The Rudolf Steiner Archive

[On the banks of the great river, swollen and overflowing after heavy rains, the old ferryman lay in his little hut, tired from the day's exertions, and slept.

The ferryman – the lower forces of nature – rests on the far bank – the mental plane – of the river – the astral desire plan.

Then two will-o'-the-wisps come along: people in whom only Kama-Manas lives, that is, the lower mind, which draws its knowledge from the lower material plane. The will-o'-the-wisps want to pay the ferryman with their gold, which they shake out of themselves. He has no use for that; the lower mind cannot control the lower forces of nature. The ferryman gathers up the gold knowledge in horror.

If a piece of gold had fallen into the water, the stream,

— the passion —

which this metal cannot endure,

— gold and knowledge stir up the passions —

rose in terrible waves, engulfing the ship and me. And who knows how it would have gone for you! Take your money back with you,

says the ferryman.

We cannot take back what we have shaken off,

say the will-o'-the-wisps. Quite right too; earthly wisdom cannot pick up what it has let go. The ferryman demands his reward from the will-o'-the-wisps: fruits of the earth; three cabbages, three onions, three artichokes. The will-o'-the-wisps cannot give them to him, but they promise to get them. The ferryman carefully collects the gold in his cap and sails along the river to a rocky area on the same side where the will-o'-the-wisps are, who call to him in vain once more, where the water can never reach it, and pours the dangerous gold into a huge crevice; then he returns to his hut.

In this crevice [was] the beautiful green snake,

— the higher Manas —

which was awakened from its slumber by the coin falling down.

She devours the gold with eagerness, which melts in her interior and illuminates her, causing her joy and pleasure. Then she seeks the giver of the gold, paying no attention to hardships and dangers.

Very tired, she finally came to a damp reed where our two will-o'-the-wisps were playing now and then.

She is pleased to find kinship in them. The will-o'-the-wisps also greet her warmly, but say that they are

only related by appearance.

The snake feels uncomfortable in the presence of her acquaintance; she cannot stretch up to them and fears losing her own appearance. She asks the gentlemen about the origin of the gold, which she believes came down from the sky as a shower of gold. The will-o'-the-wisps shake with laughter and scatter new gold, which the snake devours with greed and thus becomes ever more radiant, while the will-o'-the-wisps diminish and shrink, but always remain merry. The snake wants to show her gratitude and promises to serve them.

The will-o'-the-wisps ask for directions to the beautiful lily – the highest bliss – and learn to their dismay and sorrow that she lives beyond the water, where they come from. They ask the snake to call the ferryman for them so that he will take them back across. To their dismay, they learn that the ferryman is allowed to ferry anyone across, but no one back across. Into the [earthly] world we are transported by natural forces, but back to the higher world, man must transport himself.

The will-o'-the-wisps ask how this can be done. The snake gives them two options: she herself offers to ferry them across at noon. But this hour does not suit the gentlemen. The second option is offered by the giant – Death – whose body is powerless, but whose shadow – sleep, deep sleep, trance –

much, yes everything

can do. His shadow lies over the river in the evening and in the morning, and the gentlemen could use that as a bridge. The will-o'-the-wisps move away, the snake is glad to be rid of them. She returns to her rocky gorge. There she has already made a strange discovery. Through a crevice in the rocks, she had come to a place where she found things that were foreign to her. Until then, she had only encountered natural products, which she could easily distinguish by touch even in underground spaces: the pointed crystals, the

hooks and hairs of solid silver,

and she also brought many a precious stone up to the light. At the mentioned place, now, to her great astonishment, she found smooth walls and things made by human hands; beautiful columns and so on and human figures, around which she had wrapped herself and looked at them. She now wanted to examine these things, too, by means of her sight, now that she had become luminous, in order to get a complete idea of them. With her light she could not quite illuminate the cave in which she had entered by the familiar route, but she recognized the individual objects she came close to. In a niche stood the portrait of a king, made entirely of pure gold. Although depicted in superhuman size, it seemed to

the likeness of a little rather than a large man.

The golden king

asked, 'Where comest thou?' 'From the crevices,' answered the snake, 'where gold dwells.' 'What is more glorious than gold?' asked the king. 'The light,' replied the snake. 'What is more refreshing than light?' asked the king. 'Conversation,' answered the snake.

In the next niche sat a silver king - Budhi -

of long and rather slight build,

adorned with a magnificent robe,

crown, belt and scepter, adorned with precious stones. He wore the serenity of pride on his face and seemed about to speak when, on the marble wall, a vein that ran dark through it suddenly brightened and a pleasant light spread through the entire temple. In this light, the snake saw the third king, who sat there in the mighty form of a god, leaning on his club, adorned with a laurel wreath, and looking more like a rock than a human being. She wanted to look for the fourth king, who was standing at the greatest distance from her, but the wall opened up, with the illuminated vein flashing like lightning and disappearing.

A man dressed in rustic clothes entered, holding a small lamp,

whose quiet flame one gladly gazed into and which, in a wonderful way, without casting even a single shadow, illuminated the entire cathedral.

The man with the lamp is religion.

“Why do you come when we have light?” asked the golden King, the Thinker. You know that I am not allowed to illuminate the dark.

The power of religion only has an illuminating effect when it is met by another power. Religion must be met by faith, otherwise it cannot illuminate people.

“Is my kingdom coming to an end?” asked the Silver King

— Budhi, the spirit of life, the spiritual body.

“It's either that or never,” replied the old man. “When will I arise?”

— that is, gain my sovereignty — the brazen king — the spirit man, Atma —

to ask. 'Soon,' the old man replied. 'With whom shall I unite?' asked the king. 'With your elder brothers,' said the old man. 'What will become of the youngest?' asked the king. 'He will sit down'

- an expression for the laying down of the rule -

said the old man. 'I am not tired,' cried the fourth king in a hoarse, stammering voice.

The fourth king is a symbol for the four lower, perishable basic parts of man; thus:

firstly, the physical body,

secondly, the etheric body – linga sharira,

thirdly, the sentient soul body – astral body, and fourthly, the mind soul – lower manas, kama manas – that is, the mind, the power of thought, which is still and desires, and is therefore incapable of recognizing the higher, the divine, the higher Manas, the real thinker, the true human being, and even less the spiritual man, Atma. Meanwhile, the snake had crept around the temple

and now saw the fourth king near by. He was leaning against a column, and his stately figure was rather heavy than beautiful. Only the metal from which he was cast could not easily be distinguished. On closer inspection, it was a mixture of the three metals from which his brothers were formed. But at the casting, these materials did not seem to have melted together properly; golden and silver veins ran irregularly through a brazen mass, giving the image an unpleasant appearance.

Meanwhile, the golden king said to the man, “How many secrets do you know?” — “Three,” the old man replied. “Which is the most important?” asked the silver king. “The Manifest,” answered the old man. ‘Will you then reveal it to us?’ asked the brazen king. ‘I will do so as soon as I know the fourth,’ said the old man. ‘What do I care!’ murmured the composite king to himself. ‘I know the fourth,’ said the snake, approaching the old man and hissing something in his ear. ‘It is time!’ shouted the old man in a mighty voice. The temple resounded, the metal statues sounded, and in that moment the old man sank to the west and the snake to the east, each sweeping through the crevices of the rocks with great speed.

The rock that is described here is a description of the ancient mystery temples, where the disciples were initiated into the mysteries of existence. The basic parts of the human being were symbolically depicted there. There are still many such temples in India, and since the spiritual life no longer permeates people as it did in ancient times, when the intellect and reason were not yet developed, they have been abandoned and destroyed and demolished by wild hands; even as ruins, they still make a magnificent, sometimes horrifying impression. The figures that are symbolically depicted there and that present a hideous image to our eyes were once, when viewed with the eye of the mind, a means to first understand the higher life and then, after reaching maturity, to see it for oneself. We Westerners see them only as hideous idols; the Oriental sees through the outer form to the meaning of the symbols. They have not yet developed a sense of beauty for form. In ancient times, when the grotesque images were created, the external form was so unimportant to them that they used it only to express an idea, just as we now use language, written language, as a medium to communicate to our fellow human beings the things we have grasped in our minds. The crude way in which we Westerners often judge these things, the proselytizing that sought its mission in the destruction of “idols,” testifies to a complete ignorance of these things.

The snake whispered in the old man's ear that it was ready to sacrifice itself completely, and then the old man cries:

It is time!

whereupon the temple resounds. We don't need oriental wisdom to understand this “resonance”. Goethe gives us an explanation in his “Faust” prologue in heaven:

The sun resounds in the ancient way
In brotherly spheres of competitive song.

Heaven – the Devachan – is the plane where it resounds. Sound has its realm there.

Resounding for spiritual ears
The new day is already born!

The snake, the intellect that seeks enlightenment, goes east, the man with the lamp – religion – goes west.

All the passageways through which the old man walked were immediately filled with gold behind him; for his lamp had the wonderful property of transforming all stones into gold, all wood into silver, dead animals into precious stones, and crushing all metals. But to show this effect, it had to shine all alone; if another light was beside it, it only had a beautiful, bright glow, and all living things were always refreshed by it.

The old man entered his hut, which was built against the mountain, and found his wife in the greatest distress. She sat by the fire and wept, and could not be consoled. “How unhappy I am,” she exclaimed; “I did not want to let you go today!”

In answer to the husband's question, the wife tells him that during his absence two gentlemen – the will-o'-the-wisps – had been with her and behaved very intrusively.

"And just look around you at the state of the walls; just look at the old stones that I haven't seen in a hundred years: they have licked all the gold off, you wouldn't believe how nimbly, and they kept assuring me that it tastes much better than ordinary gold.

Then they became more and more insolent, caressed her, and called her queen, shook herself so that a quantity of gold pieces were scattered about, and to make matters worse, her pug dog ate some of them, and now he was lying dead by the fireside.

“I only saw it after they had gone, otherwise I would not have promised to pay off her debt to the ferryman.” “What is she indebted for?” asked the old man. “Three cabbages,” said the woman, “

The old woman is the soul, the ordinary sensual life of man. The will-o'-the-wisps – rational science – lick up the gold – historical knowledge – and scatter it again. It flatters the lower nature, but has no invigorating power; the pug that eats of it dies. Natural science denies the power of life, and without the invigorating power of the lamp – the light that religion brings – life dies through dead knowledge. In the first round, the mineral kingdom contains the form for wisdom. Three times three is nine – human sensuality. Three cabbages, three onions, three artichokes. Man has passed through the three kingdoms. The woman pays for the torrent of passions with fruits of the earth. The cabbage, the shellfish, [represents] the leaves; the onion, the essence, which consists of covers, [represents] the root; the artichoke [represents] the fruit. She [the old man's wife with the lamp] has to pay this [tribute] to the stream.

“You may do them the favor,” said the old man; “for they will serve us again on occasion.”

[The old man] extinguishes the fire, carefully collects the remaining gold pieces,

and now his lamp alone was again shining in the most beautiful splendor, the walls were covered with gold, and the pug had become the most beautiful onyx. “Take your basket,” said the old man, “and put the onyx in it; then take the three cabbages, the three artichokes, and the three onions, place them around it, and carry them to the river! About noon let the snake carry you over, and visit the beautiful lily, and give her the onyx! She will bring it to life by her touch, as she kills everything alive by her touch; she will have a faithful companion in it. Tell her not to grieve, her deliverance is near, she may regard the greatest misfortune as the greatest happiness, for the time has come.” The old woman packed her basket and set off during the day. The rising sun shone brightly over the river, which glistened in the distance; the woman walked slowly, for the basket weighed heavily on her head, and yet it was not the onyx that weighed so heavily

, but the fresh vegetables.

She did not feel the dead weight she was carrying; but when she lifted her basket up, it floated above her head. But carrying fresh vegetables or a small, live animal was extremely difficult for her. She had been walking along discontentedly for some time when she suddenly stood still with a start; for she almost stepped on the shadow of the giant that stretched across the plain to her. And now she saw the enormous giant, who had bathed in the river, rising out of the water, and she did not know how to avoid him. As soon as he saw her, he began to greet her playfully, and his shadow's hands immediately reached into the basket. With ease and skill, they took out a cabbage, an artichoke, and an onion and brought them to the giant's mouth, who then went further up the river, leaving the woman the way free.

The old woman considered whether she should turn back and fetch what was missing from her garden, but she kept going until she came to the river and waited a long time for the ferryman. Finally he came. A young, noble, beautiful man got out of the boat.

What do you bring?

the ferryman called.

It is the vegetables that the will-o'-the-wisps owe you,

replied the woman. The ferryman did not want to accept it, as there was a shortage of each kind. Although the woman begged and pleaded to accept the gift, she could not go back the arduous way, but he refused,

by assuring her that it did not even depend on him. “What is due to me, I must leave together for nine hours, and I must not accept anything until I have given a third to the river [...] There is still a remedy. If you want to guarantee against the river and confess as a debtor, I will take the six pieces with me; but there is some danger in it.” “If I keep my word, I shall not be in any danger?” ‘Not the slightest.’ ‘Put your hand into the river, and promise that you will pay off the debt in twenty-four hours.’ The old woman did so, but how frightened she was when she pulled her hand out of the water, as black as coal!

The old woman is very unhappy that her beautiful hand has turned black and is even beginning to fade.

“It only seems so,” said the ferryman; “but if you do not keep your word, it may come true. The hand will gradually fade away, [...] without your losing the use of it. You will be able to do everything with it, only no one will see it.“ — ‘I would rather not be able to use it and not be recognized,’ said the old woman. However, that does not mean anything; I will keep my word to get rid of this black hand and this worry soon.”

Three times three is nine, the number of human sensuality; she has passed through all three realms. The woman pays for the torrent of passions with the fruits of the earth. She must pay the tribute to the torrent. The cabbage symbolizes the leaves, the onion the root, the artichoke the fruit. All three are shell plants.

The soul essence – the woman – loses some of the fruits and shoots that she has acquired through hard work in the garden through sleeping, dreaming and a lack of vigilance. But she has committed to paying the debt of the will-o'-the-wisps – the power of reason. Reason alone cannot produce leaves, flowers or fruits; it leaves that to the soul forces. But the lower natural forces – the ferryman – insist on their right; the stream of passions also wants to be satisfied. However, since the woman lacks the sufficient means to do so, she atones for it with her body. She does not lack the strength, but her body is very disfigured because she has dipped her hand into the stream. If a person gives in to passion, he will suffer damage. It is very indicative of man's low mentality that the woman is much more concerned about appearances – what will people say? – than about the loss of her ability to work, which, according to the ferryman, she does not actually risk.

The woman now picks up the basket again, which floats freely above her head,

and hastened after the young man, who walked gently and thoughtfully along the shore. His magnificent figure and strange attire had made a deep impression on the old woman. His chest was covered with a shiny armor through which all parts of his beautiful body moved. Around his shoulders hung a purple cloak, around his uncovered head waved brown hair in beautiful curls; his sweet face was exposed to the rays of the sun, as were his beautifully built feet. With bare soles, he walked calmly over the hot sand, and a deep pain seemed to blunt all external impressions.

The old woman tried to start a conversation with him, but he barely responded. This bored her and she recommended herself, saying that she had to hurry to cross the river via the green snake and deliver her husband's gift to the beautiful lily. When the young man hears this, he takes courage and runs after the woman.

“You are going to the beautiful lily!” he exclaimed;
“we are going the same way."

On the way, they exchange their fates. The youth describes his miserable state: his armor and purple robes have become only a useless burden and adornment for him, his crown, scepter and sword are gone, he is

naked and destitute as every other son of earth, for her [the lily's] beautiful blue eyes have such an unfortunate effect that they take away the strength of all living beings and those whom her touching hand does not kill feel transported into the state of living shadows.

He envies the pug dog, because it would gain life through her touch.

The youth represents humanity in general. It is sick with longing for life. The eternal feminine draws it on. When man strives for higher knowledge, paralysis overtakes him: without a firm moral foundation, it is dangerous to seek higher knowledge. The stormy assault results in death. Love kills life; but it kills so that true life may arise. Die and become.

He who does not die before he dies, will perish when he dies.

The lower self must die. Thus, death is the root of life.

They now come to the bridge, are amazed at the splendor of the green snake, which sparkles with jewels all over; high arched, it swings over the river. Once across, they notice that several other travelers have crossed over with them – the will-o'-the-wisps, which they cannot see, but whose presence is betrayed by their hissing with the snake, which joins them after the crossing. The woman, youth, and snake now go to the white lily, while the will-o'-the-wisps look around the queen's garden for a while until dusk falls.

The old woman approaches the royal maiden first and is so enchanted by her beauty and her lovely singing to the harp that she breaks out into enthusiastic praise. The lily speaks:

Do not grieve me with untimely praise! I feel only the more strongly my misfortune.

She says that her canary, her greatest joy and delight, was frightened by a hawk, fled to her bosom and died there. She is inconsolable, because the culprit, paralyzed by her gaze, is serving his sentence by the pond, and that cannot help her. Her bird – the prophetic power – is dead and must be buried.

“Be of good cheer, beautiful lily!” cried the woman, [...] “My age bids me tell you [...] that you shall regard the greatest misfortune as a harbinger of the greatest happiness, for the time is at hand.

Then she tells of her misfortune and asks the lily to give her the missing cabbage, onion and artichoke so that she can pay her debt and her hand will turn white again. The lily is happy to give the cabbage and onion [– roots and leaves –], but the garden, in which fresh greenery had sprung up on the grave of her favorite but which never bore fruit, does not have an artichoke – a fruit.

The woman pays little attention to the speech of the beautiful lily; she sees to her horror the hand growing blacker and blacker and fading more and more, and is about to leave when she remembers the pug, which she now gives to the lily.

The beautiful lily looked at the gentle animal with pleasure and, [...] with amazement. 'Many signs are coming together,' she said, 'that inspire some hope in me; but alas! is it not merely an illusion of our nature that when many misfortunes occur we imagine the best is near?'

What good are the many good signs to me?
The bird's death, the friend's black hand?
The pug of precious stone, does it have its match?
And didn't the lamp send it to me?
Removed from sweet human enjoyment,
I am only familiar with misery.
Ah! why is the temple not by the river!
Ah! why has the bridge not been built!'

Impatient with the long song, the woman wants to leave when she is stopped by the appearance of the snake. She approaches the beautiful lily and encourages her:

The prophecy of the bridge is fulfilled!

Much more gloriously than before, it rises above the river, shining with precious stones, says the woman. But the lily does not yet consider the prophecy fulfilled, since only pedestrians can cross the bridge; but the promise is that horses and carriages would also cross a solid bridge – whose pillars would rest in the river – that would rise out of the river.

The old woman, still gazing at her hand, is about to take her leave, when the lily begs her to take her poor canary with her.

"Ask the lamp to change him into a beautiful topaz; I will revive him with my touch, and he, with your good pug, will be my best pastime. But hurry, whatever you can, because at sunset, unbearable rot will take hold of the poor animal and tear apart the beautiful structure of his form forever.” The old woman laid the little corpse among delicate leaves in the basket and hurried away.

The snake continued the conversation:

“The temple is built,” said the Snake. “But it is not yet by the river,” said the Lily. “It still rests in the depths of the earth,” said the Snake. “I have seen and spoken to the kings.” “But when will they rise?” asked the Lily. The Snake said, “I heard the great words resound in the temple: It is time!” A pleasant serenity spread across the face of the beautiful woman. 'I have heard the happy words for the second time today; when will the day come when I hear them three times?'

Now follows the description of her retinue, the three lovely handmaidens. The pug comes to life at her touch, and even if there is only half life in him, he still likes to play with her.

The sad young man approaches, exhausted and pale, he approaches his beloved. He carries the hawk – the symbol of the diviner of the future, prophet of the mysteries – in his hand.

“It is not kind,” cried Lily, “to bring me the hated animal that [...] killed my little singer today.” “Do not scold the unfortunate bird!” replied the youth; “Rather, blame yourself and fate and allow me to keep you company in your misery.”

The young man, jealous of the pug with which the beautiful lily plays and presses to her bosom, awakens the last remnant of his courage. He makes a violent movement, the hawk flies up, but he rushes at the beauty, and the misfortune happens: he falls dead at her feet. In silent despair, the lily looks for help. The snake forms with her body

a wide circle around the corpse, grasped the end of her tail with her teeth and remained still.

The handmaidens, the first of whom brings the chair, approach again, the second lays a fire-colored veil around the head of the mistress, the third brings the harp. The lily had scarcely coaxed a few notes from the instrument when the first servant brought a mirror and held it before the lady, so that she saw her magnificent image, made even more beautiful by her mourning, in it.

Who will create us the man with the lamp,

the snake hissed. The beauty just sobbed. At that moment, the woman came running up, out of breath:

I am lost and maimed!

she exclaimed. Neither the ferryman nor the giant wanted to take her across.

Forget your troubles and help us here. Seek out the will-o'-the-wisps so that the giant's shadow can carry you and you can fetch the man with the lamp.

The lily waited with great sadness, the snake looked impatiently for help. Then,

high up in the air, she saw the hawk with its crimson feathers, whose breast caught the last rays of the sun. She shook with joy at the good omen, and she was not mistaken; for shortly afterwards, the man with the lamp was seen gliding over the lake, as if he were skating.

After he had explained his coming, he said:

“Be calm, most beautiful maiden! Whether I can help, I do not know; a single one does not help, but he who unites with many at the right hour. Let us postpone and hope. Keep your circle closed,” he said to the snake.

He himself sat down on a stone beside it, and let the light of the lamp fall on the corpse.

Bring also the dead canary.

It was laid on the corpse as well. The sun had set; the lamp, the snake, and the maiden's veil shone, each with its own light.

Sorrow and grief were softened by a sure hope.

Only the old woman, who had come with the will-o'-the-wisps, was full of apprehension for her hand. The will-o'-the-wisps chatted with the beautiful lily, and midnight came before anyone knew it.

The old man looked at the stars and then began to speak: 'We are together at a happy hour, each of us performing our duties, each doing our duty, and a general happiness will dissolve the individual pains in itself, like a general misfortune consumes individual joys.

The combined efforts of all were needed to provide relief. Each individual was absorbed in his task and spoke loudly about it, only the three maidservants had fallen asleep from exhaustion.

“Take,” said the old man to the hawk, “the mirror, and with the first ray of the sun illuminate the sleepers and wake them with the reflected light from on high!”

The snake now untied itself and slithered towards the river, the will-o'-the-wisps followed quite earnestly. The old man and his wife stretched the basket, which had its own glow that had not been noticed before, put the body of the youth inside and placed the dead canary on his chest. The basket rose up and hovered above the head of the old woman, who immediately followed the will-o'-the-wisps.

The beautiful lily took the pug on her arm and followed the old woman, the man with the lamp decided the train and the area was illuminated by these many lights in the most peculiar.

When they reached the shore, the company looked in amazement at the wonderful arch that the snake had formed across the river. The gems shone and radiated in wonderful beauty. When everyone had crossed, the snake also moved to the shore and closed the circle around the body again.

The ferryman, who had been looking out from his hut in the distance, gazed in amazement at the glowing circle and the strange lights that passed over it.

The old man bowed to the snake and said:

“What hast thou decided?” — ‘To sacrifice myself before I am sacrificed,’ replied the snake; ‘Promise me that thou wilt leave no stone unturned!’ The old man promised, and then said to the beautiful lily: ‘Touch the snake with thy left hand, and thy lover with thy right hand.’ The lily knelt down and touched the snake and the corpse. In that moment, the body seemed to come to life; it moved in the basket, even rising up and sitting. Lily wanted to embrace him, but the old man held her back, helping the youth to stand up instead and guiding him as he stepped out of the basket and the circle.

The youth stood, the canary fluttered on his shoulder, there was life in both of them again, but the spirit had not yet returned; the beautiful friend had his eyes open and did not see, at least he seemed to look at everything without participation.

When the astonishment at this event had subsided a little, the change that had taken place with the snake was noticed with amazement. The body had crumbled into a thousand and one gems when the old woman had carelessly pushed against them while she reached for her basket. The old man and his wife carefully collected the gems in their basket, carried them to a high place on the bank of the river and poured them into the stream. The old man now led the procession to the sanctuary; he walked ahead with the lamp. The youth followed half mechanically. The lily timidly trailed behind, the old woman sought to bring her hand into the light of the lamp, the will-o'-the-wisps closed the procession. The path led through the rock that opened before them. Soon they came to a large, brazen gate,

whose wings were closed with a golden lock. The old man immediately summoned the will-o'-the-wisps, who [...] busily consumed the lock and bolt with their pointed flames.

The entrance to the higher levels of consciousness must first be sought through the mind.

The ore sounded loudly when the gates quickly sprang open and the dignified images of the kings, illuminated by the incoming light, appeared in the sanctuary. Everyone bowed before the venerable rulers [...]. After a pause, the golden king asked: “Where do you come from?” “From the world,” replied the old man. “Where are you going?” asked the silver king. “Into the world,” said the old man. ‘What do you want with us?’ asked the brazen king. ‘To accompany you,’ said the old man.

The will-o'-the-wisps had approached the golden king. He fought them off and said:

Get away from me! My gold is not for your palate!

After they had lit the silver one, they crept past the brazen one to the mixed one.

