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The Art of Lecturing
GA 339

13 October 1921, Dornach

Lecture III

Along with the tasks which one can set oneself in a certain realm as a speaker it will be a question at first of entering in the appropriate way into the material itself which is to be dealt with. There is a twofold entering into the material, in so far as the message about this material is concerned in speaking. The first is to convert to one's own use the material for a lecture so that it can be divided up—so that one is as it were placed in the position of giving the lecture a composition. Without composition a talk cannot really be understood. This or that may appeal to the listener about a lecture which is not composed: but in reality a non-composed lecture will not be assimilated. As far as the preparation is concerned, it must therefore be a matter of realizing: every talk will inevitably be poor as regards its reception by the listeners which has merely originated in one's conceiving one statement after the other, one sentence after the other, and going through them to a certain extent, one after the other, in the preparation. If one is not in the position, at least at some stage of the preparation, of surveying the whole lecture as a totality, then one cannot really count on being understood. Allowing the whole lecture to spring, as it were, from a comprehensive thought, which one subdivides, and letting the composition arise by starting out from such a comprehensive thought comprising the total lecture,—this is the first consideration.

The other is the consulting of all experiences which one has available out of immediate life for the subject of the lecture,—that is, calling to mind as much as possible everything one has experienced first-hand about the matter in question,—and, after one has before one a kind of composition of the lecture, endeavoring to let the experiences flow here or there into this composition.

That will in general be the rough draft in preparing. Thus one has during the preparation the whole of the lecture before one as in a tableau. So exactly does one have this tableau before one, that, as will indeed naturally be the case, one can incorporate the single experiences one remembers in the desired way here or there, as though one had written on paper: a, b, c, d.—There is now an experience one knows belongs under d, another under f, another belongs under a,—so that one is to a certain extent independent of the sequence of the thoughts as they are afterwards to be presented, as regards this collecting of the experiences. Whether such a thing is done by putting it onto paper, or whether it is done by a free process without having recourse to the paper, will determine only that he who is dependent upon the paper will speak worse, and he who is not dependent upon the paper will speak somewhat better. But one can of course by all means do both.

But now it is a matter of fulfilling a third requirement, which is: after one has the whole on the one hand—I never say the ‘skeleton’—and on the other hand the single experiences, one has need of elaborating the ideas which ensue to the point that these things can stand before the soul in the most complete inner satisfaction.

Let us take as an example, that we want to hold a lecture on the threefold order. Here we shall say to ourselves: After an introduction—we shall speak further about this—and before a conclusion—about which we shall also speak—the composition of such a lecture is really given through the subject itself. The unifying thought is given through the subject itself. I say that for this example. If one lives properly, mentally, then this is valid actually for every single case, it is valid equally for everything. But let us take this example near at hand of the threefolding of the social organism, about which we want to speak. There, at the outset, is given that which yields us three members in the treatment of our theme. To deal with, we shall have the nature of the spiritual life, the nature of the juridical-state life, and the nature of the economic life.

Then, certainly, it will be a question of our calling forth in the listeners, by means of a suitable introduction,—about which, as mentioned, we shall speak further—a feeling that it makes sense to speak about these things at all, about a change in these things, in the present. But then it will be a matter of not immediately starting out with explanations of what is to be understood by a free spiritual life, by a juridical-states life founded on equality, by an economic life founded on associations, but rather of having to lead up to these things. And here one will have to lead up through connecting to that which is to hand in the greatest measure as regards the three members of the social organism in the present—what can therefore be observed the most intensively by people of today. Indeed, only by this means will one connect with what is known.

Let us suppose we have an audience, and an audience will be most agreeable and sympathetic which is a mixture of middle-class people, working-class people—in turn with all possible nuances—and, if there are then of course also a few of the nobility—even Swiss nobility,—it doesn't hurt at all. Let us therefore assume we have such a chequered, jumbled-up audience, made up of all social classes. I stress this for the reason that as a lecturer one should really always sense to whom one has to speak, before one sets about speaking. One ought already to transpose oneself actively into the situation in this way.

Now, what will one have to say to oneself to begin with about that which one can connect with in a present-day audience, as regards the threefold social organism? One will say to oneself: it is extraordinarily difficult in the first place to connect onto concepts of an audience of the bourgeois, because in recent times the bourgeoisie have formed extraordinarily few concepts about social relationships, since they have vegetated thoughtlessly to some extent as regards the social life. It would always make an academic impression, if one wanted to speak about these things today out of the circle of ideas of a middle-class audience. On the other hand, however, one can be clear about the fact that exceptionally distinct concepts exist concerning all three domains of the social organism within the working-class population,—also distinct feelings, and a distinct social volition. And it means that it is nothing short of the sign of our present time, that precisely within the proletariat these qualified concepts are there.

These concepts are to be handled by us, though, with great caution, since we shall very easily call forth the prejudice that we want to be partisan in the proletarian direction. This prejudice we should really combat through the whole manner of our bearing. We shall indeed see that we immediately arouse for ourselves serious misunderstandings if we proceed from proletarian concepts. These misunderstandings have revealed themselves in point of fact constantly in the time when an effect could still be brought about in middle-Europe, from about April 1919 on, for the threefolding of the social organism. A middle-class population hears only that which it, has sensed for decades from the fomenting behavior of the working- class, out of certain concepts. How one views the matter oneself is then hardly comprehended at all.

One must be clear that being active in the world at all in the sense, I should like to say, of the world-order has to be grasped. The world-order is such—you have only to look at the fish in the sea—that very, very many fisheggs are laid, and only a few become fish. That has to be so. But with this tendency of nature you have also to approach the tasks which are to be solved by you as speakers; even if only very few, and these little stimulated, are to be found to begin with at the first lecture, then actually a maximum is attained as regards what can be attained. It is a matter of things that one stands so within in life, as for instance the threefolding of the social organism, that what can be accomplished by means of lecturing may never be abandoned, but must be taken up and perfected in some way, be it through further lectures, be it in some other way. It can be said: no lecture is really in vain which is given in this sense and to which is joined all that is required.

But one has to be absolutely clear about the fact that one will actually also be completely misunderstood by the proletarian population, if one speaks directly out of that which they think today in the sense of their theories, as these have persisted for decades. One cannot ask oneself the question for instance: How does one do it so as not to be misunderstood?—One must only do it right! But for this reason it cannot be a matter of putting forward the question: Then how does one do it so as not to be misunderstood?—One tells people what they have already thought anyhow! One preaches to them, in some way, Marxism, or some such thing. Then one will, of course, be understood.

But there is nothing of interest in being understood in this way. Otherwise one will indeed very soon have the following experience—concerning this experience one must be quite clear—: if one speaks today to a proletarian gathering so that they can at least understand the terminology—and that must be striven for—then one will notice particularly in the discussion, that those who discuss have understood nothing. The others one usually doesn't get to know, since they do not participate in the discussions. Those who have understood nothing usually participate after such lectures in the discussions. And with them one will notice something along the following lines.—I have given countless lectures myself on the threefolding of the social organism to, as they are called in Germany, “surplus-value social democrats,” independent “social democrats,” communists and so on.—Now, one will notice: if someone places himself in the discussions and believes himself able to speak then it is usually the case that he answers one as though one had really not spoken at all, but as though someone or other had spoken more or less as one would have spoken as a social-democratic agitator thirty years ago in popular meetings. One feels oneself suddenly quite transformed. One says to oneself roughly the following: Well, can it then be that the misfortune has befallen you, that you were possessed in this moment by old Bebel?1August Bebel, 1840–1913. Founder in 1869 with Wilhelm Liebknecht of the Social-Democratic Party. That is really how you are confronted! The persons concerned hear even physically nothing else than what they have been used to hearing for decades. Even physically—not merely with the soul—even physically they hear nothing other than what they are long used to. And then they say: Well, the lecturer really told us nothing new!—Since they have, because one was obliged to use the terminology, translated the whole connection of the terminology right-away in the ear—not first in the soul—into that which they have been used to for a long time. And then they talk on and on in the sense of what they have been used to for a long time.

This is the approximate course of countless discussions. At most, a new nuance entered into the matter when, from their newly attained standpoint, the Communists made an appearance and declared something like this: Above all else it is necessary to gain political power! Certainly, it is quite natural—I speak from experience and cite examples that actually occurred—that one first has to have political power. For instance, one person believed that if he had the political power in the capacity of head of the police, he would certainly not install himself as a registrar, since by profession he was a shoe-repairman, and he could well understand that a shoe repairman could not know anything of the responsibilities of a registrar. Therefore, if he were head of the police (over the whole country), he would not make himself a registrar since he was a shoe-repairman.—He did not realize that by saying this he really implied that while he felt quite well suited to be installed as Minister of the police, he did not consider himself qualified to be a registrar!—This was a kind of new nuance for the discussion. The nuances were always approximately in this form.

Well, nevertheless, we must understand that in order to be comprehensible one must speak out of the inmost thoughts of the people. For, if one does that, their unconscious mind can follow somehow. This is particularly the case when the lecture is structured in the manner I have already indicated and shall elaborate on still further. But concerning the points that are really important, we must avail ourselves of concepts based on experience which, in this case, are concepts that can be formulated out of the experiences of the feelings of the working class.

Consider the spiritual part of the threefold social organism. Since the dawn of Marxism, the workman has developed quite definite concepts in regard to this spiritual aspect, namely the concept of ideology. He says: The spiritual life has no reality of its own. Religion, concepts of justice, concepts of morality, and so forth, art, science itself—that is nothing by itself. Only economic processes exist on their own. In world-historical development, one can follow how actual reality consists of how one level of the population relates to the other in economic life. From this factor of how one class relates to another in the life of the economy, the concepts, the feelings in religion, science, art, morals, rights, and so on, must evolve quite by themselves like a form of smoke that arises from something. So, rights, morality, religion, art are not realities by ideologies.—In all social-democratic and other Proletarian meetings, this expression, “ideology,” along with the underlying sentiment that I have just characterized, could be heard for decades. It was nothing short of an especially developed means of indoctrination to make people understand: The middle class speaks of truth per se. It speaks of the values of morality and art—but all this has no standing in reality by itself; these are chimeras that arise from the economic process. One of the leaders of the working class, Franz Mehring,2Franz Mehring, 1846–1919; socialist writer and politician, founder of Marxist literary analysis. carried this matter to special extremes in a book, The Lessing Legend.

A not very significant book by a typical middle-class professor, Erich Schmidt,3Erich Schmidt, 1853–1913, literary historian. was published concerning Lessing. The reason that it isn't very significant is that it is not really Lessing who is being dealt with there, but a papier-mache figure, wrongly designated as “Lessing,” to which Erich Schmidt links the remarks, narrations and observations that he was capable of due to his special talent or lack of talent. The reader is not dealing with a person at all in this book but with a made-up statue calling [sic] “Lessing.” Before the book Lessing by Erich Schmidt had even been written, when I heard Erich Schmidt give a lecture in Vienna in the Academy of Sciences, where he presented the first beginnings of the first chapter of this Lessing-book in condensed form in a speech, I already knew that this middle-class professor did not have particularly clear conceptions about the living man Lessing but only a papier-mache Lessing. At that time, I was strangely impressed by this speech, which demonstrated so clearly that if a person is otherwise enjoying a certain social standing and is allowed to speak, even in such a venerable academy of sciences, he need not say anything of real substance. For, at the most important points, where Erich Schmidt brought out something that was supposed to be characteristic for the personality whom he was discussing, he always said—singling out something of Lessing's manner of working or style of writing—“That's typically Lessing!” And this expression, “That's typically Lessing!”—one heard, I believe, fifty times during this lecture at the academy.

Well, if one is dealing with John Smith from New Middletown, and one has to characterize him, relating the special way that he keeps up his compost heap, one will be able to say along the same lines, “That's typically Smith!”—One will have made an equally weighty statement.

What I am saying is that we are dealing with something extraordinarily insignificant. But a proper social-democratic writer, as was Franz Mehring, ascribed the insignificance of Erich Schmidt's book on Lessing to the fact that Erich Schmidt was a middle-class professor, and so he said, “Well, that's a product of the Bourgeois.”—And now he pitted his Proletarian product against it, and he called his book, The Lessing Legend. This book examines the economic conditions under which Lessing's forefathers had lived and what they did, how Lessing himself was placed in his youth within the life of the economy, how he had to become a journalist, how he had to borrow money—this is, after all an economical aspect—and so on. In short, it is shown how Lessing's conception of Laocoon, how his Dramaturgy of Hamburg, how his Minna von Barnhelm had to be the way they were because Lessing had grown out of certain economic conditions.

After the pattern of this book, The Lessing Legend, by the party-scholar Mehring, one of the students of my Worker's Education School—for many years, I did indeed teach in such an institution, even giving instruction in lecturing—proved in a trial-speech that the Kantian philosophy originated simply from the economic conditions out of which Kant had developed. One always encountered matter similar to this (in these circles) and probably could find them still today, although by now they have more or less become empty phrases. But it was indeed so, and it meant that the modern member of the working-class held the view that everything pertaining to the spiritual life is ideology.

