The Rudolf Steiner Archive

Report in an unknown Cologne newspaper

Birth and death in the life of the soul. A look at the theosophical worldview. On Monday evening, Dr. Rudolf Steiner from Berlin gave a lecture on this topic at the Theosophical Society (Cologne Section), which was attended by almost 100 people in the Isabellensaal of the Gürzenich. The thought process of the captivating two-hour speech is briefly summarized here.

Those who are not completely absorbed in material life will have to ask themselves the questions: What happens to us after death, what were we before we were born? These questions have been raised by the oldest philosophers. From the conversation of the dying Socrates with his students, it becomes clear to us that Socrates firmly believed in the continued life of his soul. This belief has been further developed by his student Plato. He asked the question: “Why do we live?” It was clear to him that the purpose of our life could not be fulfilled with the death of the body. Through birth, our life is essentially already predetermined. The environment into which we are born determines whether we live in wealth or poverty, in joy or sorrow, whether our spirit will progress or remain at a lower level. Should death be the fulfillment of life for the poor and ignorant? Only rarely does a person die without desires; they indicate that there must be another life for us in which we can achieve higher development. The body is indeed perishable, but our spirit is eternal. It can never be a product of the body. The body draws its nourishment from the physical, while the spirit draws its from the spiritual. What the spirit has absorbed does not perish. The truth and goodness that allow the spirit to reach a higher level are eternal. The outstanding physiologist Wilhelm Preyer said: “Everything physical perishes and disintegrates into its component parts, but the power and the movement remain.” Speaker adds to this saying: and the spirit is lasting. If we believe in the eternity of the soul, we must also assume that our soul continues to develop and that there is a highest level of this development. To achieve this, the soul will embody itself again and again. The doctrine of reincarnation has been more or less expressed by the founders of the great religions, and our great sages believed in it. The speaker reminds the audience of Giordano Bruno, Lessing, Goethe and of natural scientists of the past and the present. Even in the early centuries of Christianity, the belief in reincarnation prevailed. But in the Middle Ages it was lost. At that time, man knew only heaven and earth. Today, however, when we have progressed far in our knowledge of nature, it has become necessary to study our soul again on the basis of this view of nature. Like the lily in the field, which fades away and leaves behind a seed in which all the power to bring forth a new plant like itself lies dormant, so the soul of man returns again and again in a new body. These are not speculative thoughts that have led to this belief, but what highly developed people have seen with the spiritual eye. This study of the soul is called Theosophy. In a narrative style, Redner now provides insight into the theosophical worldview. He explains how a person consists of three parts. The outer shell is the perishable body, which encloses the soul, which gives one the ability to grasp the perceptions of the outside world, to feel joy and sorrow, love and hate. These soul-substances separate from the body soon after death and spread out into the universe. But the core of the human being is formed by the spirit. The spirit, which is only possessed by humans and not by highly developed animals, is eternal and will always return to a human body until it has reached the highest level and entered the spiritual realm.

The speaker's remarks were met with enthusiastic applause. It may interest you to know that Dr. Steiner was formerly a librarian at the Goethe Archive in Weimar and was involved in editing the scientific journals for the great Weimar collection.

(The Physical, Mental And Spiritual Entities Of Man) Reincarnation And Karma (Re-embodiment Of The Spirit And Destiny)

Report in the “Stadt-Anzeiger” of April 29, 1905, morning edition, second page

On Tuesday, Dr. Rudolf Steiner, the Secretary General of the German branch of the Theosophical Society, spoke about the three entities of the human being: physical, mental and spiritual. On Thursday, he discussed the basic concepts of theosophy, reincarnation and karma, and the re-embodiment of the spirit and destiny. In the lectures, the speaker explained how the human being is made up of different entities and how the practical mystic, by undergoing a certain training, is able to turn his attention completely away from the physical body so that he no longer sees it, but instead looks at the space filled by a similar one, the etheric body, which is extraordinarily finely organized and is the carrier of life. In the ordinary person, it is just as mortal as the physical body. The third is the astral body, the carrier of desire and suffering, wish and passion; the fourth limb, the actual self, dwells in it. If, according to the speaker, the human being develops further, then the transformed astral body comes to manas, the fifth limb of the human being; in the same way, the human being can transform his ether body into budhi; and the immortal seventh limb of the being is the highest state of perfection.

In the second lecture, Dr. Steiner spoke about the meaning of life and evoked two ideas: the question of reincarnation and that of human destiny. Reincarnation, as the speaker explained, means nothing less than that man has to recognize something eternal and lasting in human nature, that this lasting is not exhausted in the time between birth and death, but that life continues after death, in order to later embody itself anew and take up the cycle again. We are not dealing with one human life, but with many, and with the fact that what is present has already been there and will return. Above all birth and death there is something higher that reaches beyond it; life shows itself in ever new repetition. As science teaches, only life can arise from life; theosophy adds that the soul can only arise from the soul. In the case of humans, the individual is described, in the case of animals, the species; humans have a biography, animals do not; individuality belongs to humans alone, that is what remains, as in the case of animals, the species. Just as humans belong to the animal kingdom, Theosophy describes them, like natural science, as a species, but as an individuality, their essence as a species is not exhausted. Through his activity and way of life, the human being in the next life transforms his individuality spiritually, just as the animal changes physically within many generations through a changed way of life. We have determined our destiny through our previous activity and determine destiny for future lives. The practical mystic and the wise see only experiences and lessons in pain and suffering, which they would not want to miss because they have learned to overcome them. The speaker concluded his lecture by saying that as long as man does not work on himself, external forces will work on him. The more he frees himself from these, the more man becomes master of his destiny, as far as it is bound to his astral body, and can cope with karma. This also explains the words of a great Theosophist: Man is not immortal, he makes himself immortal. — The lectures, which were received with approval, were followed by stimulating discussions.

Report in the “Mühlheimer Zeitung”, No. 667, December 5, 1905

a. Cologne, December 4. Last Friday and Saturday, the General Secretary of the German Section of the Theosophical Society, Dr. Rudolf Steiner, gave two fascinating and significant lectures in the Isabellensaal of the Gürzenich. On Friday, the speaker talked about “the origin of the world”, and, following on from that, on Saturday about “the creation of man”; both topics were illuminated from the point of view of the theosophist. In the first lecture, the great difference between the theosophical and materialistic views of the creation of the world was pointed out. Theosophy brings the old teachings of creation, which in our days have been dismissed as childish and naive, and which were tried in their creation, into mythical form to approach the understanding of contemporaries, to reintroduce them. A glance at these old teachings shows that they all have the same basic idea about the creation of the world, only expressed in different ways. The ancient Germans killed the giant [Ymir], the Egyptians killed Osiris, and created a world from their parts; even the later accounts of creation only appear to be different. The sacrifice of the god would be necessary everywhere in religions to develop a world or culture. In religions, therefore, the divine spirit is placed at the beginning of events, through it matter is animated, the inanimate is made alive. In our days, since Kant-Laplace, one imagines the creation of the earth from a primeval nebula that was in a rotating motion. From this, the world bodies formed. Similar to how smaller drops separate from a large rotating drop of oil in a glass of water due to the vibration, according to today's view, the gradually formed ball of matter hurls smaller ones, thus producing suns and planets. Even if Theosophy accepts this genesis as far as it takes place in matter, this view does not satisfy the Theosophist, because the modern theory does not answer the question of how spirit came to earth and how life entered this matter. The speaker continued by saying that the answer to this cannot be given scientifically or speculatively; it is only possible to gain clarity about this through one's own inner development. Goethe emphasized that every physical apparatus used as a research tool must be placed above the human being himself, whose organs represent instruments of a much higher order. Goethe also pointed out that the great world outside finds its true reflection in us and that there is no force in the environment that does not also apply to the inside of the human being; that is why he directly related the world around us as the macrocosm to the world within us, as the microcosm. Just as we are connected with a visible world, we are also connected with an invisible one. The human being as a physical organism forms the pinnacle of life, which is also expressed in the fact that he can say “I” to himself. This is not possible for any other being; nor can this “I” say “I” to another, rather each person can only say “I” to themselves. With the I, the human being presents himself as the crown, the perfection of physical life, but only at the beginning of the spiritual world. In the environment, as the mirror image of our inner world, we see at the beginning of the physical world the perfect spiritual world. The religions now place the sacrifice of God at the forefront of creation for the reason that God not only wanted to create a beautiful and wise world, but also a loving one. But true love can only exist in freedom, so he had to, as it were, immerse himself in the world, lose himself in it, so that we can recognize him around us and, of our own free will, engage with his spirit and develop in the direction of his spirit. When the ancient Egyptians conceived of their Osiris as resting in sleep in the world, they thereby demonstrated a fine understanding of the ancient wisdom teachings and the essence of all religions.

In the second lecture, Dr. Steiner began by noting that the question of human descent is connected to what we understand by human destiny. As a theosophist, one must have a different view of human descent than the materialists. Today, human beings only partially reveal the characteristic features of their entire nature; to obtain a complete picture of the human being, it would be necessary to consider what these have looked like in the various phases of development. In addition to the physical body, one must also speak of an etheric body in humans, which represents the actual body of life, and an astral body, which, as a sentient soul body, first created the physical body according to ancient theosophical wisdom. For, according to the theosophical view, we create our bodily form out of the spirit, through the soul, the speaker said. Depending on the external circumstances, the spirit and the soul have built up the outer appearance and adapted it to the given circumstances. At the time of the Atlantean civilization, the culture of

a lost continent situated between America and Europe, the conditions on Earth and in the atmosphere were quite different than they are today. The people of that time mastered their environment through their inherent spiritual powers and not through reason, as we do today. He could directly put the forces of nature, such as the life force, as it is present in plants, for example, into his service; it was only much later that man developed the ability to think. Theosophy must reject what modern researchers have claimed, that man descended from apes; even the latest research already contradicts this theory. No researcher has been able to prove that man is a further development of the ape species. If one wants to accept this, then there must necessarily have been a regression in the gibbon, the ape species whose skull is closest to that of modern humans, namely a regression of its colossal arms and hands. But this contradicts every reasonable theory of evolution. Theosophy presents the relationship between humans and animals – and especially between humans and apes – in such a way that humans and apes once shared a common stage of development, at a time long before the Atlantic one. From this common stage, the spiritually inclined man developed from his similarly designed companion, who was bound by lower instincts, to the heights of humanity, while the latter degenerated into bestiality. This view of theosophy corresponds to its fundamental conception of the relationship between man and his environment, which is most closely related to him. In stone, in plants, in animals, the theosophist recognizes soul-related beings that are subject to laws similar to his own, for, according to the theosophical view, in order to become a human being, he must first develop through all the kingdoms of nature. The speaker, whose captivating presentation we can only hint at here, was met with enthusiastic applause.

Report in the “Mühlheimer Zeitung”, No. 86, February 16, 1906

Cologne, February 15. On Monday and Wednesday, Dr. Rudolf Steiner, the General Secretary of the German Section of the Theosophical Society, spoke in the Isabellensaal of the Gürzenich about two topics that may be of the greatest interest to us, since they deal with the inner development and the future of humanity. In his first lecture on 'the inner development of man', the speaker pointed out the aspirations and tasks of the Theosophical Society, which aim to form the core of a general brotherhood of humanity without distinction of faith, nation, class, or sex, and to cultivate the knowledge of the core of truth of all religious life, as well as to explore the deeper spiritual powers that lie dormant in human nature and in the rest of the world. One of the tasks of Theosophy is to promote and develop the abilities and powers lying dormant in man in a school-oriented way. Although this must be regarded as one of the tasks of Theosophy, it is not mandatory for every member of the Theosophical Society to undergo such inner schooling with the help of knowledgeable teachers; rather, it is entirely left to the discretion of the individual. Such schooling is only desirable when it is something that the person is drawn to from the bottom of their hearts. The development of inner abilities in esoteric circles was practiced in ancient times, as it has always been. In ancient times, this took place in secret schools, and later in more intimate circles of societies and orders. In the esoteric schools, the aim is to systematically explore the physical, mental and spiritual forces that are now working in confusion within the human being, in such a way that the soul and spirit become master over him and master the physical instincts. Theosophy teaches that man belongs to three realms: the physical, the soul and the spiritual, and that his being is subject to the laws of these realms. Knowledge of these laws promotes a person's inner development. First of all, it is necessary to listen to the teachings of the knowledgeable in the spiritual realm without prejudice and to let them take effect, because one does not initially have the spiritual tools to penetrate into the higher worlds. Therefore, the first thing that must be demanded of the disciple is unreserved, unbiased devotion. He must be able to make himself, as it were, an empty vessel into which the foreign world flows; he must become completely selfless and master of his pleasure and displeasure. He must accept pleasure and pain with composure; furthermore, he must strictly regulate his thinking, and this should take on the inner character of the spiritual world. Plato demanded that those accepted into his school first undergo a mathematical course of study so that their thinking would be a reflection of undisturbed mathematical thinking and reasoning; then the laws of the spiritual world would flow into the student. From his thinking, he must then allow his actions to be influenced. Thus, arbitrariness is nowhere to be seen, only conformity to law. Then the human being becomes free of all sense perception; his spiritual self is released from the sense-perceptible coverings. Thus he becomes a disciple of wisdom, a homeless human being who lives only in the spirit; he no longer lives only with the things that are formed by the spirit, but with the forming spirit itself. All doubt and superstition soon fade away, for he knows that the true form of the spirit is freedom from personality, doubt and superstition. To attain higher knowledge, man must acquire four qualities. First, he must learn to distinguish the eternal from the temporal, truth from mere inclination; second, he must learn to appreciate the eternal and real in relation to the transitory and unreal; third, he must develop six qualities: control of thought and action, persistence, tolerance, faith and equanimity; and fourth, he must develop the desire for liberation. These are the stages on the path to higher inner knowledge.

In the second lecture, Dr. Steiner used the theosophical worldview to sketch out an image of the future of humanity. He explained that human destiny is not limited to what happens between birth and death. Otherwise, it would have to be seen as an unjustifiable phenomenon that one person enters the world with all the prerequisites for a happy existence, while another, spiritually and physically backward, has no prospect of a good life. These phenomena can only be explained if one does not see the life between birth and death as the only one that man experiences. Man, said the speaker, must be considered from the point of view of development. Just as there are individual highly developed or lowly developed people, there are also entire nations that are more or less developed. These facts suggest that man acquires abilities in his previous life and what he acquires in this life he will gain in later lives. Nothing in the world is without cause, everything is in the closest relationship. All the spiritual knowledge we possess today we have acquired through our work in previous lives. Theosophists call the law that determines our destiny the law of karma. It states that everything we have acquired in the way of work and virtues, and everything we have committed in the way of mistakes and transgressions, must become recognizable in this or another life and regulates and determines our existence in a lawful manner. This view is what makes our existence understandable in the first place and allows us to recognize our relationships with the world around us. After death, the physical body, as an organism living on the mineral plane, falls back to the mineral plane, to the earth matter; it dissolves into it. But the soul remains in the soul world to which it belongs until the physical-sensory influences that the body has worked into it have been eliminated. This first period of the soul in the soul world is a painful one for it, because it cannot live out the desires, instincts and passions inherited from the physical body, since it lacks the physical organs for this. The soul must overcome the physical-sensual side of its nature, but then the soul also dissolves in the soul world and the human spirit now has the way free to enter the spiritual realm. There it brings with it the experiences it has gathered in life, there it refines them by subjecting them to spiritual laws, and thus enriched the spirit returns to new life and to further tasks. As it happens with the individual life, it happens with that of the nations, all for the ultimate purpose of inspiring matter more and more. Man's work is nothing more than a work on matter; it strives to bring about the spiritualization of one's own body and the entire environment, to produce one culture after another, one culture around oneself after another until all the material of the planet has dissolved and the overall result gained by the human spirit, the world spirit, freed from the earth's material, creates new planets for itself and ascends to new, higher realms of activity.

As you know, the saying that serves as the leitmotif of this lecture can be found in Goethe's “Faust”. This, his greatest work, has given rise to so many explanations that a whole library could be filled with them. The sentence spoken by Mephistopheles is sometimes explained in very peculiar ways. It is not possible to discuss them all here, but I would like to refer you to Professor Minor, who wrote a three-volume commentary on Faust. He gives the following explanation: Mephistopheles says mockingly, “Blood is a very special juice,” because he does not like blood and therefore demands a signature that is written in blood.

Faust enters into a pact with the emissary of hell; Goethe took this motif, like the material of the Faust saga in general, from German legends. The fact that Faust, the representative of humanity striving for the highest, should sign over his soul with blood is already known in the oldest Faust books – as early as the sixteenth century. He has to cut his hand, dip the pen into the blood, write his name, and then the words are said to have appeared in the coagulated blood: “Man, escape” — and yet blood should be something that Mephisto could not stand? On the contrary, it must be something very precious to him; that is Goethe's opinion of this passage in his great poem. From the standpoint of spiritual research, we can approach the significance of blood for life by considering the question: What actually is this blood? — This question is not to be treated scientifically; from the standpoint of spiritual science, we can look more deeply into the nature of man. We see the undercurrent of this saying for the entire historical development of man, so that we can at least answer the question in a certain direction. In doing so, we want to start from a saying that comes from an ancient teacher of the Egyptian secret schools, Hermes Trismegistus:

Everything below is like everything above!

“Above” refers to the spiritual world, “below” to the physical world; for the mystic, everything spiritual is “above” in the sense of Hermetic theosophy.

When we look at a person, we first see their physical appearance, their body; but we not only suspect, we know that a spiritual essence dwells within this body. We see the spiritual being revealed through the physical; the physical shows what moves the person at the bottom of their soul. We see their joy in their smile, their suffering in their tears. The entire physical aspect is a testimony of the spiritual. The spirit has built up the body: a lovely appearance as the image of a lovely soul; a brutal physical appearance, built up by a brutal spirit. We call the soul-spiritual the “upper”, the physical is the “lower”. Plato spoke of the “upper” as the archetype of things. Everything that surrounds us is the image of a spiritual reality. The world of archetypes is the “upper world”. Just as the shadow on the wall is the image of the object, so the lower world is the faithful reflection of the upper. Those who look at the world with spiritual eyes see not only the material; they see not only the eye and the ear, the body and its limbs, in the human form; they also perceive a soul behind it.

The sum of all physical phenomena in nature: forests, fields, plants, minerals, yes, the heavenly and planetary bodies are the expression of a spiritual world. Every time we see something in the lower, we can conclude that there is something corresponding in the upper. Man gets to know the lower in his everyday experience; the scientist examines it with instruments. The spiritual researcher shows us the archetypes – the upper aspect. We will understand things when we recognize the upper aspect for each lower aspect.

In this way, we will also come to know the human being when, after having observed the blood with the nervous system and the heart, we then search for what prevails in them, what corresponds to them in the upper aspect, when we ask: What is the spirit of the blood?

In the same way, we want to understand the human being by considering what the spiritual archetype of blood is. To do this, we have to follow the path of human development together.

What is the essence of the human being according to spiritual science? We get to know the upper part of the human being through the connecting link, starting from the body. For materialism, this is everything. Bones, digestive and respiratory organs, nerves, reproductive and circulatory systems make up the physical body. What we know about the human being consists entirely of the same substances that make up the things found in nature. The same matter is everywhere in the world, even in minerals.