“Who will rule the world?” the mixed king cried in a stammering voice. “He who stands on his feet.” answered the old man, “That is I!” said the mixed king. “It will reveal itself,” said the old man; “for the time has come.”

The beautiful lily fell around the neck of the old man and kissed him most warmly. “Holy Father,” she said, “a thousand thanks to you, for this is the third time I have heard the ominous word.” She had hardly finished speaking when she held even tighter to the old man, for the ground began to shake beneath them. The old woman and the youth also held on to each other; only the moving will-o'-the-wisps noticed nothing.

The temple first moved downwards, then passed under the stream, and during the ascent, the debris of the ferryman's small hut fell through the dome of the temple and covered the old man and the youth. The women had jumped aside.

The women screamed loudly, and the temple shook like a ship that suddenly hits the shore. The women wandered anxiously around the hut in the twilight; the door was locked, and no one heard their knocking.

To her amazement, the wood began to resound. Through the power of the closed lamp, the wood had turned to silver, and gradually expanded into a magnificent case of hammered work. Now there stood a small temple or altar in the middle of the large one.

By a staircase that went up from the inside, the noble youth now stepped up, the man with the lamp shone for him, and another seemed to support him, who came forth in a white, short robe and held a silver oar in his hand;

it was the ferryman, the former inhabitant of the transformed hut.

[By crossing the] bridge, which was necessary, the temple should apparently be, that could only happen through the interaction of all forces. Only through the sacrifice of the self was it possible to cross the stream of passions. The will-o'-the-wisps have to unlock the temple; one must have natural knowledge to penetrate the secrets.

The beautiful lily climbed the outer steps that led from the temple to the altar; but still she had to stay away from her lover. The old woman, whose hand

had almost completely disappeared, was very unhappy that with so many miracles, no miracle could save her hand.

Her husband pointed to the open gate and said: 'Behold, day is breaking; hurry and bathe thyself in the river!' – 'What advice!' she cried; 'I shall surely become quite black and disappear altogether; I have not yet paid my debt' – 'Go,' said the old man, 'and follow me! All debts are paid.' The old woman hurried away, and at that moment the light of the rising sun appeared at the crown of the dome; the old man stepped between the youth and the maiden and shouted in a loud voice: 'There are three who rule on earth: wisdom, appearance, and force'. At the first word the golden king rose, at the second the silver one, and at the third the brazen one had slowly raised himself, when the composite king suddenly sat down awkwardly.

The will-o'-the-wisps had been preoccupied with him for a long time and did not rest until they had also extracted the finest veins from his form. But that robbed him of all support and he collapsed, becoming an unformed lump.

The man with the lamp now led the beautiful youth, who was still gazing fixedly ahead, down from the altar and straight towards the brazen king. At the feet of the mighty prince lay a sword in a brazen sheath. The youth girded himself. '

— only for defense, not for attack —

“Right hand free!”

— to give blessings and peace —

the mighty king called out. They then went to the silver king, who inclined his scepter towards the youth. The youth seized it with his left hand, and the king said in a kindly voice: “Feed the sheep!” When they came to the golden king, he pressed the oak wreath on the youth's head with a fatherly, blessing gesture and said: “Recognize the highest!”

The old man, who had observed the youth closely during the proceedings, saw how, after the girding, his chest rose, his arms stretched and his feet stepped firmer;

By taking up the sceptre, his strength seemed to be softened and made even more powerful by an inexpressible charm; but when the oak wreath adorned his curls, his features came to life, his eye sparkled with inexpressible spirit, and the first word from his mouth was: “Lily.” 'Dear lily,' he cried, as he hastened up the silver steps towards her, [...] 'what more could a man, endowed with everything, desire than the innocence and quiet affection that your bosom bestows on me? Oh, my friend, he continued, turning to the old man and looking at the three sacred statues, 'glorious and secure is the kingdom of our fathers, but you have forgotten the fourth power that ruled the world even earlier, more generally, more certainly: the power of love. With these words he fell on his knees before the beautiful maiden; she had thrown aside her veil, and her cheeks were suffused with the most beautiful and most imperishable of all blushes. Then the old man said, smiling: 'Love does not reign, but it creates, and that is more.'

Unbeknownst to them, day had fully broken and the astonished eyes looked through the open gates:

a large square surrounded by columns formed the forecourt, at the end of which one could see a long and magnificent bridge that reached over the river with many arches.

This magnificent bridge was already teeming with all kinds of people on foot and in carriages. Happy in their mutual love, the king and his wife looked on the people with delight.

“Remember the snake with honor!” said the man with the lamp. ”You are its life; your peoples owe it the bridge by which these neighboring shores are first inhabited and connected. Those floating and glowing gems, the remains of her sacrificed body, are the pillars of this magnificent bridge; she built it herself and will sustain herself.” Just as one was about to ask him to explain this strange secret, four beautiful girls entered the temple gate. The harp, parasol and field chair immediately identified them as Lily's companions. But the fourth [...] was an unknown [...]. “Will you believe me more in the future, dear wife?” the man with the lamp said to the beauty. “Happy you and every creature that bathes in the river this morning!” The rejuvenated and beautified old woman [...] embraced [...] the man with the lamp, who accepted her caresses with kindness. ‘If I am too old for you,’ he said smiling, ”then you may choose another husband today; from this day on, no marriage is valid unless it is renewed.” “'Do you not know,' she replied, 'that you have grown younger too?' – 'I am glad if I appear to your young eyes as a worthy youth; I accept your hand anew and would gladly live with you into the next millennium.'"

The great giant, still recovering from his morning nap and staggering across the bridge, brought a disruption to the general happiness. As usual, he wanted to bathe in the river, drowsy as he was, and suddenly found the bridge, on which he clumsily stepped between humans and cattle. His presence was

by all wondered at, but felt by none; when, however, the sun shone in his eyes, and he raised his hands to wipe them, the shadow of his enormous fists passed behind him so powerfully and clumsily under the crowd that men and animals collapsed in large masses, were damaged, and risked being thrown into the river. The king, who saw this outrage, made an involuntary movement for his sword, but he recovered himself and looked calmly first at his scepter, then at the lamp and the oar of his companions. 'I divine your thoughts,' said the man with the lamp; 'but we and our powers are powerless against this powerless one. Be quiet! He is harming for the last time, and fortunately his shadow has turned away from us. Meanwhile, the giant had come closer and closer, had let his hands drop in amazement at what he saw with open eyes, was doing no more harm, and stepped into the forecourt, gawking. He was just walking towards the temple door when he was suddenly held to the ground in the middle of the courtyard. He stood as a colossal, mighty statue of reddish shining stone, and his shadow showed the hours, which were engraved in a circle on the ground around him, not in numbers, but in noble and significant images. The king was not a little pleased to see the shadow of the monster in a useful direction; [...] Meanwhile, the people had crowded around the giant, [...] and marveled at his transformation. From there, the crowd turned to the temple, which they seemed to have only just noticed, and pushed towards the door. At that moment, the hawk with the mirror hovered over the cathedral, caught the light of the sun and threw it over the group standing on the altar.

The hawk, the herald of the future, also teaches us to understand the laws. When these are understood, knowledge can be borne.

The king, the queen and their companions appeared in the twilight vault of the temple, illuminated by a heavenly radiance, and the people fell on their faces. When the crowd had recovered and stood up, the king and his party had descended into the altar to go to his palace through hidden halls, and the people scattered throughout the temple to satisfy their curiosity. They looked at the three upright kings with amazement and awe,

but when they came full of curiosity to the fourth, the shapeless lump was covered with a precious carpet that no one could lift. The people almost crushed each other in the temple if the will-o'-the-wisps had not attracted their attention. It was fun for them to shake off the gold they had sucked in as they moved away, which is why the people fell upon them with jokes and laughter.

The people ran eagerly back and forth for a while, pushing and pulling each other, since no more gold pieces were falling. Finally, they gradually dispersed, went their way, and to this day the bridge is teeming with travelers, and the temple is the most visited in the whole world.

There is still much to be interpreted. The snake that bites its own tail and encloses the dead youth is the Budhi principle, which must be lived and loved. The radiance of the divine - Atma - is peace, harmony, and universal consciousness. It has been achieved through the transformation of desire into love. Everything becomes young again.

The shattered hut of the lower forces is transformed by the spirit of life; now the lower forces can lead across and across. The giant - the forces of nature - have lost their destructive power; that is the conclusion that will only come after a certain period of time. The last enemy to be abolished is death. Then they [the forces of nature] only indicate the rhythmic measures of time. And the bridge over which the people can go unhindered back and forth to the temple? Is it not faith, independent faith, which has only become possible through the sacrificial death of Christ; faith that blesses, even without seeing the mysteries? But the highest is hidden from the eyes of the multitude. The king and queen descend from their throne and hide. All the glory will only become clear and evident to faith when wisdom is added to faith, only then can perfection be attained.

Let us briefly summarize what Goethe wanted to tell us with the “Fairytale”: It is the symbolic representation of the redemption of the individual as well as of the whole human race; the secret of becoming and passing away and of final bliss.

Many have ventured to interpret the “Fairytale”. People asked Goethe to provide an explanation himself. He promised to do so when a hundred explanations had been submitted. Thereupon all the explanations were collected and counted, but Goethe died before the number of a hundred was reached. Thus, a proper interpretation has been lacking until now. It was probably not yet time. The right interpretation can only be given by someone who knows the mysteries.

Many readers of Goethe's Faust will feel something very significant for every human soul and heart when they hear the poet's words resound, which depict how Faust, this representative of humanity's highest aspirations, how this Faust, after having gone through everything that can be our science of the most diverse branches can achieve, stands at a loss, struggling for a knowledge that means more than the satisfaction of the theoretical needs of the mind, that encompasses everything that is most needed by man in his darkest hours, for consolation and for uplifting of life, for strength of existence and for creativity in reality. And when we are pointed by the poet's words to a possibility of soaring beyond mere intellectual theory into the realm of the spiritual world, when we are pointed to the fact that there is something higher to be gained than theory and wisdom of the mind, it may well may well urge us, if we are interested in what is to be incorporated under the name of theosophy into modern spiritual paths, to look at what has flowed into German cultural life through Goethe from this particular angle. We may be urged to look into what actually lies behind that expression of Goethe's when, as Faust, he beholds the sign of the macrocosm before his eyes, he says that he now knows what the wise man means by the words:

The spiritual world is not closed,
Your mind is closed, your heart is dead!
Rise up, bathe, disciple, undaunted
The earthly breast in the morning dawn!

This is, in a sense, an invitation from Goethe's work itself to be viewed from the standpoint of spiritual science. Such a consideration of the work of great personalities who have had a profound effect on cultural life is very much in the realm of spiritual science, for this science can never fall into the error of other currents in claiming that everything that is truly valuable in terms of human knowledge has been created only through them. Mankind could then have little trust in a realization that would arise with the saying: “Like a shot from a pistol, it has only just been created.” Since human thinking and striving has existed, people have searched for truth. Should all those who preceded the truth researchers in question have searched in vain, only to be caught up in error?

How can we behave in a manner befitting a worthy attitude if we keep saying how we have come so gloriously far precisely with our wisdom? Theosophy does not make such demands. It seeks only to have the ancient wisdom that has always flowed into the hearts of those who have striven for truth and wisdom put into a special form and shape; this shall be given a new form that corresponds to the present life. Therefore, it is part of the task of Theosophy to inquire of the great minds of the past how their striving relates to what we are exploring today through our spiritual science.

We choose one who has achieved something so significant, Goethe, and if we place next to him someone who is unknown today and has been so for a long time, not unknown by name but by what he has wanted and commanded, Hegel, , then today's reflections may show us how, precisely, theosophical life makes it possible for us to appreciate some of the unrecognized, because theosophy is an instrument for finding and recognizing depths that would not be revealed in any other way. If we first immerse ourselves in Goethe, it is truly not difficult for us to find in his nature that basic trait of spiritual-scientific will and knowledge, which is characterized by seeing the invisible of the spiritual world in everything visible.

In everything visible we see the outer physiognomy of a spiritual, the outer expression of something supersensible, just as we see in the human countenance the expression of what lives in the spirit, in the soul. But we must not look at Goethe as some sycophants do, saying that Goethe had in his mind's eye what all mankind longs for, but was unwilling to express in clear words, unable to express it in quite definite forms of words, and that he sought to express it here in more obscure, nebulous feelings. The Swabian Vischer, the author of “Auch Einer”, has already raged about the fact that one wants to find Goethe's creed in the fact that Faust speaks to Gretchen:

Feeling is everything;
name is sound and smoke,
fogging up heavenly glow.

As true as that was in conversation with Gretchen, it is just as untrue in all other respects, for not everyone who has a sincere aspiration wants a Gretchen wisdom, although in many cases it is only striven for as a Gretchen wisdom. But in Goethe, something quite different had been alive from his youth, from his boyhood on. If we follow him back to his childhood, we do not find any kind of spiritual-scientific knowledge, but we do find the same emotional formation of the soul, the whole attitude of a theosophically thinking person. We see the seven-year-old boy unsatisfied by all kinds of emotional experiences from all the external religious forms that flow to him from his surroundings; but he can vaguely sense and feel a higher spiritual reality. He searches his father's botanical collection for all kinds of plants, selects all kinds of mineral objects and places them on a music stand, which is his altar. And already in his boyhood, in his yearning child's soul, he wants to make a sacrifice to the great God of nature, as he later calls him in clear words, who is conjured up by what happens in the world, he wants to bring him so mysteriously before his soul. He takes a small incense stick, places it on top and, by focusing the first rays of the morning sun, ignites the candle. In this way, he performs his sacrifice with a candle lit by the forces of nature itself. Even as a boy, he thinks of what is hidden and enchanted behind the physiognomy of nature. And that remained in his soul throughout his life. It sounds wonderful to us when we hear his prose hymn, which he speaks to a writer as an expression of what nature means to him, soon after his arrival in Weimar. It is the hymn “Nature”:

Nature! We are surrounded and embraced by it – unable to step out of it, and unable to get deeper into it. Uninvited and unwarned, she takes us into the cycle of her dance and carries on with us until we are tired and fall out of her arms.

Or when we think of the great words: everything is nature. She invented death in order to have much life. And so it goes on. Goethe himself later confessed that the poem was based on the idea that a spirit dwells in all natural processes, just as a spirit also underlies everything that is personal. He seeks the physiognomy of spiritual life; through this we see him driven to observe nature in its interrelationships. We cannot go into detail about him as a naturalist here, but we may point out that he goes beyond what was to become his specialized field of study in every respect. We see in him everywhere the endeavor, which can already be seen during his student years, that the individual natural object should provide him with information about the interrelationships in life. To this end, he later studied in Weimar; he attended Loder's lectures on bone structure, comparative anatomy and so on. He did not want to consider only the fragmented parts of nature; we see from this that on his Italian journey he wrote: “After all that I have seen here of plants and animals, I would like to make a journey to India, not to explore new things, but to look at the old in my own way.” His way of looking at things, however, is to see writing in everything, which mysteriously expresses the spiritual life behind it. That Goethe has this in mind becomes particularly clear to us when we see how he brings all life under one point of view, under one perspective. In Italy, he gains an initial idea of what Greek art can mean to his great mind. Before that, he had discussed many things with Herder. He educated himself through Spinoza's thinking to the idea of a divine-creative essence behind the phenomena; but he was not satisfied with this. He wanted to recognize a divine-spiritual essence in man himself. He writes to his friends from Italy, as he stands before the work of art that has given him the secret of Greek art: There is necessity, there is God. I have the feeling that the Greeks proceeded according to the same laws by which nature works, and I am on their trail.

Thus, art is the continuation of nature's creative process. The artist should immerse himself in the laws of the world and then continue nature's work; what nature allows to pass from the supersensible to the sensual at a lower level, the artist should do at a higher level. In his book on Winckelmann, he says:

When the healthy nature of man works as a whole, when he feels in the world as in a great, beautiful, dignified and valuable whole, when harmonious comfort gives him pure, free delight - then the universe, if it could feel itself, would exult as if it had reached its goal and would admire the summit of its own becoming and being.

Thus, for Goethe, the human spirit is that which already lives in the strict nature, in rocks and plants, what develops there through the animal, becomes conscious for Goethe in the innermost human being, and when man pours his spirit into forms, then he himself creates as higher nature beyond himself. But this was something he was born with, to see the spirit in everything he saw, it was natural for him, so natural that the momentous conversation between Goethe and Schiller after a lecture by Batsch in Jena could take place. Schiller remarked afterwards that there was always something bleak about looking at nature only in detail and never as a whole. Goethe replied that one could also proceed differently, one could also go from the whole to the parts and base one's actual observation on the spiritual. He then drew the symbolic picture of a plant and said of it that it was the original plant and contained all others within itself; with it, one could form and invent new plants in any way, from the lowest to the highest plants. Schiller, who at that time could not rise to such heights, soon worked his way to this view himself. But now he replied to Goethe that what he had sketched was not an experience, but an idea. Goethe did not understand this at all, but rather thought that if it was an idea, then he saw his idea with his eyes. Here two worldviews stand starkly opposed to each other. Schiller believed that he could only grasp the spiritual through abstraction; Goethe through the beholding of the idea with spiritual eyes. Goethe was clear about the fact that the spirit lives in everything, that creative spirits prevail under the sensual, and Goethe not only developed this world view in a theoretical way, but he also embedded this world view in his works, in everything he did in a poetic way. This is particularly evident when we try to grasp the depth of the second part of Faust.

At that time, this world view was by no means limited to Goethe or found only in a few people; rather, it was an intellectual atmosphere in which Germany's best minds lived at the time, and Hegel also grew out of this intellectual philosophy. Of course, for many who have only heard a little about Hegel, he is a dismissed philosopher, one of the great bearers of error of the past. When people approach great minds, they behave very strangely. There is a beautiful writing by a Russian scholar, Chwolson: Hegel, Haeckel and the Twelfth Commandment. In it, a good characterization is given in a certain way. The author is an excellent physicist; he is good at drawing the conclusions that can rightly be drawn from our present-day world view. His twelfth commandment is actually very self-evident; but it is not understood by many. It reads: “You shall never write anything about which you know nothing!” Those who are well-versed in intellectual life know that Chwolson does not understand Hegel; so he is a perfect example of his commandment. It is easy to ridicule when something is taken out of context. One must know the whole context. Hegel is a mind that was ripe, very ripe, but was only coming into its own for the first time with its own ideas. Born in Stuttgart as early as 1770, he published his first work, which for those who are superficial in spiritual matters is perhaps in many ways quite incomprehensible today, only in his old age. But this work should be deeply significant for anyone who wants to scale heights in spiritual life. It is the “Phenomenology of Spirit”. It must appear to us as if it springs from spiritual life through its outward genesis.

He shows that he was able to disregard the things of the external world in the utmost concentration. It took tremendous intensity of spiritual power to write these subtle things; the last pages were written while the cannons thundered in the Battle of Jena. There this work was completed, which was to introduce us to the spiritual world. And he always took his time; almost a decade later his “Logic” was published, and we also have an encyclopedia and a work on jurisprudence by him. The majority of his works emerged from his lectures through his students. It is difficult to give just one picture of the meaning and spirit of Hegel's teaching in a few words, but it is perhaps possible to give a broad outline. There has been much ridicule because Hegel wanted to construct the whole world, all objective being out of the spirit, out of the idea, because he first builds up nothing but concepts, nothing but a world of ideas that can only be followed through the human intellect; therefore, it is said that he did not research experience, but wanted to get everything out of the spirit, which one can only experience in this way by examining nature. This is where the greatest error in judging Hegel lies; it is quite wrong to say that Hegel wanted to spin the whole world a priori out of his head. He was quite clear that reality was spread out in space, but he also knew that behind this objective reality there are spiritual connections that man grasps in the images of ideas. What could he do about seeing the idea in things? He explored the world empirically, but he just saw more than the others. Nature also gave him the ideas beyond the gross material, just as it was with Goethe. Could Goethe and Hegel help it that the others could not find these ideas? Those who can't find them then believe that Hegel spun them out of his head. Lichtenberg, the great German humorist, once spoke of a book and a human being and said: When a book and a human head collide and it sounds hollow, it is not always the fault of the book. And when the human head and nature collide and the head remains empty because it cannot find any ideas, it is truly not nature's fault. Hegel made it his task to erect that which expands in space into the mighty structure of ideas that he calls his logic. That fabric of ideas, of which he figuratively says that it is the god that he was before the creation of nature. That was more than a figure to him. From abstract being to absolute being, one has something before oneself like a creation. He says: The diamond web of concepts and ideas is something in which the things of nature are woven. This web became a mirror image for him, from which nature apparently comes to meet him again. He follows nature through all its stages to show how it is the idea, the creative thought, that lives in everything. He considers the mineral, plant and animal kingdoms, then the human being; he shows how the human spirit gradually becomes more and more perfect until it stands out through understanding and reason to the contemplation of the spirit in the external world. It is a gigantic edifice that rises before us, even if it is flawed in detail. It is a building that anyone can construct, and at the same time it is a good training, since one concept necessarily arises from the other, and every conceptual mass must fit into what is created in ideas. At most, we only find a similar necessity where the human mind delves into the connections provided by mathematics. There will come a time when we will again ascend to this significant schooling of the spirit.

When we try to sense how spirit and nature are combined in Goethe and Hegel, do we not feel the spirit of theosophical perception? Yes, we do feel it. Only one thing will be missing for the spiritual scientist in Hegel, which he finds in Goethe in the words of “Faust”, which Goethe calls “Chorus mysticus”:

All that is transient
Is but a parable;
The inadequate
Here it becomes an event;
The indescribable
Here it is done;
The eternal feminine
Draws us on.

Let us take the first three lines. We see nature as it arises and passes away in its individual parts; everything that has to go through birth and death is a parable for the eternal, the transcendental, for everything that stands behind it. Here, Hegel is a kindred spirit to Goethe; he, the philosopher, expresses the same thing intellectually: “All that is transitory in nature is a parable of the eternal world of ideas.” Then follows something that the poet could aspire to, but that was lost to the philosopher:

The inadequate,
here it becomes an event;
the indescribable,
here it is done.

If we feel these words correctly, we notice here where Hegel's purely logical explanation of the world is lacking. We can also apply the tighter discipline in this ascent to this network of concepts and ideas that lies behind the transitory. But there is something in this web of ideas that is inadequate, but which cannot become an event through intellectual contemplation alone. Hegel means: In this logical structure I have before me the God before He has entered into His appearance. But we must feel: Yes, you have something of the God who could have appeared to you as the great plan of the world, into which everything is fitted. But this web of ideas lacks life, and Hegel felt that.

The philosopher, the mere logician, cannot penetrate to the supersensible life. Here his mind, which was set up mainly for logic, could not penetrate. All idea is inadequate when it comes to letting the content flow out. From the realm of shadows, reality radiates when life comes to the structure of ideas. This life can only be found if man does not just stop at what is presented to his intellect, but must take the path to the stages of higher knowledge. Man must begin to let the spirit live in himself. For this, one needs a kind of knowledge that does not live only in sharply contoured concepts, but in what we have often mentioned here: in the realm of images and imagination, which represent a kind of knowledge that strives beyond all conceptualization. Behind all ideas lies a world of creative principles that is richer than all ideas. This is the inadequacy that can never enter into the idea, that must and can be experienced if one goes beyond the idea to the image that the poet has, or to the supersensible reality, to the spiritual. That is why the poet Goethe was able to approach what was missing for Hegel.

In the second part of Faust, Goethe comes as close as possible to what we today call a theosophical world view. He strives for nothing less than to include in the content of the highest spiritual human culture that which connects human beings to the great spiritual realm, which they sensed as children, sought as adults, and expressed in the fairy tale of the green snake and the beautiful lily. He really wants to place these secrets before his soul, secrets about the spiritual and sensual-physical aspects of the human being. He also seeks to do the same in the second part of Faust, but we must approach it with different eyes than those usually used by scholars. We must take something on board that will strike some of today's interpreters of Faust as something quite crazy; but we will find confirmed what Goethe says to Eckermann: “I have worked in such a way that those who only want something for their own external curiosity will get their money's worth, but for esotericists I have included many a secret.

First, Faust is led through the small world. After he has gone through sensual happiness and sensual misery, we see how he is to be accepted into a circle of ideas where the greatest secrets of the nature of the world are to become clear to him. He is introduced to the great world. Faust wishes to unite with the Greek Helen, who has long since died. She is to unite with Faust as a physical woman. For Faust and Goethe, Helena means something quite different than for most people. For them, she is the representative of the people and creativity that Goethe admired in the Greeks, of whom he said that they had come to the bottom of the secret of all natural creativity and hinted at it in their works of art.

