The Rudolf Steiner Archive

What I especially tried to stress yesterday was that in that spiritual development of the West which found its expression in scholasticism not only that happens which one can grasp in abstractions and which took place in a development of abstractions, but that behind it a real development of the impulses of western humanity exists. I think that one can look at that at first, as one does mostly in the history of philosophy, which one finds with the single philosophers. One can pursue, how the ideas, which one finds with a personality of the sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth centuries, are continued by personalities of the tenth, eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth centuries, and one can get the impression by such a consideration that one thinker took over certain ideas from the other and that a certain evolution of ideas is there.

One has to leave this historical consideration of the spiritual life gradually. Since that which manifests from the single human souls are only symptoms of deeper events which are behind the scene of the outer processes. These events which happened already a few centuries before Christianity was founded until the time of scholasticism is a quite organic process in the development of western humanity. Without looking at this process, it is equally impossible to get information about that development, we say from the twelfth until the twentieth years of a human being unless one considers the important impact in this age that is associated with sexual maturity and all forces that work their way up from the subsoil of the human being. Thus, something works its way up from the depths of this big organism of European humanity that one can just characterise saying: those old poets spoke very honestly and sincerely who began their epic poems as Homer did: sing to me, goddess, on the rage of the Peleid Achilles—, or: sing to me, muse, on the actions of the widely wandered man.—These men wanted to say no commonplace phrase, they felt as inner fact of their consciousness that not a single individual ego wants to express itself there but a higher spiritual-mental that intervenes in the usual state of human consciousness.

Again—I said it already yesterday—Klopstock was sincere and figured this fact out in a way, even if maybe only instinctively, when he began his Messiah; now not: sing, muse, or: sing, goddess, on the redemption of the human beings -, but he said: sing, immortal soul -, that means: sing, individual being that lives in the single person as an individuality.—When Klopstock wrote his Messiah, this individual feeling had already advanced far in the single souls. However, this inner desire to stress individuality originated especially in the age of the foundation of Christianity until High Scholasticism. In that which the philosophers thought one can notice the uppermost, which goes up to the extreme surface of that which takes place in the depths of humanity: the individualisation of the European consciousness. An essential moment of the propagation of Christianity in these centuries is the fact that the missionaries had to speak to people who more and more strove for feeling the inner individuality.

Only from this viewpoint, you can understand the conflicts that took place in the souls of such human beings who wanted to deal with Christianity on one side and with philosophy on the other side as Albert the Great and Thomas Aquinas did. Today the common histories of philosophy describe the soul conflicts too little, which found their end in Albert and Thomas. There many things intervened in the soul life of Albert and Thomas.

Seen from without it seems, as if Albert the Great who lived from the twelfth to the thirteenth century and Thomas who lived in the thirteenth century wanted to combine Augustinism and Aristotelianism only dialectically on one side. The one of them was the bearer of the ecclesiastical ideas; the other was the bearer of the cultivated philosophical ideas. You can pursue their searching for the harmony of both views everywhere in their writings. Nevertheless, in everything that is fixed there in thoughts endlessly much lives that did not pass to that age which extends from the middle of the fifteenth century until our days, and from which we take our common ideas for all sciences and also for the whole public life.

It appears to the modern human, actually, only as something paradox: the fact that Augustine really thought that a part of the human beings is destined from the start to receive the divine grace without merit—for they all would have to perish because of the original sin—and to be saved mental-spiritually. The other part of humanity must perish mental-spiritually, whatever it undertakes.—For the modern human being this seems paradox, maybe even pointless. Someone who can empathise in the age of Augustine in which he received those ideas and sensations that I have characterised yesterday will feel different. He will feel that one can understand that Augustine wanted still to adhere to the ideas that not yet cared about the single person that just cared about the general-human influenced by such ideas as those of Plotinism. However, on the other side, the drive for individuality stirred in the soul of Augustine. Hence, these ideas get such a succinct form, hence, they are fulfilled with human experience, and thereby just Augustine makes such a deep impression if we look back at the centuries, which preceded scholasticism.

Beyond Augustine that remained for many human beings what the single human being of the West as a Christian held together with his church—but only in the ideas of Augustine. However, these ideas were just not suitable for the western humanity that did not endure the idea to take the whole humanity as a whole and to feel in it like a member, which probably belongs to that part of humanity, which is doomed. Hence, the church needed a way out.

Augustine still combated Pelagius (~360-418) intensely, that man who was completely penetrated with the impulse of individuality. He was a contemporary of Augustine; individualism appears in him as usually only the human beings of the later centuries had it. Hence, he could not but say, it can be no talk that the human being must remain quite passive in his destiny in the sensory world. From the human individuality even the power has to originate by which the soul finds the connection to that which raises it from the chains of sensuousness to the pure spiritual regions where it can find its redemption and return to freedom and immortality.—The opponents of Augustine asserted that the single human being must find the power to overcome the original sin.

The church stood between both opponents, and it looked for a way out. This way out was often discussed. One talked as it were back and forth, and one decided for the middle. I would like to leave it to you whether it is the golden mean. This middle was the Semipelagianism. One found a formula which announced: indeed, it is in such a way as Augustine said, but, nevertheless, it is not completely in such a way as Augustine said; it is also not completely in such a way as Pelagius said, but it is in a certain sense in such a way as he said. Thus, one can say that, indeed, not by God's everlasting wise decision the ones are destined to sin, the others to grace; but the matter would be in such a way that, indeed, there is no divine predetermination but a divine foreknowledge. God knows in advance whether the one is a sinner or the other is someone who is filled with grace.

Besides, we do not take into account when this dogma was spread that it did not at all concern foreknowledge, but that it concerned taking plainly position whether now the single individual human being can combine with the forces in his individual soul life which can cancel his separation from the divine-spiritual being. Thus, the question remains unsolved for dogmatism, and I would like to say, Albert and Thomas were on one side forced to look at the contents of the dogmas of the church, on the other side, however, they were fulfilled with the deepest admiration of the greatness of Augustine. They faced that what was western spiritual development within the Christian current. Nevertheless, still something played a role from former times. It lived on in such a way that one sees it being active on the bottom of their souls, but one also realises that they are not quite aware of it that it has impact in their thoughts that they cannot bring it, however, to an exact version.

One must consider this more for this time of High Scholasticism of Albert and Thomas than one would have to consider a similar phenomenon, for example, in our time. I have already emphasised the why and wherefore in my Worldviews and Approaches to Life in the Nineteenth Century. I would only like to note that this book was extended to The Riddles of Philosophy where the concerning passage could not return because the task of the book had changed. We experience that from this struggle of individuality the thinkers who developed this struggle of individuality philosophically reach the zenith of the logical faculty of judgement.

One may rail against scholasticism from this or that party viewpoint—all this railing is fulfilled with little expertise as a rule. Since someone who has sense for the way in which the astuteness of thoughts comes about with something that is explained scientifically or different, who has sense to recognise how connections are intellectually combined which must be combined intellectually if life should get sense—who has sense for all that and for some other things already recognises that so exactly, so conscientiously logically one never thought before and after High Scholasticism. Just these are the essentials that the pure thinking proceeds with mathematical security from idea to idea, from judgement to judgement, from conclusion to conclusion in such a way that these thinkers always account to themselves for the smallest step.

One has only to mind that this thinking took place in a silent monastic cell or far from the activities of the world. This thinking could still develop the pure technique of thinking by other circumstances. Today it is difficult to develop this pure thinking. Since if one tries anyhow to present such activity to the general public which wants nothing but to string together thoughts, then the biased people, the illogical people come who take up all sorts of things and allege their crude biased opinions. Because one is just a human being among human beings, one has to deal with these things that often are not at all concerned with that which it concerns, actually. One loses that inner quietness very soon to which thinkers of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries could dedicate themselves who did not think much of the contradiction of unprepared people in their social life.

This and still some other things caused that wonderful sculptural, on one side, but also in fine contours proceeding activity of thinking which is characteristic for scholasticism and at which Albert and Thomas aimed exceptionally consciously.

However, please remember that there are demands of life, on one side, which appear as dogmas which were similarly ambiguous in numerous cases as the characterised Semipelagianism, and that one wanted to maintain the dogmas of the church with the most astute thinking. Imagine only what it means to consider Augustinism just with the most astute thinking. One has to look into the inside of the scholastic striving and not only to characterise the course from the Fathers of the Church to the scholastics along the concepts that one has picked up.

Just many semi-conscious things had impact on these spirits of High Scholasticism. You cope with it only if you look beyond that what I have characterised already yesterday and if you still envisage such a figure that entered mysteriously under the name of Dionysius the Areopagite into the European spiritual life from the sixth century on. Today I cannot defer to all disputes about whether his writings were written in the sixth century or whether the other view is right that at least leads back the traditional of these writings to much earlier periods. All that does not matter, but that is the point that the thinkers of the seventh, eighth centuries and still those like Thomas Aquinas studied the views of Dionysius the Areopagite, and that these writings contained that in a special form which I have characterised yesterday as Plotinism, but absolutely with a Christian nuance. That became significant for the Christian thinkers up to High Scholasticism how the writer of Dionysius' writings related to the ascent of the human soul to a view of the divine.

One asserts normally that Dionysius had two ways to the divine. Yes, he did have two. One way is that he asks, if the human being wants to ascend from the outside things to the divine, he must find out the essentials of all things which are there, he has to try to go back to the most perfect ones, he must be able to name the most perfect so that he has contents for this most perfect divine which can now pour itself out again as it were and create the single things of the world from itself by individuation and differentiation.—Hence, one would like to say, God is that being to Dionysius that one has to call with many names that one has to give as most distinguishing predicates which one can find out of all perfections of the world. Take any perfection that strikes you in the things of the world, and then call God with it, then you get an idea of God.—This is one way that Dionysius suggests.

He says about the other way, you never reach God if you even give him one single name because your endeavour to find the perfections in the things, the essentials of the things, to summarise them to characterise God with. You have to free yourself from everything that you have recognised in the things. You have to purify your consciousness completely from everything that you have found out in the things. You must know nothing of that which the world says to you. You must forget all names that you have given the things and you have to put yourself in a soul condition where you know nothing of the whole world. If you can experience this, you experience the unnamed one who is misjudged immediately if you give him any name; then you recognise God, the super-God in his super-beautifulness. However, already these names would interfere. They can serve only to make you aware of that which you have to experience as unnamed.

How does one cope with a personality who gives not one theology but two theologies, a positive one and a negative one, a rationalistic and a mystic theology? Someone who can just project his thoughts in the spirituality of the periods from which Christianity is born can cope with it quite well. If one describes, however, the course of human development during the first Christian centuries in such a way as modern materialists do, then the writings of the Areopagite appear more or less folly. Then one simply rejects them as a rule. If you can project your thoughts, however, in that which one experienced and felt at that time, then you understand what a person like the Areopagite only wanted to express, actually, at which countless human beings aimed. For them God was a being that one could not recognise at all if one took one way to Him only. For the Areopagite God was a being that one had to approach on rational way by naming and name finding. However, if you go this way only, you lose the path, and then you lose yourself in cosmic space void of God. Then you do not find your way to God. Nevertheless, one must take this way, for without taking this way you cannot reach God. However, one has still to take a second way. This is just that which aims at the unnamed. However, if you take one way only, you find God just as little; if you take both, they cross, and you find God at the crossing point. It is not enough to argue whether one way or the other way is right. Both together are right; but every single one leads to nothing. One has to take both ways and the human soul finds that at the crossing point at which it aimed.

I can understand that some people of the present shrink from that what the Areopagite demands here. However, this lived with the persons who were the spiritual leaders during the first Christian centuries, then it lived on traditionally in the Christian-philosophical current of the West, and it lived up to Albert the Great and Thomas Aquinas. It lived, for example, in that personality whose name I have called already yesterday, in Scotus Eriugena. As I have told yesterday, Vinzenz Knauer and Franz Brentano who were usually meek flew into a rage if Plotinus came up for discussion. Those who are more or less, even if astute and witty, rationalists will already rail if they come in contact with that which originated from the Areopagite, and whose last significant manifestation Eriugena was.

A legend tells that Eriugena was a Benedictine prior in England in his last years. However, his own monks stabbed him repeatedly with their styluses—I do not say that it is literally true, but if it is not quite true, it is approximately true—until he was dead because he had still brought Plotinism into the ninth century.

However, his ideas that further developed at the same time survived him. His writings had disappeared more or less; nevertheless, they were delivered to posterity. In the twelfth century, one considered Scotus Eriugena as a heretic. However, this did yet not have such a meaning as later and today. Nevertheless, the ideas of Scotus Erigena deeply influenced Albert the Great and Thomas Aquinas.

We realise this heritage of former times on the bottom of the souls, if we want to speak of the nature of Thomism. Something else is considered. In Plotinism, you can realise a very significant feature that arose from a sensory-extrasensory vision of the human being. One gets great respect for these things, actually, when one finds them spiritual-scientifically again. There one would like to confess the following. There one says, if one reads anything unpreparedly like Plotinus or that which is delivered from him, then it appears quite chaotic. However, if one discovers the corresponding truths again, these views take on a different complexion even if they were pronounced different at that time. Thus, you can find a view with Plotinus that I would like to characterise possibly in the following way.

Plotinus looks at the human being with his bodily-mental-spiritual peculiarities from two viewpoints at first. He looks at them first from the viewpoint of the work of the soul on the body. If I wanted to speak in modern way, I would have to say the following. Plotinus says to himself at first, if one looks at a child growing up, then one realises that that still is developed which develops from spiritual-mental as a human body.

For Plotinus is everything that appears material in particular in the human being—please be not irked by the expression—an exudate of the spiritual-mental, a crust of the spiritual-mental as it were. We can interpret everything bodily as a crust of the spiritual-mental. However, when the human being has grown up to a certain degree, the spiritual-mental forces stop working on the bodily.

One could say, at first, we have to deal with such an activity of the spiritual-mental in the bodily that this bodily is organised from the spiritual-mental. The spiritual-mental works out the human organisation. If anything in the organic activity attains a certain level of maturity, we say, for example, for that activity to which the forces are used which appear later as the forces of memory, just these forces which have once worked on the body appear in a spiritual-mental metamorphosis. What has worked first materially from the spiritual-mental, gets free from it if it is ready with its work, and appears as an independent being, as a soul mirror if one wants to speak in the sense of Plotinus.

It is exceptionally difficult to characterise these things with our concepts. One comes close to them if one imagines the following. The human being can remember from a certain level of maturity of his memory. He is not able to do this as a little child. Where are the forces with which he remembers? They develop the organism at first. After they have worked on the organism, they emancipate themselves and still work on the organism as something spiritual-mental. Then only the real core, the ego lives again in this soul mirror. In an exceptionally pictorial way this double work of the soul, this division of the soul into an active part which builds up, actually, the body and into a passive part is portrayed by that ancient worldview. It found its last expression in Plotinus and devolved then upon Augustine and his successors.

We find this view in a rationalised form, in more physical concepts with Aristotle. However, Aristotle had this view from Plato and from that on which Plato rested. If you read Aristotle, it is in such a way, as if you have to say, Aristotle himself strives for conceptualising all old views abstractly. Thus, we recognise in the Aristotelian system that also continued the rationalistic form of that which Plotinus gave in another form, we recognise a rationalised mysticism in Aristotelianism continued until Albert and Thomas Aquinas, a rationalistic portrayal of the spiritual secret of the human being.

Albert and Thomas knew that Aristotle had brought down that by abstractions what the others had in visions. Therefore, they do not at all face Aristotle in such a way as modern philosophers and philologists do who quarrel over two concepts that come from Aristotle. However, because the Aristotelian writings have not come completely to posterity, one finds these concepts or ideas without being related to each other. Aristotle considered the human being as a unity that encloses the vegetative, lower principle and the higher principle, the nous,—the scholastics call it intellectus agens. However, Aristotle distinguishes the nous poietikos and the nous pathetikos, an active and a passive human mind. What does he mean with them?

You do not understand what he means if you do not go back to the origin of these concepts. Even like the other soul forces these two kinds of mind are active in the construction of the human soul: the mind, in so far as it is still active in the construction of the human being which does not stop, however, like the memory once and emancipates itself as memory but is active the whole life through. It is the nous poietikos. This builds up and individualises the body from the universe for itself in the sense of Aristotle. It is the same as the soul constructing the human body of Plotinus. That what emancipates itself then what is destined only to take up the outer world and to process the impressions of the outer world dialectically is the nous pathetikos, the intellectus possibilis. What faces us as astute dialectic, as exact logic in scholasticism goes back to these old traditions. You do not cope with that what happened in the souls of the scholastics if you do not take into consideration this impact of ancient traditions.

Because all that had an impact on the scholastics, the big question arose to them that one normally regards as the real problem of scholasticism. In that time when humanity had still a vision that produced such things like Platonism or its rationalistic filtrate, Aristotelianism, in which, however, still the individual feeling had not reached the climax, the scholastic problems were not yet there. Since that which we call intellect and which has its origin in the scholastic terminology on one side is just an outflow of the individual human being. If we all think in the same way, it is only because we all are organised equally individually and that the mind is attached to the individual that is the same in all human beings. They think different, as far as they are differentiated. However, these nuances have nothing to do with real logic. However, the real logical and dialectic thinking is an outflow of the general human but individually differentiated organisation.

Thus, the human being stands there as an individuality and says to himself, in me the thoughts emerge by which the outside world is represented internally; there the thoughts which should give a picture of the world are arranged from the inside. There, on one side, work mental pictures inside of the human being that are attached to single individual things, like to a single wolf or to a single human being, we say to Augustine. Then, however, the human being gets to other inner experiences, like to his dreams for which he does not find such an outer representative at first. There he gets to those experiences, which he forms for himself, which are chimaeras as already the centaur was a chimaera to scholasticism.

Then, however, are on the other side those concepts and ideas that shimmer, actually, to both sides: the humanity, the type or genus of lion, the type or genus of wolf, and so on. The scholastics called these general concepts universals (universalia). When the human beings still rose to these universals in such a way as I have described it yesterday, they felt them as the lowest border of the spiritual world. To experience in such a way, it was not yet necessary to have that individual feeling which prevailed then during the later centuries. With individualised feeling, one said to himself, you rise from the sensory things up to that border where the more or less abstract, but experienced things are, the universals humanity, lion, wolf and so on.

Scholasticism understood this very well that one could not say just like that, these are only summaries of the outer world, but this became a problem for it with which it struggled. We have to develop such general concepts, such universal concepts from our individuality. If we look out, however, at the world, we do not have the humanity, but single human beings, not the type wolf, but single wolves. However, on the other side, we cannot regard that what we study as the wolf type or the lamb type, the material that is contained in these summaries as the only real. We cannot accept this just like that, because then we would have to suppose that a wolf becomes a lamb if one feeds it with lambs only long enough. Matter does not do it; the wolf remains wolf. Nevertheless, the wolf type is something that one cannot only equate with the material just like that.

Today it is often a problem, which people do not at all take seriously. Scholasticism struggled intensely with this problem, just in its period of bloom. This problem was directly connected with the ecclesiastical interests. We can get an idea of it if we take into consideration the following.

Before Albert the Great and Thomas Aquinas appeared with their special elaboration of philosophy, already some people had appeared like Roscelin (R. of Compiègne, ~1050-1120, French theologian and philosopher), for example, who asserted and were absolutely of the opinion that these general concepts, these universalia were nothing but that what we summarise from the outer individual things. They are, actually, mere words, mere names.—This nominalism regarded the general things, the universalia, only as words. However, Roscelin was dogmatically serious about nominalism, applied it to the Trinity, and said, if—what he considered right—this summary is only a word, the Trinity is only a word, and the individuals are the only real: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Then the human mind summarises this three: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit with a name only.—Medieval spirits expanded such things to the last consequences. The church was compelled to declare this view of Roscelin a partial polytheism and the doctrine heretic on the synod of Soissons (1092). So one was in a certain calamity compared with nominalism. A dogmatic interest united with a philosophical one.

In contrast to today, one felt it as something very real in that time, and just with the relationship of the universalia to the individual things Thomas and Albertus struggled spiritually; it is the most important problem for them. Everything else is only a result as far as everything else got a certain nuance by the way how they positioned themselves to this problem. However, just in how Albertus and Thomas positioned themselves to this problem, all forces are involved which had remained as tradition of the Areopagite, of Plotinus, Augustine, Eriugena and many others. One still knew that there were human beings who beheld beyond the concepts into the spiritual world, into the intellectual world, in that world about which also Thomas speaks as about a reality in which he realises the intellectual beings free of matter that he calls angels. These are not mere abstractions but real beings that have no bodies only. Thomas placed these beings into the tenth sphere. While he imagines the earth circled by the sphere of the moon, then of Mercury, Venus, and sun and so on, he comes via the eighth and the ninth spheres to the Empyrean, to the tenth sphere. He imagines all that absolutely interspersed with intelligences, and the intelligences to which he refers back at first send down what they have as their lowest border as it were in such a way that the human soul can experience it. However, in such a way as I have pronounced it now, in this form which is more based on Plotinism it does not appear from the mere individual feeling to which just scholasticism had brought itself, but it remained belief for Albert and Thomas that there is the manifestation of these abstractions above these abstractions. For them, the question originated, which reality do these abstractions have?

Albert and Thomas still had an idea of the work of the mental-spiritual on the bodily and its subsequent mirroring if it has worked enough on the bodily. They had images of all that. They had images also of that which the human being becomes in his single individual life what he takes up as impressions of the outside world and processes it with them. Thus, the idea developed that we have the world round ourselves, but this world is a manifestation of the spiritual. While we look at the world, while we see the single minerals, plants, and animals, we suspect that that is behind them, which manifests from higher spiritual worlds.

If we consider the realms of nature with logical decomposition and with the greatest possible mental capacity, we get to that which the spiritual world has put into the realms of nature. Then, however, we have to understand the fact that we are in contact with the world by our senses. Then we turn away from the world. We keep that as memory, which we have taken up from the world. We look back remembering. There only the universal like “humanity” appears to us in its inner conceptual figure. So that Albert and Thomas say, if you look back if your soul reflects that to you, which it has experienced in the outside world, then the universalia live in your soul. Then you have universalia. You develop from all human beings whom you have met the concept of humanity. You could live generally only in earthly names if you remembered individual things only. While you do not at all live only in earthly names, you must experience universalia. There you have universalia post res, universals that live after the things in the soul. While the human being turns his soul to the things, he does not have the same in his soul what he has after if he remembers it, but he is related to the things. He experiences the spiritual in the things; he translates it to himself only into the form of the universalia post res.

While Albert and Thomas suppose that the human being is related to something real when he is related to his surroundings by his intellectual capacity, so not only to that what the wolf is because the eye sees it, the ear hears it and so on, but because the human being can think about it, the type “wolf” develops. He experiences something that he grasps intellectually abstractly in the things that is also not completely absorbed in the sensory entities. He experiences the universalia in rebus, the universals in the things.

One cannot distinguish this easily because one normally thinks that that which one has in his soul at last as a reflection is also the same in the things. No, it is not the same in the sense of Thomas Aquinas. What the human being experiences as an idea in his soul and explains with his mind to himself is that by which he experiences the real, the universal. So that the form of the universals after the things is different from that of the universals in the things, which then remain in the soul; but internally they are the same.

There you have one of the scholastic concepts whose clearness one normally does not consider. The universals in the things and the universals after the things in the soul are as regards content the same, different only after their form.

Then, however, something else is added. That which lives in the things individualised points to the intellectual world again. The contents are the same, which are in the things and after the things in the human soul, but they have different form. Again in other form, but with the same contents: are the universalia ante res, the universals before the things. These are the universals as they are included in the divine mind and in the mind of the divine servants, the angels.

Thus, the immediate spiritual-sensory-extrasensory view of ancient time changes into the views which were illustrated only just with sensory pictures because one cannot even name that which one beholds in extrasensory way after the Areopagite if one wants to deal with it in its true figure. One can only point to it and say, it is not all that which the outer things are. - Thus, that which presented itself as reality in the spiritual world to the ancient people becomes something for scholasticism about which just that astuteness of thinking has to decide. One had brought down the problem that was once solved by beholding into the sphere of thinking, of the ratio. This is the nature of the view of Thomas and Albert, of High Scholasticism. It realises above all that in its time the feeling of the human individuality culminates. It realises all problems in their rational logical figure.

The scholastic thinking struggles with this figure of the world problems. With this struggle and thinking, scholasticism stands in the middle of the ecclesiastical life. On the one side, is that of which one could believe in the thirteenth, in the twelfth centuries that one has to gain it with the thinking, with the astute logic; on the other side were the traditional ecclesiastical dogmas, the religious contents.

Let us take an example how Thomas Aquinas bears a relation to both things. There he asks, can anyone prove the existence of God by logic? Yes, one can do it.—He gives a range of proofs. One of them is, for example, that he says, we can only gain knowledge at first, while we approach the universalia in rebus and look into the things. We cannot penetrate by beholding—this is a simply personal experience of this age—into the spiritual world. We can thereby only penetrate with human forces into the spiritual world that we become engrossed in the things, get out the universalia in rebus. Then one is able to conclude what is about these universalia ante res before, he says. We see the world moved; a thing always moves the other because it itself is moved. Thus, we come from one moved thing to another moved thing, from this to another moved thing. This cannot go on endlessly, but we must come to the prime mover. If he were moved, however, we would have to look for another prime mover. We must come to an unmoved prime mover.—With it, Thomas just reached—and Albert concluded in the same way—the Aristotelian unmoved mover, the first cause. The logic thinking is able to acknowledge God as an inevitably first being as the inevitably unmoved prime mover.

No such line of thought leads to Trinity. However, it is traditional. One can reach with the human thinking only so far that one tries whether the Trinity is preposterous. There one finds: It is not preposterous, but one cannot prove It, one must believe It, one must accept It as contents up to which human intellectuality cannot rise.

Thus, scholasticism faces the so important question at that time, how far can one reach with the human intellect? However, by the development of time it was placed still in quite special way in this problem, because other thinkers preceded. They had accepted something apparently quite absurd. They had said, something could be theologically true and philosophically wrong. One can say flatly, it can absolutely be that things were handed down dogmatically, as for example the Trinity; if one contemplates then about the same question, one comes to the contrary result. It is possible that the intellect leads to other results than the religious contents.—This the other problem that the scholastics faced: the doctrine of double truth. Both thinkers Albert and Thomas made a point harmonising the religious contents and the intellectual contents, searching no contradiction between that what the intellect can think, indeed, only up to a certain limit, and the religious contents. However, what the intellect can think must not be contradictory to the religious contents; the religious contents must not be contradictory to the intellect.

This was radical in those days because the majority of the leading church authorities adhered to the doctrine of double truth: that—on one side—the human being must simply think something reasonable, as regards content in one figure, and the religious contents can give him it in another figure. He has to live with these two figures of truth.—I believe that one could get a feeling for historical development if one thought that people were with all their soul forces in such problems few centuries ago. Since these things still echo in our times. We still live in these problems. Tomorrow we want to discuss how we live in these problems. Today I wanted to characterise the nature of Thomism generally in such a way as it lived at that time.

The main problem to Albert and Thomas was how do the intellectual contents of the human being relate to the religious contents? First, how can one understand what the church specifies as faith, secondly how can one defend it against that which is opposite to it? Albert and Thomas were very much concerned with it. Since in Europe that did not live exclusively which I have characterised, but there were still other views. With the propagation of Islam, other views still asserted themselves in Europe. Something of Manichaean views had remained in Europe.

However, there was also the doctrine of Averroes (Ibn Rushed, 1126-1198, Andalusian polymath) who said there, what the human being thinks with his pure intellect does not belong to him especially; it belongs to the whole humanity.—Averroes says, we do not have the intellect for ourselves; we have a body for ourselves, but not everybody has an intellect for himself. The person A has an own body, but his intellect is the same as that of person B and again as that of person C.—One could say, to Averroes a uniform intelligence of humanity exists, in which all individuals submerge. They live with their heads in it as it were. When they die, the body withdraws from this universal intelligence. Immortality does not exist in the sense of an everlasting individual existence after death. What lasts there is only the universal intelligence, is only that which is common to all human beings.

Thomas had to count on this universality of the intellect. However, he had to position himself on the viewpoint that the universal intellect not only combines intimately with the individual memory in the single human being, but that that which during life combines also with the bodily forces form a whole that all formative, vegetative and animal forces, as the forces of memory are attracted by the universal intellect. Thomas imagines that the human being attracts the universal and then draws that into the spiritual world, which his universal has attracted so that he brings it into the spiritual world. Hence, to Thomas and Albert not pre-existence but post-existence can be as Aristotle had assumed. In this respect, these thinkers continue Aristotelianism, too.

Thus, the big logical questions of the universals combine with the questions that concern the world destiny of the single human beings. In the end, the general logic nature of Thomism had an impact on all that—even if I wanted to characterise the cosmology of Thomas and the enormous natural history of Albert. This logical nature consisted of the following: we can penetrate everything with keen logic and dialectic up to a certain border, and then we must penetrate into the religious contents. Thus, both thinkers faced these two things without being contradictory: what we grasp with our intellect and what is revealed by the religious contents can exist side by side.

What was, actually, the nature of Thomism in history? For Thomas it is typical and important to prove God, while he strains the intellect and at the same time, he has to concede that one comes to an idea of God as one had it as Jahveh rightly in the Old Testament.—That is, he gets to that uniform God whom the Old Testament called the Jahveh God. If one wants to get to Christ, one has to pass over to the religious contents; one cannot get to it with that which the human soul experiences as its own spiritual.

Something deeper was in the views of double truth against which High Scholasticism simply had to oppose out of the spirit of time, that one could not survey, however, in the age in which one was surrounded everywhere by the pursuit of rationalism, of logic. The following fact was behind it: those who spoke of double truth did not take the view that that which theology reveals and that which the intellect can reach are two different things, but are two truths provisionally, and that the human being gets to them because he took part in the Fall of Man to the core of his soul.

This question lives as it were in the depths of the souls until Albert and Thomas: did we not take up the original sin also in our thinking? Does the intellect lead us to believe other truth contents than the real truth because the intellect has defected from spirituality?—If we take up Christ in our intellect, if we take up something in our intellect that transforms this intellect, then only it consorts with the truth, with the religious contents. The thinkers before Thomas wanted to take the doctrine of the original sin and the doctrine of the redemption seriously. They did not yet have the power of thought, the logicality for that, but they wanted to make this seriously. They presented the question to themselves: how does Christ redeem the truth of the intellect that is contradictory to the spiritually revealed truth in us? How do we become Christians to the core? Since the original sin lives in our intellect, hence, the intellect is contradictory to the pure religious truth.

Then Albert and Thomas appeared and supposed that it is wrong that we indulge in sinfulness of the world if we delve purely logically into the universalia in rebus if we take up that which is real in the things. The usual intellect must not be sinful. The question of Christology is contained in this question of High Scholasticism. High Scholasticism could not solve the problem: how can the human thinking be Christianised? How does Christ lead the human thinking to the sphere where it can grow together with the spiritual religious contents?

This question shook the souls of the scholastics. Hence, it is,—although the most perfect logical technique prevails in scholasticism—above all important that one does not take the results of scholasticism, but that one looks through the answer at the big questions which were put at that time. One had not yet advanced so far with Christology that one could pursue the redemption from the original sin up to the human thinking. Hence, Albert and Thomas had to deny the intellect the right to cross the steps over which it can enter into the spiritual world. High Scholasticism left behind the question: how does the human thinking evolve into a view of the spiritual world?

Even the most important result of High Scholasticism is a question: how does one bring Christology into thinking? How is thinking Christianised?—Up to his death in 1274, Thomas Aquinas could bring himself to this question. One could answer it only suggestively in such a way that one said, the human being penetrates into the spiritual nature of the things to a certain degree. However, then the religious contents have to come. Both must not be contradictory to each other; they must be in concordance with each other. However, the usual intellect cannot understand the contents of the highest things on its own accord, as for example, Trinity, the incarnation of Christ in the person Jesus and so on. The intellect can understand only so far that it can say, the world may have originated in time, but it may also exist from eternity. However, the revelation says, it originated in time. If you ask the intellect once again, you find the reasons, why the origin in time is more reasonable.

More than one believes, that lives still in modern science, in the whole public life, which was left of scholasticism, indeed, in a special figure. Tomorrow we want to speak about how alive scholasticism is still in us and which view the modern human being has to take of that which has survived as scholasticism.

Yesterday at the end of the considerations about High Scholasticism, I attempted to point out that the most essential of a current of thought are problems that made themselves known in a particular way in the human being. They culminated in a certain yearning to understand: how does the human being attain that knowledge which is necessary for life, and how does this knowledge fit into that which controlled the minds in those days in social respect, how the knowledge does fit into the religious contents of the western church?

The scholastics were concerned with the human individuality at first who was no longer able to carry up the intellectual life to concrete spiritual contents, as it still shone from that which had remained from Neo-Platonism, from the Areopagite and Scotus Eriugena. I have also already pointed to the fact that the impulses of High Scholasticism lived on in a way. However, they lived on in such a way that one may say, the problems themselves are big and immense, and the way in which one put them had a lasting effect. These should be just the contents of the today's consideration—the biggest problem, the relationship of the human being to the sensory and the spiritual realities, still continues to have an effect even if in quite changed methodical form and even if one does not note it, even if it has apparently taken on a quite different form. All that is still in the intellectual activities of the present, but substantially transformed by that which significant personalities have contributed to the European development in the philosophical area in the meantime.

We also realise if we consider the Franciscan Monk Duns Scotus (~1266-1308) who taught in the beginning of the fourteenth century in Paris, later in Cologne, that as it were the problem becomes too big even for the excellent intellectual technique of scholasticism.

Duns Scotus feels confronted with the question: how does the human soul live in the human-body? Thomas Aquinas still imagined that the soul worked on the totality of the bodily. So that the human being is only equipped indeed, if he enters into the physical-sensory existence, by the physical-bodily heredity with the vegetative forces, with the mineral forces and with the forces of sensory perceptivity that, however, without pre-existence the real intellect integrates into the human being which Aristotle called nous poietikos. This nous poietikos now soaks up as it were the whole mental—the vegetative mental, the animal mental—and intersperses the corporeality only to transform it in its sense in order to live on then immortal with that which it has obtained—after it had entered into the human body from eternal heights but without pre-existence—from this human body.

Duns Scotus cannot imagine that the active intellect soaks up the entire human system of forces. He can only imagine that the human corporeality is something finished that in a certain independent way the vegetative and animal principles remain the entire life through, then it is taken off at death and that only the actually spiritual principle, the intellectus agens, goes over to immortality. Scotus cannot imagine like Thomas Aquinas that the whole body is interspersed with soul and spirit because to him the human mind had become something abstract, something that did no longer represent the spiritual world to him but that seemed to him to be gained only from consideration, from sense perception. He could no longer imagine that only in the universals, in the ideas that would be given which would prove reality. He became addicted to nominalism—as later his follower Ockham (William of O., ~1288-1347) did—to the view that ideas, as general concepts in the human being are only conceived from the sensory environment that it is, actually, only something that lives as names, as words in the human mind, I would like to say, for the sake of comfortable subsumption of existence. Briefly, he returned to nominalism.

This is a significant fact, because one realises that nominalism, as it appeared, for example, with Roscelin of Compiègne—to whom even the Trinity disintegrated because of his nominalism-, is only interrupted by the intensive work of thought of Albert the Great and Thomas Aquinas and some others. Then the European humanity falls again back into nominalism which is incapable to grasp that which it has as ideas as spiritual reality, as something that lives in the human being and in a way in the things. The ideas become from realities straight away again names, mere empty abstractions.

One realises which difficulties the European thinking had more and more if it put the question of knowledge. Since we human beings have to get knowledge from ideas—at least in the beginning of cognition. The big question has to arise repeatedly: how do the ideas provide reality? However, there is no possibility of an answer if the ideas appear only as names without reality. The ideas that were the last manifestations of a real spiritual world coming down from above to the ancient initiated Greeks became more and more abstract. We realise this process of abstracting, of equating the ideas with words increasing more and more if we pursue the development of western thinking.

Single personalities outstand later, as for example Leibniz (Gottfried Wilhelm L., 1646-1716) who does not get involved in the question, how does one recognise by ideas, because he is quite traditionally still in the possession of a certain spiritual view and leads everything back to individual monads which are actually spiritual. Leibniz towers above the others, while he still has the courage to imagine the world as spiritual. Yes, the world is spiritual to him; it consists of nothing but spiritual beings. However, I would like to say what was to former times differentiated spiritual individualities are to Leibniz more or less gradually differentiated spiritual points, monads. The spiritual individuality is confirmed, but it is confirmed only in the form of the monad, in the form of a spiritual punctiform being.

If we disregard Leibniz, we see, indeed, a strong struggle for certainty of the primal grounds of existence, but the incapacity everywhere at the same time to solve the nominalism problem. This becomes obvious with the thinker who is put rightly at the starting point of modern philosophy, Descartes (1596-1650) who lived in the beginning or in the first half of the seventeenth century. Everywhere in the history of philosophy one gets to know the real cornerstone of his philosophy with the proposition: cogito ergo sum, I think, therefore, I am.—One can note something of Augustine's pursuit in this proposition. Since Augustine struggles from that doubt of which I have spoken in the first talk, while he says to himself, I can doubt everything, but, the fact of doubting exists, and, nevertheless, I live, while I doubt. I can doubt that sensory things are round me, I can doubt that God exists that clouds are there that stars are there, but if I doubt, the doubt is there. I cannot doubt that which goes forward in my own soul. One can grasp a sure starting point there.—Descartes resumes this thought, I think, therefore, I am.

Of course, with such things you expose yourself to serious misunderstandings if you are compelled to put something simple against something historically respected. It is still necessary. Descartes and many of his successors have in mind: if I have mental contents in my consciousness if I think, then one cannot deny the fact that I think; therefore, I am, therefore, my being is confirmed with my thinking. I am rooted as it were in the world being, while I have confirmed my being with my thinking.

The modern philosophy begins with it as intellectualism, as rationalism that completely wants to work from the thinking and is in this respect only the echo of scholasticism. One realises two things with Descartes. First, one has to make a simple objection to him: do I understand my being because I think? Every night sleep proves the opposite.—This is just that simple objection which one has to make: we know every morning when we wake, we have existed from the evening up to the morning, but we have not thought. Thus, the proposition, I think, therefore, I am, is simply disproved. One has to make this simple objection, which is like the egg of Columbus, to a respected proposition that has found many supporters.

However, the second question is, at which does Descartes aim philosophically? He aims no longer at vision, he aims no longer at receiving a world secret for the consciousness, and he is oriented in intellectualistic way. He asks, how do I attain certainty? How do I come out of doubt? How do I find out that things exist and that I myself exist?—It is no longer a material question, a question of the content-related result of world observation; it is a question of confirming knowledge.

This question arises from the nominalism of the scholastics, which only Albert and Thomas had overcome for some time, which reappears after them straight away. Thus, that presents itself to the people which they have in their souls and to which they can attribute a name only to find a point somewhere in the soul from which they can get no worldview but the certainty that not everything is illusion, that they look at the world and look at something real, that they look into the soul and look at reality.

In all that one can clearly perceive that to which I have pointed yesterday at the end, namely that the human individuality got to intellectualism, but did not yet feel the Christ problem in intellectualism. The Christ problem possibly appears to Augustine, while he still looks at the whole humanity. Christ dawns, I would like to say, in the Christian mystics of the Middle Ages; but He does not dawn with those who wanted to find Him with thinking only which is so necessary to the developing individuality, or with that which would arise to this thinking. This thinking appears in its original state in such a way that it emerges from the human soul that it rejects that which should just be the Christian or the core of the human being. It rejects the inner metamorphosis; it refuses to position itself to the cognitive life so that one would say to himself, yes, I think, I think about the world and myself at first. However, this thinking is not yet developed. This is the thinking after the Fall of Man. It has to tower above itself. It has to change; it has to raise itself into a higher sphere.

Actually, this necessity appeared only once clearly in a thinker, in Spinoza (Benedictus Baruch S., 1632-1677), the successor of Descartes. With good reason, Spinoza made a deep impression on persons like Herder and Goethe. Since Spinoza understands this intellectualism in such a way that the human being gets finally to truth—which exists for Spinoza in a kind of intuition, while he changes the intellectual, does not stop at that which is there in the everyday life and in the usual scientific life. Spinoza just says to himself, by the development of thinking this thinking fills up again with spiritual contents.—We got to know in Plotinism, the spiritual world arises again to the thinking as it were if this thinking strives for the spirit. The spirit fulfils as intuition our thinking again.

It is very interesting that just Spinoza says, we survey the world existence as it advances in spirit in its highest substance while we take up this spirit in the soul, while we rise with our thinking to intuition, while we are so intellectualistic on one side that we prove as one proves mathematically, but develop in proving at the same time and rise, so that the spirit can meet us.—

If we rise in such a way, we also understand from this viewpoint the historical development of that what is contained in the development of humanity. It is strange to find the following sentence with a Jew, Spinoza, the highest revelation of the divine substance is given in Christ.—In Christ the intuition has become theophany, the incarnation of God, hence, Christ's voice is God's voice and the way of salvation.—The Jew Spinoza thinks that the human being can develop from his intellectualism in such a way that the spirit is coming up to meet him. If he can then turn to the Mystery of Golgotha, the fulfilment with spirit becomes not only intuition, that is appearance of the spirit by thinking, but it changes intuition into theophany, into the appearance of God himself. The human being faces God spiritually. One would like to say, Spinoza did not withhold that what he had suddenly realised, because this quotation proves that. It fulfils like a mood what he found out from the development of humanity this way; it fulfils his Ethics.

Again, it devolves upon a receptive person. Therefore, one can realise that for somebody like Goethe who could read most certainly between the lines of the Ethics this book became principal. Nevertheless, these things do not want to be considered only in the abstract as one does normally in the history of philosophy; they want to be considered from the human viewpoint, and one must already look at that which shines from Spinozism into Goethe's soul. However, that which shines there only between the lines of Spinoza is something that did not become time dominating in the end but the incapacity to get beyond nominalism.

Nominalism develops at first in such a way that one would like to say, the human being becomes more and more entangled in the thought: I live in something that cannot grasp the outside world, in something that is not able to go out from me to delve into the outside world and to take up something of the nature of the outside world.—That is why this mood that one is so alone in himself that one cannot get beyond himself and does not receive anything from the outside world appears already with Locke (John L., 1612-1704) in the seventeenth century. He says, what we perceive as colours, as tones in the outside world is no longer anything that leads us to the reality of the outside world; it is only the effect of the outside world on our senses, it is something with which we are entangled also in our own subjectivity.—This is one side of the matter.