Theosophy or spiritual science distinguishes, in addition to the body that we have in common with all inanimate nature, an etheric or life body, but understands it to mean something different from the physicist's understanding of ether. While science previously assumed only the physical, it too has recently come to recognize a kind of life principle. But while science reaches its knowledge only through logic and reasoning, the theosophist has gained his knowledge by developing abilities within himself that lie dormant in everyone. We call such a developed person an “awakened one,” that is, the spiritual world opens up to him.

The more organs a person has, the more worlds can be opened up to him. Through self-development, through self-perfection, he can attain higher development. Then he can see the etheric body, which underlies the physical body as a very fine body. Everything that lives in a person comes from the etheric body. Plants have this in common with us; just as color belongs to the flower, so the etheric body belongs to the physical body for those who can see it. Many say that it is immodest to claim such a thing and think that no one can know this. But it is much more immodest to say this, because those who have not seen the matter cannot decide, but those who see can. No one can say more than: I do not know —, just as little as a blind man can claim that there are no colors because he does not see them.

The third link of the human being arises when one seeks the vehicle for everything that is named: desire, lust, passion, pain. Not only blood and nervous systems are in man, but just as real are those phenomena. We call its carrier the “astral body”. We have it in common with the whole animal world. But what makes man the crown of all creation, what makes him rise above the animal world; what he has for himself alone, is the fourth limb, the ego body. This is what distinguishes him from all beings except himself; out of this he develops further and further upwards. We recognize this when we compare an uncultivated person with a cultured person. — example of Darwin and the man-eater. — The I, which is already in him, has not yet worked on the astral body.

We therefore usually distinguish two parts of the astral body: the one part that the human being receives, and the other that he has worked into it. The astral body transformed by the I is the spiritual self or manas.

We can also work on our etheric body; many principles and moral ideas, which are still rooted in the astral body, also extend as forces into the etheric realm, for example, art. What a person absorbs from a work of art has an effect on the etheric body; the same applies to what is achieved through religion. We also distinguish two parts in it: the received and the worked-in spirit of life. We call this Budhi. A chela acquires the ability to work more and more into it; spiritual training is a working out of the etheric body. Finally, such a working out of the physical body can also take place through special spiritual abilities. The theosophist calls the spiritualized part through which man stands in relation to the whole cosmos “Atman” or the real spirit of man. Thus we distinguish seven aspects in the human being. These aspects of the human being are not to be understood as separate parts, but rather as seven levels, degrees of his being, like the tones of a scale or the colors of the rainbow. The last three levels: Manas, Budhi, Atma, make up the archetype of the human being - the upper part.

Man has not had these seven members from the beginning; only gradually have they been developed with the physical body; in the original state, only the predispositions for this physical body are found. Man is an image of the whole cosmos. Cuvier, the important naturalist, says: For the one who studies animal anatomy, the smallest member is an image of the whole body. From the peculiar shape of a bone, he can deduce the shape of the whole body. In each individual there is an image of the whole universe. If a being who is able to see through this were to come to our world from another world and see only a rock crystal, it could deduce from it what the whole world should be like. Each one that can internalize the external becomes a mirror of the whole universe. The human physical body cannot be regarded as a mirror of the universe in itself; it is only through the etheric body that it is internalized, and internalization continues through the etheric body. In the animal, external life is reflected in inner consciousness. In the plant, we do not yet have consciousness. Consciousness does not depend on external stimuli, but is present where external stimuli are reflected internally: in the animal.

In the human being, this consciousness expresses itself in the first formation of the nervous system. This nervous system is the so-called sympathetic or digestive system, solar plexus, arising on the sides of the spinal cord – it is an organ of consciousness. To observe the human being in this stage as a being with only this system of consciousness requires a training such as the Hindu receives in the yoga training. When the brain and spinal cord systems are not active in him, the human being sees an unknown world shining within him, a consciousness that was once his own: dull and dim, a kind of omniscience. The whole universe is reflected in this consciousness; it depends on the nature of the universe. It can reflect everything that shines into it from the universe, but it cannot give anything itself.

When the soul begins to integrate the ego into the tripartite body, it integrates itself into the spinal cord. Only with this does the possibility arise for an inner life to develop; only with this is the human being able to react to attacks... [gap]

In no physical body could self-awareness take root without the blood system. The blood system, in which inner warmth can develop, the red, warm human blood must be there for the ego to reveal itself. The blood is the carrier of self-awareness in a being. Therefore, if you have found the way to his blood, you have also found the way to his self; what affects the blood affects the self. It is not the ego that is or creates the blood; the astral body does that. Only when the astral body has created the blood is the ego able to dwell in it. One can receive knowledge from a person, learn many things, and in the same way one can teach another and make communications to him; but one has access to the particular individuality of a person only when his blood is affected, set in faster or slower motion. The particular juice provides access to the ego. Control over the blood makes one the master of the person.

How does one influence the blood? I would like to refer to a conversation between two well-known men: Anzengruber, the playwright, and Rosegger, the writer who portrayed Austrian rural life. Anzengruber spent his whole life in the city – and yet, with what genius he brought the figures of the rural world to the stage! Rosegger said to him: “Perhaps it would be better for you to study the farmers.” To which Anzengruber replied: “I wouldn't be able to do that; I can't do it by observation, it's in my blood. My ancestors were farmers, and when I am left to myself, it takes care of itself.”

There is a deep truth in this, and to explore it, we need to consider the nature of consanguinity. We speak of consanguinity, but in reality not a single drop of the father's blood passes into that of the son. Quite different organs are related, like the blood system. This forms itself at the latest in the embryo. If a similar organism descends from another, something similar is expressed in the blood. It is not the blood that is related, but that which is expressed in the blood, which moves it, warms or cools it. The relationship lies in the soul, which underlies the physical.

Among all peoples we find in ancient times that marriages were contracted within the near-kith and kin; small tribal unions married within the kin. It was a crime to marry outside the tribe, outside the blood relationship. All mankind has worked its way out of this.

From the near-marriage later developed the far-marriage. Tacitus, for example, in his “Germania”, gives a glimpse of how distant marriage developed from close marriage. At the moment this happens, a very special phenomenon appears: somnambulistic clairvoyance. For example, in 1000 and 900 BC, the ancient Greeks had the ancient clairvoyance; all legends originated from this state. Clairvoyance ceases when long-distance marriage occurs. Where form mixes with foreign form, something is expressed in the blood that does not belong to the common stock. This process was a change to the intellectual view in all peoples. Formerly, the process was similar for an old clairvoyant as it is today for a medium. To recall this state in our time would be an anachronism, as it was the natural state in the past; every child did not absorb from the outside, but felt within himself what was related to his tribe. When foreign blood was added, the person grew out of his tribe. Whereas in the past what was in the generations was expressed in the blood, later it was expressed in what the external senses conveyed. As a last remnant, although not quite like the old seer, Anzengruber feels not only what he himself feels as a human being, as an individual person, but also what his father has experienced. Hence the veneration of the ancestors, because and where one still felt their direct influence.

Thus there used to be an inner knowledge that the old sages exude from within, that emanates from systems that live below the blood, a knowledge of the whole universe; the knowledge that flows in from within instead of what later in human life gained control over one's blood from the outside. Now the influx from the outside has control over one's blood.

Genesis speaks of people living to be 800 and 900 years old. This can also be explained from what has been said before: in ancient times, not just a person was named with a name, but everything that the ego can encompass; a person who remembered not only what he, but also what his father and grandfather experienced, everything that could be summarized as a common memory, was given a common name. As age diminishes, so does memory, namely everything that is imprinted in the blood of a generation, we have the transition from close marriage to long-distance marriage.

Thus it is already evident in the Bible that whoever has a person's blood has the person himself. What has an effect in people inscribes itself in the blood, insofar as it inscribes itself, so much has the person. Through such combinations of spiritual research as here, through clairvoyance, the deepest cultural possibilities can be considered. It would be impossible for culture to graft a completely alien culture onto an original one. Many believe that this is precisely how it should be expressed in the blood; but this is a mistake.

If, for example, we were to impose our modern culture on the Hindus, we would only wipe out their original culture. If we want to bring the culture of the higher peoples into the lower one, we must know the preconditions; with the ever-increasing racial mixing, the underlying conditions should be considered. It is the purpose of Theosophy to intervene here and to bring about the observance of a correct system. He who would lead men to higher culture must know how to approach the blood of men from without. He cannot bring culture to man unless his blood reacts. Thus the wisdom of the saying is expressed for all culture:

Blood is a very special fluid.

What did Mephistopheles have to do to get to the very depths of Faust? He had to get his blood. He wants to take possession of his blood because he knows what the old legends always emphasize:

If you have his blood, you have his self!

Spiritual research finds that the penetration of this saying shines through into the cultural stages of humanity.

It is repeatedly emphasized that Theosophy is not something new, not something that has only come to mankind in our time. But it is particularly interesting that even personalities close to us face it in such a way that we may count them among the spirits we can call “Theosophists”. Alongside Herder, Jean Paul, Novalis and Lessing, Goethe appears as one of the most outstanding Theosophists. Some people, however, might object to this, because there is not much evidence of theosophy in Goethe's works that we know of. In Goethe's time, it was not yet possible to spread esoteric truths throughout the world. The “higher truths” were only disseminated in a limited society, for example, the Rosicrucians. No one who was not prepared was admitted into this society. But those who belonged to it spoke of it in all kinds of allusions. Thus Goethe at the most diverse places of his writings. Only those who are equipped with theosophical wisdom can read Goethe correctly. For example, “Faust” cannot be understood without that.

The “Fairy Tale” is Goethe's apocalypse, his revelation, in whose symbolic representation the deepest secrets are contained. That Goethe reveals his theosophical worldview in the “Fairy Tale” can only be understood if one knows the reason for it. Schiller had invited Goethe to collaborate on the “Horen”. Schiller himself had contributed the essay “On the Aesthetic Education of Man” to this journal. It poses the question: How does the person who lives in the everyday arrive at the highest ideals, at a mediation between the supersensible and the sensible? Schiller saw in beauty a descent of the highest wisdom into the sensible. He was able to express in a wonderfully vivid way what seemed to him to be a bridge leading from the sensual to the supersensual. Goethe now says that he cannot express himself in philosophical terms about the highest questions of existence, but he wants to do so in a great picture. At that time he contributed the “Fairytale” to the Horen, in which he attempted to solve these questions in his own way.

Goethe also expressed himself in a thoroughly theosophical sense elsewhere. He had already incorporated his views into “Faust” in his early youth. Between his studies in Leipzig and his stay in Strasbourg, Goethe received an initiation from a personality who was deeply initiated into the secrets of the Rosicrucians. From that time on, he speaks in a mystical, theosophical language. In the first part of “Faust” there is a strange phrase that is put in quotation marks: “the sage speaks”. Goethe was already attached to the theosophical idea that there are beings among us today who are already further along than the rest of humanity, that they are the leaders of people from supersensible spheres, although they are also embodied in the body. They have attained a knowledge that goes far beyond what can be understood with the senses. The passage in question reads:

Only now do I realize what the wise man says:
'The spiritual world is not closed,
Your mind is closed, your heart is dead!
Rise up, disciple, unwearied,
Bathe the earthly breast in the morning light!

When you get to know Jacob Böhme, you get to know one of the sources from which Goethe drew his theosophical wisdom. [J. Boehme's “Aurora” is the dawn, the astral world.] We can only understand some of Goethe's work if we grasp it in this sense. In the poem “The Divine”, Goethe speaks of the law that we call karma, and also of those exalted beings:

According to eternal, ironclad
great laws
we must all
complete
our existence

Hail to the unknown,
higher beings
we sense!

If anyone now wants real proof of Goethe's theosophical way of thinking, let them read the poem under “God and the World”, called “Howard's Memorial”. The first line reads:

When Gottheit Camarupa high and lofty

— Kama Rupa is the principle of man, the astral body, as we know it from theosophical teachings. When Goethe spoke intimately to those with whom he was united in the lodge, he spoke of ideal divine beings who shine forth as examples for mankind. This was intended for his close circle, for example, what he says in the poem “Symbolum”:

From the other side
the voices of the spirits are calling you,
the voices of the masters
Do not neglect to practise
the forces of good.

He speaks openly of the masters when he speaks intimately to his fellow masons.

But it is the fairy tale of the green snake and the beautiful lily that most profoundly introduces us to his view. In it, we find a depiction of the three realms in which human beings live: the physical, the soul or astral world, and the spiritual world. The symbol for the astral or soul world is water. For Goethe, water always represents the soul. This is the case in his poem about the soul and fate:

Soul of man,
How like thou art to water!
Fate of man,
How like thou art to wind!

He also knew the mental realm that man experiences between two states of embodiment, between death and birth, the Devachan, the realm of the gods. Man strives unceasingly for this realm. He fights here on earth to reach this realm.

The alchemists regarded the chemical processes as a symbol for the striving for this spiritual realm. They call this realm: the realm of the lily. Man is called the lion who fights for this realm, and the lily is the bride of the lion. Goethe also hinted at this in “Faust”:

My father was a dark
man of honor who, in his own way, reflected on nature and its sacred circles
with sincerity, but in a whimsical way;
who, in the company of adepts,
locked himself in the black kitchen
and, according to endless recipes,
he poured together the adverse. Then a red lion, a bold suitor, was married to the lily in the lukewarm bath.

Here Goethe speaks of the marriage of man with the spirit (in the lukewarm bath is in the soul bath. The soul is the water, the red lion is the human being). In the “Fairytale”, Goethe also depicted the three realms: the sensual realm as the one bank; the soul realm as the river; the Devachan — spiritual realm — as the opposite bank, on which the garden of the beautiful lily is located, which symbolically represents the Devachan for the alchemists. Man's entire relationship to the three realms is brought into a symbolically beautiful presentation. We have come over from the spiritual realm and strive back to it. Goethe has a ferryman bring the will-o'-the-wisps from the spiritual realm to the sensual realm. The ferryman can bring everyone across, but not bring them back. We came over without our will, but we cannot go back the same way. We have to work our way back into the spiritual realm.

The will-o'-the-wisps live on gold. They absorb this gold. It penetrates their bodies. But they immediately throw it off in all directions. They want to throw the gold at the ferryman as a reward. But he says that the river cannot tolerate the gold; it would foam up wildly. Gold always represents wisdom. The will-o'-the-wisps are people who seek wisdom but do not unite with its essence, instead regurgitating it undigested. The river represents the soul's life, the sum of human instincts, drives, passions. If the gold of wisdom is carelessly thrown into the river of passions, the soul is disturbed, stirred up.

Goethe always pointed out that man must first undergo catharsis, purification, in order to become ripe for the reception of wisdom. For if wisdom is brought into unpurified passion, the passion becomes fanatical, and people then remain trapped in their lower ego. The ascent of Kama to Manas is dangerous if it is not connected with a sacrifice of the lower self. Regarding this, Goethe says in the “West-Eastern Divan”:

And so long as you do not have this,
this: Die and Become!
If you are only a dull guest
on the dark earth.

The human being must be willing to sacrifice himself.

The will-o'-the-wisps are still caught in the Ahamkara, in the lower self. Wisdom cannot tolerate this. The soul life must slowly be purified and slowly ascend. In the meadow, the will-o'-the-wisps throw gold around. There they meet the snake. It consumes the pieces of gold. It makes them one with itself. It has the power not to make its ego proud and selfish, not to strive upwards in a vertical, arrogant way, but to move in a horizontal line in the crevices of the rocks and gradually to attain perfection. A temple is depicted, which is located in the crevices of the earth. The snake has already been roaming back and forth through it, groping and sensing that mysterious beings dwell there.

But now the old man comes with the lamp. The snake has become luminous because of the gold. The temple is illuminated by its radiance. The old man's lamp has the property that it only shines where there is already light. There it shines with a very special light. So on the one hand there is the snake that has become luminous because of the gold, and on the other hand there is the man with the lamp, which also shines. The light on both sides makes everything visible in the temple. In the corners are four kings, a golden, a silver, a bronze and a mixed king. The snake could only find these by touching them before, but now they have become visible to it through their own glow. They are the three higher principles of man and the four lower ones. The iron king is Atma, the divine Self; the silver king is Budhi, the love through which man can communicate with all men; and the golden king is Manas, the wisdom that radiates out into the world and that can absorb this radiant wisdom.

When man has acquired wisdom unselfishly, he can see things in their true essence without the veil of Maya. The snake now clearly sees the three higher principles of man. The golden king is Manas, just as the gold everywhere signifies Manas. The four lower principles are represented, symbolized, by the mixed king. In the lower principles, too, Atma, Budhi and Manas have moved into the sphere of appearance, but disharmoniously. Only when it is purified does something develop that cannot exist in disharmony. The temple is the place of initiation, the secret school that only those who bring the light themselves, who are as selfless as the snake, can enter. The temple is to be revealed one day, rising above the river. It is the realm of the future, towards which we are all striving. The secret places of learning shall be led up. Everything that man is shall strive upwards, dissolve in harmony, strive towards the higher principles. What was once taught in the mysteries shall become an obvious secret. The wanderers shall go over and across the river, from the sensual to the supersensible world and back again. All people will be united in harmony.

The old man with the lamp represents where man can already gain knowledge today without having reached the summit of wisdom, namely through the powers of piety, of the mind, the powers of faith. Faith needs light from outside if it is to truly lead to the higher mysteries. The serpent and the old man with the lamp have the powers of the spirit, which already guide [the soul] today and lead into the future. He who already feels these powers today knows this from certain secrets. The old man therefore says that he knows three secrets. But the fourth secret is spoken of in the strangest way. The serpent hisses something in his ear. Then the old man calls out:

The time has come!

The time has come when a great multitude of people will have grasped which is the way. The serpent has said that it is ready to sacrifice itself. It has reached the point where it has recognized that the human being must first die in order to become:

And so long as you do not have this,
this: Die and become!
If you are only a dull guest
on the dark earth.

To be in the full sense of the word, man can only through love, devotion, sacrifice. The snake is ready for that. This will be revealed when man is ready for this sacrifice. Then the temple will stand by the river. The will-o'-the wisp have not been able to pay off their debt; they had to promise the ferryman to pay it later. The river only takes the fruits of the earth: three cabbages, three onions, three artichokes. The will-o'-the wisp come to the old man's wife and behave very strangely there. They have licked up the gold from the walls. They want to stuff themselves full of wisdom and give it back. The pug dog eats some of the gold and dies, as all living things must perish from it. It cannot absorb the wisdom as the snake absorbs and transforms it, so it has a killing effect. The old woman has to promise the will-o'-the-wisps to pay off her debt to the ferryman.

When the old man comes home with the lamp, he sees what has happened. He tells the old woman to keep her promise, but also to take the dead pug to the beautiful lily because she brings everything dead back to life. The old woman goes to the ferryman with the basket. There she encounters two strange things. She finds the great giant on the way, who has the peculiarity of letting his shadow cross the river in the evening, so that the traveler can then cross the river on his shadow. In addition, the path over is conveyed when the snake arches over at midday. The giant can mediate the transition, but so can the snake when the sun is at its highest, when man elevates his ego to the divine through the shining sun of knowledge. In the solemn moments of life, in the moments of complete selflessness, man unites with the deity.

The giant is the rough physical development that man must go through. He also comes into the realm of the beyond through this; but only in the twilight, when his consciousness is extinguished. But this is a dangerous path, taken by those who develop psychic powers within themselves, who put themselves into a trance state. This transition happens in the twilight of the trance state. Schiller also once wrote about the shadow of the giant. These are the dark forces that lead man over.