But only if we are well prepared can we experience the mystery that the eternal, the immortal in man can come to us in a new embodiment; nothing less than the riddle of embodiment confronts us here. Faust strives for Helena – he touches her, but at first there is an explosion because he is not yet inwardly purified, and he must first grasp the secrets of the incarnation, which are shown to Faust step by step. For Goethe, the human being also consists of the physical human being, who represents the outer physicality of the human being, that which he has in common with all the surrounding minerals. Then there is also a second link in Goethe's view: the soul, the astral body, the carrier of desires and so on. For Goethe too, the spirit is supreme, for it is the true eternal essence that hurries from embodiment to embodiment, undergoing incarnation after incarnation. And Faust is to experience how spirit, soul and body come together to form this sensual world. He must first recognize where the eternal is when it is not physically embodied on earth. The eternal is in a purely spiritual realm. Therefore Faust must be led down into the spiritual realm, into that kingdom where the “Mothers” are, the primeval mothers of all spiritual beings. Mephistopheles stands by Faust's side with the key to the kingdom of the Mothers, which he hands over to Faust. That is what Mephistopheles can do; he can describe the outer realm, but he cannot enter into it. He is the representative of the purely intellectual human being; he even describes the realm as nothingness. Therefore, he is the representative of realism, of monism. One should reach the threshold of spiritual life; the strictest science has the key, but it only opens the door. Those who have only sensual experience still clearly speak the words of Mephisto that there is nothing in the spiritual realm. But Faust replies what should be replied even today:

In your nothingness I hope to find the All.

And Faust descends into the realm of the mothers and brings up the living eternal spirit of Helen, that which moves from embodiment to embodiment. Whoever follows and understands the description of the “realm of the mothers” will recognize the knower in Goethe in every word.

Sink then! I could also say: Rise!

In this realm, this is the same — our concepts of space are no longer sufficient. The Mothers sit on a glowing tripod. This is the symbolic suggestion for what is actually eternal in man, which is divided into: Manas, Budhi, Atma or spirit self, life spirit and spirit man. This symbol of the tripod, surrounded by the eternally creative mothers, expresses enough in such a meaningful place. The spirit that Faust brings must be enveloped in the astral and physical sheaths, and that is what happens. Goethe presents what stands between the spirit and the physical body in the middle of it, the astral world, in Homunculus. That which has nothing to do with anything in the physical world, which is created separately from the spirit of Helena, but which is later to connect with it, that is the astral in man, that which dwells in the physical body in man. Goethe does everything to point out that in Homunculus we have the astral in man. If the astral could be separated from the physical, then it would have to be clairvoyant – it would have to see clairvoyantly into the astral world. It is no longer clairvoyant in the physical body. And Goethe presents the homunculus as clairvoyant. As soon as he appears, he sees what Faust dreams; he sees the whole world of ideas of Faust. And if we go further – are we not clearly told:

He does not lack spiritual qualities,
but he is all too lacking in the tangible and practical.

– after all, he lacks the physical. Homunculus is a soul that wants to embody itself. In every word that is spoken, one can recognize Goethe's opinion in the indicated direction. But Goethe's words must also be understood in the right sense.

It will! The masses are stirring more clearly
The conviction of the true, the true.

We find this even in commentaries on Faust: in Wagner, the conviction of the true is stirring. But what is meant is that the astral nature begets in a way that is above human procreation. It is a conviction—like Übermensch. It is difficult for people to understand Goethe where he is esoteric. Even during his lifetime, he had to hear people always pointing out what he had poured into it from the abundance of his youthful nature and his poetic feeling, for which one does not need much to understand it. He dealt with such people nicely. A note was found in his estate:

They praise Faust
And what else
In my works
In their favor.
The old Mick and Mack
Is very pleased;
The pack of ragamuffins thinks
It's no longer them!

They also believe the spiritual researcher. Goethe points out in everything that he wants to characterize in Homunculus this second link of the human being, that this soul, before it can take up the spirit, must unite with all that is in the lower kingdoms of nature. We see how the astral passes through all the kingdoms of nature up to the human being. With Faust, Mephisto and Homunculus, he therefore leads us to the classical Walpurgis Night. This is an important chapter that tells us what Homunculus actually wants. There are the creative forces in nature, and Homunculus wants to learn the secret of how to structure the physical shell around himself as an astral being, how to start from the mineral kingdom in the lowest realm and put shell after shell around himself — up to the human realm you have time. In the transition from the mineral to the vegetable, Goethe finds the beautiful expression: “It grunelt so” (it grunts). It is then shown how he progresses further up to where he is ready to create a physical shell from the elements. That is when Eros appears, love. When a person wants to step out of the spiritual into the sensual, then, according to the great secrets, spirit, soul and body must combine. When the three unite, then the human being can appear before us in a sensual and spiritual way. Helena is docile, the eternal spirit has come up from the realm of the mothers. Homunculus has surrounded himself with sensual matter, united with the spirit, and Helena stands before us. The poet could not have portrayed the embodiment any differently. In the third act, the secret of becoming is presented.

The inadequate, here it becomes an event,

he says in summary, what he wants to express after this examination. There, where we ascend the higher path of knowledge to higher forms, there the spirit shows itself as creating, alive, there it is placed before our soul in a living form. And we see what the spirit must also have if it is not to be a mere specter of eternal ideas – it must have will. He suggests that it must not only have thoughts and concepts. The indescribable, that must be done, that is the will. He confronts us as a capacity for knowledge, where we feel the innermost source of the highest knowledge flowing in us. When we turn away from all sensual and physical things. Man can reach this level, and Faust has reached it. Goethe shows us this symbolically by making Faust go blind at the highest level, so that he cannot see the physical.

But within, a bright light shines.

We find ourselves in the deeds of the spiritual world:

The indescribable, here it is done,

that which cannot be described with words from the world of the senses. We see how the living, logical, willing spirit can flow into us. And this fertilizes what is considered feminine in the highest sense, the soul. Thus we understand what Goethe means by the last words of “Faust” when we know that the soul is always represented as something feminine that needs to be fertilized and that draws us towards everything that becomes action. This is what Goethe wants to show us.

I have only been able to give a few rough strokes. What has been said about Hegel will show you that Hegel was on the path of theosophy. He went as far as he could. With tremendous energy, he researched nature, sought and found the connections. Goethe, the poet, went even further. In his poetic images, he sought to expand the rigid contours of conceptual images, that which is to become wisdom and science in life, by capturing the living spirit. Thus, through his Faust, Goethe truly affirmed that it was a deep truth to him, which he emphasized at the starting point of his scientific writings, that we see the external things of the physical world because our senses are created for external sensual things. The external image presents itself as our eyes are:

If the eye were not solar,
It could never behold the sun;
If not in us the God-own power,
How could we divine delight!

Just as the physical sun is seen through the physical eye, so is the spirit the creator of the spiritual eye in man, and is seen through the spiritual eye in its effectiveness. These words are the result of his world view. This is how he understands the spirit that permeates the world, and this is how he has struggled in his strength to a realization that only a few find. He says to one of his friends at the very end of his life: “The most important thing I have written is not for the great world, but for a few who can seek the same on spiritual paths.

What he has achieved for a few must become common property for many. It must not remain a theoretical world-view but must take hold of mind and will. And so, precisely those who approach Goethe's and Hegel's world-views from a spiritual-scientific point of view must come to the conviction of how much Theosophy can be found in both of them. This conviction is summarized in the words of the wise man:

The spiritual world is not closed,
Your mind is closed, your heart is dead!
Rise up, bathe, disciple, undaunted
The earthly breast at dawn!

Dear attendees!

If today we are to speak about the value and significance of truth for the development of the human soul, then the old question may well arise for some: What is truth anyway? Can one speak in any way in general about what truth actually is? And if one cannot answer this question, how can one then possibly determine anything about the value and significance of truth for the human soul? Nevertheless, it is by no means the case that one cannot distinguish between approaching the truth and moving away from the truth. What Lessing really meant to express in his famous saying about truth is truly valid: If God were to extend to me his right and his left hand and in his right hand held the pure, full truth; but in his left hand held the eternal striving for truth, then I would say: Father, give me what you have in your left hand, the eternal striving for truth; for the pure, full truth is, after all, only for you.

It is true that man can only have an eternal striving for the pure, full truth; but it would be a mistake if, because of this, one were to fall back into the misunderstanding that one cannot distinguish between that which corresponds more and that which corresponds less to the ideal of truth.

Let us visualize, not so much through theoretical discussion as through an example, how there is indeed a tangible difference, so to speak, between what can be called truth and what can be said to have removed man from the truth. It is not at all true in general that everyone can have their own point of view regarding the truth, that one cannot distinguish whether what someone claims from their point of view comes closer to the truth or moves further away from it. In this context, we may recall the saying of a recently deceased American multi-millionaire, who, among other things, in addition to his occupation, which was certainly more lucrative in terms of his millions, was concerned with arriving at the truth about certain things through thought. In his aphorisms, he made a remarkable statement about the value of human beings: no person in the world is irreplaceable; indeed, one cannot even speak of a special value of the individual. If I – so he said – now lay down my work, numerous others will be found to take it up where I left it. If I withdraw from what I have been doing, I will easily be replaced, and when I die – so roughly he said – the railways will run just as before, the dividends will be earned just as before. In short, nothing special in the world will have changed with the departure of a person. And then he adds – and this is important –: It is the same with every human being.

Let us compare this so-called truth, which the multi-millionaire has expressed from his point of view, about the value and significance of man in the world, with a similar saying by the witty German art historian Herman Grimm, who said this at the time. When Treitschke died, Grimm said about his work and significance: When a man like Treitschke has passed away, only then do we realize what he actually meant to all those who had contact with him. Treitschke was one of those people – as Grimm says – who, when they stop working, cannot find a successor for their work. He makes one realize that individuals are irreplaceable in their value and significance.

They are different, these two statements about the value and significance of a person: one from the American millionaire, the other from the spirited German art historian Herman Grimm. I would like to add: Grimm did not add what the American millionaire added: That is how it is with every human being! Two points of view, one could say, if one wanted to judge lightly, to the effect that the truth can take on a special form for each person. Two points of view, one could say, about the value and significance of the human being.

Now, which is the truer? If you examine the two statements a little, you will notice a huge difference between the two. You just have to examine them according to certain characteristics that are not usually examined today. How does the millionaire take his point of view? Merely in terms of his own personality. He considers what would become of the work he has done up to a certain point in time; he judges entirely from himself and comes to the conclusion that the work he is giving up could be taken up by someone else at any moment, and therefore it must be the same for everyone. A very personal point of view confronts us here, which looks only at itself in order to arrive at the truth about the value and significance of the human being. And Herman Grimm, he does not judge anything about himself in this case, but about another personality. He judges in such a way that he completely disregards himself and is, so to speak, overwhelmed by something that is outside of him as a being. And that is precisely how he comes to judge the case, not making a general judgment from this individual case, but simply accepting the case as it is. We need only consider the difference in the two points of view to see what is characteristic in each case. In the one case, the value and significance of the human being is judged quite subjectively, quite personally, quite from one's own ego; in the other case, the ego is not involved at all. And if we really consider both statements, who could fail to feel that the one who judges impersonally, who disregards himself, allows himself to be overwhelmed, as it were, by the objective, has more to say about the value and significance of a human being than the one who judges quite subjectively, quite personally! This must be the natural feeling of everyone. Such a comparison shows that we must never say: point of view is just a point of view; but that there is a way of approaching the truth, of actually arriving at it in certain respects, if we try to fathom the truth by taking an impersonal approach. Or do we not feel that in certain respects, as Herman Grimm says, each person is irreplaceable? Not only great people are irreplaceable. Can the point of view of the American millionaire apply when one considers how irreplaceable a mother is for many a child, for example? Can one say that something can step into this gap to replace her? Oh, one will feel it as soon as one takes the point of view that there is a coming closer to the truth, even if there can only be an eternal striving for the pure, full truth.

So it is precisely with those things that have such value for the human soul that it is important to examine them sometimes in a very intimate and profound way. And with what we have gained from the simple example of personal and impersonal judgment, we have already gained a great deal precisely for the characterization of truth.

In the lecture on the mission of anger, we started from the assumption that what is actually the nature of the human soul, what we can call its soul nature in contrast to the human body, consists of three parts: the sentient soul, which is, so to speak, the lowest of the human soul members, the mind or emotional soul, which forms the second link of the human being within, and the consciousness soul, which is the third link. And we have already characterized that this sentient soul is the link in the human being within which we find desire, instincts, passions and so on. We have, after all, examined a part of this sentient soul ourselves by pointing to the element of anger and its effect on the sentient soul, and we have seen how the I is present in this sentient soul in a dull way, as it is still overwhelmed by the passions, drives, instincts, and so on.

If we ascend to the next higher level of the human soul, to the soul of mind or feeling, then the I becomes clearer and more luminous, and the I becomes a power in the human being that can perceive and understand itself. How does the soul of mind or feeling actually free itself from the sentient soul? The human being stands in relation to the external world. This external world makes its impressions on the human being; it gives him the rich world of color and light, of sounds, of warmth and cold, in short, everything we perceive through our senses. When we bring our soul into relationship with the outer world through its organs, then, in our sentient soul, joy and delight, suffering and pain, and so on, arise in relation to what we perceive outside in the world of color, in the world permeated by sound, in the world of taste and smell, and so on, through our perceptions. Everything that is connected to our perceptions in our sentient soul, our desires and instincts, makes up the lowest of the soul's members, so to speak, and in this lives, still unaware of itself, the human I, this center of the human being. But in this lowest limb of the soul also live the affects, the passions, the drives and desires. Man lets himself be easily carried away by them; his ego is not yet master over anger, annoyance, vexation; it lets itself be carried away by lust and suffering, by drives and desires, is submerged in them, is not the conductor, the actor in relation to these drives and desires. We can say that the I lives down there, brooding in the surging sea of the sentient soul; but what we call the mind or feeling soul cannot be distinguished from this surging sea of the sentient soul, that which we call the mind or feeling soul, unless the human being delves so deeply into himself that he connects in his inner life with what he has experienced in the outer world. We receive direct impressions from this outer world. We carry these away from our interaction with the outer world. Then we are alone with ourselves. There we weigh one joy against another, there we brood over our pain, we try to get over it or to delve even deeper into it. There we expand within ourselves what we have received from outside impressions. What the soul builds up within itself could not be worked through by it if the I did not do something with what has been received, if the I did not work in this soul. Stimuli from outside can come without the ego; man only has to face the outside world, the world has an effect on him. Like in a mirror, the outer world gives rise to pleasure and suffering, desires and instincts and so on in the sentient soul; but it is only when we turn away from this outer world and collect ourselves, when we process our instincts and desires, when we form a whole in our imaginations, that we say: We work our way through the ego from the sentient soul to the mind soul, then we internalize ourselves within our self, then we process what we have received from the outside. And this inner work is the content of the mind or emotional soul. And only then, when we are able to relate what we have built up to the outside world, when we have formed a realm of inner experiences through our inner life, when we have developed a sum of pleasure and joy in our soul that we call ' beautiful', for example, and then apply all this to the outer world; when we come to recognize something in the outer world as good, beautiful, true through the concepts we have formed, then we say we attain knowledge of the outer world. There we work our way up to grasping the outer world, up to the knowing, cognizing human being: there we develop the consciousness soul. This is initially the highest level of the human soul. Thus the sentient soul leads us from the outside in, we live in ourselves through the mind or emotional soul, and we find the way again to grasp the world through knowledge and understanding through our consciousness soul.

Within the sentient soul, we have encountered the element of anger, and in that anger we have found one of the preparers for the development of the I and the soul. A person who is not yet mature enough to form an opinion about what is true, just, and good will, by falling into righteous anger at the sight of some lie, some injustice, some evil, take a stand on this external world. Anger will, so to speak, indicate to him: This is not in accordance with you, [this is a discordance, an obstacle] and in his inner being awakens that which is called the ego, which opposes the outside world. Where we are inflamed with anger at something we cannot admit, there is the awakening of the ego. [And [the anger] develops this in the transition and ascent into the intellectual and emotional soul through constant internalization out of the developmental soul.] So if anger is something that a person must overcome in order to develop, we can almost say of anger: It has its value in that it can be overcome; if anger has only attained its full significance for a person when the has been transformed into love and gentleness, we can say that the most important thing for the mind or soul is that it presents itself to us as the element that, in the best sense, brings the two sides of the ego mentioned yesterday to development. If the human ego is to develop in an appropriate way, it must happen in such a way that, on the one hand, it becomes fuller and fuller. Only by developing a rich life of ideas and thoughts, a rich life of feelings, emotions and will within himself [and thereby strengthening his ego forces within himself], only in this way will he be able to embrace much of the world on the one hand – and on the other hand, the ego will be able to become a strong starting point for working outwards. The more his individuality develops, the more — we may say — a person is worth in the world as a human being. But we have already pointed out that this I is a two-edged sword, that on the other hand this I, by only aspiring to become richer and fuller in itself, can close itself within itself; that precisely by wanting to live only in itself, it closes the door to the outside world and thereby becomes impoverished. If, on the one hand, a person is to become as independent and strong as possible, then he must avoid impoverishing himself by closing himself off from the outside world by also cultivating the second aspect of the self, selflessness, the merging with the outside world.

Where is the element in human development that, by its very nature, does justice to these two sides of the I? There is nothing else that does justice to both sides of the I as much as truth does. Truth is something that, if it is to appear to us in its highest form, we can only find in the innermost part of our I. Only that which we have recognized as such through our I itself can be considered truth for us. Thus, the truth for the ego must be found in the innermost part of the human ego. We can say: Through the self, the truth for the human being is found. When the human being understands this character of truth, then he will say: It is precisely through the work for the truth that the ego becomes stronger in its selfhood in its inner strength; for truth is only achieved when the ego has to make an effort, because truth can only be found in the depths of the ego.

Hence the peculiarity of truth: we need nothing more than the work of our own ego if the truth is to have any value for us. Admittedly, in the case of present-day man, there are hardly any truths other than the simplest ones that take on such a form for him that the ego can really decide through itself. These are the simplest arithmetical truths. Once we have decided for ourselves that three times three is nine and not ten, then this decision, made in the innermost sanctuary of our ego, is enough to know that this is true. And even if millions of people were to say that three times three is ten, we would still decide for three times three is nine. This is valid for mathematical truths because they are clear and, so to speak, present themselves to us directly in their simplicity. Therefore, when we overcome this simplicity through the passions that assert themselves in the sentient soul, by the I working its way up into the rational soul, it must overcome the other affects in the same way as it overcomes anger. For only by casting out the instincts, desires, drives and passions that are in the soul can what a person experiences in the soul become truth. Where people disagree about the truth, where not everyone finds the same truths in their soul, it is precisely the urges, the desires, the passions that prevent them, so to speak, from truly seeing the circumstances of the truth transparently and brightly and clearly. The passions cannot have a say in simple mathematical truths. If, for example, passions were to arise regarding the transparency of mathematical truths, then many a housewife would certainly desire that if she takes three times three marks to market, it would make ten marks; for the passions speak in favor of this, but the simplicity and transparency of the mathematical truths do not allow the passions and desires to arise. In this case – in any matter at all, where we have managed to silence the passions and desires, we also clearly see the circumstances of the truth. In all the things in which we have not yet succeeded in silencing the passions and desires, we are not yet capable of deciding on the truth in earnest. But when we have succeeded in deciding on a truth, then the ego is in its inmost being the judge of the truth. Thus, the ego must feel itself in its power when it decides on the truth, when it acquires truth.

And again: once we have acquired the truth about something, we may say: this truth, although acquired in the most personal way, is the most impersonal of all; for we can find the same truth in all souls. When we have found a truth, it will take on the same form in millions of people who have also found it. Thus we will be able to communicate with the whole world about the truth. Thus truth is the most personal and thus it is the most impersonal. It leads most deeply into us, because there it must be decided, and it leads out again, because it applies independently of our arbitrariness. Truth is therefore the element in the life of the soul that has the most important mission in relation to this life of the soul. On the one hand, it educates the self to independence – for the self is the judge of truth – and on the other hand, it educates the self to selflessness, in that truth brings together this self with everything in our environment where truth is to be spoken at all. The two sides of the double-edged sword are best educated by the truth, and so the ego becomes strong to be led up from the surging activity of the sentient soul, where it still broods dull; so it becomes strong enough to be led up into the soul of mind or emotion, and at the same time it is prepared to be led up into the consciousness soul, where it comes out again to grasp the environment, to grasp the world selflessly. Thus we have characterized truth as the most important and essential element in the development of the I, in the work of the I on the three soul-members, the sentient soul, the mind or emotional soul, and the consciousness soul. This is why truth is such a powerful educator of the ego, because it works on both sides. We just have to take it seriously. Only those who truly strive for the truth in their own selves, and only strive for the truth, who allow only the truth to determine their inner world of ideas, may hope that this truth will fulfill this implied mission for them. A great English poet rightly says of truth, hinting at its brittleness, hinting at the high demands it makes of us: “To him who prefers anything to truth, this goddess does not surrender.” Those who place their Christianity above truth will soon realize that they are placing their particular denomination above Christianity. But those who place their particular denomination above Christianity will soon realize that they are placing their sect above their denomination. And those who place their sect above their denomination will soon realize that they are placing their personal whims above even the teachings of their sect. So says the poet Coleridge. Truth reveals itself only to him who is in turn ready to surrender himself entirely to it. But now we meet this truth within ourselves in a twofold form. The I asserts its two sides, which we have characterized, quite well in relation to this truth. If we want to characterize these two sides of the I, then we must present to our soul the way in which truth presents itself to the I from the world.

We look into the world. World phenomena present themselves to our senses, that is, to our sentient soul. Those who want to form concepts, ideas, and images about the world but do not want to believe that this world is built from concepts, ideas, and images may as well admit that it is possible to scoop water out of a glass that contains no water. However nonsensical it would be to claim this, it is nevertheless true that we can draw from a world in which there are no ideas or concepts and create in our minds what we then have in our souls: ideas and concepts of the world. A world that was not built according to ideas, that was not steeped in wisdom, could never evoke a reflection in the human soul that represents concepts and ideas of this world as an inner experience. For what would our concepts and ideas be, through which the laws of the world are to be experienced in us, what would all science be, if the world were not built according to ideas? All science would be fantasy, reverie; for science is a sum of ideas and concepts. If there were no ideas and concepts, in other words, if there were no wisdom in the world, if the world were not interwoven and permeated by wisdom, then our wisdom would be folly; for it would be pure fantasy, pure error. We would imagine something in our soul as a picture of the world that is constructed quite arbitrarily. It only makes sense to create an image of the world with the help of concepts and ideas if one assumes that these concepts and ideas are present in the world and that the things themselves that present themselves to our senses arise and grow out of the wisdom of the world, out of the wisdom that flows and streams through the world. So we say to ourselves: Behind this world, which we perceive through our senses, which we feel and desire through our sentient soul, behind this world is wisdom. And we seek to approach this wisdom by working our way up in our soul to that which our mind-soul inwardly reveals as truth. Wisdom is there in the world; wisdom works its way out in our own soul as we ascend to the mind and consciousness soul. But when we relate to this wisdom in the world, we have to say: Oh, this wisdom is built into the world, incorporated into it. We human beings stand, so to speak, as belated observers in relation to this world and explore the wisdom that is implanted in it. [A large part of our striving in the acquisition of knowledge consists of appropriating what pulses and lives through the world as wisdom.] If we allow the wisdom that flows through the world to shine in us as truth, then we are truly the ones who come afterwards. And if we look at the development of humanity, [it shows us how, with all his doings and inventions, man falls short of the wisdom already achieved by the environment with its wisdom]. So we can say: A closer look at human development soon shows us how man, so to speak, stands behind the wisdom of the world with his truth. One can see this by taking a look at the historical development of humanity. In the school books, one can read how people gradually came to produce what we call paper from certain substances. Through human wisdom, people have learned to produce paper. Just as man makes paper out of certain substances, so the paper of the wasp's nest is made – for the wasp's nest consists of paper. The wasp's nest shows the art of making paper, which has been present in nature as wisdom for countless centuries and which man, in his historical development, has found afterwards. In this way, man is truly a thinker of what has been thought outside. A large part of our striving in the acquisition of knowledge consists in reflecting on the wisdom of the world, in appropriating within ourselves what pulses and lives through the world as wisdom. By relating to the world in such a way that we allow its wisdom to shine in us, we feel, precisely in the innermost essence of our I, that we are strengthening ourselves, that we are relating to the world with the substance that is outside as spiritual substance. We grow stronger as the wisdom of the world shines in our I as truth. This truth, which reflects the wisdom of the world, corresponds perfectly to one side of our ego, namely the side that we can call the selfless side. After all, everything we think about the world is there without our ego, it has been there long before we could think it. In grasping the wisdom of the world, we experience something that is outside of our ego. We pour our I out into the world, so to speak: we are completely world, we are completely given to the world, completely selfless, by reviving the wisdom of the world in ourselves. In this way we make ourselves selfless by completely giving ourselves, objectively giving ourselves, to the wisdom of the world, which, as the light of truth, is to shine in ourselves. That is one side of the truth.

The other side of the truth comes to us when we consider human labor. When we consider all the human ideas that we realize in the smallest and largest of things, whether it is an everyday idea or the idea of an inventor who invents a machine, for example, we have the resounding, productive, creative work of man in mind. First we have the idea, then we have what is the external expression of this idea or the consequence of the idea. We see what arises in us, what has not yet been thought in the world, springing from our I. We see our innermost being emerge in our everyday activities, in the activities that we can describe as the realization of the great ideas of the inventors. First there is the thought, we do not reflect on the thought, the sensory phenomenon is not there first, the thought is there first, in which the sensory phenomenon comes to us through our own action, we are the forethinkers and we are the ones who, after our forethought, enter the world creatively ; there we feel our I growing stronger on the other side; there we feel how the essence of our I has flowed out, feel that which we can call our selfhood; through which we become capable of seeing realized that which the I first experiences outside in the surrounding of our existence. There we feel that side of the I where we do not merge into something that exists without the I, but on the contrary, there we feel our inner activity, our selfhood. [Our I is in our deeds, our works, just as it has also worked first in our thoughts.] As a forward thinker, the I is truly cultivating its selfhood; as a backward thinker, the I is truly cultivating its selflessness. And in these two components of the entire inner life, the truth within our work and striving in the world confronts us as reflected truth and as thought-out truth.