In regard to the political life of rights, the Proletarian only gives credence to what is once again established within economic conditions as relationships between people. For him, these are the social classes. The class holding power rules over the other classes. And a person belonging to a certain class develops class consciousness. Therefore, what the modern workman comprehends of the political life of rights is the class and what is close to his heart is class consciousness.

The third member of the social organism is the economic part. There too, clearly defined concepts exist within the working-class, and the central concept that is referred to again and again, in the same manner as the concepts, ideology and class consciousness, is the concept of surplus value. The workman understands: When something is being produced, a certain value is attached to the economic product; of this value, he receives a portion as compensation, the remainder is taken away for something else, He designates the latter as “surplus value,” and occupies himself with this increment value, of which he has the feeling that he is deprived of it insofar as the value of the fruits of his labours are concerned.

Thinking these matters through in this manner, one can see how within that segment of the populace that has developed in recent times as the active and truly aggressive one, clearly defined concepts do in fact exist for the three spheres of the threefold social organism. The social life reveals itself in a threefold way—this is approximately how a proper Proletarian theorist would put it—it reveals itself in the first place through its reality, through the value-producing economy. This value-producing economy does itself produce the surplus value out of the economic life. Through the balance of power that develops, the socially active people are split into classes in the economic life, which represents the only reality; therefore, if they contemplate their human worth, they arrive at class consciousness, not human consciousness. And then there develops what one likes to have on Sundays, and what one needs—but also sort of inbetween—to properly invent machines, so that every so often, in one's free time, inventions can be made and so on; thus, ideology develops, which, however, results as a nebulous product out of the actual reality, out of the economic life.

I am really not drawing caricatures, I am only describing what dwelled in millions, not thousands, but millions of heads in the decades preceding the war, continuing also through the war. The working-class therefore does have a concept of threefoldness of the social organism, and one can relate to that.

One can relate to it in a still further sense. Once can refer to the fact that in recent times the economic life has basically developed in a separate direction, since it contains its own inherent laws of necessity, and that the other elements of life, the spiritual life and the political life of rights, have lagged behind. People could not remain behind in the economic life. In the last third of the nineteenth century, they first had to change over to universal communications, then to the world economy. An inner necessity underlies that. In a certain sense, it develops b itself unless people ruin matters as was the case because of the war. But because other matters did not keep up with the pace and because abstract intellectualism developed in them, awareness of the economic life became influential to an extraordinary degree and mainly affected people everywhere suggestively by its very nature. And this suggestive influence did not only take root in human conceptions but it turned into establishments. Intellectualism gradually has taken complete hold of the social life.

Abstraction, the abstract element is the property of intellectualism. In life, one finds, let's say, butter; or a Madonna by Raffael, or one has a toothbrush or a philosophical work; in life, there are powder boxes for women, and so on. Life is made up of a lot of things, as you know. I could continue with this list endlessly. But you will not deny that these items differ vary greatly from each other and that if one wants to gain concepts of all these things, these concepts will be very different from each other. But in the social life of recent times something developed nevertheless that became extremely significant for all relationships in life and that is not so very differentiated after all. For, we can say that a certain amount of butter costs two francs; a Madonna by Raffael costs two-million francs; a toothbrush costs only about two-and-a-half francs now; a philosophical work—which might be the least expensive—costs, shall we say, if it is a think single volume, seventy rappen; a powder box, if it is of especially high quality, costs ten francs.

Now we've found a common denominator for the whole thing! Now we only need to consider the differences of the numbers, something that is part of one area. But we have spread an abstraction, the monetary value, over everything.

This has ingrained itself especially deeply into people's manner of thinking, although people do not always admit to it. Certainly, a person who is a poet considers himself as the world's most important point, he will therefore not evaluate himself in the above way; neither will a person who is a philosopher, and so on. Least of all one who is a painter! But the world evaluates all these matters today in this style in the social evaluation of human beings. And the end-result is that, let us say, a poet has a net value of ten-thousand francs for a publisher, if the publisher is generous from the time he beings to write his novel until it is finished. So this is the value of a poet for a certain period of time, isn't that right? We have placed him also in the equalizing abstractions.

2.— Fr. Butter
2 000 000.— Fr. Madonna by Raffael
2.50 Fr. Toothbrush
-.70 Fr. Philosophical Work
10.— Fr. Powder Box
10 000— Fr. Poet
3.— Fr. Daily Capacity for Work

Well, I could cite all sorts of examples here; but I already said that the middle-class didn't waste much time thinking about these matters. A poet in his attic room4Note by translator: Rudolf Steiner makes a pun with words here. The term “Oberstuebchen” can refer in German to an attic room as well as one's head. Not to be quite right in the head can be expressed as not being quite right in the “Oberstuebchen.”—I am now referring to the “Oberstuebchen” that is situated on a floor high above the others—naturally considers himself something quite special, but in social life he was worth ten-thousand francs. But he paid no attention to that unless he happened to belong to the working-class. He paid no heed to it. But the laborer did; from all this, he drew the conclusion: I don't have butter, I don't have powder, I don't have a philosophy book. But I have my capacity for work; I offer it to the owner of the factory, and to him, it is worth, let's say, three francs for each day; the daily capacity for work.

You must forgive me for writing “poet” here for the reason that one could experience that a poet was treated a good bit worse in the course of the last few decades than the workman with his daily capacity for work. For the latter could defend himself still better than the poet, and as a rule, the ten-thousand francs were not worth more than the wage of three francs for the Proletarian working capacity, with the exception of a few. It goes without saying that poets such as, for example, the blessed E. Marlitt—I don't know if many of you remember her—earned splendid wages with her The Secret of the Old Spinster, a novel concerning which the best criticism would be the one expressed once by a certain person: Oh book, if only you had remained the secret of the old spinster!

Now the workman considered what he had become by having been placed into the abstraction of prices in regard to his capacity for work. For what does anything in the economic life represent by virtue of having a price-tag? It is a commodity. Anything for which a price can be paid must be considered a commodity. I've said that the life of the middle-class runs its course along with a certain indifference in regard to such matters. But these concepts arose from the working-class and in this manner, the idea emerged: We ourselves have become a commodity with our capacity for work.

This is something that now worked together with the other three concepts. A person who understands modern life correctly, knows that when he comprehends the four concepts, ideology, class consciousness, surplus value, capacity for work as a commodity in the right way so that he can place himself into life with these four concepts in regard to experiences, that he then encounters with these four concepts the reality of consciousness that exists in particular among the segment of the population which actively and consciously wants to bring about a transformation of social conditions. One therefore has the task of contemplating how to deal with these four concepts.

If a lecturer has a mixed audience of working-class people and those of the middle-class, he will have to speak first of all in such a manner so as to call attention to the fact that the working-class could not help but arrive at these matters and how, due to modern life, a workman could not become acquainted with anything except the processes of the economic life. For this is how matters developed since approximately the middle of the fifteenth century. This was when it slowly began. For if we go back further than the middle of the fifteenth century, we find that man with his being was still connected with what he produced. One who makes a key pours his soul into his key. A shoemaker makes shoes with all his heart. And I am quite certain that among those, where these things continued on in a healthy way, no disdain existed in regard to any such labor. I am fully convinced—not only subjectively, for, if necessary, such matters could be proven—that Jakob Boehme5Jakob Boehme, 1575–1624; mystic and shoemaker in Goerlitz. enjoyed producing his boots just as much as his philosophical works, his mystical texts that he wrote, likewise in the case of Hans Sachs,6Hans Sachs, 1494–1576; Meistersinger, poet and shoemaker in Nuremberg. for example. These matters—that something that is material is looked down upon, and that spiritual matters are over-valued—have only developed along with intellectualism and its abstractions in all areas. What happened is that through the modern economic life, which has been permeated by technology, the human being has been separated from his product so that no real love can any longer connect him with what he produces. Those people who can still develop a sense of love for what they produce in certain professional fields, are becoming increasingly rare. Only in the so-called professions of the mind, this love still exists. This is what causes the unnatural element in social differences and even classifications in recent times. One has to go east—perhaps this is no longer possible now, but it was the case decades ago—in order to still find joy in one's profession. I must admit I was really delighted, actually moved, when, decades ago, I encountered a barber in Budapest to whom I had gone for a haircut, who danced around me all the time and each time when he had cut off something with his scissors, would say, taking his hand-mirror: Oh what a wonderful cut I've just made! What a great cut this was!—Please go and try to find a barber capable of such enthusiasm today in our civilized country!

What has taken place is the separation of man from his product. It has become something of indifference to him. He is placed in front of a machine. What does he care about the machine! At most, it interests—not even the one who built it, but the one who invented it' and the interest that the inventor has in the machine is usually not a truly social interest. For social interest only begins when one can discover the possible value, the monetary yield, in other words, when the whole thing has been reduced to the level of its price.

It is, however, the economic life that the modern workman has become familiar with above all else. He has been placed into it. If he is to approach the spiritual life, the latter is nowhere connected with his immediate inner life. It does not move his soul. He accepts it as something alien, as ideology. It is part of the modern historical process that this ideology has developed.

If, however, you are successful in calling forth a feeling in the workman that this is the case, then you have achieved the beginning of what has to be attained. For a member of the working-class listens to you today with the following attitude: it is an absolute necessity of nature that all art, all science, all religion are ideologies. He is very far from believing that with this view he has simply become the product of modern-day developments. It is very difficult to make that clear to him. If he does notice it that everything is merely supposed to be ideology, he feels terrible about it and turns his whole way of thinking around; then he becomes aware of the completely illusory nature of this view. He among all people is, as it were, predisposed better than any other to feel disgust over the fact that everything has turned into ideology; but you must make him realize this in his feelings. The thoughts that you set forth or have developed in your own mind do not interest the listener. But in the way that I have described it, you lead him to the point of sensing the matter. For what is important is that you put the subject into the right light for workmen by giving your sentences this nuance.

For members of the middle-class, the matter must be put in a different light again, for what is quite proper for people of the working-class is detrimental for those of the middle-class in this area. It is not only a matter of lecturing correctly, but due to the diversity of life today it is a matter of speaking well in the sense of what I said yesterday, and that as far as possible a lecturer addresses the members of the middle-class as well. What has to be made clear to them is that, because they were indifferent to what was developing, they helped cause the problem. Because of what the middle-class did, or rather didn't do, matters developed to the point where they have become ideology for the working-class. Members of the middle-class must be made to comprehend. Once upon a time, religion was something that filled the whole human being with an inner fire; it was something that gave rise to everything that a person carried out in the external world. Customs derived from what people considered holy in regard to social life. Art was something by means of which a human being rose above the hardships and difficulties of life on earth, and so on. But, oh, how the value of these spiritual properties has declined in the past few centuries! Because of the manner in which the middle-class upholds them, the workman cannot experience them in any other way but as ideology.

Take the case that a workman comes into the office of the employer for whatever reason. He has his own views concerning the whole management of the business. Let's assume that the bookkeeper, to whom he was called, or the boss himself, ahs just left the office. He sees a large volume in which many entries are made. The workman has his own views concerning what the figures in it express. He has recently developed these views. Now, because the bookkeeper or the boss happens not to be there and he is half-a-minute early, he opens the cover and looks at the first page. There, it says on top of the page, “In God's Name!” (“Mit Gott”). That catches his attention, for, indeed, this religious element appearing on the first page in the words, “In God's Name,” is really pure ideology, because the workman is convinced that there isn't much that is in “God's Name” in the pages that follow, This is right in the style in which he pictures conditions in the world in general, There is as little truth in what people call religion, custom and so on as there is in this book, where it says “In God's Name” on the first page. I don't know whether it says “In God's Name” in ledgers in Switzerland; but it is quite common that people begin their account books with “In God's Name.”

Therefore, it is a matter of making it clear to people of the middle-class that they are the cause for the view concerning ideology among workmen.

Now, each party has its portion. Then, the lecturer has reached the point where he can explain how the spiritual life must once again acquire reality, since it has in fact turned into ideology. If people have only ideas concerning the spirit and not the whole relationship with the actual spiritual life and substance, then this really is ideology. In this way, one acquires a bridge to the sphere, where a conception can be called forth concerning the reality of the spiritual life. Then it becomes possible to point out that the spiritual (cultural) life is a self-contained reality, not merely a product of the economic life, not just an ideology, but something real that is based on its own foundation. A feeling must be evoked for the fact that the spiritual life is a reality based on its own foundation. Such a self-evident reality is something else than an abstract fact, for something with an abstract basis must be based on a foundation elsewhere.