The other side of the matter is that with such spirits like Francis Bacon (1561-1626) nominalism becomes a quite pervasive worldview in the sixteenth, seventeenth centuries. For he says, one has to do away with the superstition that one considers that as reality which is only a name. There is reality only if we look out at the sensory world. The senses only deliver realities in the empiric knowledge.—Beside these realities, those realities do no longer play a scientific role for whose sake Albert and Thomas had designed their epistemology. The spiritual world had vanished to Bacon and changed into something that cannot emerge with scientific certainty from the inside of the human being. Only religious contents become that what is a spiritual world, which one should not touch with knowledge. Against it, one should attain knowledge only from outer observation and experiments.

That continues this way up to Hume (David H., 1711-1776) in the eighteenth century to whom even the coherence of cause and effect is something that exists only in the human subjectivity that the human being adds only to the things habitually. One realises that nominalism, the heritage of scholasticism, presses like a nightmare on the human beings.

The most important sign of this development is that scholasticism with its astuteness stands there that it originates in a time when that which is accessible to the intellect should be separated from the truths of a spiritual world. The scholastic had the task on one side to look at the truths of a spiritual world, which the religious contents deliver of course, the revelation contents of the church. On the other side, he had to look at that which can arise by own strength from human knowledge. The viewpoint of the scholastics missed changing that border which the time evolution would simply have necessitated. When Thomas and Albert had to develop their philosophy, there was still no scientific worldview. Galilei, Giordano Bruno, Copernicus, and Kepler had not yet worked; the intellectual view of the human being at the outer nature did not yet exist. There one did not have to deal with that which the human intellect can find from the depths of his soul, and which one gains from the outer sensory world. There one had to deal with that only which one has to find with the intellect from the depths of the soul in relation to the spiritual truths that the church had delivered, as they faced the human beings who could no longer rise by inner spiritual development to the real wisdoms who, however, realised them in the figure that the church had delivered, just simply as tradition, as contents of the scriptures and so on.

Does there not arise the question: how do the intellectual contents relate—that which Albert and Thomas had developed as epistemology—to the contents of the scientific worldview? One would like to say, this is an unconscious struggle up to the nineteenth century. There we realise something very strange. We look back at the thirteenth century and see Albert and Thomas teaching humanity about the borders of intellectual knowledge compared with faith, with the contents of revelation. They show one by one: the contents of revelation are there, but they arise only up to a certain part of the human intellectual knowledge, they remain beyond this intellectual knowledge, there remains a world riddle to this knowledge.—We can enumerate these world riddles: the incarnation, the existence of the spirit in the sacrament of the altar and so on—they are beyond the border of human cognition. For Albert and Thomas it is in such a way that the human being is on the one side, the border of knowledge surrounds him as it were and he cannot behold into the spiritual world. This arises to the thirteenth century.

Now we look at the nineteenth century. There we see a strange fact, too: during the seventies, at a famous meeting of naturalists in Leipzig, Emil Du Bois-Reymond (1818-1896) holds his impressive speech On the Borders of the Knowledge of Nature and shortly after about the Seven World Riddles. What has become there the question? (Steiner draws.) There is the human being, there is the border of knowledge; however, the material world is beyond this border, there are the atoms, there is that about which Du Bois-Reymond says, one does not know that which haunts as matter in space.—On this side of the border is that which develops in the human soul.

Even if—compared to the imposing work of scholasticism—it is a trifle which faces us there, nevertheless, it is the true counterpart: there the question of the riddles of the spiritual world, here the question of the riddles of the material world; here the border between the human being and the atoms, there the border between the human being and the angels and God. We have to look into this period if we want to recognise what scholasticism entailed. There Kant's philosophy emerges, influenced by Hume, which influences the philosophers even today. After Kant's philosophy had taken a backseat, the German philosophers took the slogan in the sixties, back to Kant! Since that time an incalculable Kant literature was published, also numerous independent Kantian thinkers like Johannes Volkelt (1848-1930) and Hermann Cohen (1842-1918) appeared.

Of course, we can characterise Kant only sketchily today. We want only to point to the essentials. I believe that someone who studies Kant really can understand him in such a way, as I tried to understand him in my booklet Truth and Science. Kant faces no question of the contents of the worldview with might and main in the end of the sixties and in the beginning of the seventies years of the eighteenth century, not anything that would have appeared in certain figures, pictures, concepts, ideas of the things with him, but he faces the formal question of knowledge: how do we get certainty of something in the outside world, of any existence in the outside world?—The question of certainty of knowledge torments Kant more than any contents of knowledge. I mean, one should even feel this if one deals with Kant's Critique that these are not the contents of knowledge, but that Kant strives for a principle of the certainty of knowledge. Nevertheless, read the Critique of Pure Reason, the Critique of Practical Reason, and realise—after the classical chapter about space and time—how he deals with the categories, one would like to say how he enumerates them purely pedantically in order to get a certain completeness. Really, the Critique of Pure Reason does not proceed in such a way, as with somebody who writes from sentence to sentence with lifeblood.

To Kant the question is more important how the concepts relate to an outer reality than the contents of knowledge themselves. He pieces the contents together, so to speak, from everything that is delivered to him philosophically. He schematises, he systematises. However, everywhere the question appears, how does one get to such certainty, as it exists in mathematics? He gets to such certainty in a way which is strictly speaking nothing but a transformed and on top of that exceptionally concealed and disguised nominalism, which he expands also to the sensory forms, to space and time except the ideas, the universals. He says, that which we develop in our soul as contents of knowledge does not deal at all with something that we get out of the things. We put it on the things. We get out the whole form of our knowledge from ourselves. If we say, A is connected with B after the principle of causation, this principle of causation is only in us. We put it on A and B, on both contents of experience. We bring the causality into the things.

With other words, as paradox this sounds, nevertheless, one has to say of these paradoxes, Kant searches a principle of certainty while he generally denies that we take the contents of our knowledge from the things, and states that we take them from ourselves and put them into the things. That is in other words, and this is just the paradox: we have truth because we ourselves make it; we have truth in the subject because we ourselves produce it. We bring truth only into the things.

There you have the last consequence of nominalism. Scholasticism struggled with the universals, with the question: how does that live outdoors in the world what we take up in the ideas? It could not really solve the problem that would have become provisionally completely satisfactory. Kant says, well, the ideas are mere names, nomina. We form them only in ourselves, but we put them as names on the things; thereby they become reality. They may not be reality for long, but while I confront the things, I put the nomina into experience and make them realities, because experience must be in such a way as I dictate it with the nomina.

Kantianism is in a way the extreme point of nominalism, in a way the extreme decline of western philosophy, the complete bankruptcy of the human being concerning his pursuit of truth, the desperation of getting truth anyhow from the things. Hence, the dictates: truth can only exist if we bring it into the things. Kant destroyed any objectivity, any possibility of the human being to submerge in the reality of the things. Kant destroyed any possible knowledge, any possible pursuit of truth, because truth cannot exist if it is created only in the subject.

This is a consequence of scholasticism because it could not come into the other side where the other border arose which it had to overcome. Because the scientific age emerged and scholasticism did not carry out the volte-face to natural sciences, Kantianism appeared which took subjectivity as starting point and gave rise to the so-called postulates freedom, immortality, and the idea of God. We shall do the good, fulfil the categorical imperative, and then we must be able to do it. That is we must be free, but we are not able to do it, while we live here in the physical body. We reach perfection only, so that we can completely carry out the categorical imperative if we are beyond the body. That is why immortality must exist. However, we cannot yet realise that as human beings. A deity has to integrate that which is the contents of our action in the world—if we take pains of that what we have to do. That is why a deity must exist.

Three religious postulates about which one cannot know how they are rooted in reality are that which Kant saved after his own remark: I had to remove knowledge to get place for faith.—Kant does not get place for religious contents in the sense of Thomas Aquinas, for traditional religious contents, but for abstract religious contents that just originate in the individual human being who dictates truth, that is appearance.

With it, Kant becomes the executor of nominalism. He becomes the philosopher who denies the human being everything that this human being could have to submerge in any reality. Hence, Fichte, Schelling, and then Hegel immediately reacted against Kant. Thus, Fichte wanted to get everything that Kant had determined as an illusory world or as a world of appearances from the real creative ego that he imagined, however, to be rooted in the being of the world. Fichte was urged to strive for a more intensive, to a more and more mystic experience of the soul to get beyond Kantianism. He could not believe at all that Kant meant that which is included in his Critiques. In the beginning, with a certain philosophical naivety he believed that he drew the last consequence of Kant's philosophy. If one did not draw these last consequences, Fichte thought, one would have to believe that the strangest chance would have pieced this philosophy together but not a humanely thinking head.

All that is beyond that which approaches with the emerging natural sciences that appear like a reaction just in the middle of the nineteenth century that strictly speaking understand nothing of philosophy, which degenerated, hence, with many thinkers into crass materialism. Thus, we realise how philosophy develops in the last third of the nineteenth century. We see this philosophical pursuit completely arriving at nullity, and then we realise how—from everything possible that one attaches to Kantianism and the like—one attempts to understand the essentials of the world. The Goethean worldview which would have been so significant if one had grasped it, got completely lost, actually, as a worldview of the nineteenth century, with the exception of those spirits who followed Schelling, Hegel and Fichte. Since in this Goethean worldview the beginning of that is contained which must originate from Thomism, only with the volte-face to natural sciences.

Thomas could state only in the abstract that the mental-spiritual really works into the last activities of the human organs. In abstract form, Thomas Aquinas expressed that everything that lives in the human body is directed by the mental and must be recognised by the mental. Goethe started with the volte-face and made the first ground with his Theory of Colours, which people do not at all understand, and with his “morphology.” However, the complete fulfilment of Goetheanism is given only if one has spiritual science that clarifies the scientific facts by its own efforts.

Some weeks ago, I tried here to explain how our spiritual science could be a corrective of natural sciences, we say, concerning the function of the heart. The mechanical-materialist view considers the heart as a pump that pushes the blood through the human body. However, it is quite the contrary. The blood circulation is something living—embryology can prove that precisely -, and it is set in motion by the internally moved blood. The heart takes the blood activity into the entire human individuality. The activity of the heart is a result of the blood activity, not vice versa. Thus, one can show concerning the single organs of the body how the comprehension of the human being as a spiritual being only explains his material existence. One can do something real in a way that Thomism had in mind in abstract form that said there, the spiritual-mental penetrates everything bodily. This becomes concrete knowledge. The Thomistic philosophy lives on as spiritual science in our present.

I would like to insert a personal experience here. When I spoke in the Viennese Goethe Association about the topic Goethe as Father of a New Aesthetics, there was a very sophisticated Cistercian among the listeners. I explained how one has to imagine Goethe's idea of art, and this Cistercian, Father Wilhelm Neumann (1837-1919), professor at the theological faculty of the Vienna University, said something strange, you can find the origins of your talk already with Thomas Aquinas.—Nevertheless, it was interesting to me to hear from him who was well versed in Thomism that he felt that in Thomism is a kind of origin of that which I had said about the consequence of the Goethean worldview concerning aesthetics.

One has already to say, the things, considered according to truth, appear absolutely different than they present themselves to the history of philosophy under the influence of an unconscious nominalistic worldview which goes back largely to Kant and the modern physiology. Thus, you would find many a thing if you referred to spiritual science. Read in my book The Riddles of the Soul which appeared some years ago how I tried there to divide the human being on the basis of thirty-year studies into three systems; how one system of the human physical body is associated with sense-perception and thinking, how the rhythmical system, breathing and heart activity, is associated with feeling, how metabolism is associated with the will. Everywhere I attempted to find the spiritual-mental in its creating in the physical. That is, I took the volte-face to natural sciences seriously. One tries to penetrate into the area of natural existence after the age of natural sciences, as before the age of scholasticism—we have realised it with the Areopagite and with Plotinus—one penetrated from the human knowledge into the spiritual area. One takes the Christ principle seriously as one would have taken the Christ principle seriously if one had said, the human thinking can change, so that it can penetrate if it casts off the original sin of the limits of knowledge and if it rises up by thinking free of sensuousness to the spiritual world—after the volte-face. What manifests as nature can be penetrated as the veil of physical existence. One penetrates beyond the limits of knowledge which a dualism assumed, as well as the scholastics drew the line at the other side. One penetrates into this material world and discovers that it is, actually, the spiritual one that behind the veil of nature no material atoms are in truth but spiritual beings.

This shows how one thinks progressively about a further development of Thomism. Look for the most important psychological thoughts of Albert and Thomas in their abstractness. However, they did not penetrate into the human-bodily, so that they said how the mind or the soul work on the organs, but they already pointed to the fact that one has to imagine the whole human body as the result of the spiritual-mental.

The continuation of this thought is the work to pursue the spiritual-mental down to the details of the bodily. Neither philosophy nor natural sciences do this, only spiritual science will do it, which does not shy away from applying the great thoughts like those of High Scholasticism to the views of nature of our time. However, for that an engagement with Kantianism was inevitable if the thing should scientifically persist.

I tried this engagement with Kantianism first in my writings Truth and Science and Epistemology of Goethe's Worldview and, in the end, in my Philosophy of Freedom. Only quite briefly, I would like to defer to the basic idea of these books.

These writings take their starting point from the fact that one cannot directly find truth in the world of sense perception. One realises in a way in which nominalism takes hold in the human soul how it can accept the wrong consequence of Kantianism, but how Kant did not realise that which was taken seriously in these books. This is that a consideration of the world of perception leads—if one does it quite objectively and thoroughly—to the conclusion: the world of perception is not a whole, it is something that we make a reality.

In what way did the difficulty of nominalism originate? Where did the whole Kantianism originate? Because one takes the world of perception, and then the soul life puts the world of ideas upon it. Now one has the view, as if this world of ideas should depict the outer perception. However, the world of ideas is inside. What does this inner world of ideas deal with that which is there outdoors? Kant could answer this question only, while he said, so we just put the world of perception on the world of ideas, so we get truth.

The thing is not in such a way. The thing is that—if we look at perception impartially—it is not complete, everywhere it is not concluded. I tried to prove this strictly at first in my book Truth and Science, then in my book Philosophy of Freedom. The perception is everywhere in such a way that it appears as something incomplete. While we are born in the world, we split the world. The thing is that we have the world contents here (Steiner draws). While we place ourselves as human beings in the world, we separate the world contents into a world of perception that appears to us from the outside and into the world of ideas that appears to us inside of our soul. Someone who regards this separation as an absolute one who simply says, there is the world, there I am cannot get over with his world of ideas to the world of perception. However, the case is this: I look at the world of perception; everywhere it is not complete in itself, something is absent everywhere. However, I myself have come with my whole being from the world to which also the world of perception belongs. There I look into myself: what I see by myself is just that which the world of perception does not have. I have to unite that which separated in two parts by my own existence. I create reality.

Because I am born, appearance comes into being while that which is one separates into perception and the world of ideas. Because I live, I bring together two currents of reality. In my cognitive experience, I work the way up into reality. I would never have got to a consciousness if I had not split off the world of ideas from the world of perception while entering into the world. However, I would never find the bridge to the world if I did not combine the world of ideas that I have split off again with that which is not reality without the world of ideas.

Kant searches reality only in the outer perception and does not guess that the other half of reality is just in that which we carry in ourselves. We have taken that which we carry as world of ideas in ourselves only from the outer reality. Now we have solved the problem of nominalism, because we do not put space, time, and ideas, which would be mere names, upon the outer perception, but now we give back the perception what we had taken from it when we entered into the sensory existence.

Thus, we have the relationship of the human being to the spiritual world at first in a purely philosophical form. Someone is just overcoming Kantianism who takes up this basic idea of my Philosophy of Freedom, which the title of the writing Truth and Science already expresses: the fact that real science combines perception and the world of ideas and regards this combining as a real process. However, he is just coping with the problem which nominalism had produced which faced the separation into perception and the world of ideas powerlessly.

One approaches this problem of individuality in the ethical area. Therefore, my Philosophy of Freedom became a philosophy of reality. While cognition is not only a formal act but also a process of reality, the moral action presents itself as an outflow of that which the individual experiences as intuition by moral imagination. The ethical individualism originates this way as I have shown in the second part of my Philosophy of Freedom. This individualism is based on the Christ impulse, even if I have not explicitly said that in my Philosophy of Freedom. It is based on that which the human being gains to himself as freedom while he changes the usual thinking into that which I have called pure thinking in my Philosophy of Freedom which rises to the spiritual world and gets out the impulses of moral actions while something that is bound, otherwise, to the human physical body, the impulse of love, is spiritualised. While the moral ideals are borrowed from the spiritual world by moral imagination, they become the force of spiritual love.

Hence, the Philosophy of Freedom had to counter Kant's philistine principle—“Duty! You elated name, you do not have anything of flattery with yourself but strict submission” -, with the transformed ego which develops up into the sphere of spirituality and starts there loving virtue, and, therefore, practises virtue because it loves it out of individuality.

Thus, that which remained mere religious contents to Kant made itself out to be real world contents. Since to Kant knowledge is something formal, something real to the Philosophy of Freedom. A real process goes forward. Hence, the higher morality is also tied together with it to a reality, which philosophers of values like Windelband (Wilhelm, 1845-1915) and Rickert (Heinrich R., 1863-1936) do not at all reach. Since they do not find out for themselves how that which is morally valuable is rooted in the world. Of course, those people who do not regard the process of cognition as a real process do not get to rooting morality in the world of reality; they generally get to no philosophy of reality.

From the philosophical development of western philosophy, spiritual science was got out, actually. Today I attempted to show that that Cistercian father heard not quite inaccurately that really the attempt is taken to put the realistic elements of High Scholasticism with spiritual science in our scientific age, how one was serious about the change of the human soul, about the fulfilment of the human soul with the Christ impulse also in the intellectual life. Knowledge is made a real factor in world evolution that takes place only on the scene of the human consciousness as I have explained in my book Goethe's Worldview. However, these events in the world further the world and us within the world at the same time.

There the problem of knowledge takes on another form. That which we experience changes spiritual-mentally in ourselves into a real development factor. There we are that which arises from knowledge. As magnetism works on the arrangement of filings of iron, that works in us what is reflected in us as knowledge. At the same time, it works as our design principle, then we recognise the immortal, the everlasting in ourselves, and we do no longer raise the issue of knowledge in only formal way.

The issue of knowledge was always raised referring to Kant in such a way that one said to himself, how does the human being get around to regarding the inner world as an image of the outer world?—However, cognition is not at all there at first to create images of the outer world but to develop us, and it is an ancillary process that we depict the outside world. We let that flow together in the outside world in an ancillary process, which we have split off at our birth. It is exactly the same way with the modern issue of knowledge, as if anybody has wheat and investigates its nutritional effect if he wants to investigate the growth principle of wheat. Indeed, one may become a food chemist, but food chemistry does not recognise that which is working from the ear through the root, the stalk, and the leaves to the blossom and fruit. It explains something only that is added to the normal development of the wheat plant.

Thus, there is a developmental current of spiritual life in us, which is concerned with our being to some extent as the plant develops from the root through the stalk and leaves to the blossom and the fruit, and from there again to the seed and the root. As that which we eat should not play any role with the explanation of the plant growth, the question of the epistemological value of that which lives in us as a developmental impulse must also not be the basis of a theory of knowledge, but it has to be clear that knowledge is a side effect of the work of the ideal in our human nature. There we get to the real of that which is ideal. It works in us. The wrong nominalism, Kantianism, originated only because one put the question of knowledge in such a way as food chemistry would put the question of the nature of wheat.

Hence, one may say, not before we find out for ourselves what Thomism can be for the present, we see it originating in spiritual science in its figure for the twentieth century, and then it is back again as spiritual science. Then light is thrown on the question: how does this appear if now one comes and says, compared with the present philosophy one has to go back to Thomas Aquinas, and to study him, at most with some critical explanations and something else that he wrote in the thirteenth century?—There we realise, what it means, to project our thoughts in honest and frank way in the development current that takes High Scholasticism as starting point, and what it means to carry back our mind to this thirteenth century surveying the entire European development since the thirteenth century. This resulted from the encyclical Aeterni patris of 1879 that asks the Catholic clerics to regard the philosophy of Thomas Aquinas as the official philosophy of the Catholic Church. I do not want to discuss the question here: where is Thomism? Since one would have to discuss the question: do I look best at the rose that I face there if I disregard the blossom and dig into the earth to look at the roots and check as to whether something has already originated from the root.

Now, you yourselves can imagine all that. We experience what asserts itself among us as a renewal of that Thomism, as it existed in the thirteenth century, beside that which wants to take part honestly in the development of the European West. We may ask on the other hand, where does Thomism live in the present? You need only to put the question: how did Thomas Aquinas himself behave to the revelation contents? He tried to get a relationship to them. We have the necessity to get a relationship to the contents of physical manifestation. We cannot stop at dogmatics. One has to overcome the “dogma of experience” as on the other side one has to overcome the dogma of revelation. There we have really to make recourse to the world of ideas that receives the transforming Christ principle to find again our world of ideas, the spiritual world with Christ in us. Should the world of ideas remain separated? Should the world of ideas not participate in redemption?

In the thirteenth century, one could not yet find the Christian principle of redemption in the world of ideas; therefore, one set it against the world of revelation. This must become the progress of humanity for the future that not only for the outer world the redemption principle is found, but also for the human intellect. The unreleased human reason only could not rise in the spiritual world. The released human intellect that has the real relationship to Christ penetrates into the spiritual world.

From this viewpoint, Christianity of the twentieth century is penetrating into the spiritual world, so that it deeply penetrates into the thinking, into the soul life. This is no pantheism, this is Christianity taken seriously. Perhaps one may learn just from this consideration of the philosophy of Thomas Aquinas—even if it got lost in abstract areas—that spiritual science takes the problems of the West seriously that it always wants to stand on the ground of the present.

I know how many false things arise now. I could also imagine that now again one says, yes, he has often changed his skin; he turns to Thomism now because the things become risky.—Indeed, one called the priests of certain confessions snakes in ancient times. Snakes slough their skins. As well as the opponents understand skinning today, it is indeed a lie. Since I have shown today how you can find the philosophically conscientious groundwork of spiritual science in my first writings.

Now I may point to two facts. In 1908, I held a talk about the philosophical development of the West in Stuttgart. In this talk, I did not feel compelled to point to the fact that possibly my discussion of Thomism displeased the Catholic clerics, because I did justice to Thomism, I emphasised its merits even with much clearer words than the Neo-Thomists, Kleutgen or others did. Hence, I did not find out for myself in those days that my praise of Thomism could be taken amiss by the Catholic clergy, and I said, if one speaks of scholasticism disparagingly, one is not branded heretical by the so-called free spirits. However, if one speaks, objectively about that, one is easily misunderstood because one often rests philosophically upon a misunderstood Thomism within the positive and just the most intolerant church movement. I did not fear at all to be attacked because of my praise of Thomism by the Catholic clergy, but by the so-called free spirits. It happened different, and people will say, we are the first whom he did a mischief.

During these days, I have also pointed to my books that I wrote around the turn of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, among them also to a book that I dedicated to Ernst Haeckel, Worldviews and Approaches to Life in the Nineteenth Century. There I pointed to the fact that the modern thinking is not astute and logical; and that Neo-Scholasticism tried to rest upon the strictly logical of Thomism. I wrote: “These thinkers could really move in the world of ideas without imagining this world in unsubtle sensory-bodily form.” I spoke about the scholastics this way, and then I still spoke about the Catholic thinkers who had taken the study of scholasticism again: “The Catholic thinkers who try today to renew this art of thinking are absolutely worth to be considered in this respect. It will always have validity what one of them, the Jesuit father Joseph Kleutgen (1811-1889), says in his book An Apology of the Philosophy of the Past: “Two sentences form the basis of the different epistemologies which we have just repeated: the first one, that our reason ...” and so on. You realise, if the Jesuit Joseph Kleutgen did something meritorious, I acknowledged it in my book. However, this had the result that one said in those days that I myself was a disguised Jesuit. At that time, I was a disguised Jesuit; now you read in numerous writings, I am a Jew.

I only wanted to mention this at the end. In any case, I do not believe that anybody can draw the conclusion from this consideration, that I have belittled Thomism.

These considerations should show that the High Scholasticism of the thirteenth century was a climax of European intellectual development, and that the present time has reason to go into it. We can learn very much for deepening our thought life to overcome any nominalism, so that we find Christianity again by Christianising the ideas that penetrate into the spiritual being from which the human being must have originated, because only the consciousness of his spiritual origin can give him satisfaction.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I should like in these three days to speak on a subject which is generally looked at from a more formal angle, as if the attitude of the philosophic view of life to Christianity had been to a certain extent dictated by the deep philosophic movement of the Middle Ages. As this side of the question has lately had a kind of revival through Pope Leo XIII's Ordinance to his clergy to make “Thomism” the official philosophy of the Catholic Church, our present subject has a certain significance. But I do not wish to treat the subject which crystallized as mediaeval philosophy round the personalities of Albertus Magnus and Thomas Aquinas, only from this formal side; rather I wish in the course of these days to reveal the deeper historical background out of which this philosophic movement, much underrated to-day, has arisen. We can say: Thomas Aquinas tries in the thirteenth century quite clearly to grasp the problem of the total human knowledge of philosophies, and in a way which we have to admit is difficult for us to follow, for conditions of thought are attached to it which people to-day scarcely fulfil, even if they are philosophers. One must be able to put oneself completely into the manner of thought of Thomas Aquinas, his predecessors and successors; one must know how to take their conceptions, and how their conceptions lived in the souls of those men of the Middle Ages, of which the history of philosophy tells only rather superficially.

If we look now at the central point of this study, at Thomas Aquinas, we would say: in him we have a personality which in face of the main current of mediaeval Christian philosophy really disappears as a personality; one which, we might almost say, is only the co-efficient or exponent of the current of world philosophy, and finds expression as a personality only through a certain universality. So that, when we speak of Thomism, we can focus our attention on something quite exceptionally impersonal, on something which is revealed only through the personality of Thomas Aquinas. On the other hand we see at once that we must put into the forefront of our inquiry a full and complete personality, and all that term includes, when we consider the individual who was the immediate and chief predecessor of Thomism, namely Augustine. With him everything was personal, with Thomas Aquinas everything was really impersonal. In Augustine we have to deal with a fighting man, in Thomas

Aquinas, with a mediaeval Church defining its attitude to heaven and earth, to men, to history, etc., a Church which, we might say, expressed itself as a Church, within certain limitations it is true, through the philosophy of Thomas Aquinas.

A significant event separates the two, and unless one takes this event into consideration, it is not possible to define the mutual relationship of these mediaeval individuals. The event to which I refer is the declaration of heresy by the Emperor Justinian against Origen. The whole direction of Augustine's view of the world becomes clear only when we keep in mind the whole historical background from which Augustine emerged. This historical background, however, becomes in reality, completely changed from the fact that the powerful influence—it was actually a powerful influence in spite of much that has been said in the history of philosophy—that this powerful influence on the Western world which had spread from the Schools of Philosophy in Athens, ceased to exist. It persisted into the sixth century, and then ebbed, but so that something remains which in fact, in the subsequent philosophical stream of the West, is quite different from that which Augustine knew in his lifetime. I shall have to ask you to take note that to-day's address is more in the nature of an introduction, that we shall deal tomorrow with the real nature of Thomism, and that on the third day I shall make clear my object in bringing before you all I have to say in these three days.

For you see, ladies and gentlemen, if you will excuse the personal reference, I am in rather a special position with regard to Christian mediaeval philosophy, that is, to Thomism. I have often mentioned, even in public addresses, what happened to me once when I had put before a working-class audience what I must look upon as the true course of Western history. The result was that though there were a good many pupils in agreement with me, the leaders of the proletarian movement at the turn of the century hit on the idea that I was not presenting true Marxism. And although one could assert that the world in future must after all recognize something like freedom in teaching, I was told at the final meeting: This party recognizes no freedom in teaching, only a rational compulsion! And my activity as a teacher, in spite of the fact that at the time a large number of students from the proletariat had been attracted, was forced to a sudden and untimely end.

I might say I had the same experience in other places with what I wanted to say, now about nineteen or twenty years ago, concerning Thomism and everything that belonged to mediaeval philosophy. It was of course just the time when what we are accustomed to call “Monism” reached its height, round the year 1900. At this time there was founded in Germany the “Giordano-Bruno-Bund” apparently to encourage a free, independent view of life, but au fond really only to encourage the materialistic side of Monism. Now, ladies and gentlemen, because it was impossible for me at the time to take part in all that empty phrase-making which went out into the world as Monism, I gave an address on Thomism in the Berlin “Giordano-Bruno-Bund.”

In this address I sought to prove that a real and spiritual Monism had been given in Thomism, that this spiritual Monism, moreover, had been given in such a way that it reveals itself through the most accurate thought imaginable, of which more recent philosophy, under the influence of Kant and Protestantism has at bottom not the least idea, and no longer the capacity to achieve it.

And so I fell foul also of Monism. It is, in point of fact, extraordinarily difficult to-day to speak of these things in such a way that one's word seems to be based sincerely on the matter itself and not to be in the service of some Party or other. I want in these three days to try once more to speak thus impartially of the matters I have indicated.

The personality of Augustine fits into the fourth and fifth centuries, as I said before, as a fighting personality in the fullest sense. His method of fighting is what sinks deep into the soul if we can understand in detail the particular nature of this fight. There are two problems which faced Augustine's soul with an intensity of which we, with our pallid problems of knowledge and of the soul, have really no idea.

The first problem can be put thus: Augustine strives to find the nature of what man can recognize as truth, supporting him, filling his soul. The second problem is this: How can you explain the presence of evil in a world which after all has no sense unless its purpose at least has something to do with good? How can you explain the pricks of evil in human nature which never cease—according to Augustine's view—the voice of evil which is never silent, even if a man strives honestly and uprightly after the good?

I do not believe that we can get near to Augustine if we take these two questions in the sense in which the average man of our time, even if he were a philosopher, would be apt to take them. You must look for the special shade of meaning these questions had for a man of the fourth and fifth centuries. Augustine lived, after all, at first a life of inner commotion, not to say a dissipated life; but always these two questions ran up before him. Personally he is placed in a dilemma. His father is a Pagan, his mother a pious Christian; and she takes the utmost pains to win him for Christianity. At first the son can be moved only to a certain seriousness, and this is directed towards Manichaeism. We shall look later at this view of life, which early came into Augustine's range of vision, as he changed from a somewhat irregular way of living to a full seriousness of life. Then—after some years—he felt himself more and more out of sympathy with Manichaeism, and fell under the sway of a certain Scepticism, not driven by the urge of his soul or some other high reason, but because the whole philosophical life of the time led him that way. This Scepticism was evolved at a certain time from Greek philosophy, and remained to the day of Augustine. Now, however, the influence of Scepticism grew ever less and less, and was for Augustine, as it were, only a link with Greek philosophy. And this Scepticism led to something which without doubt exercised for a time a quite unusually deep influence on his subjectivity, and the whole attitude of his soul. It led him into a Neoplatonism of a different kind from what in the history of philosophy is generally called Neoplatonism. Augustine got more out of this Neoplatonism than one usually thinks. The whole personality and the whole struggle of Augustine can be understood only when one understands how much of the neoplatonic philosophy had entered into his soul; and if we study objectively the development of Augustine, we find that the break which occurred in going over from Manichaeism to Platonism was hardly as violent in the transition from Neoplatonism to Christianity. For one can really say: in a certain sense Augustine remained a Neoplatonist; to the extent he became one at all he remained one. But he could become a Neoplatonist only up to a point. For that reason, his destiny led him to become acquainted with the phenomenon of Christ-Jesus. And this is really not a big jump but a natural course of development in Augustine from Neoplatonism to Christianity. How this Christianity lives in Augustine—yes—how it lives in Augustine we cannot judge unless we look first at Manichaeism, a remarkable formula for overcoming the old heathenism at the same time as the Old Testament and Judaism.

Manichaeism was already at the time when Augustine was growing up a world-current of thought which had spread throughout North Africa, where, you must remember, Augustine spent his youth, and in which many people of Western Europe had been caught up. Founded in about the third century in Asia by Mani, a Persian, Manichaeism had extraordinarily little effect historically on the subsequent world. To define this Manichaeism, we must say this: there is more importance in the general attitude of this view of life than in what one can literally describe as its contents. Above all, the remarkable thing about it is that the division of human experience into a spiritual side and a material side had no meaning for it. The words or ideas “spirit” and “matter” mean nothing to it. Manichaeism sees as “spiritual” what appears to the senses as material and when it speaks of the spiritual it does not rise above what the senses know as matter. It is true to say of Manichaeism—much more emphatically true than we with our world grown so abstract and intellectual usually think,—that it actually sees spiritual phenomena, spiritual facts in the stars and their courses, and that it sees at the same time in the mystery of the sun that which is manifest to us on earth as something spiritual. It conveys no meaning for Manichaeism to speak of either matter or spirit, for in it what is spiritual has its material manifestation and what is material is to it spiritual. Therefore, Manichaeism quite naturally speaks of astronomical things and world phenomena in the same way as it would speak of moral phenomena or happenings within the development of human beings. And thus this apposition of “Light” and “Darkness” which Manichaeism, imitating something from ancient Persia, embodies in its philosophy, is to it at the same time something completely and obviously spiritual. And it is also something obvious that this same Manichaeism still speaks of what apparently moves as sun in the heavens as something which has to do with the moral entities and moral impulses in the development of mankind; and that it speaks of the relation of this moral-physical sun in the heavens, to the Signs of the Zodiac as to the twelve beings through which the original being, the original source of light delegates its activities. But there is something more about this Manichaeism. It looks upon man and man does not yet appear to its eyes as what we to-day see in man. To us man appears as a kind of climax of creation on earth. Whether we think more or less in material or spiritual terms, man appears to man now as the crown of creation on earth, the kingdom of man as the highest kingdom or at least as the crown of the animal kingdom. Manichaeism cannot agree to this.

The thing which had walked the earth as man and in its time was still walking it, is to it only a pitiful remnant of that being which ought to have become man through the divine essence of light. Man should have become something entirely different from the man now walking the earth. The being now walking on earth as man was created through original man losing the fight against the demons of darkness, this original man who had been created by the power of light as an ally in its fight against the demons of darkness, but who had been transplanted into the sun by benevolent powers and had thus been taken up by the kingdom of light itself. But the demons have managed nevertheless to tear off as it were a part of this original man from the real man who escaped into the sun and to form the earthly race of man out of it, the earthly race which thus walks about on earth as a weaker edition of that which could not live here, for it had to be removed into the sun during the great struggle of spirits. In order to lead back man, who in this way appeared as a weaker edition on earth, to his original destination the Christ-being then appeared and through its activity the demonic influences are to be removed from the earth.

I know very well, that all that part of this view of life which is still capable of being put into modern language, can hardly be intelligible; for the whole of it comes from substrata of the soul's experience which differ vastly from the present ones. But the important part which is interesting us to-day is what I have already emphasized. For however fantastic it may appear, this part I have been telling you about the continuation of the development on earth in the eyes of the Manichaeans—Manichaeism did not represent it at all as something only to be viewed in the spirit, but as a phenomenon which we would to-day call material, unfolding itself to our physical eyes as something at the same time spiritual.

That was the first powerful influence on Augustine, and the problems connected with the personality of Augustine can really only be solved if one bears in mind the strong influence of this Manichaeism, with its principle of the spiritual-material. We must ask ourselves: What was the reason for Augustine's dissatisfaction with Manichaeism? It was not based on what one might call its mystical content as I have just described it to you, but his dissatisfaction arose from the whole attitude of Manichaeism. At first Augustine was attracted, in a sense sympathetically moved by the physical self-evidence, by the pictorial quality with which this philosophy was presented to him; but then something in him appeared which refused to be satisfied with this very quality which regarded matter spiritually and the spiritual materially. And one can come to the right conclusion about this only if one faces the real truth which often has been advanced as a formal view; namely, if one considers that Augustine was a man who was fundamentally more akin to the men of the Middle Ages and even perhaps to the men of modern times than he could possibly be to those men who through their soul-mood were the natural inheritors of Manichaeism. Augustine has already something of what I would call the revival of spiritual life. In other places I have often pointed, even in public lectures, to what I mean. These present times are intellectual and inclined to the abstract, and so we always see in the history of any century the influences at work from the preceding century, and so on. In the case of an individual it is of course pure nonsense to say: something which happens in, let us say, his eighteenth year is only the consequence of something else which happened in his thirteenth or fourteenth year. In between lies something which springs from the deepest depths of human nature, which is not just the consequence of something that has gone before in the sense in which one is justified in speaking of cause and effect, but is rather something which is inherent in the nature of man, and takes place in human life, namely, adolescence. And such a gap has to be recognized also at other times in human evolution—in individual human evolution, when something struggles from the depths to the surface; so that we cannot say: what happens is only the direct uninterrupted consequence of whatever has preceded it. And such gaps occur also in the case of all humanity. We have to assume that before such a gap Manichaeism occurred, and after such a gap occurred the soul-attitude, the soul-conception in which Augustine found himself. Augustine could simply not come to terms with his soul unless he rose above what a Manichaean called material-spiritual to something purely spiritual, something built and seen in the spiritual sphere; Augustine had to rise to something much more free of the senses. So he had to turn away from the pictorial, the evidential philosophy of Manichaeism. This was the first thing that developed so intensively in his soul. We read it in his words: the heaviest and almost the only reason for error which I could not avoid was that I had to imagine a bodily substance when I wanted to think of God.

In this way he refers to the time when Manichaeism with its material spirituality and its spiritual materiality lived in his soul; he refers to it in these words and characterizes this period of his life thus as an error. He needed something to look up to, something which was fundamental to human nature. He needed something which, unlike the Manichaean principles, does not look upon the physical universe as spiritual-material. As everything with him struggled with intensive and overpowering earnestness to the surface of his soul, so also this saying: “I asked the earth and it said: `I am not it,' and all things on it confessed the same.”

What does Augustine ask? He asks what the divine really is, and he asks the earth and it says to him, “I am not it.” Manichaeism would have: “I am it as earth, in so far as the divine expresses itself through earthly works.” And again Augustine says: “I asked the sea and the abysses and whatever living thing they cover:” “We are not your God, seek above us.” “I asked the sighing winds,” and the whole nebula with all its inhabitants said: “The philosophers who seek the nature of things in us were mistaken, for we are not God.”

(Thus not the sea and not the nebula, nothing in fact which can be observed through the senses.)

“I asked the sun, the moon, and the stars.” They said: “We are not God whom thou seekest.”

Thus he gropes his way out of Manichaeism, precisely out of that part of it which must be called its most significant part, at least in this connection. Augustine gropes after something spiritual which is free of all sensuousness. And in this he finds himself exactly in that era of human soul-development in which the soul had to free itself from the contemplation of matter as something spiritual and of the spiritual as something material. We entirely misunderstand Greek philosophy in reference to this. And because I tried for once to describe Greek philosophy as it really was, the beginning of my Riddles of Philosophy seems so difficult to understand. When the Greeks speak of ideas, of conceptions, when Plato speaks of them, people now believe that Plato or the Greeks mean the same by ideas as we do. This is not so, for the Greeks spoke of ideas as something which they observed in the outer world like colours or sounds. That part of Manichaeism which we find slightly changed, with—let us say—an oriental tinge, that is already present in the whole Greek view of life. The Greek sees his idea just as he sees colours. And he still possesses that material-spiritual, spiritual-material life of the soul, which does not rise to what we know as spiritual life. Whatever we may call it, a mere abstraction or the true content of our soul, we need not decide at the present moment; the Greek does not yet reckon with what we call a life of the soul free from matter; he does not distinguish, as we do, between thinking and outward use of the senses. The whole Platonic philosophy ought to be seen in this light to be fully understood.

We can now say, that Manichaeism is nothing but a post-Christian variation (with an oriental tinge) of something already existing among the Greeks. Neither do we understand that wonderful genius who closes the circle of Greek philosophy, Aristotle, unless we know that whenever he speaks of concepts, he still keeps within the meaning of an experienced tradition which regarded concepts as belonging to the outer world of the senses as well as perceptions, though he is already getting close to the border of understanding abstract thought free from all evidence of the senses. Through the point of view to which men's souls had attained during his era, through actual events happening within the souls of men in whose rank Augustine was a distinctive, prominent personality, Augustine was forced not just only to experience within his soul, as the Greeks had done, but he was forced to rise to thoughts free from sense-perceptions, to thoughts which still kept their meaning even if they were not dealing with earth, air and sea, with stars, sun and moon; thoughts which had a content beyond the sense of vision.

And now only philosophers and philosophies spoke to him which spoke of what they had to say from an entirely different point of view, that is, from the super-spiritual one just explained. Small wonder, then, that these souls striving in a vague way for something not yet in existence and trying with their minds to seize what was there, could only find something they could not absorb; small wonder that these souls sought refuge in scepticism. On the other hand, the feeling of standing on a sound basis of truth and the desire to get an answer to the question of the origin of Evil was so strong in Augustine, that equally powerful in his soul lived that philosophy which stands under the name of Neoplatonism at the end of Greek philosophic development. This is focused in Plotinus and reveals to us historically what neither the Dialogues of Plato and still less Aristotelian philosophy can reveal, namely, the course of the whole life of the soul when it looks for a greater intensiveness and a reaching beyond the normal. Plotinus is like a last straggler of a type which followed quite different paths to knowledge, to the inner life of the soul, from those which were gradually understood later. Plotinus must appear fantastic to present-day men. To those who have absorbed something of mediaeval scholasticism Plotinus must appear as a terrible fanatic, indeed, as a dangerous one.

I have noticed this repeatedly. My old friend Vincenz Knauer, the Benedictine monk, who wrote a history of philosophy and who has also written a book about the chief problems of philosophy from Thales to Hamerling was, I may well say, good-nature incarnate. This man never let himself go except when he had to deal with Neoplatonism, in particular with Plotinus, and he would then get quite angry and would denounce Plotinus terribly as a dangerous fanatic. And Brentano, that intelligent Aristotelian and Empiric, Franz Brentano, who also carried mediaeval philosophy deeply and intensely in his soul, wrote a little book: Philosophies that Create a Stir, and there he fumes about Plotinus in the same way, for Plotinus the dangerous fanatic is the philosopher, the man who in his opinion “created a stir” at the close of the ancient Greek period. To understand him is really extraordinarily difficult for the modern philosopher.