Now we ask ourselves: Is there a mediation between these two sides? Just as life approaches the human being, so do the two sides of his ego approach each other, but still keeping the components of truth apart. Truth is indeed the great educator of both sides, but the way the ego appropriates this truth introduces a division. Is there anything where the two sides of truth confront us in the world? [But if there are such truths that existed before, before the ego, and the ego grasps them independently of the external world, then realizes them in the world, that is a truth that we can recognize as one of selfhood and at the same time of selflessness.] If there are such truths that, on the one hand, can be conceived before all sensual reality and yet are realized, not in machines and daily activities; but if we enact the truth independently of the external world and then see it realized in this external world; if the truth that presents itself to us as pre-thought can at the same time show itself to be formed entirely according to the pattern of the postulated truth: Such a truth would be one that particularly cultivates both sides of the self. Do such truths exist? It is precisely such truths that Theosophy or spiritual science seeks to provide for modern humanity.

Let us try to make this clear with an example. It has already been stated that it is the task of Theosophy to present the proposition: that which is soul-spiritual arises only out of that which is soul-spiritual, just as Redi, in another field, first presented the proposition: that which is alive arises only out of that which is alive. We have seen that this proposition follows from what we call the realization of the repeated lives of man on earth. The way in which spiritual research reveals that the innermost core of man's being re-embodies itself is not brought about by logical conclusions, but is an immediate realization of the clairvoyant consciousness. Just as a person with physical eyes sees color and light, so a person who has developed the inner, hidden powers of the human soul perceives the essence of the human being, which we can call the immortal, that lives in the human being and presents itself to the clairvoyant consciousness, that comes from previous embodiments and that goes to future embodiments. So, through supersensible knowledge, we have the concept of the re-embodiment of the human essence. So the spiritual researcher comes and says: Through my research I have established that the human being undergoes re-embodiments; he describes the re-embodiment, he conceptualizes it in the same way that modern natural science conceptualizes the sensory perception and intellectual acquisitions. With these concepts he presents himself to people. Such knowledge cannot be found through outer perception; it must be found through supersensible vision, through the development of those organs that we call the spiritual eyes and ears. But when it is found, it can be conceptualized, thought of, and given forms that we call the forms of truth. So, we have a truth before us that expresses itself in a way that is not possible through outer perception. We have a preconceived idea in contrast to external perception. Just as the thought, as the idea of the machine lives in the mind of the inventor, without him seeing it externally, so the thought of re-embodiment lives as a result of research in the spiritual world, it lives in the mind of the spiritual researcher, but then the message goes out into the world, then we can we can look at the outside world and say: We see how [for example, a child] from the first day of a human being [gradually] develops from the vague, blurred facial features into distinct forms, [into a fixed physiognomy], which slumbers in a dark background of existence. There we see the definite forms developing. And we say to ourselves: According to what the spiritual researcher tells us, we can easily understand this. What has been brought over from previous embodiments is the core of the human being, [who lives anew in the child and comes from a previous life], who works out what was indeterminate into definite forms. We look at the whole development and say: When we look at life and test life, then this life itself in its appearances shows us the truth of what the spiritual researcher says; and only bias can cloud a person's view to such an extent that he would not find the truth in the external sensory appearance of what the spiritual researcher brings down as a preconceived idea from the higher worlds. Thus the spiritual researcher brings his truths down from the higher worlds, and holds them up to external perception. What confronts us in the external world offers us the evidence for the truths from the higher worlds, in that we then understand the external world. We penetrate beneath things with what we bring to them as truths. Thus what has been thought out agrees with the outer world, as the inventor's idea agrees with the finished machine. Thus what is otherwise separate is united in the truths that Theosophy presents. There we have, as it were, nothing behind us. The theosophical truth is not found like the idea of an inventor — created out of nothing in a certain sense —, it is found through observation in the spiritual world. But it can be applied to the external sensual world. This theosophical truth is both a pre-thought and a post-thought. Therefore, it affects the human soul in a completely different way than all the other truths that we encounter. (By absorbing this truth, man unleashes his ego.

By immersing himself in the wisdom of the world, man loses his self, and his I becomes one that, so to speak, flows out more and more; it becomes impoverished of inner strength. By thinking ahead in his daily activities, by demanding that what has been thought ahead be translated into external reality, he wants to imprint his ego on the external world, he wants to see more and more in his surroundings what his self wills; he wants to imprint his self on his surroundings. In this way, he is completely absorbed in his selfhood, and has created an interest in making this I, quite apart from the environment, as strong as possible. We can see two possibilities for the education of the I. One is that the I becomes a completely reflective one, where it is completely devoted to the outer world, where it is more and more devoted to the outer world, where it does not grow stronger in its power. The other is where the self is not merely filled with ideas from the outside world, but should be filled by the will. In the first case, the self can become desolate in the will. We can experience that such people, who absorb objective truth in the most conscientious way, are weak in will. On the other hand, we can observe that those people who only want to impress their will on their environment become closed off from what is going on in the outside world, from what should awaken their interest in the wisdom-filled content of the world. Thus we see, so to speak, the thinking I developed in those people who develop in the first way, and the willing I in those who develop in the second way. But we can achieve harmonious interaction between the thinking I and the willing I by allowing spiritual-scientific truths to take effect in us. Then the two beneficent powers in the I will awaken. On the one hand, the I will let all the content of the world into itself, out of which it is born, and will enrich itself inwardly through what is poured out into the whole world as its spiritual content. On the other hand, it will gather itself together within itself in order to become strong within itself. Thus the ego will not be impoverished in either direction, but will become strong and healthy in both. And this is the health-giving quality of theosophical truth: on the one hand, it is as fully realized as the reflective truth, and on the other hand, it has the same effect as the reflective truth. Therefore, it is healing because on the one hand it pours into us all the beauty of the world and on the other hand makes our ego so flourishing and fruitful because it enables what grows in the ego to find its reflection in the outer phenomena. Through the theosophical truth, we develop our ego so much because it is the truth that is both premeditated and reflected. That is the healthy aspect of the theosophical truth. While we would see in a person who is only a reflective person, who only wants to comprehend the wisdom of the world, that he can, under certain circumstances, paralyze himself more and more in terms of willpower and that his inner weakness , that he becomes inwardly ill from lack of such power, we would see on the other hand that he who only wants to realize his will becomes inwardly impoverished because he has no connection with the world. On the other hand, we see harmony prevailing in all respects in the theosophist. The thought becomes more concentrated as it is seized by the confidence of realization. In short, by permeating itself with the theosophical truth, the ego becomes a point of passage for wisdom. There the will is enlightened and on the other side becomes the true center by having the premeditated truth with the postmeditated truth in relation to the world. Humanity will gradually recognize that the will, which can appear so dry and so sober to the one who merely wants it implemented in external reality, warms up to living feelings because it meets with the wisdom of the world; and again, that this wisdom, which can seem so dry to us when we merely reflect on the world, can seem individual to us when it meets with the living will in the ego. Wisdom and will must meet in the ego. This is the healthy, life-affirming truth that we not only produce mind-soul - or emotional soul - but mind-permeated mind-soul and mind-permeated emotional soul in the higher soul members, in the mind-soul, through the nature of the I, these two sides of approaching the truth.

Above all, in more recent times, no one has felt this so deeply as the person we have spoken about here many times before, who was as close to spiritual science as possible, who created the greatest poetic works, as Goethe. And a work by the later, older Goethe should serve as an illustration to what has been said today. Oh, Goethe knew clearly and distinctly that the way in which man confronts the truth depends on how he has developed in his own self. That truth is merely something objectively compelling was never Goethe's thought. That truth enlightens man all the more the more receptive he is, that was his fundamental conviction, which is little understood today. People come and say: Oh, we have long since gone beyond a certain way of grasping the truth. Science has led us to the point where we cannot help doubting that there is something spiritual in a living being. [Science has thoroughly driven out of us the belief that something spiritual is to be sought behind every material thing. It has driven out our belief in something like an etheric body or a life force, because science is close to showing how living substance can be composed of external chemical components. Don't you hear everywhere that we are told: We cannot recognize such fantasies as those presented by Theosophy, because our ideal is to produce protein, that is, something living, from dead matter in the laboratory. May a counter-question be asked here? After all the development of man, can what he expects about the composition of a living being decide anything? Can that decide anything for his beliefs about the spirit of the world? If you want to think about it, you can find external proof that nothing is decided about the belief in the spirit through something like the expectation that protein could one day be produced chemically in a laboratory. The one does not force the other at all, this can be proved historically. Ask what else people have believed in the past, for example, in earlier centuries, in the Middle Ages, they not only believed that they would succeed in synthesizing protein from carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen and so on, they believed something quite different. Imagine the sentences in Goethe's Faust, where Wagner stands before the preparation of the homunculus; the ability to do this was a belief that existed in the Middle Ages. People believed that they could create something that was a small human being from external substances through the various processes they performed in the laboratory. However, this belief that they could create a human being from external substances did not cause these people to deny the spirit. Therefore, the denial of the spirit today does not arise from the compulsion of objective facts, but from the inability [to grasp the spirit] to rise within one's own soul to the kind of thinking that sees the conditions for professing the spirit. One must also consider such things, then one will understand what it meant that only the one who can work in the substance of the soul as the external naturalist works in the external substance can grasp the life of the soul.

And Goethe was one who could see deeply into the ideas we have presented today. Above all, he was aware of the contrast between reflective and pre-reflective truth. And he beautifully expressed this contrast in a wonderful little poem, his “Pandora”.

This “Pandora” was written in 1807; a lot of nonsense has been written about it. People said: This is a Goethean late work, in which Goethe presents all kinds of concepts in symbols. In a Goethe edition, by a much-praised German scholar, you can read the words: Well, what does that tell us, other than that we can form a concept of ourselves, that man represents what he thinks of himself? Goethe would have thanked himself for presenting to the world what he had “formed of himself.” Goethe himself may have once expressed himself in a manner that was not polite but clear about people's judgment of his late works.

Anyone who takes [Pandora] in hand [and lets it sink in], attentively and without prejudice, will recognize one of them. Oh, there are not many works in which the content is evaluated in such a wonderful way, in keeping with the style. It is the one in this work that can be called the light artistic hand. Read “Pandora” and, if you imbue it with your sense of style, you will admire the ease with which everything is shaped to suit the person and situation in question, whether in the verse structure or in the diction. One person speaks in this verse form, the other in a different, more lightly flowing style. Everything is easy in this “Pandora”. It is precisely in this that the greatness of Goethe having to leave this work a fragment is revealed. Even with a Goethe, such a powerful artistic accomplishment as that evident in “Pandora” is only possible for moments. Even for Goethe it was only sufficient for the beginning of Pandora; but then he lost his way, for he was too small to continue the work in the greatness that inspired him as an artist when he created the beginning. But that should not deter us from recognizing the greatness that is present in Pandora.

Goethe was very clear about people who say: Yes, what Goethe wrote in his youth, one can go along with, it is all full of poetic originality; but what Goethe allegorized in his old age, no reasonable person can understand. This was already the case during Goethe's lifetime – not with regard to Faust, but to his other works of later years – Goethe himself by no means held the first part of “Faust”, which is so admired, in the highest esteem. He knew what he had put into it in order to develop ever higher and higher; he knew within himself how much his later works stood above his earlier ones. And so he says something impolite, but clearly:

They praise Faust
And what else
In my works roars
In their favor.
The old Mick and Mack
Is very pleased;
The pack of rags and bones thinks
It would no longer be!

This judgment is justified in the face of the philistine critics of Goethe, who make Goethe into what they themselves are – at least something good comes of it! In recent times, our audience has been inundated with such interpreters of Goethe. [Let us take a closer look at the work in terms of our topic today:] “Pandora” contains on a large scale the problem of the reflective and the forward-thinking human being – [Epimetheus belongs to the former, Prometheus to the latter]. Zeus wanted to take away the existence of evolving humanity. Under Zeus's rule, humanity would have been doomed. Prometheus confronts Zeus. According to the legend, he brings man fire, language and writing. He is thus the one who gives people the opportunity to emerge from the state in which they used to be, where the ego brooded dull down in the sentient soul. Man was to develop his I more and more. It is a correct observation that everything to do with fire, for example, is somehow connected with human forethought. Travelers described how, in areas where they had made a fire, the monkeys, for example, came and warmed themselves, but it never occurred to the monkeys to stoke the fire themselves; that is, these animals of the highest species are not able to envision the future. These higher animals, which are closest to humans, certainly felt the pleasant warmth of the fire; they may also have felt some kind of thought in a dull form, but they still did not think the thought through to the point of maintaining the fire by adding wood, much less to think of further practical applications. It is precisely because man has mastered the element of fire that he has been enabled to make his ego the starting point of thinking ahead, [and thereby gradually to lead his ego to a higher level in ever-increasing measure].

Thus, in his “Pandora”, Goethe presents us with the two brothers, Epimetheus and Prometheus. There stands the one brother: Epimetheus. His name already indicates that he is the contemplative; he is devoted to that which is imprinted on the world as wisdom, those thoughts that can shine as truth in the human soul. He is not prepared to think ahead; in his soul he dreams the truth dream of the world, which is an afterthought conceived behind the wisdom of the world as truth. Such is Epimetheus. Prometheus, on the other hand, is devoted to the other one-sidedness; he wants nothing to do with the reflection of wisdom. He only wants to know about that which arises in the soul of man himself, in order to realize it.

The true celebration of the real man is the deed

— that is Prometheus' saying. [He is a man of action, and this is how he appears before us as a forward thinker.] Thus we see the two opposites: Epimetheus, the thinker, and Prometheus, the forward thinker. Goethe expresses this in his “Pandora” already in the scenery. On the one side, we have Prometheus' dwelling. We see that everything that has been built there has been created by human labor. Although it is rough, we see that it does not bear the character of nature anywhere, does not depict anything outside in nature; we do not see a copy of a natural beauty, it is rough and crude, but as a human work it stands before us. In contrast, what is on the side of Epimetheus as his residence, comes to us as a scene that is composed of the beautiful creations of nature, of parts of nature, and continues into a wonderful landscape. We see in it the reflection on nature and the act of settling in such a way that one lives according to what is exemplified outside. Epimetheus and Prometheus appear to us as complete opposites in their striving for truth.

In the Greek saga, we are told that Zeus wanted to take revenge for the act of Prometheus. [Through Hephaistos, Zeus had an image of a woman made in an artful, artistically beautiful way] – Pandora – [which he brought to life]. She was to bring people gifts from the world of Zeus. [After her descent to earth, Prometheus rejects the divine being, but Epimetheus takes her in and makes the beautiful goddess his wife.] The saga tells how Pandora, the woman created by the gods, opens the box [that Zeus gave her] and how the goods that actually make people miserable fly out. Only one good remains in it: hope. Thus we see that in the saga, Pandora also has something to do with that which belongs to the human race of the past. From the future, thinking humanity has only hope from Pandora. What else it has, what people can use to get by, has been handed down from the past.

This Pandora also appears in Goethe as the wife of Epimetheus. But we see very clearly that Goethe takes what is an external action and elevates it into a spiritual world. We see the reflective soul of Epimetheus and see it connected with Pandora, that is to say, in this soul of Epimetheus lives that which is spread out in the world as wisdom, which is reflected upon as in a dream. The characterization of Epimetheus, who dreams wisdom, which is nothing other than Pandora herself when personified, is wonderful. He feels unsatisfied and weak, and then, in the further course of the drama, Goethe has Prometheus, the brother, confront Epimetheus. There Epimetheus raves about the [beloved, but also vanished, divine] Pandora, about the all-gifted Pandora. Goethe shows us that through this figure, worldly wisdom is illuminated to him, but worldly wisdom as it is grasped by man in reflection. What is this reflected truth like? It is abstract, uncreative, unproductive. Imagine that we could combine in our soul all knowledge about the entire world; but this knowledge would be unproductive if it were only reflected. Just as the wife of Epimetheus, just as Pandora, is endowed with the wisdom of the world but is unproductive. Prometheus, who has no sense for this Pandora, confronts Epimetheus; while Epimetheus raves about Pandora's magnificent hair, about how beautifully her foot moves – Prometheus says: Oh, I know how it is made. [I know how Pandora was made by Hephaestus, the blacksmith, and how she was brought to life by Zeus. He thinks only of the origin of the goddess, not of the beauty of what has come into being, what has been created, and so Pandora, who is otherwise unproductive, gives him the impetus for productivity. And this is what can come out of it as a reaction in him.] In Pandora's case, it is something mechanically put together, something that cannot be put into practice; something against which he asserts his saying:

The true man's true celebration is the deed!

Now Goethe shows how Elpore and Epimeleia, Hope and Foresight, have sprung from the marriage between Epimetheus and Pandora. [In her departure, Pandora took one of her daughters, Elpore, with her to the gods and left Epimeleia, chosen by Epimetheus, with her father.] These two daughters show different sides of Epimetheus's nature, [especially the latter in particular]. Hope, [Elpore], is what reflection alone can defend in relation to the future. The one who is a forward-thinking person sees what he has thought come into being in reality; the one who is a reflective person can say: I expect this or that to happen in the future; because what should happen does not come from himself. On the other hand, there is Epimeleia, the other daughter, who protects the past.

Prometheus also has a scion, Phileros; the one who descends from this I-human Prometheus is the actual caretaker of human I-ness. But already in the son we see the full one-sidedness of mere self-seeking. He no longer wants to create. He no longer wants to create. He cannot endure in a useful, different, thinking activity. This does not endure, because one-sided striving for the self is not complemented by wisdom. In Prometheus, this striving for the self is still present in such a way that it permeates the whole being of Prometheus. In the son, it manifests itself in such a way that it shows its harmful side at the same time. The son is not only the creator, but also the enjoyer of what is there. In this way, he causes conflict. In his blind rage, he even wounds the one who protects what exists, [his beloved] Epimeleia, the daughter of Epimetheus, in a fight.

Thus the powers of the human soul, the reflective and the thinking powers, confront each other in this Goethean drama. [And so these powers fight each other. But nothing is achieved by this; for the soul powers only increase and strengthen each other through harmonious interaction. Only in this way can truth fulfill its mission in the human being.

Goethe shows us how, ultimately, it is through the interaction of the two currents that true human salvation comes about. And Goethe also shows us how what he has depicted here is, for him, a mature result of development. Goethe looked back to the time when he had only developed the Promethean nature in himself one-sidedly. In 1774, the Goethe who was certainly already endowed with all the makings of Goethe, but still immaturely youthful, expressed this one-sided Promethean truth as his conviction in his 'Prometheus' at that time, and it flows towards us there. And if today we find a certain self-satisfaction in pointing to this youthful “Prometheus” as if it gave us the whole of Goethe, then we have to say: this is only a one-sided expression of Goethe himself. Goethe did not stop at thinking ahead; he added the thinking of his mature knowledge, his reflection. No, not only the premeditation, not only that which rejects all wisdom, not only the pre-thinking that rejects all reflection, but the confluence of both alone can establish the mission of truth.

That Goethe in his youth stood on a one-sided point of view, we can still gather from something else. He does not remember the words in the first part of “Faust” where Faust sets out to translate the Bible. There we see how Faust approaches the Bible and wants to replace the correct word “In the beginning was the word” with another: “In the beginning was the deed.” This is what he wants to contribute to the Bible more as a youthful person; that was not Goethe's final opinion. People should stop seeing the whole of Goethe in this. In his youth, Goethe probably cultivated this Promethean point of view, but later he clearly showed how he had progressed beyond it, how he later knew that in addition to the aforementioned deed, in order to develop people healthily, the word, that is to say the reflection of the wisdom imprinted by the world's spirits, must occur. Therefore, in his “Pandora”, Goethe adds from his totality, broadening his youthful point of view:

From heaven,
Senkert's word and deed blessedly descend,
a gift descends, undreamt of before.

That is, he means, unimagined by himself in the past, when he still believed that he had to correct the Gospel of John at this point, to replace the passage “In the beginning was the word” with “In the beginning was the deed”. For Goethe, the deed becomes the word, which expresses the character of what was previously conceived. The word becomes the other, the illuminating wisdom of the world. This is why Goethe says in “Pandora”:

What you below feel is our wish;
What you can give, we know.
You Titans make great beginnings; but
To lead to the eternal good, the eternal beautiful
Is the work of the gods; let it be.

Thus Goethe complements his youthful Prometheus point of view in the right, harmonious way with the point of view of Epimetheus, showing us what attitude and loyalty to true philosophy should be. In this way, Goethe's example shows us the mission of truth within our own human hearts.

Today you have recognized the truth as an educator of the human being. You have seen that truth is something most personal and at the same time something impersonal; something that makes the human being an I-human being, and something that in turn brings the I together with all other beings. You have seen that the ego is so strong on its two sides that it still expresses its selfless character in the Epimetheus-like element of truth and its selfish character in the Prometheus-like element on the other side; and you have seen that it is possible to bring about harmony between the two in spiritual-scientific truth, which encompasses the two, leading the will up to wisdom, leading wisdom down and allowing it to be seen as light, to illuminate the will itself.

Thus we see that truth, although it yields to the strong human ego at an intermediate stage, nevertheless fulfills the great mission in its perfection of shaping the ego ever higher and higher. Truth has this mission, to be the greatest educator of the human ego, at the same time leading to strong inwardness in thinking ahead and to strong selflessness in reflecting.

Thus, truth is the power that has the strongest mission, that leads the ego from level to level, making the soul more and more perfect. And we see this from the point of view that Goethe himself took towards truth, not ignoring any earlier stage, adding the necessary Epimetheus element to the Prometheus element. And Goethe is a true model of a person striving for truth precisely where we eavesdrop on him so intimately, where we readily admit: precisely because we see that he has become more and more mature, we can emulate him; he is great because he shows us the hopeful paths in the pursuit of truth. And then we feel this striving in us in such a way that it fills us with healthy strength, making us stronger and more unselfish. We feel that, in contrast to this, the sentence falls silent that wants to say that truth depends solely on the point of view.

But then again we turn to Goethe and let another mood come over us. In all seriousness of striving for truth, we must never abandon that other healing element that tells us: When you believe you have reached some level of truth, have recognized something, it is also able to tell you on the other side: You must also have already decided; you must tell yourself about no truth that it could be completely infallible, you must strive to let it appear before your soul in an even more truthful form, even with regard to that which you have already recognized as truth. When we feel earnest and dignity in our striving for truth, we also feel a serious, dignified humor, which on the other hand so beautifully corrects what pride could instill in us as a sense of truth. We then also feel the other thing that Goethe always said when he was in danger of holding on to the one truth too tightly: Oh, the thought that has been considered could only be an illusion, the thought that has been considered could be something that does not prove feasible. Yes, let us also feel that as a corrective to our arrogance of truth, as a strain on our seriousness, our dignity in the pursuit of truth! Let us feel the Goethe word

Quite and truly
I am a poor wretch.
My dreams are not true,
And my thoughts go awry.

If we can feel this, then we will be able to cope with our lofty ideal of truth.

On a beautiful September day this year, I went on a trip to Zurich. Since the day was free, I decided to go to Maria-Einsiedeln, which was an important place of pilgrimage in the early Middle Ages and enjoys a wondrous location. There was also a so-called pilgrimage on this day, and since fine, sunny weather was in prospect, one could expect an extraordinarily lively atmosphere in Maria-Einsiedeln, as is well known.

I also wanted to make a pilgrimage, for which there was an opportunity here, so I took a carriage to the Devil's Bridge, which goes up and down hills, and after a while I found myself there in front of a house that had recently been built in place of an old, historically significant house. a plaque identifying it as the birthplace of the famous physician and naturalist Philippus Aureolus Theophrastus Bombastus Paracelsus von Hohenheim, who was born here in 1493 and died in 1541, at the age of forty-eight. If you linger there a little, you really feel the magic of nature, as you can only encounter it in the Alps. All the plants and animals there inspire you with a sense of intimacy, a language of the most intimate familiarity with the untouched essence of nature. And in the midst of such strong impressions of the interweaving with an outwardly charming nature, the image of the young Paracelsus arose in me, who had spent the first nine years of his life in this impressive environment. In him, we have a receptive personality who, even in his childhood years, was open to learning about nature. This boy had an individuality that seemed to prepare him to eavesdrop on many of nature's secrets in such a unique place, even if it was only at first by guesswork. We can imagine how the boy longingly awaited his absent father, a respected and busy doctor, with his questions, how he often accompanied his father on short trips, and how many a word about patients, their care, and the surrounding nature was exchanged in questions and meaningful explanations. When the boy turned nine, the family moved to Villach in Carinthia, where he was able to continue his interaction with nature and his father to an even greater extent.