The workman claims that ideology is based on the economic life. But inasmuch as a person only abandons himself to abstract ideas in his spiritual life, this is indeed something ephemeral, something illusory. Only if people penetrate through this nebulous, illusory element, through the idea to the reality of the spiritual life—as happens by means of Anthroposophy—only then can the spiritual life be experienced as real once again. If the spiritual life is merely a sum of ideas, then these ideas do indeed stream up from the economic life. There, they have to be organized, there one has to provide them with an artificial effectiveness and order. And this is what the state has done. In the age when the spiritual life evaporated into ideology, the state took it in hand to bestow on it at least that reality, which people no longer experienced in the spiritual world itself.

This is how one has to try to make it comprehensible in what way all this, which the state has given the spiritual life without being qualified to do so—since it has turned into ideology—does have a reality. It must have, after all, a reality. For if a person does not have legs of his own but wants to walk, he must have artificial ones made. In order to exist any given thing must have reality. Therefore the spiritual life must have its own reality. This is what must be felt, namely, that the spiritual life must have its own reality.

To begin with, you will make a paradoxical impression among the people of the middle-class as well as those of the working-class. You must even call forth an awareness of the fact that you appear paradoxical. You can do this by giving rise to the conception among your listeners that you think in the same manner as the workman by making use of his language, and at the same time that you think like a member of the middle-class by making use of his terminology. But then, after having developed these trains of thought which can be brought out with the help of what is recalled of experiences gained in life, after you have gone through something like this as a preparation, then you arrive at the point of speaking to people in such as way that gradually a comprehension can be brought about for the issues that must be met with understanding.

Speaking cannot be learned by means of external instructions. Speaking must be learned to a certain extent by means of understanding how to bring to the lecture the thinking which lies behind it, and the experience which lies before it, in a proper relationship.

Now, I have today tried to show you how the material first has to be dealt with. I have connected with what is known, in order to show you how the material may not be created out of some theory or other, how it must be drawn out of life, how it must be prepared so as to be dealt with in speaking. What I have said today everyone should now actually do in his own fashion as preparation for lecturing. Through such preparation the lecture gains forcefulness. Through thought preparation—preparing the organization of the lecture, as I have said at the beginning of today's remarks: from a thought which is then formed into a composition—by this means the lecture becomes lucid, so that the listener can also receive it as a unity. What the lecturer brings along as thinking he should not weave into his own thoughts.—Since, if he gives his own thoughts, they are, as I have already said, such that they interest not a single person. Only through use of one's own thinking in organizing the lecture does it become lucid, and through lucidity, comprehensible.

By means of the experiences which the lecturer should gather from everywhere (the worst experiences are still always better than none at all!) the lecture becomes forceful. If, for example, you tell someone what happened to you, for all it matters, as you were going through a village where someone nearly gave you a box on the ear, then it is still always better if you judge life out of such an experience, than if you merely theorize.—Fetch things out of experience, through which the lecture acquires blood, since through thinking it only has nerves. It acquires blood through experience, and through this blood, which comes out of experience, the lecture becomes forceful. Through the composition you speak to the understanding of the listener; through your experience you speak to the heart of the listener. It is this which should be looked upon as a golden rule. Now, we can proceed step by step. Today I wanted more to show first of all in rough outline how the material can be transformed by degrees into what it afterwards has to be in the lecture. Tomorrow, then, we resume again at three o'clock.

Dritter Vortrag

Es wird sich, zu den Aufgaben, die man sich auf einem bestimmten Gebiete als Redner stellen kann, darum handeln, den Stoff, den man zu behandeln hat, in der entsprechenden Weise zunächst selber zu durchdringen. Es gibt eine zweifache Durchdringung des Stoffes, insofern die Mitteilung über diesen Stoff durch das Reden in Betracht kommt. Das erste ist, sich den Stoff für eine entsprechende Rede anzueignen so, daß man ihn gliedern kann, daß man gewissermaßen in die Lage versetzt ist, der Rede eine Komposition zu geben. Ohne Komposition kann eine Rede eigentlich nicht verstanden werden. Es kann dem Zuhörer an einer nichtkomponierten Rede das eine oder das andere gefallen; aber in Wirklichkeit aufgenommen wird eine nichtkomponierte Rede nicht. Insofern die Vorbereitung in Betracht kommt, muß es sich daher darum handeln, daß man einsieht: Jede Rede muß unbedingt schlecht werden in bezug auf die Aufnahme durch die Zuhörer, welche nur so entstanden ist, daß man einfach eine Ausführung nach der anderen, einen Satz nach dem anderen sich vorgestellt hat und eines nach dem anderen in der Vorbereitung gewissermaßen durchgenommen hat. Ist man nicht in der Lage, wenigstens in irgendeinem Stadium der Vorbereitung die ganze Rede als ein Ganzes zu überschauen, dann kann man eigentlich nicht auf Verstandenwerden rechnen. Hervorgehenlassen die ganze Rede gewissermaßen aus einem umfassenden Gedanken, den man gliedert, und Entstehenlassen der Komposition dadurch, daß man von einem solchen einheitlichen, das Ganze der Rede umfassenden Gedanken ausgeht, das ist das erste.

Das andere ist das Zu-Rate-Ziehen aller Erfahrungen, die man für das Gebiet der Rede aus dem unmittelbaren Leben heraus haben kann, also möglichst in die Erinnerung rufen alles dasjenige, was man in der betreffenden Sache unmittelbar erlebt hat, und versuchen, nachdem man eine Art Komposition der Rede vor sich hat, die Erfahrungen in diese Komposition da oder dort hineinfließen zu lassen.

Das wird im allgemeinen die Skizze zum Vorbereiten sein. Man hat also dann in der Vorbereitung das Ganze der Rede vor sich wie in einem Tableau. Und so genau hat man dieses Tableau vor sich, daß man, wie es ja naturgemäß sein wird, die einzelnen Erfahrungen, an die man sich erinnert, in beliebiger Weise dahin oder dorthin unterbringen kann, wie wenn man auf dem Papier aufgeschrieben hätte: a, b, c, d, und man nun eine Erfahrung hätte; man weiß, sie gehört unter d, eine andere unter f, eine andere gehört unter a, so daß man also gewissermaßen von der Folge der Gedanken, wie sie nachher vorgebracht werden sollen, in bezug auf dieses Aufsammeln der Erfahrungen unabhängig ist. Ob man so etwas macht, indem man es zu Papier bringt, oder ob man es in freier Verarbeitung ohne Zuhilfenahme des Papiers macht, davon wird ja nur abhängen, daß derjenige, der auf das Papier angewiesen ist, eben schlechter reden wird, und derjenige, der auf das Papier nicht angewiesen ist, etwas besser reden wird. Aber man kann natürlich durchaus beides machen.

Nun handelt es sich aber darum, daß man noch ein Drittes absolviert, und das ist, nachdem man auf der einen Seite das Ganze hat ich sage niemals: das Gerippe hat — und auf der anderen Seite die einzelnen Erfahrungen, hat man nötig, die Ideen, die sich ergeben, so weit auszuarbeiten, daß diese Dinge bis zur vollständigsten eigenen inneren Befriedigung vor der Seele stehen können.

Nehmen wir also als Beispiel an, wir wollten eine Rede halten über Dreigliederung. Hier werden wir uns sagen: Nach einer Einleitung, über die werden wir noch sprechen, und vor einem Schlusse, über den wir auch noch sprechen, ist eigentlich die Komposition einer solchen Rede durch die Sache selbst gegeben. Der einheitliche Gedanke ist durch die Sache selbst gegeben. Ich sage das bei diesem Beispiel. Wenn man ordentlich geistig lebt, so gilt das eigentlich für jeden einzelnen Fall, es silt für alles gleich. Aber nehmen wir dieses uns naheliegende Beispiel der Dreigliederung des sozialen Organismus, über die wir reden wollen. Da ist von vornherein das gegeben, daß uns die Behandlung unseres Themas drei Glieder ergibt. Wir werden zu behandeln haben das Wesen des geistigen Lebens, das Wesen des rechtlich-staatlichen Lebens und das Wesen des wirtschaftlichen Lebens.

Nun wird es sich allerdings darum handeln, daß wir durch eine entsprechende Einleitung — über die wir, wie gesagt, noch reden werden — eine Empfindung davon hervorrufen bei den Zuhörern, daß es überhaupt einen Sinn hat, über diese Dinge, über eine Wandlung in diesen Dingen, in der Gegenwart zu sprechen. Dann aber wird es sich darum handeln, nicht gleich etwa von Erklärungen auszugehen, was zu verstehen ist unter einem freien Geistesleben, unter einem auf Gleichheit begründeten rechtlich-staatlichen Leben, unter einem auf Assoziationen begründeten Wirtschaftsleben, sondern man wird hinführen müssen zu diesen Dingen. Und da wird man hinführen müssen dadurch, daß man anknüpft an dasjenige, was zunächst in allerhervorragendstem Maße über die drei Glieder des sozialen Organismus in der Gegenwart vorhanden ist, was also am intensivsten durch den Menschen der Gegenwart bemerkt werden kann. Nur dadurch wird man ja an Bekanntes anknüpfen.

Nehmen wir an, wir hätten ein Publikum, und ein solches Publikum kann uns ja am angenehmsten und am sympathischsten sein, das zusammengemischt wäre aus bürgerlicher Bevölkerung, aus proletarischer Bevölkerung — diese wiederum mit allen möglichen Nuancen -, und wenn dann natürlich auch ein paar Adelige dabei sind, schweizerische Adelige sogar, so schadet das natürlich durchaus nichts. Nehmen wir also an, wir hätten so ein aus allen Gesellschaftsklassen durcheinandergewürfeltes Publikum. Ich betone das aus dem Grunde, weil man eigentlich als Redner dieses immer erfühlen soll, zu wem man zu sprechen hat, bevor man an das Sprechen herangeht. Man sollte sich schon lebendig in die Situation nach dieser Richtung hineinversetzen.

Nun, was wird man sich selber zunächst sagen müssen über dasjenige, woran man bei dem heutigen Publikum anknüpfen kann in bezug auf den dreigliedrigen sozialen Organismus? Man wird sich sagen: An Begriffe des Bourgeoispublikums läßt sich zunächst außerordentlich schwer anknüpfen, weil sich die Bourgeoisie über soziale Verhältnisse in der neueren Zeit außerordentlich wenig Vorstellungen gemacht hat, weil sie gewissermaßen gedankenlos in bezug auf das soziale Leben dahinvegetiert hat. Es würde immer einen akademischen Eindruck machen, wenn man aus dem Gedankenkreis eines bürgerlichen Publikums heute reden wollte über diese Dinge. Andererseits aber wird man sich doch darüber klar sein können, daß über alle drei Gebiete des sozialen Organismus innerhalb der proletarischen Bevölkerung außerordentlich ausgeprägte Begriffe vorhanden sind, auch ausgeprägte Empfindungen, und auch ein ausgeprägtes soziales Wollen. Und es bedeutet das gerade die Signatur unserer heutigen Zeit, daß eben innerhalb der proletarischen Bevölkerung diese ausgebildeten Begriffe da sind.

Diese Begriffe sind dann aber allerdings von uns mit großer Vorsicht zu behandeln, denn wir werden sehr leicht das Vorurteil hervorrufen, daß wir nach der proletarischen Richtung hin parteiisch sein wollen. Dieses Vorurteil sollen wir durch die ganze Art und Weise unseres Auftretens eigentlich bekämpfen. Wir werden ja allerdings sehen, daß wir uns, wenn wir von proletarischen Begriffen ausgehen, zunächst schweren Mißverständnissen aussetzen. Diese Mißverständnisse haben sich ja in der Tat fortwährend ergeben in der Zeit, als noch in Mitteleuropa gewirkt werden konnte, so vom April 1919 ab, für die Dreigliederung des sozialen Organismus. Eine bürgerliche Bevölkerung hört nur das, was sie durch Jahrzehnte aus dem agitatorischen Auftreten des Proletariats empfunden hat, heraus aus bestimmten Begriffen. Wie man die Sache selbst meint, das wird zunächst fast gar nicht aufgefaßt.

Man muß sich klar sein darüber, daß das Wirken in der Welt überhaupt im Sinne, möchte ich sagen, der Weltenordnung erfaßt werden muß. Die Weltenordnung ist so — Sie brauchen nur bei den Fischen im Meer nachzusehen -, daß sehr, sehr viele Fischkeime abgelegt werden und nur wenige zu Fischen werden. Das muß so sein. Aber mit dieser Naturtendenz müssen Sie auch an die Aufgaben herangehen, welche von Ihnen als Redner zu lösen sind: Wenn sich auch nur ganz wenige, und diese wenig angeregt, zunächst finden bei der ersten Rede, dann ist eigentlich schon ein Maximum desjenigen erreicht, was erreicht werden kann. Es handelt sich ja bei Dingen, für die man so drinnensteht im Leben wie etwa für die Dreigliederung des sozialen Organismus, darum, daß dann dasjenige, was auf rednerischem Wege geleistet werden kann, eben niemals fallengelassen werden darf, sondern aufgefangen werden muß und auf irgendeine Weise fortgebildet werden muß, sei es durch weitere Reden, sei es in irgendeiner anderen Weise, Man kann sagen: Keine Rede ist eigentlich vergeblich, welche aus dieser Gesinnung heraus gehalten wird und an die sich eben dann das Nötige anschließt.

