The Rudolf Steiner Archive

When these lectures were first translated into English and published in ANTHROPOSOPHY: A Quarterly Review of Spiritual Science in 1929, lecture 16 “Earthquakes, Volcanoes, and the Will of Man” was not published. Rene Querido translated this 16th lecture into English from the French and kindly furnished the diagram following lecture 16 which shows the interior of the Earth. Rene Querido also wrote the preface for this reprint edition.

The present cycle of lectures was given in 1906 in Paris and the report of it by Edouard Schuré now published in English in its entirety for the first time marks the beginning of a new phase in the life of Rudolf Steiner. Accompanied by Marie von Sievers (later Marie Steiner), Rudolf Steiner had been invited, by the famous French author and dramatist Edouard Schuré, to address a group consisting mainly of Russians in a small villa on the outskirts of Paris. Among them were writers of note such as Dimitri Merejkowski, his wife Zinaida Hippius, a poetess in her own right, and S. Minski. Originally it had been planned that the course be held on Russian soil but the revolution of 1905 had made that impossible.

At this time Edouard Schuré (1841–1929), a man of 65, stood at the height of his career. He had written more than a dozen major works including The Great Initiates (1889), A History of the German Lied, A Collection of Celtic Legends, two important works on Richard Wagner, and a number of dramas striving to recapture the lost ritualistic element of the ancient mysteries on the stage. He felt powerfully drawn not only to Richard Wagner the composer, but also to the man. He had met the maestro on three occasions and was present in Munich at the dramatic opening of Tristan and Isolde.

Schuré's interest in the occult was profound. He had written The Great Initiates (1889) as a result of his deep connection over a period of many years with Margherita Albana-Mignaty, who continued to inspire him even after her death. Rudolf Steiner often referred to the importance of this book and although it was written ten years before the end of Kali-Yuga (the Age of Darkness), he spoke of this work as a herald of the new Age of Light, when human beings would again seek for their spiritual connection with the great initiates of the past. For some time before their first meeting in Paris, Marie von Sievers and Schuré had corresponded. An unusual set of circumstances led to the fact that indirectly it was Schuré who had brought about the meeting between Marie von Sievers and Rudolf Steiner which was to prove so fruitful for the growth of the Anthroposophical movement. Unable to reply to a specific question related to the occult, Schuré advised the young Marie von Sievers to turn to Rudolf Steiner in Berlin. A little later Marie von Sievers wrote so enthusiastically to Schuré (in excellent French) of her meeting that he, too, wished to become acquainted with Steiner personally. This was to happen six years later in Paris on the occasion of these lectures. The recognition must have been immediate. Schuré, twenty years Steiner's senior, never tired of recounting this significant meeting: for the first time, he felt himself to be in the presence of an initiate. “Here is a genuine Master who will play a crucial part in your life.” Schuré recognized Steiner as one who stood fully in the world of today and yet could also behold in clear consciousness the boundless vistas of the super-sensible. A warm friendship quickly developed between the two men: vacations spent together in Barr (1906–1907) in Schuré's summer house in the Alsace; long walks over the Odilienberg, and an active correspondence (mostly on the part of Marie Steiner, who translated several of Schuré's dramas into German). The substance of a number of intimate conversations has been recorded by Rudolf Steiner in the “Document of Barr.”¹ In 1907 Schuré's Sacred Drama of Eleusis was produced under the direction of Rudolf Steiner at the great Munich Congress of the Theosophical Society. It was on this occasion that Rudolf Steiner said that from this time on, art and occultism should always remain connected. In 1909 the first performance of Schuré's drama, The Children of Lucifer, was given using a German translation of the French text by Marie Steiner. The deeper connection now becomes obvious: Schuré the poet, a Celtic-Greek soul, devoted to the renewal of the ancient mysteries, and one of the first Frenchmen to recognize Richard Wagner's impulse towards the “Gesamtkunstwerk” (a total ritualistic experience embracing all the art forms), now whole-heartedly supported Rudolf Steiner in the great Munich endeavors (1907–1913). This period saw the birth of the mystery dramas and the first performances of Eurythmy. It was also in Munich that plans had been made for the building of the First Goetheanum (the House of The Word) which was later erected on the Dornach hill near Basel in Switzerland.

The war years (1914–1918) brought an unfortunate clouding over of their friendship due to Schuré's stubborn chauvinism which nevertheless did not interfere with his continued championing of Richard Wagner. But with Rudolf Steiner, he broke his connection. A few years after the war the friendship was renewed and it must have been an amazing sight to have seen the old, still robust, white-haired Schuré in animated conversation with Steiner as they walked up and down on the terrace of the First Goetheanum in Dornach. Years later, Schuré would still speak of his profound indebtedness to Rudolf Steiner both for the personal help he had received from him and for his having brought the new mysteries clearly to expression in an age of materialism.

These lectures were given on the fringe of the International Theosophical Congress held in Paris and attended by delegates from many countries. Rudolf Steiner himself attached a distinct importance to this course in Paris where he formulated a basic view of Esoteric Christianity which a few years later was to separate him radically from the Theosophical Society. In the 37th chapter of Rudolf Steiner, The Story of My Life (written in 1924–25 shortly before his death) we find the following passage:²

In the Paris cycle of lectures I brought forward a perception which had required a long process of “ripening” in my mind. After I had explained how the members of the human being—physical body; etheric body, as mediator of the phenomena of life; and the “bearer of the ego”—are in general related to one another, I imparted the fact that the etheric body of a man is female, and the etheric body of a woman is male. Through this a light was cast within the Anthroposophical Society upon one of the basic questions of existence which just at that time had been much discussed. One need only remember the book of the unfortunate Weininger, “Geschlecht und Charakter,” (Sex and Character), and the contemporary poetry.

But the question was carried into the depths of the being of man. In his physical body man is bound up with the cosmos quite otherwise than in his etheric body. Through his physical body man stands within the forces of the earth; through his etheric body within the forces of the outer cosmos. The male and female elements were carried into connection with the mysteries of the cosmos.

This knowledge was something belonging to the most profoundly moving inner experiences of my soul; for I felt ever anew how one must approach a spiritual perception by patient waiting and how, when one has experienced the “ripeness of consciousness,” one must lay hold by means of ideas in order to place the perception within the sphere of human knowledge.

It is perhaps not without significance that it was in Paris, where Thomas Aquinas had elaborated some seven centuries earlier his Christ-oriented Scholasticism, that Rudolf Steiner gave his first course on an Esoteric Christian Cosmology appropriate to the dawn of the new Age of Light. Schuré's notes in French of the 18 lectures, published in French in 1928, constitute the only record of this course. They now appear for the first time in English translation in their entirety in book form, readily available to the modern student of the Science of the Spirit.

R. M. Querido

• 1. The “Document of Barr,” dated Sept. 9, 1907 and printed in English translation in the Golden Blade, 1966.
• 2. Rudolf Steiner Publishing Co., London and New York, 1928.

Berlin, July 23, 1905

Dear Mr. Wagner!

I am deeply saddened by the tragedy that has befallen you and your dear wife, and it is only today that I am able to express this to you in a letter. My thoughts are often with you. We Theosophists must be able to accept difficult strokes of fate differently than we could before our Theosophical time. Although love and sympathy will never be diminished by the theosophical life, our understanding and strength to bear will grow. We have nothing to lose by theosophy, but we have so much to gain. We would lose if the feelings that are among the most beautiful in life could in the slightest fade. That is why I know what you feel, out of your noble and glorious love. But I also know you as a true, genuine theosophist and I know that the karmic connections are not a mere doctrine for you, but that you live in them. But I would like to exchange a few thoughts with you right now. It is so easy to see everything that fits into our karma as a chain link as a karmic debt. And that is by no means always the case. Just as karma is a truly all-encompassing law, it is also true that karmic events can be the very first to occur in our causal context. The events that affect us are not always compensations for the past; often they are the first items in our life account that will only be balanced in the future. Just as a merchant enters an item on the one side for the first time, so it is with the items in our karmic account book. These thoughts have been crossing my mind in recent weeks whenever I directed my thoughts to your dear home in Lugano, and these thoughts took on that character in my field of vision that shows that thoughts correspond to a reality. You understand me in writing this inner experience – for that is what it is – to you, dear Mr. Wagner. And perhaps you will also accept at your discretion what is a reality for me.

I long to be able to greet you both again. I hope it will be possible soon.

The London Congress festivities, which unfortunately you were unable to attend, are over.¹ It is in the nature of things that such festivities, even when organized by Theosophists, cannot go much beyond appearances. But I do think that those who wanted to could take away nourishment for their minds and hearts. Mrs. Besant, for example, gave lectures that were full of spiritual impulse. First, on the Thursday before the congress, about H.P.B.'s “pupilship” in view of some of the attacks that have recently been made on the great founder of the Theosophical movement. It seems to me, however, to be very important that this spiritually so highly developed woman Besant should so unreservedly point out again and again how H.P.B. was not a human being to her like any other outstanding person who has entered her life, but as she said – the “Bringer of Light” par excellence. She said that spots should not be denied, but that they are like sunspots, and these are only there where the sun is. I felt the inner experiences of my own life in recent times resonating. For I must say that the further I advance myself, the more I get to know the immense power that radiates from H.P.B., and the more I realize that I myself still have a lot to learn in order to even begin to understand the depths of H.P.B.'s work.

Then on Friday was the British Section Convention. Of interest to you is that Bertram Keightley resigned from the post of General Secretary, and that Miss Kate Spink has taken his place. Keightley will first go to India for four months, after which he wants to devote himself to a kind of theosophical movement that will be made possible for him by being relieved of the official duties of the secretary-general.

Furthermore, the opening of the “Art and Arts and Crafts Exhibition” of the congress was during this time. There were some remarkable things in addition to less significant ones. I would just like to mention a few symbolic pictures by a painter named Russell. He attempts to characterize inner soul processes through symbolic colors in the picture (stars, rays, etc., emanating from the figures, symbolic depictions of external natural objects, etc.). Now I can say that I could not see any real astral vision in the pictures, but I was satisfied with the attempt that a talented painter was making.

On Saturday morning, the actual congress was opened with a speech by Mrs. Besant. It was one of those sweeping overviews of the aims and objectives of the Theosophical movement that Mrs. Besant gives on such occasions. You will be interested to know that she mentioned the sculpture of an Italian sculptor, Ezechiel, a “Christ” of whom she said that it corresponds in some respects to the idea that she, as a Theosophist, has of the Christ individuality. You will also be interested to know that on this occasion, Mrs. Besant referred to Richard Wagner, in whose tones the secrets of the astral world could be heard. This was particularly noteworthy to me, because I had given four lectures to the Berlin Theosophists that spring on the spiritual content of Richard Wagner's work.²

Mrs. Besant's opening speech was followed by something extremely diverse. The delegates from all the European theosophical areas now gave their welcoming speeches in their own language. So one could hear short speeches in the following languages: Dutch, Swedish, French, German, Spanish, Italian, Finnish, Russian, Hungarian, Indian.

The previous evening, Mrs. Besant had given a large-scale, comprehensive speech to several thousand people at Queen's Hall about the “work of 'Theosophy in the world”. She pointed out the necessity of a spiritual deepening in our time, and the work that needs to be done in the most diverse areas of the world. Everything she said was of beautiful generosity and greatness.

On Saturday evening, the theater performance followed. In this regard, one must take into account the goodwill that prevailed. However, it became clear to me that evening in what way the idea of these congresses must be developed if they are to fully fulfill their purpose. Not on what the congress participants will enjoy here for themselves, but above all on the fact that they will find theosophical nourishment for their souls, which they can then take with them to their theosophical home for the benefit and good of those who cannot attend the meetings themselves. The congresses should be a center of spiritual life, from which currents can then go out into the world.

The departmental meetings followed. I am sending you a program under Kreuzband, from which you can at least see the titles of the extensive program that was presented. I would like to mention in particular Mrs. Besant's lecture on Sunday about occult methods of investigation. That was something quite magnificent. She explained in the most beautiful way what the requirements of occult research are in the West, and what precautions, etc., must be observed in such research.

On Monday morning I myself gave a short lecture on the “Occult Basis of Goethe's Work”.

I regret that I cannot write to you in greater detail; but before me lie the last works waiting to be published in Lucifer, numbers 24 and 25. And you can imagine how much work that is. It is necessary that I publish these esoteric matters that Lucifer has brought in recent times. But the responsibility weighs heavily on me. And I have to consider every line, every turn of phrase ten times over in order to reproduce as accurately as possible the spiritual content that is incumbent upon me, and yet which is transmitted to me in a completely different form and language.

Kindest regards to your dear wife.

Ever faithful yours,

Dr. Rudolf Steiner
Berlin W, Motzstrasse 17

• 1. On July 8, 9 and 10, 1905, the 2nd Congress of the Federation of European Sections of the Theosophical Society took place in London. On July 10, Rudolf Steiner spoke about “The Occult Foundations of Goethe's Work” in “Philosophy and Anthroposophy,” CW 35.
• 2. In Berlin on March 28, May 5, 12, and 19, 1905.

Dr. Steiner: Now that the call has been successfully made ¹ and the willingness of this group to tackle the affairs of the Anthroposophical Society has been demonstrated, it would be good if a kind of chair for today's meeting were elected from among the assembly. This would best correspond to the inner workings of the matter. We have so far been, to a certain extent, a disorderly group of people, and we are now to enter into a specific community of will, as has been emphasized several times. Therefore, I would like to ask you to elect a chairperson from among yourselves, so that today's proceedings are fruitful and proceed in such a way that it can be seen that something can come out of the delegates' meeting. It will only come to something if a kind of self-evident spiritual leadership and direction emerges from the group of personalities gathered here.

It is proposed that Emil Leinhas be appointed chairman.

Emil Leinhas: I would just like to point out that I am not sufficiently informed.

Dr. Steiner: Since today's meeting has obviously been prepared over the last few days, it would be reasonable for someone in the middle of it all to take the chair.

Mr. Baravalle: I propose Dr. Wolfgang Wachsmuth if it cannot be Mr. Leinhas.

Dr. Wolfgang Wachsmuth and Dr. Kolisko are proposed. Emil Leinhas: I accept the position if I have to.

Dr. Steiner: Then I ask those of the esteemed attendees who are in favor of Mr. Leinhas to raise their hands.

A vote is taken and Emil Leinhas is elected chairman. Dr. Steiner: I will now be able to listen all the more attentively.

Emil Leinhas: The circular letter should be sent to all members in Germany. Mr. Werbeck should participate after all, shouldn't he? (Note from Dr. Heyer: “Circular letter without Werbeck's signature? Sensitivities regarding Werbeck?”)

The following speak on this: Dr. Kolisko, Dr. Heyer, Emil Leinhas and Toni Völker.

Dr. Steiner: Apart from the reason given, namely sensitivity, I don't see what could be against it. The fact that this sensitivity plays such a role in the Anthroposophical Society is the really ruinous fact. We can give up on the Anthroposophical Society if we rely on the sensitivities. These sensitivities do not only show themselves in their naked form, but also in all kinds of masks. Over the years, they have gained tremendous power because they have been camouflaged. This is one of the factors that has become ruinous. If we continue to take sensitivities into account, the reorganization is in vain. We must begin to discard dishonesty and say truthfully: We can found a Philistine society, then sensitivities can play a role. But then we will drive anthroposophy out of society. We must make an effort to overcome this sensitivity.

Emil Leinhas: You often have to be considerate of it.

Dr. Steiner: You can do that in other things. (Note from Dr. Heyer: “not in matters of principle”)

Emil Leinhas: Werbeck will be admitted to the committee, and an explanation will be given later as to why his name is not on the appeal.

Dr. Kolisko speaks.

Emil Leinhas announces the detailed program of the delegates' conference and opens it up for discussion. Many speakers contribute.

Dr. Steiner (2): We would then accept the proposals of Dr. Schwebsch, who, as the most specialized, has proposed such a program.

Dr. Schwebsch: I have considered a few things, such as headlines: 1. Situation of the dwarves; 2. Branch work; 3. Organization of trust; 4. Inner history and

history of the institutions; 5. New generation and youth movement; 6. Treatment of opponents.

One speaker thinks it should be asked whether the assembly of delegates agrees that this committee remains in charge.

Dr. Steiner: You expose yourself to the danger of a random leadership. How do you want to prevent a random president from being elected?

Dr. Kolisko: The leadership must come from the same place as the invitations.

Dr. Steiner: It will just be a matter of preventing the question from arising in the first place by the appearance of the committee. There should be no desire to somehow elect a president. This desire should not arise. What I fear is that there will not be enough discussion by the committee and from this circle, so that a new tone would really be established from the outset. So that is what has emerged so strongly as a deficiency, that people have not become aware of what it means to lead such a society. At this assembly of delegates, this may lead to the election of a random president. Some member who joined the Anthroposophical Society the day before yesterday and who says something clever is then elected president. This happens in particular when such things recur and when people are not aware that they must not recur. Then all sorts of things happen.