When the old woman passes the giant, the giant steals a cabbage head, an onion and an artichoke, so that the old woman only has part of them, which she wants to use to pay off the debt of the will-o'-the-wisps. The number three is therefore no longer complete. What we need and have to weave into our soul life is taken away from us by the twilight forces. There is something dangerous in giving oneself to these. The lower forces must be purified by the soul. Only then can the body ascend when the soul fully absorbs it. Everything that surrounds an inner core in the form of shells is a symbol for the human being's shells. Indian allegory refers to these shells as the leaves of the lotus flower. The human physical nature must be purified in the soul. We have to pay off, surrender the lower principles to the soul life. We have expressed the paying off of the debt in the fact that the river has to be paid off. That is the whole process of karma.

Since the river is not satisfied with the payment of the old woman, she has to dip her hand into the river. After that, she can only feel the hand, but no longer see it. That which is external and sensual to us humans, what is visible about a person, is the body; it must be purified by the soul life. This symbolizes that if a person cannot atone for it in the nature of the plant, he must commit a guilt. Then the actual physical nature of the person becomes invisible. Because the old woman cannot atone for her guilt, she becomes invisible. The I can only be seen in the splendor of the day when it is purified by the soul life. The old woman says: Oh, my hand, which is the most beautiful thing about me. It is precisely that which distinguishes man from the animal, that which shines through him as spirit, becomes invisible if he has not purified it through karma.

The beautiful youth had aspired to the realm of the lily – spirituality – and the beautiful lily had paralyzed him. By this, Goethe means the ancient truth that man must first be purified, must first have undergone catharsis, so that he no longer reaches wisdom through guilt, so that he can absorb the splendor of higher spirituality within himself. The youth had not yet been prepared by the purification. All living things that are not yet ripe are killed by the lily. All dead things that have gone through the “Stirb und Werde” are revived by the lily. Goethe now says that one is ripe for freedom who has first freed himself within. Jakob Böhme also says that man must develop out of the lower principles.

He who does not die before he dies
Will perish if he dies.

Man must first mature, must first be purified before he can enter the realm of the spirit, the lily. In the ancient mysteries, man had to pass through stages of purification before he could become a mystic. The youth must first pass through these stages. They lead him to the lily.

The snake signifies development. We see those who are seeking the new path, all those who are striving towards spirituality, gathered around the lily. But first the temple must rise above the river. All move towards the river, the will-o'-the-wisps in front; they unlock the gate. Selfish wisdom is the bridge to selfless wisdom. Through the self, wisdom leads to selflessness. The snake has sacrificed itself. Now one understands what love is, a sacrifice of the lower self for the good of humanity, full brotherhood.

The entire assembly moves towards the temple. The temple rises above the river. The youth is resurrected. He is endowed with Atma, Budhi and Manas. Atma, in the form of the brazen king, steps before the youth and hands him the sword. It is the highest will, not mixed with the others. Atma should work in man so that the sword is on the left and the right is free. Before that, man works in particularity, the war of all against all. But now, when man is purified, peace will take the place of struggle, the sword on the left for protection, the right free to do good.

The second king represents what is known to us as the second principle, as the Budhi – piety, mind, through which man turns to the Highest in faith. Silver is the symbol of piety. The second king says:

Feed the sheep,

because we are dealing here with the power of the mind. The appearance here is the appearance of beauty. Goethe associated a religious reverence with art. He saw in art the revelation of the divine, the realm of beautiful appearance is the realm of piety. The brazen king signifies – without the lower principles – power, the silver king peace, the golden king wisdom. He says:

Recognize the Supreme.

The youth is the four-principled man who develops into the higher principles. The four principles are paralyzed by the spirit before they have undergone the purifying development. Then the three higher principles work in harmony in man. Then he will be strong and powerful; then he may marry the lily. This is the marriage between the soul and the spirit of man. The soul has always been represented as something feminine; the mystery of the eternal, the immortal, is presented here.

The eternal feminine draws us up.

Goethe used the same image here in the “Fairytale”, when the young man marries the beautiful lily.

Now all that is alive passes over the vaulting bridge from the sacrificed human self. Wayfarers pass over and across. All the kingdoms are now connected in beautiful harmony. The old woman is rejuvenated, as is the old man with the lamp; the old has passed away and everything has become new. The ferryman's small hut is now included in the temple in a silver-plated state as a kind of altar. What unconsciously took man across before now takes him across in the conscious state. The composite king has collapsed. The jack-o'-lanterns licked out the gold, for they are still directed towards the low. The giant now indicates the time. What used to be the sensual principle, what led across in the twilight hour, what is sensual, what belongs to the state of nature, now indicates the evenly passing time. As long as man has not developed the three higher principles, the past and the future are in conflict. The giant can then only work in an inharmonious way. Now time has become something harmonious in this ideal state.

The thought fastens that which fluctuates in a lasting way, which is expressed in the following words:

And that which floats in fluctuating appearance
is fastened with lasting thoughts.

What is seen in the Pythagorean school as the rhythm of the universe, the music of the spheres, the sounding of the planets that move rhythmically around the sun, arises through the realization of the divine thought. For the mystic, a planet was a being of a higher order. This is why Goethe also says:

The sun resounds in the ancient way
In the singing of the spheres,
And completes its prescribed journey
With a thunderclap.

That man has the ability within himself to develop to the highest divine, he says in the words:

If the eye were not like the sun,
It could never behold the sun;
If the power of God were not in us,
How could we, being divine, be enraptured?

I. Report in the “Mühlheimer Zeitung” of March 20, 1905

On Saturday evening, Dr. Rudolf Steiner, Berlin, General Secretary of the German Section of the Theosophical Society, spoke on 'Goethe's Faust in the Light of the Theosophical World View'. The speaker explained that Goethe cannot be grasped in the full depth of his life's work if Faust is seen only as the poetic expression of the outer life around us and of the soul life in its outer phenomena. Faust offers infinitely more; it aims to provide a picture of the development of man and his place in the world and the universe. Goethe had insight into the teachings of mysticism, which coincide with those of theosophy; in the sense of mysticism, he had given in his Faust a picture of the human being, his development and ascent. He had reproduced the ancient teachings as only a poet could reproduce them, namely in the representation of a poet, and in doing so, he had made use of mystical terminology. Goethe was familiar with the ancient division of the universe into a physical, a mental and a spiritual world, and it was clear to him that man is also composed of three parts: a physical, a mental and a spiritual one. He therefore understood the human being as a microcosm in which the image of the universe, the macrocosm, was reflected. The ancient wisdom teachings of the Indians, Egyptians, Persians and Greeks understood the development of the human being in the same way as Goethe. He paid homage to the view that the human soul was there from the very beginning, that it had developed through all the realms of nature and become the creator of these realms, that on this journey of development through the most diverse states, it had created man in his present form and was now striving to spiritualize him further. To make clear this view of the work of Goethe, the speaker pointed to the many expressions of mystical terminology scattered throughout Faust, such as the passage in the prologue in heaven, which cannot be understood in any other way than in a mystical sense:

The sun resounds according to ancient custom
In the song-contests of the spheres of the brothers,
And its ordained journey
It completes with a thunderclap.

These processes, which can only be perceived in the world of the spirit, where the ear of the spirit listens and the eye of the seer can no longer follow, not to mention the physical eye – they are referred to in mysticism as sounding or resounding. In the first act of the second part, Ariel calls the organ that is to be understood as the organ of perception in these worlds the “ear of the spirit”. Ariel speaks:

Hark! Hark! The hoar-hounds howl!
The new-born day is breaking
For the ears of spirits.
The gates of rocks are creaking and cracking;
The wheels of Phoebus are rolling and clattering;
What a tumult the light brings!
It trumpets, it trombone;
Eye blinks and ear astonishes,
Unheard of does not listen.

The first part of the tragedy, as Dr. Steiner explained, presents man to us in the struggle with the lower physical passions. In the second part, we are shown the development of his soul and his ascent into the purely spiritual. Mephisto is the principle of desire and longing until the soul incites to higher life. The realm of the mothers is understood to mean the spiritual realm, to which Faust descends to attain the spiritual archetypes of things (Helena as a symbol of beauty). In Homunculus, the soul's journey of development is shown through the realms of nature; in Euphorion, the moment of higher enlightenment, which comes to us in happy hours and suddenly disappears again, etc. The captivating explanations, of which we have only been able to reproduce a few here, were met with much applause.

II. Report in the “Kölnische Zeitung” of March 22, 1905

On Saturday evening in the Isabellensaal of the Gürzenich, Dr. Rudolf Steiner of Berlin gave a lecture on “Goethe's Faust, a Picture of His World View from a Theosophical Point of View”. The speaker often uses a mystically opaque mode of expression; in the course of his hour-long speech, he wove into his inwardly spiritualized presentation, which developed in broad strokes into a journey through Goethe's life's work, viewed from a theosophical perspective, reflections on the history and essence of Theosophy. Even though the Theosophical Society as such has existed only for 30 years, the spirit of the world view had already been active first in esoteric Buddhism and later in the most important minds of the Orient and the Occident at all times. From individual basic ideas of the theosophical doctrine, Redrier spread, as in earlier lectures, over the three worlds of theosophy, life, soul and spirit. Regarding the subject itself, he said that Goethe's poem of life could only be understood if one illuminated it with what the theosophical world view meant, which he had expressed in a special way in the secrets and fairy tales of the green snake and the beautiful lily. With advancing age, he had become more and more absorbed in this world and realized that when we know the world, we also know the fragmented details of our being; there is no end to knowledge, only degrees. That is why Goethe had to end Faust as a mystic, after saying in his youth, “A good man in his dark urges is well aware of the right path.” After the speaker had considered the prologue from the mystic's point of view, he described Faust in the first part as tired of the sensual world; all the sciences of the mind did not satisfy him, in his innermost being there was a yearning for a spiritual world in the sense of mysticism. That is why Goethe lets Faust reach the earth spirit in the flame and recognize at the end of the first part that true self-knowledge is knowledge of the world. In the second part, he lets Faust get to know the three worlds of the theosophist. The imperial court embodies the great sensual world – Mephisto, “the impulse of development,” repeatedly draws him back into it – the mothers are the soul principle that is fertilized so that the higher human being may be born in the human being. The mystic also said to the materialist: “In your nothingness, I hope to find the All.” The homunculus, which can also only be understood mystically, is the representative of mystical clairvoyance, the birth and downfall of Euphorion are the mystical moments of celebration that quickly fade away. Finally, it was explained how Faust becomes completely independent of the sensual world, how he goes blind, how darkness is around him, but there is bright light within him. The “Chorus mysticus” is a Goethean creed. The lecture was very well received and was followed by a stimulating discussion.

Dear attendees, The remarks I am to make to you this evening can only claim validity today, in the age of the spirit of science, if they are preceded by a certain examination of anthroposophy, as it is meant here, and of this spirit of science itself. It must be shown that today it is impossible to speak of knowledge of the spirit without justifying the methods of the corresponding spiritual research in the face of this spirit of science.

That this justification is possible, that the anthroposophy I am referring to here is not in any opposition to this modern spirit of science at all, but that it is only a kind of continuation of it, I have taken the liberty of explaining in that lecture which I gave here a few months ago in the same place. So if I wanted to give this justification again today, it would mean a repetition for a very large audience. I will therefore assume that which is present as such a support. I will therefore refer, but only in this regard, to the lecture from earlier, but of course in such a way that today's lecture should also be understandable in itself.

Now, when a person focuses his attention on what he calls spiritual life, namely on his relationship to the spiritual world, certain difficulties arise in the soul. But one cannot say that these difficulties arise in relation to the existence of a spiritual life in man himself. For man is well aware that he always has such a spiritual life in his waking state. He is in relation to the outer world through his spiritual life, as a cognizant and active human being. He finds his human worth and dignity included in this spiritual life, which is, after all, his experience, his adventure. And even the most ardent materialist will perhaps say: This spiritual life that appears to you arises only from material processes, from material occurrences, but he will not be able to deny the spiritual life as such. And one may say: The difficulties that arise as riddle questions in the human soul with regard to the spiritual world are based precisely on the fact that man is aware of his spirit, that he must seek his value and dignity in this spirit, and must therefore ask about the nature of this spirit: Is it something temporary, something that disappears? Is it something that is grounded only in material life? Is it something that is connected to some external spiritual world and represents something permanent in the face of a transitory existence? Precisely because man has a spiritual life, because he feels himself to be a spiritual being, he must ask about the nature of this spirituality.

Now there is much that emerges from the depths of the soul for some people who are particularly concerned with these things, fully consciously, but for most people as a general feeling, more or less unconsciously, and ultimately comes together in the enigmatic question: What is the essence of the spirit, and what is the relationship of man to a possible spiritual world? I could cite many things to you that show this question arises from the depths of the soul.

Two examples that are perhaps even neglected in other areas of human life, that rarely come to the full consciousness of the human being, but that have all the more effect in the spheres of feeling of the soul life, that are transmitted to the feeling, that cause a certain uncertainty about the nature of spiritual life. As I said, they are perhaps consciously placed before the soul by very few people, but they determine the happiness and suffering of the innermost soul being. They determine our everyday frame of mind, whether we go through life courageously or dejectedly, whether we are fit for life or unfit for our own life or the lives of our fellow human beings. All this depends on how these feelings creep into our soul life and lead to the enigmatic questions characterized.

First of all, there is something that we experience, as I said, more or less unconsciously, every day of our existence between birth and death, when we pass from the waking state to the state of sleep. Every time we feel how that which stirs, what lives and moves from waking to falling asleep as our experience, our inner spirituality, how it fades down into an indeterminate state, how we have to switch off our consciousness, how we have completely faded down our spiritual life, so to speak, in the time from falling asleep to waking up. And when we then bring this unconsciously experienced life in the human soul to consciousness, we have to say: in it, the human being feels the powerlessness of his spiritual life, the powerlessness of his inner activity, of his inner activity, in which he seeks his own human value and human existence. It fades away every day when he falls asleep. Then most people ask, perhaps only in their hearts, but they do ask: Is it the case that this life of the soul fades and leaves people powerless? Is it so that it has dimmed down when the human being passes through the gate of death, so that the human being can no longer catch up with it, as he does every morning? That is one example of how the characterized riddle is formed.

The other example is, one could say, the opposite pole. When we wake up, we may first pass through the indeterminate, chaotic, illusory dream life, which we know to be illusory in the face of external reality when we are of sound mind. Perhaps we pass through this semi-spiritual being until we fully awaken. But then the spiritual takes possession of the body, of the physical body of the human being. We initially dive into the world of our sense organs. What our eyes transmit to us from the world of colors, what our ears transmit to us from the world of sounds, what our sense organs transmit to us, we experience as physical experiences of the effect of the outside world on us. We experience it with our soul life. We experience how we take possession of our limbs, how we become active with the help of our body. We feel immersed in our corporeality, our physicality, our spiritual being. It works, it weaves at this physicality.

But I have already indicated in the last lecture here the way in which we are unconscious of this submergence into physical corporeality. Let us just take the submergence into our elements of will. We have the thought. Let us take the simple action of raising our arm and moving our hand. First we have the thought, the idea; but how this idea descends into our physicality, what complicated process takes place down there before we raise our arm and move our hand, we know nothing about this in our ordinary consciousness. So we have to say: While we feel the powerlessness of the spiritual life when falling asleep, when waking up, that is, when we descend into physical corporeality, we feel how the spiritual flows down as if into an inner darkness, in which it is then enclosed. So that we can say: if we lose the spirit when it no longer works through the body, it then becomes unconscious; but it withdraws from us even more when it flows into our corporeality and works through our corporeality.

These are all examples of how man enters into an uncertain realm when he wants to educate himself about the nature of the spiritual. Now, because he is led into such an uncertain area, man places himself before the spiritual world to which he seeks a relationship precisely because of the better part of his human feeling and willing and thinking. He places himself before this spiritual world precisely the two most significant enemies of human soul life. One of these enemies is the one to whom many people fall prey today who, whether through their will or their circumstances, cannot join the conscientious, serious methods of scientific life that do not make the demands of this science their own. They often place before their soul, out of their own will, that which we then encompass with the word “superstition”.

This superstition is the one enemy of the human soul. Because man must constantly seek a relationship between himself and the spiritual world, he seeks to conjure up from within, through the will, that which he cannot attain from without through knowledge. But if it has no basis, if it lives as superstition in the human soul, in the way a person imagines his relationship to the spiritual world, then he must see how he comes up against all sorts of obstacles wherever he goes in life. Things have their own laws, the things and facts of life, of nature and of human existence. They take a certain course if you approach this life with superstitious ideas. These ideas do not prove true everywhere. You end up in a state of disorientation and insecurity, also in relation to knowledge. You often imagine in your soul that a spiritual being should work through external phenomena in a certain way. You see that it does not work. You become insecure and weak in yourself. Or else the person who surrenders to such impulses, which are not grounded in the objective external world, has no drive for his actions from them; they give him nothing for his will. Therefore, he not only becomes insecure but also incapable, unable to intervene in life. He cannot place himself in the midst of his fellow human beings, co-operating with them, as does the one who does not place illusory conceptions between his soul and life.

If this is the one enemy that stands before the soul of those who do not engage with scientific results, then the other enemy often enters into the soul life of those who are engaged in science. Anyone who is familiar with today's serious and conscientious scientific methods, by which our thinking seeks to follow the external world through experiment and observation to its laws, learns to recognize how this thinking is tamed – one might say – how all arbitrariness is taken from it, how it is adapted to what appears in the external world as law. But, one might say: in this way, thinking also becomes thin and abstract. It becomes estranged from the human being himself. It then becomes only appropriate to the [conditions of] the outer sense world. And one soon realizes: then no way out of the sensory world into the supersensible world opens up for this thinking, which is so wonderfully suited for comprehending the outer natural phenomena.

And then something very often befalls the scientific man of today, and that is doubt, doubt about the supersensible world, precisely because of the certainty he has acquired in his intellectual pursuit of the sensory world. Doubt also arises in the mind. But when it arises there, it arises with all the seriousness of the human soul, then it sinks into the mind, into the emotional life. And this is precisely what the devotee of anthroposophical science can recognize through this science: how the soul and the life of feeling are intimately connected with the healthy or diseased conditions of the bodily life as well; how what lives in an inharmonious, torn or even in a harmonic, happy soul is reflected in the healthy or diseased bodily life. And it may be said that, to put it bluntly, when doubt infects a person with a mental consumption, this mental consumption also affects the bodily conditions. He becomes weak in relation to his physical life. His nervous system becomes defective. He is unable to withstand the struggles of life. He, too, becomes incapable of helping himself and incapable of working with others.

Thus one can see, especially in superstition and doubt, how man, on the one hand, must always strive, out of deeply justified feelings, towards the spiritual world, to which he must feel he belongs. But how certain difficulties arise in the life of the soul, and how, precisely, strong enemies of this life of the soul place themselves between the spiritual world — which one can initially only assume hypothetically — and between the actual spiritual man. That is why even the serious scientific minds of the present day have turned to abnormal mental life, because they despair of the normal mental life that the grandeur of the sensory world transmits to them, but which, in their view, is quite incapable of transmitting to them what the spiritual world is. So they turn away from normal mental life and turn to all kinds of abnormal mental life. Today one finds enlightened minds in the field of natural science who look to mediumship, who look at some visions or hallucinatory states of abnormal life in order to gain clues in this way to answer the question: Does man have any relationship at all to a spiritual environment other than that which is revealed to his senses? One does indeed come across many things, but one should be quite clear about one thing: what one can learn, for example, through a medium, is after all learned by this medium himself through a tuned-down consciousness, through interrupted sensory contact with the outside world. One must, so to speak, turn to the medium for a morbid, abnormal-seeming physicality. It is the same when we turn to visionary experience.