Aber man muß sich völlig klar darüber sein, daß man auch bei einer proletarischen Bevölkerung eigentlich, wenn man gerade aus dem heraus spricht, was sie heute denkt im Sinne ihrer Theorien, wie sie seit Jahrzehnten bestehen, daß man auch da durchaus mißverstanden wird. Man kann sich nicht etwa die Frage stellen: Wie macht man es nun, damit man nicht mißverstanden wird? — Man muß es nur richtig machen! Aber darum kann es sich gar nicht handeln, sich etwa die Frage vorzulegen: Wie macht man es denn, damit man nicht mißverstanden wird? — Sie ist nicht schwer zu lösen, die Frage: Wie macht man es, damit man nicht mißverstanden wird? — Man sagt den Leuten, was sie ohnedies schon gedacht haben! Man tradiert ihnen irgendwie Marxismus oder so etwas. Dann wird man natürlich verstanden.

Aber es liegt ja kein Interesse vor, in dieser Weise verstanden zu werden. Sonst wird man ja sehr bald die folgende Erfahrung machen — über diese Erfahrung muß man sich völlig klar sein —: Redet man heute zu einer Proletarierversammlung so, daß sie wenigstens die Terminologie verstehen kann — und das muß man anstreben —, dann wird man, insbesondere in der Diskussion, bemerken, daß diejenigen, die diskutieren, nichts verstanden haben. Die anderen lernt man meistens nicht kennen, weil sie sich nicht an den Diskussionen beteiligen. Die nichts verstanden haben, beteiligen sich gewöhnlich nach solchen Reden an den Diskussionen. Und bei denen wird man eben etwas bemerken, was in der folgenden Linie liegt. Unzählige Reden habe ich selber gehalten über die Dreigliederung des sozialen Organismus vor, wie man es in Deutschland nennt, «Mehrheits-Sozialdemokraten», unabhängigen «Sozialdemokraten», Kommunisten und so weiter. Nun, man wird da bemerken: Wenn sich nun jemand in der Diskussion hinstellt und glaubt, reden zu können, so ist es ja meistens so, daß er einem antwortet, als ob man eigentlich gar nicht geredet hätte, sondern als ob irgend jemand geredet hätte so, wie man ungefähr als sozialdemokratischer Agitator vor dreißig Jahren in Volksversammlungen geredet hätte. Man fühlt sich plötzlich ganz verwandelt. Man sagt sich ungefähr: Ja, sollte dir denn das Malheur passiert sein, daß du besessen warst in diesem Momente von dem alten Bebel? Denn so wird dir ja eigentlich entgegengetreten! Die Betreffenden hören selbst physisch nichts anderes, als was sie gewohnt sind, seit Jahrzehnten zu hören. Selbst physisch hören sie sonst nichts — nicht etwa bloß seelisch -, selbst physisch hören sie nur, was sie lange gewohnt sind. Und dann sagen sie: Ja, eigentlich hat uns der Vortragende gar nichts Neues gesagt! — Denn sie haben, weil man genötigt war, die Terminologie zu gebrauchen, sofort schon im Ohr — nicht erst in der Seele — den ganzen Zusammenhang der Terminologie übersetzt in das, was sie seit langem gewohnt gewesen sind. Und dann reden sie weiter fort im Sinne dessen, was sie seit langem gewohnt gewesen sind.

So ungefähr verliefen unzählige Diskussionen. Höchstens, daß manchmal eine neue Nuance dadurch in die Sache hineinkam, daß die Kommunisten nun von ihrem neu errungenen Standpunkte aus auftraten und nun etwa erklärten: Vor allen Dingen sei es notwendig, daß man die politische Macht habe! Es sei ja ganz natürlich - ich rede aus der Erfahrung heraus und gebe Beispiele, die durchaus vorgekommen sind —, daß man zuerst die politische Macht habe! Und wenn — so sagte zum Beispiel einmal einer -, wenn er die politische Macht hätte, sagen wir zum Beispiel — so meinte er - als Polizeiminister, so würde er ja auch nicht als Standesbeamten sich selber anstellen, denn er sei ein Schuhflicker, und er könne sehr gut einsehen, daß ein Schuhflicker von den Verpflichtungen eines Standesbeamten nichts wisse. Er würde durchaus nicht, wenn er Polizeiminister wäre, da er ein Schuhflicker sei, sich selber als Standesbeamten anstellen! - Er merkte nicht, daß er eigentlich implicite sagte: Zum Polizeiminister gerade angestellt zu werden, fühle er sich ganz gut berufen, aber zum Standesbeamten durchaus nicht! Das war für die Diskussion eine Art neuer Nuance. Die Nuancen waren ja ungefähr immer in diesem Stil gehalten.

Nun, trotzdem aber müssen wir uns klar sein, daß, weil wir eben verstanden werden sollen, aus der Seele der Leute heraus geredet werden muß. Das Unterbewußte geht dennoch nämlich, wenn aus der Seele heraus geredet wird, in einem gewissen Sinne mit. Insbesondere, wenn im übrigen die Rede so angeordnet worden ist, wie ich es schon angedeutet habe und wie ich es im weiteren auseinandersetzen werde. Aber wir müssen dann über dasjenige, was in Betracht kommt, wirklich aus der Erfahrung, das heißt in diesem Falle, aus den Erfahrungen des proletarischen Empfindens heraus formulierbare Begriffe haben.

Nehmen wir einmal das geistige Glied des dreigliedrigen sozialen Organismus. In bezug auf dieses geistige Glied hat der Proletarier seit dem’ Heraufkommen des Marxismus sich sehr deutliche Begriffe herausgebildet, nämlich den Begriff der Ideologie. Er sagt: Geistesleben, das hat für sich gar keine Wirklichkeit. Religion, Rechtsbegriffe, Sittenbegriffe und so weiter, Kunst, Wissenschaft selber, das ist nichts für sich. Für sich existieren eigentlich nur wirtschaftliche Prozesse. Man kann verfolgen in der weltgeschichtlichen Entwickelung, wie das wahrhaft Wirkliche in der Art und Weise besteht, wie die eine Schichte der Bevölkerung zu der anderen steht im Wirtschaftsleben. Darnach, wie die eine Schichte der Bevölkerung zu der anderen steht im Wirtschaftsleben, darnach müssen sich ganz von selbst, wie eine Art Rauch, der daraus hervorsteigt, die Begriffe, die Empfindungen in Religion, Wissenschaft, Kunst, Sitte, Recht und so weiter bilden. Das sind keine Wirklichkeiten, Recht, Sitte, Religion, Kunst, sondern eine Ideologie. — Diesen Ausdruck «Ideologie», mit dem Gefühl, wie ich es eben jetzt charakterisiert habe, ihn konnte man hören seit Jahrzehnten in allen sozialdemokratischen oder sonstigen proletarischen Versammlungen. Und es war geradezu ein besonders ausgebildetes Erziehungsmittel, den Menschen zum Verständnis zu bringen: Die bürgerliche Bevölkerung spricht von der Wahrheit an sich, von dem Werte der Wissenschaft, von dem Werte der Religion, von dem Werte der Sittlichkeit, der Kunst -, aber das ist ja alles nichts in Wirklichkeit für sich, sondern das alles sind die Schaumbilder, die aufsteigen aus dem wirtschaftlichen Prozesse. Einer der Führer der proletarischen Welt, Franz Mehring, hat diese Sache ja bis zum besonderen Radikalismus getrieben in einem Buche «Die Lessing-Legende».

Da war erschienen ein allerdings nicht sehr bedeutendes Buch eines Bourgeoisprofessors, des Erich Schmidt, über Lessing. Es ist deshalb nicht sehr bedeutend, weil darin nicht eigentlich Lessing behandelt wird, sondern eine Statue aus Papiermaché, welche fälschlich «Lessing» genannt wird, und an die Erich Schmidt die Bemerkungen und Erzählungen und Mitteilungen anknüpft, deren er eben durch seine besondere Begabung oder Unbegabung fähig war. Man hat es gar nicht mit einem Menschen zu tun in diesem Buche, sondern mit einer Statue aus Papiermaché, genannt «Lessing». Daß dieser Bourgeoisprofessor keine besonders klaren Vorstellungen hatte über den lebendigen Lessing, sondern nur über einen Papiermaché-Lessing, das ging mir schon hervor, als das Buch «Lessing» von Erich Schmidt noch gar nicht geschrieben war, als ich Erich Schmidt reden hörte in Wien in einer Rede in der Wiener Akademie der Wissenschaften, wo er so die ersten Anfänge der ersten Kapitel dieses Lessing-Buches zusammengefaßt vorgebracht hatte als eine Rede. Ich war dazumal eigentümlich berührt von dieser Rede, die so recht zeigte, wie man eben, wenn man sonst in eine gewisse soziale Position hineingestellt ist und reden darf, also selbst vor einer erlauchten Akademie der Wissenschaften, eigentlich inhaltlich gar nichts zu sagen braucht. Denn bei den wichtigsten Stellen, wo Erich Schmidt damals etwas vorbrachte, was charakteristisch sein sollte für die Persönlichkeit, die er besprach, da sagte er immer, indem er irgend etwas heraushob aus Lessings Arbeitsweise und aus Lessings Schreibweise: Das ist echt Lessingsch! — Und dieses Wort: Das ist echt Lessingsch! -, das hörte man, ich glaube, fünfzigmal während dieser Akademierede.

Nun, wenn man es zu tun hat mit dem Ernst Müller aus Neu-Babelsberg und man ihn zu charakterisieren hat, so wird man mit genau demselben Inhalt sagen können, wenn man erzählt seine besondere Art, wie er, sagen wir, seinen Misthaufen in Ordnung bringt: Das ist echt Müllersch! — Man wird etwas gesagt haben, das ein ganz gleich schweres Gewicht hat.

Man hatte es also zu tun mit etwas außerordentlich Unbedeutendem. Aber ein richtiger sozialdemokratischer Schriftsteller, wie Franz Mehring war, der schrieb dies Unbedeutende des Erich Schmidtschen Lessing-Buches dem Umstande zu, daß eben Erich Schmidt ein Bourgeoisprofessor war, und er sagte: Das ist eben ein Bourgeoisprodukt. — Und jetzt stellte er sein proletarisches Produkt dagegen. «Die LessingLegende» nannte er dieses Buch. Da wird nun untersucht, in welchen wirtschaftlichen Verhältnissen Lessings Voreltern gelebt haben, was sie getrieben haben, wie dann Lessing selber in der Jugend ins Wirtschaftsleben hineingestellt worden ist, wie er Journalist werden mußte, wie er Geld pumpen mußte — das ist ja auch ein wirtschaftlicher Zusammenhang — und so weiter. Kurz, es wird gezeigt, wie Lessings «Laokoon»-Auffassung, wie Lessings «Hamburgische Dramaturgie», wie Lessings «Minna von Barnhelm» so sein mußten, wie sie eben sind, dadurch, daß Lessing aus diesen bestimmten wirtschaftlichen Verhältnissen herausgewachsen ist.

Nach dem Muster dieses Buches «Die Lessing-Legende» des Parteigelehrten Mehring hat dann einmal ein Schüler meiner Arbeiterbildungsschule — ich habe ja jahrelang eine Arbeiterbildungsschule versorgt, auch in der Redelehre - in einer Proberede bewiesen, daß die Kantsche Philosophie eben einfach aus den wirtschaftlichen Verhältnissen hervorgegangen ist, aus denen Kant sich entwickelt hat. Und ähnliche Dinge begegneten einem da immer und können einem wohl auch noch heute begegnen, obwohl sie heute mehr oder weniger schon zur Phrase geworden sind. Aber es war durchaus so. Und das hat bedeutet, daß über das geistige Leben der moderne Proletarier überhaupt die Anschauung hatte: Alles, was im geistigen Leben vorhanden ist, ist Ideologie.

In bezug auf das staatlich-rechtliche Leben, da läßt der Proletarier nur gelten, was sich wiederum innerhalb der wirtschaftlichen Verhältnisse als Beziehung von Mensch zu Mensch herausstellt. Das sind aber für ihn die Klassen. Die herrschende Klasse beherrscht die anderen Klassen. Und derjenige, der innerhalb der Klasse steht, entwickelt dann das Klassenbewußtsein. So daß eigentlich dasjenige, was der moderne Proletarier von dem staatlich-rechtlichen Leben begreift, die Klasse ist, und was ihm nahegeht, das Klassenbewußtsein ist.