Concerning this philosopher of the third century we have next to say this: What we experience as the content of our understanding, of our reason, what we know as the sum of our concepts about the world is entirely different for him. I might say, if I may express myself clearly: we understand the world through sense-observations which through abstraction we bring to concepts, and end there. We have the concepts as inner psychic experience and if we are average men of to-day we are more or less conscious that we have abstractions, something we have sucked as it were out of things. The important thing is that we end there; we pay attention to the experiences of the senses and stop at the point where we make the total of our concepts, of our ideas. It was not so for Plotinus. For him this whole world of sense-experience scarcely existed. But that which meant something to him, of which he spoke as we speak of plants and minerals and animals and physical men, was something which he saw lying above concepts; it was a spiritual world and this spiritual world had for him a nether boundary, namely, the concepts. While we get our concepts by going to concrete things, make them into abstractions and concepts and say: concepts are the putting-together, the extractions of ideal nature from the observation of the senses, Plotinus said—and he paid little heed to the observation of the senses: “We, as men, live in a spiritual world, and what this spiritual world reveals to us finally, what we see as its nether boundary, are concepts.” For us the world of the senses lies below concepts: for Plotinus there is above concepts a spiritual world, the intellectual world, the world really of the kingdom of the spirit. I might use the following image: let us suppose we were submerged in the sea, and looking upward to the surface of the water, we saw nothing but this surface, nothing above the surface, then this surface would be the upper boundary. Suppose we lived in the sea, we might perhaps have in our soul the feeling: This boundary would be the limit of our life-element, in which we are, if we were organized as sea-beings. But for Plotinus it was not so. He took no notice of the sea round him; but the boundary which he saw, the boundary of the concept-world in which his soul lived, was for him the nether boundary of something above it; just as if we were to take the boundary of the water as the boundary of the atmosphere and the clouds and so on. At the same time this sphere above concepts is for Plotinus what Plato calls the “world of ideas” and Plotinus throughout imagines that he is continuing the true genuine philosophy of Plato. This “idea-world” is, first of all, completely a world of which one speaks in the sense of Plotinism. Surely it would not occur to you, even if you were Subjectivists or followers of the modern Subjectivist philosophy, when you look out upon the meadow, to say: I have my meadow, you have yours, and so and so has his meadow; even if you are convinced that you each have only before you the image of a meadow, you speak of the meadow in the singular, of one meadow which is out there. In the same way Plotinus speaks of the one idea-world, not of the idea-world of this mind, or of another or of a third mind. In this idea-world—and this we see already in the whole manner in which one has to characterize the thought-process leading to this idea-world—in this idea-world the soul has a part. So we may say: The soul, the Psyche, unfolds itself out of the idea-world and experiences it. And the Soul, just as the idea-world creates the Psyche, in its turn creates the matter in which it is embodied. So that the lower material from which the Psyche takes its body is chiefly a creation of this Psyche.

But precisely there is the origin of individuation, there the Psyche, which otherwise takes part in the single idea-world, becomes a part of body A, and body B, and so on, and through this fact there appear, for the first time, individual souls. It is just as if I had a great quantity of liquid in one mass, and having taken twenty glasses had filled each with the liquid, so that I have this liquid, which as such is a unity, thus divided, just so I have the Psyche in the same condition, because it is incorporated in bodies which, however, it has itself created. Thus in the Plotinistic sense a man can view himself according to his exterior, his vessel. But that is at bottom only the way in which the soul reveals itself, in which the soul also becomes individualized. Afterward man has to experience within him his very own soul, which raises itself upward to the idea-world. Still later there comes a higher form of experience. That one should speak of abstract concepts—that has no meaning for a Plotinist; for such abstract concepts—well, a Plotinist would have said: “What do you mean—abstract concepts? Concepts surely cannot be abstract: they cannot hang in the air, they must be suspended from the spirit; they must be the concrete revelations of the spiritual.”

The interpretation therefore that ideas are any kind of abstractions, is therefore wrong. This is the expression of an intellectual world, a world of spirituality. It is also what existed in the ordinary experience of those men out of whose relationships Plotinus and his fellows grew. For them such talk about concepts, in the way we talk about them, had absolutely no meaning, because for them there was only a penetration of the spiritual world into souls. And this concept-world is found at the limit of this penetration, in experiencing. Only when we went deeper, when we developed the soul further, only then there resulted something which the ordinary man could not know, which the man experienced who had attained a higher stage. He then experienced that which was above the idea-world—the One, if you like to call it so—the experience of the One. This was for Plotinus the thing that was unattainable to concepts, just because it was above the world of concepts, and could only be attained if one could sink oneself into oneself without concept, a state we describe here in our spiritual science as Imagination. You can read about it in my book, Knowledge of the Higher Worlds and How to Attain It. But there is this difference: I have treated the subject from the modern point of view, whereas Plotinus treated it from the old. What I there call the Imagination is just that which, according to Plotinus stands above the idea-world.

From this general view of the world Plotinus really also derived all his knowledge of the human soul. It is, after all, practically contained in it. And one can be an individualist in the sense of Plotinus if one is at the same time a human being who recognizes how man raises his life upwards to something which is above all individuality, to something spiritual; whereas in our age we have more the habit of reaching downwards to the things of the senses. But all this which is the expression of something which a thorough scientist regards as fanaticism, all this is in the case of Plotinus, not something thought out, these are no hypotheses of his. This perception—right up to the One which only in exceptional cases could be attained—this perception was as clear to Plotinus and as obvious, as is for us to-day the perception of minerals, plants and animals. He spoke only in the sense of something which really was directly experienced by the soul when he spoke of the soul, of the Logos, which was part of the Nous, of the idea-world and of the One. For Plotinus the whole world was, as it were, a spirituality—again a different shade of philosophy from the Manichaean and from the one Augustine pursued. Manichaeism recognizes a sense-supersense; for it the words and concepts of matter and spirit have as yet no meaning. Augustine strives to reach a spiritual experience of the soul that is free from the sense and to escape from his material view of life. For Plotinus the whole world is spiritual, things of the senses do not exist. For what appears material is only the lowest method of revealing the spiritual. All is spirit, and if we only go deep enough into things, everything is revealed as spirit.

This is something which Augustine could not accept. Why? Because he had not the necessary point of view. Because he lived in his age as a predecessor—for if I might call Plotinus a “follower” of the ancient times in which one held such philosophic views,—though he went on into the third century,—Augustine was a predecessor of those people who could no longer feel and perceive that there was a spiritual world underneath the idea-world. He just did not see that any more. He could only learn it by being told. He might hear that people said it was so, and he might develop a feeling that there was something in it which was a human road to truth. That was the dilemma in which Augustine stood in relation to Plotinism. But he was never completely diverted from searching for an inner understanding of this Plotinism. However, this philosophical point of view did not open itself to him. He only guessed: in this world there must be something. But he could not fight his way to it.

This was the mood of his soul when he withdrew himself into a lonely life, in which he got to know the Bible and Christianity, and later the sermons of Ambrosius and the Epistles of St. Paul; and this was the mood of his soul which finally brought him to say: “The nature of the world which Plotinus sought at first in the nature of the idea-world of the Nous, or in the One, which one can attain only in specially favourable conditions of soul, why! That has appeared in the body on earth, in human form, through Christ-Jesus.” That leapt at him as a conviction out of the Bible: “Thou hast no need to struggle upward to the One, thou needest but look upon that which the historical tradition of Christ-Jesus interprets. There is the One come down from heaven, and is become man.” And Augustine exchanges the philosophy of Plotinus for the Church. He expresses this exchange clearly enough. For instance, when he says, “Who could be so blind as to say: 'The Apostolic Church merits no Faith” the church which is so faithful and supported by so many brotherly agreements that it has transmitted their writings as conscientiously to those that come after, as it has kept their episcopal sees in direct succession down to the present Bishops. This it is on which Augustine, out of the soul-mood described, laid the chief stress:—that, if one only goes into it, it can be shown in the course of centuries that there were once men who knew the Lord's disciples, and here is a continuous tradition of a sort worthy of belief, that there appeared on earth the very thing which Plotinus knew how to attain in the way I have indicated.

And now there arose in Augustine the effort, in so far as he could get to the heart of it, to make use of this Plotinism to comprehend that which had through Christianity been opened to his feeling and his inner perception. He actually applied the knowledge he had through Plotinism to understand Christianity and its meaning. Thus, for example, he transposed the concept of the One. For Plotinus the One was something experienced; for Augustine who could not attain this experience, the One became something which he defined with the abstract term “being”; the idea-world, he defined with the abstract concept “knowing,” and Psyche with the abstract concept “living,” or even “love.” We have the best evidence that Augustine proceeded thus in that he sought to comprehend the spiritual world, with neoplatonic and Plotinistic concepts, that there is above men a spiritual world, out of which the Christ descends. The Trinity was something which Plotinism made clear to Augustine, the three persons of the Trinity, the Father, the Son, the Holy Ghost.

And if we were to ask seriously, of what was Augustine's soul full, when he spoke of the Three Persons—we must answer: It was full of the knowledge derived from Plotinus. And this knowledge he carried also into his understanding of the Bible. We see how it continues to function. For this Trinity awakens to life again, for example, in Scotus Erigena, who lived at the court of Charles the Bald in the ninth century, and who wrote a book on the divisions and classification of Nature in which we still find a similar Trinity: Christianity interprets its content from Plotinism.

But what Augustine preserved from Plotinism in a specially strong degree was something that was fundamental to it.

You must remember that man, since the Psyche reaches down into the material as into a vessel, is really the only earthly individuality. If we ascend slightly into higher regions, to the divine or the spiritual, where the Trinity originates, we have no longer to do with individual man, but with the species, as it were, with humanity. We no longer direct our visualization in this bald manner towards the whole of humanity, as Augustine did as a result of his Plotinism. Our modern concepts are against it. I might say: Seen from down there, men appear as individuals; seen from above—if one may hypothetically say that—all humanity appears as one unity. From this point of view the whole of humanity became for Plotinus concentrated in Adam. Adam was all humanity. And since Adam sprang from the spiritual world he was as a being bound with the earth, which had free will, because in him there lived that which was still above, and not that which arises from error of matter—itself incapable of sin. It was impossible for this man who was first Adam to sin or not to be free, and therefore also impossible to die. Then came the influence of that Satanic being, whom Augustine felt as the enemy-spirit. It tempted and seduced the man. He fell into the material, and with him all humanity.

Augustine stands, with what I might call his derived knowledge, right in the midst of Plotinism. The whole of humanity is for him one, and it sinned in Adam as a whole, not as an individual. If we look clearly between the lines particularly of Augustine's last writings, we see how extraordinarily difficult it has become for him thus to regard the whole of mankind, and the possibility that the whole fell into sin. For in him there is already the modern man, the predecessor as opposed to the successor; there lived in him the individual man who felt that individual man grew ever more and more responsible for what he did, and what he learnt. At certain moments it appeared to him impossible to feel that individual man is only a member of the whole of the human race. But Neo-Platonism and Plotinism were so deep in him that he still could look only at the whole of humanity. And so this condition in the whole man, this condition of sin and mortality—was transferred into that of the impossibility to be free, the impossibility to be immortal; all humanity had thus fallen, had been diverted from its origin. And God, were He righteous, would have simply thrown humanity aside. But He is not only righteous, He is also merciful—so Augustine felt. Therefore, he decided to save a part of mankind, note well, a part. That is to say, God's decision destined a part of mankind to receive grace, whereby this part is to be led back from the condition of bondage and mortality to the condition of potential freedom and immortality, which, it is true, can only be realized after death. One part is restored to this condition. The other part of mankind—namely, the not-chosen—remains in the condition of sin. So mankind falls into these two divisions, into those that are chosen and those who are cast out. And if we regard humanity in this Augustinian sense, it falls simply into these two divisions: those who are destined for bliss without desert, simply because it is so ordained in the divine management, and those who, whatever they do, cannot attain grace, who are predetermined and predestined to damnation.

This view, which also goes by the name of Predestination, Augustine reached as a result of the way in which he regarded the whole of humanity. If it had sinned it deserved the fate of that part of humanity which was cast out. We shall speak tomorrow of the terrible spiritual battles which have resulted from this Predestination, how Pelagianism and semi-Pelagianism grew out of it. But to-day I would add as a final remark: we now see how Augustine stands, a vivid fighting personality, between that view which reaches upward toward the spiritual, according to which humanity becomes a whole, and the urge in his soul to rise above human individuality to something spiritual which is free from material nature, but which, again, can have its origin only in individuality. This was just the characteristic feature of the age of which Augustine is the forerunner, that it was aware of something unknown to men in the old days—namely individual experience. To-day, after all, we accept a great deal as formula. But Klopstock was in earnest and not merely the maker of a phrase when he began his “Messiah” with the words: “Sing, immortal soul, of sinful man's salvation.” Homer began, equally sincerely: “Sing, O Goddess, of the wrath. ... “: or “Sing, O Muse, to me now of the man, far-travelled Odysseus.” These people did not speak of something that exists in individuality, they interpreted something of universal mankind, a race-soul, a Psyche. It is no empty phrase, when Homer lets the Muse sing, in place of himself. The feeling of individuality awakens later, and Augustine is one of the first of those who really feel the individual entity of man, with its individual responsibility. Hence, the dilemma in which he lived. The individual striving after the non-material spiritual was part of his own experience. There was a personal, subjective struggle in him. In later times that understanding of Plotinism, which it was still possible for Augustine to have, was—I might say—choked up. And after the Greek philosophers, the last followers of Plato and Plotinus, were compelled to go into exile in Persia, and after they had found their successors in the Academy of Jondishapur, this looking up to the spiritual triumphed in Western Europe—and only that remained which Aristotle had bequeathed to the after-world in the form of a filtered Greek philosophy, and then only in a few fragments. That continued to grow, and came in a roundabout way, via Arabia, back to Europe. This had no longer a consciousness of the idea world, and no Plotinism in it. And so the great question remained: Man must extract from himself the spiritual; he must produce the spiritual as an abstraction. When he sees lions and thereupon conceives the thought “lions” when he sees wolves and thereupon conceives the thought “wolves,” when he “sees man and thereupon conceives the thought” man these concepts are alive only in him, they arise out of his individuality. The whole question would have had no meaning for Plotinus; now it begins to have a meaning, and moreover a deep meaning.

Augustine, by means of the light Plotinism had shed into his soul, could understand the mystery of Christ-Jesus. Such Plotinism as was there was choked up. With the closing by the Emperor Justinian of the School of Philosophy at Athens in 529 the living connection with such views was broken off. Several people have felt deeply the idea: We are told of a spiritual world, by tradition, in Script—we experience by our individuality supernatural concepts, concepts that are removed from the material How are these concepts related to “being?” How so the nature of the world? What we take to be concepts, are these only something spontaneous in us, or have they something to do with the outer world? In such forms the questions appeared; in the most extreme abstractions, but such as were the deeply earnest concern of men and the mediaeval Church. In this abstract form, in this inner-heartedness they appeared in the two personalities of Albertus Magnus and Thomas Aquinas. Then again, they came to be called the questions between Realism and Nominalism. “What is our relationship to a world of which all we know is from conceptions which can come only from ourselves and our individuality?” That was the great question which the mediaeval schoolmen put to themselves.

If you consider what form Plotinus had taken in Augustine's predestinationism, you will be able to feel the whole depth of this scholastic question: only a part of mankind, and that only through God's judgment, could share in grace, that is, attain to bliss; the other part was destined to eternal damnation from the first, in spite of anything it might do. But what man could gain for himself as the content of his knowledge came from that concept, that awful concept of Predestination which Augustine had not been able to transform—that came out of the idea of human individuality. For Augustine mankind was a whole; for Thomas each separate man was an individuality.

How does this great World-process in Predestination as Augustine saw it hang together with the experience of separate human individuality? What is the connection between that which Augustine had really discarded and that which the separate human individuality can win for itself? For consider: Because he did not wish to lay stress on human individuality, Augustine had taken the teaching of Predestination, and, for mankind's own sake, had extinguished human individuality. Thomas Aquinas had before him only the individual man, with his thirst for knowledge. Thomas had to seek human knowledge and its relationship to the world in the very thing Augustine had excluded from his study of humanity.

It is not sufficient, ladies and gentlemen, to put such a question abstractly and intellectually and rationally; it is necessary to grasp such a question with the whole heart, with the whole human personality. Only then shall we be able to assess the weight with which this question oppressed those men who, in the thirteenth century, bore the burden of it.

The point I tried yesterday particularly to emphasize was that in the spiritual development of the West, which found its expression ultimately in the Schoolmen, not only is a part played by what we can grasp in abstract concepts, and what happened, as it were, in abstract concepts, and in a development of abstract thoughts, but rather that behind it all, there stands a real development of the impulses of Western mankind. What I mean is this: we can first of all, as happens mostly in the history of philosophy, direct our eyes on to what we find in each philosopher; we can follow how the ideas, which we find in a philosopher of the sixth, seventh, eighth or ninth century are further developed by philosophers of the tenth, eleventh, twelfth and thirteenth centuries; and from such a review we can get the impression that one thinker has taken over the ideas from another, and that we are in the presence of a certain evolution of ideas. This is an historical review of spiritual life which had gradually to be abandoned. For what takes place there, what so to speak is revealed by the individual human souls, is merely a symptom of something deeper which lies behind the scenes of the outer events; and this something which was going on already a few centuries before Christianity was founded, and continued in the first centuries a.d. up to the time of the Schoolmen, is an entirely organic process in the development of Western humanity. And unless we take this organic process into account, it is as impossible to get an explanation of it, as we could of the period of human development between the ages of twelve to twenty, if we do not consider the important influence of those forces which are connected with adolescence, and which at this time rise to the surface from the deeps of human nature. In the same way out of the depth of the whole great organism of European humanity there surges up something which can be defined—there are other ways of definition,—but which I will define by saying: Those ancient poets spoke honestly and sincerely, who, like Homer, for instance, began their epic poems: “Sing to me, Goddess, of the wrath of Achilles,” or “Sing to me, O Muse, of the much-travelled man.” These people did not wish to make a phrase, they found as an inner fact of their consciousness, that it was not a single, individual Ego that wanted to express itself, but what in fact they felt to be a higher spiritual-psychic force which plays a part in the ordinary conscious condition of man. And again—I mentioned it yesterday—Klopstock was right and saw this fact to a certain extent, even if only unconsciously, when he began his “Messiah Poem” not “Sing, O Muse,” or “Sing, O Goddess, of man's redemption,” but when he said “Sing, immortal Soul. ...” In other words, “Sing, thou individual being, that livest in each man as an individuality.” When Klopstock wrote his “Messiah,” this feeling of individuality in each soul was, it is true, fairly widespread. But this inner urge, to bring out the individuality, to shape an individual life, grew up most pronouncedly in the age between the foundation of Christianity and the higher Scholasticism. We can see only the merest surface-reflection in the thoughts of the philosophers of what was taking place in the depths of all human beings—the individualization of the consciousness of European people. And an important thing in the spread of Christianity throughout these centuries is the fact that the leaders of its propagation had to address themselves to a humanity which strove more and more, from the depth of its being, towards an inner feeling of human individuality.

We can understand the separate events that occurred in this epoch only by keeping this point of view before us. And only thus can we understand what battles took place in the souls of such people who, in the profundity of the human soul, wanted to dispute with Christianity on the one side and philosophy on the other, like Albertus Magnus and Thomas Aquinas. The authors of the usual histories of philosophy to-day have understood so little of the true form of these soul-battles which had their culmination in Albertus and Thomas, that this epoch is only approximately clearly depicted in their histories. There are many things to consider in the soul-life of Albertus and Thomas.

Superficially it looks as if Albertus Magnus, who lived from the twelfth into the thirteenth century, and Thomas, who lived in the thirteenth, had wished only to harmonize dialectically Augustinism, of which we spoke yesterday, on the one hand, and Aristotelianism on the other. One was the bearer of the church ideas, the other of the modified philosophical ideas. The attempt to find assonance between them runs, it is true, like a thread through everything either wrote. But there was in everything which thus became fixed in thoughts as in a flowering of Western feeling and will, a great deal which did not survive into the period which stretches from the fifteenth century into our own day, a period from which we have drawn our customary ideas for all sciences and for the whole of our daily life.

The man of to-day finds it really paradoxical when he hears what we heard yesterday of Augustine's beliefs; that Augustine actually believed that a part of mankind was from the beginning destined to receive God's grace without earning it—for really after original sin all must perish—to receive God's grace and be spiritually saved; and that another part of mankind must be spiritually lost—no matter what it does. To a modern man this paradox appears perhaps meaningless. But if you can get the feeling of that age in which Augustine lived, in which he absorbed all those ideas and influences I described yesterday, you will think differently. You will feel that it is possible to understand that Augustine wanted to hold on to the thoughts which, as contained in the ancient philosophies, did not take the individual man into consideration; for they, under the influence of such ideas as those of Plotinus, which I outlined yesterday, had in their minds nothing but the idea of universal mankind. And you must remember that Augustine was a man who stood in the midst of the battle between the thought which regarded mankind as a unity, and the thought which was trying to crystallize the individuality of man out of this unified mankind. But in Augustine's soul there also surged the impulse towards individuality. For this reason, these ideas take on such significant aspects—significant of soul and heart; for this reason they are so full of human experience, and Augustine becomes the intensely sympathetic figure which makes so great an impression if we turn our eyes back to the centuries which preceded Scholasticism.

After Augustine, therefore, there survived for many—but only in his ideas—those links which held together the individual man as Christian with his Church. But these ideas, as I explained them to you yesterday, could not be accepted by those Western people who rejected the idea of taking the whole of humanity as one unity, and feeling themselves as it were only a member in it, moreover a member which belongs to that part of humanity whose lot is destruction and annihilation.

And so the Church saw itself compelled to snatch at a way out. Augustine still conducted his gigantic fight against Pelagius, the man who was already filled with the individuality-impulse of the West. This was the person in whom, as a contemporary of Augustine, we can see how the sense of individuality such as later centuries had it, appears in advance. So he can only say: There is no question but that man must remain entirely without participation in his destiny in the material-spiritual world. The power by which the soul finds the connection with that which raises it from the entanglements of the flesh to the serene spiritual regions, where it can find its release and return to freedom and immortality—this power must be born of man's individuality itself. This was the point which Augustine's opponents stressed, that each man must find for himself the power to overcome inherited sin. The Church stood half-way between the two opponents, and sought a solution. There was much discussion concerning this solution—all the pros and cons, as it were—and then they took the middle way—and I can leave it to you to judge if in this case it was the golden or the copper mean—at any rate they took the middle way: semi-Pelagianism. A formula was found which was really neither black nor white, to this effect: It is as Augustine has said, but not quite as Augustine has said; nor is it quite as Pelagius has said, though in a certain sense, it is as he has said. And so one might say, that it is not through a wise divine judgment, that some are condemned to sin and others to grace, but that the matter is this, that it is a case not of a divine pre-judgment, but of a divine prescience. The divine being knows beforehand if one man is to be a sinner or the other filled with grace. At the same time no further attention was paid, when this dogma was agreed, to the fact that at bottom it is in no way a question of prescience but rather a question of taking a definite stand, whether individual man is able to join with those powers in his individual soul-life which raise him up out of his separation from the divine-spiritual being of the world and which can lead him back to it.

In this way the question really remains unsolved. And I might say that, compelled on one side to recognize the dogmas of the Church but on the other filled from deepest sensibility with profound respect for the greatness of Augustine, Albertus and Thomas stood face to face with what came to be the Western development of the spirit within the Christian movement. And yet several things from earlier times left their influence. One can see them, for instance, when one looks carefully at the souls of Albertus and of Thomas, but one realizes also that they themselves were not quite conscious of it; that they enter into their thoughts, but that they themselves cannot bring them to a precise expression. We must consider this, ladies and gentlemen, more in respect of this time of the high Scholasticism of Albertus and Thomas, we must consider it more than we would have to consider a similar phenomenon, for instance, in our day. I have permitted myself to stress the “Why?” in my Welt-und Lebensanschauung des 19 Jahrhundert,—and it was further developed in my book Die Rätzee der Philosophie, where the proposition was put in another way so that the particular passage was not repeated, if I may be allowed to say so. This means—and it will occupy us in detail tomorrow, I will only mention it now—this means that from this upward-striving of individuality among the thinkers who studied philosophically that in these thinkers we get the highest flowering of logical judgment; we might say the highest flowering of logical technique.

Ladies and gentlemen, one can quarrel as one will about this or that party-standpoint on the question of Scholasticism—all this quarrelling is as a rule grounded on very little real understanding of the matter. For whoever has a sense of the manner quite apart from the subjective content in which the accuracy of the thought is revealed in the course of a scientific explanation—or anything else; whoever has a sense of appreciating how things that hang together are thought out together, which must be thought out together if life is to have any meaning; whoever has a sense of all this, and of several other things, realizes that thought was never so exact, so logically scientific, either before or afterwards as in the age of high Scholasticism. This is just the important thing, that pure thought so runs with mathematical certainty from idea to idea, from judgment to judgment, from conclusion to conclusion, that these thinkers account to themselves for the smallest, even the tiniest, step. We have only to remember in what surroundings this thinking took place. It was not a thinking that took place as it now takes place in the noisy world; rather its place was in the quiet cloister cell or otherwise far from the busy world. It was a thinking that absorbed a thought-life, and which could also, through other circumstances, formulate a pure thought-technique. It is to-day as a matter of fact difficult to do this; for scarcely do we seek to give publicity to such a thought-activity which has no other object than to array thought upon thought according to their content, than the stupid people come, and the illogical people raise all sorts of questions, interject their violent partisanship, and, seeing that one is after all a human being among human beings, we have to make the best of these things which are, in fact, no other than brutal interruptions, which often have nothing whatever to do with the subject in question. In these circumstances that inner quiet is very soon lost to which the thinkers of the twelfth or thirteenth centuries could devote themselves, who did not have to yield so much to the opposition of the uneducated in their social life.

This and other things called forth in this epoch that wonderfully plastic but also finely-outlined thought-activity which distinguishes Scholasticism and for which people like Augustine and Thomas consciously strove.

But now think of this: on the one side are demands of life which appear as if one had to do with dogmas that have not been made clear, which in a great number of cases resembled the semi-Pelagianism already described; and as if one fought in order to uphold what one believed ought to be upheld, because the Church justifiably had set it up; and as if one wanted to maintain this with the most subtle thought. Just imagine what it means to light up with the most subtle thought something of the nature of what I have described to you as Augustinism. One must look closely into the inside of scholastic effort and not only attempt to characterize this continuity from the Patristic age to the age of the Schoolmen from the threads of concepts which one has picked up. These spirits of High Scholasticism did a great deal half unconsciously and we can really only understand it, if we consider, looking beyond what I already described yesterday, such a figure as that which entered half mysteriously from the sixth century into European spiritual life and which became known under the name of Dionysius the Areopagite. To-day, because time is too short I cannot enter into all the disputes on the question of whether there is any truth in the view that these writings were first made in the sixth century, or whether the other view is right which ascribes at any rate the traditional element of these writings to a much earlier time. All that is after all not important, but the important thing is, that the philosophy of Dionysius the Areopagite was available for the thinkers of the seventh and eighth centuries right up to the time of Thomas Aquinas, and that these writings throughout have a Christian tinge and contain in a special form that which I yesterday defined as Plotinism, as the Neo-Platonism of Plotinus. And it had become particularly important for the Christian thinkers of the outgoing old world and the beginning of the Middle Ages up to the time of High Scholasticism, what attitude the author of the Dionysius writings took to the uprising of the human soul till it achieved a view of the divine. This Dionysius is generally described as if he had two paths to the divine; and as a matter of fact there are two. One path requires the following: if man wishes to raise himself from the external things which surround him in the world to the divine, he must attempt to extract from all those things their perfections, their nature; he must attempt to go back to absolute perfection, and must be able to give a name to absolute perfection in such a way that he has a content for this divine perfection which in its turn can reveal itself and can bring forth the separate things of the world by means of individualization and differentiation. So I would say, for Dionysius divinity is that being which must be given names to the greatest extent, which must be labelled with the most superlative terms which one can possibly find amongst all the perfections of the world; take all those, give them names and then apply them to the divinity and then you reach some idea of the divinity. That is one path which Dionysius recommends.

The other path is different. Here he says: you will never attain the divinity if you give it only a single name, for the whole soul-process which you employ to find perfections in things and to seek their essences, to combine them in order to apply the whole to divinity, all this never leads to what one can call knowledge of a divinity. You must reach a state in which you are free from all that you have known of things. You must purify your consciousness completely of all that you have experienced through things. You must no longer know anything of what the world says to you. You must forget all the names which you are accustomed to give to things and translate yourself into a condition of soul in which you know nothing of the whole world. If you can experience this in your soul-condition, then you experience the nameless which is immediately misunderstood if one attaches any name to it. Then you will know God, the Super-God in His super-beauty. But the names Super-God and super-beauty are already disturbing. They can only serve to point towards something which you must experience as nameless, and how can one deal with a character who gives us not one theology but two theologies, one positive, one negative, one rationalistic and one mystic? A man who can put himself into the spirituality of the time out of which Christianity was born can understand it quite well. If one pictures the course of human evolution even in the first Christian centuries as the materialists of to-day do, anything like the writings of the Areopagite appears more or less foolishness or madness. In this case they are usually simply rejected. If, however, one can put oneself into the experience and feeling of that time, then one realizes what a man like the Areopagite really wanted—at bottom only to express what countless people were striving for. Because for them the divinity was an unknowable being if one took only one path to it. For him the divinity was a being which had to be approached by a rational path through the finding and giving of names. But if one takes this one way one loses the path. One loses oneself in what is as it were universal space void of God. And then one does not attain to God. But one must take this way, for otherwise one can also not reach God. Moreover, one must take yet another way, namely, the one that strives towards the nameless one. By either road alone the divinity cannot be found, but by taking both one finds the divinity at the point where they cross. It is not enough to dispute which of the roads is the right one. Both are right, but each taken alone leads to nothing. Both roads when the human soul finds itself at the crossing lead to the goal. I can understand how some people of to-day who are accustomed to what is called polemics recoil from what is here advanced concerning the Areopagite. But what I am advancing here was alive in those men who were the leading spiritual personalities in the first Christian centuries, and continued traditionally in the Christian-philosophical movement of the West to the time of Albertus Magnus and Thomas Aquinas. For instance, it was kept alive through that individual whose name I mentioned yesterday, Scotus Erigena, who lived at the court of Charles the Bald. This Scotus Erigena reminds one forcibly of what I said yesterday. I told you: I have never known such a meek man as Vincenz Knauer, the historian of philosophy. Vincenz Knauer was always meek, but he began to lose his temper when there was mention of Plotinus or anything connected with him; and Franz Brentano, the able philosopher, who was always conventional became quite unconventional and abusive in his book Philosophies that Create a Stir—referring to Plotinus. Those who, with all their discernment and ability, lean more or less towards rationalism, will be angry when they are faced with what so to speak poured forth from the Areopagite to find a final significant revelation in this Scotus Erigena. In the last years of his life he was a Benedictine Prior, but his own monks, as the legend goes—I do not say it is literally true, but it is near enough—tortured him with pins till he died, because he introduced Plotinism even in the ninth century. But his ideas survived him and they were at the same time the continuation of the ideas of the Areopagite. His writings more or less disappeared till later days; then ultimately they reappeared. In the twelfth century Scotus Erigena was declared a heretic. But that did not mean as much then as it did later or does to-day. All the same, Albertus Magnus and Thomas Aquinas were deeply influenced by the ideas of Scotus Erigena. That is the one thing which we must recognize as a heritage from former times when we wish to speak of the essence of Thomism.

But there is another thing. In Plotinism, which I tried to describe to you yesterday with regard to its Cosmology, there is a very important presentation of human nature which is derived from a material/super-material view. One really regains respect for these things if one discovers them again on a background of spiritual science. Then one admits at once the following: one says, if one reads something like Plotinus or what has come down to us of him, unprepared, it looks rather chaotic and intricate. But if one discovers the corresponding truths oneself, his views take on a quite special appearance, even if the method of their expression in those times was different from what it would have to be to-day. Thus, one can find in Plotinus a general view which I should describe as follows:

Plotinus considers human nature with its physical and psychic and spiritual characteristics. Then he considers it from two points of view, first from that of the soul's work on the body. If I spoke in modern terms, I should have to say: Plotinus says first of all to himself; if one considers a child that grows up in the world, one sees how that which is formed as human body out of the spiritual-psychic attains maturity. For Plotinus everything material in man is, if I may use an expression to which I trust you will not object, a “sweating out” of the spiritual-physic, a “crustation” as it were of the spiritual-psychic. But then, when a human being has grown to a certain point, the spiritual-psychic forces cease to have any influence on the body. We could, therefore, say: at first we are concerned with such a spiritual-psychic activity that the bodily form is created or organized out of it. The human organization is the product of the spiritual-psychic. When a certain condition of maturity has been reached by some part of the organic activity, let us say, for example, the activity on which the forces are employed which later appear as the forces of the memory, then these forces which formerly have worked on the body, make their appearance in a spiritual-psychic metamorphosis. In other words, that part of the spiritual-psychic element which had functioned materially, now liberates itself, when its work is finished, and appears as an independent entity: a mirror of the soul, one would have to call it if one were to speak in Plotinus' sense. It is extraordinarily difficult with our modern conceptions to describe these things. You get near it, if you think as follows: you realize that a human being, after his memory has attained a certain stage of maturity, has the power of remembering. As a small child he has not. Where is this power of remembering? First it is at work in the organism, and forms it. After that it is liberated as purely spiritual-psychic power, and continues still, though always spiritual-psychically, to work on the organism. Then inside this soul-mirror inhabits the real vessel, the Ego. In characteristics, in an idea-content which is extraordinarily pictorial, these views are worked out from that which is spiritually active, and from that which then remains over, and becomes, as it were, passive towards the outer world—so that it takes up, like the memory, the impressions of the outer world and retains them. This two-fold work of the soul, this division of the soul into an active part, which practically builds up the body, and a passive part, derived from an older stratum of human growth and human attitude to the world, which found in Plotinus its best expression and then was taken up by Augustine and his successors, was described in an extraordinarily pictorial manner.

We find this view in Aristotelianism, but rationalized and translated into more physical conceptions. And Aristotle had it in his turn from Plato and again from the same sources as Plato. But when we read Aristotle we must say: Aristotle strives to put into abstract conceptions what he found in the old philosophies. And so we see in the Aristotelian system which continued to flourish, and which was the rationalistic form of what Plotinus had said in the other form, we see in this Aristotelianism which continued as far as Albertus and Thomas a rationalized mysticism, as it were, a rationalized description of the spiritual secret of the human being. And Albertus and Thomas are conscious of the fact that Aristotle has brought down to abstract conceptions something which the others had had in visions. And therefore they do not stand in the same relation to Aristotle as the present day philosopher-philologists, who have developed strange controversies over two conceptions which originate with Aristotle; but as the writings of Aristotle have not survived complete, we find both these conceptions in them without having their connection—which is after all a fact which affords ground for different opinions in many learned disputes. We find two ideas in Aristotle. Aristotle sees in human nature something which brings together into a unity the vegetative principle, the animal principle, the lower human principle, then the higher human principle, that Aristotle calls the nous, and the Scholiasts call the intellect. But Aristotle differentiates between the nous poieticos, and the nous patheticos, between the active and the passive spirit of man. The expressions are no longer as descriptive as the Greek; but one can say that Aristotle differentiates between the active understanding, the active spirit of man, and the passive. What does he mean? We do not understand what he means unless we revert to the origin of these concepts. Just like the other forces of the soul the two points of understanding are active in another metamorphosis in building up the human soul:—the understanding, in so far as it is actively engaged in building up the man, but still the understanding, not like the memory which comes to an end at a certain point and then liberates itself as memory—but working throughout life as understanding. That is the nous poieticos; the factor which in Aristotle's sense, becoming individualized out of the universe, builds up the body. It is no other than the active, bodybuilding soul of Plotinus. On the other hand, that which liberates itself, existing only in order to receive the outer world, and to form the impressions of the outer world dialectically, is the nous patheticos—the passive intellect—the intellectus possibilis. These things, presented to us in Scholasticism in keen dialectics and in precise logic, refer back to the old heritage. And we cannot properly understand the working of the Schoolmen's souls without taking into consideration this intermixture of age-old traditions.

Because all this had such an influence on the souls of the Scholiasts, they were faced with the great question which one usually feels to be the real problem of Scholasticism. At a time when men still had a vision which produced such a thing as Platonism or a rationalized version of it such as Aristotelianism, at a time when the sense of individuality had not yet reached its highest, these problems could not have existed; for what we to-day call understanding, what we call intellect, which had its origin in the terminology of Scholasticism, is the product of the individual man. If we all think alike, it is only because we are all individually constituted alike, and because the understanding is bound up with the individual which is constituted alike in all men. It is true that in so far as we are different beings we think differently; but that is a shade of difference with which logic as such is not concerned. Logical and dialectical thought is the product of the general human, but individually differentiated organization.

So man, feeling that he is an individual says to himself: in man arise the thoughts through which the outer world is inwardly represented; and here the thoughts are put together which in turn are to give a picture of the world; there, inside man, emerge on the one hand representations which are connected with individual things, with a particular book, let us say, or a particular man, for instance, Augustine. But then man arrives at the inner experiences, such as dreams, for which he cannot straightway find such an objective representation. The next step is the experience of pure chimaeras, which he creates for himself, just as here the centaur and similar things were chimaeras for Scholasticism. But, on the other hand, are the concepts and ideas which as a matter of fact reflect on to both sides: humanity, the lion-type, the wolf-type, etc.; these are general concepts which the Schoolmen according to ancient usage called the universals. Yes, as the situation for mankind was such as I described to you yesterday, as one rose, as it were, to these universals and perceived them to be the lowest border of the spiritual world which was being revealed through vision to mankind, these universals, humanity, animality, lion-hood, etc., were simply the means whereby the spiritual world, the intelligible world, revealed itself, and simply the soul's experience of an emanation from the supernatural world.

In order to have this experience it was essential not to have acquired that feeling of individuality which afterward developed in the centuries I have named. This sense of individuality led one to say: we rise from the things of the senses up to that border where are the more or less abstract things, which are, however, still within our experience—the universals such as humanity, lion-hood, etc. “Scholasticism” realized perfectly that one cannot simply say: these are pure conceptions, pure comprehensions of the external world:—rather, it became a problem for Scholasticism, with which it grappled. We have to create such general and universal conceptions out of our individuality. But when we look out upon the world, we do not have “humanity,” we have individual man, not “wolf-hood” but individual wolves. But, on the other hand, we cannot only see what we formulate as “wolf-hood” and “lamb-hood” as it were in such a way as if at one time we have formulated the matter as “agnine” and at another as “lupine,” and as if “lamb-hood” and “wolf-hood” were only a kind of composition and the material which is in these connected ideas were the only reality: we cannot simply assume this; for if we did we should have to assume this also:—If we caged a wolf and saw to it that for a certain period he ate nothing but lambs he is filled with nothing but lamb-matter; but he doesn't become a lamb; the matter doesn't affect it, he remains a wolf. “Wolf-hood” therefore is after all not something which is thus merely brought into contact with the material, for materially the whole wolf is lamb, but he remains a wolf.

There is to-day everywhere a problem which people do not take seriously enough. It was a problem with which the soul in its greatest development grappled with all its fibre. And this problem stood in direct connection with the Church's interests. How this was we can picture to ourselves if we consider the following:—

Before Albertus Magnus and Thomas Aquinas appeared with their special exposition of philosophy, there had already been people, like Roscelin, for example, who had put forward the theory, and believed it implicitly, that these general concepts, these universals are really nothing else but the comprehension of external individual objects; they are really only words and names. And a Nominalism grew up which saw only words in general things, in universals. But Roscelin took Nominalism with dogmatic earnestness and applied it to the Trinity, saying: if something which is an association of ideas is only a word, then the Trinity is only a word, and the individuals are the sole reality—the Father, Son and Holy Ghost; then only the human understanding grasps these Three through a name. Mediaeval Churchmen stretched such points to the ultimate conclusions; the Church was compelled, at the Synod of Soissons, to declare this view of Roscelin partial polytheism and its teaching heretical. Thus one was in a certain difficult position towards Nominalism; it was a dogmatic interest which was linked with a philosophic one.

To-day we no longer take, of course, such a situation as something vital. But in those days it was regarded as most vital, and Thomas and Albertus grappled with just this question of the relationship of the universals to individual things; for them it was the supreme problem. Fundamentally, everything else is only a consequence, that is, a consequence in so far as everything else has taken its colour from the attitude they adopted towards this problem. But this attitude was influenced by all the forces which I have described to you, all the forces which remained as tradition from the Areopagite, which remained from Plotinus, which had passed through the soul of Augustine, through Scotus Erigena and many others—all this influenced the manner of thought which was now first revealed in Albertus and then, on a wide-reaching philosophic basis, in Thomas. And one knew also that there were people then who looked up beyond concepts to the spiritual world, to the intellectual world, to that world of which Thomism speaks as of a reality, in which he sees the immaterial intellectual beings which he calls angels. These are not just abstractions, they are real beings, but without bodies. It is these beings which Thomas puts in the tenth sphere. He looks upon the earth as encircled by the sphere of the Moon, of Mercury, of Venus, of the Sun, and so on, and so comes through the eighth and ninth spheres to the tenth, which was the Empyreum. He imagines all this pervaded by intelligences and the intelligences nearest are those which, as it were, let their lowest margins shine down upon the earth so that the human soul can get into touch with them.

But in this form in which I have just now expressed it, a form more inclined to Plotinism, this idea is not the result of pure individual feeling to which Scholasticism had just fought its way, but for Albertus and Thomas a belief remained that above abstract concepts there was up there a revelation of those abstract concepts. And the question faced them: What reality have, then, these abstract concepts? Now Albertus as well as Thomas had an idea of the influence of the psychic-spiritual on the physical body and the subsequent self-reflection of the psychic-spiritual when its work on the physical body was sufficiently performed: they had an idea of all this. Also they had an idea of what man becomes in his own individual life, how he develops from year to year, from decade to decade precisely through the impressions he receives and digests from the external world. Thus the thought came that though, of course, we have the external world all round us, this world is a revelation of something super-worldly, something spiritual. And while we look at the world and turn our attention to the separate minerals, plants, and animals, we surmise all the same that there lies behind them a revelation from higher spiritual worlds. And if we look at the natural world with logical analysis, with everything of which our soul makes us capable, with all the power of thought we possess, we arrive at those things which the spiritual world has implanted in the natural world. But then we must get clear on this point: we turn our eyes and all the other senses on to this world, and so are in definite relationship with the world. We then go away from it and retain, as it were, as a memory what we have absorbed from it. We look back once more into memory; and then there first appears to us really the universal, the generality of things, such as humanity, and so on; that appears to us first in the inner conceptual form. So that Albertus and Thomas say: if you look back, and if your soul reflects its experiences of the external world, then you have the universals preserved in it. Then you have universals. From all the human beings whom you have met, you form the concept of humanity. If you remembered only individual things you could, in any case, live only in earthly names. But as you do not live only in earthly names, you must experience the universals. There you have the universalia post res—the universals which live in the soul after the things have been experienced. While a man's soul concentrates on things, its contents are not the same as afterwards when it remembers them, when they are, as it were, reflected from inside, but rather he stands in a real relationship to the things. He experiences true spirituality of the things and translates them only into the form of universals post rem.