Wherever you look, if you approach the research with sufficient impartiality, you can say that wherever something visionary occurs in the soul, there is a pathological organization. And how is it possible to exercise control over that which arises from the sick person, which is perhaps extraordinarily interesting in some respects, how is it possible to exercise control over that which arises from an imperfect consciousness that is not as highly developed as sense consciousness? How is it possible to gain a critical result about how much the experiences gained in this way are worth?

Anthroposophy therefore does not address any kind of morbid soul life. It firmly rejects having anything to do with mediumship, hallucinations, visions; it is based entirely on healthy soul and bodily life. She tries to find out what exercises the soul can do to further develop the powers of knowledge that are initially present in normal consciousness, so that we are able to see the spiritual world through supersensible organs in the same way that we perceive colors through our physical eyes. If you review what I have said in my various books “How to Know Higher Worlds”, “Occult Science” and other books about such exercises, you will find that these exercises fall into two parts: firstly, preparatory exercises that a person undertakes to strengthen themselves inwardly, physically and mentally. They are thoroughly suited to lead a person to a healthy physical and mental life. These preparatory exercises are today even appreciated by many opponents of anthroposophy, I dare not say in their value only, but in an outspoken way. But then one does not want to turn to the further exercises, which are supposed to develop dormant powers of cognition in the soul. But how man in this way, as a man who absolutely reckons with the whole enlightened spirit of the present, and yet seeks the way into the spiritual worlds by trying to recognize how man wins such a power of cognition by which he ascend into the spiritual worlds, can be understood more easily by taking up what was attempted in older times to gain knowledge of the supersensible world.

We see today that people who have a strong inner need to feel at least a sense of the spiritual world, who despair of direct knowledge, of a science of the spiritual world, they turn, whether they are learned or unlearned, to the time-honored conceptions that have developed in the course of human history and that are given as traditional creeds or world views. Many philosophies themselves are based on such time-honored conceptions, without the people who believe in them being able to guess it. But today one very often has the feeling that one must accept by faith what is given in such ideas, which have a venerable age, about the supersensible world; one cannot seek such knowledge about the supersensible world as one seeks in our exact science about the sensual world. And one succumbs to all kinds of illusions in the attempt to justify faith in its independent nature vis-à-vis knowledge, when one tries to prove that faith must be a different way of discovering the spiritual, in keeping with human nature, than that which presents itself as knowledge, as science.

Now, anyone who does not use the often rather superficial methods of today's historical science, but rather a certain eye for the spiritual experience of the human being, for that which has taken place in the spiritual experience of human beings over centuries and millennia, with an eye for how this spiritual life has changed from epoch to epoch, anyone who, with such can look with such impartiality at what certain people in more primitive times, than our own, perhaps in very ancient times, sought as paths to knowledge, will come to the conclusion that everything that lives in beliefs and worldviews today, and is often only accepted as historical, as traditional, that it goes back to ancient insights. Yes, everything that people today accept as beliefs once developed in such a way that individual people detached themselves from the general consciousness of people, as scientists do today, and that they sought such knowledge of the supersensible out of the powers of their own soul life. What they then revealed to themselves through such paths of knowledge about the supersensible, about the spiritual, they handed down to their fellow human beings, and this knowledge has then flowed through history to the present day, living in our creeds, in our world views and philosophies. Only, often, people do not seek the sources from which it emerged.

Now, the paths of knowledge of ancient times might seem irrelevant to people today, who have to search in completely different ways. Nevertheless, I will characterize at least two older paths of knowledge, the results of which still live on today in our worldviews. We could characterize many such paths of knowledge. I will pick out two, not to recommend them to anyone for the purpose of attaining higher spiritual knowledge, because they were quite appropriate for an older time, but are no longer so today, as we shall see later. So, not to recommend these things, but to characterize them for the purpose of gaining our understanding of the new, of anthroposophy, through the old knowledge. New paths must be taken today so that people can, through their changed soul life and soul constitution, again attain knowledge of spiritual life and their own spiritual origin.

In ancient times there was one such path of knowledge, which the ancient Indian yoga scholar went through, if I may use the expression. Especially with regard to the characterized qualities, one only gets corrupted ideas today when studying how this path of yoga is sought in oriental countries today. And many of those who, out of desperation, seek ways to find their way into spiritual worlds by resorting to old methods pay the price by damaging their physical and mental lives. For what the human being can practice today, even what is often written about these old ways into the spiritual world, is thoroughly corrupted. But if we look back to the older times of human development, we come to such primitive paths of knowledge that were valid in those days, and on which we can communicate with each other through the modern paths.

What is this yoga path based on? It is based on the yogi taking the breathing, I could give many such details of the yoga path, but I only want to emphasize the breathing process, that the yogi takes the ordinary breathing, which was unconscious, and elevates it to conscious inner activity. How does the ordinary consciousness perceive breathing? It happens in such a way that we inhale, hold our breath, exhale, in a certain rhythmic sequence. At most, we pay attention to this breathing process in pathological conditions. In ordinary, healthy life, this breathing process happens more or less unconsciously. Only scientifically do we have to characterize it, so to speak.

Now, the peculiar thing about the ancient spiritual path of knowledge of the yoga scholars is that they introduced a different rhythm for certain times when they did their exercises in order to gain knowledge of a higher world, that they inhaled, held their breath and exhaled in a different rhythm. What was the effect of this? First of all, it made the yogi fully aware of the breathing process, so that he consciously experienced what one otherwise does not consciously experience. Just as one otherwise experiences inner well-being, inner joy, inner suffering and pain, so the yogi experienced his breathing process, which he had changed at will in accordance with the natural breathing processes. But what happened as a result? What did he gain in terms of knowledge?

From a physiological point of view, we can initially place this before our soul. When we breathe, the breath goes into our physical body, through our spinal canal and up into the brain. The brain is permeated and undulated by the breaths and the rhythm of breathing. As I said, the ordinary act of breathing is unconscious, as is the ordinary soul life. It is always the case that, within our skin, we not only have the physical processes that belong to the nervous organism and that convey thinking, the world of thoughts, to us, but these nervous processes are also permeated by the rhythm of breathing. It is, for example, tremendously interesting to follow what I have at least hinted at in my book 'Von Seelenrätseln' (Mysteries of the Soul), how, in listening to music, the rhythm of breathing merges with what is experienced as a nerve-sense process emanating from the human organs of hearing. But not only in musical perception; in all mental life, the nervous-sensory process is permeated by the respiratory process in its rhythm. That which the human being does not notice in ordinary life was perceived by the old scholar, the yogi. He sensed inwardly how the altered breath permeated his skin, how the respiratory rhythm sank into his thought life. What insights could be gained through this? We can realize this if we put ourselves in the place of the soul life that existed in the people of those ancient times, in which there were yogi scholars who stood out from the general soul being with their special soul being.

It was not like today. Humanity has changed in its soul nature through the centuries and millennia. From today's external science, one cannot even guess how much man's inner soul life and his relationship to the outer world have changed in the course of human history. In those ancient times when yoga originated, people did not perceive the pure colors that we see in the external world, or the pure tones that we perceive when we listen to the external world or have other sensory perceptions. It is only in the course of human development that we have come to see the pure sensual world around us, as we are accustomed to today. But in older times, it was not fantastic for older humanity, as animism today believes, but elementary and natural, that one not only saw the pure colors by looking into the outside world and heard the pure tones by listening to the outside world, but that a spiritual-soul arose in the soul when one looked at the outside world. A spiritual-soul perception was seen in every source, in lightning and thunder, in the drifting clouds, in the whistling wind. They not only saw colors, they not only heard sounds, but, because of their complete conformity with nature, they also perceived a spiritual soul element in everything, just as they perceived color through their senses. In this respect, human beings were not as independent as we have become today. The human soul has also changed in this regard. The inner degree of self-awareness, of awareness of independence, which we today take for granted, did not exist for this older humanity. Man grew by immersing his spiritual soul in lightning and thunder, in clouds and wind, in plants and animals; he grew together with the outside world and felt, to a certain extent, at one with it. The one who became a yoga scholar and practiced in this way, as I have indicated, first achieved, by driving the breathing rhythm into this inner-living thinking, he first achieved what we today take for granted, one might almost say, what we are born with; the yoga scholar entered into abstract thinking, into pure thinking. But through this he came to truly feel the self, the I. He had to acquire the sense of self, the self-awareness that is innate in us, that arises in us in a self-evident way through our education. And the results of this yoga knowledge are expressed in wonderful literature and in wonderful poetic art. The one who ascended into the spiritual world in this way through yoga felt himself as a human being, he felt his spirituality, he felt that he was a living, real spirit. By withdrawing what he otherwise imparted to things in life in terms of spirituality, he felt the reality of his own spiritual self. Therefore we see in such a wonderful poem as the Bhagavad Gita is, how all the delight, all the inner amazement, all the inner feeling of greatness, is described, which these people had, who in this way approached their own spirit through their increased self-awareness, which they had cultivated in this way. In those ancient times, people tried to go on a path of knowledge into the spiritual world. And much of what the yoga scholars have passed on to their fellow human beings has been passed down through the epochs of history; it still lives today as certain sentences, conceptions, ideas about the self of the human being. The religious conceptions adhere to it. The philosophers take it up. They do not know that this was once sought and found by people on a certain path of knowledge.

But we modern people cannot walk this path. This path involves something very peculiar. The one who tries to penetrate into the spiritual world in this way becomes extraordinarily sensitive inwardly. His inner life becomes so active and spiritualized that he must withdraw to a certain extent from the robust outer life and its demands. That is why such spiritual seekers, as I have described them, became lonely people. But in older times people had confidence in such lonely people. That was the peculiarity of that older culture, that one said to oneself: in order to come to real wisdom about the spiritual world, one must withdraw from life, become a lonely person, a hermit. These hermits must be asked if one wants to know something about the spiritual destiny of the human soul. And so one had confidence in the lonely, the hermits.

Today, however, our culture does not encourage this. Today, our culture encourages something different: people today are oriented towards activity. Today, a person must only consider himself capable if he can engage in active life, even if he gains his insights only in a way that is appropriate for participating in life. Today people would not be able to trust someone who has to separate himself from the rest of life in order to gain knowledge. That is why I have characterized these old ways in contrast to the new one, which I will then describe for the sake of understanding. But, as I said, the old path cannot lead to anything equivalent to what an ancient civilization has achieved through the path of yoga, even if this civilization only experienced this way of living in the spiritual worlds in a few hermit specimens of their race.

And now I would like to mention a second path, which has also been taken many times and whose results still live on in our worldviews, our philosophies, our other beliefs, without our being clear about the sources. But this path is already closer to modern man, although it cannot be taken in the same way as it was in ancient times. It is the path of asceticism.

What did the ascetic seek? He tuned down, paralyzed the physical functions of his body. His bodily life had to become calmer than usual. His life had to become one that did not intervene in the external world with all its strength. It even had to become one that inflicted suffering and pain on itself, that carried out asceticism in this way. Such a person came to very specific conclusions, very specific experiences. These experiences should not be misunderstood. One should not believe that by describing these experiences, the view is to be justified that our body, as it exists in a healthy state, is not suitable for our life between birth and death. Yes, just as we carry our healthy body with us, without ascetic weakening, it is suitable precisely for the fully valid life between birth and death. But those who devoted themselves to asceticism in ancient times realized that, however suitable the human body is for the external physical and sensory life, the more it is subdued and paralyzed, the more suitable it becomes for grasping and experiencing the spiritual world. Therefore, through asceticism one can experience the spiritual world. Again, a path that we cannot follow today, again a path that makes us unfit for the outer world. If we weaken our physicality, we also weaken our soul life. We cannot be efficient enough for ourselves; nor can we work for the benefit of our fellow human beings. Therefore, asceticism cannot be our path. But it is extremely important for our understanding that we become aware of the fact that the human body in its healthy state is a kind of obstacle to living oneself into the spiritual world. If this obstacle is removed or weakened, then the human being can live into the will nature of the spirit that underlies the world.

In describing these two paths into the spiritual worlds, I have also had to emphasize that they cannot be ours. Those of you who remember the exercises I described in my last lecture here will have noticed that I have described different exercises. I do not want to repeat them today; you can read about the rest in the various books. However, I would like to quickly characterize a certain aspect of how these exercises work. We do not turn to the breathing process when seeking the path to the spiritual worlds in an anthroposophical way. We approach our thinking, our thought life, directly, not indirectly through breathing. We bring other thought processes into thinking itself, so to speak. In a sense, we leave behind what is particularly useful for all abstract thinking today and celebrates such triumphs. We leave this abstract thinking. We devote ourselves to a meditative life, to a certain resting on images and ideas, in a way we do not otherwise do when we remain in abstract thought. We devote ourselves to a certain inner concentration. In other words, we devote ourselves to a practicing of the life of thought, just as the ancient Indian devoted himself to a practicing of the life of breathing. He allowed breathing to indirectly transform this thinking. We turn directly to the thought. We bring more rhythm into our thinking, whereas in ordinary consciousness we have more logic in it. We gradually attain what I can characterize as the vitalization of thinking.

Yes, we turn directly to thinking with our soul exercises, and we arrive at the thought that the thoughts we otherwise have appear to us more or less dead in their abstractness compared to living thinking. While the ancient Indian yogi was guiding the living thinking, which he and his whole world had in ordinary life, to the abstract thinking that can grasp the self, we in turn start from what we have as self, as abstract thinking in the self, and fully consciously bring this thinking to life, so that we arrive at what I would like to call exact clairvoyance. I beg you not to misunderstand the expression, it is only a term. This exact clairvoyance, which is attained through thought processes, has nothing to do with the vague mystical ideas of ancient times or even of the present. Just as modern astronomy developed from ancient astrology, just as modern chemistry developed from ancient alchemy, just as these sciences have moved more towards the material and have overcome astrology and alchemy, so too, to characterize this, modern exact clairvoyance, as it develops from anthroposoph , leads from the older, more materialistic clairvoyance — since Indian clairvoyance is materialistic —, so modern clairvoyance, by turning first to purely spiritual-soul processes on the side of thinking, leads from the more materialism of older times into the spiritual.

I would like to describe to you how modern thinking, how this living thinking, this exact clairvoyance, leads deeper and deeper into the world, so that within the sensory we can ultimately perceive the supersensory, the spiritual. In doing so, I must come to certain subtle aspects of the human soul life, but if one wants to find real paths to the spiritual world, truthful paths to the spiritual world, one must already engage in soul subtleties.

Let us assume, for example, how the modern human being visualizes a higher animal. He tries to get to know it as far as science is able to do today – but science has ideals to be able to do this better and better, but it will not reach something that I want to characterize right away – with today's abstract thinking we can visualize how the bones, the muscles, the internal organs of an animal are formed, how the individual life processes flow into one another. In short, we can visualize the form and inner life of the higher animal in our abstract thinking, which we are now developing methodically in research in a fully justified way. Then we look at the human being. We do the same with the human being. Again, we visualize how its bone system, its muscle system is formed, how the life processes flow into one another and compose the whole human being as an organization. Then we compare the two. We find that one is, so to speak, a transformation of the other. Depending on our way of thinking and our disposition, we will either say that this human form has developed from the animal form over time, and we will become more materialistic. With more or less justification, we will then become Darwinians. Or, if we are more spiritual or idealistic, we will look for a different context. But such a context arises when we compare the higher animal with the human being itself.

We can do this with the kind of thinking that is abstract and that appears as dead thinking to the mind that has come to exact clairvoyance of living thinking; the kind of thinking through which we can only stand beside external things, through which we can make an inner mental image of every external thing and every external process and compare them in an external way.

With living thinking, as I mean it and as it can be developed in man in the characterized way, we can now also make an inner image of a higher animal. But the living thought is then able to transform itself inwardly, to grow, so that it passes over of itself into the thought of man, without our first having to compare. We arrive at forming a living thought about the animal, which we can then place next to the dead thought of the human being. We gain the living thought that transforms internally, that grows and from which the form of the human being is then formed internally in the soul. That is, after all, the peculiarity of our present-day science when it speaks of development, that it says that one being passes into the other, but that it cannot pass from the thought itself, which it can gain from the one being, to the thought of the other being in such a living way as is only the case with the living thought.

I must therefore draw attention to something that characterizes this vitalization of thought so that I may be better understood in these subtle matters. Let us imagine taking a magnetic needle, placing it in a certain direction, and then turning it this way and that. In all directions, it will behave differently than if we were to place it in just one direction, in the direction that forms the connecting line between the magnetic north pole and the magnetic south pole. This one line behaves differently to the magnetic needle than all the other directions. We see that we do not conceive of space as an indeterminate coexistence, as an indeterminate emptiness, for inanimate nature, for magnetism, but that we have to conceive of this space as being inwardly lived through, so that, for example, for the magnetic direction there is a special spatial direction to which, in a sense, this magnetic direction belongs. So we cannot conceive of space in an undifferentiated way, but rather in an inwardly differentiated, inwardly shaped way. To such a view of space comes living thinking.

We look at the animal. It has its main direction horizontally, which also continues into the direction of the head. Those animals that have an upright head posture are exceptions, which I cannot go into now. Otherwise, I could show that these exceptions confirm what needs to be said about the fact that the animal's organization is such because its backbone lies in a certain spatial direction parallel to the earth's surface, just as the magnetic needle has its calm existence by lying in the direction from the earth's north pole to the earth's south pole.

Now let us take the human being and go over to him with the thought that we form about the animal – with many others, but for example with the only one of this horizontal backbone line. We transform the animal image itself. We imagine the horizontal backbone line vertically. Now the human being is different in space; he acquires this vertical line of space. This is only one detail. One must embrace many things in order to experience how thought, by passing over, by simply passing over the phenomena, the inner experiences, much that is animal, is not merely transferred to the human being, but is inwardly and vitally transformed , by living from animal to human being, and not just by developing the thought in the human being itself, in this way one goes from the thought, which one has vividly developed in the animal, to the thought of the human being in an inwardly vivid way. What do you get out of it? You get out of it that you now have an inwardly living thinking that not only presents itself and compares the facts and things of the world, but that submerges into the things themselves. Our thought itself lives inwardly in the same way that growth lives in the animal, in the human being. We immerse ourselves in the spirituality of the world. But this is something that can very easily be opposed, and it is precisely the peculiar thing about anthroposophical spiritual science that one likes to bring these objections to one's soul. For what anthroposophy has to say about the world should be certain and exact. That is why I myself point out what they could point out when I speak of living thinking. I point out that we have, for example, in the wonderful spiritual life of an Oken and a Schelling, that these thinkers had lively thoughts, but in a certain respect only imaginative, lively thoughts, that they, so to speak, thoughts they developed from a fact, an entity, shaped them out; thoughts about other facts, other entities, thus making thinking alive, capable of growth, transforming, as the beings of the world themselves transform and are growing. But there is one thing we do not find in these thinkers that fully guarantees the reality of what is given by this living thinking. But anthroposophical science must point this out, because it is simply experienced, by coming to living thoughts, to this exact clairvoyance, in the way that the various books describe as anthroposophical science.