It was criticized yesterday that — if I may put it this way — the management had failed completely. I could only perceive the after-effects because I arrived late. Yesterday it is said to have been the case that basically throughout the whole evening this committee of thirty did not take action at all, but rather was notable for its mental absence. ² It can go wrong if this happens again at the delegates' meeting, that no sound is given, that one is not aware of what the actual duty of this circle of “large-headed” people is. If they are not aware that something must be done so that the others also have a reason to recognize the committee, then it can also go wrong.

Several members, Dr. Unger, Dr. Kolisko and Emil Leinhas, talk about the fact that the members of the Circle should speak.

Dr. Steiner: All members of this committee of nine are, of course, members of this Circle of Thirty. And just as these seven have signed from the Circle of Thirty, it could just as well be a different seven under certain circumstances, and yet another seven. The appeal will be signed by the individual members of the Circle of Thirty. It could not be signed only by the Thirty Circle itself, because the Thirty Circle as such – as has been revealed – has shown itself to be an impossibility in its entirety. It is a fact that this Thirty Circle is something terrible. It raged particularly terribly in the assembly, where the circle had strengthened [see the expanded Thirty Circle meeting of January 22]. If it had been written below: Thirty Circle, that would have been impossible. But when its members appear before the assembly of delegates as individuals, it is only each person's duty and obligation. I don't see why they shouldn't be there. There is absolutely no way to fathom why a mandate should first be created for those who should have represented the interests of the company here.

Consider just one fact that has been mentioned this evening. You could just as easily get a second one. That is that the members of the individual branches were delighted when the second newsletter arrived. If only the members outside hear anything at all about what is going on in Stuttgart, they are happy. The only terrible thing was that the central board said to itself on December 4: I will send out a newsletter; and after that it ignored the Society. Nothing has happened in the time since then. So when a sign of life came in the form of the newsletter, the members were very happy. If only someone will draw friendly nostrils in the anthroposophical sense, then the matter will be there. You cannot demand that by merely signing — you cannot draw the nostrils without them — that without these friendly nostrils the members will infer what the Thirty Circle has achieved with the appeal. The individual members are not obliterated by saying that the Thirty Circle as a whole is a disgrace. All the more should one prepare oneself, preferably in front of the mirror, to make the friendly nostrils. Hopefully the circle will focus some attention on the nostrils.

I have to speak with the individual people tomorrow and hold teachers' conferences; in the evening it is already too late. It should be possible to continue today.

[Because the meeting had to be interrupted due to the lecture by Rudolf Steiner in the Stuttgart branch, it should be continued later.]

• 1. See page 334.
• 2. There are no minutes of this meeting.

[ 1 ] The description of the life of the philosophical spirit from the middle of the nineteenth century to the present time, which has been attempted in this second volume of The Riddles of Philosophy, cannot be of the same character as the survey of the works of the preceding thinkers. This survey had to remain within the most restricted circle of the philosophical problems. The last sixty years represent the age in which the mode of conception of natural science attempted, from different points of view, to shake the foundation on which philosophy formerly stood. During this time, the view arose that maintained that the results of natural science shed the necessary light on the question of man's nature, his relation to the world and other riddles of existence, which the intellectual work of philosophy had formerly sought to supply. Many thinkers who wanted to serve philosophy now tried to imitate the mode of investigation of natural science. Others laid the foundation for their world conception, not in the fashion of the old philosophical mode of thinking, but simply by taking over that basis from the mode of conception of natural science, biology or physiology. Those who meant to preserve the independence of philosophy believed it best to examine thoroughly the results of natural science in order to prevent them from invading the philosophical sphere. It is for this reason necessary, in presenting the philosophical life of this period, to pay attention to the views that, derived from natural science, have been introduced into world conceptions. The significance of these views for philosophy becomes apparent only if one examines the scientific foundations from which they are derived, and if one realizes for oneself the tendencies of scientific thinking according to which they were developed. This situation is given expression in this book by the fact that some parts of it are formulated almost as if a presentation of general natural scientific ideas, and not one of philosophical works, had been intended. The opinion appears to be justified that this method of presentation shows distinctly how thoroughly natural science has influenced the philosophical life of the present time.

[ 2 ] A reader who finds it reconcilable to his mode of thinking to conceive the evolution of the philosophical life along the lines indicated in the introduction of the first volume of this book, and for which the more detailed account of the book has attempted to supply the foundation, will also find it possible to accept the indicated relation between philosophy and natural science in the present age as a necessary phase of its evolution. Through the centuries since the beginning of Greek philosophy this evolution tended to lead the human soul toward the experience of its inner essential forces. With this inner experience the soul became more and more estranged in the world that the knowledge of external nature had erected for itself. A conception of nature arose that is so exclusively concerned with the observation of the external world that it does not show any inclination to include in its world picture what the soul experiences in its inner world. This conception considers it as unjustified to paint the world picture in a way that it would show these inner experiences of the human soul as well as the results of the research of natural science. It characterizes the situation in which philosophy found itself in the second half of the nineteenth century, and in which many currents of thought can still be found in the present time. Such a judgment does not have to be artificially introduced to the study of the philosophy of this age. It can be arrived at by simply observing the facts. The second volume of this book attempts to record this new development, but it has also made it necessary to add to the second edition a final chapter that contains “A Brief Outline of an Approach to Anthroposophy.”

One can be of the opinion that this account does not belong in the framework of the whole book but, in the preface to the first volume, it was announced that the purpose of this presentation “is not only to give a short outline of the history of philosophical problems, but also to discuss these problems and the attempts at their solution through their historical treatment.” The view expressed in this book tries to show that many situations arising from the attempted solutions in the philosophy of the present tend to recognize an element in the inner experience of the human soul that manifests itself in such a way that the exclusive claim of natural science can no longer deny that element a place in the modern world picture. As it is the philosophical conviction of the author of this book that the account of the final chapter deals with soul experiences that are adequate to bring fulfillment to the search of modern philosophy, he feels he was justified in adding this chapter to his presentation. As a result of observation of these philosophies, it seems to the author to be basically characteristic of them and of their historical manifestation that they do not consistently continue their direction toward the goal they are seeking. This direction must lead toward the world conception that is outlined at the end of the book, which aims at a real science of the spirit. The reader who can agree with this can find in this conception something that supplies the solutions to problems that the philosophy of the present time poses without giving answers. If this is true, the content of the last chapter will also throw light on the historical position of modern philosophy.

[ 3 ] The author of this book does not imagine that everyone who can accept the content of the final chapter must necessarily also seek a world conception that replaces philosophy by a view that can no longer be recognized as a philosophy by traditional philosophers. What this book means to show is that philosophy, if it arrives at the point where it understands itself, must lead the spirit to a soul experience that is, to be sure, the fruit of its work, but also grows beyond it. In this way, philosophy retains its significance for everyone who, according to his mode of thinking, must demand a secure intellectual foundation for the results of this soul experience. Whoever can accept these results through a natural sense for truth, is justified in feeling himself on secure ground even if he pays no special attention to a philosophical foundation of these results. But whoever seeks the scientific justification of the world conception that is presented at the end of the book, must follow the path of the philosophical foundation.

[ 4 ] That this path, if it is followed through to its end, leads to the experience of a spiritual world, and that the soul through this experience can become aware of its own spiritual essence through a method that is independent of its experience and knowledge through the sense world, is what the presentation of this book attempts to prove. It was not the author's intention to project this thought as a preconceived idea into his observation of philosophical life. He wanted to search without bias for the conception expressed in this life itself. He has at least endeavored to proceed in this way. He believes that this thought could be best presented by speaking the language of a natural scientist, as it were, in some parts of the book. Only if one is capable of temporarily identifying oneself completely with a certain point of view is it possible to do full justice to it. By this method of deliberately taking the position of a world view, the human soul can most safely obtain the ability to withdraw from it again and enter into modes of conception that have their source in realms that are not comprised by this view of the world.

[ 5 ] The printing of this second volume of The Riddles of Philosophy was about half finished before the great war that mankind is now experiencing broke out. It was finished just as this event began. This is only to indicate what outer events stirred and occupied my soul as the last thoughts included in this book passed before my inner eye.

Rudolf Steiner
September 1, 1914, Berlin

When Goethe in ripe old age looked back upon the whole development of his life, he named three men who had had most influence upon him; Linné, the Naturalist, Spinoza, the Philosopher, and Shakespeare, the Poet.

To Linné he placed himself in opposition and through this reached his own point of view regarding the forms of plants and animals. From Spinoza he borrowed a mode of expression which enabled him to give out his ideas in a thoughtful language which was deeper and richer than that of Philosophers. In Shakespeare he found a spirit that fired his own poetic gift according to the inmost demands of his own being.

Anyone who can gain an insight to the soul strivings of Goethe as these comes to light in his Götz and Werther, where he reveals what he had gone through inwardly, can also see what took place in him when first he absorbed himself in Hamlet.

A vivid impression of this is to be obtained from his statement that Shakespeare is an interpreter of the World-spirit itself. Goethe holds that Shakespeare's genius openly reveals what the World-spirit hides within Nature's activities. His whole attitude towards Shakespeare is expressed in this statement.

It is only within the last five hundred years that what we to-day call Intellectualism has taken possession of our soul life. In the outlook which obtained earlier the soul of humanity was active in a different way. Understanding through thinking played a secondary part.

A battle against the overlordship of thought is visible in Goethe's soul. He still wishes to experience the world inwardly with different soul forces. But the mental life which surrounds him makes thought the basic element in the activities of the soul. So Goethe asks himself: Can one get into intimate touch with the surrounding world through thought? Such a possibility stirs him deeply and out of the overwhelming effect it has upon his soul, his Faust is born.

Goethe presents Faust to us as a teacher who had worked for ten years in a period which saw the advent of Intellectualism. As yet however Intellectualism had only a slight hold upon human nature, and in Philosophy, Jurisprudence, Medicine and Theology Faust does not as yet recognize it as a power which could carry conviction. He could, as a man of science, fall back upon the understanding of an earlier time when men realized spirit in Nature without the intermediary of intellectuality. He wishes to obtain direct vision of spirit. What Faust went through in vacillation between thinking experience and spiritual vision became for the young Goethe an inner battle.

Hamlet and other Shakespeare characters arose before Goethe's soul as he passed through this inner battle. Hamlet, who obtains his life's tasks through soul experiences which appear to him as expressive of relationship to the Spiritual world and who not only is thrown through doubt into inaction, but also through the power of his intellect. The deep abyss of the soul life is contained in Hamlet's words:

The native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought.

The youthful Goethe had often looked into this abyss and the glimpses he had caught of it intensified his sympathy with Hamlet's character.

By following the soul life of Goethe one is led from the Hamlet frame of mind to that of Faust and thus one can experience a bit of Goethe biography. It has not got to be proved through documents, neither need it be historic in the ordinary sense of the term. And yet it will reflect history better than what is usually so named.

One gains a picture of Faust as he lived in Goethe, as the teacher born out of a soul condition which oscillates between intellectualism and spiritual vision. During ten years Faust instructs his pupils under these conditions of wavering and one can well imagine to oneself Hamlet as one of these pupils; not the Hamlet of the Danish Saga but Shakespeare's Hamlet. For Goethe has represented in his Faust the teacher who could have Hamlet's 'native hue of resolution sickled o'er with the pale cast of thought.' In this light Shakespeare is the poet who has before his soul a character born out of the waning of consciousness of the Middle Ages and a New Age. Goethe is the one who wants to penetrate into that world outlook in which such characters develop fully.

In many Shakesperian characters Goethe could feel the reflection of this waning consciousness. This brought Shakespeare so near to him, for it was connected with his feelings for Art. Into this feeling for Art Spinoza's intellectualism penetrated and in Spinoza there existed already that mental activity which gives the thought life of modern humanity its soul bearings.

This 'Spinoza-ism' became tolerable to Goethe only when he came to stand before Italian works of art and could feel in these works as an artist that necessity of material creating which Spinoza could clothe only in pure thought.

Together with Herder he had adopted Spinoza's philosophy but only in Italy could he write from the aspect of art what was impossible through reading Spinoza; 'There is necessity, there is God.'

In order to feel on sure ground in Art, Goethe realized the need of an outlook upon the world, but this outlook would have to include Art as one of its most important elements and not relegate it to an inferior place. The creative spirit in the world revealed itself to Goethe in Nature but he found in Shakespeare the artist who revealed the Spirit in his own creation.

Goethe felt deeply how from his inmost being man must strive toward scientific knowledge, but he felt no less deeply how in this striving thought can wander away in error. He felt himself thus in danger with Spinoza. With Shakespeare he felt himself within the world of direct, artistic outlook. Goethe has himself spoken of his relation to Shakespeare in these words: 'A necessity which excludes more or less or entirely all freedom, as with the ancients, is no longer endurable to our way of thinking; Shakespeare came near this however, for he made necessity moral and thus joined the old world to the new world to our joyful astonishment.'

In his youth Goethe found the way to the 'New World' through Shakespeare because Shakespeare understood in his dramatic characters how to hold the balance between the impelling necessity of Nature's activities in man and his freedom in his thought life. The mutual relationship of these two elements must be experienced to-day if we do not want to loose hold of reality through our life of thought.

NOTE BY EDITOR: In the last lecture of the recent course on dramatic art¹ Dr. Steiner put before us an interesting point of view regarding the representation of Hamlet's character on the stage.

It has always been the custom to make of Hamlet a deeply philosophic character and in rendering the great soliloquies this side of his being has always been brought into evidence. But Dr. Steiner in a reading which he gave of the 'To be or not to be' soliloquy, showed a new aspect of the Hamlet mind which amplifies what he has written in the above article. Hamlet's mental penetration was not that of a New World philosopher. He did not 'reason out' as a modern thinker does. His thoughts oscillate as do his feelings and it is an error to attribute ponderous weight to the statements in this particular speech where the man himself was merely reflecting his passing, changing feelings and ideas. A modern thinker would never have spoken of death as 'the undiscovered country from whose bourne no traveller returns,' when but a few moments previously he had encountered and spoken with his dead Father.

Hamlet is typical of a transition state when the ascendancy of logical reasoning over inner feeling as a perceptive faculty was not established as it became in times nearer our own.

Dr. Steiner's rendering of the speech in what one might name a 'homely' way would probably offend such actors who only see the philosopher in Hamlet, but it is true to the historic aspect of human development in which Hamlet stands as a remarkably complete symbol.

The full significance and true aspect of Hamlet's outlook therefore can be grasped through Anthroposophy.

• 1. Speech and Drama, 19 lectures, Dornach, 5th to 23rd September, 1924.

Men could not reject a spiritual knowledge such as Anthroposophy, if they would but observe with the necessary attention the everyday phenomena of their own mental life. For these phenomena are eloquent witnesses to its reality.

On the one side, looking towards the inner life of man, there stands the fact of Memory. In memory, the experiences man has with the things of the world are preserved in the soul. On the other side is external Perception, behind which the thoughtful human soul feels irresistibly impelled to surmise and seek the inner secrets of the World of Nature.

In both directions, the conscious experience of man comes up against a 'nothingness.'

That which comes to us in memory is no longer there in the outer world. External perception can indeed stimulate, but it cannot bring forth the memories of past experience. On the other hand, careful observation will shew that for the experience of memory man is in every case dependent on his own bodily nature. We feel the memory rising up into consciousness from an exercise of our bodily nature. Science can indeed confirm this, but the feeling is sufficiently certain even without it. Science will shew for instance how memory is impaired by a diseased condition of certain parts of the body. These proofs however only corroborate what is directly evident to the naïve consciousness of man,—provided this be combined with accuracy of observation, which may very well be the case, for the naïve feeling need not be superficial; it is quite able to perceive deeply and truly. Thus in the act of memory man feels how there arise out of his body the forces which—as though with unseen spiritual hands take hold of facts which are no longer there in the world of external Nature. This experience is certainly more delicate, less tangible than others which we have through the immediate sense of life. Yet in its way its evidence is no less certain than that of pains or pleasures, for example, where we know with the sureness of a direct experience that their source is in the body.

On the other side we have our perceptions of the outer world. The life of the soul comes up against these perceptions; it cannot penetrate through them to that which they reveal. Impelled as it is to surmise that something is there revealing itself,—with its own activity it can go no further. Here it has reached its 'nothingness.' It cannot but surmise that it stands at the frontier of a world full of inner content, and yet, as it seeks to penetrate through the perceptions, it feels itself—spiritually—reaching out into the void.