Das dritte Glied des sozialen Organismus ist das wirtschaftliche. Auch da sind innerhalb des Proletariats streng umrissene Begriffe, und der Mittelpunktsbegriff, der immer wiederum gefunden wird, ebenso wie die Begriffe Ideologie und Klassenbewußtsein, das ist der Begriff des Mehrwertes. Der Proletarier begreift: Wenn gewirtschaftet wird, so kommt im wirtschaftlichen Produkt ein bestimmter Wert zum Vorschein; von diesem Werte bekommt er als Lohn einen bestimmten Teil, das andere geht fort für irgend etwas anderes. Das bezeichnet er als «Mehrwert» und beschäftigt sich nun mit diesem Mehrwert, von dem er das Gefühl hat, daß er ihm von dem Werte seiner Arbeitsprodukte genommen werde.

Man kann, indem man die Dinge so durchdenkt, sehen, wie in der Tat innerhalb derjenigen Bevölkerungsklasse, die sich als die aktive, als die eigentlich aggressive in der neueren Zeit heraufgebildet hat, deutlich umrissene Begriffe für die drei Gebiete des dreigliedrigen sozialen Organismus vorhanden sind. Das soziale Leben offenbart sich in dreifacher Weise - würde etwa ein richtiger proletarischer Theoretiker sagen -, es offenbart sich erstens durch seine Wirklichkeit, durch die wertproduzierende Wirtschaft. Diese wertproduzierende Wirtschaft liefert aus dem wirtschaftlichen Leben selbst den Mehrwert. Durch die Machtverhältnisse, die sich herausbilden, werden im wittschaftlichen Leben als in der einzigen Wirklichkeit die sozial tätigen Menschen in Klassen zerspalten, so daß sie, wenn sie über ihren Menschenwert nachdenken, zu dem Klassenbewußtsein, nicht zu dem Menschenbewußtsein kommen. Und dann entwickelt sich als dasjenige, was man für den Sonntag gern hat, was man braucht — aber auch so zwischendurch -, damit die Maschinen richtig ausgedacht werden, damit man auch ab und zu in freien Stunden, nicht wahr, Erfindungen machen kann und so weiter, dann entwickelt sich die Ideologie, die sich aber ergibt als ein Rauchprodukt aus der eigentlichen Wirklichkeit, aus dem wirtschaftlichen Leben.

Ich karikiere ganz gewiß nicht, sondern ich schildere, was in Millionen, nicht etwa in Tausenden, sondern in Millionen von Köpfen lebte in den Jahrzehnten, die dem Kriege vorausgegangen sind, und was sich auch durch den Krieg fortsetzte. Der Proletarier hat also schon einen Begriff von der Dreigliederung des sozialen Organismus in sich, und man kann da anknüpfen.

Man kann noch in weiterem Sinne anknüpfen. Man kann anknüpfen daran, daß sich in der neueren Zeit im Grunde genommen das wirtschaftliche Leben, weil es ja seine eigene Notwendigkeit in sich trägt, besonders entwickelt hat, und daß die anderen Lebenselemente, das geistige Leben und das staatlich-rechtliche Leben, zurückgeblieben sind. Im wirtschaftlichen Leben konnten die Menschen nicht zurückbleiben. Sie mußten erst zum Weltverkehr, dann zur Weltwirtschaft im letzten Drittel des 19. Jahrhunderts übergehen. Da liegt eine innere Notwendigkeit. Das macht sich in gewissem Sinne von selbst, bis man es ruiniert, wie es durch den Krieg geschehen ist. Aber weil die anderen Dinge nicht nachgekommen sind, weil sich in den anderen Dingen ein abstrakter Intellektualismus entwickelt hat, wurde die Empfindung vom Wirtschaftsleben in hervorragendem Maße einflußreich, wirkte in erster Linie durch ihren Charakter suggestiv auf alle Bevölkerung. Und was da suggestiv wirkte, das hat sich nicht etwa nur in den Vorstellungen festgelegt, sondern das ist zu Einrichtungen geworden. Der Intellektualismus hat allmählich das soziale Leben ganz ergriffen.

Dem Intellektualismus ist eigen die Abstraktion, das Abstrakte. Man hat im Leben, sagen wir, Butter; man hat im Leben, sagen wir, eine Raffaelsche Madonna; man hat im Leben, sagen wir, eine Zahnbürste; man hat im Leben, sagen wir, ein philosophisches Werk; man hat im Leben, sagen wir, einen Pudertigel für Frauen und so weiter. Im Leben gibt es ja viel, nicht wahr. Ich könnte ja diese Reihe lange fortsetzen. Aber Sie werden nicht bestreiten, daß diese Dinge sehr, sehr verschieden voneinander sind, und daß, wenn man sich Begriffe machen will von all diesen Dingen, diese Begriffe, diese Vorstellungen sehr, sehr verschieden voneinander werden. Aber im neueren sozialen Leben entwickelte sich doch etwas, was außerordentlich bedeutsam wurde für alle Lebensverhältnisse, und was gar nicht so sehr differenziert ist. Denn, sagen wir, Butter von einer gewissen Menge kostet zwei Franken; eine Raffaelsche Madonna kostet zwei Millionen Franken; eine Zahnbürste kostet vielleicht jetzt bloß zweieinhalb Franken; ein philosophisches Werk — es wird vielleicht am billigsten sein —, das kostet, sagen wir, im Einzelexemplar vielleicht, wenn es dünn ist, siebzig Rappen; ein Pudertigel, wenn er besonders gut ist, zehn Franken.

Jetzt haben wir die ganze Sache auf gleich gebracht! Jetzt brauchen wir bloß das, was ja auch wiederum auf ein Feld gehört, die Zahlen, verschieden zu nehmen. Aber wir haben eine Abstraktion, den Geldpreis, über alles ausgebreitet.

Das hat sich ganz besonders eingelebt in die Denkweise der Menschen, wenn sich die Menschen das auch nicht immer gestehen. Gewiß, derjenige, der ein Dichter ist, hält sich selbstverständlich für den Mittelpunkt der Welt, der beurteilt sich dann nicht so; ebensowenig derjenige, der ein Philosoph ist und so weiter. Oder erst gar der, der ein Maler ist! Aber die Welt beurteilt diese Sachen heute alle in diesem Stil in der sozialen Bewertung der Menschen. Und da kommt es schon zuletzt heraus, daß, sagen wir, ein Dichter für einen Verleger — von dem Zeitraume an, wo er angefangen hat, seinen Roman zu schreiben, bis zu der Zeit, wo er ihn beendet hat -, wenn der Verleger edel ist, dieser Dichter zehntausend Franken wert ist. Das ist also der Preis eines Dichters für eine gewisse Zeit, nicht wahr. Wir haben ihn auch auf die gleichwertige Abstraktion gebracht. [Es wird an die Tafel geschrieben. ]

2.— Fr. Butter
2 000 000.— Fr. Raffaelsche Madonna
2.50 Fr. Zahnbürste
—.70 Fr. Philosophisches Werk
10.— Fr. Pudertigel
10 000.— Fr. Dichter
3.— Fr. Tägliche Arbeitskraft

Nun ich könnte auch da mancherlei Beispiele anführen; aber ich habe schon gesagt: Die Bourgeoisie dachte ja über diese Dinge nicht sehr tief nach. Der Dichter hält sich natürlich in seinem Oberstübchen — ich meine jetzt dasjenige, das in einer Etage weit oben gelegen ist — für etwas ganz Besonderes, aber im sozialen Leben, da war er halt eben zehntausend Franken wert. Aber er achtete es nicht, wenn er nicht gerade dem Proletariat angehörte. Er achtete das nicht. Aber der Proletarier achtete das. Der zog nämlich aus alledem die Konsequenz: Du hast nicht Butter, du hast nicht Puder, du hast kein philosophisches Werk, aber du hast deine Arbeitskraft; die bietest du dem Fabrikanten an, und die ist für den Fabrikanten, sagen wir, täglich drei Fran ken wert: Tägliche Arbeitskraft.

Daß ich hierher geschrieben habe «Dichter», das müssen Sie mir verzeihen aus dem Grunde, weil man die Erfahrung machen konnte, daß der Dichter eben noch um ein Stückchen schlechter behandelt worden ist im Laufe der letzten Jahrzehnte als der Proletarier mit seiner täglichen Arbeitskraft. Denn der letztere konnte sich noch besser wehren als der Dichter, und die zehntausend Franken für den Dichter waren in der Regel nicht mehr wert als die drei Franken Arbeitslohn für die proletarische Arbeitskraft, mit Ausnahme von einzelnen natürlich, wie es ja selbstverständlich war, daß solche Dichter wie zum Beispiel — ich weiß nicht, ob sich viele noch an sie erinnern — die selige Marlitt, die ja ganz großartig verdient hat mit dem «Geheimnis der alten Mamsell», was ein Roman ist, über den die beste Kritik wohl die wäre, wie einmal einer gesagt hat: O Buch, wärest du doch das Geheimnis der alten Mamsell geblieben!

Nun, der Arbeiter dachte nach über das, was er dadurch geworden ist, daß er in die Abstraktion der Preise hineingestellt worden ist, respektive seine Arbeitskraft da hineingestellt worden ist. Und was ist denn etwas im Wirtschaftsleben dadurch, daß es einen Preis hat? Es ist eine Ware. Als Ware im wirtschaftlichen Leben muß alles gelten, wofür eben ein Preis bezahlt werden kann. Ich sagte, das Leben der Bourgeoisie verläuft mit einer gewissen Gleichgültigkeit gegenüber solchen Sachen. Aus dem Proletariat aber kamen diese Begriffe herauf, und dadurch entstand der Begriff: Wir selber sind mit unserer Arbeitskraft zu einer Ware geworden.

Das ist etwas, was nun mit den drei anderen Begriffen zusammengewirkt hat. Und wer eigentlich das moderne Leben richtig versteht, der weiß, wenn er die vier Begriffe Ideologie, Klassenbewußtsein, Mehrwert, Arbeitskraft als Ware richtig versteht, so daß er sich mit diesen vier Begriffen erfahrungsgemäß hineinstellen kann in das Leben, daß er mit diesen vier Begriffen zunächst die Bewußtseinsrealität trifft, die gerade bei der aktiven Bevölkerung, bei derjenigen Bevölkerung, die bewußt eine Umwandelung der sozialen Verhältnisse will, vorhanden ist. Und so hat man denn die Aufgabe, darüber nachzudenken, wie man diese vier Begriffe zu behandeln hat.

Wenn man nun eine Zuhörerschaft hat gemischt aus Proletariern und bourgeoiser Bevölkerung, da wird man nötig haben, so zu sprechen, daß man zunächst bemerklich macht, wie der Proletarier notwendigerweise zu diesen Dingen kommen mußte, wie der Proletarier durch das moderne Leben nichts hat kennen lernen können als die Vorgänge des Wirtschaftslebens. So ist es ja geworden, sagen wir seit der Mitte des 15. Jahrhunderts. Da fängt es langsam an. Denn gehen wir zurück hinter diese Mitte des 15. Jahrhunderts, so sehen wir, wie im Wesen der Mensch noch zusammenhängt mit seinem Produkte. Wer einen Schlüssel macht, legt seine Seele in diesen Schlüssel hinein. Wer einen Schuh macht, legt seine Seele in den Schuh hinein. Und ich bin ganz gewiß, daß bei den Menschen, bei denen sich diese Dinge in gesunder Weise fortentwickelt haben, keine Verachtung irgendeiner solchen Sache vorhanden war. Ich bin völlig davon überzeugt — nicht nur subjektiv überzeugt, sondern solche Dinge kann man schon beweisen, wenn es darauf ankommt -: Jakob Böhme hat ganz gewiß ebensogerne seine Stiefel gemacht wie seine philosophischen Werke, seine mystischen Werke geschrieben, oder Hans Sachs zum Beispiel. Diese Dinge — daß das eine verachtet wird, was materiell ist, das andere überschätzt wird, was geistig ist —, die sind auch erst mit dem Intellektualismus und seinen Abstraktionen auf allen Gebieten heraufgekommen. Es ist eben dieses eingetreten, daß der Mensch durch das moderne wirtschaftliche Leben, in das die Technik sich hineinergossen hat, von seinem Produkte getrennt worden ist, so daß ihn keine wirkliche Liebe mehr mit dem Produzieren verbinden kann. Es werden die Leute, die noch für gewisse Berufszweige mit dem Produzieren Liebe entwickeln, immer seltener und seltener. Nur bei den sogenannten geistigen Berufszweigen ist diese Liebe noch vorhanden. Daher das Unnatürliche in der sozialen Verteilung und selbst Gliederung in der neueren Zeit. Man muß schon nach dem Osten hinübergehen — heute wird es vielleicht auch nicht mehr möglich sein, aber vor Jahrzehnten war es so —, um da noch Berufsfreude zu finden. Ich muß gestehen, ich war tief entzückt, geradezu ergriffen, als ich vor Jahrzehnten in Budapest einen Haarschneider, den ich in Anspruch nahm zum Haarschneiden, kennenlernte, und der immer herumtanzte um mich und, nachdem er wiederum etwas mit der Schere heruntergekriegt hatte, sagte, indem er den Spiegel nahm: Ein wunderbarer Schnitt, den ich da mache! Ein wunderbarer Schnitt, den ich da mache! - Bitte, suchen Sie sich heute in der eigentlichen Zivilisation noch solchen begeisterungsfähigen Haarschneider!