Albertus and Thomas assume that at the moment when man through his power of thought stands in real relationship with his surroundings, that is, not only with what is “wolf” because the eye sees and the ear hears it, but because he can meditate on it and formulate the type “wolf,” at this moment he experiences something which, though invisible, in the objects, is comprehended in thought independently of the senses. He experiences the universalia in rebus—the universals in things.

Now the difference is not quite easy to define, because we usually think that what we have in the soul as a reflection is the same in the things. But it is not the same in the sense of Thomas Aquinas. That which man experiences as an idea in his soul and explains with his understanding, is the same thing with which he experiences the real, and the universal. So that according to their form, the universals in the things are different from those after them, which remain then in the soul: but inwardly they are the same. There you have one of the scholastic concepts which one does not generally put to the soul in all its subtlety. The universals in things and the universals after things are, as far as content is concerned the same, and differ only in form. But then we must not forget that that which is distributed and individualized in things points in its turn to what I described yesterday as being inherent in Plotinism, and called the actually intelligible world: there again the same contents which are in things and in the human soul after things are, as far as content goes, alike, but different in form; they are contained in another form, but of similar content. These are the universalia ante res, before things. These are the universals as contained in the divine mind, and in the mind of the divine servants—the angelic beings. Thus what was for a former age a direct spiritual-sensory/super-sensory vision becomes a vision which was represented only in sense-images, because what one sees with the super-senses cannot, according to the Areopagite, be even given a name, if one wished to deal with it in its true form: one can only point to it and say: it is not anything such as external things are. Thus what was for the ancient's vision and appeared as a reality of the spiritual world, became for Scholasticism something to be decided by all that acuteness of thought, all that suppleness and nice logic of which I have spoken to you to-day. The problem which formerly was solved by vision, is brought down into the sphere of thought and of reason. That is the essence of Thomism, the essence of Albertinism, the essence of Scholasticism. It realized, above all, that in its epoch, the sense of human individuality has reached its culmination. It sees, above all, all problems in their rational and logical form, in the form, in fact, in which the thinker must comprehend them. Scholasticism grapples chiefly with this form of world-problems, this form of thinking, and thus stands in the midst of the life of the Church, which I illumined for you yesterday and to-day in many ways, if only with a few rays of light. There is the belief of the thirteenth and twelfth centuries; it is to be attained with thinking, with the most subtle logic; on the other side, are the traditional Church dogmas, the content of Faith.

Let us take an example of how a thinker like Thomas Aquinas stands to both. Thomas Aquinas asks: Can one prove the existence of God by logic? Yes, one can. He gives a whole series of proofs. One, for instance, is when he says: We can at first gain knowledge only by approaching the universalia in rebus, by looking into things. We cannot—it is the personal experience of this age—we cannot enter into the spiritual world through vision. We can only enter the spiritual world by using our human powers if we saturate ourselves in things, and get out of them what we can call the universalia in rebus. Then we can draw our conclusions concerning the universalia ante res. So he says: We see the world in movement; one thing always gives motion to another, because it is itself in motion. So we go from one thing in motion to another, and from this to a third thing in motion. This cannot be continued indefinitely, for we must get to a prime mover. But if this were itself in motion, we should have to proceed to another mover. We must, therefore, in the end reach a stationary mover.

And here Thomas—and Albertus comes after all to the same conclusion—reaches the Aristotelian stationary mover, the First Cause. It is inherent in logical thinking to recognize God as a necessary First Being, as a necessary first stationary mover. For the Trinity there is no such path of thought which leads to it. It is handed down. With human thought we can only reach the point of testing if the Trinity is contrary to sense. We find it is not, but we cannot prove it, we must believe it, we must accept it as a content, to which the unaided human intellect cannot rise.

This is the attitude of Scholasticism to the question which was then so important: How far can the unaided human intellect go? And in the course of time it became involved in quite a special way with this deep problem. For, you see, other thinkers had gone before. They had assumed something apparently quite absurd, they had said: it is possible for something to be true theologically and false philosophically. One could say straight out: it is possible for things to be handed down as dogma, as, for instance, the Trinity; yet if one ponders over the same question, one arrives at a contrary result. It is certainly possible for the reason to lead to other consequences than those to which the faith-content leads. And that was so, that was the other thing which faced Scholasticism—the doctrine of the double truth, and it is on this that the two thinkers Albertus and Thomas laid special stress, to bring faith and reason into harmony, to seek no contradiction between rational thought—at any rate, up to a certain point—and faith. In those days that was radicalism, for the majority of the leading Church authorities clung to the doctrine of the double truth, namely, that man must on one side think rationally, the content of his thought must be in one form, and faith could give it him in another form, and these two forms he had to keep.

I believe we can get a feeling of historical development if we consider the fact that people of so few centuries ago, as these are of whom we speak to-day, are wrapped up in such problems with their whole soul. For these things still reverberate in our time. We still live with these problems. How we do it, we shall discuss tomorrow. To-day I wanted to describe the essence of Thomism as it was in those days.

So it was, you perceive, that the main problem in front of Albertus and Thomas was this: What is the relation of the content of human reason to that of human faith? How can that which the Church ordains for belief be, first, understood, and secondly, upheld against what contradicts it? With this, people like Albertus and Thomas had much to do, for the movement I have described was not the only one in Europe; there were all sorts of others. With the spread of Islam and the Arabs other creeds made themselves felt in Europe, and something of that creed which I yesterday called the Manichaean had remained all over the continent. But there was also, for instance, what we know as “Representation” through the doctrine of Averroës from the twelfth century, who said: The product of a man's pure intellect belongs, not specially to him, but to all humanity. Averroës says: We have not each a mind; we each have a body, but not each a mind. A has his own body, but his mind is the same as B has and C has. We might say: Averroës sees mankind as with a single intellect, a single mind; all individuals are merged in it. There they live, as it were, with the head. When they die, the body is withdrawn from this universal mind. There is no immortality in the sense of individual continuation after death. What continues, is the universal mind, that which is common to all men.

For Thomas the problem was that he had to reckon with the universality of mind, but he had to take the point of view that the universal mind is not so closely united with the universal memory in separate beings, but rather during life with the active forces of the bodily organization; and so united, forming such a unity, that everything working in man as the formative vegetable, and animal powers, as the power of memory, is attracted, as it were, during life by the universal mind and disposition. Thus Thomas imagines it, that man attracts the individual through the universal, and then draws into the spiritual world what his universal had attracted; so that he takes it there with him. You perceive, there can be no pre-existence for Albertus Magnus and Thomas, though there can be an after-existence. This was, after all, the same for Aristotle, and in this respect Aristotelianism is also continued in these thinkers.

In this way the great logical questions of the universals join up with the questions which concern the world-destiny of each individual. And even if I were to describe to you the Cosmology of Thomas Aquinas and the natural history of Albertus, which is extraordinarily wide-reaching, over almost all provinces and in countless volumes, you would see everywhere the influence of what I called the general logical nature of Albertinism and Thomism. And this logical nature consisted in this: with our reason—what was then called the Intellect—we cannot attain all heights; up to a certain point we can reach everything through logical acumen and dialectic, but then we have to enter into the region of faith. Thus as I have described it, these two things stand face to face, without contradicting each other: What we understand with our reason, and what is revealed through faith can exist side by side.

What does this really entail? I believe we can tackle this question from very different sides. What have we here before us historically as the essence of Albertinism and of Thomism? It is really characteristic of Thomas, and important, that while he is straining reason to prove the existence of God, he has to add at the same time that one arrives at a picture of God as it was rightly represented in the Old Testament as Jahve. That is, when Thomas departs from the paths of reason open to the individual human soul, he arrives at that unified God whom the Old Testament calls the Jahve-God. If one wants to arrive at the Christ, one has to pass over to faith; the individual spiritual experience of the human soul is not sufficient to attain to Him.

Now in the arguments which Scholasticism had to face (the spirit of the age demanded it), in these theories of the double truth—that a thing could be theologically true and philosophically false—there still lay something deeper; something which perhaps could not be seen in an age in which everywhere rationalism and logic were the pursuit of mankind. And it was the following: that those who spoke of this double truth were not of the opinion that what is theologically revealed and what is to be reached by reason are ultimately two things, but for the time being they are two truths, and that man arrives at these two truths because he has to the innermost part of his soul, shared in the faith. In the background of the soul up to the time of Albertus and Thomas flows, as it were, this question: Have we not assumed original sin in our thought, in what we see as reason in ourselves? Is it not just because reason has fallen from its spirituality that it deceives us with counterfeit truth for the real truth? If Christ enters our reason, or something else which it transforms and develops further, then only is it brought into harmony with that truth which is the content of faith.

The sinfulness of the reason was, in a way, responsible for the thinkers before Albertus and Thomas speaking of two truths. They wanted to take the doctrine of original sin and redemption through Christ seriously. But they had not the thinking power and the logic for it, though they were serious about it. They put the question to themselves: How does Christ redeem in us the truth of the reason which contradicts revealed spiritual truth? How do we become Christians through and through? For our reason is already vitiated through original sin, and therefore it contradicts the pure truth of faith.

And now appeared Albertus and Thomas, and to them it appeared first of all wrong that if we steep ourselves purely logically in the universalia in rebus, and if we take to ourselves the reality in things, we should launch forth in sinfulness over the world. It is impossible that the ordinary reason should be sinful. In this scholastic question lies really the question of Christology. And the question Scholasticism could not answer was: How does Christ enter into human thought? How is human thought permeated with Christ? How does Christ lead human thought up into those spheres where it can coalesce with spiritual faith-content? These things were the real driving force in the souls of the Schoolmen. Therefore, it is before all things important, although Scholasticism possessed the most perfect logical technique not to take the results, but to look through the answer to the question; that we ignore the achievements of the men of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, and look at the large problems which were then propounded. They were not yet far enough to be able to apply the redemption of man from original sin to human thought. Therefore, Albertus and Thomas had to deny reason the right to mount the steps which would have enabled them to enter into the spiritual world itself. And Scholasticism left behind it the question: How can human thought develop itself upward to a view of the spiritual world? The most important outcome of Scholasticism is even a question, and is not its existing content. It is the question: How does one carry Christology into thought? How is thought made Christ-like? At the moment when Thomas Aquinas died in 1274 this question, historically speaking, confronted the world. Up to that moment he had been able to get only as far as this question. What is to become of it, one can for the time being only indicate by saying: man penetrates up to a certain point into the spiritual nature of things, but after that point comes faith. And the two must not contradict each other; they must be in harmony. But the ordinary reason cannot of its own accord comprehend the content of the highest things, as, for example, the Trinity, the incarnation of the Christ in the man Jesus, etc. Reason can comprehend only as much as to say: the world could have been created in Time, but it could also have existed from eternity. But revelation says it has been created in Time, and if you ask Reason again you find the grounds for thinking that the creation in Time is the rational and the wiser answer.

Thus the Scholiast takes his place for all the ages. More than one thinks, there survives to-day in Science, in the whole public life of the present what Scholasticism has left to us, although it is in a particular form. How alive Scholasticism really is still in our souls, and what attitude man to-day must adopt towards it, of this we shall speak tomorrow.

Yesterday I endeavoured at the conclusion of our consideration of Scholasticism to point out how in a current of thought the most important things are the problems which presented themselves in a quite definite way to the human soul, and which, when you think of it, really all culminated in the desire to know: How does man attain the knowledge which is essential to his life, and how does this knowledge join up with that which at the time governed the dispositions of men in a social aspect? How does the knowledge which can be won join up with the contents of faith of the Christian Church in the West? The militant Scholiasts had to deal first of all with human individuality which, as we have seen, emerged more and more, but which was no longer in a position to carry the experience of knowledge up to the point of real, concrete, spirit-content, as it still flickered in the course of time from what survived of Neoplatonism, of the Areopagite, of Scotus Erigena. I have also pointed out that the impulses set in motion by Scholasticism still continued in a certain way. They continued, so that one can say: The problems themselves are great, and the manner in which they were propounded (we saw this yesterday) had great influence for a long time. And, in point of fact—and this is to be precisely the subject of to-day's study—the influence of what was then the greatest problem—the relationship of men to sensory and spiritual reality—is still felt, even if in quite a different form, even if it is not always obvious, and even if it takes to-day a form entirely contrary to Scholasticism. Its influence still lives. It is still all there to a large extent in the spiritual activities of to-day, but distinctly altered by the work of important people in the meantime on the European trend of human development in the philosophical sphere. We see at once, if we go from Thomas Aquinas to the Franciscan monk who originated probably in Ireland and at the beginning of the fourteenth century taught at Paris and Cologne, Duns Scotus, we see at once, when we get to him, how the problem has, so to speak, become too large even for all the wonderful, intensive thought-technique which survived from the age of the real master-ship in thought-technique—the age of Scholasticism. The question that again faced Duns Scotus was as follows: How does the psychic part of man live in the physical organism of man? Thomas Aquinas' view was still—as I explained yesterday—that he considered the psychic as working itself into the physical. When through conception and birth man enters upon the physical existence, he is equipped by means of his physical inheritance only with the vegetative powers, with all the mineral powers and with those of physical comprehension; but that without pre-existence the real intellect, the active intellect, that which Aristotle called the “nous poieticos” enters into man. But, as Thomas sees it, this nous poieticos absorbs as it were all the psychic element, the vegetative-psychic and the animal-psychic and imposes itself on the corporeality in order to transpose that in its entirety—and then to combine living for ever with what it had won, from the human body, into which it had itself entered, though without pre-existence, from eternal heights. Duns Scotus cannot believe that such an absorption of the whole dynamic system of the human being takes place through the active understanding. He can only imagine that the human bodily make-up exists as something complete; that the vegetative and animal principles remain through the whole of life in a certain independence, and are thrown off with death, and that really only the spiritual principle, the intellectus agens, enters into immortality. Equally little can he imagine the idea which Thomas Aquinas toyed with: the permeation of the whole body with the human-psychic-spiritual element*. Scotus can imagine it as little as his pupil William of Occam, who died at Munich in the fourteenth century, the chief thing about him being that he returned to Nominalism. For Scotus the human understanding had become something abstract, something which no longer represented the spiritual world, but as being won by reflection, by observation of the senses. He could no longer imagine that Reality was the product only of the universals, of ideas. He fell back again into Nominalism, and returned to the view that what establishes itself in man as ideas, as general conceptions, is conceived only out of the physical world around him, and that it is really only something which lives in the human spirit—I might say—for the sake of a convenient comprehension of existence—as Name, as words. In short, he returned again to Nominalism.

That is really a significant fact, for we see: Nominalism, as for instance Roscelin expounds it—and in his case the Trinity itself broke in pieces on account of his Nominalism—is interrupted only by the intensive thought activity of Albertus Magnus, Thomas Aquinas, and others, and then Europe soon relapses again into the Nominalism which is really the incapacity of human individuality, ever struggling to rise higher and higher to comprehend as a spiritual reality something which is present in its spirit in the form of ideas; so to comprehend it as something which lives in man and in a certain way also in things. Ideas, from being realities, become again Names, merely empty abstractions.

You see the difficulties which European thought encountered in greater and greater degree when it opened up the quest of knowledge. For in the long run we human beings must acquire knowledge through ideas—at any rate, in the first stages of knowledge we are bound to make use of ideas. The big question must always crop up again: How do ideas enable us to attain reality? But, substantially, an answer becomes impossible if ideas appear to us merely as names without reality. And these ideas, which in Ancient Greece, or, at any rate, in initiated Greece were the final demonstration, coming down from above, of a real spirit world, these ideas became ever more and more abstract for the European consciousness. And this process of becoming abstract, of ideas becoming words, we see perpetually increasing as we follow further the development of Western thought. Individuals stand out later, and for example Leibnitz, who actually does not touch upon the question whether ideas lead to knowledge. He is still in possession of a traditional point of view and ascribes everything to individual world-monads, which are really spiritual. Leibnitz towers over the others because he has the courage to expound the world as spiritual. Yes, the world is spiritual; it consists of a multitude of spiritual beings. But I might say that that particular thing which in a former age, with, it is true, a more distinctive knowledge not yet illuminated by such a logic as Scholasticism had, that moreover which meant in such an age differentiated spiritual individuals, was for Leibnitz a series of graduated spiritual points, the monads. Individuality is saved, but only in the form of the monads, in the form, as it were, of a spiritual, indivisible, elemental point. If we exclude Leibnitz, we see in the whole West an intensive struggle for certainty concerning the origins of existence, but at the same time an incapacity everywhere really to solve the Nominalism problem.

This is particularly met with in the thinker who is rightly placed at the beginning of the new philosophy, in the thinker Descartes, who lived at the opening or in the first half of the seventeenth century. We learn everywhere in the history of philosophy the basis of Cartesian philosophy in the sentence: Cogito ergo sum; I think, therefore I am. There is something of Augustine's effort in this sentence. For Augustine struggles out of that doubt of which I have spoken in the first lecture, when he says: I can doubt everything, but the fact of doubt remains and I live all the same while I doubt. I can doubt the existence of concrete things round me, I can doubt the existence of God, of clouds and stars, but not the existence of the doubt in me. I cannot doubt what goes on in my soul. There is something certain, a certain starting point to get hold of. Descartes takes up this thought again—I think, therefore I am. In such things one is, of course, exposed to grave misunderstandings, if one has to set something simple against something historically recognized. But it is necessary. Descartes and many of his followers—and in this respect he had innumerable followers—considers the idea: if I have a thought-content in any consciousness, if I think, I cannot get over the fact that I do think. Therefore, I am, therefore my existence is assured through my thinking. My roots are, so to speak, in the world-existence, as I have assured my existence through my thought. So modern philosophy really begins as Intellectualism, as Rationalism, as something which wants to use thought as its instrument, and to this extent is only the echo of Scholasticism, which had taken the turning towards Intellectualism so energetically.

Two things we observe about Descartes. First, there is necessarily the simple objection: Is my existence really established by the fact that I think? All sleep proves the contrary. We know every morning when we awake that we must have existed from the evening before to the morning, but we have not been thinking. So the sentence: I think, therefore I am—cogito ergo sum—is in this simple way disproved. This simple fact, which is, I might say, a kind of Columbus' egg, must be set against this famous sentence which found an uncommon amount of success. That is one thing to say about Descartes. The other is the question: What is the real objective of all his philosophic effort? It is no longer directed towards a view of life, or receiving a cosmic secret for the consciousness, it is really turned towards something entirely intellectualistic and concerned with thought. It is directed to the question: How do I gain certainty? How do I overcome doubt? How do I find out that things exist and that I myself exist? It is no longer a material question, a question concerned with the continual results of observing the world, it is a question rather that concerns the certainty of knowledge. This question arises out of the Nominalism of the Schoolmen, which only Albertus and Thomas suppressed for a certain time, but which after them appeared again. And so these people can only give a name to what is hidden in their souls in order to find somewhere in them a point from which they can make for themselves, not a picture or conception of the world, but the certainty that not everything is deception and untruth; that when one looks out upon the world one sees a reality and when one looks inward upon the soul one also sees a reality. In all this is clearly noticeable what I pointed to yesterday in conclusion, namely, that human individuality has arrived at intellectualism, but has not yet felt the Christ-problem. The Christ-problem occurs for Augustine because he still looks at the whole of humanity. Christ begins to dawn in the human soul, to dawn, I might say, on the Christian Mystics of the Middle Ages; but he does not dawn clearly on those who sought to find him by that thought which is so necessary to individuality—or by what this thought would produce. This process of thought as it comes forth from the human soul in its original condition is such that it rejects precisely what ought to have been the Christian idea for the innermost part of man; it rejects the transformation, the inner metamorphosis; it refuses to take the attitude towards the life of knowledge in which one would say: yes, I think and I think first of all concerning myself and the world. But this kind of thought is still very undeveloped. This thought is, as it were, the kind that exists after the Fall. It must rise above itself. It must be transformed and be raised into a higher sphere. As a matter of fact, this necessity has only once clearly flashed up in one great thinker, and that is in Spinoza, follower of Descartes. Spinoza really did make a deep impression on people like Herder and Goethe with good reason. For Spinoza, although he is still completely buried apparently in the intellectualism which survived or had survived in another form from the Scholiasts, still understands this intellectualism in such a way that man can finally come to the truth—which for Spinoza is ultimately a kind of intuition—by transforming the intellectual, inner, thinking, soul-life, not by being content with everyday life or the ordinary scientific life. And so Spinoza reaches the point of saying to himself: This thought replenishes itself with spiritual content through the development of thought itself.. The spiritual world, which we learned to know in Plotinism, yields again, as it were, to thought, if this thought tends to run counter to the spirit. Spirit replenishes thought as intuition. And I consider it is very interesting that this is what Spinoza says: If we survey the existence of the world, how it continues to develop in its highest substance, in spirit, how we then receive this spirit in the soul by raising ourselves by thought to intuition, by being so intellectualistic that we can prove things as surely as mathematics, but in the proof develop ourselves at the same time and continue to rise so that the spirit can come to meet us, if we can rise to this height, then, from this angle of vision we can comprehend the historic process of what lies behind the evolution of mankind. And it is remarkable that the following sentence stands out from the writings of the Jew Spinoza: The highest revelation of divine substance is given in Christ. In Christ intuition has become Theophany, the incarnation of God, and the voice of Christ is therefore in truth the voice of God and the path to salvation. In other words, the Jew Spinoza comes to the conclusion that man can so develop himself by his intellectualism, that the spirit comes down to him. If he is then in a position to apply himself to the mystery of Golgotha, then the filling with the spirit becomes not only intuition, that is, the appearance of the spirit through thought, but intuition changes into Theophany, into the appearance of God Himself. Man is on the spiritual path to God. One might say that Spinoza was not reticent about what he suddenly realized, as this expression shows. But it fills what he had thus discovered from the evolution of humanity with a kind of tune, a kind of undercurrent of sound, it completes his Ethics.

And once more it is taken up by a sensitive human being. We can realize that for somebody who could also certainly read between the lines of this Ethics who could sense in his own heart the heart that lives in this Ethics, in short, that for Goethe this book of Spinoza's became the standard. These things should not be looked at so purely abstractly, as is usually done in the history of philosophy. They should be viewed from the human standpoint, and we must look at the spark of Spinozism which entered Goethe's soul. But actually what can be read between Spinoza's lines did not become a dominating force. What became important was the incapacity to get away from Nominalism. And Nominalism next becomes such that one might say: Man gets ever more and more entangled in the thought: I live in something which the outer world cannot comprehend, a something which cannot leave me to sink into the outer world and take upon itself something of its nature. And so it is that this feeling, that one is so isolated, that one cannot get away from oneself and receive something from the outer world, is already to be found in Locke in the seventeenth century. Locke's formula was: That which we observe as colours, as tones in the outer world is no longer something which leads us to reality; it is only the effect of the outer world on our senses; it is something in which we ourselves are wrapped also, in our own subjectivity. That is one side of the question.

The other side is seen in such minds as that of Francis Bacon in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, where Nominalism becomes such a penetrating philosophy that it leads him to say: one must do away with man's false belief in a reality which is, in point of fact, only a name. We have reality only when we look out upon the world of the senses, which alone supply realities through empiric knowledge. By the side of these, those realities on which Albertus and Thomas have built up their theory of rational knowledge play no longer a really scientific part. In Bacon the spiritual world has, so to speak, evaporated into something which can no longer well up from man's inmost heart with the certainty and safety of a science. The spiritual world becomes the subject of faith, which is not to be touched by what is called knowledge and learning. On the contrary, knowledge is to be won only by external observation and by experiment, which is, after all, only a more spiritual kind of external observation.

And so it goes on till Hume, in the eighteenth century, for whom the connection between cause and effect becomes something which lives only in human subjectivity, which men attribute to things from a sort of external habit. We see that Nominalism, the heir of Scholasticism, weighs down humanity like a mountain. What is primarily the most important sign of this development?

The most important sign is surely this, that Scholasticism stands there with its hard logic, that it arises at a time when the sum of reason is to be divided off from the sum of truth concerning the spiritual world. The Scholiast's problem was, on the one hand, to examine this sum of truth concerning the spiritual world, which, of course, was handed down to him through the faith and revelation of the Church. On the other hand, he had to examine the possible results of man's own human knowledge. The point of view of the Scholiasts overlooked at first the change of front which the course of time and nothing else had made necessary. When Thomas and Albertus had to develop their philosophies, there was as yet no scientific view of the world. There had been no Galileo, Giordano Bruno, Copernicus or Kepler; the forces of human understanding had not yet been directed to external nature. At that time there was no cause for controversy between what the human reason can discover from the depth of the soul and what can be learned from the outer empiric sense-world. The question was only between the results of rational thought and the spiritual truths as handed down by the Church to men who could no longer raise themselves through individual development to this wisdom in its reality, but who saw it in the form handed down by the Church simply as tradition, as Scripture, etc. Does not the question now really arise: What is the relation between the rationalism, as developed by Albertus and Thomas in their theory of knowledge, and the teaching of the natural scientific view of the world? We may say that from now on the struggle was indecisive up to the eighteenth century.

And here we find something very remarkable. When we look back into the thirteenth century and see Albertus and Thomas leading humanity across the frontiers of rational knowledge as contrasted with faith and revelation, we see how they show step by step that revelation yields only to a certain part of rational human knowledge, and remains outside this knowledge, an eternal riddle. We can count these riddles—the Incarnation—the filling with the Spirit at the Sacraments, etc.—which lie on the further side of human knowledge. As they see it, man stands on one side, surrounded as it were by the boundaries of knowledge, and unable to look into the spiritual world. This is the situation in the thirteenth century. And now let us take a look at the nineteenth century. We see a remarkable fact: in the seventies, at a famous conference of Natural Scientists at Leipzig, Dubois-Raymond gave his impressive address on the boundaries of Nature-Knowledge and soon afterwards on the seven world-riddles.

What has the problem now become? There is man, here is the boundary of knowledge; but beyond the boundary lies the material world, the atoms, everything of which Dubois-Raymond says: We do not know what this is that moves in space as material. And on this side lies that which is evolved in the human soul. Even if, compared with the imposing work which shines as Scholasticism from the Middle Ages, this contribution of Dubois-Raymond, which we find in the seventies is a trifle, still it is the real antithesis: there the search for the riddles of the spiritual world, here the search for the riddles of the material world; here the dividing line between human beings and atoms, there between human beings and angels and God. We must examine this gap of time if we want to see all this that crops up as a consequence, immediate or remote, of Scholasticism. From this Scholasticism the Kantian philosophy comes into being, as something important at best for the history of the period. This philosophy, influenced by Hume, still has to-day a hold on philosophers, since after its partial decline, the Germans raised the cry in the sixties, “Back to Kant!” And from that time an uncountable number of books on Kant have been published, and independent Kantians like Volkelt, Cohen, etc.—one could mention a whole host—have appeared.

To-day we can, of course, give only a sketch of Kant; we need only point out what is important in him for us. I do not think that anyone who really studies Kant can find him other than as I have tried to depict him in my small paper Truth and Knowledge. At the end of the sixties and beginning of the seventies of the eighteenth century Kant's problem is not the content-problem of world-philosophy in full force, not something which might have appeared for him in definite forms, images, concepts, and ideas concerning objects, but rather his problem is the formal knowledge-question: How do we gain certainty concerning anything in the outer world, concerning the existence of anything? Kant is more worried about certainty of knowledge than about any content of knowledge. One feels this surely in his Critic. Read his “Critic of Pure Reason,” his “Critic of Practical Reason,” and see how, after the chapter on Space and Time, which is in a sense classic, you come to the categories, enumerated entirely pedantically, only, we may say, to give the whole a certain completeness. In truth the presentation of this “Critic of Pure Reason” has not the fluency of someone writing sentence on sentence with his heart's blood.

For Kant the question of what is the relation of what we call concepts, of what is in fact, the whole content of knowledge to an external reality, is much more important than this content of knowledge itself. The content he pieces together, as it were, from everything philosophic which he has inherited. He makes schemes and systems. But everywhere the question crops up: How does one get certainty, the kind of certainty which one gets in mathematics? And he gets such certainty in a manner which actually is nothing else than Nominalism, changed, it is true, and unusually concealed and disguised—a Nominalism which is stretched to include the forms of material nature, space and time, as well as universal ideas. He says: that particular thing which we develop in our soul as the content of knowledge has nothing really to do with anything we derive from things. We merely make it cover things. We derive the whole form of our knowledge from ourselves. If we say event A is related to event B by the principle of causation, this principle is only in ourselves. We make it cover A and B, the two experiences.

We apply causality to things. In other words, paradoxical though it sounds—though it is paradoxical only historically in face of the vast following of Kant's philosophy—we shall have to say: Kant seeks the principle of certainty by denying that we derive the content of our knowledge from things and assuming that we derive it from ourselves and then apply it to things. This means—and here is the paradox—we have truth, because we make it ourselves, we have subjective truth, because we produce it ourselves. And it is we who instil truth into things. There you have the final consequence of Nominalism. Scholasticism strove with universals, with the question: What form of existence do the ideas we have in ourselves, have in the outer world? It could not arrive at a real solution of the problem which would have been completely satisfactory. Kant says: All right. Ideas are merely names. We form them only in ourselves but we see them as names to cover things; whereby they become reality. They may not be reality by a long way, but I push the “name” on to the experience and make it reality, for experience must be such as I ordain by applying to it a “name.”

Thus Kantianism is in a certain way the expansion of Nominalism, in a certain way the most extreme point and in a certain way the extreme collapse of Western philosophy, the complete bankruptcy of man in regard to his search for truth, despair that one can in any way learn truth from things. Hence the saying: Truth can exist only in things if we ourselves instil it into them. Kant has destroyed all objectivity and all man's possibility of getting down to the truth in things. He has destroyed all possible knowledge, all possible search for truth, for truth cannot exist only subjectively.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is a consequence of Scholasticism, because it could not acquiesce in the other side, where there appeared another boundary to be crossed. Just because there emerged the age of Natural Science, to which Scholasticism did not adapt itself, Kantianism came on the scene, which ended really as subjectivity, and then from subjectivity in which it extinguished all knowledge, sprouted the so-called Postulates—Freedom, Immortality, and the Idea of God. We are meant to do the good, to obey the categoric imperative, and so we must be able to. That is, we must be free, but as we live here in the physical body, we cannot be. We do not attain perfection so that we may carry out the categoric imperative, till we are clear of the body. Therefore, there must be immortality. But even then we cannot realize it as human beings. Everything we are concerned with in the world, if we do what we ought to, can be regulated only by a Godhead. Therefore, there must be a Godhead. Three postulates of faith, whose source in Reality it is impossible to know—such is the extent of Kant's certainty, according to his own saying: I had to annihilate knowledge in order to make room for faith. And Kant now does not make room for faith-content in the sense of Thomas Aquinas, for a traditional faith-content, but for an abstract one: Freedom, Immortality, and the Idea of God; for a faith-content brought forth from the human individual dictating truth, that is, the appearance of it.

So Kant becomes the fulfiller of Nominalism. He is the philosopher who really denies man everything he could have which would enable him to get down to any kind of Reality. This accounts for the rapid reaction against Kant which for example, Fichte, and then Schelling, and then Hegel produced, and other thinkers of the nineteenth century. You need only look at Fichte and see how he was necessarily urged on to an experience of the soul that became more intensive and, one might say, ever more and more mystical in order to escape from Kantianism. Fichte could not even believe that Kant could have meant what is contained in the Kantian Critics. He believed at the beginning, with a certain philosophic naïveté that he drew only the final conclusion of the Kantian philosophy. His idea was that if you did not draw the “final conclusions,” you would have to believe that this philosophy had been pieced together by a most amazing chance, certainly not by a thoughtful human brain. All this is apart from the movement in Western civilization caused by the growth of Natural Science, which enters upon the scene as a reaction in the middle of the nineteenth century. This movement takes no count at all of Philosophy and therefore degenerated in many thinkers into gross materialism. And so we see how the philosophic development goes on, unfolding itself into the last third of the nineteenth century. We see this philosophic effort coming completely to nothing and we see then how the attempt came about, from every possibility which one could find in Kantianism and similar philosophies, to understand something of what is actually real in the world. Goethe's general view of life which would have been so important, had it been understood, was completely lost for the nineteenth century, except among those whose leanings were toward Schelling, Hegel and Fichte. For in this philosophy of Goethe's lay the beginning of what Thomism must become, if its attitude towards Natural Science were changed, for he rises to the heights of modern civilization, and is, indeed, a real force in the current of development.

Thomas could get no further than the abstract affirmation that the psychic-spiritual really has its effect on every activity of the human organism. He expressed it thus: Everything, even the vegetative activities, which exists in the human body is directed by the psychic and must be acknowledged by the psychic. Goethe makes the first step in the change of attitude in his Theory of Colour, which in consequence is not in the least understood; in his Morphology, in his Theory of Plants and Animals. We shall, however, not have a complete fulfilment of Goethe's ideas till we have a spiritual science which can of itself provide an explanation of the facts of Natural Science.

A few weeks ago I tried here to show how our spiritual science is seeking to range itself as a corrective side by side with Natural Science—let us say with regard to the theory of the heart. The mechanico-materialistic view has likened the heart to a pump, which drives the blood through the human body. It is the opposite; the blood circulation is living—Embryology can prove it, if it wishes—and the heart is set in action by the movement of the blood. The heart is the instrument by which the blood-activity ultimately asserts itself, by which it is absorbed into the whole human individuality. The activity of the heart is a result of blood-activity, not vice-versa. And so, as was shown here in detail in a Course for Doctors we can show with regard to each organ of the body, how the realization of man as a spirit-being really explains his material element. We can in a way make real the thing that appeared dimly in abstract form to Thomism, when it said: The spiritual-psychic permeates all the physical body. That becomes concrete, real knowledge. The Thomistic philosophy, which in the thirteenth century still had an abstract form, by rekindling itself from Goethe continues to live on in our day as Spiritual Science.

Ladies and gentlemen, if I may interpose here a personal experience, it is as follows: it is meant merely as an illustration. When at the end of the eighties I spoke in the “Wiener Goethe-Verein” on the subject “Goethe as the Father of a New Aesthetic,” there was in the audience a very learned Cistercian. I can speak about this address, for it has appeared in a new edition. I explained how one had to take Goethe's presentation of Art, and then this Father Wilhelm Neumann, the Cistercian, who was also Professor of Theology at Vienna University, made this curious remark: “The germ of this address, which you have given us to-day, lies already in Thomas Aquinas!” It was an extraordinarily interesting experience for me to hear from Father Wilhelm Neumann that he found in Thomas something like a germ of what was said then concerning Goethe's views on Aesthetics; he was, of course, highly trained in Thomism, because it was after the appearance of Neo-Thomism within the Catholic clergy. One must put it thus: The appearance of things when seen in accordance with truth is quite different from the appearance when seen under the influence of a powerless nominalistic philosophy which to a large extent harks back to Kant and the modern physiology based on him. And in the same way you would find several things, if you studied Spiritual Science. Read in my Riddles of the Soul which came out many years ago, how I there attempted as the result of thirty years' study, to divide human existence into three parts, and how I tried to show there, how one part of the physical human body is connected with the thought and sense organization; how the rhythmic system, all that pertains to the breathing and the heart activity, is connected with the system of sensation, and how the chemical changes are connected with the volition system: the attempt is made, throughout, to recover the spiritual-psychic as creative force. That is, the change of front towards Natural Science is seriously made. After the age of Natural Science, I try to penetrate into the realm of natural existence, just as before the age of Scholasticism, of Thomism—we have seen it in the Areopagite and in Plotinus—human knowledge was used to penetrate into the spiritual realm. The Christ-principle is dealt with seriously after the change of front—as it would have been, had one said: human thought can change, so that it really can press upwards, if it discards the inherited limitation of knowledge and develops through pure non-sensory thought upward to the spiritual world. What we see as Nature can be penetrated as the veil of natural existence. One presses on beyond the limit of knowledge, which a dualism believed it necessary to set up, as the Schoolmen set up the limit on the other side—one penetrates into this material world and discovers that this is in fact the spiritual world, that behind the veil of Nature there are in truth not material atoms, but spiritual beings. This shows you how progressive thought deals with a continued development of Thomism in the Middle Ages. Turn to the most important abstract psychological thoughts of Albertus and Thomas. There, it is true, they do not go so far as to say concerning the physical body, how the spirit or the soul react on the heart, on the spleen, on the liver, etc., but they point out already that the whole human body must be considered to have originated from the spiritual-psychic. The continuation of this thought is the task of really tracing the spiritual-psychic into each separate part of the physical organization. Philosophy has not done this, nor Natural Science: it can only be done by a Spiritual Science, which does not hesitate to bring into our time thoughts, such as those of the high Scholiasts which are looked upon as great thoughts in the evolution of humanity, and apply them to all the contributions of our time in Natural Science. It necessitates, it is true, if the matter is to have a scientific basis, a divorce from Kantianism.

This divorce from Kantianism I have attempted first in my small book Truth and Science, years ago, in the eighties, in my Erkenntnistheorie der Goetheschen Weltanschauung, and then again in my The Philosophy of Spiritual Activity. Quite shortly and without consideration for the fact that things, when they are cursorily presented appear difficult, I should like to put before you the basic ideas to be found in these books. They start from the thought that truth cannot directly be found, at any rate in the observed world which is spread round about us. We see in a way how Nominalism infects the human soul, how it can assume the false conclusions of Kantianism, but how Kant certainly did not see the point with which these books seriously deal. This is, that a study of the visible world, if undertaken quite objectively and thoroughly leads to the knowledge that this world is not a whole. This world emerges as something which is real only through us. What, then, caused the difficulty of Nominalism? What gave rise to the whole of Kantianism? This, the visible world is taken and observed and then we spread over it the world of ideas through the soul-life. Now there we have the view, that this idea-world is to reproduce external observations. But the idea-world is in us. What has it to do with what is outside? Kant could answer this question only thus: By spreading the idea-world over the visible world, we make truth.

But it is not so. It is like this. If we consider the process of observation with an unprejudicial mind, it is incomplete, it is nowhere self-contained. I tried hard to prove this in my book Truth and Science, and afterwards in aThe Philosophy of Spiritual Activity. As we have been placed in the world, as we are born into it, we split the world in two. The fact is that we have the world-content, as it were, here with us. Since we come into the world as human beings, we divide the world-content into observation, which appears to us from outside, and the idea-world which appears to us from the inner soul. Anyone who regards this division as an absolute one, who simply says: there is the world, here am I—such a one cannot cross at all with his idea-world to the external world. The matter is this: I look at the visible world, it is everywhere incomplete. Something is wanting everywhere. I myself have with my whole existence arisen out of the world, to which the visible world also belongs. Then I look into myself, and what I see thus is just what is lacking in the visible world. I have to join together through my own self, since I have entered the world, what has been separated into two branches. I gain reality by working for it. Through the fact that I was born arises the appearance that what is really one is divided into two branches, outward perception and idea world. By the fact that I am alive and grow, I unite the two currents of reality. I work myself to reality by my acquiring knowledge. I should never have become conscious if I had never, through my entry into the world, separated the idea-world off from the outer world of perception. But I should never find the bridge to the world, if I did not bring the idea-world, which I have separated off, into unity again with that which, without it, is no reality.

Kant seeks reality only in outer perception and does not see that the other half of this reality is in us. The idea-world which we have in us, we have first torn from external reality. Nominalism is now at an end, for now we do not spread Space and Time and ideas, which are only “Nomina” over our external perception, but we return to it in our knowledge what we took from it on entering into our earth existence.

Thus is revealed to us the relation of man to the spiritual world in a purely philosophical form. And he who reads my The Philosophy of Spiritual Activity, which rests entirely on the basis of this knowledge-theory of the nature of reality, of this transference of life into reality through human knowledge, he who takes up this basis, which is expressed already in the title of Truth and Science, that real science unites perceptions and the idea-world and sees in this union not only an ideal but a real process; he who can see something of a world-process in this union of the perception and idea-worlds—is in a position to overthrow Kantianism. He is also in a position to solve the problem which we saw opening up in the course of Western civilization, which produced Nominalism and in the thirteenth century threw out several scholastic lights but which finally stood powerless before the division into perception and idea-world.

Now one approaches this problem of individuality on ethical ground, and hence my The Philosophy of Spiritual Activity has become the philosophy of reality. Since the acquisition of knowledge is not merely a formal act, but a reality-process, ethical, moral behaviour appears as an effluence of that which the individual experiences in a real process through moral fantasy as Intuition; and there results, as set forth in the second part of my The Philosophy of Spiritual Activity, the Ethical Individualism, which in fact is built upon the Christ-impulse in man, though this is not expressed in the book. It is built upon the spiritual activity man wins for himself by changing ordinary thinking into what I called “pure thinking,” which rises to the spiritual world and there produces the stimulus to moral behaviour. The reason for this is that the impulse of love, which is otherwise bound to the physical man, becomes spiritualized, and because the moral ideals are borrowed from the spiritual world through the moral phantasy, they express themselves in all their force and become the force of spiritual love. Therefore, the Philistine-Principle of Kant had to be resisted. Duty! thou exalted name, that knowest nothing of flattery, but demandest strict obedience—against this Philistine-Principle, against which Schiller had already revolted, the The Philosophy of Spiritual Activity had to set the “transformed Ego,” which has developed up into the spheres of spirituality and up there begins to love virtue, and therefore practises virtue, because it loves it of its own individuality.