We need only take one more step in this reflection. Behind Memory there begins the region where our own body—for the ordinary consciousness—vanishes into the unknown. Behind Perception, external Nature does the same. The relations of these two to the conscious inner experience of man are of the same kind. Now in Memory, with its foundation in a bodily activity, there arises Thought. For it is in thought that our memories of past experience come forth into conscious life. But thought is also kindled by outward Perception. That which manifests itself to us from without, is brought home to our inner consciousness in thought. Thus do the inner life of Man and the external world of Nature meet in the element of Thought.

And is not this a meeting as it were of old acquaintances? With what a happy sense of kinship does the soul contrive to understand new things perceived in the light of old experience remembered. The strongest sense of the reality of life comes to the soul when it can do this. The inner life of memory, the outer world in perception, meet not as strangers but as friends, who have something to tell one another upon a common subject.

Now the inner force which lives in memory can be intensified. By working upon his soul, man can strengthen the force that shews itself in memory. This possibility, and the way in which it can be realised, are subjects which have frequently been dealt with in these columns.

In doing this, man strikes and penetrates into his bodily nature more deeply than in the process of ordinary consciousness. With the deepened, strengthened force of memory he now perceives himself to be discovering those bodily activities which—as we saw—are always involved in the normal memory process. Indeed, lie not only approaches but penetrates right into them. Vet it is nothing of a bodily nature which comes before the soul at this point. We must picture it as follows. It is as though a shadow-figure, seen against a wall, were suddenly to come to life and step towards us. It is familiar to its because thought is familiar. For it stands there in the soul in just the same way as a thought in ordinary consciousness. But while a thought is not alive, this is alive. It is an 'Imagination.' Like a thought, it is justified by its relationship to a reality. It is therefore not in the least what we should ordinarily call a fancy or imagination. For we perceive at once that it relates to a reality,—in the very same way as the thought in which we hold a memory relates to a reality.

But there is this difference. The thought refers to a reality which was once there in our experience and is now no longer there. The Imagination—though in the very same manner—brings before our soul a reality which in the ordinary experience of life has never yet occurred to us. We have in fact entered a sphere of spiritual perception.

We have penetrated into our own body, yet it is not' Body' but 'Spirit' which we have struck here. It is indeed the Spirit which underlies the Body. We take hold of it 'with spiritual hands,' in the same way as we take hold of past experiences when they arise in ordinary memory.

And as in Thought external Nature meets the inner life of Man, so in Imagination the Spirit of Nature meets the human Spirit. The Spirit that is in Man, taken hold of in Imagination, goes out to meet the Spirit that is in Nature, and this Spirit too reveals itself now in Imagination. To the ordinary consciousness, Thought arises in the act of Memory and kindled by Perceptions from the outer world. To the strengthened consciousness, Imagination arises in the living inner experience of the soul itself, and kindled by a no less living experience of the outer world.

All this can be achieved in the full light of consciousness, where self-deception, suggestion, auto-suggestion and the like are quite impossible. Anyone who reaches true Imagination, lives in it as he lives in the most certain thought, the reference of which to a reality is unmistakable. When we have ceased to allow the slightest vagueness or unconscious element in our experience of the relation of our thoughts to reality, we shall certainly not fall into illusions in our experience of Imagination.

Herein lies the reason why the man who has attained true 'Imaginative Experiences' can speak of them to one who has not yet done so, while the latter can accept his statements with full conviction without giving himself up to any blind belief in authority. In effect, he who tells of Imaginations is only speaking of what is there in the listener himself—beneath the level of his memories—as his own reality of Spirit. In every-day life when a memory is recalled to a man, not by his own thought alone but by another man in conversation with him, he will say to himself, 'I certainly did have that experience in the course of my life, in my ordinary consciousness.' So when he listens to a statement of Imaginative Experience he can say, 'That is I myself in my spiritual perceptions, hitherto unknown to my ordinary consciousness. The man who tells of true Imaginations has only helped me to call up into consciousness what my consciousness had not yet called up for itself. My relation to him is of the same kind as my every-day relation to a man who might remind me of something that had slipped my memory.'

The World of the Spirit, in effect, is simply a thing 'forgotten' by the ordinary consciousness, which—strengthened and intensified—can rediscover it like a returning memory of past experience.

[ 1 ] In the study of Anthroposophy, sleeping and waking have been dealt with often and from varied points of view. But our understanding of these facts of life must be deepened and refreshed again and again, when other points in the constitution of the world have been considered by us. Our previous explanation, showing how the Earth is the seed of a newly arising macrocosm, will give us fresh possibilities for a deeper understanding of sleeping and waking.

[ 2 ] In the waking state, man lives in the Thought-shadows cast by a dead and dying world, and in the Will-impulses into the inner nature of which, with his ordinary consciousness, he can no more penetrate than into the processes of deep, dreamless sleep.

[ 3 ] Where sub-conscious impulses of Will flow into the shadows of Thought, the free dominion of self-consciousness arises. In this self-consciousness, the human ‘Ego’ lives.

[ 4 ] While man experiences his environment in this condition, his inner feeling is permeated by extra-earthly, cosmic impulses, entering from a remote and cosmic past into the present time. He does not become conscious of this fact. For a being can only become conscious of things in which it partakes with its own, dying forces, and not with the growing forces that are the creative kindlers of its life. Thus man experiences himself in consciousness while that which lies at the basis of his inner being is lost to the eye of his mind. And by this very fact he is able, during the waking state, to feel himself so entirely within his shadowed Thoughts. There is no glimmer of life to hinder the full absorption of his inner being in the dead and dying. But from this his ‘life in the dead and dying,’ the essential being of the earthly sphere conceals the fact that it is in reality the seed of a new Universe. Man in the waking state does not perceive the Earth in its true nature. The cosmic life that is germinating in the Earth escapes him.

[ 5 ] Thus man lives in what the Earth gives to him as the basis of his self-consciousness. In the age of unfolding of the self-conscious Ego, the true form both of his inner impulses and of his outer environment is lost to his mind's eye. But as he thus hovers over the true being of the world, he experiences in consciousness the being of the ‘I’: he experiences himself as a self-conscious being. Above him is the extra-earthly Cosmos; beneath him, in the earthly realm, a world whose true essence is hidden from him. But in between, the free ‘I’ manifests itself, its essence radiating out in the full light of knowledge and of free volition.

[ 6 ] It is different in the sleeping state. In sleep, man lives in his astral body and Ego in the germinating life of the Earth. The strongest ‘urge into new life’ is there in the environment of man in dreamless sleep. His dreams too are permeated by this life, though not so intensely as to prevent him from experiencing them in a kind of semi-consciousness. Gazing half consciously upon his dreams, man witnesses the creative forces whereby he himself is woven out of the Cosmos. Even while the dream lights up, the Astral—kindling man to life—becomes visible as it flows into the etheric body. In this lighting-up of dreams, Thought is still alive. It is only after man wakens that Thought is gathered up into the forces whereby it dies and becomes a shadow.

[ 7 ] This connection between our dream-conceptions and our waking thoughts is of the greatest significance. Man thinks within the sphere of those very forces whereby he grows and lives. Yet he cannot become a thinker until these forces die.

[ 8 ] At this point there dawns in us a true understanding of why it is that man takes hold of the reality of things in Thought. For in his thoughts he possesses the dead picture of that which, working from the fully living reality of the world, builds and creates him.

[ 9 ] It is the dead picture. But this dead picture proceeds from the work of the greatest painter—from the very Cosmos. It is true that the life remains out of it. If it did not, the Ego of man could not unfold. Nevertheless, the full content of the Universe, in all its greatness, is contained within this picture.

[ 10 ] So far as was possible at that time and in that context, I indicated this inner relation of Thought and World-reality in my ‘Philosophy of Freedom.’ It is in the passage of that book where I say that there is indeed a bridge leading from the thinking Ego's depths to the depths of Nature's reality.

[ 11 ] Sleep extinguishes the ordinary consciousness because it carries us into the germinating life of Earth—the Earth as it springs forth into the new, living Macrocosm. When the extinction is overcome by Imaginative consciousness, there stands before the human soul—not a sharply outlined Earth in mineral, plant and animal kingdoms of Nature—but a vital process, kindled to life within this Earth and flaming forth into the Macrocosm.

[ 12 ] It is thus: In the waking state man must lift himself with his own Ego-being out of the being of the world, in order to attain to free self-consciousness. And in sleep he unites with the being of the world once more.

[ 13 ] Such is the rhythm in the present moment of cosmic time the rhythm of man's earthly existence outside the inner being of the world while he experiences his own being in consciousness, and of his existence within the inner being of the world where the consciousness of his own being is extinguished.

[ 14 ] In the condition between death and a new birth, the human Ego lives within the Beings of the Spirit-world. Then, everything that was withdrawn from man's consciousness during his waking life on Earth comes into it again. The macrocosmic forces emerge from their full state of life in a far distant past to their dead and dying nature in the present. And there emerge the earthly forces—the seed of the new living macrocosm. Then the human being looks into his sleeping states as clearly as in his earthly life he looks forth upon the Earth that glistens in the sunlight.

[ 15 ] The Macrocosm, as it is today, has indeed become a thing of death. Yet it is through this alone that between death and a new birth man can undergo a life which signifies, compared to the waking life on Earth, a loftier awakening. For it is indeed an awakening, whereby he becomes able fully to control the forces that light up so dimly and fleetingly in dreams. These forces fill the Cosmos, they are all-pervading. From them the human being derives the impulses through which, as he descends on to the Earth, he forms his body—the greatest work-of-art of the Macrocosm.

[ 16 ] That which lights up so dimly in the dream—deserted, as it were, by the clear light of the sun—lives in the Spirit-world where the spiritual Sun flows through and through it, and where it waits until the Beings of the Hierarchies or man himself shall summon it to the creation of a new existence.

Further Leading Thoughts issued from the Goetheanum for the Anthroposophical Society

[ 17 ] 156. In Waking life, to experience himself in full and free Self-consciousness, man must forego the conscious experience of Reality in its true form, both in his existence and in that of Nature. Out of the ocean of Reality he lifts himself, that in his shadowed Thoughts he may make his own ‘I’ his very own in consciousness.

[ 18 ] 157. In Sleep, man lives with the life of his environment of Earth, but this very life extinguishes his consciousness of Self.

[ 19 ] 158. In Dreaming, there flickers up into half-consciousness the potent World-existence out of which the being of man is woven and from which, in his descent from Spirit-world, he builds his body. In earthly life this World-existence with its potent forces is put to death in man; it dies into the shadows of his Thought. For only so can it become the basis of self-conscious Manhood.

It may seem strange to some, if an anthroposophist, of all people, feels himself called upon to speak of practical training in thought. For people very often imagine Anthroposophy to be something highly unpractical, having nothing whatever to do with real life. That is because they look at the thing externally and superficially. In reality, what we are concerned with in the anthroposophical movement is intended as a guide for everyday life, for the most matter-of-fact affairs of life. We should be able to transform it at every moment into a sure sense and feeling, enabling us to meet life confidently and find our footing in the world.

People who call themselves practical imagine that their actions are guided by the most practical principles. When you look into the matter closely, you will, however, frequently discover that what they call their practical way of thinking is not thinking at all, but the mere “jogging along” with old opinions and acquired habits of thought. You will often find there is very little that is really practical behind it. What they call practical consists in this: they have learned how their teachers, or their predecessors in business, thought about the matter in hand, and then they simply take the same line. Anyone who thinks along different lines they regard as a very unpractical person. In effect, his thinking does not accord with the habits to which they have been brought up. In cases where something really practical has been invented, you will not generally find that it was done by any of the “practical” people.

Take for instance our present postage stamp. Surely the most obvious thing would be to suppose that it was invented by a practical post-office official. But it was not. At the beginning of last century it was a very long and troublesome business to post a letter. You had to go to the office where letters were posted, and various books had to be referred to; in short, there were all manner of complicated proceedings. It is hardly more than sixty years since the uniform postal rate to which we are now accustomed was introduced. And our postage stamp, which makes this simple arrangement possible, was invented, not by a practical man in the postal service, but by a complete outsider. It was the Englishman, Rowland Hill. When the postage stamp had been invented, the Minister who had to do with the Postal Department said in the English Parliament: In the first place, we can by no means assume that as a result of this simplification postal communication will really increase so enormously as this unpractical man imagines; and secondly, even assuming that it did, the main Post Office in London would not be big enough to hold it.

It never dawned on this very practical man that the Post Office building ought to be adapted to the amount of correspondence, and not the amount of correspondence to the building. Yet in what was, comparatively speaking, the shortest imaginable time, the thing was carried out. One of the unpractical people had to fight for it against a practical man. To-day we take it as a matter of course that letters are sent with a postage stamp.

It was similar in the case of the railways. In the year 1887, when the first German railway was to be constructed between Nuremberg and Fürth, the Bavarian College of Medicine, being consulted, pronounced the following expert opinion. In the first place, they said, it was inadvisable to build railways at all; if, however, it were intended to do so, it would at any rate be necessary to erect a high wall of wooden planks to the left and right of the line, in order that passers-by might not suffer from nerve and brain shock.

When the line from Potsdam to Berlin had to be built, the Postmaster-General Stengler said: I send two mail coaches a day to Potsdam and they are not full up; if these people are bent on wasting their money, they might as well throw it out of the window without more ado.

In effect, the real facts of life leave the “practical” people behind, or rather they leave behind those who so fondly call themselves practical.

We have to distinguish true thinking from the so-called practical thinking, which merely consists in opinions based on the habits of thought in which people have been brought up.

I will tell you a little experience of my own, and make it a starting-point for our considerations to-day.

In my undergraduate days, a young colleague once came to me. He was bubbling over with that intense pleasure which you may observe in people who have just had 'a really brilliant idea. “I am on my way,” he said, “to see Professor X. (who at that time occupied the chair in Machine Construction), for I have made a wonderful discovery. I have discovered a machine whereby it will be possible by the use of a very little steam-power to exert an enormous amount of work.” That was all he could tell me, for he was in a tremendous hurry to go to see the Professor. However, he did not find him at home, so he came back and set to work to explain the matter to me. Of course, from the very start the whole thing had sounded to me suspiciously like perpetual motion; but, after all, why shouldn't such a thing be possible one fine day? So I listened; and after he had gone through the whole explanation, I had to answer: “Yes, it is certainly very cleverly thought out; but you see, in practice it surely comes to this. It's as though you were to get into a railway truck and push tremendously hard, and imagine that the truck would thereby begin to move. That is the principle of thought in your invention?” And then he saw that it was so, and he did not go to see the Professor again.

That is how it is possible to shut oneself up, as it were, in one's thought. People put themselves in a neat little box with their thought. In rare cases this is perfectly evident; but people are continually doing it in life, and it is not always so clear and striking as in the instance we have taken. One who is able to look into the matter a little more intimately knows that this is the way with a great many human processes of thought. He constantly sees people standing, as it were, in their truck, pushing from the inside, and imagining that it is they who are propelling it.

Much of what happens in life would happen altogether differently if people were not such pushers, standing in their trucks!

True practice of thought requires us in the first place to have the right attitude of mind, the right feeling about thought. How can we gain this? No one can come to a right feeling about thought who imagines that thought is something which merely takes place within man, inside his head, or in his mind or soul. Anyone who starts with this idea will have a wrong feeling, and will continually be diverted from the search for a truly practical way of thought. He will fail to make the necessary demands on his thinking activity. To acquire the right feeling towards thought, he must rather say to himself: “If I am able to make myself thoughts about the things, if I am able to get at the things through thoughts, then the things must already contain the thoughts within them. The thoughts must be there in the very plan and structure of the things. Only so can I draw the thoughts out of them.”

Man must say to himself that it is the same with the things in the world outside as with a watch. The comparison of the human organism to a watch is frequently used, but people often forget the most important thing. They forget the watchmaker. The cogs and wheels did not run together and join up of their own accord and set the watch in motion, but there was a watchmaker there first, to construct the watch. We must not forget the watchmaker. It is through thoughts that the watch has come into being. The thoughts have, as it were, flowed out into the watch, into the external object. And this is the way in which we must think of all the works of nature of all the natural creation, and of all natural processes. It can easily be illustrated in a thing that is human creation: in the things of nature it is not quite so easy to perceive. And yet they too are works of the spirit; behind them are spiritual beings.

When man thinks about things, he is only thinking after, he is only re-thinking, that which has first been laid into them. We must believe that the world has been created by thought and is still in continual process of creation by thought. This belief, and this alone, can give birth to a really fruitful inner practice of thought.

It is always unbelief in the spiritual content of the world that underlies the greatest impracticality of thought. This is true in the sphere of science itself. For example, some one will say, our planetary system came about as follows: “First there was a primeval nebula. It began to rotate, drew together into one central body from which rings and spheres split off, and by this mechanical process the whole planetary system came into being.” People who speak like that are making a grave error in thought. They have a pretty way of teaching it to the children nowadays. There is a neat little experiment which they show in many schools. They float a drop of oil in a glass of water, stick a pin through the middle of the drop and then set it in rotation. Thereupon little drops split off from the big drop in the middle, and you have a minute planetary system. A nice little object lesson, so they think, to show the pupil how such a thing can come about in a purely mechanical way.