Was also eingetreten ist, ist die Trennung des Menschen von seinem Produkte. Es ist ihm gleichgültig geworden. Er wird an die Maschine hingestellt. Was interessiert ihn diese Maschine! Sie interessiert ja höchstens — nicht einmal mehr den Konstrukteur, sondern höchstens den Erfinder, und das Interesse, das der Erfinder daran hat, ist meistens kein wirklich soziales. Denn das soziale Interesse fängt erst dann an, wenn man den möglichen Wert für die Rendite herausfinden kann, nun ja, wenn man also die Geschichte auf den Preis reduziert hat.

Dasjenige aber, was vorzugsweise der moderne Proletarier kennengelernt hat, das ist das Wirtschaftsleben. In das ist er hineingestellt. Soll er an das geistige Leben herangehen, so hängt ihm das nirgends mit seinem unmittelbaren seelischen Leben zusammen. Es bewegt nicht die Seele. Er nimmt es als etwas Fremdes auf, als Ideologie. Es liegt im modernen geschichtlichen Prozeß, daß sich diese Ideologie entwickelt hat.

Gelingt es Ihnen aber erst, eine Empfindung in dem Proletarier hervorzurufen, daß das so ist, dann haben Sie den Anfang dessen erreicht, was Sie erreichen sollen. Denn der Proletarier hört Sie heute zunächst mit dem Gefühl an: Es liegt ja in einer absoluten Naturnotwendigkeit, daß alle Kunst, alle Wissenschaft, alle Religion, alles Ideologie ist. Weit, weit entfernt liegt es ihm, daran zu denken, daß er mit dieser Anschauung ja eben gerade nur das Produkt der neuzeitlichen Entwickelung geworden ist. Es ist sehr schwer, ihm das begreiflich zu machen. Merkt er es, dann kehrt er mit seiner ganzen Denkweise um, dann wird es ihm schrecklich, daß alles nur eine Ideologie sein soll, dann wird er sich des ganz Illusionären dieser Anschauung bewußt. Er ist sozusagen derjenige, der am besten dazu vorbereitet ist, über die Tatsache, daß alles zur Ideologie geworden ist, Ekel zu empfinden; aber Sie müssen bis zur Empfindung kommen. Die Gedanken, die Sie darüber entwickeln oder bei sich selber entwickelt haben, die interessieren den Zuhörer nicht. Sie bringen ihn in der Weise, wie ich es geschildert habe, zum Fühlen der Sache. Denn es handelt sich darum, daß man die Sache für die Proletarier auf diese Weise, indem man einzelnen seiner Sätze diese Färbung gibt, zurechtrückt.

Für die Bourgeoisie muß man die Sache wieder anders zurechtrücken, denn, was für die Proletarier sehr gut ist, das ist für die Bourgeoisie auf diesem Gebiete sehr schlecht. Und es handelt sich nicht darum, daß man bloß richtig redet, sondern bei der heutigen Mannigfaltigkeit des Lebens handelt es sich darum, daß man gut redet, in dem gestrigen Sinne, und daß man auch, soweit es geht, für den Bourgeois redet. Diesem Bourgeois muß man nun klarmachen, daß er ja dadurch, daß er gegenüber dem, was heraufgezogen ist, gleichgültig war, die Sache hat kommen machen. Durch seine Betätigung oder vielmehr Nichtbetätigung ist die Sache so geworden, daß sie für den Proletarier Ideologie geworden ist. Dem Bourgeois muß man dann begreiflich machen: Religion war einmal etwas, was den ganzen Menschen mit innerer Glut erfüllte, aus dem alles hervorgegangen ist, was der Mensch im Grunde genommen in der äußeren Welt auszuführen hat. Sitte war dasjenige, was den Menschen für das soziale Leben heilig war. Kunst war etwas, wodurch sich der Mensch hinweghalf über die Härten und Schweren des physischen Lebens und so weiter. Aber wie ist im Verlaufe der letzten Jahrhunderte der Wert dieser geistigen Güter hinuntergesunken! So wie der Bourgeois sie hält, so kann sie der Arbeiter nicht mehr anders denn als Ideologie empfinden.

Nehmen wir einmal den Fall an, der Arbeiter käme aus irgendeinem Grunde ins Kontor des Unternehmers. Er hat so seine Ansichten über den ganzen Gang des Unternehmens. Nehmen wir an, der Buchhalter, zu dem er gerufen worden ist, oder der Unternehmer selbst ist eben hinausgegangen. Da liegt ein großes Buch, in das vieles eingetragen ist. Über die Art und Weise, wie diese Zahlen dadrinnen sprechen, hat der Arbeiter so seine Ansichten. Die hat er sich ja eben entwickelt. Nun, weil der Buchhalter oder der Unternehmer gerade draußen ist und er um eine halbe Minute zu früh gekommen ist, da blättert er um und schlägt die erste Seite auf. Da steht: «Mit Gott!» Da wird er aufmerksam, daß nun wahrhaftig dieses religiöse Element, daß da auf der ersten Seite «Mit Gott!» steht, nun wirklich die reine Ideologie ist, denn daß nun wirklich nicht viel «mit Gott» ist, was auf den folgenden Seiten des Buches steht, davon ist der Arbeiter ganz überzeugt. Das liegt ganz in dem Stile, wie er sich die Weltverhältnisse überhaupt denkt: So viel ist von dem wahr, was die Leute Religion, Sitte und so weiter nennen, wie in diesem Buche von dem wahr ist, was auf der ersten Seite steht: «Mit Gott». Ich weiß nicht, ob in der Schweiz in diesen Büchern auch auf der ersten Seite steht «Mit Gott!»; aber es ist sehr verbreitet, daß man sein Kassabuch, Journal und so weiter «Mit Gott» hat.

Es handelt sich also darum, daß man dem Bourgeois klarmacht: Er ist der Veranlasser, daß beim Proletariat die Auffassung entstanden ist von der Ideologie.

Dann hat jeder seinen Teil. Dann ist man so weit, daß man nun auseinandersetzen kann, wie das geistige Leben wiederum Realität gewinnen muß, weil es ja zur Ideologie wirklich geworden ist. Wenn man vom Geiste nur Ideen hat, nicht den Zusammenhang mit dem wirklichen geistigen Sein und Wesen, dann ist es eben eine Ideologie. So bekommt man von da aus die Brücke zu dem Gebiet, auf dem man eine Vorstellung hervorrufen kann von der Realität des geistigen Lebens. Und dann wird es einem möglich, darauf hinzuweisen, wie das geistige Leben eben eine in sich geschlossene Realität, nicht ein Produkt des wirtschaftlichen Lebens, nicht eine bloße Ideologie ist, sondern ein in sich selbst gegründetes Reales ist. Ein Empfinden muß man dafür hervorrufen, daß das geistige Leben ein in sich begründetes Reales ist. Ein in sich begründetes Reales ist etwas anderes als ein in sich bloß abstrakt Begründetes, denn das abstrakt Begründete muß von woanders aus begründet sein.

Der Proletarier sagt: Die Ideologie ist von dem wirtschaftlichen Leben aus begründet. — Insofern aber der Mensch sich in seinem geistigen Leben nur abstrakten Ideen hingibt, ist das eben auch durchaus etwas Rauchartiges, etwas Illusionäres. Erst wenn man durch dieses Rauchartige, durch dieses Illusionäre, durch die Idee zu der Realität des Geisteslebens durchdringt, wie es durch Anthroposophie geschieht, erst dann kann wiederum das geistige Leben als ein reales empfunden werden. Wenn das geistige Leben nur eine Ideologie ist, so strömen eben diese Ideen herauf aus dem wirtschaftlichen Leben. Da muß man sie organisieren, da muß man ihnen eine künstliche Wirksamkeit und Organisation verschaffen. Das hat ja auch der Staat getan. In dem Zeitalter, wo das geistige Leben in Ideologie verdunstete, hat der Staat es in die Hand genommen, um der Sache wenigstens die Realität, die man nicht in der geistigen Welt selber erlebt hat, zu geben.

So muß man versuchen, begreiflich zu machen, wie dasjenige, was der Staat unberechtigterweise dem geistigen Leben gegeben hat, da es Ideologie geworden ist, Realität hat. Es muß ja doch eine Realität haben. Wenn man eben keine eigenen Beine hat und doch gehen will, muß man sich künstliche machen lassen. Es muß ja etwas, um zu existieren, Realität haben. Aber das geistige Leben soll seine eigene Realität haben. Das muß man empfinden, daß das geistige Leben seine eigene Realität haben muß.

Zunächst werden Sie allerdings paradox wirken, sowohl bei der bürgerlichen wie bei der proletarischen Bevölkerung. Und Sie müssen ein Bewußtsein davon hervorrufen, daß Sie paradox wirken. Das können Sie dadurch, daß Sie eben gerade bei den Leuten, die Ihnen zuhören, eine Vorstellung davon hervorrufen, daß Sie schon ebenso denken, wie der Proletarier, indem Sie aus seiner Sprache heraus reden, wie der Bürgerliche, indem Sie aus seiner Sprache heraus reden. Dann aber, nachdem Sie solches entwickelt haben, was mit Hilfe jener Erinnerung, die man an Erfahrungen im Leben haben kann, möglich ist, nachdem Sie so etwas in der Vorbereitung durchgemacht haben, kommen Sie dazu, zu den Menschen so zu sprechen, daß nach und nach ein Verständnis für die Dinge hervorgerufen werden kann, für die es eben hervorgerufen werden muß.

Reden kann man nicht durch eine äußerliche Anleitung lernen. Reden muß man gewissermaßen dadurch lernen, daß man das hinter dem Reden liegende Denken und das vor dem Reden liegende Erfahren zu dem Reden in ein richtiges Verhältnis zu bringen versteht.

Nun habe ich eben heute versucht, Ihnen zu zeigen, wie der Stoff zunächst behandelt werden muß. Ich habe an Bekanntes angeknüpft, um Ihnen zu zeigen, wie der Stoff nicht aus irgendeiner Theorie heraus geschöpft werden darf, wie er aus dem Leben heraus gefaßt werden muß, wie er zubereitet werden muß, um ihn dann rednerisch zu behandeln. Was ich heute gesprochen habe, das sollte eigentlich jeder in seiner Art nun selber machen als Vorbereitung für das Reden. Dadurch, daß man solche Vorbereitung macht, wird die Rede eindringlich. Dadurch, daß man denkerische Vorbereitungen macht — Vorbereitungen zur Gliederung der Rede, wie ich im Anfange der heutigen Ausführungen gesagt habe: von einem Gedanken, der dann gestaltet wird zur Komposition —, dadurch wird die Rede übersichtlich, so daß der Zuhörer sie auch als Einheit bekommen kann. Durch das, was der Redner mitbringt an Denken, soll er nicht in seine eigenen Gedanken hineinwirken. Denn wenn er seine eigenen Gedanken gibt, sind sie, wie ich schon gesagt habe, so, daß sie keinen einzelnen Menschen interessieren. Erst dadurch, daß man sein eigenes Denken verwendet, um die Rede zu gliedern, dadurch wird sie übersichtlich, und durch das Übersichtliche verständlich.

Durch die Erfahrungen, die der Redner überall zusammensuchen soll — die schlechtesten Erfahrungen sind noch immer besser als gar keine! — wird die Rede eindringlich. Wenn Sie zum Beispiel irgend jemandem erzählen, was Ihnen passiert ist, meinetwillen als Sie durch ein Dorf gingen, wo Ihnen beinahe einer eine Ohrfeige gegeben hat, so ist es noch immer besser, wenn Sie aus einer solchen Erfahrung heraus das Leben beurteilen, als wenn Sie bloß theoretisieren. Heraus aus der Erfahrung die Dinge holen, durch die die Rede Blut bekommt, denn durch das Denken hat sie nur Nerven. Blut bekommt sie durch die Erfahrung, und durch dieses Blut, das aus der Erfahrung kommt, wird die Rede eindringlich. Zum Verstande der Zuhörer reden Sie durch die Komposition, zum Herzen der Zuhörer reden Sie durch Ihre Erfahrung. Das ist es, was man wie eine goldene Regel betrachten soll. Nun, wir können Schritt für Schritt vorwärtsgehen. Ich wollte zunächst heute mehr im groben zeigen, wie man den Stoff allmählich umwandeln kann zu dem, was er dann in der Rede zu sein hat. Dann morgen um drei Uhr wieder Fortsetzung.