Thus we have a real world-content instead of something which remained for Kant merely a faith-content. For Kant the acquisition of knowledge is something formal, for the The Philosophy of Spiritual Activity, it is something real. It is a real process. And therefore the higher morality is linked to a reality—but a reality to which the “Wertphilosophen” like Windelband and Rickert do not attain at all, because they do not see how what is morally valuable is implanted in the world. Naturally those people who do not regard the process of knowledge as a real process, also fail to provide an anchorage for morality in the world, and arrive, in short, at no kind of Reality-Philosophy. The philosophical basic principles of what we call here Spiritual Science have really been drawn from the whole course of Western philosophical development. I have to-day tried really to show you how that Cistercian Father was not altogether wrong, and in what way the attempt lies before us to reconcile the realistic elements of Scholasticism with this age of Natural Science through a Spiritual Science, how we laid stress on the transformation of the human soul and with the real installation of the Christ-impulse into it, even in the thought-life. The life of knowledge is made into a real factor in world-evolution and the scene of its fulfilment is the human consciousness alone—as I explained in my book, Goethe's Philosophy. But this, which is thus fulfilled is at the same time a world-process, it is an occurrence in the world, and it is this occurrence that brings the world, and us within it, forward. So the problem of knowledge takes on quite another form. Now our experience becomes a factor of spiritual-psychic development in ourselves. Just as magnetism functions on the shape of iron filings, so there functions on us that which is reflected in us as knowledge; it functions at the same time as our form-principle, and we grow to realize the immortal, the eternal in ourselves, and the problem of knowledge ceases to be merely formal. This problem used always, borrowing from Kantianism, to be put in such a way that one said: How does man come to see a reproduction of the external world in this inner world? But knowledge is not in the least there for the purpose of reproducing the external world, but to develop us, and such reproduction of the external world is a secondary process.

In the external world we suffer a combination in a secondary process of what we have divided into two by the fact of our birth, and with the modern problem of knowledge it is exactly as when a man has wheat or other products of the field and examines the food value of the wheat in order to study the nature of the principle of growth. Certainly one can become a food-analyst, but what function there is in wheat from the ear to the root, and still further, cannot be known through the chemistry of food values. That investigates only something which follows the continuous growth which is inherent in the plant.

So there is a similar growth of spiritual life in us, which strengthens us, and has something to do with our nature, just like the development of the plant from the root through the stem, through the leaf to the bloom and the fruit, and thence again to the seed and the root. And just as the fact that we eat it must not affect the explanation of the nature of plant growth, so also the question of the knowledge-value of the growth-impulse we have in us may not be the basis of a theory of knowledge; rather it must be clear that what we call in external life knowledge is a secondary result of the work of ideas in our human nature. Here we come to the reality of that which is ideal; it works in us. The false Nominalism and Kantianism arose only because the problem of knowledge was put in the same way as the problem of the nature of wheat would be from the point of view of bio-chemistry.

Thus we can say: when you once realize what Thomism can be in our time, how it springs up from its most important achievement in the Middle Ages, then you see it springing up in its twentieth century shape in Spiritual Science, then it re-appears as Spiritual Science. And so a light is already thrown on the question: How does it look now if one comes and says: We must go back to Thomas Aquinas, he must be studied, possibly with a few critical comments, as he wrote in the thirteenth century. We see what it means sincerely and honestly to take our place in the chain of development which started with Scholasticism, and also what it means to put ourselves back into the thirteenth century, and to overlook everything that has happened since then in the course of European civilization. This is, after all, what has really happened as a result of the Papal Encyclical of 1879, which enjoins the Catholic clergy to regard the philosophy of Thomas Aquinas as the official one of the Catholic Church. I will not here discuss the question: Where is Thomism? for one would have to discuss, ladies and gentlemen, the question: Is the rose which I have before me, best seen if I take no notice of the bloom, and only dig into the earth, to look at the roots, and overlook the fact that from this root something is already sprung—or if I look at everything which is sprung from this root?

Well, ladies and gentlemen, you can answer that for yourselves. We experience all that which is of value among us as a renewal of Thomism, as it was in the thirteenth century, by the side of all that which contributes honestly to the development of Western Europe. We may ask: Where is Thomism to be found to-day? One need only put the question: What was Thomas Aquinas' attitude to the Revelation-content? He sought a relationship with it. Our need is to adapt ourselves to the revelation-content of Nature. Here we cannot rest on dogma. Here the dogma of experience, as I wrote already in the eighties of last century, must be surmounted, just as on the other side must the dogma of revelation. We must, in fact, revert to the spiritual-psychic content of man, to the idea-world which contains the transformed Christ-principle, in order again to find the spiritual world through the Christ in us, that is, in our idea-world. Are we then to rest content to leave the idea-world on the standpoint of the Fall?

Is the idea-world of the Redemption to have no part? In the thirteenth century the Christian principle of redemption could not be found in the idea-world; and therefore the idea-world was set off against the world of revelation. The advance of mankind in the future must be, not only to find the principle of redemption for the external world, but also for human reason. The unredeemed human reason alone could not raise itself into the spiritual world. The redeemed human reason which has the real relationship with Christ, this forces itself upward into the spiritual world; and this process is the Christianity of the twentieth century,—a Christianity strong enough to enter into the innermost recesses of human thinking and human soul-life.

This is no Pantheism; this is none of those things for being which it is to-day calumniated. This is the most serious Christianity, and perhaps you can see from this study of Thomas Aquinas' philosophy, even if in certain respects it was bound to digress into the realm of the abstract, how seriously Spiritual Science concerns itself with the problems of the West, how Spiritual Science always will stand on the ground of the Present, and how it can stand on no other, whatever else can be brought against it.

These remarks have been made to demonstrate that a climax of European spiritual evolution took place in the thirteenth century with High Scholasticism, and that the present age has every reason to study this climax, that there is a vast amount to be learnt from such a study, especially with regard to what we must call in the highest sense the deepening of our idea-life; so that we may leave all Nominalism behind, so that we may find again the ideas that are permeated with Christ, the Christianity which leads to the spiritual Being, from whom man is after all descended; for if man is quite honest and open with himself, nothing else can satisfy him but the consciousness of his spiritual origin.

Dearly beloved! Ours is a time of doubt and mystery that are given to humanity. And one can say that it is good for anyone who, in their innermost being, can honestly and with strength say to themselves in the face of present-day events: Yes, for me this time is a time of doubt, of mystery and of questions that need to be answered. — For if he could not say this to himself and yet looked with an alert soul at the events of the time, there would actually only be the other pole for him: despair at the continuation of human civilization in the West. And if our time holds hidden doubts, questions and riddles that need to be resolved, then we need the strength of those people who can find their way in the present chaos of civilization and who can bring forth from the flood of questions and riddles that which can lead to a new progress, to a building up of our Western civilization. Everything that is undertaken from this Goetheanum wants to contribute to the forces that time needs so that the doubts and riddles can be resolved in human souls.

In such a time of questions and riddles, the necessity will also arise for much of the content of ancient tradition to appear in a new light. Now shines up to us — as it were, like an ancient sacred legacy of Greek culture — the oft-repeated Apollonian saying: Know thyself! And much of Western civilization since ancient Greek times has been influenced by this saying. But it seems to me that even such a seemingly rock-solid magic word in the development of mankind can only survive today, in our times of great transformation, if it undergoes a kind of transformation itself, absorbing the forces of our time. And so it seems to me that the ancient oracle of Delphi must now sound to people as follows: Know thyself, and become a free being! — We must be able to see world events, insofar as they relate to human beings, swinging back and forth between the two poles of self-knowledge and true human freedom.

Why did Greek wisdom write the significant words on the temple at Delphi: “Know Thyself”? To this Greek wisdom there shone forth, from ancient times, historically undefinable in its origins, an ancient, sacred wisdom and science. The origins of this science go back into the darkness of prehistoric times. In Egypt, people still had direct access to this ancient wisdom. In Greece, people only had a feeling for it, albeit one steeped in noble Greek humanity, and they felt that this wisdom had come to people from the world, from the world itself, which was full of wisdom. Within the world of wisdom, man had felt like a more or less instinctive, more or less unconscious link in the whole of the world. Then, in the Greek feeling, the sense of the independence of the human soul dawned. In addition to the old world knowledge, the self-knowledge of man should be striven for. The ancient wisdom was based on the motto: Know the world and, in the world, know man! This motto of ancient wisdom shone forth in Greek civilization. But the urge to strive for this knowledge of the world with man in it, to strive for independent human self-knowledge, now asserted itself. To the: Know the world! was added: Know thyself. The Greek stood as it were on the shore of the past, absorbing the full content of the past treasures of wisdom. We – and I believe that any impartial person can feel this – stand on a different shore. We stand on the shore of an indeterminate future, but a future that humanity must create in a spiritual sense. And we feel that we need a new motto to help us reflect with all our human strength on what can work from within us into the indefinite future as a creative force. On the shore of the past, the Greeks established the motto: Know Thyself! — On the shore of an indefinite future, we must establish the motto: Become a free being! This building and everything that is done in it is intended to speak about that which lies in the oscillation between the two poles of human contemporary tasks. The short series of presentations of knowledge and art that are to take place in the next few days also intend to speak about this. We stand at the starting point of the great scientific mystery. Humanity has not yet experienced the full courage within itself to face this great, mighty scientific riddle. Natural science has achieved great and mighty things. It has adopted a way of looking at things through which one of the events that our souls see in the chain of causes and effects is necessarily followed by the other. And it is natural science's most natural endeavor to include the human being in this chain of natural necessity. The great ideal of natural science is to study natural phenomena with this law of causation, to perceive them — in accordance with their essence — according to this law of causation, and thus also to understand from man what is to be understood from him according to this law of causation. One does not yet fully understand with living feeling what this striving, this ideal, actually means for human life.

If we completely absorb ourselves in what we, through correct knowledge of nature, take in as the world necessity, then we ourselves, with our consciousness, stand in this world necessity, then we must say to ourselves: everything that is experienced in ourselves is only one link in the chain of necessities. But when we have acquired such an awareness through a proper immersion in the scientific view of life, then our innermost being revolts against this feeling, then an experience that shines through our soul speaks against this feeling, then we say to ourselves: as a human being I am free and I must grasp my freedom, with my knowledge I must penetrate just as much into the fabric of natural phenomena as into the life of my freedom.

If we take up this inner riddle of freedom in the full sense of the word, then we come to say to ourselves: The significant knowledge, the development of which has been going on for the last three to four hundred years and which has so significantly illuminated nature, needs to be extended in order to also illuminate the experience of human freedom. For those would always appear justified who, out of the scientific consciousness of the present, have said and continue to say: We can only comprehend nature; we cannot help but stop short of comprehending human freedom. We must repeat the old Kantian saying: To make room for faith, we must destroy knowledge. Yes, as long as we are immersed in mere knowledge of nature, this saying is true. But then comes the rebellion of human consciousness. And it is precisely in the proper appreciation of the greatest scientific achievements of modern times that the urge must arise to know, to recognize the experience of human freedom. And this knowledge must at the same time be an experience. For, starting from it, we must carry the strength that we gain from it out into social life, which today presents us with no fewer riddles and questions than the life of knowledge and belief. Just as the riddles and questions of knowledge and faith are lived out in the lonely room in inner struggles of the soul, so the other riddles and questions, the social ones, work tumultuously through the world because they are not worked on by human forces that, out of a clear consciousness of freedom, out of a consciousness of freedom experienced in knowledge, know how to work against what surrounds us today as social chaos.

Only those who penetrate the riddle of freedom with living knowledge are capable of bringing the power of harmonious human coexistence into social life. Because in recent centuries we have lost this power precisely by penetrating into the depths of external events, we now live in social chaos. Light will only dawn in this chaos when we step into it with the inner strength that comes from knowing how to see through the riddle of freedom. Just as the ancient Greek once stood questioning before all that an ancient wisdom handed down to him, standing questioning before: Know the world! — and passed over to the: Know thyself! —then we must stand questioning today before the saying: Man, become a free being!

Between these two poles of human activity, between the pole where the Greek sage threw into the multitude of thinkers and unbiased minds the word: Know thyself! - and the other pole, which expresses itself in the words: Man, become a free being! - lies, at bottom, an episode of human development.

It is tangible how an episode of human development lies between these two poles. Take the most modern of people, from whom this School of Spiritual Science borrows its name, Goethe. He found himself in the then already dawning and pressing modern life, sensing it in a time when most still lived fully in the traditions of the old. How did it affect Goethe's soul on the one hand in terms of true knowledge, and on the other hand in terms of true art, and in art in his case also in terms of religious deepening, of religious inwardness? All these impulses surged through his soul – which at that time were actually noticed only by him, at most by some of his friends, but which have since emerged into general human life – all these impulses tend towards the social life grasped in freedom. And when he felt strongly enough what lived in him like the dawn of a new era, he turned his back on the Nordic world and went to the south to sense from what remained of ancient Greek culture what the deepest essence of that Greek culture was. This modern man, Goethe, had wanted to build the wide-spanned bridge in his own soul across the episode between the future tasks of modern humanity and the comprehensive résumé of the past, as it was drawn in Greek culture.

And does not that which Goethe so vividly portrayed in his own personality live today in every human being who wants to strive upwards to that sphere where the great questions of the world can come to meet him in their true forms? Do not those who devote themselves to our education still draw from Greek culture that which should give this education its formal foundation? Is not the heart and mind of those who are educated in our grammar schools still imbued with Greek? We must feel this episode as Goethe felt it, first tragically and then redemptively for humanity. But then we shall also understand how we must turn to the other pole, the pole of human self-knowledge, in a new way, how we must approach it in the moment of world-historical development when the word resounds from our deepest innermost being: Man, become a free being! — also the: Know thyself! — differently than the Greek approached it.

Let us look around us, especially at those who have immersed themselves with all their soul in the modern scientific world view, who have become so great on its soil. We see how man, in observation as well as in experiment, through which so many puzzles have been solved for modern man, immerses himself in material existence. And we should listen more attentively than we are accustomed to to such a saying as was uttered by a Du Bois-Reymond, for example, out of this modern consciousness: where matter haunts, human knowledge can do nothing! — Modern knowledge has become accustomed to penetrating material existence. It has achieved great things in this field. Everywhere it follows how the material world is structured in material phenomena. But in order to decipher the fabric of material phenomena, it must presuppose that which it can never penetrate if it remains on its own ground: the world of matter itself.

It is a long story of what has taken place between the pursuit of human knowledge and the mystery of matter. What has taken place in the theoretical field is of little interest to us at this moment. But attention must be drawn to what has remained as a residue in the human mind, in all human life. No matter how much one believed that one was walking on mere paths of knowledge when dealing with material phenomena, no matter how much one established, by presupposing matter as such, a basis of feeling in the depths of the soul that permeates all human life. And we have such a basis of feeling. We can see it in the best of our contemporaries. They struggle with the material riddle; they wrestle with this material riddle. And a good number of them could not help but rise above this struggle and admit that the human riddle cannot be found, cannot be solved in this way, not even in a relative sense. And yet this solution is necessary for the security of the human soul. One would now like to get to the true essence of man “in the inner being of man”, but one has become accustomed to thinking and feeling one's mind on the outside world, “which cannot be seen through”, on the “conditions of material existence”. What one has become accustomed to doing there renounces seeing through. And if one turns this mind, which renounces seeing through, inwards, then one becomes a mystic in the modern bad sense.

Unfortunately, all too few people realize today that the best ones, who turn away from our knowledge of nature and come to a striving for knowledge of the human interior, have acquired their habits of thinking and feeling by observing “which is inscrutable”, and now they carry into the human interior what they have acquired as habits of thinking and feeling by observing the outside world. But when we turn our gaze, which we have first trained on dark and gloomy “matter”, inwards, it becomes nebulous mysticism, and nebulous mysticism bars the door to the knowledge of ourselves!

This is what everything that is done within this School of Spiritual Science seeks to emphasize. We must avoid the path of nebulous mysticism, as well as the path that leads only to outer scientific necessity and thus to the destruction of the knowledge of freedom. We can avoid these paths only if we seek real spiritual science, not that spiritual science which dare not stop short before the human soul, and which then, having stopped, continues the path by casting mystical fog into this human soul. This spiritual science, as it is meant here, must not do this! With the training that has been gained in bright, clear, light-filled knowledge of external facts, it must be possible to shine a light into the human interior, free of mysticism but in a spiritual scientific way. The: Know Thyself! must not be grasped in a mystical, dark way of life, but in a bright, clear clarity. Then will be united that which springs from man's inner knowledge, from the fulfillment of the word: Know Thyself! — and that which springs from his behavior of recognizing himself in relation to outer nature, under the watchwords: Man, become a free being!

These two words of truth may be seen as two pillars that stand ideally in the spirit when one enters this building: the pillar of truthful, light-filled human self-knowledge and the pillar of human freedom. The first is suited to remind people of that which can provide them with security and support, artistic activity and religious satisfaction. The second is suited to equip them with the strength to contribute to the pressing social issues of the present and the near future. From all that is aimed at here in the fertilization of the individual specialized sciences, as should become particularly apparent in the next few days, the world-historical moment should be grasped, as well as it can be grasped in all modesty, which places us on the shore of an indeterminate future, just as the Greek was placed on the shore of a fulfilled, overwhelming past.

But to do this, we must come to feel the light-filled grasp of the human interior in the knowledge itself, that we no longer merely drag the knowledge from external observation and external experiment, but that we freely raise it and, by permeating it with the inner being of the human being, we place ourselves with this knowledge in the life of freedom, in which mere scientific observation can never place us. From a scientific point of view it is honest to deny freedom, but it is human to protest against this denial and to see in this protest the starting point of a free spiritual science born out of the human soul and its organs.

This spiritual science, because it penetrates not into the dead but into the living, need not be feared as having a deadening effect on art, as does the dead science of the intellect. It will be able to fertilize art with what it draws from the spirit. This knowledge itself will be able to have an artistic effect on the outside, because it descends into human depths in clarity full of light. It will lead from true knowledge to the worship of that which can reveal itself in the human interior. And such knowledge, which only retains the form of mysticism but strives for the light, will at the same time lead human knowledge to religious

worship of the Highest, which lives and moves through the world. New artistic powers and new religious depths will be able to arise out of such knowledge, which grasps the inner being of man. And the life into which such knowledge may enter will be a life in freedom. It will first of all assure man of the consciousness of freedom. Man will no longer need to lose himself in the outer necessities of nature, as he does when he is merely aware of nature scientifically, because this is only a matter of necessity and not of freedom.

And the artist will become free from the mere model in the imitation of external nature, which he can never achieve anyway. From spiritual heights he will draw what he wants to impress on matter. A weak beginning of such a drawing of forms that reveal themselves to the free spirit, that are not linked to imitation in the model, should be what speaks from the forms and the artistic and the other artistic aspects of this structure.

And religious experience should be free from everything that is merely traditional, which approaches the human being as an external, unfree thing: freely grasping what reveals itself as the divine within the human being himself, freely connecting within with that power which, according to its true nature, only truly wants to connect with this human inner being in freedom: the power of Christ.

Knowledge in the most diverse fields – in the outer natural world, in the inner life of man, and in the all-embracing unity of both – that is the new striving for the fulfillment of the word: “Know thyself!” – a threefold step towards freedom: freedom in the inner experience of the most human, freedom in creative work, including artistic work, and freedom in religious experience. That is the other.

The cross-fertilization of the individual sciences and human endeavors, and of all of social life, is intended to lead to this, and will be discussed here over the next few days. It will be shown that not only can certain propositions be derived from the individual sciences, as a modern philosophy that is dying to death would have it, and then pieced together into an abstract world-view, but that a world-view can be gained through spiritual observation that embraces all sense impressions, and that this general world-view, grasped in the light of spirit, can shine into the individual specialized sciences.

It has also been demanded that the world view should draw nourishment from the individual sciences and their results. The time has come when the results of a spiritually experienced world view radiate into the individual sciences. However little the world may realize it today, what happens here in this place should never come from a different tone than the one that is itself impulsed on the one hand by the true: know yourself! - on the other hand from the: man, become a free being! — But this does not only call out to us from the lonely contemplation of science within the human being. This calls out to us in all of our catastrophic time today. And if we summarize what lies deepest in the riddles and questions of the times, that is what I have tried to suggest today.

We may speak in this way to the age about what is given to us by the signs of the times and by the sentient human being who stands within that time. These older people have experienced what it means to live in a catastrophic time. They feel how the ideals of their youth have been lost. They feel how they have poured out into a civilizational chaos what they believed in their youth they were contributing to modern Western civilization. To them, who have experienced such things, we may speak as we have today. For such a word must find the side in the life of the human soul that says: We must still use the rest of our lives to point out to humanity something stronger than what we have done.

And such words may also be spoken to young people. For they still see with full strength what is collapsing, what is living in catastrophe. They can feel, with their full human strength and enthusiasm, that something new and powerful must happen. And the right old person of today will seek out the word that can ignite in youth, so that other times see the souls that look out into the world from the eyes of today's youth, as the souls that look out into the world through today's old eyes must see.

And so one can speak to people of any age. One can speak to those who are called the “old houses” of all kinds in a certain language, and one can speak to young fellow students. Because one can speak not only out of the tasks of the times, but out of the greatest tasks of the human being itself. And we live in a time when the greatest questions of human life have become tasks for our time. We live in a time when we can look into the deepest interior of human beings. And we will see the call to action written there, to act in a direction that we will also find indicated when we look at the outer signs of the time with their clear language.

What lies in this twofold direction of view, I would like to speak about in the next few days. I would like the spoken word to find attention. Because in today's world, to understand the human being means to sense and feel an important thing in human life itself. Only he can rightly and justly place himself in the human activity of our time who is able to say: the signs of the time contain the challenge to look into the depths of the human soul with insight and spiritual recognition. And what the human being can fathom in his or her inner life today is at the same time what the clearly speaking signs of the time challenge us to recognize, feel, will and accomplish.

Rudolf Steiner's opening speech was followed by a lecture by Albert Steffen on “The Becoming of the Work of Art”.

Then Marie Steiner spoke the words of Hilarius, which Rudolf Steiner had already transformed for the opening ceremony of the First School of Spiritual Science: “The Guardian of the Threshold”:

In the name of that spirit which
Announces itself to the souls in our striving,
I appear at this moment
Before people who from now on want to hear
The word that sounds earnestly to the souls here.
Not earlier times could those powers,
that guide the aims of our earthly becoming,
could not reveal themselves in a fully conscious way.
For just as in the child's body,
the powers that are destined to be the vehicles of knowledge
must first gradually mature and grow stronger,
so humanity in its earthly course also had to unfold as a whole.
At first the soul impulses lived in dullness,
which were later to prove worthy of
seeing spiritual light from high worlds.
But when men were wise leaders
In the beginning of the earth, souls devoted to the spirit
Were chosen by higher powers of existence.
They used to send, in the places of knowledge,
The powers of the spirit, the rays of knowledge
Into souls that were only dimly aware
Of their ability to penetrate each other through their vision.
It was only later that spiritual researchers
were able to recruit students from the ranks of humanity
who, through the trials of life, had shown strength of will
proved themselves mature, in the brightness of consciousness,
striving towards spiritual knowledge.
And when the first disciples of the leaders
were later able to cultivate the noble good with dignity,
the unconscious leadership disappeared,
so that free souls were allowed to strive knowingly.
And free souls then chose people
Who were allowed to follow them in the care
Of the treasure of the spirit; and so it went on
From one generation to the next.
All seats of knowledge so far,
Which in truth are, have just arisen
from the highest, which stands in the spiritual spheres.
In earnest seeking we strive here
for the true spiritual human heritage.
We will never speak of knowledge
that does not bear the spirit's own seal,
but only of the light from the spiritual worlds,
which, by beholding, can be opened up to people
Who, aspiring, want to entrust themselves to it
To fathom the depths of their soul.
To strive worthily towards this light
The seriousness of the turn of time
And its need shows us; the signs are truly
Full of meaning, which in the plan of the world
Now clearly reveal spiritual eyes.

The lectures this week are to be arranged in such a way that each day is devoted to a different subject, so that it can be seen what is to be achieved as a fertilization of the individual subject areas and branches of practical life by spiritual science. Today we shall begin with the subject that is most closely related to spiritual science as it is meant here: the subject of philosophy. What I myself will have to say here is intended as a kind of introduction to the questions that will be dealt with in the course of today.

I would like to start from one of the most interesting and even most significant phenomena of recent philosophical development. It is certainly not always the case that the most significant and interesting phenomena are those that are soon recorded in the usual historical works. And so I would like to start from a phenomenon that has yet to be expressed historically, from the whole meaning of a philosophical work published in 1888 by Ludwig Haller, a government councilor and public prosecutor, entitled “All in All: Metalogic, Metaphysics, Metapsychics». I may all the more base myself on this phenomenon in the life of philosophy, as anyone who has followed my own literary career can see that I myself have remained quite uninfluenced by this phenomenon, because that which constitutes my position on philosophy already contained in my writings that appeared before this “Metalogik, Metaphysik, Metapsychik,” and what I said later is only a proper and consistent elaboration of what was contained in my first writings.

Above all, in the prosecutor and government councilor Ludwig Haller, who wrote nothing but the aforementioned work, we encounter a person for whom what is called philosophy is not just a specialized science—although in a certain respect he is thoroughly qualified to engage with this specialized science—but for whom what he presents comes from direct personal philosophical experience. We are dealing with a personality for whom philosophical endeavor has become the most intimate personal experience. And if we go straight to the most significant thing about Ludwig Haller, then we have to note that he is actually at loggerheads with the whole way of philosophical thinking in modern times. He has obviously been around a lot in all kinds of philosophy and also in those works of literature in which “philosophy of life” bubbles. He has familiarized himself with the philosophical thinking of his time and he has found – this is, as I said, his opinion – that with this philosophical thinking one actually goes around in a kind of unreal circle, that with this philosophical thinking one never comes into a position to delve into reality itself.

Ludwig Haller wants to penetrate into spiritual reality with his philosophy, which he, having evidently outgrown more religious ideas due to his education, calls “the divine” or even “God”. In this “divine” or in “God” he seeks the source of all that which, as the actual essence, also lives in the human soul and of which the human soul must also become aware. But he comes to the conclusion that this soul, by processing the conceptual fabric that is customary in his time, cannot penetrate into this center of its being, where it is one with the divine-spiritual of the world.

Since the thought-weaving of philosophers at the end of the 1980s, when the aforementioned work was published, was still influenced by Kant in many ways and thus Kantian thought lived in this thought-weaving, Ludwig Haller felt compelled above all to deal with Kantianism and all that stems from Kantianism. But precisely in all the thoughts in which something Kantian somehow flows in, he saw the unreal, that which can never be immersed in the reality of the world. And he was actually unhappy about the fact that he, because he wanted to speak philosophically in his time, had to deal with this thinking, which was thoroughly infected by Kantianism, that he had to keep coming back to it, to deal with Kantianism. He found very sharp words, first to characterize Kantianism itself, and then also for the having to deal with Kantianism, which he found so unappealing. I would like to share with you two samples from this assessment of Kantianism, so that you can see what a person for whom philosophy is an innermost personal matter struggles with in our times.

On one occasion, Ludwig Haller speaks of Kantianism in such a way that he says of it: the “pseudo-dialectical, half-true, deeply dishonest character of this misosophy, which tries to steal the weapons from the arsenal of light in order to use them in the service of darkness”. On another occasion, he becomes, I might say, literarily enraged that he repeatedly finds himself compelled to deal with Kantian thought because he must engage with his contemporaries , and he says: “I, who could and would like to talk about God and his glory, see myself condemned again and again to talk about Kant and his wretchedness – I, a dandy's dandy.”

I wanted to point out this phenomenon because it is an imprint of the struggles that a truly philosophically inclined nature had to endure at the end of the 19th century. Today, what is meant by philosophical speech and writing is also taken to mean that it is a matter that, so to speak, hovers a bit above people's heads, and that one is not personally involved in it. That is why the inner tragic phenomena of philosophical life are far too little appreciated in our time. And I believe that this phenomenon, which is one of the most tragic inner philosophical experiences of our age, is actually quite unknown in wider circles.

Those who are truly familiar with the intellectual life of our time know how much of such moods has been lived in people of our age. And actually, if one wants to explain the essence of philosophical thought in our time, one must speak precisely of these phenomena, which are not considered by the philosophical experts, but which are all the more important for the actual human experience.

Now, building on this phenomenon, I would like to characterize another one that is basically also only a subjective, personal philosophical experience, so to speak. The philosopher Eduard von Hartmann, who became better known as Ludwig Haller, dealt with Ludwig Haller. In this discussion, one point is of particular importance. Ludwig Haller, who makes a lot of work for himself, as you saw, he calls himself “a dandy dandy” because of this making-a-lot-of-work-for-himself, with the introduction into the Kantian-infected thought-weaving of his time, of our age - he he feels, namely, by going from concept to concept with his thinking, by abandoning himself to philosophical thinking, which can be clearly seen to permeate his book from cover to cover — he feels that the concepts he is now following with his thinking take on a remarkable inner life. It is as if the concepts in his mind began to lead an independent life. He emphasizes this in the most diverse places in his “Metalogic, Metaphysic, Metapsychic”.

If we want to explore this interesting phenomenon from a psychological perspective, we cannot do other than say the following: Ludwig Haller puts all his energy into the particular nature of contemporary philosophical thinking. But his inner human experience actually wants something different; he cannot come to this other because in the 1880s there was not even a trace of a truly modern spiritual science. What could fill this human inner life with real spiritual science is lacking. But I would like to say that he lives in it in a strangely instinctive, unconscious way. He is unaware of this, but he notices from this strange phenomenon that the world of concepts comes to life for him and leads an independent life.

Anyone who is able to conduct research in the sense of the spiritual science represented here is very familiar with this independent life of concepts. But they can also master it. They can master it in the sense that one can master the transition from one mathematical concept to another mathematical concept in the ordinary process of mathematization. But this mastery must be achieved through inner practice. It is quite natural that one enters into a life that is very far removed from ordinary consciousness when one suddenly notices – something that otherwise only the food in our organism does, that they lead their own life in digestion without our intervention – that the absorbed concepts begin to lead their own inner life. It is not incomprehensible, but very, very understandable, that a philosopher like Eduard von Hartmann, who was indeed brilliant, who also achieved something quite penetrating in some areas, but who had completely outgrown the philosophical thinking of his time, could not do anything special with this experience of Ludwig Haller. And when Eduard von Hartmann writes his critique of Ludwig Haller, one notices that on the one hand he feels quite queasy. What is to become of it, the modern philosopher asks himself, when the concepts to which I devote myself suddenly begin to dance like goblins within me, to embrace each other or the like? That is something terrible, one cannot expose oneself to it! And so, as a true contemporary philosopher, he also offers this criticism in a very significant way by saying that he never noticed anything of this playful, goblin-like activity of concepts that have come to life independently.

We can readily believe Eduard von Hartmann when he says that he felt this inner sultriness when reading Ludwig Haller's “Metalogik, Metaphysik, Metapsychik”. However, as his critique shows, this did not stop him from reading the whole book, and in a sense he even found it very significant. I believe that many others who have been professionally involved with philosophy in the period since 1888 have hardly got beyond the first pages of this book, if they have even seen the title page!

What I am pointing out to you is a very significant phenomenon. And we can only understand it if we follow the philosophical development of the West as I have tried to do in my book “The Riddles of Philosophy”. If we go into what I have explained in detail there with reference to the history of philosophy, and what I can only hint at here, we see that in the age of Greek philosophy the whole human soul was different from what it later became and especially from what it is in our time. We see how in Greek philosophizing, what we call thinking, what we call imagining, is linked in a similar way to the conditions of the external world, insofar as it presents itself to man, as for us only the qualities of sensory perception. When we perceive, we ascribe, at least in naive consciousness, the sensual qualities to what we perceive. Certainly, the epistemological discussions since Locke and others think differently, but they need interest us less at this moment; I want to refer only to naive consciousness for the fact that has been brought up. In this naive consciousness, one attributes the sensory qualities red, blue, white, warm, cold, lukewarm, sweet, bitter, etc., to things, and today it is clear that what one thinks and imagines about sensory objects is separated from the objective in the process of becoming conscious, that it is experienced subjectively. But the Greeks attributed their thinking, their ideas, to the object just as we attribute red, blue, sweet, bitter and so on to the object; they had what they experienced in knowing, to an even greater extent, so to speak, in perceiving than we have. They were fully aware that they perceived the conceptual content at the same time as the red, green and so on.

And what emerged in the most logical way in Greek thought, I would say, was basically a peculiarity of the general enquiring consciousness right up to the 13th, 14th, 15th centuries, up to the Galilei-Copernicus period. Anyone who delves into what has come to light in scientific achievements, which, after all, were still one and the same with philosophical research for that time, anyone who delves into the corresponding literature, insofar as it exists, will say that these older researchers and thinkers, when they talk about things, still describe the objective aspects of things, whereas today's researchers think entirely separately from things and ascribe them to the subject.

One can follow, and this pursuit is extraordinarily interesting, how in the age of scholasticism, philosophical life takes the direction of becoming clear about how what we call thinking in concepts may still be thought of as connected to the objective. Before the scholastic age, the connection between what is experienced as an idea and concept in things was self-evident. This connection only became a question, a mystery, when the conceptual and the imaginative were separated from what is called objective perception in human experience. And it was out of this philosophical experience that scholasticism arose, the problem of which should be studied much more thoroughly today than it is studied, the problem of 'realism' and 'nominalism'. Today, these words conjure up completely different ideas than they did in the scholastic era. In the age of scholasticism, a realist was, for example, Ihomas of Agquino, who attributed an objective reality to concepts and ideas, so that he said: Concepts and ideas have something objective in their content, something that does not merely belong to the subject, that is not merely thought. A nominalist was someone who sought reality only in that which lies outside the conceptual, who saw in the concepts only something by which man summarizes what is given to him as perception, so that for the nominalist, the concepts were mere names.

Such a problem always arises in the development of humanity when something is experienced inwardly. In the Middle Ages, people had to undergo this inwardly, that they became more and more familiar with the conceptual life in their own inner being, that they saw what is called the external world only in the perceptible. Hence the question arose for him: How can one justify relating to external perceptions in some way that which one basically has only as a name within oneself, which one grasps only by associating it with external perceptions? A significant skepticism emerges from nominalism.

And basically, what then emerged in Kantian philosophy is nothing other than, I would say, the last consequence of this scholastic problem. It is just that Kant arrived at his formulation of the scholastic problem in a peculiar way: in the age in which Kant, as a young man, was pursuing his philosophical studies, a somewhat diluted Leibnizianism prevailed in the circles in which Kant was pursuing his studies. Leibnizianism, which is something great in its own way, albeit somewhat abstract, and which still has a connection to the spirit of reality, was philosophically sublimated and diluted in Wolffianism, which formed the stage of Kant's youth. During this time, people were already dealing with the demands of mathematizing science, with the demands of science, which is precisely composed of the results of external observation of the world. But out of the old habit that man has something to say when something is being determined about the world, one had established the broad doctrine of reason alongside this empirical science, alongside this science of experience. It was decreed that uncertain judgments can be gained through experience, through empiricism, about everything that is transitory; but these judgments are directed only at the transitory and are uncertain. One cannot know whether what one recognizes through observation and intellectual knowledge about any fact of the transitory world must necessarily be so for all time. We cannot even know that the sun must rise every morning, because we have only the one piece of empirical evidence that it has risen every morning so far. From this we can conclude that it will also rise in the future; but it is just an empirical conclusion. Beyond this empirical science, Wolffianism, and Kant in his youth, were looking for a rational science, in complete harmony with Wolffianism. It is characteristic that one of Wolff's books is called: “Rational Thoughts about God, the World, and the Soul of Man, and about All Things in General.”

So the aim was, on the one hand, to gain empirical knowledge about the world, insofar as it is accessible to experience, and, on the other hand, to gain rational knowledge that extends over everything, which, so to speak, is to be gained from reason alone. And so, alongside, say, revealed theology, a rational, a rational theology was established, alongside empirical psychology a rational psychology, alongside the knowledge of the world gained through experience, a rational geology, and so on. The underlying reason for this search for a particular science of reason was that people said: there is no certainty for scientific research in an external world. But if one wants to have such certainty, it can only be gained by deriving it from reason itself.

However, the whole research of Wolffianism is still based on the fact that a reality has first been placed in this reason, from which man then derives his “truths of reason”, in some transcendent way.

In Kant's work, two things occurred, and anyone who studies Kant with an open mind will be sharply reminded of what emerges in his work from two sides: on the one hand, he had become accustomed to searching for “certain judgments”. For example, he had said to himself: in mathematics we have such judgments that always apply quite necessarily, that cannot come from experience because experience does not give rise to such judgments. We also have such judgments in some areas of scientific thought, which are valid forever, and which can only be gained from the human being itself. There must be certainty in philosophy. That was one side of what Kant wanted. And anyone who does not grasp how firmly Kant stood on the ground: there must be certainty — also in the sense of Wolffian philosophy — does not understand Kant, because he cannot engage with Kant's insistence on the certainty of certain judgments.

But Kant had become disillusioned with Wolffianism, in terms of its content, through his study of Hume, the English philosopher who wanted to be a mere philosopher of experience. And he said to himself, precisely under the influence of Hume: there is no such thing as spinning a reality out of reason; there is actually only experience. — That was the second side.

On the one hand, there must be certainty; but everything that appears in experience, which is the only basis for real knowledge, does not provide certainty. How can we escape from this dilemma? And the very compulsive search to escape from this dilemma is basically the main impulse of Kantian thinking. I have presented this in detail in my writing “Truth and Science” and have further illuminated it in my “Philosophy of Freedom.” Kant's search did not actually lead to the recognition of anything essential, but to the question: How do you achieve absolute certainty?

Kant's problem is not a problem of truth, nor of knowledge, but of certainty. And if you don't grasp it as a problem of certainty, you can't really understand it. Kant seeks the solution by saying: the human soul is certainly not suited to distilling judgments of reality out of reason, but these judgments do come about; they are applied to external experience, as can be seen, for example, in mathematics. We do not merely look at such figures (it is drawn), but we look at them mathematically and say: there are two triangles or, drawn differently, it is a hexagon. We mix what we spin out of reason inwardly with what comes to us through external experience. We impose what we recognize inwardly a priori over what we experience a posteriori.

Thus Kant came to say: Knowledge of truth cannot be gained from reason. But human reason is applied to experience. It imposes its judgment on external experience. It itself makes its judgment on external experience. Because Kant said: There must be certainty in philosophy, one must be able to find certainty, but one does not find it by searching in a Wolffian way, by believing that one can gain a reality in reason and let experience run alongside – because Kant could not could not bring it together, so he said: Man spins out of his reason that which experience then takes up; man makes knowledge himself; the things of experience are therefore certain and certain to the extent that we make them certain out of our minds.

You see, actually the essence of knowledge is dethroned. Actually, knowledge is eliminated. And it is eliminated in such a subtle way that the Kantians still adhere to this subtlety today and do not realize what is actually involved. When someone like Ludwig Haller comes along and feels how Kantian thinking has actually lost touch with reality, how it snaps at certainty in the unreal, then he finds words like the ones I have shared with you. He finds that human ingenuity is being applied to an impossible problem, to a problem that does not shed light on knowledge but shrouds it in fog. That is why Ludwig Haller says, as he feels it: This misosophy tries to steal its weapons from the arsenal of light and use them in the service of darkness.

But on the other hand, one must also recognize how this whole development of modern times was basically necessary. The development of human thinking and human research since Greek times was not a line of development that can only be followed in the way I have just done, but can also be followed in another direction. I also pointed this out in my book 'Riddles of Philosophy'. Today, we have a knowledge of nature that attempts to understand natural phenomena purely in terms of their essence.

It may be said, however, that the very knowledge of nature which today always prides itself on understanding natural phenomena purely, hardly succeeds in understanding natural phenomena purely, that is, in no longer penetrating them with the web of thoughts of that which is only made in the concept, inwardly subjectively. — All kinds of hypotheses are still being put forward about the external course of phenomena, not only justified ones but also unjustified ones.

But one person did emphasize in modern times, and relatively early on, that in terms of observing external natural processes, this modern age must strive towards the pure phenomenon, towards pure phenomenology. And that person was Kant's opposite number, Goethe. He demanded that phenomena and appearances express themselves purely. He emphasized that what takes place in the development of understanding must remain completely separate from what is presented as a description of phenomena and of the phenomenal process itself. And in the most stringent and admirable way, Goethe repeatedly demands this pure phenomenalism.

But the more one strives towards this pure phenomenalism, the more one must strive for a special peculiarity of the conceptual world. And this peculiarity of the conceptual world is also highly achieved. This peculiarity is thoroughly justified for a certain age of human development. Anyone who, since the age of Cartesius, has not limited himself to studying philosophy, but who has an organ for also entering into the good sides of

of scholastic philosophy and medieval philosophy, and who does not see Aristotle and Plato through the spectacles of modern philosophers and historians of philosophy, but can place them before his soul in their original form, he knows that the way in which the world of concepts and ideas lives in the human soul is quite different today than it was in ancient Greece and even in the scholastic Middle Ages. In the scholastic Middle Ages, the soul still felt that, in experiencing the concept, there was something substantial in this concept, just as there is still something substantial in the red and blue that one perceives. Only in recent times has the concept become a complete image. Only in recent times has the concept been completely emptied of its content. Only in recent times has it become possible in the development of humanity and in philosophy to do what I have called pure thinking in my “Philosophy of Freedom”.

If one tries to eavesdrop on the problem of freedom, as I attempted in my “Philosophy of Freedom,” one simultaneously becomes acquainted with this modern character of thinking. One becomes acquainted with a thinking that is basically emptied of all external experiential content. It is brought up on this external experiential content, but lives only as subjective fact.

It is just as true to say of this pure thinking, and I made this clear in the new edition of my Philosophy of Freedom, that it takes place in the realm of the will. But the will has been transformed into thinking, as it were. It is the result of the kind of thinking that has stripped away all external experience. This pure thinking is only an image, and is entirely an image. And if one is at all to arrive at a philosophical understanding in our age, one must reach the soil in which this pure thinking is found.

Goethe sensed what lies in this pure thinking. Others can only feel it with him. That is why they always quote a Goethe saying incorrectly, which says something like that the kind God has saved him from “thinking about thinking”. As Goethe meant it, it is already correct. Goethe never “thought about thinking” because, admittedly, one cannot achieve this pure thinking with the thinking that one has become accustomed to. One must look at it as an image. So that one can say: the thinking itself that one wants to recognize, pure thinking, becomes a looking at this pure thinking. Pure thinking can be achieved not dialectically but vividly. One arrives at this point in philosophical development at the problem of freedom, which is why freedom, real freedom, is not possible at all without attaining this pure thinking, which is a mere image.

