things that I found extremely annoying at the time. I found this rambling about monism and this amateurish rejection of dualism annoying, and I found the talk about the spirit in such general, pantheistic terms annoying, that, well, spirit is everywhere. Nothing remained but the word “spirit.” I found all of this quite annoying. Actually, after the first lecture on “Matter Never Without Spirit” had been given, I got into an argument with the person who gave the lecture, which was taken extremely badly at the time. But then all this monistic activity continued and became more and more annoying to me, interesting, but annoying, and so I decided to grab people by the scruff of the neck, in the hope that this would at least stimulate their powers of judgment. And since a whole series of lectures had already been devoted to tirades about the dark Middle Ages and the terrible dualistic scholasticism, I decided—it was during the period when people are now saying that I was an angry Haeckelian—to do something that would shake up their judgment a little. So I gave a lecture on Thomas Aquinas and said, summarizing in a few sentences what I explained in detail at the time, something like the following: There is no justification whatsoever for speaking of the ideas of the intellectual life of the past, of the Dark Ages, and in particular of the dualism of Thomism and scholasticism. For if one constantly uses the slogan “monism,” I want to prove that Thomas Aquinas was a true monist. Only then must one not merely call monism what is currently understood as materialistic monism, but one must call a monist someone who sees the world principle in a monon, in a unity. So I said: Thomas Aquinas certainly did this, for he naturally saw in the unified divine the monon that underlies everything that exists in the world as creation. There, I said, lies the purest monism. Only, in accordance with the age, he distinguished that one half could be grasped through ordinary human sensory perception and intellectual knowledge, the other through a kind of knowledge that was then called faith. But what scholasticism still understood as faith is not understood at all by present-day humanity. So, I said, we must be clear that although Thomas Aquinas wanted to approach the world on the one hand through sensory research and intellectual knowledge, on the other hand he wanted to supplement this intellectual knowledge with the truths of revelation. But in doing so, he wanted to advance precisely to the monon of the world. He only wanted to proceed in two ways. The problem for the present, I said, is that the present does not have broad-minded enough concepts to understand anything in history.

In short, I wanted to help the dried-up brains regain some moisture. But it was in vain. For it had a very strange effect. At first, people didn't know what to make of the matter. They were all Protestant Protestants, and they thought: Now Catholicism is to be smuggled in! They thought that Catholicism, with its terrible dualism, was to be protected. It's terrible, they said, we're doing our best to deal Catholicism the final blow, and now a member of this same Giordano Bruno League comes along and defends Catholicism!

Really, people at the time didn't know whether I had gone mad overnight when I gave this lecture. They didn't know what to make of it. And they were actually the most enlightened minds of the time. There was really only one who then acted as a kind of apologist. That was the poet Wolfgang Kirchbach. He was the only one who then devised the formula under which the lecture could have a place in the Giordano Bruno Society. And he devised this formula in the following way. He said: Yes, Steiner did not want to smuggle in Catholicism, but he wanted to show that there is something much more significant in the ancient scholastic wisdom of Catholicism than what we ourselves have today as our superficial concepts. That is what he wanted to show. He wanted to show us that Catholicism is such a strong enemy because we are such weak opponents, that we should acquire stronger weapons. That is what he wanted to show with his lecture. — That was the only formula under which this lecture gained enough acceptance among a third, among the minority, that I was at least not excluded from the Giordano Bruno Society. But the majority considered me a person who had been confused by Catholicism.

Now you see, that is an episode from that time, from which people now say that I was an angry Haeckelian. But through such things, one gained experience in the ability to judge, namely in the generosity of judgment, which was shown to those who, above all, did not rely on theoretical formulas, but who really set out on the path to the spiritual, really entered into the spiritual world.

For this entry into the spiritual world does not depend on whether one has this or that theory about spirit or matter, but on whether one is able to bring about a real experience of the spiritual world. I have often emphasized that spiritualists certainly believe that they are driving everything toward the spirit, but their theories are so spiritless. They certainly do not lead people to the spirit. One can even be a materialist and have a lot of spirit. That is also real spirit, even if it is based on error. Of course, one does not need to present the errant spirit as something valuable, but the errant spirit, the spirit that deceives itself by considering matter to be the only reality, can still be more spiritual than that spiritlessness which seeks the spirit in a material way because it cannot find any spirit at all within itself.