Yes, my dear attendees, if you really set about developing such a supersensible world view and the thoughts of an animal, of another being, of a process, and inwardly experiencing the thoughts themselves, metamorphosing them – a process that Goethe already strove for, and he also already came a long way to a certain degree, anthroposophy continues to develop Goetheanism —, if one continues to develop this further, one notices very soon: something connects with this living thinking in the inner soul life, which very much authenticates reality. With each such step, in which we allow the thought to arise from the other thought in a living way, suffering and pain are laid upon the inner soul life. And it is absolutely necessary for anyone who truly wants to achieve an exact clairvoyance to go through pain and suffering. The living thought does not penetrate in the same way as the thought “I want to move my arm, move my hand”, that is, without me feeling it. The living thought permeates all human existence down to the physical. But the experience remains in the soul. It is an experience of suffering, and this suffering, this pain must be overcome. Only then does that arise in man which now fully guarantees supersensible knowledge. But the one who has truly acquired such knowledge, you can ask him what he thinks about his life's destiny. He will always tell you: My joys, the things I feel with relish in life, what I experience as happiness, I gratefully accept from fate. My insights, the things that really enlighten me about the innermost structure and nature of the human being, I owe, even in ordinary life, to my sufferings, my pains, by overcoming them and transforming them into knowledge.

Thus, for someone who is prudent in this way, even the ordinary pain of life prepares them for the suffering that they must experience through the influence of living thought on their entire human existence. But they must overcome this suffering, this pain. As a result, they now become, if I may use the paradoxical expression, a sense organ as a whole human being. Just as we have otherwise buried the individual sensory organs in our organism, and perceive the sensory world through them, so we become a sensory organ as a whole human being when we overcome the painful experience associated with the living thought. You can see this if you consider the following.

Take the wonderfully formed eye. Among other processes, something arises that acts like destruction when we see colors through the effects of light. If we were to experience the subtle processes that take place in a person when perceiving light, they would also appear in us as a quiet pain. However, we are so robustly organized in the present stage of human development that we simply do not perceive what is a quiet pain at the bottom of our sensory life. This is overcome and sensory perception is felt neutrally. In this way, the supersensible knower also struggles through pain and suffering to become a sense organ. The expression sounds paradoxical, but it is justified because with this sense organ, which we become as a whole human being, we perceive a spiritual world around us, just as we perceive the physical world with ordinary sense organs. In this way, the human being becomes a sensory organ, an explorer of the spiritual world. In this way, what he elevates through suffering and pain by overcoming them unites within him with what is living thought.

When this life, this connection between living thought and overcome suffering and pain, comes to life in us, then we see in a different way — let us say, to highlight one example, the most important example — we see in a different way the person standing before us as a physical figure than we did before. We look at him in such a way that our outer eyes see the physical configuration of the space, see the colors through which the person reveals himself in the physical world. We see everything that is revealed externally in the human being between birth and death, we see it through our senses and through the mind, which understands the language of the other, which can summarize in conformity to law what the senses see. But when one has struggled to the realization that I mean, then one sees the physical-sensory of man embedded in a soul-spiritual form, in an auric structure, in a human aura, which now represents the spiritual-soul of man. This spiritual-soul aura, which now reveals to us the real spiritual-soul in man, is not attained through all kinds of fantasies. It is attained today, too, on serious paths of knowledge, on those serious paths of knowledge that awaken the thought to liveliness, that bring the contemplation of the real to assurance by overcoming suffering and pain, to spiritual sensitivity of mind, if I may use this paradoxical expression. And when we see the spiritual soul of the human being before us, the auric, then we do not only see the present human being. Then we look back at how the human being was spiritually and soulfully before he descended from a spiritual and soul world in which he lived before this earthly existence and connected with what had been prepared in the mother's body to become a physical human being. Just as we look at a person today, how he grows, and how we know when a person is an adult, that this adulthood leads back to childhood, so we see in what we reveal in the human being today as the human aura, going back and seeing it currently going back. The child does not exist alongside the adult human being. The spiritual soul in which the human being lived in the spiritual soul world before descending, stands before us in vitality. It stands before us in such a way that we cannot only speak of it in an abstract way, but in such a concrete way that I can characterize this view for you in the following way.

When we are here on earth, we look out into the external world, we see the wonderful starry sky above, we see the clouds passing by, the realms of nature, we look out of our sense organs, out of our eyes, we perceive the external world through our sense organs. But we do not perceive what lives within the human being in the same way. I have already hinted at this today and last time, how little we really understand this. We can look at the outside world. What lives within us, we can visualize it through anatomy and physiology, but there we do not look at the living human being, but at the human being who has become dead.

Anthroposophy teaches us about what lives inside the human being – I would even say inside the human skin itself, as the physical embodiment of the human being. The air circle that extends around the earth is wonderfully certain when we follow it with everything that happens in it. Even if today's meteorology can only explore a little of it, we have a wonderful law in this air circle. Basically, all life on earth is grounded in it. We look into wonderful secrets when we see through the laws of the air circle. But what we can reveal, what lives in the human lungs, is much more wonderful. If the air circle is large and the lungs are small, size is not important. Here, inside the human being, an organ lives, if we know its laws, it is more magnificent and powerful than that of the air circle. And if we look at the sun, the source of light and warmth: everything that comes from the sun, everything that affects the living beings on earth, and everything else that is in space, is wonderfully powerful. But if we look into the human heart, it is smaller than what we see outside in gigantic size, but it is more wonderfully designed and carries a more powerful law within itself.

And so there lives in the inner being of man a microcosm, a small world compared to the great world, here between birth and death. We see the cosmos, we do not see this inner lawfulness. Our spiritual soul, as it was before it descended to physical life on earth, did not see as we see the cosmic outer world through our eyes, but it saw the inner being of man, that was its world. And it prepared itself to now unconsciously rule this inner being of the human being between birth and death in this earthly existence. We now look with a different understanding at the indeterminately formed brain of the child and how it develops plastically. This is shaped out of what our soul looked at before it descended. It sees the human being within. It sees the world that is given to him in the human interior. And because our spiritual soul lives in us between birth and death, and therefore does not see this interior because it lives in it, but sees the outside world because it does not live in it, the spiritual soul sees the interior of the human being as its world before birth.

This is initially one side of the extraterrestrial existence of man. The other refers to what human action is, what human behavior is. We look at it in a more or less external way through our senses and our mind. We find how man lives from childhood to later years. We then find how a stroke of fate comes about, how one person finds another. People find each other, they exchange their inner experiences, so to speak. This exchange becomes decisive for the rest of their lives on earth and perhaps for much further afield. This is how it appears on the surface. You see it, so to speak, higher knowledge shows this as the blind see color, one sees it in its true essence. And as the blind are operated on and live into the world of color and see something completely new in it, so he whose spiritual eyes are opened in the way described today sees something completely new in what man accomplishes in his deeds. He observes how the child takes its first steps in life, how sympathy and antipathy arise, how the child grows up, how sympathy and antipathy develop, and how the human being, by continually living in sympathy and antipathy, is led to the blows of fate. Then one no longer speaks of the fact that people only found each other by chance. Then one becomes aware of the deep wisdom that lies in something like what Goethe's friend Knebel said out of mature experience. He said, addressing Goethe with this age-ripe wisdom: When you look back on your life as a human being and survey what has happened to you since childhood. It is as if we had progressed in a well-planned manner from our first childlike step and had selected through inner longing what we had come to last.

It turns out for exact clairvoyance that the child is guided and driven from the first step by sympathy and antipathy, that in fact an inner longing lives unconsciously for the ordinary consciousness, that we lead ourselves to the blow of fate that is decisive for life. By broadening this, as we look at an adult and look back at his childhood, we look back at what is revealed through the auric in man, and we see the passage of the entire human destiny through repeated earthly lives.

We become aware that just as our development as an adult is dependent on our development in childhood, so what we build for ourselves as fate is the result of a previous life on earth. And in connection with this, it becomes clear to us, especially when we become completely one with our sense organ in the way described, that we can also know how we can live when we no longer have the body, when we pass through the gate of death and discard the body. We learn to see without the body. The essence of this spiritual sense of meaning consists precisely in the fact that we see as a spirit in the spiritual world. Therefore, we learn to recognize what we will be like when we have discarded our physical body. And just as we can describe in concrete terms how we look into the inner being of a person before birth, we also learn to recognize how something develops in us that passes through the gate of death and enters the spiritual world again in order to continue life without the body.

Here we are at the point where genuine modern knowledge, which still seems quite fantastic to most people today, but which is just as precisely founded, where modern knowledge connects with religious, pious-religious life in the same way that ancient knowledge developed into religious life. If we start from such insights, which appear to be purely scientific, we arrive at the deepest experiences, at the fulfillment of the deepest longings of the human soul.

If we can suggest how something of the soul and spirit detaches itself from the physical by returning the body to the earth as a corpse, then we also become aware of how something else detaches itself from physical existence. We see how people form friendships, how they are attached to one another in love, how spiritual and soul bonds extend from heart to heart in the family. We see how this human life creates bridges and bonds from person to person. By being able to look into the spiritual world, we also really gradually learn to see how the soul detaches itself in death – however strange it may sound to people today, it can be spoken of as a truly accurate insight – we learn to look into the spiritual world in such a way that what is physical about all the bonds of friendship and love ties, in family ties, in all that has become dear to us in our life together with our fellow human beings, we learn to look at what is physical about it and at what is spiritual about it, and we learn to look at how the soul detaches itself in death, how human souls find each other again. The hand that we have extended to another, the warmth of which was the expression of what is experienced from soul to soul, the beating of the heart in joy when we feel togetherness in friendship and love, these physical accompanying facts die with our physical body. That which has been lived in you as spiritual and soul, as spiritual and soul together in friendship and love, escapes from the earthly existence, as the spiritual and soul escapes from the physical earthly body.

We do not arrive at this certainty only through religious belief, but through sure paths of knowledge, that those who were together in spirit here on earth will be reunited in spiritual companionship. We learn to recognize that what is lived out in earthly life is but the image of a spiritual vision. If we value and hold dear, we also learn to recognize how this valuing and cherishing of earthly life is only the basis for a further experience that follows when the earthly must be relinquished and the spiritual wrests itself from the earthly. And a religious feeling, a religious experience, a true piety then arises out of a truly earnestly striven-for realization. But this will give something to modern life, which, as I believe, every unbiased person must admit, already lives in the longings of many souls today, and also lives in the souls of those who do not admit it, yes, who, when one speaks of it, perhaps turn away unwillingly and as opponents; it also lives in them. For in all that is preserved for men today from ancient times of spiritual ideas, there is already something that makes him uncertain. In all that he believes in, he finds something uncertain. He longs again for knowledge of the spiritual.

One may say: What does all this concern those who do not experience it themselves? Yes, first of all, in my book 'How to Attain Knowledge of Higher Worlds' and other books, I have described what needs to be done, and today anyone who has the necessary patience and energy can enter into the spiritual world to a certain extent. You can enter and check whether what I have described today is fantasy or reality. But even if you cannot do it yourself, you can still, for the benefit of today's culture and for the good of social life today and in the future, convince yourself through common sense, without being an anthroposophical spiritual researcher, of the truth of supersensible experience, which today, however, individual people must strive for just as individual people only become astronomers, just as individual people only become natural scientists. But it will be possible to gain trust, as in the old days people gained trust in hermits, in those who can justify themselves by speaking about the supersensible worlds. Just as one need not be a painter to recognize the beauty of a picture through healthy human understanding, so one need not be a spiritual researcher, but only have a straightforward, unbiased human understanding, unhampered by prejudice, to see through healthy human understanding what the anthroposophical spiritual researcher reveals to the world as the results of the spiritual path of knowledge. Today, people can let the results of spiritual science approach them with a healthy understanding of the human being, just as one lets the results of astronomy or chemistry approach, without being an astronomer or chemist oneself.

However, the spiritual researcher today must not withdraw from life. He must place himself in the midst of life. For one can only have trust in someone in whom one sees: intervenes in life and intervenes in life in the same way as other people. Today, life must prove itself in life, and anyone who has something to say about life must also put themselves into life with all their might. That is why today we need different methods of knowledge of the higher worlds from those I have described comparatively, in order to lead to understanding, as those of the older times.

But what do we gain from the fact that such knowledge of the supersensible world is spreading again? Today, if we are not immersed in the most blind materialism, we also have concepts and ideas of a spiritual world. We have them, but we are aware that we have ideas, concepts, images of the spiritual world that are dead. If we look back to older times, we do not want to conjure them up, because humanity must progress. What was experienced in social and other respects in ancient epochs cannot be more appealing to us; as free human beings, we must go beyond them. But when we look back, we must admit to ourselves as unbiased observers of history: Where the ideas originated, to which so many still cling today, there were not only abstract thoughts and ideas present, there people knew, by turning to the spiritual in thinking, feeling and willing, that the spiritual itself descended into human nature; it is a fellow-member of the world in which we live. Not only thoughts, ideas of the spiritual, these people have had according to their consciousness, but the gods, the spirits themselves walked among them. Such knowledge, such knowledge, we need again. We have beautiful, great thoughts about the spiritual, but they are thoughts of a spiritual that is alien to man, that he only visualizes in abstract thoughts.

Anthroposophy, in turn, seeks to introduce the spiritual element itself into these thoughts, so that the human being in turn becomes aware, as he was aware in the best epochs of religious creativity: not only are thoughts in the human being from the spirit, but the spirit itself walks around with us. Just as we human beings live here on earth in a physical body and carry a spiritual and soul element within us, an immortal element that escapes the physical in the way we have described today, so we walk here among the invisible beings of the spiritual world. We are here as human beings, and in turn we become aware of the spiritual world as a living entity. Such an awareness that the spiritual world is our living companion, that we are not dependent on abstract, powerless thoughts from the spirit, has a different effect. This spiritual world has a different effect on us. It transforms our knowledge into something that in turn fills us with religious, artistic, and fully human content, so that we can fully engage with all of life on earth, and indeed with all of life in the world. We get a sense of what we, as temporal human beings, mean for eternal existence. But we also receive impulses for action that are stronger and more powerful than those that are mere ideas.

And this is something that can also be observed today in social life, that people no longer carry a living spirituality within them, and therefore, when they speak of social life, they sink down into instincts and drives. In the East, we see terribly how people, because they have lost a living spirituality, develop a destructive social life that also hangs over Europe like a threatening specter. It must be conquered. But it can only be conquered if people become aware of the living spirituality that can be taken up into thought and into the will and with which man can live as with something living and not with something dead, cognizing for himself, but also as a social being among social beings, with whom he can establish, as with spiritual impulses that are given to him from the spiritual world of which he is aware, that which the serious souls hope and long for as ascending forces of our culture; our culture, which has so many forces of decline within it, but which must be defeated. What can work as a rising force in our time, what can flourish for us from the spirit that we take up in a living way, that is what the earnest souls long for and hope for today, what humanity needs in order to be able to live in the present in the right way, in order to live out of this present into the complicated future of humanity.

For the present and the future, for the progress of our culture, which we must strive for with all our might, we need the living spirit. Anthroposophy does not want to be something fantastic, but, even if it is perhaps still weak today, it wants to be a path to the living spirit. It wants to fathom the relationship between man and this living spirit, so that man may find what he needs at this moment to find the rising forces in the face of the declining forces for the present and especially for the future of humanity.

We stand today, as it were, at the starting-point of the foundation of the Anthroposophical Society in the narrower sense, and we should take this opportunity of once more reminding ourselves of the importance and significance of our cause. It is true that what the Anthroposophical Society wishes to be for the newer culture should not in principle differentiate it from that which we have always carried on in our circle under the name of theosophy. But perhaps this giving of a new name may nevertheless remind us of the earnestness and dignity with which we intend to work in our spiritual movement, and it is with this point in view that I have chosen the title of this course of lectures. At the very outset of our anthroposophical cause we shall speak on a subject which is capable of indicating in manifold ways the remarkable importance of our spiritual movement for the civilisation of the present day.

Many people might be surprised to find two such apparently widely different spiritual streams brought together, as the great Eastern poem of the Bhagavad Gita and the Epistles of one who was so closely connected with the founding of Christianity, the Apostle Paul. We can best recognise the nearness of these two spiritual streams to one another if, by way of introduction, we indicate how at the present day, is to be found, on the one hand, that which appertains to the great Bhagavad Gita poem, and on the other the Paulinism which originated with the beginning of Christianity.

Certainly much in the spiritual life of our present time differs from what it was even a comparatively short time ago, but it is just that very difference that makes a spiritual movement such as Anthroposophy so necessary.

Let us reflect how a comparatively short time ago if a man concerned himself with the spiritual life of his own times he had in reality, as I have shown in my Basle and Munich courses, to study three periods of a thousand years each; one pre-Christian period of a thousand years, and two other millennia, the sum of which is not yet quite completed; two thousand years permeated and saturated with the spiritual stream of Christianity. What might such a man have said only a short time ago when contemplating the spiritual life of mankind when, as we have said, there was no question of a theosophical, or anthroposophical movement as we now understand it? He might have said: “At the present time something is making itself prominently felt which can only be sought for in the thousand years preceding the Christian era.” For only during the last thousand years before the Christian era does one find individual men of personal importance in spiritual life. However great and powerful and mighty much in the spiritual streams of earlier times may appear to us, yet persons and individuals do not stand out from that which underlies those streams. Let us just glance back at what we reckon in not too restricted a sense, as the last thousand years before the Christian era. Let us glance back at the old Egyptian or the Chaldean-Babylonian spiritual stream; there we survey a continuity so to speak, a connected spiritual life. Only in the Greek spiritual life do we find individuals as such standing out as entirely spiritual and living. Great, mighty teachings, a mighty outlook into the space of the Cosmos; all this we find in the old Egyptian and Chaldean-Babylonian times, but only in Greece do we begin to look to separate personalities, to a Socrates or Pericles, a Phidias, a Plato, an Aristotle. Personality, as such, begins to be marked. That is the peculiarity of the spiritual life of the last three thousand years; and I do not only mean the remarkable personalities themselves, but rather the impression made by the spiritual life upon each separate individuality, upon each personality. In these last three thousand years it has become a question of personality, if we may say so; and the fact that separate individuals now feel the need of taking part in the spiritual life, find inner comfort, hope, peace, inward bliss and security, in the various spiritual movements, gives these their significance. And since, until a comparatively short time ago, we were only interested in history inasmuch as it proceeded from one personality to another, we got no really clear understanding of what occurred before the last three thousand years. The history, for which alone we had, till recently, any understanding, began with Greece, and during the transition from the first to the second thousand years, occurred what is connected with the great Being, Christ Jesus. During the first thousand years that which we owe to Greece is predominant, and those Grecian times tower forth in a particular way. At the beginning of them stand the Mysteries. That which flowed forth from these, as we have often described, passed over into the Greek poets, philosophers and artists in every domain. For if we wish rightly to understand AEschylus, Sophocles, Euripides we must seek the source for such understanding in that which flowed out of the Mysteries. If we wish to understand Socrates, Plato and Aristotle, we must seek the source of their philosophies in the Mysteries, not to speak of such a towering figure as that of Heraclitus. You may read of him in my book, Christianity as Mystical Fact, how entirely he depended upon the Mysteries.