As long as a reality within us motivates our actions, our actions cannot be free. Therefore no instinctive action, no traditional action, no action under a habit is really free, but only an action that can follow the images that weave in pure thinking. As soon as you follow a reality, you are pushed. If you want to be free, you must include the unreal in your will. When you bump into something, you feel that the object has an effect on you. When you perform an act under an instinct, under an urge, you must feel that there is something pushing, that there is no freedom. But when you stand in front of a mirror, see the image in the mirror, you will be clear about the fact that the mirror image can never give you a slap in the face, that the mirror image can never push you. The image cannot do anything on its own. It is he who must act, who must act when he confronts this image. But since the image does nothing, the act then becomes a free act. Only a thinking that is not rooted in reality, but is pure image, can motivate a free act. That is why the problem of freedom is the problem of modern thinking, of pure thinking. But in this thinking, one is standing in a world of images.

Modern philosophy, everything that lives in this modern philosophy through Kant and the Kantians, comes instinctively, although it usually does not understand this pure thinking, to this pure thinking. When one begins to think in modern times and trains one's thinking in natural science, which claims all authority for itself and would be real natural science, real science of reality, if it stuffed anything else into us than mere images, one must, when one moves one's thinking in this direction, first approach an unreal. In the thinking through whose peculiarities we are passing with our modern philosophical and scientific development, we have no reality; we have only an image of reality. And in looking at this thinking, we come on the one hand to the problem that concerns the newer epistemologists. They would like to build a bridge from what is inwardly experienced to what outwardly exists in being. They do not realize that they are not building a bridge from one reality to another, but from something that lives in images to something that is supposed to be reality.

And on the other hand, we come to the point where conscientious natural philosophers admit to themselves: with this unrealistic thinking, with this thinking that is absorbed in the pictorial character, we cannot immerse ourselves in reality. The point “where matter haunts” cannot be reached. Because one weaves in pictures. Modern philosophy weaves in images, is unaware of it, and seeks reality in these images. Hence the feeling of a “misosophy” in Ludwig Haller, hence the feeling that one cannot enter into reality if one moves in this thinking.

That is the problem of the more recent development of philosophy: that human history must necessarily drift towards a pure comprehension of unreal pictorial thinking. For the sake of the development of freedom, modern humanity had to rise to this unreal pictorial thinking. But one cannot remain in it if one is a fully human being, if one feels reality in all human beings. For one must feel the contradiction between what is pressing and living and weaving in the human being, and what stands before consciousness as a mere environment of unreal images. We are not dealing with a merely logical or formal problem, but with a real one, which has arisen because man has gradually withdrawn his thinking, his imagining, from external reality.

In the external world there remains for him the dark, obscure matter that he cannot grasp. But his thinking has not become a reality, it has become an image. And he must go further in this image. Thinking, which today is a mere image, was still the content of perception for the Greeks. This thinking has moved in the direction from outside in. It proceeds in such a way that man first submerges into the outer world by thinking. Now, with his philosophizing, he has reached the point where he is weaving in the thinking that has been peeled from the outer world. He must continue in this direction. He must seek reality again. Matter has given man in ancient times and up to our age the support for thinking by making thinking real for him. But thinking, because it had to become the basis for the development of human freedom, has passed into the pictorial character. Thus it hovers between external experience and inner experience. It must submerge into this inner experience. It must in turn become reality. Man must plunge with full consciousness into the regions where Eduard von Hartmann and with him all modern philosophers feel so sultry, because thoughts seem to begin to dance like goblins.

When the human being with his thinking goes out of the pictorial character – where, if he weaves and lives in it, because they are only images, he does not need to be so sultry – when he steps out and enters into his own reality, then, through the exercises of spiritual science, he must indeed include the possibility in his inner abilities to move around in this self-life of the conceptual world, as otherwise in mathematical thinking. He must acquire the ability to grasp reality independently in this self-life. Just as we do not feel stifled when things out there in space do not stand still — lest our knowledge be disturbed — but when they move, run, so man must, in the ascent to spiritual explanation, to spiritual revelation, become capable of giving his image-concept a content again.

If one grasps the actual, pressing philosophical life of the present at this point, then one comes away from all the talk that the philosopher cannot understand what the spiritual researcher is saying. He can understand it as soon as he has understood the pictorial character of his thinking, but also as soon as he has understood that thinking has come to this pictorial character because it moves in world history from the outside in, from the direction of the spirit in matter to the contemplation of the pure spiritual world.

In this way, philosophy must be continued by receiving it from spiritual science, from spiritual research, by immersing thinking in what spiritual science, spiritual research, has to say. This is what I wanted to show you, even if only in a sketchy way with a few lines: in what way philosophy is to be fertilized by spiritual science. In the next few days, we will talk about how other branches of human thought and action can be fertilized by this spiritual science.

Closing words on the occasion of the disputation on philosophy

In the course of the disputation, questions arose that naturally required a broad discussion from a technical point of view. Since we cannot discuss everything in one evening, I would just like to make a few methodological suggestions regarding the questions that arose and that, at least in my opinion, were not formulated very clearly. These suggestions point in the direction in which certain solutions to such questions must be sought.

In view of such questions as, for example, that of the “subjectivity of perception”, there is a lot of confusion of ideas in the most recent philosophical development, an accumulation of concepts that tend to obscure and tangle the problems rather than to illuminate them and lead to a certain solution.

For when one wishes to raise questions concerning the relation between object and subject in perceiving in terms of representation and knowledge, it is always a matter of arriving at the questions by means of the most careful analysis of the facts. For often the questions themselves are wrongly formulated from misconceived ideas. And so it is often the case with questions about the “subjectivity of perception”.

The difficulty was indicated by the example of the partially color-blind person, who is assumed to see a, say, green landscape differently than the so-called normal-sighted person. The difficulty lies in this idea of the partially color-blind person: to what extent must one ascribe subjectivity to what the so-called normal-sighted person, I say quite explicitly, the so-called normal-sighted person, sees?

Well, the first thing to do is to present the whole problem in such a way that it appears correct. “Correct” means that the way in which the elements that have to be brought together to form the problem, that this how of bringing together is done in the right way. Just suppose someone says: Yes, the external world, which appears to me, say, in a green landscape with a green tint, gives me cause to reflect on whether the quality “green” is objective, whether I can ascribe it to the world of objectivity, or whether it must be addressed as subjective. In order to even formulate the problem, one must consider such things as, for example, this: Yes, how does it actually behave when I look at something that is white or yellow, for my sake, through green glasses? There we see it tinged green. Is that now to be ascribed to the sphere of objectivity, or must one speak of subjectivity here? We will soon realize that we certainly cannot ascribe this green, which I see through green glasses, to what is out there. We cannot speak of objectivity in relation to the external environment. But it will certainly not be possible to say that this green tint, which I have seen through green glasses, is based on something subjective. It is objectively determined in a perfectly lawful way, without what I am designating here as green actually being green.

You see, by forming this idea, I am putting the problem in a special light, where I have to consider that which certainly does not belong to the external world, but objectively, as having arisen in an objective way; because the glasses do not belong to me, so they certainly cannot be included in the sphere of subjectivity. Such things might even appear to be sophistry. And yet such sophistries are very often what leads one to put the elements that are supposed to lead one to the questions in the appropriate way, to bring them together. For if one sees through such apparent sophistries in the right way, one will see through the whole threadbareness of the everyday concepts of “subject” and “object”, which have gradually been introduced into modern philosophical reflection. And if one gets into the right line of questioning, one will probably be led more and more to the path that I believe in, which I have taken in my writings “Truth and Science” and “Philosophy of Freedom,” where one does not take the starting point from the concepts of “subject” and “object”, but seeks something independently of these concepts that must lie beyond the sphere of subjectivity and objectivity: that is the function of thinking.

The function of thinking! If you look at the matter independently, thinking actually appears to go beyond the subjective and the objective. And with that, you have gained a starting point from which you can then be led in the appropriate way to where the problem of “subjectivity” and “objectivity”, which presents such difficulties, is at stake. For one is led—and you will find this path thoroughly followed in these two books of mine—not to ask: How does an external “objective” world affect some “subjective” world, for which, say, the mediator is the eye? —but one is led to something quite different. One is led to ask: What is the fact of the senses themselves? What essence does one sense show? For example, the constitution of the eye?

One will then find that in the problem one sets oneself in this way, something comes to light that I want to make clear through a comparison, because I have to be brief – it could, of course, be encompassed with the adequate concept in an explanation lasting hours: I can also look through a pair of glasses and still see the world around me as the naive consciousness perceives it, with its color tinglings, with all its sensory qualities. I must only look through colorless transparent glasses; I must not look through glasses that change the outer world itself for me. And I must now find my way into the difference between glasses that change the outer tinting and glasses that are colorless and transparent and avoid any outer tinting. From this comparison – as I said, long-winded considerations could be used instead of the comparison – I will find: if I take the structure of the so-called normal eye, I have given it a structure that proves to be transparent, that can be compared to the transparent-colorless glass. I find nothing in the normal eye that indicates that the external world is qualitatively changed in any way. But I must not conduct this investigation with the ordinary concepts that I have in everyday consciousness, but with the imaginative consciousness that can truly penetrate the structures of the eye.

For the imaginative consciousness, a so-called normal eye is a transparent organ. An eye that is partially colorblind proves to be comparable to colored glasses for the imaginative consciousness, as something that does, however, make a change in the “subject”.

Thus, by conceiving of subjectivity in a higher sense, one comes precisely to regard the sensory apparatus in the broadest sense as that which can be compared to the transparent, which is precisely designed in such a way that it suspends the production of sensory qualities within itself. One learns to recognize as pure fantasy the idea that in this ideationally transparent sensory apparatus – which is precisely arranged in such a way that it cancels out any production of the sense qualities within itself – something could arise that would first evoke sense qualities, that would be there for something other than the sense qualities.

As I said, I only want to point in this direction. And at the same time, I want to point out that ordinary philosophizing should be aimed at saying: the facts of the world, when examined without prejudice, show me results that are simply insoluble for ordinary mind-consciousness; the facts themselves show me that I must go beyond this ordinary mind-consciousness. It is not honest to conclude, let us say, from the fact of partial color blindness that color qualities are subjective. For every such conclusion contains some logical error that can always be somehow demonstrated. It would be honest to say: one simply does not come to any result with ordinary philosophizing if one wants to solve the difficulty that arises from the comparison of partial color blindness with the vision of the so-called normal eye. The usual consciousness has the task, at this point, of presenting the difficulties and saying, “There they are.” And if one were to become truly aware of the scope of logic, of real-logical thinking within consciousness, one would, I might say, find problems lying everywhere and say, There is one more, insoluble for ordinary consciousness, the second, the third --- and would be glad that in many respects ordinary philosophy is nothing more than a hint at problems and a creation of an atmosphere of waiting for these problems to be solved from a higher level of consciousness. It is only the urge to come to terms with ordinary consciousness that spreads a fog over the problems and does not want to admit that one can only raise the problems with it and that one must point out that the human soul must now undergo a development and exercises to solve these problems. The law of specific sensory energies is certainly not something that can be dealt with within ordinary consciousness.

As I said, I only wanted to point out the main point of the discussions on the subject of colors, and to point out that, above all, philosophy and also philosophical physiology, philology and so on, in the present day would need a very conscientious delineation of what they actually bring before ordinary consciousness through their thinking.

This is the one thing I would like to draw attention to, as I said, quite inadequately. It should only point in one particular direction; but more cannot be done in such a short discussion.

The second point I would like to make – again, purely from a methodological point of view – is the problem of categories that arises here. Of course, one could talk for hours about the categorial nature of human thought, but I would like to point out just one thing for now: within the actual table of categories, “subjectivity” and “objectivity” do not appear at all. And the fact that within the actual category table, the actual, the original category table, “subject” and “object” do not occur at all, this in itself constitutes a kind of proof of the essence of categorical thinking: if one takes the categories in the way not as they arise from some sort of proof, but simply, I might say, as they are derived from logic, then, by dint of being posited, they must be applicable to that which is above 'subjective' and 'objective'. That to which the categories are applicable must be supersubjective and superobjective. But the fact that the categories are applied by man himself is a clear proof that in categorical thinking there is not a subjective, but a subjective-objective.

This is the problem that Goethe also thought about so much. And the way he thought, which led him to always seek out the point where subjectivity and objectivity disappear for the human being in human experience, this endeavor actually made him the opposite of Kant.

Of course it is perfectly true that, as has been said, one could also work out of Kant in a positive sense; but one can work out of everything in the world in a positive way, even out of the greatest error! For there is nothing in the world from which one cannot also extract something positive. We have this positivity, this seeking out of the positive, listed among the basic exercises for those who want to attain higher knowledge. I need only remind you: you will find it discussed in the second part of my “Occult Science”. Of course, this should not blind us to the recognition of aberrations. And finally, if we consider the historical, we can say that a great deal has been worked out positively from Kant. There are not only the critical Kant philologists, not only the neo-Kantians of the likes of Liebmann, Volkelt and so on, but there is the very active Marburg School – Cohen, Cassirer, Dilthey and so on – which tried to work out the positive from Kant in a certain sense.

Now, I have shown how little this 'positive elaboration from Kantianism' can lead to a realistic view: in my 'Riddles of Philosophy', where I also briefly discussed these efforts of the Marburg School. So it is also the case with the category problem that it is necessary to present it correctly in its entire inner essence before the soul in order to see how, precisely through the category problem, the question of the “subjective” in contrast to the “objective” cannot be posed as it has been done by more recent philosophy under the influence of Kantianism. This almost epistemological harnessing to subjectivity is something that has introduced countless unjustified ideas into our modern philosophy and caused us to lose ideas that were already there and that, if developed in a correspondingly straight line, could have led to something quite fruitful.

I must repeatedly draw attention to the fact – which I have already done several times – that an extraordinarily talented 19th-century philosopher, Franz Brentano, published the first volume of his “Psychology” in 1874. It is basically an ingenious book. This volume of Brentano's “Psychology” was published in the spring of 1874. He promised the second volume for the fall of the same year. The three following volumes were then to appear shortly thereafter. Brentano had initially calculated this “psychology from an empirical point of view” to consist of five volumes. The first volume was only a preparation. In it, however, there is a highly remarkable passage in which Brentano indicates how he was in fact aiming at the most significant psychological problems. He says: If all modern thinking should lead only to the examination of how representations arise and fade away, how they associate with each other, how memory is formed, and the like, and if one could only come to uncertainty about about the actual psychological questions of Plato and Aristotle, for example, whether the soul remains when its external physical body decays, then one would not have gained much for the needs of man through modern science! Well, from everything else that Brentano suggests in the first volume of his “Psychology from an Empirical Point of View,” one can already see how he wanted to bring the problem through his five volumes to these fundamental questions of Plato and Aristotle.

The strange thing is that the second volume did not appear in the fall. It did not appear the next year either. And in the nineties, Brentano promised once again that he would now set about creating at least a kind of surrogate in a kind of descriptive psychology. So the second volume of “Psychology” was supposed to appear in 1874. Nothing appeared until the nineties; then a second promise appeared, but was not fulfilled! Franz Brentano died in Zurich a few years ago. The promise has not been fulfilled to this day. It has remained with the first volume of “Psychology from an Empirical Point of View.” Why? Because Brentano, in his Privatdozentenschrift, posited the sentence, “Philosophy has to follow the same methods that are applied in natural science,” because Brentano wanted to remain true to this methodological sentence that he had posited at the time, and with which one could not make any progress. Brentano was much too honest a nature to want to make headway by any other means than by the means of the external scientific method. Therefore, he simply remained silent about what came after the first volume.

I have expressed this in my book “Von Seelenrätseln” (Mysteries of the Soul). Brentano's pupil Kraus has indeed said that there were all sorts of other reasons why Brentano did not publish the later volumes; but it must be said that if the reasons were only those that Kraus pointed out, then Brentano must have been a real philistine. And he certainly was not that. He was a personality who followed the impulses of his inner being and only those impulses! But there was something in Brentano that at least gave him hope that one could penetrate into the things of the world. And basically every such philosopher – and there are few who have had this hope in a well-founded way in modern times – has turned against Kant, and of course Franz Brentano as well.

There was something in him that justified this hope. And I find that in a concept that, I might say, occasionally emerges from Brentano's philosophy, and which he borrowed in the sense of an older philosophy – of the kind that still drew from reality, as I suggested this morning: it is the concept of intentional inwardness, which he applies to the concepts of cognition and perception.

This concept must be formulated. Then, from there, one will get an approximation of what I just hinted at: to examine the extent to which the human sense organ is a self-extinguishing one, to which one must not ascribe that it could be the producer of sense qualities. And this concept – now not of the real interiority of some process, but of intentional interiority – contains within itself the life of pointing, which then becomes observable for the imaginative conceiving. And this life of pointing, which is given with the concept of intentional inwardness, then brings the possibility of grasping what, since Johannes Müller, the physiologist from the first half of the 19th century, has been so inadequately grasped in the doctrine of “specific sensory energies”. So that one would like to say that the comparison with the transparent, colorless glass is not quite appropriate for the reason that one has to imagine not an inanimate colorlessness, thus a self-abolition, but a living and precisely through its liveliness and thereby standing in a corresponding process within, which allows an objective experience by not taking in the objective, but by grasping out of itself the process of pointing through and in pointing to this objective.

I have found what lies in a renewal of this concept of intentional interiority, in the sense of a modern world view, only in some recent American philosophers who—probably even without knowing the concept I have just mentioned—try to grasp the continuity of human consciousness. Let us say, for example, that in the twenty-ninth year of life a person looks back, with the help of memory, on what he went through in the eighteenth year of life. Then, if we grasp it inwardly, what returns to the person in the twenty-ninth year of life is something similar to what could be described as an intentional innesein. And in relation to this process, this concept appears again in some recent American epistemologists.

It is precisely in such phenomena that one can see how conceptual work is alive in contemporary philosophical endeavor. But this work must become honest in the way I have described, by coming to show clearly that problems exist; but ordinary consciousness, ordinary intellectual activity, can only pose the problems; and now one must move on to the solution of the problems. If one were to develop scientific honesty in this way, it would be the basis for moving on to the imaginative and the other stages of knowledge.

These are only very inadequate, methodological suggestions.

If I attempt today to make the transition from the actual philosophical field to the field of the specialized sciences, then in our present epoch this transition is to be accomplished quite naturally through a consideration of the mathematical and physical, chemical, that is, the inorganic natural world , because by far the majority of present-day philosophical conceptions are constructed in such a way that philosophers base them on concepts and ideas gained from the field of science that is considered the most secure today, namely from mathematics and inorganic natural science.

If we wish to discuss the mathematical treatment of inorganic natural science, which is so popular today, we must always remember something that has already been mentioned in the opening speech: the connection that current thinking believes it can make with Kant, precisely with the introduction of mathematics into inorganic natural science, indeed into science in general.

What must be emphasized in this and also in a later context from the negative side, I say expressly from the negative side, has already been noticed by individual thinkers who are very far removed from the use of supersensible knowledge. Thus, the negative, that is, the rejection of the purely mathematical treatment of natural science, can be found, for example, in a thinker like Fritz Mauthner, who, out of a certain acumen in a negative sense, that is, in rejecting what appears as false claims of a false science, is not at all unhappy. And with regard to the question: What can current science not do? – we can learn a lot from a thinker like Fritz Mauthner, learning through the negative that he presents, and learning through the fact that he does not want to stop at this negative, but would like to advance to a positive realization.

Why shouldn't you also learn from such a negative thinker? If I was able to quote Ludwig Haller as saying yesterday that, in his opinion, Kant took the weapons from the arsenal of light to use them in the service of darkness, why should you not also borrow the weapons from the arsenal of darkness, even the deliberate darkness of knowledge as found in Fritz Mauthner, to use them in the service of light?

Attention is to be paid, as I said, to Kant's saying that there is only as much actual science in each individual discipline as there is mathematics in it.

If you study the history of the use of this Kantian saying up to the present day, you get an interesting example to answer the question of how to be a Kantian at all in modern times. For the people who refer to this saying believe that as much real science as there is mathematics in it is brought into every single science. But Kant means something quite different. Kant means: as much as he brings mathematics into science, that much is mathematics, that is, real science, and the rest is not science at all in the individual sciences.

You see, you become a Kantian if you thoroughly misunderstand a Kantian saying. For the Kantian approach in this area has something like the following logic: if I say, in a gathering in which there are a thousand people, there is as much genius in it as three ingenious people have contributed, I certainly do not mean that the thousand people have now been given the genius of the three people. Nor does Kant mean that the rest of science has acquired the scientific character of mathematics; rather, he means that only the small part that has remained mathematics even in the sciences is real science, but the rest is not science at all.

We must study such things seriously – and in an empirical age we must do so empirically, not a priori – so that such questions are not answered as they often are today, but so that we may come upon the truth.

Now, however, one can point out something else: the most outstanding mathematical thinkers of modern times define mathematics something like this: it would be the “science of sizes”. Well, today it is the science of sizes. But go back just a few centuries to the time when Cartesius and Spinoza found great satisfaction in presenting their philosophy “according to a mathematical method,” as they say, and you will find that what Cartesius and Spinoza wanted to bring into their philosophy as a mathematical method is quite different from what is to be brought into natural science as mathematics in more recent times.

If we go back to Descartes and Spinoza, we find that these two philosophers want to construct their philosophical system in such a way that there is just as much certainty in the transition from one proposition to another as there is in mathematics. That is to say, they want to build their philosophy according to the pattern of these mathematical methods; but not by introducing into their philosophy what is understood by mathematics today. So, by going back to Descartes and Spinoza, we have already associated a completely different meaning with the word mathematics. If we disregard the aspect that merely refers to quantities, we have associated the sense of the inner, secure transition from judgment to judgment, from conclusion to conclusion. We have considered the nature of mathematical thinking, not what we can call a science of quantities.

And let us go back even further. In ancient times, the word “mathematics” had a completely different meaning altogether. Then it was identical with the word science. This means that when one meant 'science', one spoke of 'mathesis' or 'mathematics', because in mathematization one found the certainty of an inner insight into a 'fact' present in consciousness. One associated the sense of 'knowledge' and 'science' with this word. And so a much more general concept has been transferred to the narrow field of the theory of quantities. Today we have every reason to remember such things, because we are faced with the necessity of looking again at what actually lies at the basis of mathematical thinking. What is the essential feature of mathematical thinking? The essential feature of mathematical thinking is precisely the transparency of the mathematical content of consciousness. If I draw a triangle and consider its three angles, alpha, beta, and gamma, and want to prove that the sum of these three angles is 180 degrees, then I do the following (see figure r): I draw a parallel to the base line through the uppermost point of the triangle, look at the ratio of the angles alpha and gamma to the alternate angles that arise at the parallel, and then, by observing how the three angles that arise at the parallel – gamma', alpha', and beta – are positioned in relation to one another and how they form an angle of 180 degrees, I have the proof that the three angles of the triangle are also 180 degrees. That is to say, what is present in the mathematical as a conscious fact right up to the lines of reasoning is manageable and accompanied by inner experience from beginning to end. And this is the basis of the certainty one feels in mathematical thinking: that everything that is present as a conscious fact is accompanied by inner experience right up to the judgment and the proof.

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And when we then look at the external world, whose material foundations cannot be penetrated with such clarity, we still feel satisfied when observing external nature if we can at least follow its phenomena in the experience that first met us in clarity.

The certainty that one feels in this clarity of consciousness in mathematics becomes particularly apparent when one looks at what is universally recognized as a major advance in mathematics in the 19th century century: what emerged as “non-Euclidean geometry”, as “metageometry” in Lobatschewskij, Bolyai, Legendre and so on.

There we see how, based on the inner certainty of intuition, the Euclidean axioms are first modified and, by modifying the Euclidean axioms, possible other geometries than the Euclidean one are constructed, and how one then tries to cope with an inscrutable reality using what has been constructed as an extension of intuitiveness. All the ideas that have entered modern thought through this “meta-geometry” are basically factual proof of the certainty that one feels in the comprehensibility of mathematization.

And with regard to Euclidean space – for the spaces of the other geometries are simply other spaces – which is characterized by the fact that three coordinate axes perpendicular to one another have to be imagined , that what has been presented here as proof of the 180-degree nature of the three angles of a triangle applies to this Euclidean space. And everyone will realize that if the Euclidean axioms are modified, this may have a bearing on our space, in which we are – which is then precisely not Euclidean space, but perhaps an internally curved space – but that for Euclidean space, which can be comprehended, the Euclidean results must be assumed to be certain because of their comprehensibility. No one will doubt that.

And just when you see through these facts, then you will find: the application of mathematics to the field of natural science is based on the fact that one finds in the external world that which is first found internally, that, so to speak, the facts of the external world behave in such a way as corresponds to the mathematical results that we first found independently of this external world in inner contemplation.

But one thing is absolutely certain: I would say, the precondition for this inner vision of the mathematical is that this mathematical first appears to us as an image. The inner free activity of constructing, which we experience in mathematizing, is such an inner free activity only because nothing of what otherwise prevails within our human beingness, when, for example, we want or the like, following an instinct. From this, what arises as a stock of consciousness in the process of mathematization is, as it were, elevated to the point of becoming pictorial. In relation to what is “external natural reality”, the mathematical is unreality. And we feel the satisfaction in the application of the mathematical to the knowledge of nature precisely because we can recognize what we have freely grasped in pictorial form in the realm of being.

But precisely for this reason it must be admitted that on the one hand it is justified when such minds, which do not merely want to go to what natural reality as such shows in human observation as real, but want to go to the full, total reality, like Goethe, when such spirits — as Goethe particularly showed in his treatment of the “Theory of Colors” — do not want a total application of the mathematical to all of external reality. Goethe's rejection of mathematics arose precisely from the realization that, although what corresponds to the pictorial vividness of the mathematical can be found in external nature through mathematics, at the same time one thereby renounces everything qualitative. Goethe did not want to treat only the quantitative in external nature; he also wanted to include the qualitative.

On the other hand, however, it must be said that the whole inner greatness of mathematics is based on its pictorial nature, and that it is precisely in this pictorial nature that we must seek what gives it the character of an a priori science, a science that can be found purely through inner contemplation.

But at the same time, by mathematizing, one is actually outside of nature, in contrast to which mathematics is of particular interest. Nowhere does one grasp something that is effective in itself, but only the relationships of this effectiveness that can be expressed by mathematical formulas. When you calculate a future lunar eclipse in mathematical formulas, or, by inserting the corresponding variables in negative form, a lunar eclipse that has passed in the past, you must be aware that you never penetrate into the inner essence of what is happening, but only grasp the quantum of relationships with mathematical formulas from a certain point of view. That is to say, one must realize that one can never penetrate into the inner essential differentiation through mathematics if one understands mathematics in the narrow sense in which it is still often understood today.

But even within mathematics we can already see a kind of path that leads out of mathematics itself. From what I have just said, you can see that this path, which leads out of the mathematical, should be similar to the path we take when we submerge into nature, which has been thoroughly penetrated and is penetrating, with the purely pictorially mathematical, with the unpenetrated, ineffectively pictorially mathematical. There we submerge into something that, in a sense, intercepts us with our free mathematizing activity and constricts mathematical formulas into an event that is effective in itself, that is in itself something to which we have to say: we cannot fully grasp it with mathematics; in the face of the inner transparency of mathematics, this thing asserts its essential independence and its essential interiority.

This path, which is taken when one simply seeks the transition from the unreal mathematical way of thinking to the real scientific way of thinking, can in a certain way already be found today within the mathematical itself in a certain relation. And we see how it can be found if we look not outwardly but inwardly at the attempts that thinking has made in the transition from mere analytical geometry to projective or synthetic geometry, as presented by more recent science. I would like to explain what I mean by the sentence I have just uttered using a very elementary, an extremely elementary and well-known example of synthetic geometry.

When you do synthetic, newer projective geometry, you differ from the analytical geometer in that the analytical geometer works with mathematical formulas, that is, he calculates, counts, and so on. The synthetic geometer uses only the straightedge and the compass, and that which can arise in consciousness through the straightedge and the compass as a fact, which first emerges from intuition. But let us ask ourselves whether it also remains purely within intuition.

Let us imagine a line – what is called a line in ordinary geometry – and on this line three points. Then we have the following mathematical structure (see Figure 2): a line on which the three points I, II, III are located.

Now, there is – I can, of course, only hint at what I have to present here in the main lines, so to speak appealing to what you already know about the matter – there is another figure which, in a certain way, in its entire configuration, corresponds to the mathematical figure just drawn. And this other figure is created by treating three lines in a similar way to the way I have treated these three points here, and by treating a point in a similar way to the way I have treated the line here. So imagine that instead of the three points ], II, III, I draw three lines on the board, and instead of the line that goes through the three points, I draw a point (see Figure 3); and to create a correspondence, I take the point where the three lines intersect: I have drawn another figure here (Fig. 3). The point that I have drawn above with a small ringlet corresponds to the line on the left, the three, as they are called, rays that intersect at one point, and which I denote by I, II, III, correspond to the three points I, II, III, that lie on the line on the left (Fig. 2).

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If you want to feel the full weight of this ruling, you have to take the exact wording as I have just pronounced it. You have to say: the point on the right (Figure 3), which I have marked with a small ring above, corresponds to the line on the left (Figure 2) on which the three points lie; and the rays I, II, III on the right correspond to the points I, II, III on the left. And in that the three rays I, II, III on the right intersect at the one point above, this intersection corresponds to the position of the three points I, II, III on the left on the straight line drawn on the left.

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Thus stated, there is a very specific cognitive fact and a corresponding structure on the left opposite the structure on the right.

One can now – by remaining purely within the realm of the visual, that is, what can be constructed with compass and straightedge, without the need for calculation – proceed to the following state of consciousness: I draw a line again on the left, and again three points on this line (the lower line in Figure 4).

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I have now – I ask you to please consider the way I express myself, which I will follow, as decisive for the facts – I have now drawn the line on the left, on which the three points i, 2, 3 are located. I will proceed and assume – please note the word I pronounce: “and assume” – I will proceed and then assume the following. I will connect the points to the left of one line with the points on the other line in a certain way and will thus obtain connecting lines that will intersect (see Figure 5). I will connect the point I with the point 3, the point III with the point i, the point I with the point 2, the point II with the point 1, the point III with the point 2, the point II with the point 3, and will get intersection points by these lines, which I can then again - I now assume - connect by a straight line. So my construction is carried out in such a clear and transparent way that I can actually do what I have just described. You can actually carry out this construction as follows (dotted line in Figure 5): You see, I have the three points of intersection, which I got in the way I described earlier, so that I can draw the dashed-dotted straight line through them.

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I now assume that by adding another to the right-hand bundle of rays (Figure 3), as it is called, I have the same ratio in the ratio of the radiation as in the distance of the points lying on the left straight line. I shall therefore draw a second bundle of rays on the right (Figure 6), which, in relation to its radiating conditions, corresponds to the positional conditions of the points on the lines on the left. So I have drawn in another bundle of rays here (Figure 6) and call it I, 2, 3, assuming that i, 2, 3 corresponds to i, 2, 3 in relation to the points on the left.

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And now I will perform the corresponding procedure on my two ray structures on the right, which I performed on my line and point structures on the left (Figure 5), only I have to take into account that a line on the left corresponds to a point on the right: while on the left I looked for a line connecting two points, on the right I have to look for a point that arises when two rays intersect. The intersection on the right should correspond to the connection on the left (the points of intersection in Figure 6 are marked by small circles, see Figure 7). You can see what I have done: if I connected III with i and 3 with I as points on the left, I brought I with 3 and i with III as lines to the intersection here on the right.

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And if I have drawn two lines from the points on the left and brought them to the intersection at one point, I will now draw a line through the two points that I have obtained on the right (dotted line in Figure 7), and I will now carry out the same procedure with respect to the other rays. That is [the lecturer once again illustrates the correspondence between the circled intersections of Figure 7 and the connecting lines of Figure 5], I will bring II into intersection with i, I with 2, III with 2, II with 3; I will therefore look for the points of intersection on the right as I looked for the connecting lines on the left; and, as you see, I have sought these points of intersection on the right by bringing the rays to the intersection in order to draw lines through these points of intersection (dashed lines in Figure 7), just as I sought lines on the left by connecting the points in order to obtain the points of intersection of these intersecting lines (dotted lines in Figure 5).

The connecting lines – but the points of intersection that I obtained on the right – also intersect at a point indicated here by a small ring at the top (P in Figure 7), just as the three points that I obtained on the left lie on a straight line (dashed in Figure 5). That is to say, in the figure on the right, where lines are used instead of points and the connecting lines are intersections, I get a point where the three lines intersect, just as I got a line that passes through the three points on the left. I get a point for the line on the left.

Here I remain, proceeding purely from the realm of the intuitive, although within that which proceeds from intuition but which nevertheless leads to something else. And I ask you to consider the following. Suppose you look in the line, in the direction indicated by the (dashed) line on the left, which goes through the three points of intersection – Alpha, Beta, Gamma. Then you will look up at an intersection point that obscures the others, in relation to which the others are behind it (Figure 8). Here, in the line, you have not only “three points.” But as soon as you move on to a relationship of reality, something quite vivid occurs in relation to these three points: the point gamma is the one in front, and behind it are the points beta and alpha. You have clearly laid this out in the left-hand figure in the illustration.

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If we now go through a completely legitimate procedure, which I have described, to the corresponding structure on the right, we have to consider a point instead of a line (P in Figure 9). When we consider this point, we must say that just as on the left an intersection point gamma arises from the connection of III with 2 and the connection of 3 with II, covering the other intersection points, so on the right the necessity arises to introduce what follows and thus, through the law of connection, to pass from the concrete to the non-concrete: On the right (Figure 9), the necessity arises to imagine the curled point (P) in such a way that the ray (Gamma), which is formed by connecting the points of intersection of the lines III and 2, II and 3, first intersects at the curled point with the ray (Beta) that is formed by the preceding ratio ( III with 1, I with 3); and we must imagine that within this curled point the intersections that arise through the three dashed lines also lie as three internally differentiated entities, just as on the left on the dash-dotted line the three points gamma, beta, alpha. That is, I must find the intersections arranged in the individual point on the right so that they coincide one above the other.

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That means, in other words, nothing less than: Just as I have to think of the dashed-and-dotted line on the left in such a way that a front and back arises for the points gamma, beta, and alpha for an observing eye, so I have to think of a differentiation within the point, that is, a spatial expansion of zero, in all three dimensions. Seen from the way it has arisen out of this structure, I have to think of this point, not as something undifferentiated, but as having a front and a back. Here I am confronted with the necessity of not thinking of a point as neutral in all directions, but of thinking of the point as having a front and a back.

I am making a journey here, through which I am forced out of the free formation of the mathematical and into something where the objective passes over into an inner determination, into an inner being. You see, this journey is similar to the one through which I pass from the mathematically free formation to the acceptance of this formation from the inner determination within the natural order. And by passing from analytical to synthetic geometry, I get the beginning of the path that is shown to me from mathematics to inorganic natural science.

Then, basically, it is only a small step to something else. By continuing these considerations, to which I have now pointed, one can also come to an inner understanding of the following state of consciousness: if one pursues purely with the help of projective, synthetic geometry how a hyperbola relates to an asymptote, then one finds purely intuitively that on the one hand, say at the upper right, the asymptote ptote approaches the hyperbola but never reaches it, but you still get the idea that the hyperbola comes back from the lower left with the other branch, and the asymptote also comes back from the lower left with its other side. In other words, through this relationship between asymptote and hyperbola I get something that I could draw on the board for you in something like the following (Figure 10): at the top right, the asymptote, the straight line, approaches the hyperbola ever closer. I have added a shading there to express what kind of relationship the asymptote actually has to the hyperbola. It is getting closer and closer to him, it wants to get to him, it is getting closer and closer to the essence of its relationship to him. If you now follow this relationship upwards to the right, you will finally come to the conclusion, through purely projective thinking – I can only hint at this here – that the direction of the line that you have upwards to the right, be it the hyperbola or the asymptote, coming from the lower left, , coming from the lower left, the hyperbolast and the asymptote, and this in such a way that it leaves the hyperbolast more and more with its being in the hatched suggestion.

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So that we can say: this asymptote has a remarkable property. As it ascends to the right, it turns towards the hyperbola with its relationship to the hyperbola; as it comes up again from the bottom left, it turns away from the hyperbola with its relationship to the hyperbola. This line, the asymptote, when I look at it in its entirety, in its totality, has a front and a back again. That is why I was able to draw the shading on one side one time and on the other side the next. I come again into an inner differentiation of the linear, as I come into an inner differentiation when I force the purely mathematical pictorial into the realm of natural occurrence. That is, I approach what occurs as differentiation in the natural occurrence when I want to grasp the mathematical structures themselves in the right way with the help of projective geometry.

What happens through projective geometry can never be done in the same way through mere analytic geometry. For mere analytic geometry, by constructing in coordinates and then searching for the end points of the abscissas and ordinates in its computational form, remains, in its form, completely outside the curve or outside the structure itself. Projective geometry does not stop at the curve and the figure, but penetrates into the inner differentiation of the figure: to the point where one must distinguish between front and back – to the straight line where one must also distinguish between front and back. I have only indicated these properties because of the limited time available. I could also mention other properties, for example, a certain curvature ratio that the point extended in the three spatial dimensions has within itself, and so on.

If you really follow the path from analytical geometry into synthetic geometry with an open mind, if you see how you are, I would say, caught up in something that already approaches reality is already approaching reality, how this reality is present in the external nature, then one has the same inner experience, exactly the same inner experience that one has when one ascends from the ordinary concept of the mind, from ordinary logic, to the imaginative. One must only continue in imaginative cognition. But one has given the beginning when one begins to move from analytical geometry to synthetic. One notices there the interception of what arises from the determination by external reality, after which one has grasped the result, and one notices the same in imaginative cognition.

And now, what is the opposite path within spiritual science to that which leads from ordinary objective knowledge to imaginative knowledge? It would be the one that led from intuition down to inspired knowledge. But there we already find that we are standing inside the real. For with intuition we stand inside the real. And we move away from the real. Descending from intuition to inspiration, we again move away from the real. And when we come down to imagination, we have only the image of the real within.

This path is at the same time the one that the real undergoes in order to become our object of knowledge. Of course, in intuition we are immersed in reality. We move away from reality to inspiration, to imagination, and arrive at our objective knowledge. We then have this in our present knowledge. We make the path from reality to our knowledge. In a sense, we first stand within reality and depart from this reality to arrive at unreal knowledge. On the path we take from analytical geometry into projective or synthetic geometry, we try to move in the opposite direction again, from purely intellectual analytical geometry to where we can begin to think in real terms if we want to achieve anything at all. We are approaching the re-realization of nature, which it undergoes by wanting to become knowledge, by realizing unreal knowledge.

You see, there is no need to assume that our modern spiritual science, as it appears here, wanted to do mathematics differently than mathematicians do when they do mathematics in their own way. There is no need to do much else in the fields that a quantitative natural science has already entered today, except to look for special experimental setups that lead from the quantitative into the qualitative. And when this external quantitative natural science today presents modern anthroposophy with its 'sound results', it is a bit like when someone reads a poem that touches on completely different regions, and someone says: Yes, I cannot decide through my state of mind whether one can live in a poem, but I know something for sure: that two times two is four! No one doubts that two times two is four; nor does anyone doubt what modern inorganic natural science provides who wants to advance to spiritual science. But there is no particular objection to the content of a poem, for example, if you hold up two times two is four to it.

What is at issue, however, is that the individual sciences should seriously and courageously take the path towards a true knowledge of reality that Anthroposophy offers, towards which they are already particularly tending, towards which they want to go. And while some people today, in fruitless scepticism, want to create darkness over what they, often rightly, perceive as the limits of knowledge of nature, anthroposophy wants to start to ignite the light of spiritual knowledge where natural science becomes dark.

And so it will perhaps not make much of a departure from the methods of the sciences mentioned today; but it will present the significance, the inner value of the sciences that have been spoken of today to humanity and will thereby ensure that people know why they penetrate into existence with mathematics, not just why they arrive at a certain certainty with mathematics. For in the end it is not a matter of developing mere products of certainty. We could close ourselves in the narrowest circle and go round and round in the narrowest circle if we only wanted to hold on to “the most certain”. Rather, it is a matter of expanding knowledge. But this cannot be found if one shies away from the path out of inner experience into the outer, into being differentiated in itself. This path is even hinted at in many ways in present-day mathematics and mathematical science. One must only recognize it and then act scientifically in the sense of this knowledge.

Closing Remarks on the Disputation

Dear attendees! Partly because of the late hour and partly for other reasons, I will not say much more than a few remarks related to what has been presented and discussed this evening.

I would like to return very briefly to the question regarding Professor Rein for the reason that one circumstance in this matter should be emphasized sharply.

I am well aware that not much of approval can be said about my “Philosophy of Freedom” by a Herbartian, especially one who has gone through the historical school. This was evident almost immediately after the publication of The Philosophy of Freedom in 1894. One of the first reviews that appeared was by the Herbartian Robert Zimmermann. But I must say that, despite the fact that this review was extremely critical, I was pleased with it because some really great points of view were put forward in opposition at the time. As to how necessary the relationship must be between a Herbartian evaluation and what my Philosophy of Freedom contains, I have not the slightest doubt. But it is a pity that I do not have Professor Rein's review of The Philosophy of Freedom here and could quote the passage as I would like to. It has just been brought to me, and I can therefore say some things even more precisely than would otherwise be possible on the basis of the review. So let me quote from this review, which begins with the words: “In times of such a low level of morality as the German people have probably never experienced, it is doubly important to defend the great landmarks of morality, as established by Kant and Herbart, and not to allow them to be shifted in favor of relativistic tendencies. The words of Baron von Stein, that a nation can only remain strong through the virtues by which it has become great, must be considered one of the most important tasks in the midst of the dissolution of all moral concepts.

The fact that a writing by the leader of the anthroposophists in Germany, Dr. R. Steiner, is involved in this dissolution must be particularly regretted, since one cannot deny the idealistic basic feature of this movement, which aims at a strong internalization of the individual human being, and in its plan of the threefold structure of the social body can find healthy thoughts that promote the welfare of the people. But in his book “The Philosophy of Freedom” (Berlin 1918), he takes his individualistic approach to such an extreme that it leads to the dissolution of the social community and must therefore be fought.

You can clearly see here that the “Philosophy of Freedom” is said to have emerged from the dissolution of all moral concepts and so on – and one can believe that, that it can be the opinion of one man.