Only an unpractical way of thinking can draw this conclusion from the experiment. For the man who transplants the idea to the great cosmic planetary system generally forgets just one thing—which at other times it is perhaps quite good to forget—he forgets himself. He forgets that he himself, after all, set the thing in rotation. If he had not been there and done the whole thing, the drop of oil would never have split off the little drops. If the man would observe that too, and transfer the idea to the planetary system, then, and then only, would his thought be complete.

Such errors in thought play a very great part to-day—and they do so especially in what is now called science. These things are far more important than people generally imagine.

If we would make our thinking practical, we must first know that thoughts can only be drawn from a world in which thoughts already are. Just as you can only draw water from a glass that does really contain water, so you can only draw thoughts from things that already contain thoughts. The world is built up by thoughts, and it is only for that reason that we can gain thoughts from the world. If it were not so, then there could be no such thing as a practice of thought at all. When a man really feels what has here been said, and feels it to the full, then he will easily transcend the stage of abstract thinking. When a man has full confidence and faith that behind things there are thoughts, that the real facts of life take place according to thoughts—when he has this confidence and feeling, then he will readily be converted to a practice of thought that is founded on reality.

We will now set forth some elements of practice in thought. If you are penetrated by the belief that the world of facts takes its course in thoughts, you will admit how important it is to develop true thinking.

Let us assume that someone says to himself: “I want to strengthen my thought, so that it may find its true bearings at every point in life.” He must then take guidance from what will now be said. The indications that will now be given are to be taken as real practical principles—principles such, that if you try again and again and again to guide your thought accordingly, definite results will follow. Your thinking will become practical, even though it may not appear so at first sight. Indeed, if you carry out these principles, you will have altogether fresh experiences in your life of thought.

Let us assume that someone makes the following experiment. On a certain day he carefully observes some process in the world which is accessible to him, which he can observe quite accurately—say, for example, the appearance of the sky. He observes the cloud formations in the evening, the way in which the sun went down. And now he makes a distinct and accurate mental image of what he has observed.

He tries to hold it fast for a time in all its details. He holds fast as much of it as he can, and tries to keep it till the following day. On the morrow, about the same time, or even at another time of day, he again observes the appearance of the sky and the weather, and he tries once more to form an exact mental image of it.

If in this way he forms clear mental images of successive conditions, he will soon perceive with extraordinary distinctness that he is enriching his thought and making it inwardly intense. For what makes a man's thought unpractical is the fact that in observing successive processes in the world he is generally too much inclined to leave out the actual details and to retain only a vague and confused picture in his mind. The essential, the valuable thing for strengthening our thought is to form exact pictures above all in the case of successive processes and then to say to ourselves: “Yesterday the thing was so; to-day it is so.” And in doing this we must bring before our minds the two pictures which are separated in the real world, as graphically, as vividly as possible.

To begin with, this exercise is simply a particular expression of our belief that the thoughts are there in reality. We are not immediately to draw some conclusion—to conclude from what we observe to-day what the weather and the sky will be like tomorrow. That would only corrupt our thinking. No, we must have faith that outside in the reality of things they have their connection, and that tomorrow's process is somehow connected with to-day's. We are not to speculate about it, but first of all to think, in mental images as clear as possible, the scenes which in the external world are separated in time. We place the two pictures side by side before our minds, and then let the one gradually change into the other.

This is a definite principle which must be followed if we would develop a truly objective way of thinking. It is especially valuable to take this line with things which we do not yet understand, where we have not yet penetrated the inner connection. Particularly with those processes—the sky and the weather, for example—which we do not understand at all, we must have the belief that, as they are connected in the outside world, so will they work their connections within us. And we must do it simply in mental pictures, refraining from thought. We must say to ourselves: “I do not yet know the connection, but I will let these things grow and evolve within me, and if I refrain from all speculation, I am sure they will be working something within me.”

You will not find it difficult to imagine that something may take place in the invisible vehicles of a human being who, refraining from thought in this way, strives to call forth clear mental images of processes and events that succeed one another in time in the outer world. Man has an astral body as the vehicle of his life of thought and ideation. So long as he speculates, this astral body of man is the slave of his Ego. But it is not completely involved in this conscious activity, for it also stands in relation to the whole Universe. Now as we refrain from giving play to our own arbitrary trains of thought, and simply form in ourselves mental images, clear pictures of successive events, in like measure will the inner thoughts of the universe work in us and impress themselves upon our astral body, without our knowing it. As, by observation of the processes in the world, we fit ourselves to enter into the world's course, and as we take its scenes and pictures into our thoughts clearly and faithfully in their reality and let them work in us, so do we become ever wiser and wiser in those vehicles and members of our being that are outside our consciousness.

So it is with processes in nature that are inwardly connected. When we are able to let the one picture change into the other just as the change took place in nature, we shall soon perceive, that our thought is gaining a certain flexibility and strength.

That is how we should proceed with things that we do not yet understand. For things that we do understand—events, for example, that take place around us in our daily life—our attitude should be slightly different.

For instance, someone—your neighbour, perhaps—has done something or other. You consider: Why did he do it? You come to the conclusion: Perhaps he did it in preparation for such and such a thing that he intends to do tomorrow. Very well; do not go on speculating, but try to sketch out a picture of what you think he will do tomorrow. You imagine to yourself: That is what he will do tomorrow; and now you wait and see what he really does. It may be on the following day you will observe that he really does what you imagined. Or it may be that he does something different. You observe what really happens and try to correct your thoughts accordingly.

Thus we select events in the present which we follow out in thought into the future, and we wait and see what actually happens. We can do this with the actions of men, and with many other things. Where we feel that we understand a thing, we try to form a picture of what, in our opinion, will take place. If it does take place as we expected, our thinking was correct; that is good. If what happens is different from what we expected, then we try to think where we made the mistake. Thus we try to correct our wrong thoughts by quiet observation, by examining where the mistake lay, and why it was that it happened as it did.

If, however, we were right, then we must be careful to avoid the danger of mere self-congratulation and boasting of our prophecy: “Oh yes, I knew that was going to happen, yesterday.”

Here again you have a method based on the belief that there is an inner necessity lying in the things and events themselves—that there is something in the facts themselves which drives them forward. The forces working in things, working on from one day to the next, are forces of thought. If we dive down into the things, then we become conscious of these thought-forces. By such exercises we make them present to our consciousness. When what we foresaw is fulfilled, we are in attunement with them. Then we are in an inner relationship to the real thought-activity of the thing itself.

Thus we accustom ourselves not to think arbitrarily, but to take our thought from the inner necessity, the inner nature of things.

There is yet another direction in which we can train our practice of thought.

An event that happens to-day is also related to things that happened yesterday. For example, a child has been naughty. What can have caused it? You follow the events back to the previous day, you construct the causes which you do not know. You say to yourself: “I fancy that this thing which has happened to-day was led up to by such and such things yesterday or the day before.”

You then make inquiries and find out what really happened, and so discover whether your thought was correct. If you have found the real cause, then it is well; but if you have formed a wrong idea of it, then you must try to see the mistake clearly. You consider how your thought-process developed, and how it took place in reality, and compare the one with the other.

It is very important to carry out such principles and methods. We must find time to observe things in this way—as though with our thinking we were in the things themselves. We must dive down into the things, into their inner thought-activity.

If we do so, we shall gradually perceive how we are entering into the very life of things. We no longer have the feeling that the things are outside, and we are here in our shell, thinking about them; but we begin to feel how our thought is living and moving in the things themselves. To a man who has attained this in a high degree, a new world opens up. Such a man was Goethe. He was a thinker who was always in the things with his thoughts. In 1826 the psychologist Heinroth said in his book, Anthropology, that Goethe's was an objective thinking. Goethe was delighted with this description. Heinroth meant that Goethe's thought did not separate itself off from the things or objects; it remained in the objects, it lived and moved in the necessity of things. Goethe's thought was at the same time contemplation; his contemplation, his looking at things, was at the same time thought.

Goethe developed this way of thinking to a high degree. More than once it happened, when he was intending to go out for some purpose or other, that he went to the window and said to whoever happened to be by: “In three hours it will rain”—and so it did. From the little segment of the sky which was visible from his window he could tell what would happen in the weather in the next few hours. His true thought, remaining in the things, enabled him to sense the later events that were already preparing in the preceding ones.

Far more can be achieved by practical thinking than is generally imagined. We have described certain principles of thought. A man who makes them his own will discover that his thought is really becoming practical. His vision widens, and he grasps the things of the world quite differently than before. Little by little his attitude to things, and also to other human beings, will become different. A real process takes place in him, one that alters his whole conduct of life. It can be of immense importance for a man to try to grow into the things with his thought in this way. In the fullest sense of the word it is a practical undertaking to train our thinking by such exercises.

There is another exercise which is particularly valuable for people who fail to get the right idea at the right moment.

Such people should try, above all, to think not merely in the way suggested by every passing moment. They should not merely give themselves up to what the ordinary course of things brings with it. When a man has half an hour to lie down and rest, it nearly always happens that he simply gives his thoughts free play. They spin out in a thousand different directions. Or perhaps his life is just occupied by some special worry. Suddenly it flies into his consciousness, and he is completely absorbed in it. If a man lets things happen in this way, he will never arrive at the point where the right thing occurs to him at the right moment. If he wants to succeed in this, he must do as follows. When he has half an hour to lie down and rest, he must say to himself: “Now that I have time, I will think about something which I myself will choose—something which I bring into my consciousness by my own will and choice. For example, I will think about something that I experienced at some earlier date—say on a walk two years ago. I will bring it into my thought and think about it for a certain time—say even only for five minutes. All other things—away with them for these five minutes! I myself will choose what I am going to think about.”

The choice need not even be as difficult as the one I have just suggested. The point is, not that you try to work upon your processes of thought by difficult exercises to begin with, but that you tear yourself away from all you are involved in by your ordinary life. You must choose something right outside the web of interests into which you are woven by your everyday existence. And if you suffer from lack of inspiration, if nothing else occurs to you at the moment, then you can have recourse, say, to a book. Open it, and think about whatever you happen to read on the first page which catches your eye. Or, you say to yourself: “Now I will think about what I saw at a certain time this morning just as I was going into the office.” Only it must be something to which in the ordinary course you would have paid no further attention. It must be something beside the ordinary run of things, something you would otherwise not have thought about at all.

If you carry on such exercises systematically and repeat them again and again, the result will soon be to cure you of your lack of inspiration. You will get the right idea at the right moment. Your thought will become mobile, which is immensely important for a man in practical life.

Another exercise is especially adapted to work on the memory.

First you try to remember some event—say, an event of yesterday—in the crude way in which one generally remembers things. For, as a rule, people have the greyest of grey recollections of things. As a rule you are satisfied if you only remember the name of someone you met yesterday. But if you want to develop your power of memory you must no longer be satisfied with that. You must set to work systematically and say to yourself: “I will now recall the person I saw yesterday, clearly and distinctly. I will recall the surroundings, the particular corner at which I saw him. I will sketch out the picture in detail; I will have an accurate mental image of what he was wearing—his coat, his waistcoat, and so on.” Most people, when they try this exercise, will discover that they are quite unable to do it. They will notice how very much is missing from the picture. They are unable to call up a graphic idea of what they actually experienced on the previous day.

In the vast majority of cases it is so; and this is the condition from which we must start. As a matter of fact, people's observation is generally most inaccurate. An experiment which a University Professor made with his class showed that, of thirty people who were present, only two had observed a thing correctly; the other twenty-eight had it wrong. But good memory is the child of faithful observation. To develop our memory, the important thing is that we should observe accurately. By dint of faithful observation we can acquire a good memory. Through certain inner paths of the soul a true memory is born of a good habit of observation.

Now suppose that, to begin with, you find you are unable to call to mind, exactly, something that you experienced on the previous day. What is the next thing to do? Begin by remembering the thing as accurately as possible; and where your memory fails you, try to fill in the gaps by imagining something which is, probably, incorrect. For instance, if you have absolutely forgotten whether a person you met had on a grey coat or a black one, then imagine him in a grey coat, and say to yourself that he had such and such buttons to his waistcoat, and a yellow tie; and then you fill in the surroundings—a yellow wall, a tall man passing on the left, a short man on the right, and so forth.

Whatever you remember, put it in the picture, and then fill it in arbitrarily with the things you do not remember. Only try to have a complete picture before your mind. The picture will, of course, be incorrect, but by the effort to gain a complete picture you will be stimulated to observe more accurately in the future. Continue doing such exercises—and when you have done them fifty times, then the fifty-first time you will know exactly what the person you met looked like and what he had on. You will remember exactly, to the very waistcoat-buttons. You will no longer overlook anything, but every detail will impress itself upon your mind. By this exercise you will first have sharpened your powers of observation, and in addition you will have gained a truer memory, which is the child of accurate observation.

It is especially valuable to pay attention to this. Do not merely content yourself with remembering the names and the main outlines of things, but try to get mental images as graphic as possible, including the real details; and where your memory fails you, fill in the picture and make it whole. You will soon see—though it seems to come in a roundabout way—that your memory is becoming more faithful.

Clear directions can thus be given, whereby a man can make his thought ever more and more practical.

There is another thing of great importance. Man has a certain craving to reach a definite result when he is considering some line of action. He turns it over in his mind, how should he do the thing, and comes to a definite conclusion. We can well understand this impulse; but it does not lead to a practical way of thinking. Every time we hurry our thought on, we are going backward and not forward. Patience is necessary in these things.

For example: there is something you have to do. It is possible to do it in one way or in another; there may be various possibilities. Now have patience; try to imagine exactly what would happen if you did it in this way, and then try to imagine what would happen if you did it in that way.

Of course, there will always be reasons for preferring the one course of action to the other. But now refrain from making up your mind at once. Try, instead, to sketch out the two possibilities, and then say to yourself: “Now that's done—now I will stop thinking about it.”

At this point many people will become fidgety, and that is a difficult thing to overcome. But it is no less valuable to overcome it. Say to yourself: “The thing is possible in this way and in that way, and now for a time I will think no more about it.” If the circumstances permit, defer your action to the next day, and then once more bring the two possibilities before your mind. You will find that in the meantime the things have changed, and that on the following day you are able to decide quite differently—far more thoroughly, at any rate, than you would have done the day before.

There is an inner necessity in the things themselves, and if we do not act impatiently and arbitrarily, but let this inner necessity work in us—and it will work in us—then it will enrich our thought. And our thought, being thus enriched, will appear again the next day and enable us to form a more correct decision. That is immensely valuable.

Or to take another example: someone asks your advice about some point that has to be decided. Do not burst in with your decision straight away, but have the patience to lay the various possibilities before your own mind quietly and to form no conclusion on your own account. Let the different possibilities hold sway. An old proverb says: “Sleep on it before deciding”—but sleeping on it is not enough. It is necessary to think over two or even more possibilities (if there are more than two, so much the better). These possibilities work on in us, when we ourselves, so to speak, are not there with our conscious Ego. Later on, we return to the thing. We shall see that by this means we are calling to life inner forces of thought, and that our thinking grows ever more practical and to the point.

Whatever it is that a man is seeking to find, it is there in the world. Whether he stands at the lathe or behind the plough, or whether he belongs to the so-called privileged classes and professions, if he does these exercises, he will become a practical thinker in the most everyday affairs of life. Practising his thought in this way, he begins to look at the things in the world with a new vision. And though these exercises may at first sight appear ever so inward and remote from external life, it is precisely for external life that they are so useful. They entail the greatest imaginable significance for the external world; they have important consequences.

I will give you an example to show how necessary it is to think about things practically. A man climbed a tree and was doing something or other up above; suddenly he fell down and was dead. The thought that lies nearest at hand is that he was killed by the fall. Most probably, people will say: “The fall was the cause, and his death the result.” Such is the apparent connection between cause and effect. But this conclusion may involve an utter inversion of the facts. For it may be that he had a fatal heart attack, and fell down as a consequence. Exactly the same thing happened as though he had fallen down alive. He went through the same external processes that might really have been the cause of his death. So it is possible to make a complete inversion of cause and effect.

In this example the fault is very evident, but often it is not so striking. Such mistakes in thought occur very frequently. Indeed, it must be said that in modern Science conclusions of this kind are drawn day by day, with a complete reversal of cause and effect. It is only not perceived because people fail to put before them the possibilities of thought.

One more example may be given, to show you as vividly as possible how such mistakes in thought come about, and how they will no longer happen to a man who has done the kind of exercises which have here been indicated.