Now follow me in your mind to a house in the eastern part of Salzburg, where a plaque announces that Theophrastus Bombastus Paracelsus von Hohenheim died here on September 23, 1541. The legend associated with his death may come to mind, according to which the doctors, who were extremely hostile towards him, hired someone to throw him off the nearby hill. Between the years mentioned, a highly peculiar life is enclosed, and this remarkable personality at the turn of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries appears in the development of mankind as the dawn of a certain epoch, which can still show the spiritual sky of all that is beautiful and grandiose. Basically, everything that can be heard from the soul of Paracelsus is a testimony to the fact that he maintained a continuous and intimate connection with nature and understood the world around him. He maintained these strong relationships during his extensive travels throughout the world, in the areas of his homeland, throughout Germany, France, Spain, Portugal, Holland, Denmark, Sweden, Russia, Turkey, everywhere quickly understanding and at home with what presented itself to him in the most diverse forms as the secret of existence. Thus, he gathered a rich treasure trove of knowledge and wisdom on his travels, and how he explored the world in his own way becomes even clearer to us when we imagine how he lived out the impressions he had brought with him from there and from his youth at the University of Basel, especially when we consider how university studies were conducted at the time, and how it was with scientific research and medical knowledge in particular. The old writings of Galen and Avicenna were used as a basis everywhere, and the learned men of the universities of that time delivered a kind of commentary on these ancient writers in Latin.

Paracelsus said to them: You speak about books, you are far removed from all that nature speaks to us in powerful revelations when we only open the gates of our soul to her, and he left this official teaching center of that time. Some called him a tramp then and still call him one today, but he was only a tramp on the outside, and only because he believed that if you wanted to learn the secrets of the world, you had to go to the spiritual beings that lived in that very world. He wanted to use his clairvoyant powers of the soul to learn how nature lives in its creation, to eavesdrop on the secrets of the world in all the countries he traveled through. Not from books, but from the great book of nature, he wanted to turn the individual pages of the same, as he said, while traveling from place to place. Paracelsus believed that behind the sensual lies the spiritual and that what is outwardly perceptible is only a manifestation of the spiritual. The great, all-embracing spiritual has different sensual forms in plants, animals and humans in different countries and climates, although the spiritual is unified. He sought the spiritual in its diversity, like a hidden aroma or a concealed light. It was also clear to him that the external form of the current life, including that of the types of humanity and the individual peoples, in their healthy and diseased states, also belong to these diversities. He imagined disease to be something mysterious, but with a different character in Germany, Hungary, Italy, and so on. He wanted to get to know what came to his mind when he was directly confronted with nature, in order to establish a salutary science of medicine. When we see Paracelsus placed in the multiform world, we recognize how he found special powers in the great book of nature and in his soul, and what he said, according to his studies and experiences, takes on an almost personal character. He developed a very unique state of mind as a result of his special relationship with nature. Without this leading to arrogance, he said that he felt forces speaking in and through him, which he felt as if not his own arbitrariness and logic, but as if nature were speaking directly in and through him. Only someone who is capable of grasping such a relationship, in which Paracelsus felt completely natural and at ease, will be able to understand how he could not relate to his colleagues and their books differently than actually occurred, since it did not appear to him that they were striving for genuine knowledge, when he said: “He who wants to learn and practice true pharmacology should not go to the old authors, not to Galen and Avicenna, not to Bologna, Paris and so on, not to those, not there, but follow me; for mine is the monarchy!” He was so grounded in himself, and his motto was: “No one should be a servant to another; he can remain alone for himself.” Thus, we see Paracelsus as an honest, defiant personality among his contemporaries, as a person in whom a clairvoyant power had emerged, who knew how nature lived in its creation, how it expressed itself in the healthy and diseased state of man.

But just as uncomfortable as he felt as a student, so he also felt as a professor and city physician in Basel. Although he was famous for his travels and his skills, and although he was able to help where all others failed, he was more or less considered by his colleagues to be a tramp who had roamed with dubious people, and although he should have behaved differently as a teacher in office and dignity, he had remained the same even in his university life. So he didn't get along with his colleagues either; even when we follow him on his travels, how he performs famous cures on the poor, on princes and respected people, and is cheated of his fee by them, as well as at the highest levels. He became famous, among other things, for healing a person whom we can regard as a forerunner of the age of printing, namely Desiderius Erasmus of Rotterdam, who, as a credible scholar, expressed a judgment full of respect and reverence for Paracelsus. In Basel, a strange and momentous event took place: Paracelsus cured a canon of Lichtenfels of a severe and painful illness, and had stipulated a fee of one hundred talers for the cure. The sufferer took the remedies prescribed by Paracelsus three times, and then recovered. However, he did not want to pay the sum for such a simple service, as he saw it. Paracelsus then became quite angry and sent loose notes around the whole city. The city council, however, told him that if, after such insults to the highly esteemed canon, he had not left the city within half an hour, he would be put in prison. Paracelsus therefore fled from the city under the cover of darkness.

As he so often clashed with his environment, so it happened with his colleagues, since he cured according to other aspects. Besides, they took it very badly that he shared the connections that were self-evident to him, which he had overheard as secrets of nature and now applied to the healing and care of the sick, quite unashamedly, that he and connected, did not believe that he should express them better in the Latin language with its sharp, abstract contours, but instead used the living German language with its great flexibility and fine nuances. His colleagues did not understand how his knowledge, which was inaccessible to them, was interwoven with innumerable imponderables, how he was able to present this in German, contrary to the custom of learned schools, to his listeners, and thereby dare to reduce the dignity of the university according to their outdated view. During his wanderings, they tried to blacken his name everywhere. The scholars challenged him to Latin disputations, which he accepted, but in which, in the event of technical differences, he shouted at them in German, thus providing a vivid picture of the relationship between him and his contemporaries. It is understandable that almost everyone treated such a man in the most hostile way, and also that his life could only be short in such a grueling struggle. With his comprehensive and penetrating knowledge, he was unable to adapt to the externalized habits of his colleagues in his field and to wear the old-fashioned robe in which they appeared at the university at that time, so that they said of him: “Our colleague Paracelsus was seen walking around in the robe of a cart driver.” Those who felt they were no match for him in terms of knowledge and ability, and whom he openly despised because of their scientific masquerade, can be understood to have felt a deep hatred for him, and this is the source of the legend that formed at the end of his life: that he was deliberately annoyed to death or even thrown off the mountain near Salzburg. Thus we see his portrait, traversed by the deep traces of mental labor and the furrows of suffering that his opponents had caused.

In order to get closer to the spiritual life of this man, we have to try to answer the question of how Paracelsus actually imagined the surrounding nature, which he needed for his medical science, and human nature in his individual way; how peculiar his spiritual conception was. He initially established the following points of view: One must be able to comprehend the whole great world, the macrocosm, in its manifestation and understand how man, as microcosm, is situated in it as a particular detail, how air relates to the lungs, light to the eye, how the same works outside and inside in man. Everything that has effect outside we also find in man with its laws. Therefore, we have to look for what can make a person healthy or sick in the macrocosm, especially as a member of the Earth planet as a large organism in which the human being represents a link. He then said: Although the human being can be integrated into the chain of natural phenomena, he is still a self-contained being. The forces of the whole of nature are concentrated in man, but cannot easily lead him to cut himself off from the external forces and beings of nature. This is because, said Paracelsus, man has within him a living architect, an “archaeus”, who literally tears him away from the whole of nature and gives him his own unique configuration.

Paracelsus wanted to explore what a person absorbs from external influences in order to then process them within themselves, and he took such elementary insights to the highest expression. This is the most important thing to him, but not much is said about it. When man eats bread and fruit, for example, he said, the “archaeus” transforms it in man into flesh, into the various substances of the organs, as an inner alchemist, and depending on how this happens, the external substances become healthy, useful bodily substances or poison. He then examined this transformation, the unconscious art of this being, and viewed a certain type of disease from this perspective.

He established the third law: what has been integrated in this way is organized from many groups of individual organs and is independent. The human being is a whole small world, a microcosm in the image of the macrocosm.

He therefore came to the conclusion that out there in the cosmic conditions of the large planetary bodies there is something that corresponds to the microcosm of the human being. For example, the way the sun and moon relate to each other is how the heart relates to the brain internally; so you have to study both in their uniqueness and mutual interrelations and transfer them to the human being in their effectiveness, and likewise transform Saturn and Jupiter in their movements, sizes and light conditions to the liver and spleen of the human being, as their microcosmic image.

Thus, he constructed an internal heaven from the organs of the human being as an image of the external starry sky. He thought of the dynamically differentiated energies in the human being in this way, considering nothing to be separate, but everything in lively interaction. It is interesting to see how he defended what appeared to him to be the effect of an inner heavenly system, not as a rough interaction of the food we take in, but in rough language: “Oh, they don't understand anything, those who believe that the food we take in interior according to their chemical constitution, so to speak, only in continuation of their external chemical forces; because that would be about the same as regarding the plant as an effect of the dung, compared to the living configuration of the organs active in the human being. Thus, we see how the interacting organs appear to him like the dynamics of a complicated clockwork, and Paracelsus says: Man can therefore be “offended”, depending on the inner alchemist prepares the spiritual or unspiritual, with normal or anomalous interaction of the organs, even without external causes!

Fourthly, Paracelsus says as a basic principle: the soul falls ill through its own passions and emotional upheavals, with the organism also affected as an after-effect.

Finally, as a fifth point of view: the completeness of the science of medicine is given to him by the fact that the person in his illness must be seen as someone who suffers from his fate - karma - from something that towers above him spiritually, that intervenes in the spiritual microcosm from the spiritual macrocosm, so that the former is completely under the influence of the latter.

Thus, Paracelsus combined a wide-ranging knowledge with the greatest trust in the spiritual and mental powers of the human being, but also with the broadest trust in the spiritual forces of the great world that underlies the organization of the human being. He therefore said, through the mind we find God behind the natural event, through faith we find Christ and through imagination we find the Holy Spirit. He had a deep soul, his heart was imbued with the most intimate piety. We see the most essential part of his clairvoyant vision in his piety, from which everything that accompanied his deeds as a doctor emerged. It is therefore understandable that he described love and hope as his two most important remedies, and the nature of his medical treatment emerged for him without fail from this, when he did everything in full love and devotion that was possible according to his five points of view, and in the knowledge of these connections, he hoped that his remedy would have the healing effect that he had intuitively seen. He lived completely with the disease and the conditions of his patients in general. He looked clairvoyantly according to his five aspects, what had worked from the outside into the person, what the “inner alchemist” had done on it. What then penetrated from the great spirit of the whole of nature to the sick person, was not reflected back to him in abstract terms, but in such a way that it flowed down from the sick person to him again and concentrated in him to that which he had to prescribe as a remedy. Therefore, we can understand how Paracelsus was deeply convinced that his medical work was a continuous production as an artist. He guided the substances beyond nature to become effective remedies by forming and combining them for this purpose. Higher nature in nature was his art, his intention and his alchemy; he created art products in relation to nature. In Paracelsus, something reminds us of Goethe's saying:

When the healthy nature of man functions as a whole, when he feels himself to be a part of a great, beautiful, dignified and valuable whole in the world, when harmonious comfort grants him pure, free delight – then the universe, if it could feel itself, would exult as if it had reached its goal and would admire the summit of its own becoming and being.

There is no more precise way to describe this clairvoyant man than through these words!

And if we turn our gaze from Paracelsus to Goethe over the centuries, then, despite all the differences, Goethe's spirit has much in common with that of Paracelsus. We see that, as a young boy, Goethe placed himself in nature when, at the age of seven, he took a music stand, decorated it with all kinds of minerals from his father's collection, with plants and shells, crowned the whole thing with a small incense cone, and then waited for the sun to rise. He collected the rays in a burning glass, ignited the incense stick with it, and thus offered a sacrifice to the great, almighty God in front of his altar. If we consider the motives for which the young Goethe acted in this way, then we feel how he, like Paracelsus, felt most intimately connected with nature. Paracelsus said of himself, as a rough-and-ready country boy, that he was sent out of the house in all weathers, and that he did not grow up in soft beds on figs and wheat bread, but on sour milk and coarse oat bread.

In Goethe, we find a rarely disturbed harmony, always soon regained, also in his view of nature, which is evident in many ways in his work as a scientific researcher on his trip to Italy, where he, like Paracelsus, traveled the country observing keenly and wrote home about coltsfoot, for example, which, among other things, particularly caught his eye as it developed in different ways after changing the climate and sun, location, soil type and so on. He sees the emergence of diversity from unity, as he particularly wanted to demonstrate with the primal plant, from which he developed the diversity of plant natural phenomena. He also wrote that he would like to travel further to India, not to discover something new, but to follow nature in its ever-changing diversity.

In this way, something in Goethe was awakened that can be found in many ways in the figure of Paracelsus. And when Goethe embodied his main character in Faust, many traits are interwoven into this that evoke the thought that, when conceiving of “Faust”, Goethe was under the influence of the character of Paracelsus, despite the great difference between “Faust” and the historical Paracelsus, who died before the end of the forties of his life, but until then carried an inner harmonious seclusion as a treasure in his soul, which he had gained from his intimate intercourse with nature. It was only a short lifetime of this in itself rarely happy spirit, which his research results and his professional activity connected with the eternal reasons of nature.

Faust begins where Paracelsus ends, but with great doubt in all his extensive knowledge, Faust strives in the years of his life that Paracelsus no longer reached.

Goethe had developed Faust to the point where he had reached the stage of soul development that Paracelsus had when he penetrated into the essence of nature, when Faust breaks out into the words:

Exalted Spirit, thou gavest me, gavest me everything
I asked for. Thou didst not turn
Thy countenance to me in fire in vain.
Gavest me the glorious kingdom of nature
and the power to feel and enjoy it. Thou dost
allow only cold, wondering visitors,
granting me to look into her deep breast,
as into the bosom of a friend.
You drove the line of the living
before me, and taught me my brothers
in the silent bush, in air and water.

Thus he was related to the life and workings of nature, but nevertheless Faust's research was different from that of Paracelsus; for Goethe shows us that Faust's insights are not always gained in direct contact with nature, as they are with Paracelsus, but remain confined to the realm of the soul forces.

Therefore, in Mephistopheles, without such a confrontation with the phenomena of nature, Goethe brought a confrontation of the soul, so that the soul was not seen in nature, but only in the soul.

And yet, we can see a strong relationship between Faust and Paracelsus when the latter put the Bible aside for a long time and turned away from it, just as Paracelsus did from the learned works of Galen and Avicenna. Both trusted their own powers to find their own way. Thus we feel that Goethe often sees Paracelsus in the background and, to a certain extent, sees him through Faust. For example, in the scene where Faust goes out into the spring landscape with Wagner and recounts:

My father was a dark man of honor
Who, in his own way, thought long and hard
about nature and its sacred circles
with whimsical effort;
who, in the company of adepts,
locked himself in the black kitchen
and, according to endless recipes,
brewed up the adverse.
Then a red lion, a bold suitor,
was married in the lukewarm bath of the lily,
and then both tormented with open flames
from one bridal chamber into another.

One could almost see Paracelsus talking to his father. Or when we read how Faust struggles to “translate the New Testament into his beloved German”, into the language that flows from his soul, just as Paracelsus does not want to express the wisdom of nature that he has deciphered in the foreign Latin, but only in German. But nowhere in Faust does the struggle with the surrounding nature in the direction of its knowledge appear as it does in Paracelsus, but in the first part with moral, in the second part with spiritual, spiritual powers - Homunculus.

What Faust wanted to achieve was something natural for Paracelsus, who thought and acted completely selflessly. Only at the end, after a selfish life, when he had become blind in old age, did Faust achieve selflessness, when “a bright light shines within”, when he became a mystic, when he gained insight into the innermost being, which Paracelsus had discovered throughout his life as an elementary feeling spirit from external nature. Paracelsus was the dawn at the turn of the fifteenth to the sixteenth century, clearly visible to all. In Faust, we can only seek it within, as a soul-acting power.

Why was Goethe able to describe Faust as he did? Because something special occurred in the development of humanity between the life of Paracelsus and the conception of Faust, which powerfully shifted the earlier conditions and steered them into new channels. What Copernicus and Kepler discovered, Paracelsus no longer experienced. He was only the dawn of a science that had then entered the morning dawn from the sensual into the supersensual. Paracelsus penetrated through the phenomenal side of nature to the spirit, but through Copernicus and the men working in his spirit, humanity has been led into the age of intellectuality, of thinking, which does not want to penetrate the veil to explain the world of the senses in the sense of earlier times, but seeks satisfaction in the knowledge of the soul. It was therefore inevitable that a spiritual approach would be chosen as the basis for the work of Goethe's Faust, just as Copernicus, Kepler, Giordano Bruno and Galileo worked in the same way. As a mystic, Paracelsus appropriated the same knowledge that Faust acquired through direct observation of nature. Goethe's Faust shows how modern man depends on the inner life of the soul. In the same way, spiritual science searches in the depths of the soul for that which can lead from the transitory to the infinite eternal.

After Paracelsus, a new era dawned, which said that if we turn to the non-sensuous, we will gain a correct understanding of our world system. And so Goethe presented his Faust as a representative of this view who had risen to a higher level. Spiritual science is advancing along this path, which leads from the realm of the soul into the secrets of nature. Just as Giordano Bruno broke through the blue firmament of the eighth sphere, so spiritual science is now breaking through the boundaries of birth and death by revealing the soul as an infinite being that reaches beyond space and time. Goethe thus seems like someone who shows us the beginning of the right path by presenting us with an image in Faust, to which the memory of Paracelsus leads us, in order to be able to understand him even more.

Thus, individual human beings are placed in the context of the further development of the world, and so today, too, man must again break new ground so that he can find the harmonization of his soul forces in his insights, beyond Paracelsus and Faust. Based on such relationships, one feels more and more deeply the inner affinity between Paracelsus and Goethe, especially in the latter's words:

When the healthy nature of man functions as a whole, when he feels himself to be a part of a great, beautiful, dignified and valuable whole in the world, when harmonious comfort grants him pure, free delight – then the universe, if it could feel itself, would exult as if it had reached its goal and would admire the summit of its own becoming and being.

In man as in a microcosm, Goethe, like Paracelsus, seeks and sees the entire workings of the great world, the macrocosm.

On the way back from the birthplace of Paracelsus in Maria-Einsiedeln, one is thoroughly shaken by the journey over the valley and hills, and in this way, one becomes quite aware of the gnarled character of Paracelsus, in addition to which, the memory of Goethe also resurfaced on approaching the pilgrimage church. Symbolically, the spirit of the great seemed to manifest itself to me in the outwardly small-looking church of Maria-Einsiedeln, as soon as one really lets the interior take effect on oneself and appreciates the tasteful interior in its kind accordingly. Goethe once stood in this atmospheric room, in this small yet great church, which, like a microcosm in the macrocosm, also presented the human being as an image of the great world to the contemplative observer. I sensed this in his words and could imagine how Goethe, in this place where Paracelsus often stood, felt the basic sensation of the correspondence between macrocosm and microcosm in man becoming clearly expressed within himself. The path from Paracelsus to Goethe shows us this: the two boundary points of this path, the evening star and the rising sun of the new age, point to a profound similarity between the souls of the two men as a living protest against an external, unspiritual, non-spiritual understanding of things, which Goethe says in Faust, and which, significantly, Mephisto says:

Who wants to recognize and describe something alive,
First seeks to drive out the spirit,
Then he has the parts in his hand,
Unfortunately, only the spiritual bond is missing.
Encheiresin naturae is what chemistry calls it,
Mocks itself and does not know how.

This also belongs to the character of Paracelsus as a living protest against overlooking the whole when considering the parts. Instead of the final words, Goethe had written in the earlier version of “Faust”:

He makes himself an ass and does not know how.

Paracelsus and Goethe both condemned such a view of nature; both were inspired by the opposite tendency, which, in line with Mephisto's words, could be translated as:

Who wants to get to the bottom of something living
should seek to fathom the spirit in the depths!
And when he has the parts in his hand,
he sees the spirit's light
as the only salvation in the spiritual bond
that holds together what otherwise does not recognize itself
and the secrets of the universe.

Report in the “General-Anzeiger der Münchner Neuesten Nachrichten” of December 17, 1905

C. Th. “Brotherhood and the struggle for existence”. Dr. Rudolf Steiner, the well-known speaker of the Theosophical Society, gave a lecture on December 15 [= 16] in the Prince's Hall of Café Luitpold, in which he discussed the above topic from a theosophical point of view. The Theosophical Society regards it as one of its tasks to work for the brotherhood of mankind, for the ideal of universal love. So the speaker was led to choose the above topic. In a lengthy exposition, he sought to show how, according to the theosophical view, the development towards a separate existence in the struggle for existence must be followed by the gradual overcoming of egoism through devotion to other beings in the higher consciousness of the spiritual connection of all beings in the divine being, from which everything has emerged. We have grown out of the whole, we must grow back into the whole. According to the theosophical ideal, the brotherhood of man must also be an inner one. We must recognize the soul of others and seek to give ourselves spiritually to our neighbor. In this way, people who are already at one in the highest thoughts of reason and intellect must be led upwards to harmony. Egoism has led people to toil, love will lead them to salvation. - The lecture, which was received with approval, was followed by a lengthy question and answer session.

It is commonly believed that there are so many diseases, but only one health. This is nonsense, however, because in reality there are as many types of health as there are people. Health is something entirely individual and ultimately different for each person. However, we only have a very general idea of what it is to be healthy, and anything that does not match this image is considered an illness. We should endeavor to enable the patient to lead the best and most comfortable life possible despite the abnormality of the disease, as if he did not have this abnormality at all. But we should not want to reduce him to the general template that we have somehow created and now want to impose on everything.

Of course, some people need a certain abnormality. This does not mean that we should now let the diseases take their course. If we want to take the concept of “health” seriously, we have to consider a different concept of development in all its depth and meaning.

Animals in their natural environment never overeat themselves, but this often happens when they are adopted into civilization. In this care, they contract a variety of diseases. Animals also develop certain diseases as soon as they are captured, while they did not suffer from them in the wild. Certain mental illnesses are virtually a consequence of the culture of a particular stage.

Physically and chemically, the animal body is an impossible mixture. The life body is therefore a necessary link for its sustenance. The astral body contains the causes of what happens in the physical and etheric bodies. The astral body in an animal has no such wide-ranging potential for individual development as it does in a human being. It is a tightly closed circle of animal instincts, desires and passions. The animal fits perfectly into its circumstances, and that with its physical, etheric and astral bodies. The captive animal can only be taught different habits with regard to the physical and etheric bodies, but it is not possible to influence its astral body. This is why the animal cannot integrate itself into new circumstances in a healthy way, because this would have to start from the astral body.

In the case of human beings, too, far-reaching changes have to start with the astral body. If we want to remain healthy when transitioning from simpler to more complicated circumstances, we first have to adapt to those new circumstances from the inside out, from the I and the astral body. This adaptation is a work of the I on the astral body, and only it brings health to the etheric body and the physical body.

Man is absolutely designed for this development right into his physical body. Not every phenomenon means the same in all kingdoms of nature, as the materialistic way of thinking believes. This is the case, for example, with the softening of the bones, rickets. Man is in a state of progressive development with all his parts and members. The body has developed from very different, earlier forms to its present shape. The I and the astral body will continue to transform the human organism. In his bone system, the human being must still have the possibility of softening, so that he can also develop there. In the human being, on the one hand, there are tendencies towards softening and, on the other hand, towards hardening, so that he does not have to remain in a stationary state. The inner human being, his I and the astral body, properly guided by the I, must direct such transformations. Rickets is a premature remodeling of the bones because it is not properly guided by the ego.

Spiritual science must intervene in the area of disease predispositions, correcting medicine here and steering it in the right direction. Each person has their own specific place in existence and must accordingly remodel their organs in their own individual way for their personal health.

Paracelsus taught profound truths in this regard and was far ahead of his time. He believed that health is an entirely individual matter and cannot be considered and corrected in any stereotypical way when a disturbance occurs.

What criteria does the self use to maintain health? This cannot be studied empirically. The important thing is to recognize the right criteria for health in the sense of inner harmony, contentment, the joy of being, and an untroubled and undisturbed zest for life. This feeling of contentment is worth much more than all the external anointing and tanning from the sun. Wherever you find joy in flowers, trees and sunshine, wherever your zest for life is heightened and your love of life is strengthened, you will stay healthy or be able to restore balance to your disturbed health. A healthy soul also creates a healthy body. On the contrary, external concoctions and procedures can rob a person of their health. So, it is primarily a matter of keeping the soul healthy. “Mens sana in corpore sano!"

This saying can only be understood correctly with this in mind. A healthy body also indicates a healthy soul. On the other hand, a healthier soul can never be created by external transformation of the body.

But how does this attitude go together with the teaching of asceticism, as it is, for example, accused of theosophy? Theosophy is misunderstood if it is thought to preach mortification. The theosophist does not mortify himself; on the contrary, he would mortify himself if he had to take part in all the social hustle and bustle, for example, sitting down to dinner or going to a music hall. In the light of correctly understood Theosophy, it is nonsense to say that something or other is prescribed for man, that he must live in such and such a way. Theosophy has no dogmas in this sense, and no agitation for vegetarianism. Meanwhile, individual Theosophers come to refrain from eating meat through their feelings and intuitions.