Now, a large part of those present here know my views on scientific accuracy, on scientific conscientiousness, and above all, that one should first properly educate oneself about what one writes. To associate the Philosophy of Freedom, which appeared in 1894, even stylistically, with what is implied in the first sentences, is a frivolity. And such frivolity cannot be excused by the fact that the author, who works as a professor of pedagogy at a university, has by no means — as I believe has been said — “gone beyond the bounds of truly objective judgment.” The point is that we can only bring about a recovery of precisely those conditions, which have been discussed here this evening in a rather hearty way, if we do not make ourselves guilty of the same carelessness, but if we strictly exercise scientific conscientiousness precisely towards those who, by virtue of their office, have the task of educating young people. We must not allow those who have this profession to overlook the circumstances and times in which a work was written that they want to judge. That is the first thing I have to say.

Then there is the way of quoting. In this article you will find an incredible way of tearing sentences out of context and then not taking up what is said in my “Philosophy of Freedom”, but rather what the author of the article thinks he is entitled to take up, based on his own opinion, and what can be inferred from his interpretation of the sentences he has quoted.

Anyone who takes the trouble to really read The Philosophy of Freedom will see that it deals in a completely clear way with how to avoid the misunderstandings that Professor Rein criticizes when sentences are taken out of context in any way.

His description of how the Philosophy of Freedom is taken out of its historical context is matched by his placing it in impossible contexts: “If we listen to Dr. Steiner speak, we might be tempted to see him as an apostle of ethical libertinism. He also felt this and countered the objection, which goes: If every person only strives to live out and do as he pleases, then there is no difference between good action and crime. Every crookedness that lies in me has the same claim to be realized as the intention to serve the general good. Dr. Steiner seeks to refute this objection by pointing out that man may only claim the freedom demanded if he has acquired the ability to rise to the intuitive idea content of the world. To acquire this ability is the task of the anthroposophist, who is to rise to the standpoint of ethical individualism.

Now, please ask yourself whether someone is allowed to write such sentences as an assessment of Philosophy of Freedom. Philosophy of Freedom was published in 1894, before the term anthroposophist was coined. Professor Rein also places the “Philosophy of Freedom” in a milieu that was an impossible one for the “Philosophy of Freedom” at the time of its publication, apart from the trivialities that come later, where he speaks of it as an ethics for anthroposophists and angels and the like, and so on.

It is not at all my intention to cast a slur on what I might call the opposing point of view, but to show that this way of judging spiritual matters is part and parcel of the whole world of the person who has to leave our culture behind if the conditions that should be discussed here today are to improve. I may well say that I have carefully considered whether or not I should finally speak these words here. But it seems to me that the matter is important enough, and I believe that I have not crossed the boundary of objectivity, that I have actually confined myself essentially to characterizing the way of judging and not the “point of view” before you here. I know that it is always somewhat precarious to discuss family matters. However, I cannot change my approach, although I am not bound by it anyway, as I have no father-in-law among my colleagues!

Now I would like to make a few other comments, taking up a sentence that has also been discussed here today. Just to speak symptomatically, I would like to relate a small experience, but only to illustrate.

It has been said that it is true that not all students who come to a university or college are ready for that college; but the professors at the colleges cannot be held responsible for that, and these students are simply sent to them by the secondary schools. Yes, but I really could not help but think of a conversation that had once been held in my presence with one of the most famous literary historians at German universities. This literary historian was also on the examination board for grammar school teaching. – I don't really like to do it, but today times are so serious that one must also bring up such things. – He said: Yes, with these grammar school teachers, we know them, we have to examine them, but we sometimes have very strange thoughts when we have to let these camels out as grammar school teachers!

Well, as I said, it is just an illustration that I would like to give through this experience. I don't know if it speaks very strongly for the university teachers when an examiner and famous university teacher deigns to call the teachers of youth who are sent to the grammar schools “camels”. I'm not saying it, but the man in question did say it. I am only quoting. Well, every thought must be thought through to the end. And I believe that when the thought is thought through to the end, university teachers should not complain when incompetent high school graduates enter the university gates; after all, it was the university teachers who sent out the high school teachers who prepared these graduates for them. So in the end it is necessary, as I said, to think the idea through to the end. And that shows us that, if with some indulgence, we may already apply the concept of guilt in a certain respect.

But today some very strange words have been said, you see. And I must say that one of the strangest words, almost one of the little piquant ones, was this: that it was said that a university teacher had said: We expect deliverance from the student body! I am just surprised that he did not also say: From the moment we sit down on the school benches and promote the students to the professorship. You see, it is necessary to follow up the worn-out judgments that are buzzing around the present and that are nevertheless the cause of our current conditions. Of course, in doing so, one does not fail to recognize that there are exceptions and exceptions everywhere, and one can, for example, subscribe to much, very much, of what has been said with regard to art instruction at the academies. But on the whole, one must say that there is not so much reason to have good hopes for the future if one is not prepared to join forces, not only externally, through some association or the like, to join forces to move towards some vague goal, but when one is prepared – only when one is prepared – to truly engage in a thorough renewal and revival of our spiritual life itself. The actual damage is already encroaching on our spiritual life itself. And anyone who is familiar with the whole structure of anthroposophical life, how it has led, for example, to this School of Spiritual Science, certainly does not need to be told that “everyone must be free to express their worldview and to speak out of their own free conviction!” The many malicious natures who are here today to say all kinds of inaccurate things about the anthroposophical movement and related matters will immediately take advantage of this and say: These anthroposophists want their world view to be represented everywhere.

Now, the Waldorf school was founded by our community, without in any way founding a school of world view. The opposite of a world view school should be founded. This has been emphasized time and again. And anyone who believes that the Waldorf school is “an anthroposophical school” does not know it at all. And nor can it be said here at the Goetheanum that anyone is restricted in their free expression of their most deeply held convictions.

But what I will always fight for, despite all freedom, individuality and intellectualism, is scientific conscientiousness, thoroughness, being informed about what one is writing about, not just putting forward one's own opinion because one believes that under certain circumstances damage could arise from something that one has not really taken the trouble to understand, and from which one has plucked a few sentences in order to write an article.

I say this quite dispassionately. You know that I usually use the things that are done as “reviews” of anthroposophy only as a proximate occasion to characterize general conditions. I am not really interested in the personal attacks, only to the extent that they point to what needs to be changed in our circumstances. And here I do believe that the fellow student from Bonn, in his hearty way, has struck the right note, a right note to the extent that the students he meant really cannot find what they are looking for at the universities or colleges today.

But not “because of the curriculum”, not “because the right choices are not being made”, but because today's youth quite instinctively – without being fully aware of it – craves something from the bottom of their hearts that is not yet present within the general scientific framework, but which must be created within the general scientific framework. This is what awaits young people. This youth will certainly not fail to grasp with both hands when it is offered what it really wants: a truly new spirit. For such a new spirit is needed in the present.

This is basically the reason for the aversion to what emanates from anthroposophical spiritual science, even if one uses the phrase “one wants to accommodate every new thing”. When it asserts itself, then one does not do it after all. Because basically one cannot do it at all. It would be of no use to conceal these things in any way, but rather they must be pointed out clearly and distinctly.

Then the question of the World School Association was raised here. I believe I expressed very clearly what I have to say about this World School Association in terms of its intentions at the end of our last School of Spiritual Science course here in the fall. I then again expressed in roughly the same way the necessity of founding such a general world school association in The Hague, in Amsterdam, in Utrecht, in Rotterdam and in Hilversum: that the possibility of working in a world school association depends on the conviction that a new spirit must enter into the general school system spreading in as many people as possible. I have pointed out that today it cannot depend on founding schools here or there that would stand alone and in which a method is applied that is widespread in this or that respect, but that the school system of modern civilization must be taken into hand on the basis of the idea of a self-supporting, liberated spiritual life, the school system for all categories, for all subjects.

As far as I am aware, the words and calls that I have spoken so far are the only things I have to report on. These words were intended to find an echo in the civilized population of the present day. I have no such response to report. And I think the fellow student from Bonn spoke a true word when he pointed out that ultimately the student body from whose hearts he spoke here is in the minority. I think it is very, very much in the minority, especially in Germany. But also otherwise – I don't want to be unkind to anyone – otherwise, from where we are not far away at all. This is shown by the attendance at this college course. He said: the majority of the student body is asleep! Yes, it also rages at times. But one can also sleep while raging with regard to the things at stake.

And with regard to the matters for which this demand for the World School Association has been raised, everyone is also sleeping peacefully in the broadest circles. And it must be said: people have not yet really become accustomed to how necessary it is to bring anthroposophical work into modern civilization. We must become accustomed to it, and I long for the day when I can report more fully on the question of the world school association. Today I still could not say much more than what I said at the end of the School of Spiritual Science courses here last fall, although what I said was intended to allow something completely different to be reported today.

But the same applies to other things, and it is very difficult to raise awareness of the issues that really matter in today's world.

In a lecture in Berlin, after Lloyd George had called a general election in England in the wake of a strike that had already broken out, I pointed out that you don't achieve anything with such things, that it's just a postponement. It seems that people took it as a mere catchphrase at the time. Now, please, see for yourself today, you could have done so for a few days already, whether what I said back then was just a catchphrase or whether it was perhaps born out of a deeper understanding of social interrelations and the necessity of social interrelations.

The difficulty is that today there are so few people with the enthusiasm that really makes them feel inwardly involved with what they are saying. And so I am always pleased when young people come forward who have something to say about how they find what they are looking for here or there. For I believe that from such impulses will emerge what we need for all insight, for all understanding: inner participation, inner participation that knows how strong the metamorphosis must be that leads us from the declining forces of an old civilization to the impulses of the new civilization. Yes, we need conscientious understanding, we need penetrating insight. But above all, we need what youth could bring out of its natural abilities. But we need not only insight, not only penetrating understanding of the truth, in the broadest circles of present-day civilized humanity, we need enthusiasm for the truth!

The field I shall be discussing today is so extensive – even if it is to be illuminated from only a single point of view – that what I will be able to give today can only be a few brief indications, and I would ask you to take this into consideration. The point is that in the progression from the inorganic natural sciences to the organic natural sciences — and then further to psychological and spiritual observation — on the one hand, the necessity of spiritual-scientific anthroposophical observation arises more and more, but on the other hand, as this progression continues, it becomes more and more apparent how what is called spiritual science here can have a fertilizing effect on the individual specialized sciences.

What has been said about the nature of mathematics and the nature of the inorganic natural sciences was not so much to suggest that spiritual scientific observation could somehow bring about a completely different way of treating them and, in particular, a different content from that already present in our current scientific understanding. From the lectures on mathematics and inorganic natural science that have been presented so far, you have been able to discern a certain underlying theme that has been hinting at how, in both mathematics and the inorganic, the beginnings of the approach to these sciences that is meant here, can be found everywhere, even if it goes unnoticed by most. You have seen how one must point to the transition from the analytical treatment of geometry to the synthetic treatment, and how one finds that if one does not stop at the formal, but moves on to a living grasp of what is actually present, then continuing along this path leads to imaginative observation. And then, when a purely mathematical consideration was presented, you saw how a certain more lively treatment of the problems should lead to what is to be thought in the mathematical and inorganic natural sciences as being correct in the anthroposophical sense. To a certain extent, we have immersed ourselves in these sciences and have sought in them the points of strength in the directions in which we should proceed. The only thing is that in these sciences one remains strictly within the objective approach, which is the peculiarity of present-day human consciousness, and that one does not need to arrive at anything other than a certain how in the treatment of this observation.

The same situation does not apply to the organic natural sciences, although something similar is also present here in another respect. When we speak today of mathematics, of inorganic natural sciences, of photometry, mechanics and so on, we have to point out the way of thinking that needs to be reformed, as was the case yesterday. In the organic natural sciences, however, one begins by pointing out not what is to be rejected, but what is to be included. This begins already within the world of facts itself. Nothing substantial can be achieved by a mere reform of the way of thinking.

I would first like to present a brief historical consideration to clarify how to proceed in this area in order to arrive at a fruitful view. We have already pointed out in our reflections that in the progressive development of humanity, only since the 15th century of the Christian era has there emerged what we call the special nature of our present consciousness. All earlier ways of looking at things were fundamentally quite different. It was only from the aforementioned point in time that humanity truly grasped that form of consciousness which, on the one hand, leads to the use of freedom, but on the other hand, by referring man back to himself, throws him into an abstraction through which he becomes, in a certain sense, alienated from reality in relation to the world of being. It is the approach that adheres only to external observations and their description, to the arrangement of tests, of experiments and observation of their results, that is, the answers that nature provides when questions are asked not only theoretically but practically, in the experiment.

What is applied by the powers of the soul, in that science comes into being in this way, is the combining power of the mind. This combining power of mind is, I might say, the great practical-scientific problem for the time being. It becomes so when one raises the question of its correct applicability. And this question of the correct applicability of the power of mind or of ordinary reason—in observation, in summarizing observations, in experimenting—this question arose particularly for Goethe. And anyone who delves into what actually became a problem for Goethe — you can read about this in my “Introduction to Goethe's Scientific Writings”, which is now almost forty years old — will find that Goethe did not want the power of understanding or reason to be applied that it gives science an actual content, that one says something about existence as such out of the power of understanding or reason, so to speak, but rather that this power of understanding or reason is used only to think of the phenomena in such an order that one phenomenon explains the other. Then, by using one's understanding or reason, one has contributed nothing to what the phenomena themselves express.

If one wants to apply pure reason, then one must proceed without reservation to a pure phenomenology, that is, use reason only to look at a phenomenon purely, to do nothing but just to bring it to pure looking, and then to place the other associated phenomenon next to it; so that through this arrangement of the phenomena - which is then also carried out in practice in the experiment - the phenomena themselves are caused to explain each other. The intellect, then, has only an ordering, a real methodological significance, so to speak, but no qualitative significance. In the Goethean sense, nothing may emerge from it that says anything about being itself.

I believe that this is a precise definition of what Goethe saw as the use of the power of understanding, and that is also what the general consciousness of humanity has been striving for since the first third of the 15th century. It may be said that not everyone has yet learned to resign themselves to a certain extent when it comes to understanding, as Goethe wanted to do in his own research, even if he did not fully implement it everywhere. But unconsciously this way of life of the intellect lives in the striving for knowledge, out of which spiritual science wants to go forth, but in a different way than through the intellect.

And what I am saying now is obvious when one sees the progress that has been made in natural scientific thinking, say, from the beginning of the 19th century. I am not referring to the natural philosophers, but with the empirical naturalists, for example, with the likes of Johannes Müller, up to Mach or even to Poincare and the others, or to Fritz Mauthner, who is certainly not a naturalist.

Anyone who really wants to get an idea of what is at stake here must familiarize themselves with something that still played a certain role in the first half of the 19th century, but which was then completely abandoned around the middle of the 19th century, and which is now emerging again in scientific observation in a strange form here and there. This is the idea of the life force, what is called vitalism in scientific life.

If we go back to the idea of vital force that was held in older times, we see that the supporters of the existence of this vital force said to themselves: When we look at a thing of inorganic nature, we find in this thing of organic nature, we find all kinds of forces, thermal energy, light energy, electrical energy, and so on; but when we look at a being in the organic world, we find, in addition to these forces that constitute inorganic nature, the vital force, the life force. This life force is present in every living being, just as magnetic force is present in a magnet. It takes possession, as it were, of the inorganic forces in order to combine them and to produce effects from them that they cannot achieve on their own.

This vital force was given the final push to resign through the presentation of an organic substance in a synthetic way by Wöhler and Liebig, and it was abandoned as such in the second half of the 19th century. But in the so-called neovitalism, it has recently emerged from obscurity because certain thinkers have come to realize: If we apply the methods we have developed to explain the inorganic with the help of inorganic forces to the organic, then we will not get anywhere; we have to look for something else in the organic. And, I would like to say, with a clear echo of the old life force, something like this emerges again in neovitalism for the explanation in the organic sciences.

But anyone who really engages critically with what still appears as life force in Johannes Müller's work will find that there is something in this life force that cannot be grasped as a concept in reality. And I would like to say that, due to the impossibility of grasping life force as a concept, it died in the course of the 19th century in scientific observation. It could not be grasped. And why could it not be grasped? If we look very carefully at the organic-scientific methodology of the 19th century, we will see that those who wrestle with the idea of this life force find that they cannot do anything with it. What they want to do with it disappears as soon as they approach the phenomenon with their idea. They do not get to the root of the matter. The reason they do not get to it is that they do not clearly define the actual function of intellectual activity.

In our age, intellectual activity tends to look at only the phenomenon and place it alongside another phenomenon, so that one phenomenon explains the other. But this cannot be done with the life force. With the life force, if you want to do anything at all, you always have to push something into the phenomenon from the intellectual activity. You have to, as it were, insinuate something into the phenomenon. And therein lies the cause of the gradual disquieting doubt that arose in the use of the idea of the life force. This doubt was the reason why the idea was finally abandoned and why a certain ideal arose in the widest circles, namely to regard living beings as a confluence, a combination of those forces that also prevail in inorganic nature.

In other words, the idea of the life force has actually become a kind of changeling. It was decided to look for the constitutive element in the sciences only in the phenomenon. The life force did not emerge as a phenomenon. One had to construct the vital force from the intellect, which was actually not permissible in this age of human development. That was the negative part of the development in which we find ourselves today. For in neovitalism nothing vivid occurs. What neovitalism puts in the place of an explanation of life phenomena that combines only the inorganic is nothing more than a kind of rehashing of old vitalism. And one could say that in the outer workings of scientific life there is clearly a kind of reflection of what is actually going on in the inner life of the spirit. Today I can only point to this reflection in a few isolated phenomena. But anyone who can look at the phenomena that are close together in such a way that they shed light on each other will also see the truth of what I am talking about. Until recently, until the middle of the 19th century, what was retained from an older way of looking at things, what the concepts and ideas held back from it, still figured quite unattractively as philosophy. And I tried to at least hint at what was going on with this philosophy in my first lecture in this series. But in the second half of the 19th century, there were already some strange phenomena in the field of philosophical life.

We can see how a very conscientious thinker, who was just not able to think the problems he raised through to their conclusion – I have mentioned him here in recent days – how Franz Brentano called for the scientific method in philosophy. He was given nothing but the scientific method as it was customary in the present. In a sense, this provided the guiding principle for all those who no longer wanted to reflect on a particular intellectual method, but who submitted to the general authority of popular scientific thinking. But then there were other phenomena. At some faculties, where, let us say, old Herbartians were working, it came about that they left their chairs, and there were then faculties which did not appoint philosophers in the old sense to these vacant chairs of philosophy, but people who thought scientifically. This was the case, for example, in Vienna, where Mach, the naturalist, had to take up the chair of philosophy that had become vacant. This was still somewhat uncomfortable, and so they called the subject he had to represent “inductive philosophy,” and so they gave him the chair of inductive philosophy, but placed next to it a man — I hold this man in very high regard, but I am now characterizing cultural phenomena objectively, and so personal opinion plays no role here — who had previously been a professor of Christian philosophy at the theological faculty of the new university. This was a way of documenting that what should be in philosophy was not taken from some new way of research, but from the old tradition. And what took place there, I would say, in a certain striking way, is taking place again and again. Apart from the fact that people who think entirely in terms of natural science are brought to the psychological chairs and introduce an entirely scientific way of thinking into an area previously regarded as philosophical, we also see otherwise how people who think scientifically today function quite officially as the bearers of philosophy. In such phenomena, what I have to suggest here is also expressed externally: with what has emerged in recent times as the combining mind, which in its purity can only be applied as Goethe wanted it to be applied, nothing can be made out about the phenomena of life.

Here again is the point where honesty and impartiality of scientific thinking must be strictly demanded. And the methods that research with the help of external observation, external experiment, with the help of this combining mind, they can, if they are really critical with themselves, if they, out of their considerations, if I may say so, gain a full awareness of their own scope, can do no other than say: we are applicable only to the field of inorganic natural science; there we belong, there we can magnify the method; but we must not, without changing the whole meaning of the method, also change the content of the method, ascend into the field of organic natural science. That must remain untouched by this method.

Spiritual science must now speak from the other side. Spiritual science must say: There is also the possibility of a development of consciousness corresponding to the path taken by those forms of consciousness that had still blossomed before the 14th century. Just as these forms of consciousness have been developed into a purely objective consciousness that should not get stuck in phenomenality, so today, in order to take a scientific approach to the organic, it is necessary to develop inwardly through the soul to the other forms of consciousness: imaginative consciousness, inspired consciousness, intuitive consciousness.

For if the intellect is to come to terms with life phenomena, then, for the intellect, what takes place within the realm of life phenomena must become observation, must become phenomenon. It cannot do so within sensory observation. The intellect cannot become constitutive for a content of the organic natural sciences. The intellect must also behave combinatively there. But the intuition must be supplied to it. This intuition is supplied to it in imaginative cognition. In the training of imaginative cognition, as I have described it in my book “How to Know Higher Worlds”, apart from everything else that can be said about it, the possibility is gained of breaking with the old vitalism, which has provided a changeling of conceptuality, and of replacing it with the imaginative intuition of life.

Of course, the tremendously cheap objection that can now be made comes to mind. It can be said: Well, yes, but we normal people only have this combining mind. There may be some oddballs who progress to imagination, inspiration, and so on. We won't question that, but we don't have it. Therefore, a philosophy applies to us that rejects these contents of imagination and so on, that does not concern itself with taking these contents of imagination, inspiration and so on into itself as philosophy. This cheap objection can be refuted in the following way. I will clarify myself with an example that I have often mentioned. If spiritual research simply takes the facts that are already available to empirical organic science today, then, for example, in the study of the human heart, one comes to quite different views than those that are still held in popular science due to a false, traditional use of the mind that has been preserved from ancient times. There the heart is regarded as a kind of better pump that drives the blood through the organism. This view is only accepted as the “correct” one for the human being if reason is applied to the human organism as a living being, which is not applicable to it. As soon as one rises to imaginative contemplation, one comes to say to oneself: It is not the heart that drives the blood through the veins of the organism, but the movement of the heart is the result of the inner life of the blood. It is the blood itself, which, from its own intense life, centralized in the heart, causes this movement, so that the movement of the heart is the consequence of the movement of the blood, and not the other way around. This follows directly from the imaginative observation of the human and then also the animal organism. Now, anyone who sets out to teach about the heart and the movements of the heart without this imaginative observation must, if he is honest, come to find in this approach something inadequate to be relied upon. And if he then excludes what he himself has recognized as inadequate in his explanation, but retains the empirical knowledge of the facts, the entire world of facts of the human and animal organism, insofar as this world of facts relates to blood movement and heart movement, if he summarizes everything – spiritual science never shrinks from a truly thorough and conscientious examination by others — of what can be gained from the field of present-day anatomy, physiology, biology, etc., and especially, in explaining this problem, of what can be gained from embryology, he will say to himself: Now, the one who stands on the ground of imaginative knowledge gives this explanation. I know the facts; if I honestly presuppose the result of imaginative knowledge and test my well-known facts by it, then it is completely correct and there is every desirable reason to accept what is gained through imaginative knowledge.

As soon as progress is conscientiously and honestly made in this field in the direction of the development of scientific consciousness, the excuse can no longer be made that anyone who does not have imaginative knowledge himself does not need to recognize this imaginative knowledge. Instead, the other must take its place, that one says: I know well the facts that present themselves to sensory observation, but an explanation only comes to me from the side of imaginative insight. I can make sense of this explanation. The facts are understandable on this basis; so all the conditions for acceptance are met. — And basically, anyone who rejects supersensible knowledge in this area for the reason just given does not show that he does not have a command of supersensible knowledge. After all, it has not yet reached the point where it can be easily mastered. Rather, he proves that he cannot correctly evaluate the facts available to him. He proves the lack of his insight into the world of facts gained through sensory-empirical means. And this is most often the case in today's approach to organic natural science. The approach that is necessary for organic natural science is the one that rises from mere objective knowledge to imaginative knowledge. For it is only in imaginative knowledge that the secret of life is revealed.

Starting from pure phenomenology, which he wanted to see applied in the theory of colours and sounds, for example, Goethe strove towards what he called morphology, towards grasping the process of formation. He only came to a certain degree of knowledge. What he inaugurated must be continued. One can see how he only got to a certain point: after his approach had been sufficient to a high degree, if not completely, for the unconscious plant kingdom, he had to stop when he wanted to move from the plant kingdom to the consideration of the metamorphosis of the animal kingdom. Look at the treatises he wrote in relation to the metamorphosis of the animal kingdom. You will see everywhere how he, as a conscientious person, stops because it does not go any further, because from a certain moment of this Goethean morphology, if one wants to go further, one must arrive at something even more spiritual than mere form: at what the consciousness with the world of feeling and will can grasp inwardly – now in inspired knowledge.

If we look at it this way, then we will see that the essential thing is the way we look at it, the way we look at it, the way we develop the methodology. And, as I said, I can only hint at it today. If we look at the development of the theory of evolution from this point of view, we find the following: First, the series of living beings is followed empirically from the imperfect, so-called imperfect monad up to man, and it is proceeded in such a way that one always imagines the more perfect emerging from the more imperfect. If one proceeds in a somewhat different way, as Haeckel did to a certain extent, then one constructs, at least in the ancestral line of present-day beings, those which are in turn fairly accurate copies of present-day creatures. The constructed beings of the distant past in Haeckel's old family tree have the very character of what lives today.

But what presents itself to the imagination leads to a completely different way of looking at it. And I will – because the limited time available demands it – only sketch out this approach: If one starts from the standpoint of the imaginative way of looking at things, then, for example, the human head in relation to the spinal column can only be properly considered by saying: This human head formation, however dissimilar it may be in its outer form to the spinal column in its present metamorphosis, can only be imagined metamorphically as a transformation of the spinal column. One has to think that the nervous organization of the spinal cord is transformed, metamorphosed into what appears to us as the brain, and that the enclosing bones, the vertebrae of the spinal column, are also transformed into what becomes the skull.

11

But now it is important to bear the following in mind. One must imagine that in a certain respect what I have drawn here as a circle, in contrast to the line a-b, is, so to speak, a puffed-up dorsal spine and points to what it once was in an earlier metamorphosis: itself something like a dorsal spine, but under different external conditions. What I have drawn as a circle has, in a sense, developed out of a-b. But what is now the dorsal vertebra of the human organism only joined it later. In the case of humans, this is the later formation. After the skull had reformed from an arrangement of forces that now appears in a slightly different way in the dorsal vertebra, this dorsal vertebra joined it. What is less developed in the human being is therefore what is later, and what is more developed is what is earlier. And if we proceed in this way, we are led back to an age in which the forces that form the human head were already present in a different metamorphosis, but not the forces that form today's human spinal cord.

If, however, we consider these latter forces, then they are the same forces that we encounter, for example, in the animal kingdom, where skull formation is a process that exhibits only a lesser transformation compared to the spinal column than in humans. So we have to say: what is present in the human head points us back to older times as the earliest formation than what then already occurred as a human being with the dorsal spine, and also than what is present in the animal kingdom. In evolution, we do not have to derive man from the animal kingdom, but we have to say that an interpretation of the facts themselves shows us that man is an older being than animals, that animals originated later and that in only achieved in their evolution what is also found in humans today in their later form as a dorsal spine, but because they had a shorter time available, they did not manage to develop the skull metamorphosis in the human sense.

If you develop this idea, which I can only sketch out here, you will come to a truly analogous understanding of the theory of evolution. The magnificent facts that are available, which one only needs to be fully aware of, become explicable when based on this imaginative insight. And from these assumptions, one then arrives at very definite relationships and connections of what is presented in external science to our earthly conditions.

Do you think that by pursuing this thought further, one arrives at an understanding of the relationship between man and beast? But one can also proceed in this way and learn to recognize how man relates to the plant kingdom and ultimately to the mineral kingdom, which one can grasp in its phenomenal context through observation, experiment and the combining intellect.

With such a way of thinking, one comes to truly understand man's relationship to his environment, just as one comes to understand, in a certain way, the relationships of the fields that lead us to mathematical judgments in mathematical science. One comes to develop more and more what Goethe had in mind as an ideal when he said that his primeval plant had to become something in the idea, with which one can recognitively place every single plant in its corresponding character before the soul. Just as one, when one has the general concept of the triangle, also knows what occurs in any particular triangle. This metamorphosis of human knowledge into organic knowledge is what Goethe had in mind as an ideal.

But now I would like to illustrate myself again with an example. If we start from this point of view, we come to really take a closer look at what takes place in the human head as functions, for example. We learn to recognize how the functions of the human head, by undergoing evolution in the way I have described here, are already in the process of regressing today, how they have become the human head from other states, but how a mineralization process is taking place in the human head today through external influences. And this mineralization process is the parallel phenomenon to our intellectual knowledge, which also only knows how to grasp the mineral physical, because it is bound to a mineralization process in the human nerve-sense apparatus. One becomes familiar with how what one accomplishes in intellectual cognition is paralleled by a mineralization process that builds itself into the organic of the human being as its physical vehicle, a settling of the purely mineral within the organic. By settling this mineral within the organic, one comes to do for the soul what intellectual activity is for this human being. One comes to really understand the inner connection between the spiritual-soul and the physical-bodily, not just to talk about it in abstract terms, as the “psychophysical parallelists” and similar phraseurs in the field of psychology do.

This is the way in which the present state of organic natural science can be pointed out as the path it must take. One cannot stop at demanding a particular way of thinking; one can only look for what is propelled in the empirical facts themselves, and one must really let another way of thinking take the place of the existing one, namely that of imaginative cognition.

But then one also comes to a truly fruitful application of this knowledge. If one seeks something in the external world that, when transferred to the external world, corresponds to what goes on in the human head as a process of mineralization parallel to intellectual cognition, then one finds outside in nature what takes place between the forces in the earth and what goes on in the root of the plant, and one finds the inner relationship between what is constituent in the root formation of the plant and what is constituent for what goes on in the human head.

In a similar way, we can then find relationships between, for example, what is going on in the herbaceous, leafy part of the plant and what is going on in the human rhythmic system, in the human organic. And we can find relationships between the functions in the flowering and fruiting part of the plant and what is going on in the human metabolic system, in the human sexual system, and so on. From this point of view, one can gain an overview of plant life.

If one knows how what I have called the mineralization process works in the human organism, so that this mineralization process takes place internally, in contrast to the external mineralization process, which also takes place in the upper part of the plant, then one notices the connection between what is going on internally in the main organization and what is going on in the root formation process, namely in what occurs as a mineralizing process in the root formation process. One also notices that in a certain way there is an opposition – despite the similarity, an opposition – as it expresses itself, for instance, when I have three and three, the one positive, the other negative. Then I have three times three, but there is still an opposition in it. Thus there is something that is the same in a certain respect and yet is opposed: in the internal mineralization process of the human head and in the external one of the plant root formation, and also in the external mineralization process of the earth planet itself. From here, the therapeutic connection between what is external and what is internal in the human being can be found in a rational way. And the transition can be found via pathology to rational therapy.

I can only hint at this last point here. Further information on this chapter will be given to those concerned, as it already happened in a spring course for doctors and medical students last year. But the important thing will be that it will be possible to give birth to real science out of spiritual science – which is not just theory, but a pointer to fruitful action, to deed.

Today, humanity is faced with the necessity, especially in the scientific field, of making not a small but a great decision: the decision to enter into organic life by not merely modifying the content of the old way of thinking to some extent, but by introducing a new element into this old way of thinking itself, the element of supersensible knowledge. What still stands in the way of this decision today for the majority of those who should make it, is not some defect in human cognitive ability, but a lack, an understandable lack, of courage for this strong, radical change. People would much rather suffer than move forward into the new. They would rather stick to the old and just reform it in some critical or other way.

But light will not come into what is available here for our present civilization in the field of knowledge until one has the courage to move forward from the way of thinking that is usual to a different way of thinking. As long as people content themselves with the excuse that 'one cannot achieve imaginative thinking after all', nothing useful will come of it. Only when people realize that they must not remain inert inwardly if science is to progress fruitfully in its approach will there be a change. One must become inwardly active and diligent. A decision of the will, not merely a theoretical consideration, is necessary here. And since, as every psychologist knows, mankind is more difficult to bring to decisions of the will than to theoretical considerations, in which one can remain quietly within, modern mankind has the opportunity to show how it rise from adversity to greatness by deciding to take a bold new approach, not to mention small considerations, in the fields of knowledge and the spirit.

It seems obvious to me today that what has been discussed here, from this point of view, during these days, the harmony of the subjective and the objective, is now emerging as an introduction to my lecture, also based, so to speak, on a feeling. Yesterday morning, the reflections concluded with the speech of Professor Römer, which gave me great satisfaction – that is the subjective aspect – for the reason that it showed how a specialist, who is thoroughly and fully immersed in his field, can feel the need for the spiritual science to shed light on such a specific subject. It will also have become clear to you from what Professor Römer has already been able to cite from his field of expertise today, that above all, for this interweaving, strong, vigorous work must be developed on the part of the relevant spiritual science itself. For what has been given so far - and this should be fully recognized - are initially individual guidelines that require verification with reference to external science.

In all that has been brought to me through this lecture to a certain subjective satisfaction, there was a consideration of the teeth. So yesterday we concluded with the teeth – now I come to the objective. And allow me to start with the teeth again today, though not with something that I want to tell you about the teeth on my own initiative, but with a saying that emerged from the scholarship of the 11th century, as it was in Central Europe at the time. This saying goes:

When thy tongue catcheth the wind

and draweth it into thy mouth,

and with thy teeth thou choosest

the word that thou shalt speak.

This means: just as the tongue catches the wind from its surroundings and draws it into the mouth, so it draws the word it speaks out of the teeth.

Now, that is a product of 11th-century Central European scholarship. It means that the tongue draws the word out of the teeth just as it draws air into the mouth from the outside world.

Now a sample of 19th-century scholarship, from the last third of the century, a word pronounced by the philologist Wilhelm Scherer, who was revered by a large number of students as a modern idol, and which you will find in his “Deutsche Sprachgeschichte” (History of the German Language), where he also uses this word that I have just read to you. The word he uses in contrast to this is this: “We laugh at such a word in the present”.

That is the scientific confession from the 19th century about this word from the 11th century; it expresses the scientific attitude that still prevails today in the broadest sense and that the representatives of the corresponding field are still likely to express today in further references.

If we first consider this contrast from the point of view that has been adopted here more often, that a complete change has taken place in relation to the state of mind of people since the first third of the 15th century, then we have in the time that lies between the first quoted saying and the saying of Wilhelm Scherer, we have contained approximately just what has elapsed in time since the dawning of that state of mind that existed until the beginning of the 15th century, and the direction that has emerged since then and has so far undergone a certain development.

Wilhelm Scherer now continues the sentences that he began by saying that he had to laugh at such a word from the 19th He says that all efforts in the present must be directed, with regard to linguistics, to bringing together what physiologists have to say about speaking and word formation based on the physiological organization of the human body with what philologists have to say about the development of language from ancient times to the present. In other words, physiology and philology should join hands in this field of science. And Wilhelm Scherer adds that unfortunately he has to admit that the philologists are very, very far behind and that it cannot be hoped that they will meet the physiologists halfway in terms of what they have to say about the physical organization for the formation of speech. So that physiology and philology are two branches of science whose lack of mutual understanding a man regarded as a man of his time acknowledges in no uncertain terms.

This points to a phenomenon that is a dominant one in our time: that the individual sciences with their methods do not understand each other at all, that they talk alongside each other without the person who is placed in the midst of this scientific activity and hears what the physiologists on the one hand and the philologists on the other have to say, and who hears what they say, is able to do something with it – forgive the perhaps somewhat daring comparison – other than to be skewered from two sides in relation to his soul by the formations of concepts.

In a sense, although I do not want to say much more with this than something analogous, a certain contrast is already expressed in the word designation, which, I would like to say, is unconsciously taken seriously by the newer currents of science. The word 'physiology' expresses the fact that it wants to be a logos about the physical in man, so to speak, that which grasps the physical in a logical, intellectual way; the word 'philology' expresses: love of wisdom, love of the Logos, love of the word; so the word designation is taken from an emotional experience. In one case the word designation is taken from a rational experience, in the other from an emotional experience. And what the physiologist wants to produce as a kind of intellectual Logos about the human body, that - namely the Logos - the philologist actually wants to love. As I said, I am only trying to make an analogy here, but if we pursue it further, if we follow it historically, it will take on a certain significance. I would advise us to follow it more closely historically.

But we can point out something else that comes to us from prehistory, from the forerunner of that which has emerged in human consciousness since the beginning of the 15th century. We know that what is called logic and which, in a certain respect, has its image in language, at least essentially, is a creation of Aristotle. And if one were to claim that, just as a person today who has not studied logic nevertheless lives logic in his soul activity, logic also lived in people's soul activity before Aristotle, one overlooks the fact that the transformation of the unconscious into the conscious nevertheless has a deeper significance in the course of human events. The elevation of the logical into consciousness is also a real process, albeit an inwardly real process, in the development of the soul of humanity: in older times there was an intimate relationship between the concept and the word. Just as there was such an intimate relationship between the concept or idea and the perception, as you will find explained in my “Riddles of Philosophy”, there was also an intimate connection, an interlocking, I would say, of words and ideas.

The distinction that we have to make today, psychologically, between the word and the content of the idea – particularly when considering mathematization, this emerges with all clarity – was not made in older times. And it was precisely this distinction that Aristotle first arrived at. He singled out, within the life of the soul, that which is conception or concept from the fabric of language and made it into something that exists separately for knowledge. But in doing so, he pushed that which lives in language further down into the unconscious than it was before. In a sense, a gulf was created for knowledge between the concept or the conception and the word.

The further back we go in the consideration of human language, the more we find that the word and the concept or idea are experienced as one and the same thing, that man, so to speak, hears inwardly what he thinks, that he has a word-picture, not so much a thought-picture. The thought is linked externally to the sense perceptions and internally to the word. But in this way, even in these early times, a certain intuitive perception was present, which can be characterized as follows: as people expressed themselves in words, they felt as if what resounded in their words had entered their speech directly from a hidden, subconscious, instinctive aspect of things. They felt, as it were, that a real process takes place between what lives in things, and especially in facts, and what inwardly forms the impulse for the sounding of the word. They felt such a real connection as a person today still feels a real connection between the substances that are outside, say egg, veal, lettuce, and what then happens inside with the content of these substances when they are digested. He will see a real process in this process, which unfolds from the outside of the substances to what happens inside in the digestion. He experiences this real process subconsciously. What one experienced in language was subconscious — even if much more clearly, already permeated by a certain dim awareness. One had the feeling that something living in the things is related to the sounds, to the words. Just as the substances of the materials one eats are connected with what happens internally in the metabolism of the human being, one felt an inner connection between what takes place in the things and facts, which is similar to words, and what sounds internally as a word. And in that Aristotle raised to consciousness what was felt to be a real process, where concepts come into play, the same was achieved for language as a person achieves when he reflects on what the substances of the materials in his organism do. Thinking about digestion is, of course, somewhat further removed from the actual process of digestion than thinking about language. But we can gain an idea of the relationship by clarifying this idea by moving from the more immediate to the more distant, and by becoming clearer in the distance.

Now, for us, if we replace today's abstract view of history with a more concrete one, the fact that things that happened in Greece in the pre-Christian era, also in the pre-Aristotelian era, happened later for the Central European population - who still perceived the Greeks as barbaric, that is, at a lower level of culture - is clear. And we will be right, and spiritual science gives us the guidance to raise this feeling to certainty, if we imagine that the mental state from which we speak is spoken emotionally, “the tongue draws the outer air into the mouth just as it draws the word out of the teeth,” that this way of looking at things , this remarkably pictorially expressed view was roughly the same as that which prevailed in pre-Aristotelian times within Greece, and in the place of which there arose what was bound to arise through the separation of logic, of the logos, through the separation of the conceptual from that which is expressed in language.

You are aware that in that erudition which developed first in the 15th century and from which the various branches of the individual specialized sciences have emerged, that in this erudition as education much has contributed what has asserted itself as late Greek culture. The philologists, in other words, those who are supposed to love the logos, were thoroughly influenced by what emerged from late Greek culture. And just imagine such a late Greek as a Germanic scholar, like Wilhelm Scherer, confronted with early Greek, and it tells him: the tongue pulls the language out of the teeth – then he naturally rejects it, then he wants nothing to do with it from his point of view. One must consider such facts in a light that tries to shine a little deeper into the historical context than what is often available in the ordinary popular science of history today, both in the field of external political or cultural history and in the field of language history.

Now the question is what paths must be sought in order to scientifically penetrate into the structure of the language organism itself, if I may express it in this way.

Even in external appearances, it is expressed how the soul, which has gradually been elevated into the realm of abstract concepts, has moved away from what was felt about language in the pre-Aristotelian period. What, for example, has been produced, as an opinion about the origin of language, by this research, which is in the sign of Aristotelism? Well, it was elevated into the abstract, and thus alienated from its direct connection with the external world, through which one could experience what really corresponds to the formed word in things. It was alienated from this, but still sought to understand what such a connection might look like, and it then also translated this connection into all kinds of abstractions. What she felt inwardly, she placed in the realm where concepts are formed externally, based on sensory or other external observations. Because it was impossible to delve into things to search for the process of how the word works from things into the human organization, an abstract concept was used in place of such an understanding, for example in the so-called Wauwau theory or in the Bimbam theory. The wauwau theory says nothing more than that what appears externally in the organic as sound is imitated. It is a completely external consideration of an external fact with the help of abstract concepts. The Bim-Bim theory differs from the Bow-Wow theory only in that it takes into account the inorganic way in which sound is released from itself. This sound is then imitated in an external way by the human being who is confronted with and influenced by external nature. And the transformation of that which children call — though not everywhere, but only in a very limited area of the earth — when they hear the dog bark: woof-woof, or that which comes into their sense of language when they hear the bell ring: ding-dong-dong, this transformation is then followed by a curious method. Thus, what has then formed into the organism of language can be seen in the indicated 'theories', which, it is true, have not been replaced by much better ones to this day.

We are therefore dealing with an inwardness of the observation of language. Above all, the aim of spiritual science, as it is meant here, is to make the study of language an inward one again, so that through what can be achieved in the ascent from sensory to supersensible knowledge, what was once thought about language through feeling and instinct can be found independently again, but now in a form appropriate to advanced humanity. And here I must point out (owing to the limited time I have only to indicate the directions in which the empirical facts can be followed) how spiritual science takes a strictly concrete path when it wants to understand how the human being develops from childhood to a certain age. You will find what I am trying to suggest here outlined, for example, in my booklet 'The Education of the Child from the Point of View of Spiritual Science'.