A learned scientist says to himself that man, as he is to-day, is descended from an ape. That is to say, what I learn to know in the ape—the forces at work in the ape—evolve to greater perfection and so result in the human being. Now in order to indicate the significance of this as thought, let us make the following supposition. Suppose that by some circumstance the man who will propound this theory be placed on the earth alone. There are no other human beings around him; there are only those apes of which the said theory declares that human beings can originate from them. Let him now make an accurate study of them. Entering into the minutest detail, he forms a conception of what there is in the ape. Albeit he has never seen a man, let him now try to develop the concept of a man out of his concept of an ape. He will see that he cannot. His concept “ape” will never transform into the concept “man.”

If he had right habits of thought, he would say to himself: “I see that the concept of an ape will not transform itself within me into the concept of a man. Therefore what I perceive in the ape is also not capable of becoming man, for if it were, the same power of evolution would be latent in the concept. Something more must come in, something that I am unable to perceive.” Thus, behind the visible ape, he would have to imagine something invisible and super-sensible—something which he could not perceive, but which alone would make the transformation into man a possible conception.

The impossibility of the whole thing need not here concern us; we only wanted to reveal the faulty thinking which lies behind that theory. If the man's thinking were right, he would be led to the conclusion that he could not think the theory at all without postulating something super-sensible.

If you consider it, you will readily see that in this matter a whole succession of thinkers have committed a grave error. Such errors will no longer be committed by one who trains his thinking in the way here indicated.

A large proportion of modern literature (and particularly of the scientific literature) is positively painful to read, for a man who is able to think rightly. Its crooked, perverted ways of thought are distressing to have to follow. In saying this, we are by no means depreciating the wealth of observation and discovery that has been accumulated by modern Natural Science with its objective methods.

All this has to do with short-sightedness of thought. It is a fact that men seldom know how very little to the point their thinking is, and to what a large extent it is the result of mere habits of thought. And so, one who penetrates the world and life will judge differently from one who lacks this penetration, or who has it only to a very small degree—a materialistic thinker, for example. It is not easy to convince people by grounds and arguments, however good, however genuine. It is often a thankless task to try to convince by grounds and reasoned arguments a man who knows little of life. For he simply does not see the reasons which make this or that statement possible. If, for instance, he has grown used to see nothing but matter in things, he simply adheres to this habit of thought.

As a rule it is not the alleged reasons which lead people to their statements. Beneath and behind the reasons, it is the habits of thought which they have acquired, and which determine their whole way of feeling. While they put forward reasons, they are only masking feelings that are instinctive with thoughts that are habitual. Thus often, not only is the wish father to the thought, but all the feelings and habits and ways of thinking are parents of the thoughts. A man who knows life, knows how little possibility there is of convincing people by logical grounds and arguments. That which decides in the soul is far deeper than the logical reasons.

And so there is good reason for this anthroposophical movement, working on in its different groups and branches. Everyone who works in this movement will presently perceive that he has acquired a new way of thinking and feeling about things. For by our work in the groups we are not only finding the logical reasons for this and that; we are acquiring a wider mental outlook, a deeper and more far-reaching way of feeling.

How, for example, did a man scoff a few years ago, when he heard a lecture on Spiritual Science for the first time! And to-day, perhaps, how many things are clear and transparent to him, which a short time ago he would have considered highly absurd! By working in this anthroposophical movement we not only transform our thoughts; we learn to bring all our life of soul into a wider perspective.

We must understand that the colouring of our thoughts has its origin far deeper than is generally imagined. It is the feelings which frequently impel a man to hold certain opinions. The logical reasons he puts forward are often a mere screen, a mask for his deeper feelings and habits of thought.

To bring ourselves to the point where logical reasons really mean something to us, we must first learn to love the logic in things. Only when we have learned to love what is real and objective, only then will the logical reasons be the decisive thing for us. We gradually learn to think objectively—independently, as it were, of our affections for this thought or that. Then our vision widens and we become practical—not in the sense of those who can only think on along the accustomed lines, but practical in the sense that we learn to draw our thoughts from out of the things themselves.

Practical life is born of objective thinking—that thinking which flows out of the things themselves. It is only by carrying out such exercises that we learn to take our thoughts from the things. And these exercises must be done with sound and healthy things—things that are least perverted by human civilisation—things of Nature.

Practising our thought as here described in connection with the things of Nature, will make us practical thinkers. This is a really practical thing to do. And we shall take hold of the most everyday occupations in a practical way, if once we train this fundamental element in life: our thinking. A practical frame of mind, a practical way of thinking, forms itself, when we exercise the human soul in the way here indicated.

The spiritual-scientific movement must bear fruit: it must place really practical men and women out into the world. It is less important for a man to feel able to accept the truth of this or that teaching. It is more important that he should develop the faculty for seeing things and penetrating things correctly. It is not a matter of theorising away beyond the things visible to the senses,—spinning theories into the spiritual realm. Far more important is the way in which Anthroposophy penetrates our soul, stimulates our activity of soul, widens our vision. It is in this that Anthroposophy is truly practical.

The First Sign

In a consideration of the Gospel of St. John, we should never lose sight of that most important point which was brought out in the lecture yesterday namely, that in the original writer of the Gospel we have to do with the “Beloved Disciple,” initiated by Christ-Jesus Himself. One might naturally ask if, aside from occult knowledge, there exists, perhaps, some external proof of this statement by means of which the writer of this Gospel has intimated that he came to a higher order of knowledge about the Christ through the “raising,” through the initiation which is represented in the so-called miracle of the raising of Lazarus. If you will read the Gospel of St. John carefully, you will observe, that nowhere previous to that chapter which treats of the raising of Lazarus is there any mention of the “Disciple whom the Lord loved.” In other words, the real author of the Gospel wishes to say: What precedes this chapter does not yet have its origin in the knowledge which I have received through initiation, therefore in the beginning you must disregard me. Only later does he mention the “Disciple whom the Lord loved.” Thus the Gospel falls into two important parts, the first part in which the Disciple whom the Lord loved is not yet mentioned because he had not yet been initiated, and that part which comes after the raising of Lazarus in which this Disciple is mentioned. Nowhere in the document itself will you find any contradictions of what I have presented in the previous lectures. Naturally, anyone who considers the Gospel only superficially will easily pass this by, will not notice it and at the present time when everything is popularized, when all manner of knowledge is forced upon us, we can often experience as an extraordinary spectacle much of a very doubtful character in this knowledge.

Who would not consider it a blessing if all kinds of knowledge could be brought to the people through such inexpensive literature as the Reclam'sche Universal Bibliothek. Among the last volumes, one has appeared on the Origin of the Bible. The author entitles himself a Doctor of Theology. He is, then, a theologian! He believes that throughout all the chapters of the Gospel of St. John, from the 35th verse of the 1st Chapter, John, the author of the Gospel, is the one referred to. When this little book came into my hands, I really could not believe my eyes and said to myself: there must be something very extraordinary under consideration here that repudiates all previous occult points of view that the Beloved Disciple is not mentioned before the “raising of Lazarus.” Still, a theologian ought to know! In order not to pass judgment too quickly, take up the Gospel of St. John and see for yourselves what stands there: “Again the next day after, John stood and two of his disciples.” Here John the Baptist and two of his disciples are spoken of. The most generous point of view that one can take toward this theologian is that his consciousness was filled with an ancient exoteric tradition which declares that John, the author of the Gospel, is one of these two disciples. This tradition is supported by Matthew IV 21. But, the Gospel of St. John cannot be explained by means of the other Gospels. A theologian therefore was responsible for introducing into popular literature a very harmful book. And if one knows how such a thing which is brought to the people in just this way continues to spread, it is possible to measure the harm which arises out of it. This is just an interpellation, in order that a certain protective wall may be erected against all kinds of objections which might perhaps be brought forward in refutation of what has been said here.

Now let us hold in mind that what preceded the “raising of Lazarus” is a communication of weighty matters, but that the writer has reserved the most profound matters for the chapters subsequent to that event. Nevertheless, he wished throughout to indicate that the content of his Gospel is something which will be thoroughly understood only by one who has attained a certain degree of initiation. Therefore he indicates in various passages that what is communicated in the first chapters has to do with a certain kind and degree of initiation. You already know that there are different degrees of initiation. For example, in a certain form of oriental initiation, seven degrees can be distinguished and these seven degrees were designated by all sorts of symbolical names. The first was the degree of the “Raven,” the second that of the ”Occultist,” the third of the “Warrior,” the fourth that of the “Lion.” Amongst different peoples, who still felt a kind of blood relationship as the expression of their group-soul, the fifth degree was designated by the name of the folk itself; thus among the Persians, for example, an initiate of the fifth degree was called in an occult sense, a “Persian.” When we understand what these names signify, then the justification of these titles will soon be evident.

An initiate of the first degree is one who constitutes an intermediary between the hidden and the outer life, one who is sent from place to place. In this first degree the neophyte must devote himself with complete resignation to the outer life, but what he ascertains there, he must bring back into the Mystery Places. One speaks of the “Raven” when words have something to communicate to the inner world of the Mystery Places from the world outside. Just call to mind the ravens of Elias, or the ravens of Wotan, even the ravens of the Barbarossa Saga, that had to discover when it was time to come forth. The initiate of the second degree stood fully within the occult life. One who was of the third degree was allowed to defend occult knowledge. The degree of the “Warrior” does not mean one who fights, but one who defends occult teaching, what the occult life has to give. One who is a “Lion” embodies the occult life within himself in such a way that he defends occultism, not only in words, but also in acts, that is, with deeds of a magical sort. The sixth degree is that of the “Sun-hero” and the seventh that of the “Father.” The fifth degree is the one we shall now consider.

The human being of ancient times was especially a part of his community and therefore when he was conscious of his ego, he felt himself more as a member of a group-soul than as an individual. But the initiate of the fifth degree had made a certain sacrifice, had so far stripped off his own personality that he took the folk-soul into his own being. While other men felt their souls within the folk-soul, he took the folk-soul into his own being, and this was because all that belonged to his personality was of no importance to him but only the common folk-spirit. Therefore an initiate of this kind was called by the name of his particular folk.

Now we know that in the Gospel of St. John it is said that Nathaniel also was one of the first disciples of Christ-Jesus. He was brought before the Christ. He is not so highly developed that he is able to comprehend the Christ. The Christ is, of course, the Spirit of all-inclusive Knowledge which cannot be fathomed by a Nathaniel, an initiate of the fifth degree. But the Christ could fathom Nathaniel. This was shown by two facts.

How did Christ designate him? “This man is a true Israelite!” Here we have the designation according to the name of the folk. Just as among the Persians, an initiate of the fifth degree is called a Persian, so among the Israelites, he is called an Israelite. Therefore Christ calls Nathaniel an Israelite. He then says to him: “Even before Philip called thee, when thou wast under the fig-tree, I saw thee!” That is a symbolical designation of an initiate like the Budha sitting under the Bodhi Tree. The fig-tree is a symbol of Egyptian-Chaldean initiation. He meant with these words: I well know that thou art an initiate of a certain degree, and canst perceive certain things, for I saw thee! Then Nathaniel recognized Him: “Rabbi, Thou art the Son of God; Thou art the King of Israel!” This word “King” signifies in this connection: Thou art one who is higher than I, otherwise thou couldst not say, “I saw thee when thou sattest under the fig-tree.” And Christ answered, “Thou believest in me because I said that I saw thee under the fig-tree: thou shalt see greater things than these.” The words “verily, verily” we shall speak about later. Then He said: “I say unto you, ye shall see the angels of Heaven ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.” Yet greater things than they had already seen would be seen by those who were able to recognize the Christ. Again, one may ask: What significant words are these?

In order to make this clear, let us call to mind what the human being really is. We have said that he is a different creature by day than by night. During the day his four human members, physical body, ether body, astral body, and ego are bound closely together. They react upon each other. We may say that when the human being is awake during the day, in a certain way his physical and etheric bodily parts are permeated and cared for by his astral and ego spiritual parts. But we have also shown that something else must be active within the etheric and physical bodily parts in order that the human being be able to exist at all in his present phase of evolution. For we have called attention to the fact that every night he draws out those members which care for this physical and ether body, namely, the astral body and ego, thus leaving his physical and ether bodies to their own fate. You all, as astral body and ego, faithlessly desert your physical and ether bodies every night. Hence you will see that Spiritual Science points out with a certain correctness that divine-spiritual powers and forces stream through the physical and ether bodies during the night so that they are, as it were, invested by these divine-spiritual forces and beings. We have also pointed out that when the astral body and ego were outside the physical and ether bodies in those periods which we call the Jahve or Jehova epochs, that Jehova was active as an inspirer. But it was the true Light, the Fullness of the Godhead or of the Elohim, the Pleroma, that was also constantly radiating through the physical and ether bodies. However, the human being, not having yet received the necessary impulse from the Christ-principle before the appearance of this Principle upon the earth, was not able to recognize it. Those principles which are to come to expression in the physical body, dwell in the higher spiritual regions of Devachan. The spiritual beings and powers which work upon the physical body are at home in the higher heavenly spheres, in higher Devachan, and those powers which work upon the ether body are in their own sphere in the lower heavenly realms. So we may say that in this physical body there are constantly active, beings from the highest regions of Devachan and in the ether body, beings from the lower devachanic regions are active. Men can recognize them only after having received the Impulse of the Christ into themselves. “If you truly understand the Son of Man, you will perceive how the spiritual forces descending from and ascending to the heavenly spheres work upon mankind. This you will know through the impulse which the Christ gives to the earth.”

What now follows, was mentioned in the lecture yesterday. The Marriage at Cana in Galilee is often called “the first of the miracles”—it were better to call it “the first sign” which Christ-Jesus made. Now in order that we may understand the stupendousness of the significance of the Marriage at Cana, we shall need to consider as a whole, much of what we have been hearing in the last lectures.

In the first place we have here a marriage—but why a marriage in Galilee? We shall understand why it is a marriage in Galilee if we call to mind once more the whole mission of the Christ. His mission consisted in bringing to mankind the full force of the ego, an inner independence in the soul. The individual ego should feel itself fully independent and separate, existing completely within itself and people should be united in marriage because of a love which they freely and voluntarily bestow upon one another. Through the Christ-Principle there should come into the earth-mission a love that would rise ever higher and higher above the material and constantly mount toward the Spirit. Love had its beginning in its lowest form which was bound up with the senses. In the earliest periods of human evolution, those who were bound together by the tie of blood loved each other and they made a great deal of the idea that love was based upon this material blood relationship.

The Christ came in order to spiritualize this love; in order, on the one hand, to loosen the bonds in which love had been entangled through the blood-relationship and on the other hand to give force and intensity to spiritual Love. Among the followers of the Old Testament we still see expressed most completely what we may call membership in the group-soul acting as the foundation of the individual ego within the Universal Ego. We have seen that the expression “I and Father Abraham are one” had a definite meaning for the adherents of the Old Testament. It meant that they felt themselves safe in the consciousness that that blood which ran through the veins of Father Abraham flowed on down even to themselves. Therefore they felt themselves secure within the whole and only those were considered members of the whole who came into being through human propagation maintained by means of this blood relationship. In the very beginning of human evolution upon the earth, marriage took place only within very narrow circles, within families related by blood. Endogamy, (marriage within the tribe) was closely adhered to. Then the narrow blood-circle gradually widened and men began to marry outside the family, but not yet within other peoples or folk. The folk of the Old Testament held fast to the idea that the folk blood relationship should be maintained. One is a “Jew” who in his blood is a Jew.

Christ Jesus did not advocate this principle. He appealed to those who had broken this principle of mere blood relationship, and the important thing He had to demonstrate, He demonstrated not in Judea, but outside in Galilee. Galilee was the region where peoples of every race and tribe had mixed together. The term Galilean means “mixed-breed,” “mongrel.” Christ Jesus went to the Galileans, to those who were most mixed. Out of a human reproduction such as this, brought about by a mingling of blood, something arose that was no longer dependent upon a physical basis of love. Therefore what He wished to say, was said at a marriage. But why at a marriage? Because at the time of a marriage reference can be made to the reproduction of human beings. And what He wished to demonstrate, He did not wish to show at a place where marriage took place within narrow boundaries, within the blood-bond, but where it was entered into independently of the tie of blood. Therefore what He had to say was said at a marriage—and at a marriage in Galilee. If we wish to understand what is expressed here, we must again turn our attention to the whole of human evolution.

It has often been said that for the occultist there is no such thing as the merely external, the purely material. All materiality is for him the expression of something of a soul-spirit nature, and just as your face is the expression of something of a soul-spirit nature, so too is the light of the sun the expression of a soul-spirit light. All that occurs apparently only in the material physical world is at the same time the expression of deeper spiritual processes. Occultism does not deny matter. For it, even the grossest matter is the expression of a soul-spirit something. Thus material facts correspond to the spiritual evolutionary processes of the world, always running parallel with them.