For others, however, eating meat is still a necessity. It is also possible to develop the view that eating meat is no longer desirable in an even higher sense. A doctor who was not a theosophist answered the question of why he did not eat meat by saying that he was simply disgusted by the idea of eating cat or horse meat, just as most people would be. For those who advance in spiritual development, the desire for certain things no longer arises by itself. Their instinct for certain foods has simply changed. Those who still cling to the Tingeltangel must be left there, and those who have no desire for it should not go there. It is the sublimation of instincts and desires that keeps the physical organs healthy and makes them healthy.

Thus the spiritual-scientific world view wants to give people the ability to direct their astral body in such a way that it comes into harmony with the law of advancing humanity. One does not just occasionally stop in recognition, but also in the experience of one's life.

The ego of many people often follows the will-o'-the-wisps and thus generates selfishness, the spirit of lies and error, thus generating erring temperaments and passions. If the ego is not in harmony with the order of the world, it will stray restlessly and follow all the will-o'-the-wisps that appear. It is important to familiarize oneself with the erring temperaments and character traits. Few people today can be completely honest and truthful. But this shortcoming causes illness and infirmity. Some people can no longer be helped in some respects because they are caught up in overly complicated relationships with communities, so that they are unable to break away from them. Often, in a community where sick people live alongside healthy ones, the actual causes of illness lie with the healthy and not with the sick. And the more receptive natures absorb these illnesses, which are basically the fault of the strong natures. Keeping oneself healthy is therefore a duty towards all fellow human beings. Some people carry an illness from their neighbor without having caused it themselves.

By keeping ourselves healthy, we have the opportunity to align ourselves with the great laws of the world and thus make our own and other people's illnesses disappear. However, this requires people to work together properly. Only in this way is it possible to guarantee general health.

Short-sightedness, for example, is due to the fact that in our current education system, the eye has to remain passive for too long, always receiving impressions only from the outside, but not being prompted by the soul to look and observe in the open air, where there are near and far objects. This adaptation must be brought about by the soul. Where this does not happen, the eye loses its ability to adapt.

A world view that allows everything to be dictated from the outside is extremely unhealthy, whereas one that drives and creates from within is a truly healthy world view. The constant absorption of impressions from the outside has the same effect as what we have described as myopia in the eye.

One must form one's world view in an open-minded love. Today's books are often written in such a way that the truths are smeared into people's mouths, so to speak. However, those books that require long study and reflection to grasp their content are the truly good books in the theosophical sense. They are designed to stimulate inner productivity.

In the classroom, you can dissect plants with children, but when you are out in nature with young people, you should bring them closer to the whole of living nature. In this context, analyzing and destroying would be inappropriate. Love, in whatever form it appears, has a healing effect on people because it produces noble feelings and gives something out of itself. It is also healthy to produce in art and science or in similar behavior. Anything that encourages people to work independently is healthy. Theosophy aims to ennoble and harmonize people's inner emotional life by showing them the developments in the outside world and pointing out the harmony that prevails in it. This makes our mind productive and creates health in soul and body. A worldview such as this makes people capable of creating counterweights within themselves against all external influences, thus arming themselves against hypochondria and hysteria. Where this fixed point is developed within, the person is then stabilized for every external situation. They can then also give themselves over to pleasure without being harmed by it. It becomes an expression of their deep and true health.

When Theosophy is introduced into life in this way, it proves itself in our lives, and thus its validity is also proved, without objections having to be logically refuted.

Nowhere in life is there a greater need for a spiritual understanding of existence than in the face of a growing child, for anyone who has an open mind. For even if it is of infinite importance for all life and being to see through the world of the senses to the spiritual foundations of existence, it appears to be something quite special to help the still hidden spirit to its full free existence in relation to the growing child, regardless of the relationship we have with him. The child stands before us, enveloped in the material existence of his future. We know that this future is to be brought out of the material, we know that out of the material the spirit is to unfold, we are faced with the task of nurturing and caring for the spirit within the outer appearance of the senses. And if material knowledge can lead us into error with regard to our world view, we know that we will actually stray from our path when it comes to our duty to save humanity if we have no sense of the hidden spirit of the growing child. Spiritual science enables us to free the spirit from material shells.

Earlier I was allowed to speak about education, today we should be more concerned with what the child is. We should be concerned with what the child's relationship is to his future, to a full, human existence. For from such knowledge we will learn how to properly support the growing child.

It is an important question: how should we relate to the child in the past if we want to find the right path for future development?

In today's world, which is steeped in material ideas, heredity and descent play a major role. If we have an intuitive sense of how the child's qualities are passed on, first to the parents and then to the ancestors, we understand how scientific thinking about heredity has blossomed magnificently. But spiritual science will show that we cannot get by with this in relation to the important relationship between man, woman and child. Those who have the task of educating the child see how the talents and abilities, what we summarize as individual, prove to be a new mystery. Those who take their task seriously feel like a new puzzle solver in the face of each individual child's individuality.

Heredity and individuality are part of our subject. Heredity is something that has grown out of contemporary scientific ideas. These are based much less on comprehensive observation of human life than on the nature of plants and animals. Not a single word of criticism is to be said against the positive achievements of scientific research in this field. Much remains to be done in this area. But research is insufficient with regard to the human being. If one observes the individual characteristics of the human being, and first of all the purely physical ones, inherited like those of animals, one falls into abstractions. One arrives at poor concepts for the human being, whereas one arrives at extremely fruitful concepts for the animalistic. We must bear in mind the tremendous difference between humans and animals, that the concepts gained in the lower realms are not sufficient for human life. In the case of humans, we have four elements of their being and so on. The human soul and what flows from the I is independent of the two elements of physical and etheric body. If we consider that in the plant kingdom we are only dealing with the physical and etheric bodies, and in the animal kingdom with these and the astral body, that the astral body is completely devoted to the physical body, while in humans the astral body is influenced by the ego, then we will understand that we cannot transfer the concepts from the other kingdoms to humans.

There is a very simple train of thought to make this clear. The great difference between humans and animals, if we disregard everything occult, appears to us through purely logical consideration. In the case of animals, our interest is equally divided between grandfather, father, son and grandson, and what mainly interests us is the generic. Our interest in the individuality is far below our interest in the species. The species aspect far outweighs the individual. That is why animals have no biography. Only humans have a biography because, in the case of humans, the sentence applies that, in certain respects, they are their own species. Just as we are strongly interested in the species in the case of animals, we must be just as interested in the individual in the case of humans. Some dog owners will say that humans differ from animals only in degrees, and that anyone who observes an animal could also write a biography of their dog. Of course, there are transfers from one to the other. You can also write the biography of a steel spring. But in the true sense, only humans have one, and even the most insignificant ones.

Something else is connected with the fact of the biography. We see how the animal is born and has reached perfection shortly after birth, how it performs certain actions because these actions are related to heredity. Because humans are individuals, we see that we are justified in bringing out the very individuality in each person through education, which corresponds to the development of the animal, which passes through the species.

This leads us to the spiritual-scientific fact that the animal has only three bodies and the human being has the fourth in addition. When we see that movements and impulses, joy and pain, emanate from the animal body, we say that the astral body is connected to the lower bodies and receives their peculiarities through inheritance. This is shown by the similarity of the physiognomy and the individual limbs. The etheric body is the shaper of the images of the physical body. Both receive their structure through their descent.

Because the human being is an individuality, and thus has an underlying ego, the impulses of the ego express themselves in the astral body. When the astral body has inner impulses, there are things in the human being that cannot be understood if one assumes mere inheritance. Objections can easily be raised from the point of view of observation (the Bach and Bernoulli families).

Such things appear as if human inheritance existed, but in a more spiritualized, higher form than in plants and animals. One goes further and shows that in such a case the significant genius can be traced backwards. The genius is a summation of the qualities of his ancestors. — A strange conclusion, because this last genius is not inherited. From one logic, one should not be particularly surprised that a descendant, even if he is a genius, shows certain characteristics of his ancestors; but it is actually only a matter of having a correct understanding of this inheritance. With a plant, one will not be particularly surprised if it turns out differently in different soils.

But no one doubts that it was not the soil that made the plant, but the seed that was planted in the soil. So there is no need to be surprised when you come back wet from the water. To want to prove inheritance by the fact that genius appears at the end of a generation is proof that it does not continue to be inherited. People do not notice the illogicality.

We only see what we want to see. For the educator who stands before the developing child, there is no need for proof that something very individual is released from within, in addition to the inherited traits. When we see this individuality being released, we have to ask ourselves: where does this individuality come from? Materialism has a superstitious chapter on this in its findings. Here, materialism goes against all its assumptions. It would not have been a miracle if 300 years ago it had been said that the individual comes out of nothing, out of the sum of the ancestral line. 300 years ago, people believed that fish could form out of mud. Then an Italian naturalist said: “The living cannot arise from the seemingly dead.” Today, all of natural science shares Haeckel's belief that ‘the living can only arise from the living.’ But when Redi expressed this, it was considered heresy, and he only narrowly escaped the fate of Giordano Bruno.

Today it is no longer fashionable to burn such heretics; they are seen as backward people. Materialism does not burn, it uses other inquisitorial means. For spiritual science, the following applies: spiritual can only arise from spiritual. No combination of physical causes can explain the individual without appealing to a miracle. The materialist is superstitious when it comes to the spiritual. Spiritual science is firmly grounded in the fact that spiritual arises from spiritual. We trace individuality back to spiritual.

Here we are confronted with the comprehensive law that spiritual science presents us with. What appears to us as a species in the lower ranks appears to us in relation to humans as repeated lives on earth. What a person acquires in this life is the basis for their development in the following lives. Thus we see true individuality permeating many earthly lives as a spiritual unity. If we put the whole human individual together, we find that the physical and etheric bodies lie in the line of inheritance, but that the I and the astral body can be traced back to earlier earth lives and the spiritual. If we bring this before our spiritual eyes, it can give us a satisfactory explanation for the fact that the human being standing before us as a child appears to us as a combination of inheritance and embodiments.

How do we explain such phenomena of inheritance? We have to admit that the child was there long before the physical characteristics that can be inherited could be thought of. Just as there is attraction and repulsion in the physical life, there is this force between the sheaths given by man and woman.

A child is not drawn to every pair of parents, but to where it fits. Much finer characteristics than the face are inherited, but these are precisely what attract the individual. Man has not only the outer but also the inner physiognomy. The child must be driven by the bond of attraction to that embodiment which the outer instruments give to his talents. The incarnating human individuality chooses its parents. The organ of mathematical thinking is not the brain, but the three semicircular canals in the ear, which are perpendicular to each other in the three directions of space and which, when injured, impair the sense of orientation. Painting is based on the very specific structure of the eye.

There is no contradiction between heredity and re-embodiment. Men and women only inherit the physical. The child is born into a pair of parents, as it is born out of them. We see the plant absorbing the characteristic features of the soil. The child springs forth from the soil of its descent and displays everything that is in the father and mother. We also see the individual germinal, which is only sunk into this soil as a true individuality, which is a closed entity, going through various incarnations. We remember Schopenhauer: by man and woman seeking each other, the offspring are already at work.

He often had penetrating flashes of inspiration that are extremely apt, but which are only fully understood when illuminated by spiritual science. The will of the developing life already lies in the individuality of love between man and woman, and in the looks with which the lovers meet, lies the child striving into existence. But spiritual science only illuminates it in the right way. What do we see in the individuality, in the I and the astral body? What is it that plays a part in the love between man and woman, that constitutes the feeling of pleasure in each individual case? The reflex, the mirror image of the individuality that wants to enter into life. The descending individuality announces itself in feeling. The feeling of love is given to the child's individuality by father and mother.

Such things cannot be proved, but they are true for those who feel and see through to the truth. There is no proof for the law of reincarnation, it must be an experience of the inner life. In the feelings between man and woman we see the descending individuality flooding in. The child foreshadows the man and the woman. Love and desire are only emanations of the astral. The physical and etheric bodies of man and woman compose the child. The child stimulates the astral body between man and woman, and the result is the play of love sensations.

Now some may say: How can you come to terms with the actual mother and father feeling? They arise again in their child. The love that exists between parents and children appears in a higher splendor. From the child's side it played before conception. The child was drawn to its still spiritualized love, which played before the first atom of the physical came into being. The child loves the parents it seeks out, and its love casts a shadow into the act of love. Love appears to us even more refined, spiritualized.

When we look at things this way, the inheritance system becomes much more understandable. If there is feminine in the man and masculine in the woman, then we will understand that the qualities of the daughters come from the father and those of the sons from the mother. People who have a particularly strong soul often get it from their mother. We have four characteristics, from which a great combination of characteristics arises. We will not say such strange things: we need not be surprised that women now have these or those characteristics. These people always forget that women also had a father. It puts a spiritual and physical aspect in a completely different light. There must be an important consequence when we take this awareness into life. We will not only look at physical inheritance, but at individuality, which must be sacred to us, something we must redeem from its shells. Such an outlook will transform itself into a completely different and higher respect and appreciation of the enigmatic individuality, which is to be unravelled. We will not only learn to respect the freedom of adults, but also of children's individuality. Spiritual science leads us to feelings, sensations and practical creativity in the face of life's tasks. Spiritual science sees the creative spirit behind the physical, sees matter as the effect of past spirituality.

Spiritual science sees the spirit, which is still veiled, shaping itself into the future as its helper. Our knowledge leads us into the spiritual creation of the past. This leads us to an appreciation of the evolving entities. Only by respecting the freedom of the developing human being can we ensure human progress into the future. With many a sentence, Goethe captured the great circumstances that are repeated in everyday life. We look back into the past and see the creative spirit. The great yesterday of the world becomes apparent to us through knowledge, and in this way we attain respect and appreciation for the spirit that first wants to become.

If yesterday is clear and open to you,
you will be strong in today,
so you can hope for tomorrow,
which will be no less happy.

In the past I have spoken here on a variety of subjects concerning spiritual life. It may be permissible today, therefore, for me to touch upon a more prosaic theme from the standpoint of spiritual science. Problems of nutrition undoubtedly offer a more mundane subject than many we have heard here. It will be seen, however, that particularly in our age spiritual science has something to say even concerning questions that directly affect everyday life.

On the one hand, spiritual science stands accused, by those who know it only from the outside, of aspiring too loftily to spiritual realms, thus losing the firm ground under its feet. On the other hand, the opposite can perhaps also be heard again from those who have become acquainted with spiritual science or anthroposophy through only a single lecture or brochure. This consists in the statement that anthroposophists are entirely too concerned with, and talk too much about, questions of what they should eat and drink. In some respects these critics might well be called idealists in that they believe they view the common aspects of life from a certain exalted level. They raise this objection particularly by taking a stand that can be expressed in the following way. “What man eats and drinks is unimportant. It does not matter what food one takes, rather must one rise above the material dimension by the strength of one's spirit.” Even a well-intentioned idealist might level this objection against anthroposophists.

Well, at a time when these questions are being widely discussed from other angles, it might be interesting to hear what spiritual science has to say about them.

It was a German philosopher, Ludwig Andreas Feuerbach, to whom the phrase, “A man is what he eats,” is attributed. Many thinkers of consequence have agreed with Feuerbach that what man produces is basically the result of foods ingested by him and his actions are influenced by the food absorbed in a purely materialistic way through his digestion. With so much discussion of eating going on, somebody might get it into his head to believe that man is indeed physically nothing more than what he eats. Now, we shall have several things to say on this point.

We must understand each other precisely as to the purpose of today's lecture and the intention behind it. We are not agitating in favor of particular tendencies, nor are we trying to be reformative. The spiritual scientist is obliged to state the truth of things. His attitude must never be agitatorial, and he must be confident that when a person has perceived the truth of what he says, he will then proceed to do the right thing. What I have to say, therefore, does not recommend one course as opposed to another, and he who assumes that it does will misunderstand it completely. Merely the facts will be stated, and you will have understood me correctly if you realize that I am not speaking for or against anything.

Bearing this in mind, we can raise the question from the standpoint of spiritual science as to whether the statement, “A man is what he eats,” does not have a certain justification after all. We must continually bear in mind that the body of man is the tool of the spirit. In discussing the various functions the body has to perform, we see that man utilizes it as a physical instrument. An instrument is useless if it is not adjusted correctly so that it functions in an orderly manner, however, and similarly our bodies are of no use to our higher organism if they do not function properly. Our freedom can be handicapped and intentions impeded.

When we as spiritual scientists consider our organism, we can ask ourselves if we do not make our bodies unfit for the execution of the intentions, aspirations and impulses of our lives if we become bound by and dependent upon our bodies through an unsuitable diet. Is it not possible to mold the body in such fashion that it turns into a progressively more suitable instrument for the impulses of our spiritual life? Will we lose our freedom and become dependent upon our bodies if we ignore what is the right nourishment for us? What must we eat so that we are not merely the product of what we eat?

By asking such questions, we come to look at the problem of nutrition from another perspective. You all know, and I only need allude to this generally familiar fact, that speaking purely materialistically, people continuously use up the substances that their organisms store and they therefore must take care to replenish them with further nourishment. Men must concern themselves with replenishment. What, then, could be more obvious than to examine those substances that are necessary for the human organism, that is, to find out what substances build up the animalistic organism, and then simply see to it that the organism is given them. This approach, however, remains an extremely materialistic one. We must rather ask ourselves what the essential task of a man's food is and in what way it is actually utilized in his organism.

I must stress that what I say about man is applicable only to him, since spiritual science does not consider man to be so closely connected with the animals as does natural science. Otherwise, one could simply state that the human organism is composed of proteins, fats, carbohydrates and mineral substances, and consequently search for the best method to satisfy man's nutritional needs of them. But spiritual science holds to the principle that every material occurrence, everything that takes place in the physical sense world, is only the external aspect of spiritual processes. Indeed, even the nutritional processes cannot be purely physical, but as material processes they are really the external aspects and expressions of spiritual processes. Similarly, man is a unity even though the composition of his physical body appears to be a conglomeration of chemical events.

Our attention has frequently been focused on how the ascent from the purely physical to the spiritual realm can be made. We have often heard that the physical body is sustained by the etheric body. This is the architect of the physical body, which must not be viewed as if only chemical processes took place in it. We will be wrong if, by observing only the chemical processes, we simply ask in a materialistic fashion what happens to the chemical substances. Beyond the etheric body, we must remember, is the astral body. Through it are expressed the instinctive feelings and in certain respects the various aspects of the soul. When we behold man from the standpoint of spiritual science, we find that his etheric body as well as his physical body are inter-penetrated by his astral body. We must not see only one side but also perceive the astral body beyond the physical. Added to these is the ego, the fourth member of the human being. We have the total man before us only when we see in him this fourfold being. Only with the total fourfold man before us can we do justice to the scope of the problem of nutrition. Only then can answers be given to the question of how these four members of man's organism react to the influences of various diets.

Now, you all know that men eat food derived from the vegetable, animal and mineral kingdoms, and with it they sustain their bodies. Let me emphasizes again for the sake of those who are more narrowly inclined toward the care of the inner life that I am not speaking to mystics nor to anthroposophists who are striving to develop themselves spiritually in particular, but to all men. Men take their sustenance from the animal, vegetable and mineral kingdoms. We must realize that plants represent the direct antithesis of men, and the animals represent the mean between the two. The external physical expression of this contrast is to be found in the breathing process. It is a familiar fact that men inhale oxygen, assimilate it and subsequently combine it with carbon that is finally exhaled as carbon dioxide, while in plants, which absorb carbon to sustain themselves, the reverse is true. In a sense, plants also breathe but their breathing process has a completely different significance for them. Hence, we can say that in a spiritual respect plant and man stand opposite each other.

We can become even more aware of this relationship by bearing in mind the influence of light on plants. The effect of deprivation of light on plant life is well-known. The same light that maintains life in plants makes it possible for us to perceive the light-filled world of our surroundings. Light is also the element that maintains life in plants. This is physical light but it is also something more. Just as there is a spiritual counterpart to everything physical, so there is spiritual light in the physical light that rays down on us. Each time a man rejoices over the brilliance of physical light he can say to himself, “Just as when I see another person and it dawns on me that in this man there lives a spiritual counterpart, so also I can imagine that in light there lives a spiritual counterpart.” Indeed, the spiritual light that permeates the physical sunlight is of the same kind and being as the invisible light that dwells within the human astral body. A portion of the spiritual light that permeates the cosmic realm lives within the astral body. It is, however, physically invisible and in this it can be seen that it is the opposite or complement of physical light.

The invisible light lives within us and fulfills a definite task. We might say that since they are opposites, it is to physical light what negative magnetism is to positive magnetism. We perceive it in its external expression when we realize the relationships existing between physical body, etheric body and astral body, which, in turn, is permeated by the ego. It has often been explained that throughout life the etheric body fights against the deterioration of the physical body. Men as well as animals also possess an astral body and hence the inner light. Now, the function of this inner light is the opposite of that of external light. When external light shines on a plant, the plant builds up its living organism by producing proteins, carbohydrates, etc. Conversely, the task of inner light is to break down, and this process of disintegration is part of the activity of the astral body. There is indeed a continuous dissolution and destruction of the proteins and other substances that we consume so that these substances are utilized in a sense to direct counter-effects against what external light has built up. Without this activity of inner dissolution a man could not be an ego being, and it is only by virtue of his ego nature that he can have inner experiences. So, while the etheric body is concerned with the preservation of the physical body, the astral body takes care that the food a man consumes is constantly built up and again destroyed.

Without this process of disintegration within the physical body, the astral body, in which the ego is incorporated, could not live a full life within the material world. As we have seen, there is an alternating process obtaining between men and plants, that is, exhalation of carbon dioxide in men and absorption of carbon dioxide by plants; exhalation of oxygen by plants and inhalation of oxygen by men. These processes reach such extremes only between men and plants. Animals do not have individual egos as is the case with men, but they have collective group egos. Thus, the animals of a species have one common group ego that governs them from without. The significant difference between men and animals is found in the fact that the disintegration processes within animals are directed by an entity external to them, whereas the same processes in men are conducted by their individual inner egos. Moreover, a man's individual ego can gradually become master over what takes place within him.

Let us consider how the ego can gradually take a central position within the bodily functions. Let us examine what the astral body does when it dissolves the substances assimilated by men. In regard to nourishment an entirely different viewpoint must be stressed. The body permeated by the ego performs an action in disintegrating substances, and through this action something is created inwardly. The inner activity of consciousness particularly comes about through the astral body's processes of dissolution. Actions, activities are called forth by the process of destruction. First, inner warmth is produced and second, something that is less noticeable than inner body heat the physical expression of inner light. Just as the internal warmth that permeates the blood is the result of the dissolution of proteins, so the activity of the nervous system is the expression of this inner light. In regard to its inner activity the nervous system is also a result of the disintegration process not the nerves themselves but the activity of the nerves, the actions within the nerves, that which makes possible imagination and calls forth thinking. It is this activity that can be called the physical expression of the invisible light and that is brought about through the degeneration and dissolution of substances.

Basically, as has been said, inner body heat is generated by the disintegration of protein. Inner light is produced within the organism as a result of protein. Inner light is produced within the organism as a result of processes involving fats, carbohydrates, starches and glucose that are also utilized in the production of warmth and inner movement. In all this is contained the expression of the activity originating from the astral body. Men do not nourish themselves properly simply by ingesting the correct quantity of food, but rather when these inner processes can be carried out in the right way. The inner life is founded on them. Men are beings continually occupied inwardly with movement and liveliness and their inner life consists of these. If this inner life is not produced in the right way, it cannot react properly and a man then becomes ill.

The right kind of inner flexibility offers the foundation for the right solution of the nutritional problem. This statement points to the fact that all internal processes that men must execute must be carried on in the opposite direction from the processes of plants. A man must begin his processes where the plant processes leave off. A specific example will clarify what this means. When a man eats vegetarian food, it demands a great deal of his organism. Plant food does not combine much fat. The human organism, which is able to produce fats, is thus required to produce fat from something that in itself contains no fat. In other words, when a man eats vegetarian food, he must produce an activity within himself and make an inner effort to bring about the production of fats. He is spared this task when he eats ready-made animal fats. The materialists would probably say that it is advantageous for a man to store up as much fat as possible without having to make too much of an effort. Yet, speaking from the spiritual viewpoint, the unfolding of this inner activity signifies the unfolding of the actual inner life. When a man is forced to produce the forces that make it possible for him to produce fat on his own, then, through his inner flexibility, the ego and the astral body become master of the physical and etheric bodies. When a man eats fat, he resultingly is spared the task of producing fat himself. Yet, if he takes the opportunity to unfold his own inner activity through producing his own fat, he is made free and thus becomes lord over his body. Otherwise, as a spiritual being he remains a mere spectator. Everything that takes place in him in such wise that he remains a passive spectator becomes a heavy weight in him and hinders his urge to let the astral body come to full life. Thus, the astral body's inner flexibility comes up against an internal obstacle if it is denied the opportunity to produce its own fat.

The essential question now to be asked is what internal activities are aroused by what substances. Here we shall try to throw light on the relationships of vegetable and meat substances in human diets, and thereby to gain some idea of the manner in which animal and vegetable foods react in the human organism.

For a man to eat animal protein is not the same as for him to eat plant protein. Up to a certain point the inner processes of the animal are quite similar to those of the human organism, since the animal also possesses an astral body. Even though the animal astral body causes the dissolution of the synthesized substances of its physical body the human organism carries the processes a bit beyond the limits reached by that of the animals.