Third Lecture

One of the tasks that a speaker can set themselves in a particular field is to first thoroughly familiarize themselves with the material they are to cover. There are two ways of familiarizing oneself with the material, insofar as communicating this material through speech is concerned. The first is to acquire the material for a corresponding speech in such a way that one can structure it, that one is, so to speak, in a position to give the speech a composition. Without composition, a speech cannot really be understood. The listener may like one thing or another in an uncomposed speech, but in reality, an uncomposed speech is not absorbed. Insofar as preparation is considered, it must therefore be understood that every speech is bound to be poorly received by the audience if it has been created simply by imagining one statement after another, one sentence after another, and going through them one by one in preparation. If one is not able to see the whole speech as a whole at least at some stage of the preparation, then one cannot really expect to be understood. The first thing to do is to let the whole speech emerge, as it were, from a comprehensive idea that one structures, and to let the composition develop by starting from such a unified idea that encompasses the whole speech.

The second step is to draw on all the experiences you have had in your immediate life that are relevant to the subject of the speech, i.e., recall as much as possible everything you have experienced directly in the matter in question, and, once you have a kind of composition for the speech in front of you, try to incorporate your experiences into this composition here and there.

This will generally be the outline for preparation. In preparation, one then has the whole speech in front of one as in a tableau. And one has this tableau in front of one so precisely that, as will naturally be the case, one can place the individual experiences one remembers in any way one likes, as if one had written them down on paper: a, b, c, d, and now one had an experience; you know it belongs under d, another under f, another belongs under a, so that you are, in a sense, independent of the sequence of thoughts as they are to be presented later in relation to this collection of experiences. Whether you do this by putting it down on paper or by processing it freely without the aid of paper will only depend on the fact that those who rely on paper will speak less well, and those who do not rely on paper will speak somewhat better. But of course you can do both.

Now, however, it is a matter of completing a third step, which is that, once you have the whole on the one hand—I never say “the skeleton”—and the individual experiences on the other, you need to develop the ideas that arise to such an extent that these things can stand before the soul to your complete inner satisfaction.

Let us take as an example the case where we want to give a speech on threefolding. Here we will say to ourselves: after an introduction, which we will discuss later, and before a conclusion, which we will also discuss later, the composition of such a speech is actually given by the subject matter itself. The unified idea is given by the subject matter itself. I say this with regard to this example. If one lives properly spiritually, this actually applies to every single case; it applies equally to everything. But let us take this example of the threefold social organism, which is close to us and which we want to talk about. It is given from the outset that the treatment of our topic will result in three parts. We will have to deal with the nature of spiritual life, the nature of legal and political life, and the nature of economic life.

Now, of course, it will be a matter of using an appropriate introduction — which, as I said, we will discuss later — to give our listeners a sense that it makes sense at all to talk about these things, about a change in these things, in the present. But then it will be a matter of not immediately starting with explanations of what is meant by a free spiritual life, by a legal and political life based on equality, by an economic life based on associations, but rather of leading people to these things. And we will have to lead them there by building on what is currently most prominent in the three members of the social organism, what can be most intensely observed by people today. Only in this way will we be able to build on what is familiar.

Let us assume that we have an audience, and such an audience can be most pleasant and sympathetic to us, consisting of a mixture of the bourgeois population and the proletarian population — the latter with all possible nuances — and if, of course, there are also a few aristocrats, even Swiss aristocrats, then that does no harm at all. So let's assume we have an audience made up of a mixture of all social classes. I emphasize this because, as a speaker, you should always have a feel for who you are addressing before you start speaking. You should really put yourself in that situation.

Now, what should you first say to yourself about what you can relate to today's audience in terms of the threefold social organism? You will say to yourself: It is extremely difficult to connect with the concepts of the bourgeois audience at first, because the bourgeoisie has formed very few ideas about social conditions in recent times, because it has, so to speak, vegetated thoughtlessly in relation to social life. It would always make an academic impression if one wanted to talk about these things from the circle of ideas of a bourgeois audience today. On the other hand, however, it should be clear that within the proletarian population there are extremely pronounced concepts, pronounced feelings, and also a pronounced social will regarding all three areas of the social organism. And it is precisely the hallmark of our time that these developed concepts exist within the proletarian population.

However, we must treat these concepts with great caution, because we will very easily give rise to the prejudice that we want to be biased toward the proletarian direction. We should actually combat this prejudice through the whole manner of our conduct. We will, of course, see that if we start from proletarian concepts, we will initially expose ourselves to serious misunderstandings. These misunderstandings did indeed arise continuously during the period when it was still possible to work in Central Europe, from April 1919 onwards, for the threefold social order. A bourgeois population hears only what it has felt for decades from the agitational behavior of the proletariat when it hears certain terms. How one actually feels about the matter is hardly understood at first.

One must be clear that working in the world must be understood, I would say, in the sense of the world order. The world order is such — you only need to look at the fish in the sea — that very, very many fish embryos are laid, and only a few become fish. That is how it must be. But you must also approach the tasks that you as a speaker have to solve with this natural tendency in mind: even if only very few, and these few uninspired, are found at first in the first speech, then the maximum of what can be achieved has actually already been achieved. When it comes to things that are so deeply rooted in life, such as the threefold social organism, it is important that what can be achieved through public speaking is never abandoned, but must be taken up and developed in some way, whether through further speeches or in some other way. One could say: No speech is actually in vain if it is given out of this conviction and if it is followed by the necessary action.

But one must be completely clear that even with a proletarian population, if one speaks directly from what they think today in terms of their theories, as they have existed for decades, one will also be completely misunderstood. One cannot ask oneself the question: How can one avoid being misunderstood? — One must simply do it right! But that cannot be the issue, to ask oneself the question: How can one avoid being misunderstood? — It is not difficult to answer the question: How can one avoid being misunderstood? — You tell people what they already thought! You pass on Marxism or something like that to them somehow. Then, of course, you will be understood.

But there is no interest in being understood in this way. Otherwise, you will very soon have the following experience — you must be completely clear about this experience —: If you speak to a proletarian assembly today in such a way that they can at least understand the terminology — and that is what you must strive for — then you will notice, especially in the discussion, that those who are discussing have understood nothing. You usually don't get to know the others because they don't participate in the discussions. Those who have understood nothing usually participate in the discussions after such speeches. And with them, you will notice something along the following lines. I myself have given countless speeches on the threefold social order to what are known in Germany as “majority Social Democrats,” independent “Social Democrats,” Communists, and so on. Well, one will notice that when someone stands up in the discussion and thinks they can speak, they usually respond as if one had not actually spoken at all, but as if someone else had spoken, in the manner of a social democratic agitator speaking at public meetings thirty years ago. One suddenly feels completely transformed. You say to yourself: Yes, should you have had the misfortune of being possessed by the old Bebel at that moment? Because that's how you're actually being confronted! The people concerned hear nothing else physically than what they have been used to hearing for decades. Physically, they hear nothing else — not just emotionally — physically, they only hear what they have been used to hearing for a long time. And then they say: Yes, actually, the speaker didn't tell us anything new! — Because they were forced to use the terminology, they immediately translated the whole context of the terminology into what they have been accustomed to for a long time, not just in their souls, but in their ears. And then they continue to talk in the sense of what they have been accustomed to for a long time.

Countless discussions went something like this. At most, a new nuance was sometimes introduced by the fact that the communists now presented themselves from their newly acquired standpoint and declared, for example, that above all else it was necessary to have political power! It was quite natural — I speak from experience and give examples that have actually occurred — to have political power first! And if—as one of them once said—if he had political power, say, for example, as Minister of Police, he would not appoint himself as a registrar, because he was a cobbler and he could well understand that a cobbler knew nothing about the duties of a registrar. If he were Minister of Police, he would certainly not appoint himself as a registrar, since he was a cobbler! He did not realize that he was actually saying implicitly: he felt quite well qualified to be appointed Minister of Police, but certainly not as a registrar! This was a kind of new nuance for the discussion. The nuances were always kept in this style, more or less.

Well, nevertheless, we must be clear that, because we want to be understood, we must speak from the soul. When we speak from the soul, the subconscious goes along with us in a certain sense. This is especially true when the speech has been arranged as I have already indicated and as I will discuss further. But then we must have concepts that can be formulated from experience, that is, in this case, from the experiences of proletarian sentiment.

Let us take the spiritual member of the threefold social organism. With regard to this spiritual member, the proletarian has developed very clear concepts since the advent of Marxism, namely the concept of ideology. He says: spiritual life has no reality in itself. Religion, concepts of law, concepts of morality, and so on, art, science itself, these are nothing in themselves. Only economic processes actually exist in themselves. One can trace in world historical development how the truly real consists in the way one stratum of the population relates to another in economic life. According to how one stratum of the population relates to another in economic life, the concepts and feelings in religion, science, art, customs, law, and so on must form quite naturally, like a kind of smoke rising from it. These are not realities, law, customs, religion, art, but an ideology. This expression “ideology,” with the feeling I have just characterized, could be heard for decades in all social democratic or other proletarian gatherings. And it was a particularly effective educational tool for helping people understand that the bourgeois population speaks of truth itself, of the value of science, of the value of religion, of the value of morality, of art—but in reality, none of this is anything in itself; rather, it is all foam rising from economic processes. One of the leaders of the proletarian world, Franz Mehring, took this idea to the extreme in a book entitled “The Lessing Legend.”

A book about Lessing by a bourgeois professor, Erich Schmidt, was published, although it was not very significant. It is not very significant because it does not actually deal with Lessing, but with a papier-mâché statue falsely called “Lessing,” to which Erich Schmidt attaches the remarks, stories, and communications that he was capable of producing due to his particular talent or lack thereof. This book is not about a human being at all, but about a papier-mâché statue called “Lessing.” It was already clear to me that this bourgeois professor did not have particularly clear ideas about the living Lessing, but only about a papier-mâché Lessing, even before Erich Schmidt had even written the book “Lessing” by Erich Schmidt had not yet been written, when I heard Erich Schmidt speak in Vienna in a speech at the Vienna Academy of Sciences, where he had summarized the first beginnings of the first chapters of this Lessing book as a speech. At the time, I was strangely moved by this speech, which showed so clearly how, when you are placed in a certain social position and allowed to speak, even before an illustrious Academy of Sciences, you don't really need to say anything of substance. For at the most important points, where Erich Schmidt presented something that was supposed to be characteristic of the personality he was discussing, he always said, highlighting something about Lessing's working methods and writing style: “That's really Lessing!” — And this phrase, “That's really Lessing!”, was heard, I think, fifty times during this academy speech.

Now, if you are dealing with Ernst Müller from Neu-Babelsberg and you have to characterize him, you will be able to say exactly the same thing when you describe his special way of, let's say, tidying up his manure heap: That's really Müllersch! — You will have said something that carries just as much weight.

So we were dealing with something extraordinarily insignificant. But a true social democratic writer like Franz Mehring attributed the insignificance of Erich Schmidt's book on Lessing to the fact that Erich Schmidt was a bourgeois professor, and he said: This is simply a bourgeois product. — And now he contrasted it with his proletarian product. He called this book " He called this book “The Lessing Legend.” It examines the economic circumstances in which Lessing's ancestors lived, what they did, how Lessing himself was introduced to economic life in his youth, how he had to become a journalist, how he had to borrow money—which is also an economic context—and so on. In short, it shows how Lessing's conception of “Laocoon,” Lessing's “Hamburg Dramaturgy,” and Lessing's “Minna von Barnhelm” had to be the way they are, because Lessing grew out of these particular economic circumstances.

Following the pattern of this book, “The Lessing Legend” by the party scholar Mehring, a student at my workers' education school — I taught at a workers' education school for many years, including in public speaking — once proved in a trial speech that Kant's philosophy simply arose from the economic circumstances in which Kant developed. And similar things were always encountered there and can still be encountered today, although they have more or less become mere phrases. But that was certainly the case. And that meant that the modern proletarian had the following view of intellectual life: everything that exists in intellectual life is ideology.

With regard to state and legal life, the proletarian only accepts what turns out to be the relationship between people within the economic conditions. But for him, these are the classes. The ruling class dominates the other classes. And those who belong to a class develop class consciousness. So what the modern proletarian actually understands about state and legal life is class, and what concerns him is class consciousness.

The third link in the social organism is the economic one. Here, too, there are strictly defined concepts within the proletariat, and the central concept that is always found, just like the concepts of ideology and class consciousness, is the concept of surplus value. The proletarian understands that when economic activity takes place, a certain value emerges in the economic product; he receives a certain portion of this value as wages, while the rest goes to something else. He refers to this as “surplus value” and is now concerned with this surplus value, which he feels is being taken from him from the value of his labor products.

By thinking things through in this way, one can see how, within the class of the population that has emerged as the active, indeed aggressive class in recent times, there are clearly defined concepts for the three areas of the threefold social organism. Social life manifests itself in three ways, a true proletarian theorist would say. First, it manifests itself through its reality, through the value-producing economy. This value-producing economy provides surplus value from economic life itself. Through the power relations that develop, socially active people are divided into classes in economic life as the only reality, so that when they reflect on their human value, they arrive at class consciousness rather than human consciousness. And then, as something that people like to have on Sundays, something they need—but also in between—so that machines can be properly designed, so that people can make inventions in their free time, and so on, an ideology develops, but it emerges as a byproduct of actual reality, of economic life.