If in spirit we look back over human evolution to the time when mankind still lived upon an ancient Continent lying between Europe and America, upon ancient Atlantis, passing over from there into the later post-Atlantean period, we can see how generation after generation has at last led right up to ourselves. If we consider from the standpoint of race the whole significance of human evolution from the 4th to the 5th Root-race, we can see, as it were, that out of an Atlantean humanity, wholly or completely immersed in the group-soul, the individual ego of the human personality gradually evolved and slowly matured in the post-Atlantean period. What the Christ brought spiritually through His powerful spiritual impulse had to be prepared gradually through other impulses. What Jahve did was to implant the group-soul ego in the astral body and by gradually maturing it, prepare it for the reception of the fully independent “I AM.” But men could only comprehend this “I AM” when their physical body also became a fit instrument for sheltering It. You can easily imagine that the astral body might be ever so capable of receiving an ego, but if the physical body is not a fit instrument for truly comprehending the “I AM” with a waking consciousness then it is impossible to receive it. The physical body must also always be a suitable instrument for what is imprinted upon it here upon the earth. Therefore when the astral body had been matured, the physical body had to be prepared to become an instrument of the “I AM,” and this is what occurred in human evolution. We can follow the processes through which the physical body was prepared to become the bearer of the self-conscious, ego-endowed human being.

Even in the Bible it is pointed out that Noah who, in a certain sense was the progenitor of his race in the post-Atlantean period, was the first wine-drinker, the first to experience the effect of alcohol. Then we come to a chapter which may be really very shocking for many people. In the post-Atlantean period an extraordinary cultus arose; this was the worship of Dionysos. You all know that this worship was connected with wine. This extraordinary substance was first introduced to human beings in the post-Atlantean period and produced a certain effect upon them. You know that every substance has some effect upon the human creature and alcohol had a very definite action upon the human organism. In fact, in the course of human evolution, it has had a mission. Strange as it may seem, it has had the task, as it were, of preparing the human body so that it might be cut off from connection with the Divine, in order to allow the personal “I AM” to emerge. Alcohol has the effect of severing the connection of the human being with the spirit world in which he previously existed. It still has this effect today. It was not without reason that alcohol has had a place in human evolution. In the future of humanity, it will be possible to see in the fullest sense of the word that it was the mission of alcohol to draw men so deeply into materiality that they become egoistic, thus bringing them to the point of claiming the ego for themselves, no longer placing it at the service of the whole folk. Alcohol performed a service, the contrary of the one performed by the human group-soul. It deprived men of the capacity to feel themselves at one with the whole in the spirit world. Hence the Dionysian worship which cultivated a living together in a kind of external intoxication, a merging into the whole without observing this whole. Evolution in the post-Atlantean period has been connected with the worship of Dionysos, because this worship was a symbol of the function and mission of alcohol. Now, when mankind is again endeavouring to find its way back, when the ego has been so far developed that the human being is again able to find union with the divine spiritual powers, the time has come for a certain reaction, an unconscious one at first, to take place against alcohol. This reaction is now taking place and many persons today already feel that something which once had a very special significance is not forever justified.

No one should interpret what has been said concerning the mission of alcohol at a special period of time as, perhaps, favoring alcohol, but it should be understood that this has been stated in order to make clear that this alcoholic mission has been fulfilled and that different things are adapted to different periods. In the same period in which men were drawn most deeply into egotism through alcohol, there appeared a force stronger than all others which could give to them the greatest impulse for re-finding a union with the spiritual whole. On the one hand men had to descend to the lowest level in order that they might become independent and on the other hand a strong force must come which can give again the impulse for finding the path back to the Universal. The Christ indicated this to be His mission in the first of His signs. In the first place He had to point out that the ego must become independent; in the second place, that He was addressing Himself to those who had freed themselves from the blood relationship. He had to turn to a marriage where the physical bodies came under the influence of alcohol, because at this marriage wine would be drunk. And Christ Jesus showed how His mission had to proceed in the different earthly epochs. How often we hear extraordinary explanations of the meaning of the changing of water into wine. Even from the pulpit one hears that nothing else is meant than that the insipid water of the Old Testament should be superceded by the strong wine of the New. In all probability it was the wine-lovers who always liked this kind of an explanation, but these symbols are not so simple as that. It must be kept constantly in mind that the Christ said: My mission is one that points toward the far distant future when men will be brought to a union with the Godhead—that is to a love of the Godhead as a free gift of the independent ego. This love should bind men in freedom to the Godhead while formerly an inner compelling impulse of the group-soul had made them a part of It.

Let us now grasp in accordance with the prevailing thought of that time what men then experienced. Let us especially understand the thoughts that they held. It was declared that people were at one time united with the group-soul and felt their union with the Godhead. Then they developed a downward tendency and this was considered as an entanglement in matter, as a degeneration, a kind of falling away from the Divine, and the question was asked: whence came originally what the human being now possesses? From what has he fallen away? The further we go back in earthly evolution, the more we find the solid, earthly matter passing over into a fluidic state under the influence of warmer conditions. But we know that when the earth was much more fluidic than it became later on, human beings also existed, but they were much less detached from the Godhead than at a subsequent period. To the degree that the earth hardened, human things became materialized. At the time the earth was in a fluidic condition, the human being was contained within the watery element, but he could only walk about upon the earth after it had already deposited solid portions. Therefore, people felt the hardening of the physical body and could say: the human being was born out of the earth when it was still in its fluidic state, but at that time he was still wholly united with the Godhead. All that brought him into matter defiled him. Those who are to remember this ancient connection with the Divine were baptized with water. This was its symbol: Let yourself become conscious of your ancient union with the Godhead, conscious that you have become defiled, that you have descended to your present condition.

The Baptist also baptized in this way in order to bring mankind into a closer union with the Godhead. And this is what all baptism signified in ancient times. It is a radical expression, but one which brings to our consciousness what is meant. Christ Jesus had to baptize with something different. He had to direct men, not to the past, but to the future through the development of a spirituality in their inner being. Through the “holy,” the undimmed and undefiled Spirit, the human spirit could be united with the Godhead. Baptism by water was a baptism of remembrance, that of the Holy Spirit is one of prophecy pointing to the future. That relationship which has been wholly lost, and which baptism by water recalls to mind has also been lost in all that was expressed in the symbol of the wine, of the sacrificial wine. Dionysos was the dismembered God who was drawn into the individual souls, separate parts no longer knowing anything of one another. Humanity was split into many pieces and thrown into matter through what alcohol has brought to the world, alcohol the symbol of Dionysos. In the Marriage at Cana, a great principle was preserved, the instructive principle of evolution. There are, to be sure, absolute truths, but they cannot at all times be revealed to men without preparation. Each age must have its special function, its special truths. Why is it that we can speak today of reincarnation, etc.? Why are we able to sit together in such an assembly as this and foster Spiritual Science? We can do so, because all of the souls which are present within you today have been incarnated upon the earth in so and so many bodies and so and so many times. Very many of the souls which are within you now lived at one time in the Germanic countries where the Druid priests walked among you and brought to your souls Spiritual Wisdom in the form of myth and saga. And because your soul received it in that form at that time, it is now in the position to receive it in another form, the Anthroposophical. At that time it was in the form of pictures—today it is in the form of Anthroposophy. But then it would not have been possible to impart truth in its present form. Do not imagine that the ancient Druid priest would have been able to impart the truth in the form in which it is presented today. Anthroposophy is the form befitting the humanity of the present or of the immediate future. In later incarnations truth will be proclaimed, and men will work for it in quite different forms, and what is now called Anthroposophy will be related as something remembered, just as we now relate the Sagas and Fairy-tales. Anthroposophists should not be foolish enough to say that in ancient times there existed only stupidities and childish ideas, and that we alone have advanced the world so gloriously. Those, for example, who pretend to be monists do this. But we are working in Spiritual Science in preparation for the next epoch. For if our present age were not here, the next would likewise not come. No one should, however, make the future an excuse for present conduct. Much nonsense is indulged in also in respect of the teaching of Reincarnation. I have met people who said that in their present incarnation they did not need to be respectable human beings, because for this they had time enough later on. If, however, one does not begin with it today, the consequences will appear straightway in the next incarnation.

So we must understand clearly that there is nothing absolutely fixed in the forms of truth, but that what corresponds to a particular epoch of human evolution, always becomes known. That greatest impulse of evolution had, as it were, to descend even into the life customs of that time. For it had to clothe the highest truth in language and functions befitting the understanding of the particular period in question. Therefore by means of a kind of Dionysian rite or wine sacrifice, the Christ had to tell how mankind could raise itself to the Godhead. One should not fanatically ask why Christ changed the water into wine. The age should be taken into consideration. Through a sort of Dionysian rite, Christ had to prepare for what was to come.

Christ goes to the Galileans who are jumbled together out of all kinds of nationalities that were not bound by the blood-tie and there He performed the first Sign of His mission and He adapted Himself so fully to their habits of life that he turned water into wine for them. Let us hold clearly in mind what the Christ really wished to say by this: Those who have descended to the stage of materialism, symbolized by the drinking of wine, will I also lead to a union with the Spirit.—So He will be there, not alone for those who can be raised by means of the symbol of baptism, by water. It is very significant that we are shown at once that here are six vessels of purification. We shall return to this number. Purification is what is accomplished by means of baptism. If in those epochs in which the Gospel had its origin one wished to express the fact of baptism, it was spoken of as a purification. The word “baptism” was never actually used, but they said “to baptize,” and what resulted through baptism was called “purification.” Never will you find in the Gospel of St. John the corresponding ΒαπτιζΩ, except in verb form. But when it is used as a noun, it is the cleansing that is always meant, the process through which the human being is reminded of his state of purification, his relationship with the Godhead.

Even to the symbolical vessels of the rite of purification, Christ-Jesus undertook the Sign through which He indicated His mission as far as it was possible at that time. Thus in the marriage at Cana in Galilee, something of the profound mission of the Christ is expressed. He said: “My time will come in the future, it is not yet come. What I have to accomplish here has to do in part with what must be overcome through My mission.” He stands in the present and at the same time points to the future, thereby showing how He works for the age, not in an absolute but in a cultural, educational sense. It is the mother, therefore, who besought Him and said, “They have no wine.” But He replied: “What I have now to accomplish has still to do with ancient times, with me and thee, for My proper time has not yet come when wine will be transformed back again into water.” How could it have had any meaning at all to say, “Woman, what have I to do with thee?” when He then complied with what the mother had asked! It only has a meaning if we are shown that the present condition of humanity has been brought about because of the blood relationship and that a Sign has been performed in accordance with ancient usages which still needs the employment of alcohol in ordcr to point to the time when the independent ego shall have risen above the tie of the blood; it has a significance only when we are shown that for the present we must still reckon with ancient times which are symbolized by wine, but that a later time is coming which will be “His time.”

And chapter after chapter of the Gospel reveals to us two things. First it shows that what was communicated was for those who, in a certain way, were able to comprehend occult truths. In our times, exoteric Spiritual Science is presented in lectures, but at that period spiritual-scientific truths could only be understood by those who had been in a certain way actually initiated into this or that degree. Who were those who were able to understand something of what Christ-Jesus was saying about profound truths? Only those who were able to perceive outside of the physical body—those who could withdraw from the body and become conscious in the spirit world. If Christ-Jesus wished to speak to those who could understand Him, it had to be to those who were in a certain way initiated, those who could see spiritually. When, for example, He speaks of the re-birth of the soul in the chapter concerning His conversation with Nicodemus, we see that He is revealing these truths to someone who perceives with spiritual senses. You only need to read the following words:—

But there was a man of the Pharisees, named Nicodemus, a ruler of the Jews; the same came to Jesus by night.

Let us accustom ourselves to accuracy in dealing with words. We are told that Nicodemus came to Jesus “by night;” this means that he received outside of the physical body what Christ-Jesus had to communicate to him. “By night” means that when he makes use of his spiritual senses, he comes to Christ-Jesus. Just as in their conversation about the fig-tree, Nathaniel and Christ-Jesus understood one another as initiates, so too a faculty of understanding is indicated here also.

The second thing shown us in the Gospel is that Christ has always a mission to perform that has nothing to do with the mere blood tie. That is very clearly shown by His approaching the Samaritan woman at the well. He gave her the instructions which He gave those whose ego had been lifted above the common blood tie:

Then cometh He to a city of Samaria which is called Sychar, near to the parcel of ground that Jacob gave to his son Joseph.

Now Jacob's well was there. Jesus, therefore, being wearied with His journey, sat thus on the well: and it was about the sixth hour.

There cometh a woman of Samaria to draw water: Jesus saith unto her, “Give me to drink,” for His disciples were gone away into the city to buy meat.

Then saith the woman of Samaria unto Him, “How is it that thou, being a Jew, asketh drink of me, which am a woman of Samaria, for the Jews have no dealings with the Samaritans.”

Here is indicated that it was something very strange that Christ should go to a people whose egos had been withdrawn, uprooted from the group-soul. That is the important thing.

In the narrative about the nobleman, we read further that the Christ not only breaks the bond of blood that binds men together in a marriage within the folk, but he breaks also that bond that separates them into classes. He came to those whose ego had been uprooted. He healed the son of the nobleman who, according to the interpretation of the Jews, was a stranger to Him. Throughout the Gospel it is pointed out that Christ is the missionary of the independent ego which is present in every human individual. Therefore, He could say:—“When I speak of Myself in a higher sense, of the I AM, I do not at all refer to my own ego residing within me, but to a being, to something which everyone possesses within himself. My ego is one with the Father, but in general the ego present in every personality is also one with the Father.” That is also the deeper meaning of the instructions which the Christ gave to the Samaritan woman at the well.

I should like to call your attention especially to a passage, which if rightly understood will enable you to come to a deep understanding. It is the passage from the 31st to the 34th verse of the 3rd chapter which naturally must be read so that the reader is conscious of its being John the Baptist who speaks these words:—

He that cometh from above is above all: he that is of the earth is earthly and speaketh of the earth; he that cometh from heaven is above all. And what he hath seen and heard, to that he testifieth: and no man receiveth his testimony.

But he that hath received his testimony hath set his seal that God is true.

For he whom God hath sent speaketh the words of God: for God giveth not the Spirit by measure unto him.

I should like to meet anyone who understands these words according to this translation. What a contradiction! “He whom God hath sent, speaketh the word of God, for God giveth not the Spirit by measure unto him.” What is the sense of these words?

In countless utterances, Christ says: “When I speak of My Ego, I speak of the Eternal Ego in men which is one with the spiritual foundations of the world. When I speak of this Ego, I speak of something which dwells in the innermost depths of the human soul. If any man hears Me (and now He is speaking only of the lower ego which feels nothing of the Eternal) he receiveth not My testimony. He understands nothing of what I say, for I can speak of nothing that flows from Me to him. Otherwise he would not then be independent. Every one must find within himself as his own eternal base, the God which I proclaim.” A few verses back we find the passage:—

And John also was baptizing in Enon near to Salim, because there was much water there: and they came and were baptized.

Then there arose a question between some of John's disciples and the Jews about purification (this means about the form of baptism).

When such a question was raised in these circles, they were always speaking of the union with the Divine and of the submersion of humanity into matter and of how, according to the old idea of God, union with the Divine took place through the group-soul. Thus others came and said to John: “Jesus also baptizes!” And John had to make it clear to them that what had come into the world through Jesus was something very special and this he did by saying that Jesus does not teach that union symbolized by the ancient form of baptism, but teaches how men will be their own guides through the free gift of the now independent ego. And each individual must discover the “I AM,” the God, within himself. Only in this way is he in the position to find the Divine in his inner being. If these words are read thus, then the reader will be aware that He, the “I AM,” was sent from God. He who was sent from God, who was sent to enkindle the Divine in this way, also preached God in the true sense, no longer according to the blood tie.