Then in the second thousand years we see the Christian impulse pouring into spiritual development, gradually absorbing the Greek and uniting itself with it. The whole of the second thousand years passed in such a way that the powerful Christ-impulse united itself with all that came over from Greece as living tradition and life. So we see Greek wisdom, Greek feeling, and Greek art slowly and gradually uniting organically with the Christ-impulse. Thus the second thousand years ran its course. Then in the third thousand years begins the cultivation of the personality. We may say that we can see in the third thousand years how differently the Greek influence is felt. We see it when we consider such artists as Raphael, Michael Angelo and Leonardo da Vinci. No longer does the Greek influence work on together with Christianity in the third thousand years, as it did in the culture of the second; not as something historically great, not as something contemplated externally was Greek influence felt during the second thousand years. But in the third thousand we have to turn of set purpose to the Greek. We see how Leonardo da Vinci, Michael Angelo and Raphael allowed themselves to be influenced by the great works of art then being discovered; we see the Greek influence being more and more consciously absorbed. It was absorbed unconsciously during the second thousand years, but in the third millennium it was taken up more and more consciously. An example of how consciously this Greek influence was being recognised in the eyes of the world is to be found in the figure of the philosopher, Thomas Aquinas; and how he was compelled to unite what flowed out from Christian philosophy with the philosophy of Aristotle. Here the Greek influence was absorbed consciously and united with Christianity in a philosophic form; as in the case of Raphael, Michael Angelo and Leonardo da Vinci, in the form of art. This whole train of thought rises higher through spiritual life, and even takes the form of a certain religious opposition in the cases of Giordano Bruno and Galileo. Notwithstanding all this, we find everywhere Greek ideas and conceptions, especially about nature, cropping up again; there is a conscious absorption of the Greek influence, but this does not go back beyond the Greek age. In every soul, not only in the more learned or more highly educated, but in every soul down to the simplest, a spiritual life is spread abroad and lives in them, in which the Greek and Christian influences are consciously united. From the University down to the peasant's cottage Greek ideas are to be found united with Christianity.

Now in the nineteenth century something peculiar appeared, something which requires Anthroposophy to explain it. There we see in one single example what mighty forces are at play. When the wonderful poem of the Bhagavad Gita first became known in Europe, certain important thinkers were enraptured by the greatness of the poem, by its profound contents; and it should never be forgotten that such a thoughtful spirit as William von Humboldt, when he became acquainted with it, said that it was the most profoundly philosophical poem that had ever come under his notice; and he made the beautiful remark, that it was worth while to have been allowed to grow as old as he to be enabled to become acquainted with the Bhagavad Gita, the great spiritual song that sounds forth from the primeval holy times of Eastern antiquity. What a wonderful thing it is that slowly, although perhaps not attractive as yet to large circles, so much of Eastern antiquity was poured out into the nineteenth century by means of the Bhagavad Gita. For this is not like other writings that came over from the ancient East which ever proclaim Eastern thoughts and feelings from this or that standpoint. In the Bhagavad Gita we are confronted with something of which we may say that it is the united flow of all the different points of view of Eastern thought, feeling and perception. That is what makes it of such significance.

Now let us turn back to old India. Apart from other less important things, we find there, in the first place, three shades, if we may so call them, of spiritual streams flowing forth from the old Indian pre-historic times. That spiritual stream which we meet with in the earliest Vedas and which developed further in the later Vedantic poems, is one quite definite one—we will describe it presently—it is, if we may say so, a one-sided yet quite distinct spiritual stream. We then meet with a second spiritual stream in the Sankhya philosophy, which again goes in a definite spiritual direction; and, lastly, we meet a third shade of the Eastern spiritual stream in Yoga. Here we have the three most remarkable oriental spiritual streams placed before our souls. The Vedas, Sankhya, and Yoga.

The Sankhya system of Kapila, the Yoga philosophy of Patanjali and the Vedas are spiritual streams of definite colouring, which, because of this definite colouring, are to a certain extent one-sided, and which are great because of their one-sidedness. In the Bhagavad Gita we have the harmonious inter-penetration of all three spiritual streams. What the Veda philosophy has to give is to be found shining forth in the Bhagavad Gita; what the Yoga of Patanjali has to give mankind we find again in the Bhagavad Gita; and what the Sankhya of Kapila has to give we find there too. Moreover, we do not find these as a conglomeration, but as three parts flowing harmoniously into one organism, as if they originally belonged together. The greatness of the Bhagavad Gita lies in the comprehensiveness of its description of how this oriental spiritual life receives its tributaries from the Vedas on the one side, on another from the Sankhya philosophy of Kapila, and again on a third side from the Yoga of Patanjali.

We shall now briefly characterise what each of these spiritual streams has to give us.

The Veda stream is most emphatically a philosophy of unity, it is the most spiritual monism that could be thought of; the Veda philosophy which is consolidated in the Vedanta is a spiritual monism. If we wish to understand the Veda philosophy, we must, in the first place, keep clearly before our souls the fact that this philosophy is based upon the thought that man can find something deeper within his own self, and that what he first realises in ordinary life is a kind of expression or imprint of this self of his; that man can develop, and that his development will draw up the depths of the actual self more and more from the foundations of his soul. A higher self rests as though asleep in man, and this higher self is not that of which the present-day man is directly aware, but that which works within him, and to which he must develop himself. When man some day attains to that which lives within him as “self,” he will then realise, according to the Veda-philosophy, that this “self” is one with the all-embracing self of the world, that he does not only rest with his self within the all-embracing World-Self, but that he himself is one with it. So much is he one with this World-Self that he is in two-fold manner related to it. In some way similar to our physical in-breathing and out-breathing does the Vedantist picture the relationship of the human self to the World-Self Just as one draws in a breath and breathes it out again, while outside there is the universal air and within us only the small portion of it that we have drawn in so outside us we have the universal, all-embracing, all-pervading Self that lives and moves in all things, and this we breathe in when we yield ourselves to the contemplation of the spiritual Self of the World. Spiritually one breathes it in with every perception that one gets of this Self, one breathes it in with all that one draws into one's soul. All knowledge, all thinking, all perception is spiritual breathing; and that which we, as a portion of the world-Self, draw into our souls (which portion remains organically united to the whole), that is Atman, the Breath, which, as regards ourselves, is as the portion of air that we breathe in, which cannot be distinguished from the general atmosphere. So is Atman in us, which cannot be distinguished from that which is the all-ruling Self of the World. Just as we breathe out physically, so there is a devotion of the soul through which the best that is in it goes forth in the form of prayer and sacrifice to this Self. Brahman is like the spiritual out-breathing. Atman and Brahman, like in-breathing and out-breathing, make us sharers in the all-ruling World-Self. What we find in the Vedantas is a monistic spiritual philosophy, which is at the same time a religion; and the blossom and fruit of Vedantism lie in that which so blesses man, that most complete and in the highest degree satisfying feeling of unity with the universal Self powerfully weaving through the world. Vedantism treats of this connection of mankind with the unity of the world, of the fact of man's being within a part of the whole great spiritual cosmos. We cannot say the Veda-Word, because Veda means Word, but the Word-Veda as given is itself breathed forth, according to the Vedantic conception, from the all-ruling unitary Being, and the human soul can take it into itself as the highest expression of knowledge. In accepting the Veda-Word the best part of the all-mighty “Self” is taken in, the consciousness of the connection between the individual human self and this all-mighty World-Self is attained. What the Veda speaks is the God-Word which is creative, and this is born again in human knowledge, and so leads it side by side with the creative principle which lives and weaves throughout the world. Therefore, that which was written in the Vedas was valued as the Divine Word, and he who succeeded in mastering them was considered as being a possessor of the Divine Word. The Divine Word had come spiritually into the world and was to be found in the Veda-Books; those who mastered these books took part in the creative principle of the World.

Sankhya philosophy is different. When one first meets with this, as it has come down to us through tradition, we find in it exactly the opposite of the teaching of the Unity. If we wish to compare the Sankhya philosophy to anything, we may compare it to the philosophy of Leibnitz. It is a pluralistic philosophy. The several souls mentioned therein—human souls and the souls of Gods—are not traced back by the Sankhya philosophy to unitary source, but are taken as single souls existing, so to speak, from Eternity; or, at any rate, their origin is not traced back to Unity. The plurality of souls is what we find in the Sankhya philosophy. The independence of each individual soul carrying on its development in the world enclosed within its own being, is sharply accentuated; and in contrast to the plurality of souls is that which in the Sankhya philosophy is called the Prakriti element. We cannot well describe this by the modern word “matter,” for that has a materialistic meaning. But in Sankhya philosophy we do not mean to convey this with the “substantial” which is in contrast to the multiplicity of souls, and which again is not derived from a common source. In the first place, we have multiplicity of souls, and then that which we may call the material basis, which, like a primeval flood, streams through the world, through space and time, and out of which souls take the elements for their outer existence. Souls must clothe themselves in this material element, which, again, is not to be traced back to unity with the souls themselves. And so it is in the Sankhya philosophy that we principally find this material element, carefully studied. Attention is not so much directed to the individual soul; this is taken as something real that is there, confined in and united with this material basis, and which takes the most varied forms within it, and thus shows itself outwardly in many different forms. A soul clothes itself with this original material element, that may be thought of like the individual soul itself as coming from Eternity. The soul nature expresses itself through this material basic element, and in so doing it takes on many different forms, and it is in particular the study of these material forms that we find in the Sankhya philosophy. Here we have, in the first place, so to speak, the original form of this material element as a sort of spiritual primeval stream, into which the soul is first immersed. Thus if we were to glance back at the first stages of evolution, we should find there the undifferentiated material elements and immersed therein, the plurality of the souls which are to evolve further. What, therefore, we first find as Form, as yet undifferentiated from the unity of the primal stream, is the spiritual substance itself that lies at the starting-point of evolution. The first thing that then emerges, with which the soul can as yet clothe itself individually, is Budhi. So that when we picture to ourselves a soul clothed with the primal flood-substance, externally this soul is not to be distinguished from the universal moving and weaving element of the primeval flood. Inasmuch as the soul does not only enwrap itself in this first being of the universal billowing primal flood but also in that which first proceeds from this, in so far does it clothe itself in Budhi. The third element that forms itself out of the whole and through which the soul can then become more and more individual, is Ahamkara. This consists of lower and lower forms of the primeval substance. So that we have the primeval substance, the first form of which is Budhi, and its second form which is Ahamkara. The next form to that is Manas, then comes the form which consists of the organs of the senses; this is followed by the form of the finer elements, and the last form consists of the elements of the substances which we have in our physical surroundings. This is the line of evolution according to Sankhya philosophy. Above is the most super-sensible element, a primeval spiritual flow, which, growing ever denser and denser, descends to that which surrounds us in the coarser elements out of which the coarse human body is also constructed. Between these are the substances of which, for instance, our sense organs are woven, and the finer elements of which is woven our etheric or life-body. It must be carefully noticed that according to the Sankhya philosophy, all these are sheaths of the soul. Even that which springs from the first primeval flood is a sheath for the soul; the soul is at first within that; and when the Sankhya philosopher studies Budhi, Ahamkara, Manas, the senses, the finer and the coarser elements, he understands thereby the increasingly dense sheaths within which the soul expresses itself.

We must clearly understand that the manner in which the philosophy of the Vedas and the Sankhya philosophy are presented to us is only possible because they were composed in that ancient time when an old clairvoyance still existed, at any rate, to a certain extent. The Vedas and the contents of the Sankhya philosophy came into existence in different ways. The Vedas depend throughout on a primeval inspiration which was still a natural possession of primeval man; they were given to man, so to speak, without his having done anything to deserve them, except that with his whole being he prepared himself to receive into his inner depths that divine inspiration that came of itself to him, and to receive it quietly and calmly. Sankhya philosophy was formed in a different way. That process was something like the learning of our present day, only that this is not permeated by clairvoyance as the former then was. The Veda philosophy consisted of clairvoyant knowledge, inspiration given as by grace from above. Sankhya philosophy consisted of knowledge sought for as we seek it now, but sought for by people to whom clairvoyance was still accessible. This is why the Sankhya philosophy leaves the actual soul-element undisturbed, so to say. It admits that souls can impress themselves in that which one can study as the super-sensible outer forms, but it particularly studies the outer forms, which appear as the clothing of those souls. Hence we find a complete system of the forms we meet with in the world, just as in our own science we find a number of facts about nature; only that in Sankhya philosophy observation extends to a clairvoyant observation of facts. Sankhya philosophy is a science, which although obtained by clairvoyance, is nevertheless a science of outer forms that does not extend into the sphere of the soul: the soul-nature remains in a sense undisturbed by these studies. He who devotes himself to the Vedas feels absolutely that his religious life is one with the life of wisdom; but Sankhya philosophy is a science, it is a perception of the forms into which the soul impresses itself. Nevertheless, it is quite possible for the disciples of the Sankhya philosophy to feel a religious devotion of the soul for their philosophy. The way in which the soul element is organised into forms-not the soul element itself, but the form it takes-is followed up in the Sankhya philosophy. It defines the way in which the soul, more or less, preserves its individuality or else is more immersed in the material. It has to do with the soul element which is, it is true, beneath the surface, but which, within the material forms, still preserves itself as soul. A soul element thus disguised in outer form, but which reveals itself as soul, dwells in the Sattva element. A soul element immersed in form, but which is, so to say, entangled in it and cannot emerge from it, dwells in the Tamas-element; and that in which, more or less, the soul element and its outer expression in form, are, to a certain extent, balanced, dwells in the Rajas-element. Sattva, Rajas, Tamas, the three Gunas, pertain to the essential characteristics of what we know as Sankhya philosophy.

Quite different, again, is that spiritual stream which comes down to us as Yoga. That appeals directly to the soul-element itself and seeks ways and means of grasping the human soul in direct spiritual life, so that it rises from the point which it has attained in the world to higher and higher stages of soul-being. Thus Sankhya is a contemplation of the sheaths of the soul, and Yoga the guidance of the soul to higher and ever higher stages of inner experience. To devote oneself to Yoga means a gradual awakening of the higher forces of the soul so that it experiences something not to be found in everyday life, which opens the door to higher and higher stages of existence.

Yoga is therefore the path to the spiritual worlds, the path to the liberation of the soul from outer forms, the path to an independent life of the soul within itself. Yoga is the other side of the Sankhya philosophy. Yoga acquired its great importance when that inspiration, which was given as a blessing from above and which inspired the Vedas, was no longer able to come down. Yoga had to be made use of by those souls who, belonging to a later epoch of mankind, could no longer receive anything by direct revelation, but were obliged to work their way up to the heights of spiritual existence from the lower stages. Thus in the old primal Indian times we have three sharply-defined streams, the Vedas, the Sankhaya, and the Yoga, and today we are called upon once more to unite these spiritual streams, so to say, by bringing them to the surface in the way proper for our own age, from the foundations of the soul and from the depths of the Cosmos.

You may find all three streams again in our Spiritual Science. If you read what I have tried to place before you in the first chapters of my Occult Science about the human constitution, about sleeping and waking, life and death, you will find there what in our present-day sense we may call Sankhya philosophy. Then read what is there said about the evolution of the world from Saturn down to our own time, and you have the Veda-philosophy expressed for our own age; while, if you read the last chapters, which deal with human evolution, you have Yoga expressed for our own age. Our age must in an organised way unite that which radiates across to us in three so sharply-defined spiritual streams from old India in the Veda-philosophy, the Sankhya philosophy, and Yoga. For that reason our age must study the wonderful poem of the Bhagavad Gita, which, in a deeply poetical manner, represents, as it were, a union of these three streams; our own age must be deeply moved by the Bhagavad Gita. We should seek something akin to our own spiritual strivings in the deeper contents of the Bhagavad Gita. Our spiritual streams do not only concern themselves with the older ones as a whole, but also in detail. You will have recognised that in my Occult Science an attempt has been made to produce the things out of themselves. Nowhere do we depend on history. Nowhere can one who really understands what is said find in any assertion about Saturn, Sun, and Moon, that things are related from historical sources; they are simply drawn forth from the matter itself. Yet, strange to say, that which bears the stamp of our own time corresponds in striking places with what resounds down to us out of the old ages. Only one little proof shall be given. We read in the Vedas in a particular place, about cosmic development, which can be expressed in words somewhat like the following: “Darkness was enwrapt in darkness in the primal beginning, all was indistinguishable flood-essence. Then arose a mighty void, that was everywhere permeated with warmth.” I now ask you to remember the result of our study of the evolution of Saturn, in which the substance of Saturn is spoken of as a warmth-substance, and you will feel the harmony between the so-called “Newest thing in Occult Science,” and what is said in the Vedas. The next passage runs: “Then first arose the Will, the first seed of Thought, the connection between the Existent and the Non-existent, ... and this connection was found in the Will ...” And remember what was said in the new mode of expression about the Spirits of Will. In all we have to say at the present time, we are not seeking to prove a concord with the old; the harmony comes of itself, because truth was sought for there and is again being sought for on our own ground

Now in the Bhagavad Gita we find, as it were, the poetical glorification of the three spiritual streams just described. The great teachings that Krishna himself communicated to Arjuna are brought to our notice at an important moment of the world's history—of importance for that far-distant age. The moment is significant, because it is the time when the old blood-ties were loosening. In all that is to be said in these lectures about the Bhagavad Gita you must remember what has again and again been emphasised: that ties of blood, racial attachment and kinship, were of quite special significance in primeval times, and only grew less strong by degrees. Remember all that is said in my pamphlet, The Occult Significance of Blood. When these blood-ties begin to loosen, on account of that loosening, the great struggle began which is described in the Mahabharata, and of which the Bhagavad Gita is an episode. We see there how the descendants of two brothers, and hence, blood relations, separate on account of their spiritual tendencies how that which, through the blood, would formerly have given them the same points of view, now takes different paths; and how, therefore, the conflict then arises, for conflict must arise when the ties of blood also lose their significance as a help for clairvoyant perception; and with this separation begins the later spiritual development.. For those to whom the old blood-ties no longer were of significance, Krishna came as a great teacher. He was to be the teacher of the new age lifted out of the old blood-ties. How he became the teacher we shall describe tomorrow; but it may now be said, as the whole Bhagavad Gita shows us, that Krishna absorbed the three spiritual streams into his teaching and communicated them to his pupil as an organised unity.

How must this pupil appear to us? He looks up on the one side to his father, and on the other side to his father's brother the children of the two brothers are now no longer to be together, they are to separate now a different spiritual stream is to take possession of the one line and the other. Arjuna's soul is filled with the question: how will it be when that which was held together by the ties of blood is no longer there? How can the soul take part in spiritual life if that life no longer flows as it formerly did under the influence of the old blood-tie? It seems to Arjuna as if everything must come to an end. The purport of the great teachings of Krishna, however, is to show that this will not be the case, that it all will be different. Krishna now shows his pupil—who is to live through the time of transition from one epoch to another, that the soul, if it is to become harmonious, must take in something of all these three spiritual streams. We find the Vedistic unity interpreted in the right way in the teachings of Krishna, as well as the principles of the Sankhya teaching and the principles of Yoga. For what is it that actually lies behind all that we are about to learn from the Bhagavad Gita? The revelations of Krishna are somewhat to this effect: There is a creative Cosmic Word, itself containing the creative principle. As the sound produced by man when he speaks undulates and moves and lives through the air, so does the Word surge and weave and live in all things, and create and order all existence. Thus the Veda principle breathes through all things. This can be taken up by human perception into the human soul-life. There is a supreme, weaving Creative-Word, and there is an echo of this supreme, weaving Creative-Word in the Vedistic documents. The Word is the creative principle of the World; in the Vedas it is revealed. That is one part of the Krishna teaching. The human soul is capable of understanding how the Word lives on, in the different forms of existence. Human knowledge learns the laws of existence by grasping how the separate forms of being express, with the regularity of a fixed law, that which is soul and spirit. The teachings about the forms in the world, of the laws which shape existence, of cosmic laws and their manner of working, is the Sankhya philosophy, the other side of the Krishna teaching. Just as Krishna made clear to his pupil that behind all existence is the creative cosmic Word, so also he made clear to him that human knowledge can recognise the separate forms, and therefore can grasp the cosmic laws. The cosmic Word, the cosmic laws as echoed in the Vedas, and in Sankhya, were revealed by Krishna to his pupil. And he also spoke to him about the path that leads the individual pupil to the heights where he can once again share in the knowledge of the cosmic Word. Thus Krishna also spoke of Yoga. Threefold is the teaching of Krishna: it teaches of the Word, of the Law and of reverent devotion to the Spirit.