In reflecting upon the animals around us and by looking spiritually into their ways and characteristics, we shall, by comparing men with the multitudes of animals, find distributed among the animals the various and manifold characteristics of men. In spite of the fact that one can point out great human differences between the various peoples, one must still conclude that each individual man represents a species. Men appear to be the spiritual consolidation of all that can be observed distributed in the various animals forms. If one were to picture all the individual characteristics of the various animal species as being mutually complementary, one would arrive at the essence of what is contained in appropriate moderation in each individual man. Each individual animal one-sidedly contains within itself something of the forces that are harmonized within men, and its whole organism is constructed accordingly. Everything down to the most minute structure of substances is so organized in the animal kingdom that it is like a tableau of human characteristics spread out before one.

If a man is to find the physical expression of the characteristics of his astral body, he must strive to utilize all its forces. He must become master of his own inner processes and activate his astral body in such wise that the plant processes will be continued inwardly. In the food we consume from the animal kingdom, we not only take into ourselves the physical meat and fat of the animal but also the product of its astral body contained in these substances. When, through a vegetarian diet, we enlist the virginal forces of our astral body, we call forth our whole inner activity. In a meat diet part of this inner activity is forestalled.

We can now proceed to consider the relationships of these two types of diet from a purely spiritual basis.

If a man desires to gain an increasing mastery over the inner processes of his body, it is important that he become correspondingly active in the external world. It is important for him to unfold certain external qualities such as stamina, courage and even aggressiveness. To be able to do [so], however, it is possible that a man may not yet find himself strong enough to entrust everything to his astral body and may have to fall back upon the support of a meat diet.

It can be said that man owes everything that liberates him internally to the substances derived from plants. Faculties, however, that enable him to be actively engaged in earthly life, need not necessarily grow out of the virginal nature of his astral body. These qualities can also be derived from a meat diet. This fact that men are to become progressively freer while at the same time needing qualities that they can acquire with the help of impulses found spread out in the animal kingdom, has induced them to resort to nourishment in animal food. If the eating habits of the people of those militant nations that have striven to develop qualities enabling them to unfold their physical forces are investigated, it will generally be found that they eat meat. Naturally, there are exceptions. On the other hand, a preference for an exclusively vegetarian diet will be found to prevail among people who have developed an introverted and contemplative existence. These two aspects of the problem should be kept in mind. A person, of course, can adopt either diet as a panacea if he wishes to propagandize rather than to act out of knowledge. Nevertheless, it is not without reason that a mixed diet has become acceptable to many people. To some extent it had to happen. We must admit, however, that even though a vegetarian diet might indeed be the correct one for some people purely for reasons of health, the health of others might be ruined by it.

I am speaking here of human nature in general, of course, but men must be considered as individuals if they are to find the right path to satisfy their needs with a vegetable or meat diet. Today, an extreme diet of meat naturally brings its corresponding results. If by eating meat a person is relieved of too large a portion of his inner activities, then activities will develop inwardly that would otherwise be expressed externally. His soul will become more externally oriented, more susceptible to, and bound up with, the external world. When a person takes his nourishment from the realm of plants, however, he becomes more independent and more inclined to develop inwardly. He will become master over his whole being. The more he is inclined to vegetarianism, the more he accepts a vegetarian diet, the more he will be able also to let his inner forces predominate. Thus, the more apt he will be to develop a sense for wider horizons and he will no longer restrict himself to a narrow life. The person who is fundamentally a meat eater, however, limits himself to more narrow vistas and directs himself more rigidly toward one- sidedness.

Naturally, it is the task of men today to concern themselves with both aspects so as not to become impractical. A man also can be so completely unprejudiced as to have no judgment at all. Still, it is a fact that everything that limits men and leads them to specialization is derived from a diet of meat. A man owes to a vegetarian diet the impulses that lift him above the narrow circles of existence. An extreme diet of meat is definitely connected with a man's increasing dogmatism and his inability to see beyond the confines into which he was born. In contrast, if men would show more interest in the food coming from the realm of plants, they would discover that they are able more easily to lift themselves out of their narrow circles. The person who abandons the task of fat formation by eating meat will notice that the activity thus forestalled erects a sort of wall around his astral body. Even if one is not clairvoyant but judges these matters only with common sense, he can tell from the look in a person's eyes whether or not he produces his own fat. It can be seen in the eyes of a person whether or not his astral body is obliged to call forth the forces necessary to produce its own fat.

Now it can be seen how two opposing conditions of character are created when a person takes his nourishment from either the plants or animals. We find that we indeed penetrate into the world through our organism and must again rise above it by means of the right kind of food. A time will come when a vegetarian diet will be valued much more highly than is the case today. Then thinking will be so flexible that men will be willing to investigate such matters knowing that what they believe today to be foolishness could, viewed from another standpoint, also have its merits. They will realize then that their whole physical and spiritual horizon can be widened through a vegetarian diet, thus counteracting the rigor of specialization within them. Particularly in certain areas of science would perspectives be widened if vegetarian diets should become prevalent.

Let me mention a few more examples to demonstrate that men are indeed what they eat and drink.

Consider, for example, alcohol, which is obtained from plants. It would take too long to explain the spiritual scientific reason showing that alcohol produces physically and in an external way out of the plant, just what a man should develop physically within himself through his ego being centered within him. It is a fact inwardly perceived through spiritual science that when a person drinks alcohol, it takes over the specific activity that otherwise belongs wholly to the person's ego. A person who drinks much alcohol needs less food and his body will require less nourishment than is normally required in the process of combustion.

It calls forth forces that otherwise would be called forth by the ego's inner penetration. Thus, a person can externalize the activity of his ego by infusing his body with alcohol. Consequently, alcohol imitates and copies the activity of the ego, and you can understand why it is that people turn to it. To the extent, however, that a man replaces his inner self with such a substitute, to that extent does he become its slave. If otherwise qualified, a man will be better able to unfold the best forces of his ego when he abstains from alcohol altogether. By drinking alcohol an inner hindrance is created behind which something takes place that actually should and would be accomplished through the activity of the ego itself if the hindrance had not been produced.

Some foods have a specific effect of their own on the organism. Coffee is an example. The effect of coffee becomes manifest through its influence on the astral body. Through caffeine and the after-effects of coffee, our nervous systems automatically perform functions that we otherwise would have to produce through inner strength. It should not be claimed, however, that it is beneficial under all circumstances for a man always to act independently out of his astral body. Men are beings who are not dependent on themselves alone. Rather are they placed within the whole of life.

Coffee is also a product of the plant kingdom that externally has raised the specific plant process up a stage. Consequently, coffee can take over a certain task of man. Trained insight perceives that everything in the activity of our nerves that has to do with logical consistency and drawing conclusions is strengthened by coffee. Thus, we can let coffee take over in making logical connections and in sticking to one thought, but this, of course, is in exchange for a weakening of our specific inner forces. What I mean can be seen in the tendency of gossips at a coffee break to cling to a subject until it is completely exhausted. This is not only a joke. It also demonstrates the effects of coffee.

Tea works in a totally different and opposite way. When large quantities are drunk, thoughts become scattered and light. It might be said that the chief effect of tea is to let witty and brilliant thoughts, thoughts that have a certain individual lightness, flash forth. So we can say, coffee helps those, such as literary people, who need to connect thoughts in skilled and refined ways. This is the positive aspect of the matter. The negative aspect can be observed in coffee table gossip. Tea, which tears thoughts asunder, is the opposite. This is why tea is not without justification a popular drink of diplomats.

It might be of interest to cite as a last example a food that plays an important part in life, that is, milk. Milk is completely different from meat in that it expresses in the weakest possible form the animalistic process brought forth by the astral body of the animal. Milk is only partly an animal product and the animal or human astral forces do not participate in its production. For this reason milk is one of the most perfect foods. It is suitable for people who want to abstain completely from meat but who do not yet possess sufficient strength to work entirely out of the inner forces of the astral body. Even from a purely external standpoint it can be seen that milk contains everything a man requires for his organism. Although this applies only in a restricted sense, it has little to do with the individual characteristics of a man.

Weak as well as strong organisms can gain support from milk. If a person were to live exclusively on milk for a time, then not only would his regular forces be awakened but it would also go beyond this. He would receive from it an influx of forces giving him additional strength. A surplus of forces would be acquired that could be developed into healing forces. In order to possess a force, it must first be acquired, and in milk we see one means of developing certain forces in ourselves. Those who are moved by the earnestness of life to develop certain psychic healing forces, can train themselves to attain them. Naturally, we must remember that what is suitable for one, is not suitable for all. This is a matter for the individual. One person is able to do it, another not. A man can if he wishes build up his organism in a wise manner. He can contribute toward the unfolding of free, independent inner forces. So through spiritual science we come back to the saying of Feuerbach mentioned at the beginning, “Man is what he eats!”

Man can nourish himself in such fashion that he undermines his invisible independence. In so doing he makes himself an expression of what he eats. Yet he ought to nourish himself in such a manner that he becomes less the slave of his nutritional habits. Here spiritual science can direct him.

The wrong food can easily transform us into what we eat, but by permeating ourselves with knowledge of the spiritual life, we can strive to become free and independent. Then the food we eat will not hinder us from achieving the full potential of what we, as men, ought to be.

Dear attendees, It is a frequently repeated and justified view that the greatest mystery of man here within our physical life is man himself. And we may say that a large part of our scientific activity, our reflection and other human musings are devoted to solving this human mystery, to discerning a little of what the essence of human nature consists of.

Natural science and, as we have already seen in these lectures, spiritual science, too, approach the solution of this great mystery from different sides. But usually, when we speak of this human puzzle, we have in mind the human being in general, the human being without distinction in relation to this or that individuality. But there is another human puzzle; we can say there are many, many other human puzzles. For, apart from the fact that man in general is a great mystery to man, does not every single individual human being we meet appear to us to be a mystery in turn? How difficult it is to get a clear idea of the different sides of the people we meet, and how much depends on it in life to get a clear idea of the people we come into contact with!

Now we can only gradually approach the solution of the very individual human riddle, of which each person presents us with a particular one, because there is a great gap between what is called human nature in general and what we encounter in each individual person. And in this gap we also see some things that entire groups of people have in common. These similarities include those characteristics of human nature that we are considering today, which are usually referred to as a person's temperament. It is true that each person has their own temperament, but we can still distinguish certain groups of temperaments.

We speak of four human temperaments: sanguine, choleric, phlegmatic, and melancholic. And even if the classification is not entirely correct insofar as we apply it to the individual, we still want to divide people into four groups according to their temperaments in general. The fact that a person's temperament, on the one hand, manifests itself as something individual, as something that makes people different, and, on the other hand, unites them into groups, proves to us that temperament must be something that, on the one hand, has something to do with the innermost core of a person's being and, on the other hand, must be connected to general human nature. A person's temperament is something that points in two directions. And so it will be necessary, if we want to get behind the secret, to ask ourselves on the one hand: To what extent does temperament point to what lies in general human nature? - and then again: How does it point to the human core of being, to the actual inner being of the human being?

When we ask the question, it is natural that spiritual science seems to be called upon to provide insight. For spiritual science must lead us to the innermost core of a person's being. In so far as a person encounters us on earth, he appears to us as being placed in a generality and again as an independent entity. There are two lines that meet when a person enters into earthly existence. And here we are in the middle of the spiritual scientific consideration of human nature. We see the descendant of his father and mother, his previous ancestors and further and further; the human being is embedded in what can be called the line of inheritance, and you know that far into the core of his being, the human being carries qualities in himself that we must certainly derive from heredity. Goethe also said of himself:

From my father I have the stature,
the serious conduct of life,
from my mother the cheerful nature
and the desire to tell stories.

We see how this great connoisseur of human nature, Goethe, has to refer to a person's moral qualities when he wants to point out inherited traits. This is what our own nature consists of. This is the other current in which human beings are placed, of which today's culture is not very aware. Spiritual science shows us what flows together with what is given to us in the line of inheritance; it leads us to the great fact of so-called re-embodiment — reincarnation — and of karma. It shows us how the innermost core of a person's being connects with something that is given by the line of inheritance. For the spiritual scientist, this core of being is enveloped in outer shells by what comes from the line of inheritance. And just as we have to go back to our father and mother for the qualities of a person that belong to their appearance, so if we want to grasp a person's innermost being, we have to go back to something completely different, to a previous life of that person.

Every person, when they enter physical life, has a series of lives behind them. And this has nothing to do with what lies in the line of inheritance. We would have to go back more than centuries if we wanted to examine what their previous life was when they passed through the gateway of death. After passing through, they live in other forms of existence in the spiritual world. And when the time comes again to live a life in the physical world, he seeks out his parents. And every person brings with them certain qualities from their previous life. To a certain extent, people bring with them certain qualities, their destinies. After they have performed this or that act, they bring about the counter-effect and thus feel surrounded by new life. Thus, from previous embodiments, he brings with him an inner core of being and envelops it with what is given to him by inheritance.

This one should be mentioned because it is important, since in fact our present time has little inclination to recognize this inner core of being, to regard the idea of re-embodiment as something other than a fantastic thought. It must slowly become part of human culture, similar to the teaching of the great scholar Redi, who, contrary to the then prevailing theory that fish arise from river mud, proved that living things can only arise from living things. And today, in a similar way, it is said that what is in a person all arises through inheritance.

The spiritual scientist can also point to this fact, and it has been pointed out. For example, in families of musicians, a talent for music is inherited, and so on, all of which is supposed to support the line of inheritance. It is also said, pointing to genius, that rarely does genius show itself at the beginning of a generation, but only at the end. In the case of the peculiar abilities of genius, one goes back, picks out here and there, finds this quality in one and that in another, and so on, and then shows how they finally converge in the genius who has emerged at the end of the generation. What is it supposed to prove? But nothing other than that the essence of man can live according to the instrument of the body. It is no more ingenious than when someone wants to draw our particular attention to the fact that when a person falls into water, he gets wet. This is only natural, that he takes it from the element into which he is placed. What is to be adduced as proof could much more easily be adduced as proof that genius is not inherited. For if genius were inherited, it would have to show itself at the beginning of the generation, and then it would be possible to prove that genius is inherited, but not at the end of the generation.

Thus, in the person who appears before us in the world, we see the confluence of two currents. On the one hand, we see what he receives from his family; on the other hand, we see what develops from the innermost being of the human being: a number of talents, qualities, inner abilities and outer destiny. These two currents flow together; every human being is composed of these two currents. Thus we find that, on the one hand, man must adapt to his innermost being and, on the other hand, to what he brings with him from his family line. We see how man bears the physiognomy of his ancestors to a high degree; we could, so to speak, compose man from the result of his ancestral line.

Since the human core of being has nothing to do with what is inherited, but must adapt only to what is most suitable for it, we will also realize that it is necessary for what may have lived for centuries in a completely different world and is transferred again into another world, that there must be a certain mediation; that the essence of man must have something related to it, that there must be an intermediate link, a bond between one's own individual human being and the general into which he is born through family and race. That which transmits on the one hand all the inner qualities that he brings with him from his previous incarnation and that which the line of inheritance brings him falls under the concept of temperament. It now stands between the inherited qualities and what he has taken up in his inner core of being. It is as if, when this core of being descends, it is surrounded by a spiritual nuance of what awaits it down there, so that the more the core of being adapts to the human being's shell, the more the human being's core of being is colored by what he is born into and by a quality that he brings with him.

Thus, when we look at the complete human being, we can say: This complete human being consists of the physical, etheric, and astral bodies and the I. What is initially the physical body, what the human being carries in such a way that it is visible to the senses, carries the signs of heredity clearly at first, from the outside. What lives in the etheric body of the human being, in that fighter against the decay of the physical body, is also what lies in the line of inheritance. Then we come to the astral body, which is much more bound to the essence of the human being in its properties. And if we go to the innermost core of the human being, to the actual I, we find what goes from embodiment to embodiment, appears as an inner mediator that radiates its essential qualities outwards. The fact that they have to connect means that they adapt when the person enters the physical world.

Through this interaction of the astral body and the ego, of the physical and etheric bodies, through this interweaving of the two currents, temperaments arise in human nature. They must therefore be something that depends on the individuality of the person, on that which is incorporated into the general line of inheritance. If man were not able to shape his inner being in this way, then every descendant would have to be only the result of his ancestors. And what is shaped into it, what makes it individual, that is the power of temperament; this is where the secret of temperaments lies.

Now, in all human nature, all the individual elements of being interact with each other again; they are in a reciprocal relationship. When the core of our being has colored the physical and etheric bodies, then what has been created through this coloring will have an effect on every other limb, so that it depends on how the person with his or her characteristics comes to us, whether the core of our being has a stronger effect on the physical body or whether the physical body has a stronger effect. Depending on the person, they can influence one of the four limbs, and the effect on the other limbs creates the temperament. When the human core of being embarks on re-embodiment, it is capable, through this peculiarity, of incorporating a certain excess of activity into one or other of its essential limbs. In this way, he can incorporate a certain excess of strength into his ego, or, having gone through certain experiences in his earlier life, he can influence his other limbs with it.

When the human ego has become so strong through its destinies that its powers are excellently dominant in the fourfold human nature, then the choleric temperament arises. If he succumbs to the influence of the astral body, then the sanguine temperament arises. If the etheric body has an excessive influence on the other limbs, then the phlegmatic nature arises. If the physical body has such an influence on the other limbs that the core of the being was unable to overcome certain hardships in the physical body, then the melancholic nature prevails.

Thus we have a large part of the physical body as the direct expression of the physical life principle of the human being. We can see the glandular system as the physical expression of the etheric body; the nervous system, and specifically that which is active there, we can see as the physical expression of the astral body, and the pulsating power of the blood is the expression of the actual I. Therefore, that which characterizes the I becomes active as the predominant quality. The choleric temperament will show itself as active in a strongly pulsating blood; in this way, the element of force in the human being comes to expression through the fact that it has a particular influence on his blood. In a person like this, in whom the I is active spiritually and the blood is active physically, we see the innermost strength maintaining the organization firmly and strongly. And as he encounters the outer world, so his power of the I will want to assert itself. That is the consequence of this I.

If the astral body predominates in a person, then the physical expression will lie in the functions of the nervous system, and what the astral body accomplishes is life in thoughts, in images, so that a person, if endowed with the sanguine temperament, will have the disposition to live in the images of his mental life. We must be clear about the relationship between the astral body and the ego. If only the sanguine temperament were present, a chaos of images would rise and fall. It is the forces of the ego that prevent the images from being mixed up in a fantastic way. And in the physical, it is the blood that essentially, so to speak, delimits the activity of the nervous system.

It would take us too far afield to show you all the details of how the nervous system and blood relate to each other and how the blood is the restrainer of this imaginative life. If a person's blood becomes too thin, with anemia, then fantastic images arise, including illusions and hallucinations, if the blood is not the restrainer of the nervous system. If the astral body has a certain excess of activity, then human life takes on such a form that the person cannot hold on to an idea, and the consequence of this is that such a person can be inflamed by everything that comes his way in the outer world, but that the rein is not applied to do it inwardly continuously; the interest that has been kindled quickly fades away. We see the sanguine person hurrying from one performance to the next, how he shows a flighty mind.

If a person has a predominant etheric body and the expression of this etheric body, the system that makes up the comfort and discomfort in the person, then the person will be led to want to remain comfortably in his or her inner self. The more comfortable a person feels within, the more he will create harmony between the inner and outer self. When this is the case, when it is even taken care of in abundance, then a person's entire striving is directed towards the inner self, we are dealing with the phlegmatic type.

And if a person has an especially active physical system, it is a sign that the inner man is powerless against his physical system. Thus the physical system, which is hardened, fails when it is in excess. Man cannot make that which he should make flexible; he feels inner obstacles. They become apparent in that man must turn his strength to these inner hindrances. What one cannot overcome is what causes suffering and pain; they cause man to be unable to look impartially at the world around him. This sense of dependence is a source of inner sorrow. Certain thoughts and ideas begin to become permanent; he begins to become brooding and melancholy.

And if we understand temperament through the prism of a healthy nature, many things in life will become clear to us; but it will also become possible for us to apply these principles in a practical way, which we would otherwise not be able to do. Let us turn our attention to many of the things that directly confront us in life! Take, for example, the choleric person, who has a strong, firm center within. This I is the bridler. Those images are images of consciousness. The physical body is shaped according to its etheric body, the etheric body according to its astral body. It would shape the human being in the most diverse ways, so to speak; by the fact that the growth of the I is counteracted in its blood forces, balance is maintained between an abundance and diversity of growth. But if the I has a surplus, it can hold back growth. As a rule, choleric people show themselves to be like this, that they appear to have restrained growth. You can find examples in life, for example, in the intellectual history of the philosopher Fichte. In his outward appearance, he was what one may call a person of restrained growth; there were forces in him that were held back by the surplus of the I. Take a look at the choleric person! This is a typical example of the restrained growth of the choleric person. Here you can see how the power of the I, originating from the spirit, works so that the innermost being of the person manifests itself in the outer form. Look at the physiognomy of the choleric person! Take the phlegmatic person in contrast. How blurred his features are! You can hardly say that the shape of his forehead is adapted to the choleric person!

There is one organ in particular where the astral body or the ego has a formative effect: the eye, and in particular the firm, secure position of the choleric person's eye. In the choleric person you will find a black, coal-black eye, because by a certain law, the choleric person draws exactly that to the inside, because he does not leave the possibility to the astral body to color that which is colored in another person. Also observe the person in his entire behavior. The one who is well-versed can almost tell from a distance whether a person is a choleric. The firm step, so to speak, announces the choleric. The whole person is an expression of this innermost nature, which reveals itself to us in such a way.

Take the sanguine type! The sanguine temperament is particularly evident in childhood. See how the pictorial quality manifests itself! And in the same way, the sanguine child has a certain inner potential to change his physiognomy, while the traits of the choleric person are sharply defined. A blue eye is very often the expression of a sanguine temperament.

And now let us move on! When we approach the phlegmatic type, we can tell from his shaky gait that he has little control over the forms of his inner life. This can be seen in the whole person. The melancholic soon reveals himself to you through his bowed head and downcast eyes. It shows that something is being restricted.

All this can only be hinted at here; but it will make human life much, much more understandable if we can thus observe the spirit within the forms, how the exterior of a person can become an expression of his inner being. Do we not see how everything great in life can be brought about precisely through the one-sidedness of temperaments, how these can degenerate into one-sidedness; does the child not worry us because we see that the choleric can degenerate into malice, the sanguine into flightiness, the melancholic into gloom, etc.? Is not knowledge and assessment of temperament of particular value to the educator, especially in the matter of education and self-education?

We must not be tempted to underestimate the value of temperament because it is a one-sided quality. We must be clear that temperament leads to one-sidedness, that the most radical thing about the melancholic temperament is madness, about the phlegmatic temperament, imbecility; about the sanguine temperament, insanity; and about the choleric temperament, all those outbursts of pathological human nature that go as far as raving madness and so on. Temperament brings about much beautiful diversity because opposites attract; however, the idolization of the one-sidedness of temperament very easily causes harm between birth and death. It is important for the educator to be able to say: What do you do, for example, with a sanguine child? One must try to learn from the knowledge of the whole essence of the sanguine temperament how to behave. If we are to speak of the education of the child in relation to other aspects, then it is also necessary to speak individually of temperament in the education of the child.

We have a child of sanguine temperament before us, who could easily degenerate into flight mania, lack of interest in important things, and on the other hand quickly become interested in other things; this can lead to the most terrible one-sidedness and one can recognize the danger by looking into the depths of human nature; then one will say to oneself: By trying to teach this child some opposite quality right away, you do not change these qualities. You have to be considerate of these things, which are rooted in the innermost nature of the human being, so that you can only bend them. In the case of a sanguine temperament that has become one-sided, one must build on his sanguine temperament. If you want to behave correctly towards this child, then you have to pay attention, because no matter how sanguine the child is, you can still find something that this child is interested in. And what you find that the child is particularly interested in must be considered. And for the child, something that he does not pass by with flightiness, you have to try to present it to him as a special fact, so that his temperament extends to what is not indifferent to him; you have to try to present what is a hobby for him in a special light, he has to learn to apply his sanguine nature. You can work by connecting with the one thing that can always be found, the child's own strengths. It will not be able to take a lasting interest in anything through punishment and persuasion. But when interest is kindled in him, love for a person, then a miracle happens through this love for the person. This can cure a one-sided temperament in the child. The child must develop personal attachment; you have to make yourself lovable to the child. That is the task when dealing with a sanguine child. It is up to the person educating the child to help the sanguine child learn to love the personality.

Let us assume that the person should be horrified that the choleric temperament is expressed in a one-sided way in their child. However, the same recipe cannot be used as for the sanguine child, because the choleric person will not easily develop love for the personality of the person. A different approach is needed to connect with him on a human level. You have to be truly estimable, honorable in the highest sense of the word for the choleric child. You have to strive to never let the choleric child realize that he cannot get any information or advice on what he should do. You have to make sure that you hold the firm reins of authority in your hands and never expose yourself to the point of not knowing what to do. Then it is necessary, when the choleric child threatens to degenerate into one-sidedness, to bring him into education, especially the things that are difficult to overcome, by drawing his attention to the difficulties of life by bringing in things that are as difficult as possible for the child to overcome. Obstacles must be created so that the choleric temperament is not driven back, but allowed to express itself, by confronting the child with certain difficulties that he has to overcome.