Let us translate these passages according to their true meaning, for we have now the basis for such a translation, if we understand how the teachings of the ancients were presented. They were poetically portrayed in many books. We need only recall the Psalms of the Old Testament where in beautifully constructed language, the Divine was proclaimed. At that time the ancient blood-relationship was spoken of only as a relationship with a God. This could all be learned, but all that was learned through it was nothing more than that one was related to this ancient divinity. But, if there was a desire to comprehend the Christ, then all the ancient laws, all the ancient artificialities were unnecessary. What the Christ taught could be understood to the degree that men understood the spiritual ego within themselves. At that time, it is true, it was not possible to have full knowledge of Divinity, but one could understand what was heard from the lips of Christ-Jesus. The preliminary conditions for understanding were there. The Psalms were not then necessary, nor all the poetically constructed teachings, for all that was needed was the simplest means of expression. One needed only to speak in halting words to become a witness of God. Even in the simplest, stammering words it was possible to become a witness of the Divine; it need be only single words without metre. Anyone who felt in his ego that he was sent from God, even though he were halting in his speech, could understand the words of the Christ. Anyone knowing only the earthly relationship with God speaks in the poetic measure of the Psalms, but all his metre leads him to nothing but the ancient gods. However, anyone who felt himself deeply rooted in the spirit worlds is above all, and can bear witness of what has been seen and heard in those worlds. But those who accepted a testimony only in the accustomed way did not accept His. If there were those who accepted it, they showed by their acceptance that they felt themselves sent from God. They not only believed, they understood what the other one said to them, and through their understanding they bore witness of their words. “He who feels the ego, reveals even in his stammering words the Word of God.” This is what is meant, for the spirit here referred to does not need to express itself in metre, in any form of syllabic measure, but it can declare itself in the simplest, halting manner. Such words can easily be taken as a license for folly. But whoever refuses wisdom just because, in his opinion, the most sublime mysteries should be expressed in the simplest form possible, does so, although often quite unconsciously, merely from an inclination toward psychic ease. When it is said, “God giveth not the spirit by measure” (metre), it only means that the “measure” or metre does not help towards the spirit. But where the spirit really exists, there also is “measure.” Not everyone who has “measure” has the “spirit;” but one who has the “spirit” will come most certainly to “measure” or metre. Naturally, certain things cannot be reversed. It is not an evidence of possessing the “spirit” if one has no “measure;” nor is the possession of “measure” a proof of the “spirit.” Science is certainly no sign of wisdom, nor is a lack of science a proof of it.

So we are shown that Christ appeals to the independent ego in every human soul. “Measure” you must consider here as metre, poetically constructed speech. Then the foregoing sentence will read: “He who finds God in the ‘I AM, bears witness of Divine Speech or God's language, even in his stammering words”—and he finds the way to God.

On the meaning and spiritual origin of the cult of knowledge

It is quite impossible to make real progress in penetrating into higher worlds without going through the stage of imaginative knowledge.¹

The motif of the temple in Goethe and in Rudolf Steiner is to be a vessel for supersensible worship, which Goethe has performed by the three kings and which Rudolf Steiner has performed at the three altars.²

One important reason for working with cultic symbolism at all lies in the original knowledge that events in the higher world immediately adjacent to the physical world - the astral or imaginative world - express themselves in symbolic images that correspond to astral facts just as what is seen in the physical world corresponds to physical facts. In this sense, symbolic-cultic work can be seen as a practical tool for becoming familiar with the astral world. Rudolf Steiner once emphasized that the higher worlds cannot be penetrated in any other way than through symbolic representations. Literally it says: “In the various occult currents of the present time, the opinion prevails that there are other ways of ascending into the higher worlds than by using imaginative and symbolic images. And for people of the present time, ascending to the astral world with the help of symbolic signs or other occult means of education is associated with a certain fear, even aversion. If one raises the question: Are such states of fear justified? - one can say: Yes and No. - In a certain respect they are justified, in another respect they are completely out of place, because no one can really come up into the higher worlds without passing through the astral world.” (Cologne, December 29, 1907).

Regarding the statement about the spiritual origin of the cult of knowledge in the letter of August 15, 1906 (p. 68): “This ritual cannot be any different than the reflection of what is the fact of the higher planes,” there is an important addition in lectures from 1924, in which this fact of the higher planes is described as follows: “At the end of the eighteenth and the beginning of the nineteenth century, hovering very close by, of course, I mean in terms of quality, to the physical-sensuous world, there is a supersensible event which presents supersensible acts of worship, powerful developments of images of spiritual life...” These illuminated Goethe's spirit in miniature images and were shaped by him into his ” Fairytale of the Green Snake and the Beautiful Lily (Dornach, September 16, 1924). One of the central motifs of this fairy-tale is the temple with the three kings, the representatives of wisdom, beauty, power or strength; also characterized by Rudolf Steiner as representatives of initiation: the golden king for the imagination, the silver king for the cognitive faculty of objective feeling, the brazen king for the cognitive faculty of the will (Berlin, October 24, 1908). The three altars with their servants are in line with this, both in the cult of knowledge and in the temple scenes of the mystery dramas. And if the letter of August 15, 1906, goes on to say that the ritual recognized by occultism for 2300 years ³ was prepared by the masters of the “Rosicrucians” according to European standards, the connection with supersensible cult appears in the following words: “The Rosicrucians said: Shape the world so that it contains wisdom, beauty and strength, then wisdom, beauty and strength are reflected in us. If you have devoted your time to this, you yourself will emerge from this earth with the reflection of wisdom, beauty and strength. Wisdom is the reflection of the manas; beauty, devotion, kindness is the reflection of the budhi; strength is the reflection of the atma. ... Man advances on earth, not by idle contemplation, but by assimilating wisdom, beauty and strength from the earth.

Goethe's riddle-tale, as it has often been called, was written at the end of the 18th century (1795). A century later, in 1899, as the so-called Kali Yuga, the spiritually dark age, came to an end and a spiritually bright age was to begin again, Rudolf Steiner grasped the far-reaching decision to bring the esoteric that lived in him to public display, in the sense of the decisive word for the whole event in Goethe's fairy tale, “It is time!” And true to the esoteric law of maintaining continuity, he took up the fairy tale of the green snake and the beautiful lily, the images of which had been his meditation for twenty years. On August 28, 1899, the 150th anniversary of Goethe's birth, he published the essay “Goethe's Secret Revelation” and a year later, in the fall of 1900, he continued the interpretation of the Goethean apocalypse begun in it in a lecture given to the Berlin Theosophists and now became “completely esoteric”. ⁴ Twenty years later, on the eve of the first event in the first Goetheanum building, the so-called first college course, he referred to this lecture as the “primordial cell” of the anthroposophical movement, looking back on its development (Dornach, September 25, 1920).

This probably meant not only that the anthroposophical movement had its external beginning with this lecture, but also, unspoken, that at that time the realization of the central demand of the Goethe fairy tale had begun: to bring the mysteries - the temple - out of the hidden into the full light of day, that is, into the public sphere. For it was in this deeper sense that anthroposophical spiritual science was developed as the herald of the spiritually bright age that had dawned for humanity. And that is why, in the last year of his lecturing activities, Rudolf Steiner said the following, which is so important in connection with the description of the supersensible cult: “What is anthroposophy in terms of its reality? Yes, my dear friends, when you see through all the wonderful, majestic imaginations that existed as supersensible worship in the first half of the 19th century [and also at the end of the 18th century], and translate that into human concepts, then you have Anthroposophy” (Dornach, July 8, 1924).

Thus, a straight line leads from the perception of the cult in the supersensible world - which is undoubtedly connected with the ancient ritual prepared by the masters of the Rosicrucians for European conditions - through the Goethe fairy tale to the translation of these images of spiritual life into the scientific concepts of anthroposophy and to the design of the cult of knowledge.

In this sense, Rudolf Steiner brought the cult of knowledge, with its three altars, which Marie Steiner describes as the signs and seals of his work, “out of the depths of the temple in which they have stood since the beginning of mystery religions” and handed it over to “mankind” ($. 486).

Why the cult of knowledge was cultivated in fraternal union

It is not the one and the other and the third, but something completely new that arises through union.⁵

To answer the question of why cult symbolism is used in fraternal associations, certain spiritual facts must be taken into account. One is the nature of such associations, which Rudolf Steiner characterized in his lecture on brotherhood and the struggle for existence, given in Berlin on November 23, 1905, one day before he entered the Memphis-Misraim Freemasonry:

"Unity means the possibility of a higher being expressing itself through the united members. This is a general principle in all life.” Five people who are together, thinking and feeling in harmony with each other, are more than 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1; they are not merely the sum of the five, just as our body is not the sum of the five senses, but the living together, the living into each other means something very similar to the living into each other of the cells of the human body. A new, higher being is in the midst of the five, even in the midst of two or three. “Where two or three are united in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” It is not the one and the other and the third, but something completely new that arises from the union. But this can only come about if the individual lives in the other, if the individual draws his strength not only from himself but also from the others. But this can only happen if he lives in the other selflessly. Thus human associations are the mysterious places into which higher spiritual beings descend in order to work through individual people, as the soul works through the members of the body.

In our materialistic age, this is not easily believed, but in the spiritual scientific world view, it is not merely something figurative, but highly real. Therefore, the spiritual scientist is not just talking about abstract things when he speaks of the folk spirit or the folk soul or the family spirit or the spirit of another community. You cannot see this spirit at work in an association, but it is there, and it is there through the brotherly love of the personalities working in this association. Just as the body has a soul, so a guild, a brotherhood, also has a soul, and I repeat once again, it is not just a figure of speech, but is to be taken as a full reality.

The magicians are the people who work together in the brotherhood because they attract higher beings into their circle. There is no longer any need to invoke the machinations of spiritualism when working together in a community with brotherly love. Higher beings are manifesting themselves there. When we give ourselves up in the brotherhood, this giving up, this merging into the whole, is a strengthening, a fortification of our organs. When we then act or speak as a member of such a community, it is not the individual soul that acts or speaks in us, but the spirit of the community. This is the secret of the progress of future humanity, to work out of communities. Just as one epoch replaces another and each has its own task, so it is also with the medieval epoch in relation to our own, with our epoch in relation to the future. The medieval brotherhoods were active in the practical side of life, in the foundation of the useful arts. They only showed a materialistic life after they had preserved their fruits, their basis of consciousness, namely brotherhood, but had more or less disappeared after the abstract principle of the state, the abstract, spiritual life had taken the place of real empathy. It is incumbent upon the future to found brotherhoods again, and to do so out of the spiritual, out of the highest ideals of the soul. Human life has so far produced the most diverse associations; it has given rise to a terrible struggle for existence, which today has almost reached its peak. The spiritual-scientific world view aims to develop the highest goods of humanity in the sense of the brotherhood principle, and so you see that the spiritual-scientific world movement is replacing the struggle for existence with the brotherhood principle in all fields. We must learn to live a life of community. We must not believe that one or the other is capable of carrying out this or that.

Everyone would like to know how to combine the struggle for existence and brotherly love. That is quite simple. We must learn to replace struggle with positive work, to replace war with the ideal. Today, however, people understand too little what this means. We do not know what fight we are talking about, because we only talk about fights in life in general. There is the social fight, the fight for peace, the fight for the emancipation of women, the fight for land and so on, everywhere we look we see fight.

The spiritual scientific worldview now strives to replace this struggle with positive work. Those who have embraced this worldview know that fighting in any area of life does not lead to real results. Seek to introduce into life that which proves to be right in your experience and knowledge, to assert it without fighting your opponent. It can, of course, only be an ideal, but there must be such an ideal to be introduced into life today as a spiritual-scientific principle. People who attach themselves to other people and use their strength for the benefit of all are the foundation on which a fruitful development into the future can be built. The Theosophical [or Anthroposophical] Society aims to be exemplary in this respect. It is therefore not a propaganda society like others, but a brotherhood. In it, one works through the work of each individual member. One must only understand this correctly. The one who works best is not the one who wants to enforce his opinion, but the one who sees what he sees in his fellow brothers; who searches the thoughts and feelings of his fellow human beings and makes himself their servant. He works best within this circle, which can implement in practical life, not sparing one's own opinion. If we try to understand in this way, that our best powers arise from union and that union is not to be held merely as an abstract principle, but above all to be practiced in a theosophical way in every action, in every moment of life, then we will make progress. We must only not be impatient in this progress."

Another spiritual fact on which communal work on cult symbols is based is that the powers of thought developed through genuine cult symbols, when thought through long periods of time, increase to such an extent that they become external reality in later times. In this way progress is effected. For everything happens from within, not from without: “What is thought and feeling in one period is outer form in the following period. And the individualities that guide the evolution of humanity must implant the thought forms that are to become outer physical reality many millennia in advance. There you have the function of thought forms, which are stimulated by such symbolic images as Noah's Ark, the Temple of Solomon, and the four apocalyptic creatures man, lion, bull, eagle. ... Images that guide people when they surrender to them... to take part in the world that directly borders on theirs,” as it says in the lecture Cologne, December 28, 1907, in which the transformation of the human body is described as a prime example of how the ideas of Noah's Ark and Solomon's Temple are brought about.

These spiritual scientific insights also provide a concrete background for the following statement about Freemasonry: “If you ask me what Freemasonry actually consists of, I have to tell you in abstract terms: Freemasonry consists in its members thinking ahead, for several centuries, of the events that should advance the world, “which, however, has already been realized to a large extent today (Berlin, January 2, 1906).

If the whole of progress is served by symbolic-cultic fraternal cooperation, then the progress of the individual is also served. The fact that Rudolf Steiner points out that real consciousness of immortality is bound to practical fraternity, for the decisive law for the real consciousness of immortality is: Only that which a person does not do for himself alone in order to attain it contributes to the development of the consciousness of immortality, to a spiritual survival filled with full consciousness (Berlin, December 23, 1904).

As is well known, realizing ideals requires a great deal of patience. Rudolf Steiner spoke about this in an instructive and consoling way in a lesson in the following way:

Instruction lesson, Berlin, October 28, 1911

Perhaps there are some among you who feel oppressed because they cannot yet apply what they have learned here in their lives to their outer work, so that they can only keep taking in spiritual teachings and now have to ask themselves: Am I perhaps a spiritual hedonist? The wise masters of the East give us this answer: When spiritual teachings are assimilated, something happens that also lasts for all eternity. The spiritual development of humanity could not be furthered by the “spirits of the past” - whether people who lived in the distant past or gods who preceded us in their earthly development - if there were no souls into which they could pour these teachings. It is like the seed of a plant: as long as it is still inside the flower or ovary, it has no value; only when it enters the earth can it flourish. Of much more importance for the development of the earth are the people who allow works of art such as the Sistine Madonna, Faust and so on to have an effect on them than the artists themselves. If Raphael had only painted the [Sistine] Madonna and no one else had ever seen it, it would have been significant only for him, but not for eternity. Only by allowing people to be affected by works of art or other intellectual products is something created that will outlast the earth and be taken into the Jupiter state. The creator is not the most important thing; by far the most important are the viewers, readers and so on. If someone who creates a work of art or writes a book receives the inspiration for it from the spiritual world, then, until the moment of conception, it also has an eternal meaning for him. But as soon as he sets to work with pen or brush, he works only for the temporal, it has meaning only for him. Everything that is produced for the world is temporal. Only that which is inspired in human souls remains. The greatest weight is therefore not where one would expect it to be according to ordinary intellectual judgment. That the evangelists wrote the Gospels was significant for them, but it would mean nothing for eternity if there had not been innumerable hearts on which these Gospels had an effect. It is infinitely better to read a good book from an earlier time and let it have an effect on you than to write a bad book yourself. Those who believe they have to achieve something in the world should wait until their karma calls them to this or that work. And those who, for example, have had a spiritual vision and wonder whether they should share it with the world can apply the following criterion: If sharing it gives them joy, then they should certainly refrain from doing so. Only that which causes pain when communicated has value. Humorists who enjoy their ideas do not produce anything that has meaning for humanity; only those who have painfully relived the folly of men and have risen to their humor from it give something lasting in history. Nothing but “devotion to the spiritual world” can make a work fruitful in the world.

People may have accumulated treasures and feel the need to use them again for the benefit of humanity, but without occult insight it is impossible to know whether one or the other philanthropic institution will serve the good or the misfortune of people after a short time. No matter how many Samaritan deeds are performed and how many people are made happy, it could be, and without the devotion to the spiritual world just mentioned, it is even very likely, that great harm will be done, for instance to the children of those people, that is, to the next generation.

Here, in our lodge, because people are present with their thoughts, more is being done for the good of the world than all philanthropic work. Physical values are destroyed by using them for oneself; spiritual values, on the other hand, are created by absorbing them. Thus, the creator himself is not the most important thing at all. If one were to go back to the Akasha Chronicle to the age of Raphael, Michelangelo and so on, and pay attention only to them, one would not get the right picture. Likewise, if one were to only pay attention to what was in the souls of the great leaders of the mysteries when researching the Atlantean period in the Akasha Chronicle – which, by the way, is very difficult – one only sees the right thing when one pays attention to what was awakened in the hearts and souls of their disciples.

Anyone capable of writing a mediocre book is then also capable of understanding a good book from the past and will derive infinitely more benefit from it than from writing a mediocre book.

So it is not unauthorized enjoyment when the members endeavor to absorb what is offered here. Without this acceptance by the members, nothing could be done for the further spiritual development of people. Then people would have to fall completely prey to materialism; future generations would be sick in body and soul. The children born among us would not find the thoughts they need for their proper development in the spiritual atmosphere if there were no circles in which spiritual knowledge is received, even if it is not carried out. Materialism sins so much that one cannot do enough in this direction, that exaggeration is not possible at all. Even if ten or a hundred times more were studied than is really the case, it would still not be too much to make up for what is sinned against the world through materialism.