The Word, the Law, and Devotion are the three streams by means of which the soul can carry out its development.

These three streams will for ever work upon the human soul in some way or another. Have we not just seen that modern Spiritual Science must seek for new expression of these three streams? But the ages differ one from the other, and in many different ways will that which is the threefold comprehension of the World be brought to human souls. Krishna speaks of the Cosmic Word, of the Creative Word, of the fashioning of existence, of the devotional deepening of the soul,—of Yoga. The same trinity meets us again in another form, only in a more concrete, more living way—in a Being who is Himself to be thought of as walking the Earth—the Incarnation of the Divine Creative Word! The Vedas came to mankind in an abstract form. The Divine Logos, of whom the Gospel of St. John speaks is the Living and Creative Word Itself! That which we find in the Sankhya philosophy, as the law to which the cosmic forms are subject, that, historically transposed into the old Hebrew revelation, is what St. Paul calls the Law. The third stream we find in St. Paul as Faith in the risen Christ. That which was Yoga in Krishna, in St. Paul was Faith, only in a more concrete form—Faith, that was to replace the Law. So the trinity, Veda, Sankhya and Yoga were as the redness of the dawn of that which later rose as sun. Veda appears again in the actual Being of Christ Himself now entering in a concrete, living way into historical evolution, not pouring Himself out abstractly into space and the distances of time, but living as a single Individual, as the Living Word. The Law meets us in the Sankhya philosophy, in that which shows us how the material basis, Prakriti, is developed even down to coarse substance. The Law reveals how the world came into existence, and how individual man develops within it. That is expressed in the old Hebrew revelation of the Law, in the dispensation of Moses. Inasmuch as St. Paul, on the one hand, refers to this Law of the old Hebrews, he is referring to the Sankhya philosophy; inasmuch as he refers to faith in the Risen One, he refers to the Sun of which the rosy dawn appeared in Yoga. Thus arises in a, special way that of which we find the first elements in Veda, Sankhya and Yoga. What we find in the Vedas appears in a new but now concrete form as the Living Word by Whom all things were made and without Whom nothing is made that was made, and Who, nevertheless, in the course of time, has become Flesh. Sankhya appears as the historical representation based on Law of how out of the world of the Elohim, emerged the world of phenomena, the world of coarse substances. Yoga transformed itself into that which, according to St. Paul, is expressed in the words; “Not I, but Christ in me,” that is to say when the Christ-force penetrates the soul and absorbs it, man rises to the heights of the divine.

Thus we see how, in a preparatory form, the coherent plan is present in world-history, how the Eastern teaching was a preparation, how it gives in more abstract form, as it were, that which, in a concrete form, we find so marvelously contained in the Pauline Christianity. We shall see that precisely by grasping the connection between the great poem of the Bhagavad Gita and the Epistles of St. Paul, the very deepest mysteries will reveal themselves concerning what we may call the ruling of the spiritual in the collective education of the human race. As something so new must also be felt in the new age, this newer age must extend beyond the time of Greece and must develop understanding for that which lies behind the thousand years immediately before Christ—for that which we find in the Vedas, Sankhya and Yoga. Just as Raphael in his art and Thomas Aquinas in his philosophy had to turn back to Greece, so shall we see how in our time, a conscious balance must be established between that which the present time is trying to acquire and that which lies further back than the Greek age, and stretches back to the depths of oriental antiquity. We can allow these depths of oriental antiquity to flow into our souls if we ponder over these different spiritual streams which are to be found within that wonderfully harmonious unity which Humboldt calls the greatest philosophical poem the Bhagavad Gita.

The Bhagavad Gita, the sublime Song of the Indians, is, as I mentioned yesterday, said by qualified persons to be the most important philosophic poem of humanity, and he who goes deeply into the sublime Gita will consider this expression fully justified. We shall take the opportunity given by these lectures to point out the high artistic merit of the Gita, but, above all, we must realise the importance of this poem by considering what underlies it, the mighty thoughts and wonderful knowledge of the world from which it grew, and for the glorification and spreading, of which it was created. This glance into the fundamental knowledge contained in the Gita is especially important, because it is certain that all the essentials of this poem, especially all relating to thought and knowledge are communicated to us from a pre-Buddhistic stage of knowledge, so that we may say: The spiritual horizon which surrounded the great Buddha, out of which he grew, is characterised in the contents of the Gita. When we allow these to influence us, we gaze into a spiritual condition of old Indian civilisation in the pre-Buddhist age. We have already emphasised that the thought contained in the Gita is a combined out-pouring of three spiritual streams, not only fused into one another, but moving and living within one another, so that they meet us in the Gita as one whole. What we there meet with as a united whole, as a spiritual out-pouring of primeval Indian thought and perception, is a grand and beautiful aspect of knowledge, an immeasurable sum of spiritual knowledge; an amount of spiritual knowledge so vast that the modern man who has not yet studied Spiritual Science cannot help feeling doubts as to such an amount of knowledge and depth of science, having no possible standard with which to compare it. The ordinary modern methods do not assist one to penetrate the depths of know ledge communicated therein; at the most, one can but look upon that here spoken of as a beautiful dream which mankind once dreamt. From a merely modern standpoint one may perhaps admire this dream, but would not acknowledge it as having any scientific value. But those who have already studied Spiritual Science will stand amazed at the depths of the Gita and must admit that in primeval ages the human mind penetrated into knowledge which we can only re-acquire gradually by means of the spiritual organs which we must develop in the course of time. Their admiration is aroused for the primeval insight that existed in those past ages. We can admire it because we ourselves are able to re-discover it in the universe and thereby confirm the truth of it. When we rediscover it and recognise its truth, we then confess how wonderful it really is that in those primeval ages men were able to raise themselves to such spiritual heights! We know, to be sure, that in those old days mankind was specially favoured, in that the remains of the old clairvoyance was still alive in human souls, and that not only through a spiritual meditation attained by using special exercises were men led into the spiritual worlds, but also that the science of those days could itself, in a certain sense, be penetrated by the knowledge and ideas which the remains of the old clairvoyance brought. We must confess that today we recognise, for quite other reasons, the correctness of what is there communicated to us, but we must understand that in those old times delicate distinctions as regards the being of man were arrived at by other means; ingenious conceptions were drawn from that which man was able to know: conceptions clearly outlined, which could be applied to the spiritual as also to external physical reality. So that in many respects, if we simply alter the expressions we use today to suit our different standpoint, we find it possible to understand the former standpoint also.

We have tried, in bringing forward our spiritual knowledge, to present things as they appear to the present day clairvoyant perception; so that our sort of Spiritual Science represents that which the spiritually-minded man can attain today with the means at his command. In the early days of the Theosophical Movement less was done by means of what was drawn straight from occult science than by such methods as were based on the designations and shadowy conceptions used in the East, especially those which, by means of old traditions, have been carried over from the Gita-time in the East into our present day. Hence the older form of theosophical development (to which we have now added our present method of occult investigation) worked more through the old traditionally-received conceptions—especially those of the Sankhya philosophy. But just as this Sankhya philosophy itself was gradually changed in the East, through the alteration in oriental thought, so, at the beginning of the Theosophical Movement the being of man and other secrets were spoken of and these things were specialty described by means of expressions used by Sankaracharya, the great reformer of the Vedantic and other Indian knowledge in the eighth century of the Christian reckoning. We need not devote much attention to the expressions used at the beginning of the Theosophical Movement, but in order to get to the foundations of the knowledge and wisdom of the Gita, we shall devote ourselves today to the old primeval Indian wisdom. What we meet with first, what, so to speak, is drawn from that old wisdom itself, is especially to be found in the Sankhya philosophy.

We shall best obtain an understanding of how Sankhya philosophy looked upon the being and nature of man if, in the first place, we keep clearly before us the fact that there is a spiritual germ in all humanity; we have, always expressed this fact by saying that in the human Soul there are slumbering forces which, in the course of human evolution, will emerge more and more. The highest to which we can at present aspire and to which the human soul can attain, will be what we call Spirit-Man. Even when man, as a being, has risen to the stage of Spirit-Man, he will still have to distinguish between the soul which dwells within him and that which is Spirit-Man itself; just as in everyday life today we have to distinguish between that which is our innermost soul and the sheaths which enclose it; the Astral Body, the Etheric or Life-Body, and the Physical Body. Just as we look upon these bodies as sheaths and distinguish them from the soul itself, which for the present cycle of humanity is divided into three parts: sentient soul, intellectual reasoning soul, and consciousness soul—just as we thus distinguish between the soul-nature and its system of sheaths—so in future stages we shall have to reckon with the actual soul, which will then have its threefold division fitted for those future stages and corresponding to our sentient soul, intellectual soul, and consciousness soul, and the sheath-nature, which will then have reached that stage of man which, in our terminology, we call Spirit-Man. That, however, which will some day become the human sheath, and which will, so to say, enclose the spiritual soul-part of man, the Spirit-Man, will, to be sure, only be of significance to man in the future, but that to which a being will eventually evolve is always there, in the great universe. The substance of Spirit-Man in which we shall some day be ensheathed, has always been in the great universe and is there at the present time. We may say: Other beings have today already sheaths which will some day form our Spirit-Man; thus the substance of which the human Spirit-Man will some day consist exists in the universe. This, which our teaching allows us to state, was already known to the old Sankhya doctrine; and what thus existed in the universe, not yet individualised or differentiated, but flowing like spiritual water, undifferentiated, filling space and time, still exists, and will continue to exist, this, from which all other forms come forth, was known by the Sankhya philosophy as the highest form of substance; that form of substance which has been accepted by Sankhya philosophy as continuing from age to age. And as we speak about the beginning of the evolution of our earth (recollect the course of lectures I once gave in Munich on the foundation of the Story of Creation), as we speak of how at the beginning of our earth-evolution, all to which the earth has now evolved was present in spirit as substantial spiritual being; so did the Sankhya philosophy speak of original substance, of a primordial flood, from which all forms, both physical and super-physical, have developed. To the man of today this highest form has not come into consideration, but the day will come, as we have shown when it will have to be considered.

In the next form which will evolve out of this primeval flowing substance, we have to recognise that which, counting from above, we know as the second principle of man, which we call Life-Spirit: or, if we like to use an Eastern expression, we may call Budhi. Our teaching also tells us that man will only develop Budhi in normal life at a future stage; but as a super-human spiritual form-principle it has always existed among other entities, and, inasmuch as it always existed, it was the first form differentiated from the primeval flowing substance. According to the Sankhya philosophy the super-psychic existence of Budhi arose from the first form of substantial existence. Now if we consider the further evolution of the substantial principle, we meet as a third form that which the Sankhya philosophy calls Ahamkara. Whereas Budhi stands, so to speak, on the borders of the principle of differentiation and merely hints at a certain individualisation, the form of Ahamkara appears as completely differentiated already so that when we speak of Ahamkara we must imagine Budhi as organised into independent, real, substantial forms, which then exist in the world individually. If we want to obtain a picture of this evolution we must imagine an equally distributed mass of water as the substantial primeval principle; then imagine it welling up so that separate forms emerge, but not breaking away as fully formed drops, forms which rise like little mounts of water from the common substance and yet have their basis in the common primeval flow. We should then have Budhi; and inasmuch as these water-mounts detach themselves into drops, into independent globes, in these we have the form of Ahamkara. Through a certain thickening of this Ahamkara, of the already individualised form of each separate soul-form, there then arises what we describe as Manas.

Here we must admit that perhaps a little unevenness arises as regards our naming of things. In considering human evolution from the point of view of our teaching, we place (counting from above) Spirit-Self after Life-spirit or Budhi. This manner of designation is absolutely correct for the present cycle of humanity, and in the course of these lectures we shall see why. We do not insert Ahamkara between Budhi and Manas, but for the purpose of our concept we unite it with Manas and call both together Spirit-Self. In those old days it was quite justifiable to consider them as separate, for a reason which I shall only indicate today and later elaborate. It was justifiable because one could not then use that important characteristic that we must give if we are to make ourselves understood at the present day; the characteristic which comes on the one side from the influence of Lucifer, and on the other from that of Ahriman. This characteristic is absolutely lacking in the Sankhya philosophy, and for a construction that had no occasion to look towards these two principles because it could as yet find no trace of their force, it was quite justifiable to slip in this differentiated form between Budhi and Manas. When we therefore speak of Manas in the sense of the Sankhya philosophy, we are not speaking of quite the same thing as when we speak of it in the sense of Sankaracharya. In the latter we can perfectly identify Manas with Spirit-Self; but we cannot actually do so in the sense of Sankhya philosophy; though we can characterise quite fully what Manas is.

In this case we first start with man in the world of sense, living in the physical world. At first he lives his physical existence in such a way that he realises his surroundings by means of his senses; and through his organs of touch, by means of his hands and feet, by handling, walking, speaking, he reacts on the physical world around him. Man realises the surrounding world by means of his senses and he works upon it, in a physical sense, by means of his organs of touch. Sankhya philosophy is quite in accordance with this. But how does a man realise the surrounding world by means of his senses? Well, with our eyes we see the light and colour, light and dark, we see, too, the shapes of things; with our ears we perceive sounds; with our organ of smell we sense perfumes; with our organs of taste we receive taste-impressions. Each separate sense is a means of realising a particular part of the external world. The organs of sight perceive colours and light; those of hearing, sounds, and so on. We are, as it were, connected with the surrounding world through these doors of our being which we call senses; through them we open ourselves to the surrounding world; but through each separate sense we approach a particular province of that world. Now even our ordinary language shows us that within us we carry something like a principle which holds together these different provinces to which our senses incline. For instance, we talk of warm and cold colours, although we know that this is only a manner of speaking, and that in reality we realise cold and warmth through the organs of touch, and colours, light and darkness through the organs of sight. Thus we speak of warm and cold colours, that is to say, from a certain inner relationship which we feel, we apply what is perceived by the one sense to the others. We express ourselves thus, because in our inner being there is a certain intermingling between what we perceive through our sight and that which we realise as a sense of warmth—more delicately sensitive people, on hearing certain sounds can inwardly realise certain ideas of colour; they can speak of certain notes as representing red, and others blue. Within us, therefore, dwells something which holds the separate senses together, and makes out of the separate sense-fields something complete for the soul. If we are sensitive, we can go yet further. There are people, for instance, who feel, on entering one town, that it gives an impression of yellow another town gives an impression of red, another of white, another of blue. A great deal of that which impresses us inwardly is transformed into a perception of colour; we unite the separate sense-impressions inwardly into one collective sense which does not belong to the department of any one sense alone, but lives in our inner being and fills us with a sense of undividedness whenever we make use of any one sense-impression. We may call this the inner sense; and we may all the more call it so, inasmuch as all that we otherwise experience inwardly as sorrow and joy, emotions and affections, we unite again with that which this inner sense gives us. Certain emotions we may describe as dark and cold, others as warm and full of light. We can therefore say that our inner being reacts again upon what forms the inner sense. Therefore, as opposed to the several senses which we direct to the different provinces of the external world, we can speak of one which fills the soul; one, of which we know that it is not connected with any single sense-organ, but takes our whole being as its instrument. To describe this inner sense as Manas would be quite in harmony with Sankhya philosophy, for, according to this, that which forms this inner sense into substance develops, as a later production of form, out of Ahamkara. We may, therefore, say: First came the primeval flood, then Budhi, then Ahamkara, then Manas, which latter we find within us as our inner sense. If we wish to observe this inner sense, we can do so by taking the separate senses and observing how we can form a concept by the way in which the perceptions of the separate senses are united in the inner sense.

This is the way we take today, because our knowledge is pursuing an inverted path. If we look at the development of our knowledge, we must admit that it starts from the differentiation of the separate senses and then tries to climb up to the conjoint sense. Evolution goes the other way round. During the evolution of the world, Manas first evolved out of Ahamkara and then the primeval substances differentiated themselves, the forces which form the separate senses that we carry within us. (By which we do not mean those material sense-organs which belong to the physical body, but forces which underlie these as formative forces and which are quite super-sensible.) Therefore when we descend the stages of the ladder of the evolution of forms, we come down from Ahamkara to Manas, according to the Sankhya philosophy; then Manas differentiates into separate forms and yields those super-sensible forces which build up our separate senses. We have, therefore, the possibility-because when we consider the separate senses the soul takes a part in them—of bringing what we get out of Sankhya philosophy into line with that which our teaching contains. For Sankhya philosophy tells us the following: In that Manas has differentiated itself into the separate world-forces of the senses, the soul submerges itself—we know that the soul itself is distinct from these forms—the soul immerses itself into these different forms; but inasmuch as it does so, and also submerges itself into Manas, so it works through these sense-forces, is interwoven with and entwined in them. In so doing the soul reaches the point of placing itself as regards its spiritual soul-being in connection with an external world, in order to feel pleasure and sympathy therein. Out of Manas the force-substance has differentiated which constitutes the eye, for instance. At an earlier stage, when the physical body of man did not exist in its present form (thus Sankhya philosophy relates) the soul was immersed in the mere forces that Constitute the eye. We know that the human eye of today was laid down germinally in the old Saturn time, yet only after the withdrawal of the warmth organ, which at the present day is to be found in a stunted form in the pineal gland, did it, develop—that is to say, comparatively late. But the forces out of which it evolved were already there in super-sensible form, and the soul lived within them. Thus Sankhya philosophy relates as follows: in so far as the soul lives in this differentiation principle, it is attached to the existence of the external world and develops a thirst for this existence. Through the forces of the senses the soul is connected with the external world; hence the inclination towards existence, and the longing for it. The soul sends, in a way, feelers out through the sense-organs and through their forces attaches itself to the external world. This combination of forces, a real sum of forces, we unite in the astral body of man. The Sankhya philosopher speaks of the combined working of the separate sense-forces, at this stage differentiated from Manas. Again, out of these sense-forces arise the finer elements, of which we realise that the human etheric body is composed. This is a comparatively late production. We find this etheric body in man.