First of all, it must be pointed out how the entire soul-physical configuration of the human being in the period before the change of teeth is essentially different from what it becomes after the change of teeth. Anyone who has observed this fact knows how much is metamorphosed in the soul-physical life during the period when the second teeth replace the first. And anyone who does not seek the relationships between body, soul and spirit through abstractions such as the followers of psychophysical parallelism, but seeks them in concrete phenomena, seeks them according to a truly further developed scientific method, and is able to grasp the inner structure of the soul life in the concrete, will find just how what later, in a more soul-like way, in the peculiar configuration of conceptual life, in the implementation of that which is experienced conceptually, with will impulses, which then lead to the formation of the judgment, as something that has been working in the physical organization until the change of teeth. And he will not speculate about what can “work spiritually” in the physical organization from birth to the change of teeth. Rather, he will say to himself, what is then released during the change of teeth, released from a body in which it was previously latent, that has previously been active in a latent and bound state in the physical organization of the human being. And this particular type of physical organization, in which what can later be observed in the soul is active, comes to an end with the eruption of the second teeth, which you were also made aware of yesterday.

Now, the facts at hand must be considered not only from a physiological point of view, but also from the perspective of the human soul. Just as the physiologist, with his senses and the mind bound to them, penetrates into the physical processes of the human organism, so too does the soul, with its faculties of imagination and inspiration. If one really penetrates into these processes, then one must see in the real, which is first latent from birth to the change of teeth, and then becomes free, also in terms of imagination and knowledge. That is why my writing on “The Education of the Child from the Point of View of Spiritual Science”, in summarizing this process in a formulaic way, speaks of the fact that with the change of teeth, the etheric body of the human being, which previously worked in the physical body, is only born free to be active in the soul life. This “birth of the etheric body” is expressed in the change of teeth.

It is necessary to have such formulaic expressions at the starting point of anthroposophical spiritual scientific observation, such as “birth of the etheric body from the physical body”, which corresponds to an actual event. But when we seek to make the transition from spiritual science in the narrower sense — which is concerned with the observation of the human being's direct experience of the day — to the approach taken in the individual specialized sciences, then what is initially expressed in such a formulaic way becomes something similar to a mathematical formula: it becomes method, method for dealing with the facts. And that is why this spiritual science can have a fruitful effect on the individual sciences, without always merely continuing into the individual sciences that which, admittedly, must be clearly borne in mind at the starting point: that the human being is structured into a physical body, etheric body, and so on. At the beginning one can and must know such things; but if spiritual science is to bring about a fruitful influence, they must become active, they must become a method, a way of treating even the empirically given 'facts'. And in this respect spiritual science, because it rises from the inorganic, where it can do little, through the organic into the spiritual realm, I would like to say, not only in the way the individual sciences can fertilize can, but it will, as a result of its findings, have confirmations of facts to hand over to them, which will shed light on what is gained from the other side through sensory-physical observation and then seen through with the mind. Spiritual and sensory-physical research must meet. And it is one of the most important tasks for the future to ensure that this spiritual research and this sensory-physical research meet.

In the process that manifests itself externally during the change of teeth, it becomes clear that what is designated as the etheric body – but by taking a concrete view, not a word concept, into the eye of the soul – becomes freely active for the entire human organism, after previously having had an organizing effect in the physical body. Now it rises into the soul, becomes free and then consciously works back to the whole human being to a certain degree.

Something similar occurs again with what manifests externally as sexual maturity. There we see how, once again, something arises in human experience that expresses itself, on the one hand, in a certain metamorphosis of the physical organism and, on the other hand, in a metamorphosis of the spiritual. And an essential part of the spiritual researcher's work is to acquire a concrete way of looking at what occurs in the soul and spirit, just as someone who only wants to educate themselves through external observation acquires a concrete way of looking at what they can see with their eyes and combine with their mind. Soul cannot be looked at in this way, but can only be looked at in its reality through imagination. There is no true psychology that does not begin with imaginative observation, and there is no way to find the interrelationship of body and soul or physical body and spiritual soul other than to build a bridge between what is given to external physical sensory perception as the physical body, and what falls away from this perception, what can only be given as reality in the ascent to supersensible knowledge, the spiritual-soul.

If we now turn to what occurs during puberty, we must say: here we see, in a certain sense, the reverse process of what took place when the teeth changed. We see how what plays as the capacity for desire in man, what is the instinctive character of his will, takes hold of the organism in a way it did not take hold of it before. Summarizing the whole broad complex of facts that this involves in a formulaic way, it comes about that one says: the one in which the nature of desire slumbers, the astral body of the human being, becomes free when sexual maturity occurs. It is this body that now, if I may express it in this way, sinks freely into the physical organism, takes hold of it, permeates it, and thus materializes desire, which finds expression in sexual maturation.

Now, what does an appropriate comparison of these two processes show? We see, so to speak, when the change of teeth occurs, a liberation of the etheric body of the human being. How does what is happening actually express itself? It expresses itself in such a way that the human being becomes capable of further developing the formation of concepts, in general the movement in the life of ideas, which used to be more bound to his whole organism, bound to the organization of the head. To a certain extent we see, and spiritual science sees it not only to a certain extent but in its reality, that the etheric, which we ascribe to the human being as an etheric body, withdraws with the change of teeth to that which only lives in the rhythm of the human organism and in the metabolic limb-organism, and that it develops a free activity in the formation of the head, in the plastic formation of the head, in which the consciousness life of the human being participates in the imagination. In a sense, the organization of the head is uncovered during this time. And if I may express myself figuratively about a reality that certainly exists, I must say that what drives itself to the surface from the entire human organization in the second teeth is the soul-spiritual activity that previously permeates the entire bodily organization and then becomes free. Before, it permeated the whole human being right into the head. It gradually withdraws from the head; and it shows how it withdraws by revealing its no-longer-to-the-head activity in that it stops and produces the second teeth. You can visualize this almost schematically. If I indicate schematically what the human physical organization is with the white chalk, and what the etheric organization is with the red chalk, then the following would result schematically (see figure):

[IMAGE REMOVED FROM PREVIEW]

In the figure on the left, you see the human being in his spiritual, soul and physical activity as he stands before you until his teeth change. In the second figure, which is to your right, you see how the etheric element has withdrawn from the immediate effect of the head organization, how it has become free in a certain respect, so that from there it can freely affect the human head organism. And the last thing that happens in the physical organism as a result of this activity of the soul-spiritual is the eruption of the second teeth. I would say that you can observe in its image what is being communicated to you here as a spiritual view if you take the skulls that Professor Römer showed you yesterday, because you can compare the insertion of the first teeth with the insertion of the second teeth. If you want to follow this logically, then you have to take as a basis what has been gained here from spiritual science. Then you have to say to yourself, the first teeth, with all that is expressed in them, are taken out of the whole human organization, including the head organization. What is expressed in the second teeth is taken out after the inner soul organization, insofar as it concerns the etheric body, has slowly withdrawn into the rhythmic and metabolic organism and become free for the main head organization. In a similar way, we can say — as I said, I can only give guidelines — that something is happening with sexual maturity. What we call the astral body is sunk into the physical body, so that it finally takes hold of it and brings about what constitutes sexual maturity.

But now what happens in the human being takes place in the most manifold metamorphoses. Once one has truly understood a process such as that which is expressed through sexual maturity, which brings about a certain new relationship in human development, in the development of the human being to the outer world, once one truly understands such a process inwardly, one then also recognizes it when it occurs in a certain metamorphosis. What occurs at puberty, in that it takes hold of the whole person, in that it, so to speak, forms a relationship between the whole person and their environment, is, I would say, anticipated in a different metamorphosis at the moment when language develops in the child. Only what takes place with sexual maturation in the child takes place in a different metamorphosis in the formation of speech. What takes hold of the whole human being at sexual maturation and pours into his relationship with the outside world takes place between the rhythmic and limb human being and the human being's head organization. To a certain extent, the same forces that take hold of the whole person during puberty and direct their relationship to the outside world assert themselves between the lower and upper human beings. And as the lower human being learns to feel the upper human being in the way that the human being later learns to feel the outside world, he learns to speak. A process that can be observed externally in a person at a later age must be followed in its metamorphosis until it appears as an internal process in the human organism, in the learning to speak: the process that otherwise occurs in the whole person at puberty.

And once we have grasped this, we are able to comprehend how the interaction of the lower human being — the rhythmic and the limb-based human being — in its reciprocity develops an inner experience of something that is also present externally in the nature around us. This inward experiencing of what is outwardly present leads to the fact that what remains outwardly mute in things as their own language begins to resound as the human language in the human inner being. Please proceed from this sentence as from a regulative principle. Proceed from this sentence that what is in things, as they become external, material, falls silent, that in dematerialization it becomes audible in the human being and comes to speak. Then you will find the way in which you do not develop a yap-yap or a bim-bim theory, but on which you see that which is external to things – and cannot be perceived by external observation because it is silent and only exists in a supersensible way – as language in the human interior.

What I am saying here is like drawing a line to indicate the direction in which one would most like to paint a wide-ranging picture. I can only present this rather abstract proposition regarding the relationship between the things and facts of the external world and the origin of human language in the inner life. And you will see everything you can sense about language in a new light when you follow the path from this abstractly assumed sentence, which initially sounds formulaic, to what the facts connect for you in terms of meaning. And if you then want to apply what has been philologically obtained in this way to physiology, you will be able to learn about the connection between external sexual metamorphosis and linguistic metamorphosis by studying facts that are still present as a linguistic remnant of the sexual maturation metamorphosis in the change of the voice, that is, of the larynx in boys, and in some other phenomena that occur in women. If you have the will to engage with the facts and to draw the threads from one series of facts to another, not to encapsulate yourself in barren specialized sciences, but to really illuminate what is present in one science as fact , through the facts that come to light through other sciences, then the individual special sciences will be able to become what man must seek in them if he is to make progress on the path of his knowledge as well as on the path of his will.

In a context that might seem unrelated, we will see tomorrow in a very natural way how we can go from the change of teeth to the appearance of speech and then further back to what is the third on this retrogressive path: we see, so to speak, in what is expressed in the change of teeth, an interaction between the physical body and the etheric body. We see, in turn, in what is expressed in language, an interaction between the astral body and the etheric body. And thirdly, we must seek an interrelationship between the I and that which lives in man as an astral body, and we will be led to that which is the third in this retrospective consideration: to the embodiment of the spiritual-soul, to that which is born in the spiritual-soul. If one seeks the path from the change of teeth through the emergence of speech, the third stage is the stage of uniting the pre-existing human soul with the physical.

By walling up the way out of his consideration of the change of teeth to the consideration of language through his abstraction, Aristotle was forced to resort to the dogma that a new spiritual soul is born with each new human being. Due to a lack of will to continue on a path of knowledge, knowledge of human preexistence has been lost, and with it knowledge of all that truly leads to the knowledge of the human soul.

We see a historical connection, which, however, comes to expression in the treatment of certain problems, and we can say in conclusion: Today, according to the dictum of a philologist who is quite significant in the contemporary sense, philology and physiology are so opposed that they cannot understand each other. Why is this so? Because physiology studies the human body and does not come back to the mind in this study. If one pursues true physiology, then one finds the spiritual and psychological in man through the bodily in physiological observation. What happens when one pursues true philology? If one pursues true philology, then one does not reduce the logos to an abstraction, for which one then seeks to see through after-images, after-images in a scientific method, but one seeks to penetrate into that which one supposedly loves as a “philo”-logist, through imaginative and other forms of observation. But then, when one penetrates into that which has become shadowy and nebulous for today's philology, namely the genius of language, the creative genius of language, when one penetrates into it, then one penetrates through the spirit to the external corporeality.

Physiology finds the spirit by way of the inner body. Philology, when viewed correctly, finds what speaks and has fallen silent in things on the way out through the genius of language. It does not find bark and bim-bam, but rather finds the reason why words and language arise in us in the things that physically surround us. Physiology has lost its way because it stops at the body and does not penetrate inwardly through the body to the spirit. Philology has lost its way because it stops at the genius of language, which it then only grasps in the abstract, and does not penetrate into the inner being of the outer things from which what lives in the word resounds. If philology does not speak as if the wauwau and bimbam are imitated in an externally abstract way by man, but speaks about the external physicality in such a way that it becomes clear to it in imaginations, how the word arises from this external physicality, which echoes internally, so that when physiology has found spirit and philology has found physicality, they will find each other.

In this way I have traced the path that spiritual science in the anthroposophical sense wants to lead in conscientious work. I have only given a few hints in this particular field of introductory linguistics.

Now, these things are discussed among us, these things are striven for by us. While we strive for these things, so that they may bear witness to what is being striven for on a path of knowledge that arises entirely out of the spirit of our time. And while you can see from what is being striven for that there is probably a certain seriousness that can be measured against the seriousness that exists in other areas of life, Stuttgart, a meeting raged that trampled on most of our speakers, that had no intention of listening to anything, that did not want to engage with what we had to say, but that, through trampling and similar things, sought to crush what is being seriously pursued. And, addressing my fellow students, I may say: yesterday evening in Stuttgart, your colleagues were absent – not from the other faculty, but from the other attitude – they were not absent, they were present in the trampling.

Dear attendees, my dear fellow students! It will become ever clearer and clearer that there are those who, because they cannot be refuted – because they do not want to be refuted – because they do not want to engage with the new at all by inertly continuing with the old that has outlived itself, they will want to trample down on that with external force. Well, I would just like to appeal to you here in the sense that I do have faith in you, that you may say to yourself: We still have a say in this trampling down procedure! – But may this word become action.

Third evening of disputations

The questions did not relate to the theme of the day, “Linguistics”, but drew on problems dealt with earlier.

Dr. Steiner. Here is the question: It has been said that the three dimensions of space are not equal in structure – what is the difference?

In any case, the sentence was never formulated in this way: the three dimensions of space are “not equal in structure”, but what is probably meant here is the following. First of all, we have mathematical space, the space that we imagine – if we have an exact idea of it at all – as three mutually perpendicular dimensional directions, which we can thus define by the three mutually perpendicular coordinate axes.

In the usual mathematical treatment of space, the three dimensions are treated absolutely equally. We make so little distinction between the dimensions up-down, right-left, front-back that we can even think of these three dimensions as interchangeable. In the case of mere mathematical space, it does not matter whether, when we have the X-axis and the Z-axis perpendicular to each other, and the Y-axis perpendicular to them, we call the plane on which the Y-axis stands “horizontal” or “vertical” or the like. Likewise, we do not concern ourselves with the limitations of this space, so to speak. Not that we imagine it to be limitless. One does not usually ascend to this notion, but one imagines it in such a way that one does not concern oneself with its limits, but rather tacitly assumes that one can start from any point – let us say, for example, the X-direction and adding another piece to what you have already measured in the X-direction, to that again a piece and so on, and you would never be led to come to an end anywhere. In the course of the 19th century, much has been said against this Euclidean-geometric conception of space from the standpoint of meta-geometry. I will only remind you of how, for example, Riemann distinguished between the “unboundedness” of space and the “infiniteness” of space. And initially, there is no necessity for the purely conceptual imagination to assume the concept of “unboundedness” and that of “infiniteness” as identical. Take, for example, a spherical surface. If you draw on a spherical surface, you will find that nowhere do you come up against a spatial boundary that could, as it were, prevent you from continuing your drawing. You will certainly enter into your last drawing if you continue drawing; but you will never be forced to stop drawing because of a boundary if you remain on the spherical surface. So you can say to yourself: the spherical surface is unlimited in terms of my ability to draw on it. But no one will claim that the spherical surface is infinite. So you can distinguish, purely conceptually, between unlimitedness and infinity.

Under certain mathematical conditions, this can also be extended to space, can be extended to space in such a way that one imagines: if I add a distance in the X or Y axis, and then another and so on, and am never prevented from adding further distances, then this property of space could indeed speak for its unlimitedness, but not for the infinity of space. Despite the fact that I can always add new pieces, space does not need to be infinite at all; it could be unlimited. So these two concepts must be kept separate. So one could assume that if space were unbounded but not infinite, it would have an inward curvature in the same way as space does now, that is, in some way it would likewise recede into itself, like the surface of a sphere recedes into itself.

Certain ideas of newer metageometry are based on such assumptions. Actually, no one can say that there is much to be said against such assumptions; because, as I said, there is no way to derive the infinity of space from what we experience in space. It could very well be curved in on itself and then be finite.

Of course, I cannot go into this line of thought in detail, because it is almost the only one followed by the whole of modern metageometry. However, you will find sufficient evidence in the works of Riemann, Gauss and so on, which are readily available, to explore if you value such mathematical ideas.

From the purely mathematical point of view, therefore, this is what has been introduced into the, I would say rigid, neutral space of Euclidean geometry, which was only derived from 'unboundedness'. But what is indicated in the question is rooted in something else. Namely, that space, with which we initially calculate and which is available to us in analytical geometry, for example, when we deal with the three coordinate axes that are perpendicular to one another, that space is initially an abstraction. And an abstraction – from what? That is the question that must first be raised.

The question is whether we have to stop at this abstraction of “space” or whether that is not the case. Do we have to stop at this abstraction of space? Is this the only space that can be spoken of? Or rather, if this abstract concept of space is the only one that can legitimately be spoken of, then there is really only one objection that can be raised, and this is sufficiently addressed in Riemannian or any other metageometry. The fact of the matter is that, for example, Kant's definitions of space are based on the very abstract concept of space, in which one does not initially concern oneself with infinity or boundlessness, and that in the course of the 19th century, this concept of space was also shaken internally, in terms of its conceptual content, by mathematics. There can be no question of Kant's definitions still applying to a space that is not infinite but unlimited. In fact, much of the further development of the “Critique of Pure Reason” would be called into question, for example the doctrine of paralogisms, if one were obliged to move on to the concept of unlimited space curved in on itself.

I know that for the ordinary conception this concept of curved space causes difficulties. But from the purely mathematical-geometric point of view, nothing can be objected to what is assumed there, except that one is moving in a realm of pure abstraction that is initially quite far from reality. And if you look more closely, you will find that there is a strange circularity in the derivations of modern meta-geometry. It is this, that one starts out from the idea of Euclidean geometry, which is not concerned with the limitations of space. From this, one then gets certain derived ideas, let us say ideas that relate to something like a spherical surface. And then, in turn, by undertaking certain reconciliations or reinterpretations with the forms that arise, one can make interpretations of space from there. Actually, everything is said under the assumption of Euclidean coordinate geometry. Under this assumption, one arrives at a certain measure of curvature. One arrives at the derivations. All of this is done with the concepts of Euclidean geometry. But then one turns around, so to speak: one now uses these ideas, which can only arise with the help of Euclidean geometry, for example the measure of curvature, in order to arrive at a different idea that leads to a reorganization and can provide an interpretation for what has been gained from the curved forms. Basically, we are moving in an unrealistic area by extracting abstractions from abstractions. The matter would only be justified if empirical facts made it necessary to conform to the ideas of these facts according to what is obtained through such a thing.

The question, then, is: what is the experiential basis for the abstraction “space”? After all, space as such, as presented in Euclid, is an abstraction. What is the basis for what can be experienced, what can be perceived?

We must start from the human experience of space. Placed in the world, human beings, through their own activity of experience, actually perceive only one spatial dimension, and that is the dimension of depth. This perception, this acquired perception of the dimension of depth by the human being is based on a process of consciousness that is very often ignored. But this acquired perception is something quite different from the perception of the plane-like, the perception of extension in two dimensions. When we see with our two eyes, that is, with our total vision, we are never aware that these two dimensions come about through an activity of their own, through an activity of the soul. They are, so to speak, there as two dimensions. Whereas the third dimension comes about through a certain activity, even if this activity is not usually brought to consciousness. We actually have to first acquire the knowledge and understanding of how deep in space something lies, how far away from us any object is. We do not acquire the extent of the surface, it is given by observation. But we do acquire the sense of depth through our two eyes. The way in which we experience the sense of depth is indeed on the borderline between the conscious and the unconscious; but anyone who has learned to focus his attention on such things knows that the semi-unconscious or unconscious, never conscious, activity of judging the depth dimension is much more similar to an intellectual, or even a soul activity, an active soul activity than to everything that is only viewed on the plane.

Thus, the one dimension of three-dimensional space is already actively conquered for our objective consciousness. And we cannot say otherwise than: By observing the position of the upright human being, something is given in relation to this depth dimension — front-back — which is not interchangeable with any other dimension. Simply because a person stands in the world and experiences this dimension in a certain way, what he experiences there is not interchangeable with any other direction. For the individual, this depth dimension is something that cannot be exchanged for any other dimension. It is also the case that the grasping of two-dimensionality – that is, up-down, right-left, of course also when it is in front of us – is also tied to other parts of the brain, since it lies within the process of seeing, that is, within the sensory process of perception; while, with regard to localization in the brain, the emergence of the third dimension is quite close to those centers that are to be considered for intellectual activity. So here we can already see that in the realization of this third dimension, even in terms of experience, there is an essential difference compared to the other two dimensions.

But if we then move up to imagination, we get out of what we experience in the third dimension altogether: in imagination, we actually move on to two-dimensional representation. And now we have yet to work out the other imagination, the imagination of right and left, although this has been hinted at just as quietly as the development of the third dimension in objective imagining; so that there is again a specific experience in right and left. And finally, when we ascend to inspiration, the same applies to up and down.

For ordinary imagining, which is tied to our nervous sense system, we develop the third dimension. But when we turn directly to the rhythmic system by excluding the ordinary activity of the nervous sense system – which in a certain respect occurs when we ascend to the level of inspiration; it is not entirely precise to say this, but it does not matter for now – then we have the experience of the second dimension. And we have the experience of the first dimension when we ascend to inspiration, that is, when we advance to the third member of the human organization.

Thus that which we have before us in abstract space proves to be exact because everything we conquer in mathematics we extract from within ourselves. What arises in mathematics as three-dimensional space is actually something that we have within ourselves. But if we descend into ourselves through supersensible representations, it is not abstract space with its three equally valid dimensions that arises, but three different valences for the three different dimensions: front-back, right-left, up-down; they cannot be interchanged. From this follows yet another: if these three are not interchangeable, there is no need to imagine them with the same intensity. That is the essence of Euclidean space: that we imagine the X-, Y-, Z-axis with the same intensity – this is assumed for any geometric calculation.

If we hold the X-, Y-, Z-axis in front of us, then we must – if we want to stick with what our equations tell us in analytical geometry, but assume an inner intensity of the three axes – imagine this intensity as being of equal value. If we were to elastically enlarge the X-axis with a certain intensity, for example, the Y- and Z-axes would have to enlarge with the same intensity. That is to say, if I now grasp intensively that which I am expanding, the force of expansion, if I may say so, is the same for the X-, Y-, Z-axis, that is, for the three dimensions of Euclidean space. Therefore, applying the concept of space in this way, I would like to call this space rigid space.

Now, this is no longer the case when we take real space, of which this rigid space is an abstraction, when we take space as it is experienced by a human being. Then we can no longer speak of these three intensities of expansion being the same. Rather, the intensity is essentially dependent on what is found in the human being: the human proportions are entirely the result of the intensities of spatial expansion. And we must, for example, if we call the up-down the Y-axis, imagine this with a greater intensity of expansion than, for example, the X-axis, which would correspond to the right-left. If we were to look for a formulaic expression for this real space, if we were to express in formulaic terms what is meant by 'real' here, then again we would end up with a three-axis ellipsoid.

Now we also have the reason to imagine this three-axis space, in which supersensible thinking must live, in its three quite different possibilities of expansion, so that we can also recognize this space, through the real experience of the X-, Y- and Z-axis given to us with our physical body, as that which simultaneously expresses the relationship of the world bodies situated in this space.

When we imagine this, we must bear in mind that everything we think of out there in this three-dimensional cosmic space cannot be thought of as simply extending in different directions with the same intensity of expansion along the X-, Y- and Z-axes Z-axis, as is the case with Euclidean space, but we must think of space as having a configuration that could also be imagined by a triaxial ellipsoid. And the arrangement of certain stars certainly supports this. Our Milky Way system is usually called a lens and so on. It is not possible to imagine it as a spherical surface; we have to imagine it in a different way if we stick to a purely physical fact.

You can see from the treatment of space how little newer thinking is in line with nature. In ancient times, in older cultures, no one had such a conception as that of rigid space. One cannot even say that in Euclidean geometry there was already a clear conception of this rigid space with the three equal intensities of expansion, and also the three lines perpendicular to one another. It was only when people began to treat space in the manner of Euclidean geometry, in their calculations, that this abstract conception of space actually arose. In earlier times, quite similar insights had been gained, as I have now developed them again from the nature of supersensible knowledge. From this you can see that things on which people today rely so heavily, which are taken for granted, only have such significance because they operate in a sphere that is divorced from reality. The space that people use in their calculations today is an abstraction; it operates entirely in a sphere that is divorced from reality. It is abstracted from experiences that we can know through real experience. But today, people are often content with what abstractions are. In our time, when so much emphasis is placed on empiricism, abstractions are most often invoked. And people don't even notice it. They believe that they are dealing with things in reality. But you can see how much our ideas need to be rectified in this regard.

In every concept, the spiritual researcher does not merely ask whether it is logical. Although, in a certain sense, it is only a branch of Euclidean space, it is not really possible to grasp it conceptually, because one arrives at it through a completely abstract train of thought, in which one comes to a conclusion and, as it were, turns one's whole thinking upside down. When imagining, the spiritual researcher does not merely ask whether it is logical, but whether it is also in line with reality. That is the deciding factor for him in accepting or not accepting an idea. He only accepts an idea if this idea is in line with reality.

And this criterion of correspondence to reality will be given when one begins to deal with such ideas in an appropriate way, which is the justification for something like the theory of relativity, for example. It is logical in itself, I would like to say, because it only comprehends itself within the realm of logical abstraction, as logically as anything can be logical. Nothing can be more logical than the theory of relativity! But the other question is whether its ideas are realizable. And there you need only look at the ideas that are listed there as analogous, and you will find that they are actually quite unrealistic ideas that are just thrown around. It is only there for sensualization, they say beforehand. But it is not just there for symbolization. Otherwise the whole procedure would be in the air.

That is what I would like to say about the question. You see, it is not possible to answer questions that touch on such areas very easily. Now there is a question regarding the sentence: “The organism of an ancient Egyptian or Greek was quite different from that of modern man.

Dear attendees, I certainly did not say that! And at this point I must definitely draw attention to something that I often draw attention to, and really not out of immodesty: I am in the habit of expressing myself as precisely as I possibly can. And it is actually an extremely painful fact, not just for me personally, since it is tolerable, but from the point of view of the anthroposophical spiritual movement, that in the face of many things, for the formulation of which I have used all possible precautions to formulate the facts as adequately as possible, then everything possible is done, everything possible is said, and then these assertions are sent out into the world as “genuine anthroposophical teachings”. One of these assertions is that I am supposed to have said, “The organism of an ancient Egyptian or Greek was quite different from that of a modern man”.

It can be reduced to the following. I said: the modern way of thinking imagines too strongly that man, as a whole being, has basically always been as he is today, right down to a certain historical time. I usually only speak of “completely different,” of metamorphoses of man as such, where there are great differences, where man becomes “completely different” in a certain respect: in prehistoric times. But anyone who is able to penetrate to the subtleties of the structure and the innermost fabric – as a human being can in spiritual science – will find that a metamorphosis of the human being is constantly taking place, that, for example, the modern human being differs from the Egyptian or the Greek. Of course not in terms of external, striking characteristics, which are as striking as external physiognomy and the like. That is probably what is meant in the question, but that is not my opinion, because in terms of striking characteristics, modern man is of course not “completely different” from the Egyptian. But in terms of finer internal structural relationships, spiritual science comes to the following conclusion, for example. It has to be said that since the first third of the 15th century, humanity has become particularly adept at abstract thought, at moving more and more towards abstract trains of thought. This is also essentially based on a different structure of the brain. And through the method of spiritual science, the spiritual researcher can recognize the matter. Then it turns out that it is really the case that the brain has indeed changed in its finest structures since Egyptian times. The brain of the Egyptian was such that, to take one example, he also belonged to those of whom Dr. Husemann spoke, that the ancient Egyptian also had no sense for the blue color nuance and so on. In any case, we can see that the sense of abstraction occurs to the same extent as the nuances of blue emerge from mere darkness. What occurs in the life of the soul corresponds entirely to a physical metamorphosis. It is extremely important that we do not stop at the coarser aspects of human nature, as they are presented when we go back, for my sake, to the long periods of time that lie before history. Rather, if we want to consider human beings as humanity, we must also consider the finer structural changes during their historical existence.

Question: It would be interesting to hear, in a more intimate way, how this fact behaves.

Well, quite a lot has actually been said in these days, let us say, also through the things that Dr. Husemann has presented, about how this fact behaves. And if we were to go into other fields of fact, there would certainly be much that could be said about these other, very fine, intimate structural relationships of the human being.

Question: How do you explain the phenomenon of the well-known horse that solved all arithmetic and mathematical problems without difficulty, to the amazement of all scholars, and only then failed completely when the problems were written on pieces of paper in front of the examiner? If it is the case with the horse that none of those present in the room could see the problem, is this based on a strong suggestiveness on the part of the animal? And how does that come about?

I never want to talk about anything other than what I have investigated myself. And so, in answering this question, I would only like to share what I have experienced myself. For example, I don't know the famous Elberfeld horses. I also don't know the dog Rolf, I never had the honor of meeting him. Now, with regard to such things, I could always state that the story is all the more wonderful the less one is embarrassed by not really being able to see through it, to really get to know it. But I once saw Mr. von Osten's horse in Berlin. I can't say that the calculations that Mr. von Osten presented to the horse were extraordinarily complicated. But I was able to get an instant idea of what it was all about from what was going on there – although you had to look very closely.

I could only marvel at the strange theories that had been advanced about these things. There was a lecturer, I think his name was Fox or something like that, who was supposed to examine this whole story with the horse; and he now put forward the theory that every time the gentleman from the east gave some task, terribly small movements would occur in the eye or something like that. Another small movement would occur when Mr. von Osten says “three” like that, or when he says it like that; another movement would occur when he says “two”. So that a certain fine series of movements would come about if Mr. von Osten said, “three times two”; then the same sign of this movement would come again, six! And Mr. von Osten's horse should now be particularly predisposed to guess these fine movements, which the lecturer in question said he did not perceive in any way, but only assumed hypothetically. After all, the whole “theory” was based on the fact that Mr. von Osten's horse was much more perceptive, to a much greater extent in reality, than the lecturer who put forward this theory.

If you stick to the flashy blue thinking in hypothesizing, you can set up hypotheses in the most diverse ways. For those who have some insight into such matters, certain circumstances were of extraordinary value. During the entire time that Mr. von Osten presented his experiments to the amazed public with his horse, he gave the horse nothing but sweets – he had huge pockets in the back of his coat. And the horse just kept licking, and that's how it solved these tasks.

Now imagine that this has created a completely different relationship between the horse and Mr. von Osten himself. When Mr. von Osten continually gives the horse sugar, a very special relationship of love and intimacy develops between them. Now the animal nature is so extraordinarily variable due to the intimacy of the relationship that develops, both from 'animal to human and from human to animal'. And then effects come about that are actually wrongly described when they are called “mind reading” in the sense in which the word is often understood, but they are mediators for that which is not “subtle twitchings” that a private lecturer hypothetically posits, but which he himself says he does not see! No subtle twitches are needed to convey the solutions. It can be traced back to the following: imagine what went through the mind of Herr von Osten, who of course was vain enough to realize that the tension in the audience, made up of sensation-hungry people, was going through the most incredible twists and turns as he noticed it, and when he was then standing in front of the solution to the task, he gave the horse a piece of sugar. And add to that the effect on the horse of the mental relationship. It was truly not a command given by words or twitching, but an intimately given command that always went from Mr. von Osten to the horse when he gave him sweets to eat. Suggestion is probably not the right word. Relationships that take place between people cannot be transferred to every living being.

I have tried to show these things in concrete terms by highlighting a circumstance that many will consider trivial: the constant giving of sugar as something extraordinarily essential.

Question: Is there a possibility for pointing out a point of view that is just as stimulating for systematics in the field of mineralogy and crystallography as the idea of the primal plant is for botany or a new understanding of the periodic system of elements is for chemistry?

When we speak of crystal forms, we are dealing with forms that are actually different in their overall relationship to the cosmos, in their entire position in the world, than the forms that one can imagine in the Primordial Plant and, again, in the plant forms derived from the Primordial Plant, that is to say, in the possibility of real existence. For example, the principle applied to the design of the primeval plant could not be applied to the field of mineralogy or crystallogy. For there one is dealing with something that must be approached from a completely different angle. And one must first approach it by actually approaching the field of polyhedral crystal forms. And this approach, I can only hint at now. I have explained it in more detail in its individual representations in a lecture course that I gave for a smaller group. This approach is taken when one starts from the consideration, an internal dynamic consideration of the state of aggregation, let us say first of all from the gaseous state downwards to the solid. I can only draw the lines now; it would take too long if I were to explain it in detail, but I will hint at it. If one descends – if I may express it this way – from the gaseous state to the liquid state, then one must say: the liquid state of aggregation shows itself in that, as the one in the whole coherence of nature, a level-limiting surface, which is a spherical surface, and the degree of curvature of which can be obtained from any point on the surface by means of the transition to the tangent at that point. What you get there includes the shape that has its outer circumference in the spherical surface, and a point in the interior that is the same distance from this spherical surface everywhere.

If we now imagine the drop in an unlimited way, I do not say in an infinite way, but enlarged in an unlimited way, we get a level surface approaching the horizontal, and we have certain relationships in mind that are perpendicular to this level surface.

But we arrive at the same idea by observing the connections that arise when we simply regard our earth as a force field that can attract surrounding objects that are not firmly attached to it. If we regard the earth not as a center of gravity but as a spherical surface of gravity, then we arrive at the same result for this, I would say, gravitational figure as we need in another respect for the material constitution of the drop. So for a pure force context, we get something that corresponds to a material context. And in this way we arrive at a possibility for studying the formal relationships in the inorganic.

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So that we can say that in this context of forces, which is present in the whole body of the earth, we are always dealing with the horizontal plane. If we now move from this state of forces to one in which, let us say, there is not a point in the center to which the level surface refers as in the 'drop to the one center point', but rather several points, we would find a strangely composed surface. These relationships of the line to these 'centers' I would have to draw in the diagram in something like the following way: But if we now proceed—and now I am taking a great leap, which is well-founded, but in the short time available I can only hint at the true content—if we now proceed to assume these points not inside, within the system we are dealing with, but outside, then perhaps we would get a diagram that can be made diagrammatically in the following way: If we transfer the points into immeasurable distances, not into infinite distances, but into very great distances, then these curved surfaces, which are indicated here by curved lines, by curves, pass over into planes, and we would get a polyhedral form, which approximates to what we have before us in the known crystal forms.

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And indeed, spiritual scientific observation leads us to look at the crystal in such a way that we do not merely derive it from certain inner figurative forces in some material substance, but we relate it to the exterior of the cosmos, and we seek in the cosmos the directions that then, through the distribution of their starting points, result in what the individual crystal form is. In the individual crystal form, we actually get, so to speak, impressions of large cosmic relationships. All of this needs to be studied in detail. I fear that what I have been able to hint at, albeit only in a few very sparse lines, may already seem to you to be something very daring. But it must be said that today people have encapsulated themselves in their world of ideas in a very narrow area, and that is why they feel so uncomfortable when one does not stick to the conceptual world that is usually taken as a basis today, I would say is taken as a basis in all sciences. Spiritual science demands an - as experience makes necessary - immeasurable expansion of concepts compared to the present situation. And that is precisely what makes some people uneasy. They cannot see the shore, so to speak, and believe they are losing their way. But they would realize that what is lost through the expanse is gained again as a certain inner firmness and security, so that there is no need to be so afraid of what appears to be an expansion into the boundless.

Of course, it is much easier to make up some model or other — as was also mentioned today in a certain question — than to advance to such ideas. It is easier to say: the truth must be simple! — The reason why one says that the truth must be simple is not, in fact, that the truth really must be simple, because the human organism, for example, is incredibly complicated. Rather, the reason why it is said that the true must be simple is that the simple is convenient in thinking. That is the whole point. And it is necessary, above all, to advance to the fuller content if one really wants to understand reality bit by bit.

The question that was raised here still required that one should present three hours of theory. One cannot speak about the sun through “a brief answer to the question,” because one would be completely misunderstood. And I do not want that. — So, first of all, the answerable questions are answered provisionally.

Question: Does spiritual science find a transformation of the material earth with the entry of the Christ-Spirit into the earth? Is the effect of the power of Christ perhaps particularly expressed in one of the elements found in modern times?

What is the question? — Not true, one must only consider from which point of view such a question can be asked. The question is posed: Is the effect of the power of Christ expressed in the material earth? — You must only bear in mind that spiritual science, based on its research, has a very definite idea about the earth that does not coincide with what one imagines about the earth when one speaks of the “material earth” in the sense of the word “material” in today's language. So the question is actually without real content. If one speaks of something like an “influence of the power of Christ on the earth”, then, since this idea is in turn borrowed from spiritual science, one must also have the idea of the earth that applies to anthroposophy, to spiritual science. And how the power of Christ stands in a certain relationship to the whole metamorphosis of the earth can only be presented in the overall context that I have given in Occult Science. And there one also finds what is necessary to answer the question, if it is formulated correctly.

In response to requests from many course participants, a gentleman from Stuttgart will give a brief report on the lecture given the previous evening by the Pan-German General v. Gleich at a mass meeting in Stuttgart on “Rudolf Steiner as the prophet of a questionable teaching” (see Rudolf Steiner's reference to this at the end of the morning lecture, $. 139/140).

I would just like to add that the aforementioned General v. Gleich, quite a long time before, for weeks before, he proceeded to his lecture and to the writing of his pamphlet, wrote a letter to our friend Mr. Molt, as a concerned father, concerned about the misfortune that he, as the owner of a forty-year-old nobility, not only “handed over” his son to anthroposophy, but also to a completely un-noble lady who is an anthroposophist! As a concerned father, he wrote to our friend Molt, asking him to visit him. Mr. Molt did so, but said that he did not know what to do with him. This was clear to him from the fact that Mr. v. Gleich demanded that we “of the threefold social order movement” should henceforth pay the son of General v. Gleich, who was employed by us, so little that the young man would not be able to marry, and that we should at least protect General v. Gleich from this marriage of his son by paying him so little. After these events, it was understandable that one could not expect the best from General von Gleich's lecture. We then actually saw even the worst expectations exceeded! It was the case with this lecture that Gleich essentially presented the content of a brochure – somewhat more fully developed, we might say – that appeared in Ludwigsburg at the same time. It had already been arranged that this brochure should appear at the same time as the lecture. In this brochure, he makes various accusations against anthroposophy in the most uninformed way, without providing any evidence for what he says – anyone who reads this brochure can see that for themselves – by actually only using the opponents of anthroposophy. This is clear from the brochure's table of contents: a few references to literature where one can find out about anthroposophy. One would think that these would be the anthroposophical books, but no, there are about twenty opponents, with the most shameless one right at the front: Max Seiling! Von Gleich essentially brings nothing new to the table that cannot be found in Seiling's brochure, only in the way General von Gleich used to give his lecture. And it was the case that this lecture was announced “without discussion”. There were numerous followers of the anthroposophical movement in the audience. After he had finished the lecture, which was full of the harshest expressions and included some of the most crude slander, he simply left the hall without entering into any discussion. And when someone tried to get a word in edgewise, and when Mr. Molt, who was there and was also personally attacked several times in the lecture, shouted: “He hereby publicly declares – he shouted this into the hall, in which there was a raging was a raging crowd of Mr. v. Gleich's supporters, he did not consider it worth replying to anything. He had already left the hall. On the other hand, the supporters, who were equipped with whistles and other noisy instruments, tried to shout down the anthroposophists who wanted to object. And it was quite close to a brawl. It was very difficult to protest against the most serious defamations, since the whole meeting immediately took on a threatening character, and it was clear that it would come to a brawl.

There followed some reports about the previous lecture by v. Gleich in Ludwigsburg. Finally, a letter from General v. Gleich to his son was read out.

I would just like to say a few words. Can I have this letter again? I would just like to make a formal comment, a comment that does not concern the matter itself. So, in the letter from Mr. v. Gleich to his son, it says: “[...] If only God had willed that you, a decent Christian nobleman, had fallen for your fatherland, then I could at least mourn you with pride [...] I pray to God to take the blindness from you again, so that you may awaken from it again [...].” (space in the postscript).

As you can see, a lot has been said about Mr. von Gleich's own Christianity; I would like to emphasize this: his own Christianity, in comparison with the unreasonable demand that we have been made to pay our son so badly that he cannot marry. That seems to me a very Christian act! And I do not want to be distracted by these “little piquant matters”, which are also on this program, and talk about the seriousness of the situation. Because I know very well that what happened yesterday in Stuttgart is not an end, but a beginning, that behind it stands a strong organization. And it is precisely out of this feeling that I may thank such a personality as the one who has just spoken - out of a real inner feeling for what Anthroposophy at least wants to be. But I would like to point out the seriousness of the situation and the necessity to act in the spirit of this serious situation.

What I want to say must, of course, be distinguished from a certain understanding that one can also have of such Christians as General von Gleich, for example, who is a Christian! I do not want to make a comparison, not even a formal one, but I just want to say something that I had to remember with this kind of Christianity. There are, in fact, very different kinds of Christianity, even of Orthodox Christianity. When the criminal anthropologist Moritz Benedikt started working and writing in criminal anthropology, he initially found little understanding in Vienna. He then found extraordinary understanding in a director of a home for dangerous criminals in Hungary. He was given the opportunity to examine the skulls of criminals, including the skulls of the most dangerous Hungarian criminals. Among them were the strangest people, including a very devout Orthodox Christian, who, of course, could not behave towards Professor Benedikt in accordance with his Christian intentions. He was very angry with him because he was allowed to examine his skull. And he was especially angry about it because he had heard that the prison director had agreed that Professor Benedikt would get to study particularly characteristic criminal skulls after death. And since he was not released to the professor Benedikt in this institution, he wanted to be at least presented to this Benedikt in chains. During this presentation, he said that he could not admit that, given his Christian beliefs, he should allow his skull to be sent to the professor Benedikt in Vienna after his death; he would then be buried here, and his skull would lie around in Vienna! And he wanted to know how his body and his skull would be brought together at the resurrection. He believed so much in his bodily resurrection – he was a real criminal, I think even a murderer.