I am certainly not caricaturing, but rather describing what lived in millions, not thousands, but millions of minds in the decades preceding the war, and what continued through the war. The proletarian therefore already has a concept of the threefold social organism within himself, and one can build on that.

One can build on this in a broader sense. One can build on the fact that, in recent times, economic life has developed particularly rapidly because it has its own internal necessity, while the other elements of life, spiritual life and state and legal life, have lagged behind. People could not lag behind in economic life. They first had to move on to global trade, then to the global economy in the last third of the 19th century. There is an inner necessity here. In a sense, this happens automatically until it is ruined, as happened as a result of the war. But because the other things did not follow suit, because an abstract intellectualism developed in the other areas, the perception of economic life became extremely influential, primarily exerting a suggestive effect on the entire population. And what had a suggestive effect did not just become established in people's minds, but became institutionalized. Intellectualism gradually took over social life completely.

Intellectualism is characterized by abstraction, by the abstract. In life, we have, say, butter; in life, we have, say, a Raphael Madonna; in life, we have, say, a toothbrush; in life, we have, say, a philosophical work; in life, we have, say, a powder compact for women, and so on. There is a lot in life, isn't there? I could go on with this list for a long time. But you will not dispute that these things are very, very different from each other, and that if one wants to form concepts of all these things, these concepts, these ideas, will be very, very different from each other. But in recent social life, something has developed that has become extremely significant for all circumstances of life, and which is not so very differentiated. For example, let's say that a certain amount of butter costs two francs; a Raphael Madonna costs two million francs; a toothbrush now costs perhaps only two and a half francs; a philosophical work—perhaps the cheapest—costs, say, seventy centimes for a single copy, if it is thin; a powder compact, if it is particularly good, costs ten francs.

Now we have brought the whole thing to the same level! Now we just need to take the numbers, which again belong to one field, differently. But we have spread an abstraction, the monetary price, over everything.

This has become particularly ingrained in people's way of thinking, even if they don't always admit it. Certainly, a poet naturally considers himself the center of the world and does not judge himself in this way, nor does a philosopher, and so on. Or even more so, a painter! But today, the world judges all these things in this way in its social evaluation of people. And so it ultimately turns out that, let's say, a poet is worth ten thousand francs to a publisher—from the time he starts writing his novel to the time he finishes it—if the publisher is noble. So that is the price of a poet for a certain period of time, isn't it? We have also reduced it to an equivalent abstraction. [It is written on the board. ]

2.— Fr. Butter
2,000,000.— Fr. Raphael's Madonna
2.50 Fr. Toothbrush
—.70 Fr. Philosophical work
10.— Fr. Powder compact
10,000.— Fr. Poet
3.— Fr. Daily labor

Now, I could also cite many examples, but as I have already said: The bourgeoisie did not think very deeply about these things. The poet naturally considers himself to be something very special in his upper chamber—I mean the one located on a high floor—but in social life, he was worth ten thousand francs. But he did not respect it unless he belonged to the proletariat. He did not respect it. But the proletarian did. He drew the following conclusion from all this: you don't have butter, you don't have powder, you don't have a philosophical work, but you have your labor power; you offer that to the manufacturer, and it is worth, say, three francs a day to the manufacturer: daily labor power.

You must forgive me for writing “poet” here, because experience has shown that poets have been treated even worse than proletarians with their daily labor over the last few decades. For the latter were able to defend themselves better than the poet, and the ten thousand francs for the poet were generally no more valuable than the three francs wage for the proletarian laborer, with the exception of a few, of course, as was to be expected, such as poets like, for example—I don't know if many still remember her — the blessed Marlitt, who earned a great deal with “The Secret of the Old Maid,” a novel about which the best criticism would probably be, as someone once said: O book, if only you had remained the secret of the old maid!

Well, the worker thought about what he had become as a result of being placed in the abstraction of prices, or rather, his labor power being placed there. And what is something in economic life because it has a price? It is a commodity. In economic life, everything for which a price can be paid must be considered a commodity. I said that the life of the bourgeoisie proceeds with a certain indifference to such things. But these concepts arose from the proletariat, and this gave rise to the concept: we ourselves have become a commodity with our labor power.

This is something that has now interacted with the other three concepts. And anyone who truly understands modern life knows that if they correctly understand the four concepts of ideology, class consciousness, surplus value, and labor power as a commodity, so that they can use these four concepts to understand life based on experience, so that they can use these four concepts to first encounter the reality of consciousness that exists among the active population, among those who consciously want to transform social conditions. And so one has the task of thinking about how to deal with these four concepts.

If one has an audience consisting of a mixture of proletarians and bourgeois, one will need to speak in such a way that one first points out how the proletarian necessarily had to come to these things, how the proletarian, through modern life, has been able to learn nothing but the processes of economic life. This is how it has been since the middle of the 15th century, let's say. That's when it slowly began. For if we go back beyond the middle of the 15th century, we see how human beings were still connected to their products. Whoever makes a key puts his soul into that key. Whoever makes a shoe puts his soul into that shoe. And I am quite certain that among people for whom these things developed in a healthy way, there was no contempt for any such thing. I am completely convinced of this — not only subjectively convinced, but such things can be proven when it comes down to it: Jakob Böhme certainly enjoyed making his boots just as much as writing his philosophical works, his mystical works, or Hans Sachs, for example. These things — that the material is despised and the spiritual is overrated — only came about with intellectualism and its abstractions in all areas. What has happened is that modern economic life, into which technology has poured itself, has separated man from his products, so that no real love can connect him to production anymore. People who still develop a love for production in certain professions are becoming increasingly rare. Only in the so-called intellectual professions does this love still exist. Hence the unnaturalness in social distribution and even structure in recent times. One has to go to the East—today it may no longer be possible, but decades ago it was—to find professional joy there. I must confess that I was deeply delighted, even moved, when, decades ago in Budapest, I met a barber whom I used to have my hair cut by, and who always danced around me and, after he had cut something off with his scissors, said, taking the mirror: What a wonderful cut I'm doing! What a wonderful cut I'm giving you! Please, try to find such an enthusiastic barber in today's so-called civilization!

What has happened, then, is the separation of man from his product. He has become indifferent to it. He is placed in front of the machine. What does he care about this machine! At most, it interests not even the designer, but at most the inventor, and the interest that the inventor has in it is usually not really social. For social interest only begins when one can determine the possible value for the return, that is, when one has reduced the story to the price.

But what the modern proletarian has come to know best is economic life. That is what he is placed in. If he is to approach intellectual life, it has nothing to do with his immediate emotional life. It does not move the soul. He perceives it as something foreign, as ideology. It is part of the modern historical process that this ideology has developed.

But if you first succeed in evoking a feeling in the proletarian that this is so, then you have achieved the beginning of what you are supposed to achieve. For today, the proletarian initially listens to you with the feeling that it is an absolute natural necessity that all art, all science, all religion, everything is ideology. It is far, far removed from his mind to think that with this view he has become precisely the product of modern development. It is very difficult to make him understand this. If he realizes it, then he reverses his entire way of thinking, then it becomes terrible to him that everything should be only ideology, then he becomes aware of the completely illusory nature of this view. He is, so to speak, the one who is best prepared to feel disgust at the fact that everything has become ideology; but you must come to this feeling. The thoughts you develop or have developed yourself are of no interest to the listener. You bring him to feel the matter in the way I have described. For it is a matter of setting the matter straight for the proletarians in this way, by giving individual sentences this coloring.

For the bourgeoisie, you have to put things in a different perspective, because what is very good for the proletariat is very bad for the bourgeoisie in this area. And it is not a matter of merely speaking correctly, but with today's diversity of life, it is a matter of speaking well, in yesterday's sense, and also, as far as possible, speaking for the bourgeoisie. It must now be made clear to this bourgeoisie that, by being indifferent to what has arisen, it has brought about the situation. Through his actions, or rather his inaction, the situation has become such that it has become ideology for the proletariat. We must then make the bourgeoisie understand that religion was once something that filled the whole person with inner fervor, from which everything that man has to do in the external world basically emerged. Morality was what was sacred to man for social life. Art was something that helped man overcome the hardships and difficulties of physical life, and so on. But how the value of these spiritual goods has declined over the last few centuries! The way the bourgeois holds them, the worker can no longer perceive them as anything other than ideology.

Let us assume that, for some reason, the worker comes into the entrepreneur's office. He has his own views on the entire running of the business. Let us assume that the accountant, to whom he has been summoned, or the entrepreneur himself, has just left the room. There is a large book lying there, in which many things are recorded. The worker has his own views on the way these figures speak to him. He has just developed them. Now, because the accountant or the entrepreneur is out and he has arrived half a minute early, he turns the page and opens the first page. It says: “With God!” He then realizes that this religious element, that “With God!” on the first page, is really pure ideology, because the worker is quite convinced that there is not really much “with God” in the following pages of the book. This is entirely in keeping with the way he thinks about the world in general: as much of what people call religion, customs, and so on is true as is true of what is written on the first page of this book: “With God.” I don't know whether in Switzerland these books also say “With God!” on the first page, but it is very common to have one's cash book, journal, and so on “with God.”

So it is a matter of making it clear to the bourgeoisie that they are the ones who have caused the proletariat to develop this view of ideology.

Then everyone has their part. Then we are ready to discuss how spiritual life must regain reality, because it has indeed become ideology. If we only have ideas about the spirit, without any connection to real spiritual being and essence, then it is simply ideology. From there, one can build a bridge to the realm where one can evoke an idea of the reality of spiritual life. And then it becomes possible to point out how spiritual life is a self-contained reality, not a product of economic life, not a mere ideology, but a reality founded in itself. One must evoke a feeling that spiritual life is a reality founded in itself. A reality founded in itself is something different from something founded in itself merely abstractly, for that which is founded abstractly must be founded from somewhere else.

The proletarian says: Ideology is founded on economic life. — But insofar as human beings devote themselves only to abstract ideas in their spiritual life, this is also something quite nebulous, something illusory. Only when one penetrates through this nebulousness, through this illusion, through the idea, to the reality of spiritual life, as happens through anthroposophy, only then can spiritual life be perceived as real again. If spiritual life is only an ideology, then these ideas flow up from economic life. They must be organized, they must be given an artificial effectiveness and organization. This is what the state has done. In an age when spiritual life evaporated into ideology, the state took it upon itself to at least give the matter the reality that was not experienced in the spiritual world itself.

So we must try to make it understandable how what the state has unjustifiably given to spiritual life, since it has become ideology, has reality. It must have a reality. If you don't have your own legs and still want to walk, you have to have artificial ones made. Something must have reality in order to exist. But spiritual life should have its own reality. One must feel that spiritual life must have its own reality.

At first, however, you will appear paradoxical, both to the bourgeois and to the proletarian population. And you must create an awareness that you appear paradoxical. You can do this by giving the people who are listening to you the impression that you already think like the proletarian, by speaking in his language, and like the bourgeois, by speaking in his language. But then, after you have developed this, which is possible with the help of the memories that one can have from life experiences, after you have gone through this in preparation, you will come to speak to people in such a way that, little by little, an understanding can be created for the things for which it must be created.

You cannot learn to speak through external instruction. You must learn to speak, in a sense, by understanding how to bring the thinking behind speech and the experience before speech into the right relationship with speech.

Today I have tried to show you how the material must first be treated. I have drawn on familiar material to show you how the subject matter must not be drawn from some theory, how it must be taken from life, how it must be prepared in order to then be dealt with oratorically. What I have spoken about today is something that everyone should now do in their own way as preparation for speaking. By making such preparations, the speech becomes forceful. By making mental preparations—preparations for structuring the speech, as I said at the beginning of today's remarks: from a thought that is then shaped into a composition—the speech becomes clear, so that the listener can also perceive it as a unity. The speaker should not influence his own thoughts with what he brings to the table. For when he expresses his own thoughts, they are, as I have already said, of no interest to any individual. It is only by using one's own thoughts to structure the speech that it becomes clear, and through clarity, understandable.

Through the experiences that the speaker should gather from everywhere — even the worst experiences are still better than none at all! — the speech becomes forceful. For example, if you tell someone what happened to you, say, when you were walking through a village where someone almost slapped you, it is still better to judge life based on such an experience than to merely theorize. Draw from experience the things that give the speech life, because thinking alone gives it only nerves. Experience gives it life, and through this life that comes from experience, the speech becomes powerful. You speak to the minds of your listeners through composition, and you speak to their hearts through your experience. This is what should be considered a golden rule. Now, we can proceed step by step. Today, I wanted to show you in broad terms how you can gradually transform the material into what it should be in speech. Then tomorrow at three o'clock we will continue.