We must therefore picture to ourselves that, in the course of evolution the following have formed: Primeval Flood, Budhi, Ahamkara, Manas, the substances of the senses, and the finer elements. In the outer world, in the kingdom of nature, these fine elements are also to be found, for instance, in the plants, as etheric or life-body. We have then to imagine, according to Sankhya philosophy, that at the basis of this whole evolution there is to be found, in every plant a development starting from above and going downwards, which comes from the primeval flood. But in the case of the plant all takes place in the super-sensible, and only becomes real in the physical world when it densifies into the finer elements which live in the etheric or life-body of the plant; while with man it is the case that the higher forms and principles already reveal themselves as Manas in his present development; the separate organs of sense reveal themselves externally. In the plant there is only to be found that late production which arises when the sense substance densifies into finer elements, into the etheric elements; and from the further densifying of the etheric elements arise the coarser elements from which spring all the physical things we meet in the physical world. Therefore reckoning upwards we can, according to Sankhya philosophy, count the human principles, as coarse physical body, finer etheric body, astral body (this expression is not used in Sankhya philosophy. Instead of that the formative-force body that builds the senses is used) then Manas in an inner sense, then in Ahamkara the principle which underlies human individuality, which brings it about that man not only has an inner sense through which he can perceive the several regions of the senses, but also feels himself to be a separate being, an individuality. Ahamkara brings this about. Then come the higher principles which in man only exist germinally,—Budhi and that which the rest of Eastern philosophy is accustomed to call Atma, which is cosmically thought of by the Sankhya philosophy as the spiritual primeval flood which we have described. Thus in the Sankhya philosophy we have a complete presentation of the constitution of man, of how man, as soul, envelopes himself in the past, present and future, in the substantial external nature-principle, whereby not only the external visible is to be understood, but all stages of nature, up to the most invisible. Thus does the Sankhya philosophy divide the forms we have now mentioned. In the forms or in Prakriti, which includes all forms from the coarse physical body up to the primeval flood, dwells Purusha, the spirit-soul, which in single souls is represented as monadic; so the separate soul-monads should, so to say, be thought of as without beginning and without end, just as this material principle of Prakriti—which is not material in our materialistic sense—is also represented as being without beginning and without end. This philosophy thus presents a plurality of souls dipping down into the Prakriti principle and evolving from the highest undifferentiated form of the primeval flood in which they enclose themselves, down to the embodiment in a coarse physical body in order, then, to turn back and, after overcoming the physical body, to evolve upwards again; to return back again into the primeval flood, and to free themselves even from this, in order to be able as free souls to withdraw into pure Purusha.

If we allow this sort of knowledge to influence us, we see how, underlying it, so to speak, was that old wisdom which we now endeavour to re-acquire by the means which our soul-meditations can give us; and in accordance with the Sankhya philosophy we see that there is insight even into the manner in which each of these form principles may be united with the soul. The soul may, for instance, be so connected with Budhi that it realises its full independence, as it were, while within Budhi; so that not Budhi, but the soul-nature, makes itself felt in a predominating degree. The opposite may also be the case. The soul may enwrap its independence in a sort of sleep, envelop it in lassitude and idleness, so that the sheath-nature is most prominent. This may also be the case with the external physical nature consisting of coarse substance. Here we only need to observe human beings. There may be a man who preferably cultivates his soul and spirit, so that every movement, every gesture, every look which can be communicated by means of the coarse physical body, are of secondary importance compared to the fact that in him the spiritual and soul-nature are expressed. Before us stands a man—we see him certainly in the coarse, physical body that stands before us—but in his movements, gestures and looks there is something that makes us say: This man is wholly spiritual and psychic, he only uses the physical principle to give expression to this. The physical principle does not overpower him; on the contrary, he is everywhere the conqueror of the physical principle. This condition, in which the soul is master of the external sheath-principle, is the Sattva condition. This Sattva condition may exist in connection with the relation of the soul to Budhi and Manas as well as in that of the soul to the body which consists of fine and coarse elements. For if one says: The soul lives in Sattva, that means nothing but a certain relation of the soul to its envelope, of the spiritual principle of that soul to the nature-principle; the relation of the Purusha-principle to the Prakriti-principle. We may also see a man whose coarse physical body quite dominates him—we are not now speaking of moral characteristics, but of pure characteristics, such as are understood in Sankhya philosophy, and which do not, seen with spiritual eyes, bear any moral characteristic whatever. We may meet a man who, so to speak, walks about under the weight of his physical body, who puts on much flesh, whose whole appearance is influenced by the weight of his physical body, to whom it is difficult to express the soul in his external physical body. When we move the muscles of our face in harmony with the speaking of the soul, the Sattva principle is master; when quantities of fat imprint a special physiognomy to our faces, the soul-principle is then overpowered by the external sheath principle, and the soul bears the relation of Tamas to the nature principle. When there is a balance between these two states, when neither the soul has the mastery as in the Sattva state, nor the external sheath-nature as in the Tamas condition, when both are equally balanced, that may be called the Rajas condition. These are the three Gunas, which are quite specially important. We must, therefore, distinguish the characteristic of the separate forms of Prakriti. From the highest principle of the undifferentiated primeval substance down to the coarse physical body is the one characteristic, the characteristic of the mere sheath principle. From this we must distinguish what belongs to the Sankhya philosophy in order to characterise the relation of the soul nature to the sheaths, regardless of what the form of the sheath may be. This characteristic is given through the three states Sattva, Rajas, Tamas.

We will now bring before our minds the penetrating depths of such a knowledge and realise how deep an insight into the secrets of existence a science must have had, which was able to give such a comprehensive description of all living beings. Then that admiration fills our souls of which we spoke before, and we tell ourselves that it is one of the most wonderful things in the history of the development of man, that that which appears again today in Spiritual Science out of dark spiritual depths should have already existed in those ancient times, when it was obtained by different methods. All this knowledge once existed, my dear friends. We perceive it when we direct the spiritual gaze to certain primeval times. Then let us look at the succeeding ages. We gaze upon what is generally brought to our notice in the spiritual life of the different periods, in the old Greek age, in the age following that, the Roman age, and in the Christian Middle Ages. We turn our gaze from what the older cultures give down to modern times, till we come to the age when Spiritual Science once again brings us something which grew in the primeval knowledge of mankind. When we survey all this we may say: In our time we often lack even the smallest glimmering of that primeval knowledge. Ever more and more a mere knowledge of external material existence is taking the place of the knowledge of that grand sphere of existence and of the super-sensible, all-embracing old perception. It was indeed the purpose of evolution for three thousand years, that in the place of the old primeval perception the external knowledge of the material physical plane should arise. It is interesting to see how upon the material plane alone—I do not want to withhold this remark from you—there still remains, left behind, as it were, in the age of Greek philosophy, something like an echo of the old Sankhya knowledge. We can still find in Aristotle some echoes of real soul-nature; but these in all their perfect clarity can no longer be properly connected with the old Sankhya knowledge. We even find in Aristotle the distribution of the human being within the coarse physical body; he does not exactly mention this, but shapes a distribution in which he believes he gives the soul-part, whereas the Sankhya philosophy knows that this is only the sheaths; we find there the vegetative soul which, in the sense of the Sankhya philosophy would be attributed to the finer elemental body. Aristotle believes himself to be describing something pertaining to the soul; but he only describes connections between the soul and the body, the Gunas, and in what he describes he gives but the form of the sheaths. Then Aristotle ascribes to that which reaches out into the sphere of the senses, and which we call the astral body, something which he distinguishes as being a soul-principle. Thus he no longer clearly distinguishes the soul-part from the bodily, because, to him, the former has already been swamped by the bodily shape; he distinguishes the Asthetikon, and in the soul he further distinguishes the Orektikon, Kinetikon, and the Dianetikon. These, according to Aristotle, are grades of the soul, but we no longer find in him a clear discrimination between the soul-principle and its sheaths; he believes he is giving a classification of the soul, whereas the Sankhya philosophy grasps the soul in its own being as a monad and all the differentiations of the soul are, as it were, at once placed in the sheath-principle, in the Prakriti principle.

Therefore, even Aristotle himself in speaking of the soul part no longer speaks of that primeval knowledge which we discover in the Sankhya philosophy. But in one domain, the domain of the material, Aristotle still has something to relate which is like a surviving echo of the principle of the three conditions; that is, when he speaks of light and darkness in colours. He says: There are some colours which have more darkness in them and others which have more light, and there are colours between these. According to Aristotle, in the colours ranging between blue and violet the darkness predominates over light. Thus a colour is blue or violet because darkness predominates over light, and it is green or greenish-yellow when light and darkness counterbalance each other, while a colour is reddish or orange when the light-principle overrules the dark. In Sankhya philosophy we have this principle of the three conditions for the whole compass of the world-phenomena; there we have Sattva when the spiritual predominates over the natural. Aristotle still has this same characteristic, in speaking of colours. He does not use these words: but one may say: Red and reddish-yellow represent the Sattva condition of light. This manner of expression is no longer to be found in Aristotle, but the principle of the old Sankhya philosophy is still to be found in him; green represents the Rajas condition as regards light and darkness, and blue and violet, in which darkness predominates, represent the Tamas-condition of light and darkness. Even though Aristotle does not make use of these expressions, the train of thought can still be traced which arises from that spiritual grasp of the world conditions which we meet with in the Sankhya philosophy. In the colour teaching of Aristotle we have therefore an echo of the old Sankhya philosophy. But even this echo was lost, and we first experience a glimmering of these three conditions, Sattva, Rajas, Tamas, in the external domain of the world of colour, in the hard struggle carried on by Goethe. For after the old Aristotelian division of the colour-world into a Sattva, Rajas and Tamas condition, had been entirely buried, so to say, it then reappears in Goethe. At the present time it is still abused by modern physicists, but the colour-system of Goethe is produced from principles of spiritual wisdom. The physicist of today is right from his own standpoint when he does not agree with Goethe over this, but he only proves that in this respect physics has been abandoned by all the good Gods! That is the case with the physics of today, which is why it grumbles at Goethe's colour teaching.

If one wished today really to combine science with occult principles, one would, however, be obliged to support the colour theory of Goethe. For in that we find again, in the very centre of our scientific culture, the principle which once upon a time reigned as the spiritual principle of the Sankhya philosophy. You can understand, my dear friends, why many years ago I set myself the task of bringing Goethe's colour theory again into notice as a physical science, resting, however, upon occult principles; for one may quite relevantly say that Goethe so divides the colour phenomena that he represents them according to the three states of Sattva, Rajas, Tamas. So gradually, there emerges into the new spiritual history discovered by the modern methods, that which mankind attained to once upon a time by quite other means. The Sankhya philosophy is pre-Buddhistic, as the legend of Buddha brings very clearly before our eyes; for it relates, and rightly, the Indian doctrine that Kapila was the founder of the Sankhya philosophy. Buddha was born in the dwelling place of Kapila, in Kapila Vastu, whereby it is indicated that Buddha grew up under the Sankhya teaching. Even by his very birth he was placed where once worked the one who first gathered together this great Sankhya philosophy. We have to picture to ourselves this Sankhya doctrine in its relation to the other spiritual currents of which we have spoken, not as many Orientalists of the present day represent it, nor as does the Jesuit, Joseph Dahlmann; but that in different parts of ancient India there lived men who were differentiated, for at the time when these three spiritual currents were developing, the very first primeval state of human evolution was no longer there. For instance, in the North Eastern part of India human nature was such that it inclined to the conceptions given in the Sankhya philosophy; more towards the West, human nature was of that kind that it inclined to conceive of the world according to the Veda doctrine. The different spiritual “nuances” come, therefore, from, the differently gifted human nature in the different parts of India; and only because of the Vedantists later on having worked on further and made many things familiar, do we find in the Vedas at the present time much of Sankhya philosophy bound up with them. Yoga, the third spiritual current, arose as we have often pointed out, because the old clairvoyance had gradually diminished, and one had to seek new ways to the spiritual worlds. Yoga is distinguished from Sankhya in that the latter is a real science, a science of external forms, which really only grasps these forms and the different relations of the human soul to these forms. Yoga shows how souls can develop so as to reach the spiritual worlds.

And if we ask ourselves what an Indian soul was to do, who, at a comparatively later time wanted to develop, though not in a one-sided way, who did not wish to advance by the mere consideration of external form, but wanted to uplift the soul-nature itself, so as to evolve again that which was originally given as by a gracious illumination in the Vedas—to this we find the answer in what Krishna gave to his pupil Arjuna in the sublime Gita. Such a soul would have to go through a development which might be expressed in the following words: “Yes, it is true thou seest the world in its external forms, and if thou art permeated with the knowledge of Sankhya thou wilt see how these forms have developed out of the primeval flow: but thou canst also see how one form changes into another. Thy vision can follow the arising and the disappearing of forms, thine eyes see their birth and their death. But if thou considerest thoroughly how one form replaces another, how form after form arises and vanishes, thou art led to consider what is expressed in all these forms; a thorough inquiry will lead thee to the spiritual principle which expresses itself in all these forms; sometimes more according to the Sattva condition, at other times more after the forms of the other Gunas, but which again liberates itself from these forms. A thorough consideration such as this will direct thee to something permanent, which, as compared to form, is everlasting. The material principle is indeed also permanent, it remains; but the forms which thou seest, arise and fade away again, pass through birth and death; but the element of the soul and spirit nature remains. Direct thy glance to that! But in order that thou shouldst thyself experience this psychic-spiritual element within thee and around thee and feel it one with thyself, thou must develop the slumbering forces in thy soul, thou must yield thyself to Yoga, which begins with devotional looking upwards to the psychic-spiritual element of being, and which, by the use of certain exercises, leads to the development of these slumbering forces, so that the pupil rises from one stage to another by means of Yoga.” Devotional reverence for the psychic-spiritual is the other way which leads the soul itself forwards; it leads to that which lives as unity in the spiritual element behind the changing forms which the Veda once upon a time announced through grace and illumination, and which the soul will again find through Yoga as that which is to be looked for behind all the changing forms. “Therefore go thou,” thus might a great teacher have said to his pupil, “go thou through the knowledge of the Sankhya philosophy, of forms, of the Gunas, through the study of the Sattva, Rajas and Tamas, through the forms from the highest down to the coarsest substance, go through these, making use of thy reason, and admit that there must be something permanent, something that is uniting, and then wilt thou penetrate to the Eternal. Thou canst also start in thy soul through devotion; then thou wilt push on through Yoga from stage to stage, and wilt reach the spiritual which is at the base of all forms. Thou canst approach the spiritual from two different sides; by a thoughtful contemplation of the world, or by Yoga; both will lead thee to that which the great teacher of the Vedas describes as the Unitary Atma-Brahma, that lives as well in the outer world as in the inmost part of the soul, that which as Unity is the basis of the world. Thou wilt attain to that on the one hand by dwelling on the Sankhya philosophy, and on the other by going through Yoga in a devotional frame of mind.”

Thus we look back upon those old times, in which, so to speak, clairvoyant force was still united with human nature through the blood, as I have shown in my book, The Occult Significance of Blood. But mankind gradually advanced in its evolution, from that principle which was bound up in the blood to that which consisted of the psychic-spiritual. In order that the connection with the psychic-spiritual should not be lost, which was so easily attained in the old times of the blood-relationship of family stock and peoples, new methods had to be found, new ways of teaching, during the period of transition from blood-relationship to that period in which it no longer held sway. The sublime song of the Bhagavad Gita leads us to this time of transition. It relates how the descendants of the royal brothers of the lines of Kuru and Pandu fought together. On the one side we look up to a time which was already past when the story of the Gita begins, a time in which the Old-Indian perception still existed and men still went on living in accordance with that. We can perceive, so to say, the one line which arose out of the old times being carried over into the new, in the blind King Dritarashtra of the house of Kuru; and we see him in conversation with his chariot-driver. He stands by the fighters of one side; on the other side are those who are related to him by blood but who are fighting because they are in a state of transition from the old times to the new. These are the sons of Pandu; and the charioteer tells his King (who is characteristically described as blind, because it is not the spiritual that shall descend from this root but the physical), the charioteer relates to his blind King what is happening over there among the sons of Pandu, to whom is to pass all that is more of a psychic and spiritual nature for the generations yet to come. He relates how Arjuna, the representative of the fighters, is instructed by the great Krishna, the Teacher of mankind; he relates how Krishna taught his pupil, Arjuna, about all that of which we have just been speaking, of what man can attain if he uses Sankhya and Yoga, if he develops thinking and devotion in order to press on to that which the great teachers of mankind of former days have described in the Vedas. And we are told in glorious language, as philosophical as it is poetical, of the instructions given through Krishna, through the Great Teacher of the humanity of the new ages which have emerged from the blood-relationship. Thus we find something else shining from those old times across to our own. In that consideration which is the basis of the pamphlet, The Occult Significance of Blood, and many similar ones, I have indicated how the evolution of mankind after the time of blood-relationship took on other differentiations, and how the striving of the soul has thus become different too. In the sublime song of the Bhagavad Gita we are led directly to this transition; we are so led that we see by the instructions given to Arjuna by Krishna, how man, to whom no longer belongs the old clairvoyance dependent upon the blood-relationship, must press on to what is eternal. In this teaching we encounter that which we have often spoken of as an important transition in the evolution of mankind, and the Sublime Song becomes to us an illustration of that which we arrived at by a separate study of the subject.

What attracts us particularly to the Bhagavad Gita is the clear and emphatic way in which the path of man is spoken of, the path man has to tread from the temporary to the permanent. There at first Arjuna stands before us, full of trouble in his soul; we can hear that in the tale of the charioteer (for all that is related comes from the mouth of the charioteer of the blind King). Arjuna stands before us with his trouble-laden soul, he sees himself fighting against the Kurus, his blood-relations, and he says now to himself: “Must I then fight against those who are linked to me by blood, those who are the sons of my father's brothers? There are many heroes among us who must turn their weapons against their own relations, and on the opposite side there are just as honourable heroes, who must direct their weapons against us.” He was sore troubled in his soul “Can I win this battle? Ought I to win, ought one brother to raise his sword against another?” Then Krishna comes to him, the Great Teacher Krishna, and says: “First of all, give thoughtful consideration to human life and consider the case in which thou thyself now art. In the bodies of those against whom thou art to fight and who belong to the Kuru-line, that is to say, in temporal forms, there live soul-beings who are eternal, they only express themselves in these forms. In those who are thy fellow-combatants dwell eternal souls, who only express themselves through the forms of the external world. You will have to fight, for thus your laws ordain; it is ordained by the working laws of the external evolution of mankind. You will have to fight, thus it is ordained by the moment which indicates the passing from one period to another. But shouldst thou mourn on that account, because one form fights against another, One changing form struggles with another changing form? Whichsoever of these forms are to lead the others into death—what is death? and what is life? The changing of the forms is death, and it is life. The souls that are to be victorious are similar to those who are now about to go to their death. What is this victory, what is this death, compared to that to which a thoughtful consideration of Sankhya leads thee, compared to the eternal souls, opposing one another yet remaining themselves undisturbed by all battles?” In magnificent manner out of the situation itself, we are shown that Arjuna must not allow himself to be disturbed by soul-trouble in his innermost being, but must do his duty which now calls him to battle; he must look beyond the transitory which is entangled in the battle to the eternal which lives on, whether as conqueror or as conquered. And so in a unique way is the great note struck in the sublime song, in the Bhagavad Gita; the great note concerning an important event in the evolution of man kind, the note of the transitory and of the everlasting.

Not by abstract thought, but by allowing the perception of what is contained in this to influence us, shall we find ourselves upon the right path. For we are on the right path when we so look upon the instructions of Krishna as to see that he is trying to raise the soul of Arjuna from the stage at which it stands, in which it is entangled in the net of the transitory. Krishna tries to raise it to a higher stage, in which it will feel itself uplifted beyond all that is transitory, even when that comes directly to the soul in such distressing manner as in victory or defeat, as giving death or suffering it. We can truly see the proof of that which some one once said about this Eastern philosophy, as it presents itself to us in the sublime poem of the Bhagavad Gita: “This Eastern philosophy is so absolutely part of the religion of those old times that he who belonged to it, however great and wise he might be, was not without the deepest religious fervour, whilst the simplest man, who only lived the religion of feeling, was not without a certain amount of wisdom.” We feel this, when see we how the great teacher, Krishna, not only influences the ideas of his pupil, but works directly into his disposition, so that he appears to us as contemplating the transitory and the troubles belonging to the transitory; and in such a significant situation we see his soul rising to a height from which it soars far beyond all that is transitory, beyond all the troubles, pain and sorrows of the transitory.