With a phlegmatic child, we will have a difficult time if education has given us the task of interacting with the child in the appropriate way. It is difficult to gain influence over the phlegmatic person, but there is a way to create a detour. There is nothing that can be said to a phlegmatic child; you have to bring this child into contact with children of the same age. Just as the sanguine child needs to be attached to one personality, so the phlegmatic child needs to have friendship and contact with as many children of the same age as possible. This is the only way to awaken the power that lies dormant in him. You will not be able to interest the phlegmatic child in an object from school or home, but you can reach him indirectly through the other souls of the same age.

It is also very difficult to treat the melancholic child. What can we do? And what if we feel horror at the threatening one-sidedness of the melancholic temperament of the child, since we cannot graft in what the child does not have? We have to expect that it has the strength to cling to inhibitions and to resist. If we want to steer this peculiarity of its temperament in the right direction, we have to divert this strength from the inner to the outer. It is particularly important for the educator of a melancholic child to place emphasis on how one deals with the child, to show him that there is suffering in the world. The melancholic child is capable of feeling pain; if you want to amuse him, then drive him back into his own narrowness. Distract the child by showing him that there is suffering! The melancholic is happiest when he can grow up at the side of someone who, through difficult experiences, has a lot to say, because soul works with soul in the happiest way. In general, it is good not to try to heal the young melancholic by bringing entertaining company into his environment, but to let him experience justified pain.

So we may say: the sanguine person is best off when he grows up in a firm hand, when a person from outside can show him sides of character that allow him to develop personal love; love for a person is best for the sanguine person. Not just love, but respect and appreciation for what a person can achieve, that is best for the choleric person.

A melancholic can count themselves lucky if they can grow up under the wing of someone who has a difficult fate. The appropriate distance, which is created by the new way of looking at things, by the compassion that arises with authority, in the empathy for the justified painful fate, is what the melancholic needs. They grow up well if they can indulge less in attachment to a person, less in respect and appreciation of a person's achievements, and more in compassion for suffering and justified painful fates.

The phlegmatic person is the easiest to get along with if we can teach them to take an interest in the interests of others, if they can be inspired by the interests of others.

The sanguine person should be able to develop love and affection.

The choleric person should be able to develop appreciation and respect for the achievements of the person.

The melancholic should be able to develop a compassionate heart for the fate of others.

And the phlegmatic should be shown the interests of others as a role model.

And when it comes to taking our self-education into our own hands, they can also be particularly useful. We realize with our mind that our sanguinity is playing all kinds of tricks on us, that we are in danger of degenerating into an unstable way of life, rushing from object to object. This can be counteracted if we only take the right approach. No matter how often a person speaks to his conscience, hold on to something for once, his sanguine temperament will play evil tricks on him over and over again. He can only count on one strength that he has. There must be other forces behind the intellect. Can a sanguine person count on anything other than his sanguine temperament? And even in self-education, it is necessary to try to do what the intellect could do indirectly. You have to try not to be interested in certain things that you are interested in. You try to artificially put yourself in such a situation, to bring as much as possible that does not interest you into your path. Then you will realize, if you do it long enough, that this temperament develops the strength to change.

If you realize that melancholy can drive you to one-sidedness, you have to try to create justified external obstacles and want to see through these justified external obstacles in their entirety, so that you deflect what you have in terms of pain and capacity for pain onto external objects. The mind can do that.

In the same way, the choleric person can cure themselves in a special way if we look at it from a spiritual scientific point of view. When he notices that his raging inner self wants to express itself, he must try to find things that require little energy to overcome; he must try to bring about easily surmountable external facts and must always try to express his energy in the strongest way possible in insignificant events and facts. If he seeks out such insignificant things that offer him no resistance, then he will in turn bring his one-sided choleric temperament in the right direction.

The phlegmatic person would do well to imagine that he must be interested in something, that he must seek out objects that have a right to it, that man does not care about them. He should seek out activities in which phlegm is justified, in which he can live out his phlegm. In this way he overcomes his phlegm, even if it threatens to degenerate into one-sidedness.

Those who are realists believe, for example, that it is best for a melancholic to be provided with what one has to provide in the opposite way. But anyone who really thinks realistically appeals to what is already within him.

Thus you see that it is precisely spiritual science that does not draw us away from real and actual life, but will shine forth for us at every turn to the truths and can also give us guidance in life to take account of the real everywhere. For those who believe that they can cling to the outer appearance of things are the fantasists. We must seek deeper causes if we want to enter into this reality, and we will acquire an understanding of the manifoldness of life if we engage in such considerations. Our practical sense will become more and more individualized if we are not obliged to apply a general recipe – you should not drive out levity with severity – but to see: what qualities are there in man that need to be kindled? And we must go to the individuality.

And there we can also let spiritual science work from our innermost core of being, make spiritual science the greatest impulse of life. As long as it remains only theory, it is worth nothing. It is to be applied in the life of man. The way to do this is possible, but it is a long one. It is illuminated when it leads to reality. Then our views change and we notice it, insights change. It is prejudice when man believes that knowledge must remain abstract; but when it enters into the spiritual, then it permeates our whole life's work, then our whole life is permeated by it, then we face life in such a way that we have knowledge for the individuality, which goes right into feeling and sensation and is expressed in them, which has great respect and esteem. It is easy to recognize templates. And it is easy to want to control life according to templates, but it cannot be treated as a template. Then only knowledge is enough, then it transforms into a feeling that one must have towards the individuality of the human being, towards the individuality in all of life. Then, so to speak, our conscientious spiritual knowledge will flow into our feeling in such a way that we can judge the riddle that confronts us in every single person to the right extent.

But this is the right foundation that can provide the true, the fruitful, the genuine love of humanity. This is the foundation on which we become aware of what we have to seek as the innermost core of being in each individual person. And when we are imbued with this spiritual knowledge, our social life will be regulated from person to person in such a way that each individual, by approaching every other person with appreciation and respect and by penetrating the mystery of the human being, will learn to find and regulate their behavior towards other people. Only those who live in abstractions from the outset can speak of sober concepts, but those who strive for genuine knowledge will find it and will find the way to the other person; they will find the solution to the riddle of the other person in their own behavior, in their own conduct. In this way we solve the individual puzzle of how we relate to others. We can only find the essence of the other person with a view of life that comes from the spirit. Spiritual science should be a way of life, a spiritual factor in life, all practice, all life, and not a gray theory.

Answering questions [excerpts]

Question: There are also people in whom no temperament comes to the fore. What prevails in such a person?

Answer: That is correct. There are people in whom, so to speak, a particular shade of temperament does not emerge to any great extent. However, the keen observer will be able to find out that a temperament is present in a certain respect. We must realize that when such a theme is developed, not everything can be said in any detail. If one wanted to explain certain phenomena that occur in life, I would also have to explain the individual complicated temperaments to you, and show how certain characteristics of one of his limbs stand out in every person, so they have a prominent temperament. But it is also possible that another aspect of the human being can have an effect on other aspects of the person. Thus, anyone studying the temperament of Napoleon could find that he must have been very phlegmatic in relation to certain things, so that we have to say: nuances of the four temperaments will be found in every person, and what stands out is precisely what comes from a particular surplus.

When it is said of the astral body that it functions in excess – this is not the same as saying that it functions in such a way that it exercises an absolute domination over the others – it means that it functions in this person more than its normal level of functioning. It is possible that the astral body is working in excess, that it cannot find its way into the right harmony, and the same applies to the physical body. Then the surpluses can neutralize each other, and something like an absolute lack of temperament can occur. This is based on the fact that things that are present from one side or the other balance each other out. With a good power of observation of the soul, one will always be able to observe a prominent temperament in a person.

Question: Which temperament does a gray eye indicate?

Answer: I have to appeal to your good nature a little. It cannot be discussed here in such detail; it would take many hours. I can only answer without being able to tell you the derivation. Therefore, I would like to say: when asking about the correspondence of a gray eye to temperament, you have to take into account that the gray eye usually has a certain nuance according to one color or another. There is a gray-greenish, a gray-brownish, and a gray-bluish eye. As a rule, gray-bluish eyes may indicate a melancholic temperament, and gray-greenish eyes may indicate a phlegmatic temperament. However, this should not be stereotyped.

The word health means something very precious to every human being, and rightly so. Not only must we recognize health itself as a precious thing, which is only a product of selfish sentiment, but we also feel that health is connected to something that flows from the depths of our inner being. Health is a means to external vitality, to the fulfillment of our duties, to the performance of every activity, etc. And from this point of view, health must be placed at the center as something of the highest value. However, when we consider what health is, we arrive at a gloomy judgment when we look around the world and see how health and illness are judged by the competent and the incompetent in the most diverse ways, how all kinds of shades of parties are spoken of, and how the healing process of this or that is disputed. When we consider all this, it does indeed seem that one of our most precious possessions is at the mercy of all these different schools of thought.

Before I try to tell you what spiritual science has to say about health, we must first be clear that spiritual science or theosophy cannot have the task of interfering in this or that party line; the point of view must be gained that neither approves nor condemns this or that world view. What is said here will not fully satisfy the adherents of either party, for in the case of party doctrines it is not a matter of something being absolutely true or false, but of something being not quite true or not quite false. And those who want to look up to the unseen behind things see that, with all the shades of parties, we are not dealing with an either-or, but with a both-and.

And in particular, as far as our question today is concerned, we see how fanatically the one party of medicine fights the other. There is a broad movement that does not think favorably of what is official for today's general human thinking. In many cases, this official health teaching is attacked. Spiritual science is not there to take a layman's point of view and fight the official line. Spiritual science will always be inclined to recognize how official health science is able to provide the means to reach a judgment in a truly magnificent way. It is just that official science, in this particular field, is tied up in a certain dogma, so that the majority of those who are called upon to form an opinion cannot but consider what spiritual science has to say as foolish, fantastic, or even worse. But regardless of the judgments, the question must be discussed.

First, let us consider how partiality has delivered judgment. We can only agree on the principle, on the current, only on what the popular view is in this area. It is completely imbued with materialistic thinking. Much has changed in recent decades; we will see what is being neglected; we will see that reference will have to be made to the higher aspects of human nature; we will see that there is no awareness of these aspects at all in our time. And we may say that it has only become so in the course of the last few decades.

I would like to mention just one symptom. I would like to remind you of a personality, the once really very famous anatomist Hyrtl. Not only did he write excellent books on anatomy, but he was also one of the best teachers. He presented anatomy in a way that made it seem less dry; but he presented it in his own, unique way. He had a prerequisite for his students; he always said that he had written his books so that readers would read the parts they already knew before listening to his lectures, so that they could skip over what they already knew. But when he explained the entire structure of the human organism, it was as if one saw the creative hand at work; that which is composed came to life, and that was because this architect really exists, because the etheric body really exists, because Hyrtl spoke as if from these forces. The spirit of his description was permeated by these forces. This anatomist had, so to speak, expressed the invisible essence of human nature between the words.

A saying of Hyrtl's may be in the memory of his listeners in the 1970s. He said: Only a doctor can recognize an illness, but only someone who knows what helps can heal an illness. The spirit that hovered over the whole has given way in such a way that today's approach is only concerned with understanding the human body as it presents itself as a sum of processes that can be examined, perhaps more thought of as chemical or physical processes. The approach that views health from such a perspective has produced extraordinary results because the physical body is what is really there, and because it has provided the most wonderful means.

If we want to establish a principle, it is that there are certain antidotes for illnesses that make the causes of illness disappear. So we speak of illnesses and specific remedies; we speak of the fact that the human organism must be protected by various means, by water and air treatment, etc. From this point of view, we point out the progress that has been made recently. And one would be mistaken if one were to deny this point of view outright; one need only point to the mortality rates of cities, for example, and one will see what official science has achieved; one need only point to what has been added to the store of remedies in recent times. So it is not to deny the fertility of official medicine that these considerations are intended.

But there is a dark side to this progress. Imagine what would happen to humanity if it had to live according to the will of those who would exploit the fear of germs to create social institutions! Take, for example, tetanus. It is caused by a germ that does not need its carrier, the sick person himself, only the person who comes into contact with the sick person. Now imagine that everyone who has come into contact with someone suffering from lockjaw is checked. Imagine the tyranny that would result! Of course, all these things are right, but it is impossible to base anything on them in social life.

Now, spiritual science is not one of those currents of contemporary thought that seeks to deny that there are specific remedies for certain diseases that are “poisons”. The word “poison” has a kind of suggestion, and many feel within themselves when it is said that certain medicines are poisons, as if something tremendously striking against medicine were being said. But it must be realized that one should not allow oneself to be suggestively influenced by a word.

What exactly is a poison? Those who have been subjected to the suggestion of this word will not be able to answer this easily. We can form a rough idea if we bear in mind that belladonna, for example, is a poison for humans, but rabbits can eat it without harm; in the same way, hemlock does not harm goats. This gives you the whole relativity of the concept of “poison”. And in this respect, spiritual science will never go against official experience.

Let us now contrast this approach with another, namely naturopathy or homeopathy. These differ in many ways in the way they think about illness. One says: When a disease process is present, we have to look at it as something that should not be there and that we have to fight against. The other says: It is not a matter of fighting directly; what presents itself to us as an illness is an attempt by the person to fight against the cause lying within. One has to support a disease process so that nature, the symptom, can take effect. – That can be said in many respects. But the remedy that causes illness in a healthy person can have a healing effect on a sick person.

Now, however, we have to say that when this view is theoretically applied, when it is advocated, those people say something very specific that comes close to what spiritual science must advocate, namely that beyond the physical body lies something much more real, the actual builder, the etheric body. But in many respects it is actually impossible for those who want to be considered important in the conventional world view to admit that there is an invisible part of the human being. Spiritual science that wants to be valid must today point out that behind all physical processes there is something as a system of forces, the etheric body, permeating everything that is physically visible with forces. It may well be that the causes of illness lie in the etheric body.

We so often hear people compared to a machine or a mechanism. Of course, in a certain sense, this is true; but what is a machine without the person who builds it or the one who operates it? There is no visible builder or guide in the human body, but there are invisible guides. When we die and the etheric body separates, the physical body succumbs to physical and chemical processes.

Just as there is damage in the physical body, there is also such damage in the etheric body, in the astral body and in the I. One must not only theoretically admit the spirit, so to speak – it may be enough for the soul egoism – but if one is unable to apply the spirit in one's true behavior, then the spirit is an empty theory. What matters is that we are able to put what happens in the spiritual world at the service of life. We will show in a moment how this comes into play when we talk about health. When we speak in this context, we must not think of external injuries such as a broken leg; these are things that belong in the realm of external healing methods. But there are injuries where we have to say: the causes are to be sought in the spiritual realm; and there we must also seek the healing methods. For such things it is not enough to say that the invisible limbs are at work, that they bring about the damage.

I would like to follow up on the last lecture given here on “Nutritional Issues”, in which we saw how what a person takes in as food is significant for the strength or weakness of the human organism. Today, we want to realize that by taking in food, we enter into a relationship with the processes of the environment. In this way, he ceases to merely allow processes to take place within him. Depending on whether we take this or that food, we are dependent on the processes that they trigger in us. We must be able to process what we take in from the outside within us. This other aspect is no less important; depending on how we eat, we are connected with our organism to the spiritual world. On the one hand, we are devoted to the whole outside world, and on the other hand, we withdraw into ourselves to devote ourselves to the spirit. The organism enters into an exchange. There it takes up these spiritual products just as it takes up the physical products in the physical world. When a person devotes himself to the spiritual world in the right way, his spiritual organs become the right tools for digesting the spirit. If he does it in the wrong way, they become unsuitable for processing what is taken up materially; he must become ill.

There is a definite relationship between what a person does and what happens to his spirit. You can visualize this if you consider the astral body to be a good and accurate indicator of what a person experiences in relation to the outside world. There are parents who think this or that is good and now expect their child to share the same view. This is the most misguided method of education there is. When the child is young, its organism has a yardstick by which to measure what arouses its antipathy and sympathy, what gives it pleasure and pain. We should therefore carefully examine the sympathy and antipathy of childhood.

This is not to say that the child should not be disturbed by the naughtiness; you should only choose the right way. First of all, it is a matter of creating pleasure, that is, one should first act on the astral body. By the indirect route of pleasure and pain, we come to what can now be absorbed by us in the appropriate way. You see, anyone who looks at our social life today knows that countless pathological conditions are connected with it. When we look at the human organism, we see the physical body, the etheric body, the astral body and the I. Let us assume that a person has a task to perform that becomes habitual for him. What happens then? The physical body and the etheric body are involved in such work. When something becomes habitual for a person, when he does it, so to speak, because he has to do it, then the astral body is not involved. Observe the countless people sitting and working here or there, who hardly involve the astral body at all, except at most through annoyance and displeasure. Under the influence of such activities, a process takes place that we can call a process of solidification of the astral body. The astral body is in a healthy state when it can actively engage with the physical and etheric bodies. If you have made the astral body rigid and hardened, it is as if you have a machine in front of you that you cannot control. When the etheric body and the physical body switch off the astral body, it is not present during activities. The fact that it encounters resistance means that such a person feels the resistance not only as an illness, but as having this or that illness.

Thus, the simple fact is that the non-consideration and non-participation of the astral body in countless disease processes is the cause of the present situation. These are not counteracted in the right way. Of course, a great deal of emphasis is placed on all kinds of useful things, such as gymnastics, for example. But the way it is done in our time does not promote intensive health care. The focus is too much on the physical body, on the idea that a limb must move in a certain way and that a person must perform this gymnastic exercise in a certain way, because it promotes the physical body. It will be understood that if one envisages that a very specific feeling of pleasure must be associated with each exercise, then one is, as it were, doing gymnastics in the astral body. Then harmony is established with the astral body. I knew a gym teacher who was an example of how gymnastics should not be done. He was a person who was proud that he understood anatomy. The man himself could not do gymnastics, he could only show how things should be done. His instructions indicated that he only looked at people from the outside, only as a composition of bones and muscles.

Gymnastics should be spiritualized, so to speak. At some point, every gymnastics exercise will have a very specific name, and you will feel that you are imitating something very specific. You do an exercise, for example a little ship, and you feel that you are imitating something. This is spiritual gymnastics. If young people do this, it also has the side effect of ensuring that they never suffer from poor memory in old age. If you look at it this way, spiritual science can have an extremely fruitful effect.

All that we have mentioned now shows how spiritual science can be applied in health practice. If you consider that people today lead two lives, one in the outer world and one in the inner world, in feelings of pleasure and displeasure, you will see the whole disharmony of the inner and outer human being. Harmony can only come about when one knows how the astral and etheric bodies can work healthily. When the instincts and desires are directed in a certain way, let us say, according to the general laws of the world, then the astral body will find within itself the strong power to rule over the etheric body and the physical body. If a person is gloomy, if pain constantly touches the soul, then the astral body will be weak. A varied life of ideas and feelings has a healthy effect on the astral body under all circumstances.

It is remarkable how human culture has always worked towards shaping all means to achieve the goal of having a healthy effect on human nature. Aristotle said that drama should present a series of actions that arouse fear and compassion. So, emotional processes should be evoked in us, but they should be such that they allow a catharsis, a purification of the passions to occur. Thus, he shows that he sees a healing process in the emotional process that is stimulated in a person. Yes, the astral body becomes stronger as a result. From this we see that it is not irrelevant how the whole process plays out in the astral body. Depending on whether we alternate exciting or calming feelings, storm or calm, we will have an effect on the etheric body and the physical body if we do it in the right way. One of the most beautiful ways of stimulating the human astral body for a certain class of people is the very ordinary circus games with the clown. The lust with which people see the clown's antics is extraordinarily healthy. Feeling superior, seeing the absurd, makes one healthy. It is precisely these things, which make us able to counteract destruction, that have unconsciously been used in the natural process of human development. One can say that events in which nonsense is obviously presented are just as effective as saying, “You should drink this or that water, breathe this or that air.”

Furthermore, the I is involved to a very extraordinary degree in how a person tolerates the outside world. If we do not see the functions taking place properly because they cannot tolerate this or that, the interests of the person are misdirected, then we can find disturbances in digestion, etc., as an effect. If we understand this connection with interests and the direction of attention, what is already there could also be introduced.

Human beings express their feelings through two actions that you do not find in animals, namely laughing and crying. The ape may have a certain grin, but it is not human laughter because the animal has no I. You also know that just as slowly as the child comes to self, so too does laughter and crying come to him, only from about the 40th day onwards. Why is that? It is because when a person laughs, a relationship exists in which the astral body expands. We see how the ego takes on a superior relationship to what is happening in the environment. Just as one breathes, one must have this feeling of superiority. When crying, the whole ego contracts. Therefore, crying is a certain voluptuousness; it is basically an antidote to what one has experienced. Thus we see how the ego changes the organism, attacks it. In the discharge of the tear water, a secretion of the blood, we have a very material effect on a mental process. Thus, the spiritual works continuously in all possible details.

I will give an example to show how tremendously enlightening spiritual science will be. There is a certain rhythm, a rhythm that encompasses many things. Take the human ego; it goes through a very specific rhythm within 24 hours. When you wake up, you experience the same thing exactly 24 hours later. Thus the ego remains in a rhythmic activity. Just as the I has a rhythm in 24 hours, so does the astral body in 7 days. Just as the I returns to a starting point after 24 hours, so does the astral body after 7 days. And finally, the etheric body goes through a similar rhythm in 28 days. So you see again that the human being is a very complicated being. We can compare these rhythms with the hands of a clock; the rhythm of the I with the rotation of the second hand, the slower rotation of the minute hand with the rhythm of the astral body; with the even slower rotation of the hour hand, the rhythm of the ether body. Just as the minute hand is above the hour hand at a certain time, so it is with the movements, the rhythmic movements of the human etheric and astral bodies. The etheric body has only made a quarter of the astral body's full revolution.

The position of the etheric body in relation to the astral body is therefore different, so a lot depends on the state of the person when a particular event occurs. If, for example, fever occurs in a very specific position of the etheric and astral bodies, when the etheric and astral bodies collapse after seven days, the fever can be combated again by the etheric body. From this you can see that it is connected with this behavior of the etheric and astral bodies that the fever drops after seven days in the case of pneumonia.

This phenomenon that we are confronted with is a very specific effect of the whole human nature and its rhythms. And such behaviors exist for each individual system, whether it is the lung system, heart system or any other. If we recognize this as a truth, it will have an enormous influence and the groping in the dark will end. Of course, it is necessary to be vividly aware that one can also work on the spirit. When one speaks of the influence of this or that light, one has only the physical processes in mind and not the spiritual effects.

A start has just been made here in Munich by our dear member Dr. Peipers. This is important because it involves taking into account the higher bodies in man, that the blue or red has a certain effect on them. It must be made clear that this matter cannot be compared to any color theory, but that the perception of colors triggers healing processes and thus has a healing effect. And it is reckoned here that there is a spiritual world, and it is placed in human life.

Just as colors, tones and very specific thought complexes are used for the recovery of the person, because they evoke very specific processes in the person. For example, it has a very specific influence on a person whether he indulges in ideas that are linked to reality. Today, one is instructed to use, as far as possible, ideas that are only a photographic image of reality. These are the most unhealthy. Those ideas that are in the realm of natural science kill the human spirit all the more, the more central they are, and the consequence is that the human being cannot overcome the physical body, and the further consequence is that this or that illness must occur. In contrast, ideas that are produced by the spirit itself have an invigorating effect. When imaginative thinking takes place in a lawful way, it is healing. Directing attention in the right way is also health-giving. This is of tremendous importance, for no person can suffer from a digestive disorder, for example, who is filled with such interest. And such interest can only be evoked by the whole world appearing before us, guided and directed by the spiritual.

When humanity will one day realize that educating oneself about the riddles of existence pours all the vitality into our soul and gives such joy and pleasure that no storms can change it, then one will understand that spiritual science itself is the original remedy for all diseases. Those who do not want to come to it will rush from one impression to another and get bored. Nothing is more unhealthy than this rushing about. When the correctly guided interest of life goes to the center, then there is neither boredom in the world nor rushing from one sensory impression to another. The one who is guided by spiritual science finds something interesting in even the smallest thing. One does not always have to beg the outside world to interest me. - Because one finds a source within oneself that creates interest. And this makes the person healthy.

Spiritual science must not be accused of alienating life; no, it contains the only elixir of life. It has the right effect on everyone because it leads to the center of the world; it is a source of health. However, we may say that through a failed inner life, man creates the cause of the disease that takes him furthest away from the goal. Therefore only spiritual science will be able to answer the question, because it takes into account the whole human being. And so spiritual science will give us a health care that makes man the master of his organism. Even if one will establish a dogmatic medicine, where the dogma was always there, one will not be able to force people to keep themselves healthy. Therefore, the question to be answered in the near future will be important: How do we keep ourselves healthy? And this will be possible for the person who is able to repair what can be disturbed by the causes of illness. He knows that inner strength accomplishes more than what can be done from the outside. And so Theosophy is able to give people health in such a way that they acquire the ability to live and the security to fulfill their tasks and duties in life.