Regarding the name of the working group

It was a “cult of knowledge”.

For inner reasons, the working group had no actual name for Rudolf Steiner (see page 237). It was therefore sometimes abbreviated to “FM” (Freemasonry), sometimes to “ME” (mystica aeterna), and later, at Rudolf Steiner's express request, to “MD” (Misraim Service) (see page 94). For the present publication, the term “cult of knowledge” was chosen because it best expresses the essence of Steiner's intentions. It was in 1923 when he answered a question from priests of the “Christian Community” about the relationship between their cult and the earlier esoteric cult:

"The earlier cult was purely demonstrative. It was a cult of knowledge with degrees. The first degree brought the knowledge of the earthly man, showed man from the Lemurian time to the present, in the imagination. The second degree represented the relationship to the spiritual world, the third the secrets of the gate of death and so on. This cult was a non-temporal, interdenominational and interreligious one; only a certain degree had a Christian character. The use of this cult had to be discontinued because the demonstration character could no longer be made clear to the outside world.6

Even before Rudolf Steiner referred to the cult as a “cult of knowledge” in this question-and-answer session, he had pointed out the importance of knowledge for the cultic in his Dornach lecture of December 30, 1922, with the words: “For everything that is cultic must ultimately dissolve if the backbone of knowledge is lacking.”

Admission Procedure

Those approaching the institution were told in the clearest possible terms that they were not joining a religious order, but that as participants in ceremonial acts they would experience a kind of sensitization, a demonstration of spiritual knowledge. If some of the forms in which members were accepted into traditional orders or promoted to higher degrees were retained, this too had nothing to do with the purpose of such an order, but only to illustrate spiritual ascent in soul experiences through sensual images. ⁷

An example of how admission was sought can be found in a letter from the leader of the Munich group, Sophie Stinde, which Steiner passed on to Rudolf Steiner on February 24, 1908: “Countess H. would like to become a member of the FM. but wanted to ask you in Stuttgart beforehand whether she could join at her next visit or whether you thought it better if she waited. Since she did not get around to asking you in Stuttgart, I suggested that I should ask you. Since we probably have recordings, we could include her, if you don't think it's too soon for Grf.H. Miss L. was with us recently and repeated that she and Dr. W. would like to be included in March. Miss Kr. and Mr. R. also repeated the request. (...) We had thought of the work plan as follows: On the 17th in the evening, Lodge. On the 18th in the morning ES. - In the evening public lecture Man and Woman. On the 19th in the morning FM-admission. We would certainly have placed the admission before the instruction, since we know that you prefer it that way, but since there is a public lecture on the 19th in the evening, we must refrain from it this time, since the admission will be a very extensive one after all."

Depending on how many candidates were admitted, the admissions often lasted for hours; individual admissions were only undertaken in exceptional cases. Before the actual admission, there was a preparatory session in which the candidates were informed about the tasks and duties. Only two records of Rudolf Steiner's remarks in such preparatory sessions are available (p. 143f.). In exceptional cases, such preliminary meetings were also formally organized, as can be seen from a letter from Rudolf Steiner to Sophie Stinde dated June 10, 1908, which states: “St's are to be admitted to the FM this time. It will not do to have a short preliminary celebration on Monday for the FM. The most urgent wish of the St. is to be admitted precisely on his 50th birthday. Of course, the admission cannot take place until Tuesday – the day after his birthday – but one could briefly – perhaps without a lodge ceremony – hold a preliminary celebration of the admission on Monday, which would be specially arranged.

On the degrees

A truth is either known or not known. ... Therefore, the democratic principle is impossible in matters of knowledge.⁸

Regarding the right to work in degrees, one of the lectures given during the period of preparation of the circle states: “Truth is not something about which one can have opinions. One either knows a truth or one does not know it.... Just as little as one can discuss whether the sum of the angles of a triangle is such and such or has so many degrees, just as little can one discuss higher truths. Therefore, the democratic principle is impossible in matters of knowledge (Berlin, December 16, 1904).

In this sense, the working group of the Knowledge Cult was structured in degrees. One participant described it as follows: “It was an institution in which there were different degrees to which the participants were promoted, depending on the readiness of their souls for the content of these degrees, as determined by their karma. Promotion to a higher degree took place partly in forms that were also practiced in occult societies, for example in Freemasonry - but not in imitation of such orders, but because they resulted from spiritual research. ... It is easy to see that the esoteric impulses flowed ever more abundantly as the degrees rose, and that in the almost ten years of the events – right up to the outbreak of war – the experiences of these hours meant something tremendously profound for the development of the soul life of many participants.” ⁹

There were nine degrees in all, divided into three and six, forming two sections or classes, which, together with the so-called “ES”, formed the three sections or classes of the Esoteric School, as it existed from 1904 to 1914. In the first three degrees, the emphasis was on ritual acts; in the following six degrees, which, according to tradition, only a few belonged to, teaching was said to have been the main focus. The extent to which nine degrees correspond to the number of degrees that can be taught in a true secret training course today was once explained as follows:

”...Now it is very important to know that every occult fraternity is built upon the foundation of three degrees. In the first degree, when the symbolism is used in the right way (and by 'right' I naturally mean as I have just indicated for our fifth post-Atlantean period), the souls come to the point where they have a precise inner experience of the fact that there is knowledge independent of ordinary physical-sensory knowledge. And in the first degree they must have a certain sum of such knowledge independent of the physical. Everyone in the first degree today within the fifth post-Atlantic period should know approximately what is in my “Occult Science”. Everyone who has reached the second degree should know - that is, know inwardly in a living way - what is contained in the book “How to Know Higher Worlds”. And anyone who has reached the third degree and receives the meaningful symbols, signs, grip and word of the third degree already, knows what it means to live outside of one's physical body. That would be the rule, that would be what is to be attained.

But then there are people who arrive at the so-called high degrees, at higher degrees. Now, this is certainly an area where an enormous amount of vanity comes into play, because there is fraternization in which one can reach ninety or more than ninety degrees. Now just imagine what it means to bear such a high degree! The so-called Scottish High Degree system has thirty-three degrees, simply due to an error arising from grotesque ignorance. This system is built on the three degrees that run in the way I have described. So there you have the three degrees, which, as you can see, have their profound significance. But after these three degrees, there are another thirty. Now you can imagine what a high being you are if you are able to experience yourself outside of your body in the third degree, what a high being you are if you go through another thirty degrees after that. But it is based on a grotesque error of knowledge. In the occult sciences, degrees are read differently than in the decimal system: they are read in such a way that one does not calculate according to the decimal system, but according to the system of numbers that are currently being considered. So when you write: 33rd degree, in reality, according to the system of numbers that are being considered, it means: 3 times 3 = 9. ... Just because people can't read, they read 33 instead of 9.

Well, but let's disregard these vanities. There are still six degrees that build on these three degrees, and these are counted as legitimate degrees. And when they are gone through, they already give very significant results. But basically, they cannot be fully experienced in the present. It is absolutely impossible. They cannot be fully experienced because humanity in the fifth post-Atlantic period is not yet so far advanced that all that can be experienced can actually be experienced. For not enough has emerged from the spiritual worlds – I will not say in the way of knowledge, but in the way of the exercise of knowledge. This will come out only later.” (Berlin, April 4, 1916)

On the symbolism of the institution

In fact, Freemasonry originally emerged from the mystery schools through a betrayal. This is why many of the symbols found in Freemasonry can also be found here.¹⁰

The interior design of the lodge or temple has been handed down in detail only for the first two degrees, but it is likely that it was also largely the same for the third degree, at least: walls draped in black, which were transformed into glowing red in the final act, at the Rose Cross conclusion. ¹¹ On the east wall, in a blue square of cloth, there was a radiant sun with a triangle in the middle. On the ceiling was a lamp with a second-degree letter “G” made of gilded cardboard or sheet metal.¹² The floor was covered by a carpet in a black and white checkerboard pattern. At the edges of the large carpet were three altars: in the east the altar of wisdom (master), in the south the altar of beauty (2nd overseer), in the west the altar of strength (1st overseer). ¹³ Each officiant carried a herald's staff, presumably as in the Mystery Dramas. A large candelabrum stood beside each altar. A plumb line made of gilded sheet metal was affixed to the front of each altar. Furthermore, each altar had a candle, matches, scissors for cutting candles, a candle snuffer, a hammer and a trowel. A chalice belonged to the altar of the East, the so-called “Holy of Holies”; a censer with a bowl and an angle to the altar of the South; two compasses, a yardstick and a skull to the altar of the West.

At the altar of the East stood a cross with a wreath of thorns, which in the final act, at the Rose-Cross conclusion, was exchanged for a wreath of red roses. Close by stood a somewhat smaller altar with the 13th chapter of the Gospel of John open at the Bible, on which lay a gilded sheet metal triangle and a ladle that fit into each other. In the beginning, one had to swear at this altar not to reveal the secrets of the Temple. This was in keeping with an ancient tradition in occult contexts.¹⁴

Although this was also linked to the old, it was later abandoned, as reported by participants. For Rudolf Steiner, people in the modern age should be increasingly called upon to take personal moral responsibility in their esoteric lives. In the north, outside the large carpet, stood the two round columns Jakin and Boaz, also called the Pillars of Hercules. The left one (Jakin) was brick red; on top lay a hewn cube-shaped stone (blue). The right one (Boaz) was dark blue; on top of it lay an unhewn stone (red). Between the two columns lay the symbolic table, which Elisabeth Vreede's sketch shows as a “small carpet”, as it is also used in general Masonic lodges (so-called Tapis, Tableau). The participants had their seats on the north and south sides of the lodge room.

In the third degree, a fourth altar appeared in the north, as well as a coffin, just as in certain temple scenes in the mystery dramas.

The sketches for the first and second degree settings, as well as the detailed sketches and explanations, were done by the Dutchwoman Elisabeth Vreede.

Clothing

There is no authentic information about clothing. It is known that the apron (mason's apron, lambskin) was worn, and that Rudolf Steiner wore an alb (the long white priest's robe), over which a red cloak was thrown when the color of the room changed from black to red.

For the symbolic meaning of such clothing, see the remarks in the workers' lecture of June 4, 1924, reproduced on page 272 under “Zeichen, Griff und Wort”.

Regarding the rituals

Everything that was presented in terms of the content of “actions” ... was without historical reference to any tradition. In the possession of the formal diploma, only that was cultivated which resulted from the visualization of anthroposophical knowledge.¹⁵

All the extant ritual texts are summarized in the second part of this volume. It is known that there were also one or two smaller ritual acts: for example, the so-called baptism of fire in the fourth degree. Before a burning sulfur flame, the person in question was given the name that is appropriate for him in the spiritual world; ¹⁶ There are also isolated reports of marriages. But there are no texts for these small ceremonies. Presumably there were none for them, or no ritual text was necessary.

The rituals can no longer be reconstructed in their full entirety, insofar as they were determined not only by the wording but also, and just as essentially, by the actions, the implements, the clothing and so on. But there is not enough authentic information available about these.

At the beginning of 1913, after some members left the Erkenntniskultischer Arbeitskreis in connection with the separation from the Theosophical Society and the founding of the independent Anthroposophical Society, and apparently betrayed some of it, Rudolf Steiner announced that it had become necessary to change the rituals as a result. In the notes from the instruction session for all degrees in Berlin on February 8, 1913, it says: “Because of this betrayal, it has become necessary to change our ritual and to transform it so that - while the meaning remains essentially the same - the rituals will nevertheless be different from before, so that they will not resonate with those of the others.” Another participant noted the statement as follows: “We were talking about those who have fallen away. In order for their thoughts not to resonate with our work here, it is necessary to change the ritual.” There is no original document for this announced change. However, one participant has passed on the extent to which the words spoken at the three altars have undergone a certain change (see page 170).

Ritual events only take place in places where appropriate rooms are available, such as in the anthroposophical centers in Berlin, Hannover, Cologne, Munich, Stuttgart, among others, but also in other countries. ¹⁷

On the explanations of the cult of knowledge and the symbolism of the furnishings

Theosophy is the inner truth of these ceremonies; it says what these ceremonies show, it has the spirit of these signs and images.¹⁸

The instruction or teaching sessions in which the rituals and the symbolism of the furnishings were explained and general spiritual scientific research results were presented, took place between the ritual beginning and the ritual end of a meeting. But there were also instruction sessions without ritual; mostly for one degree, sometimes for several, sometimes for all degrees together.

Since it was not allowed to take notes during such lessons, it should be noted that all the records handed down were made afterwards from memory and are therefore fragmentary or only in note form, and in terms of style, and possibly also content, do not always do justice to Rudolf Steiner.

In the present documentation, only those notes were included that directly refer to the cult of knowledge, the symbolism of the furnishings, as well as the temple legend and the golden legend. Since this information is widely scattered, it was extracted and assigned to the respective terms for a better overview. In some cases, where no explanations from instruction hours are available, illustrations from general lectures given later were included.¹⁹ On the other hand, notes from general spiritual scientific presentations were not included, since these can be found, for the most part, in better reproduction in the part of the lecture work that is already available in the complete edition, because they are based on stenographic notes.

Regarding the Temple Legend and the Golden Legend as they appeared in the rituals.

The nature of Hiram is in all of us; we must bring it to resurrection in us.²⁰

Legends as pictorial representations of esoteric truths play an important role in all secret teachings, since such images summarize a vast number of ideas and not only affect the intellect but also the feelings of the human being. In this sense, the two legends were of great importance because their images reflect the exemplary advancement of the Hiram individuality on the occult path.

The Temple Legend - of which it was once said that he who takes it up takes up something “that forms his thinking in a certain lawful way, and lawful thinking is what matters” ²¹ - appeared in two forms. The part symbolically interpreting the evolution of humanity was taught as meditation material when entering the first degree; the conclusion of the legend, referring to Hiram's death and resurrection, formed part of the initiation ritual into the third degree. The legend was repeatedly treated in instruction hours. The records handed down are summarized in the section 'Explanations of the Temple Legend'. The information contained therein about the re-embodiments of Hiram Abiff requires supplementation, since it forms only part of what may be called Rudolf Steiner's Hiram research in the field of reincarnation. This supplement is attached to the section 'Explanations of the Temple Legend'.

The Golden Legend – referred to in one of the traditional explanations as the “second” Master Legend – was symbolized by the two round columns, Jakin and Boaz. The text of this legend and the explanations that have been handed down can be found in the section “Explanations of the symbolism of the furnishings”.

• 1. From “The Stages of Higher Knowledge,” GA 12.
• 2. E.A. Karl Stockmeyer, a member of the working group on the cult of knowledge, in his essay “On the Unity of Temple and Cult in the Context of the Goetheanum Building Idea,” contained in “Bilder okkulter Siegel und Säulen. Der Münchner Kongreß Pfingsten 1907,” GA 284.
• 3. According to a note by Günther Schubert, Rudolf Steiner said that the whole thing goes back to Melchizedek.
• 4. "My Life” (Chapter 30), GA 28. Marie Steiner noted in a notebook (archive number 21): 'When Rudolf Steiner first came among people with the intention of lifting the veils of esotericism, he took Goethe's fairy tale as his starting point and spoke about the altars of wisdom, beauty and strength. He placed them in the temples of his mystery dramas and spoke to us again and in greater depth about their significance. And again he placed them in our esoteric school and had us approach the various aspects of thinking, feeling and willing, which are an expression of these altars, again and again.”
• 5. From a lecture in Berlin, November 23, 1905.
• 7. “My Life”, see page 95f.
• 8. Berlin, December 16, 1904.
• 9. Adolf Arenson in “Circular letter to the members of the Anthroposophical Society”, October 1926.
• 10. Instruction Lesson Berlin December 16, 1911, see p. 93.
• 11. Rudolf Steiner also indicated the transformation from black to red for the “Easter Night” from Goethe's “Faust”, which he and Marie Steiner staged.
• 12. It is known that the “G” had various meanings, such as “gnosis” or “geometry”.
• 13. At the altar of the east, Rudolf Steiner and Marie von Sivers always officiated together, while the other altars had alternating officiants.
• 14. See page 245.
• 15. “My Life Course”, see page 95f. of the present volume.
• 16. A baptismal ceremony with water took place in the first degree, see page 208 ff. of the present volume.
• 17. From documents in the archive of the Rudolf Steiner estate administration, it can be seen that there must have been translations of Rudolf Steiner's ritual texts (at least in part) into English and French.
• 18. From notes by Marie Steiner from the lecture in Bremen, April 9, 1906.
• 19. Evidence of symbolism in cultural history can be found in Joseph Schauberg, op. cit.
• 20. See the section 'Notes on the Temple Legend'.
• 21. Berlin, May 15, 1905.