So, when looking back at those starting points, which must be correctly understood if one wants to comprehend the whole meaning and the conditions of life of the movement, one must know, on the one hand, how extraordinarily problematic, if I may use the expression, in the last third of the 19th century, and how immature the general judgment was to accept these spiritual revelations, and how great, above all, was the will of certain circles to prevent anything that really leads to the spirit from reaching the people. There is no doubt that for many serious-minded people, the appearance of Blavatsky must have been stimulating. And indeed, that was the case at first. People who still had some judgment left admitted that there was something about her that spoke for itself. It is strange how it has come into the world right now, but it is something that speaks for itself. One only needs to use common sense, then it speaks for itself. But there were many people who had an interest in not allowing something like this to flow into the world as inspiration.

Now it was there, it was there in a personality like Blavatsky, who in a certain sense was again naive and helpless in the face of her own inner revelation. This is already evident in the style of her works. So it was there, she herself stood by it, naive and helpless in a certain way, and devoted to much of what appeared in her environment. Yes, do you think it was particularly difficult — especially in H.P. Blavatsky's case, it was not very difficult — for people who wanted to prepare the world in such a way that it would not accept anything spiritual to approach Blavatsky and form her environment? Because she was so naive and helpless in the face of her own inner revelations, she was gullible in a certain way. For example, it took the matter of the sliding door through which apparent master letters had been pushed in — but which had been written and pushed in by someone outside, like the... or someone else wrote and pushed in — not at all based on H.P. Blavatsky first saying to the... . “Push such letters in there” — but she was, in a certain way, naive again, believing in such letters herself. The person who pushed them in deceived Blavatsky and the world. Then, of course, it was very easy to say to the world: She is a fraud. But don't you understand, my dear friends, that Blavatsky herself could have been deceived? For she possessed a certain extraordinary credulity, precisely because of the special, I would say, softness of her brain. So the problem is extremely complicated and, like everything that enters the world in our time in terms of real spirituality, requires judgment and common sense. It is not exactly common sense when Adalbert Stifter is initially not even considered capable of becoming a teacher, and afterwards — in this case it was also a woman, probably one with an even softer brain than all those officials in the ministries or school commissions — when a hint came from this side: then he was found suitable to inspect all those of whom he was not even allowed to be one.

To see what is right in this case, too, requires common sense. But there are strange judgments about this common sense. When I gave a series of lectures in Germany last year, I often used the term “common sense” and said that what anthroposophy has to say from the spiritual world can be tested with common sense. One of the critics, who was not even the worst, picked up on this and came to the following conclusion. He said, almost word for word: Yes, that would be a kind of trap to speak of common sense: for everyone who is scientifically educated today knows that common sense, which is healthy, recognizes almost nothing, and those who believe they recognize something are not healthy. — That was the content of a critical judgment that was not even written without wit.

So, translated into more popular terms, this means: if someone today, after humanity has made so much progress, is intelligent, they know that nothing can be recognized; if they believe they recognize something, they are crazy. We have already arrived at this kind of reception of the spiritual.

By presenting you with some examples from the time before the beginning of the anthroposophical movement with regard to the receptivity to spiritual revelation, and by now presenting you with the judgment of a critic who was, after all, influential in the previous year, you can see roughly how this zeitgeist has pursued the entire movement. For in fact, given such an atmosphere of the times — especially since there was still such a difficult personality as Blavatsky to point to — the judgment that is basically repeated today in various variations was bound to arise, only that one says it one way and another says it another: Anyone who is intelligent today, who has common sense, says “Ignorabimus”; anyone who does not say “Ignorabimus” is either crazy or a fraud.

This should not be understood as something malicious. In order to properly understand the times and some of the conditions of the anthroposophical movement, one must not see this as the malice of individuals, but rather as something that is part of the zeitgeist in all countries and among all of humanity today. One must see through it as such. Then, of course, one will be able to mix into the whole position that one takes, which one should take with strength and courage, what must be included in all, even the sharpest, most emotionally sharp rejections of opponents, when speaking about the times from an anthroposophical point of view: compassion. One must nevertheless have compassion, because the judgment of the times is clouded.

How the anthroposophical movement fared and had to fare, because that is how things are, we will talk about further tomorrow.