The Rudolf Steiner Archive

On the development of the German world view in the present day

As one of the greatest tragedies of the soul, Nietzsche's intellectual life presents itself in the development of humanity in terms of intellectual culture in the last third of the nineteenth century and shines not only through the nature of its course, but above all through its very special relation to much that lives spiritually in the present, shining over into the immediate present.

In the lectures I had the honor of giving during the winter, I tried to characterize German intellectual life from various points of view in the period that can be called the great age of German idealism, the period in which a Fichte, a Schelling, and a Hegel, among others, emerged from the depths of the human soul, and perhaps one can say, even more from the depths of the soul's strong forces, to world picture that is really a kind of background to that tremendous flowering of modern intellectual life that is revealed in Herder, Lessing, Goethe, Schiller and the others who belong to them. In one of the last lectures, I then tried to show how the tone of German intellectual life, struck by these great minds, has lived on to our days, but one can say: it has lived on more under the surface of the popularized intellectual life, so that in many ways it has appeared to us as a sound that has faded away, as a forgotten striving within the German intellectual development of the nineteenth century and into the present.

And indeed, anyone who looks at the huge break that occurred around the middle of the nineteenth century in Central European cultural life can easily understand why the character of the time more or less just faded away unnoticed. It was out of an intellectual and intellectually related power of mind that German intellectual life at the turn of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, in the first third of the nineteenth century, sought to penetrate into the depths of the secrets of the world through the aforementioned minds. And we shall not be doing Hegel an injustice if we take a little time to consider what was in his consciousness: that he had succeeded in driving the development of human thought so far that a supreme goal had been achieved within this development of human thought. And the turning point just mentioned shows us how, after the first third of the nineteenth century, thinking, the intellectual life in particular, was brought to the point where, one might say, a kind of rest, a kind of breathing space, became necessary. Only minds that could approach their intellectual work with the same energy as Fichte, Schelling and Hegel could occupy themselves with the innermost and, if the word is not misunderstood, one can say, most abstract powers of the soul so intensely and powerfully. And one could not sustain the long breath that was necessary for that breadth of an idealistic worldview. The consequence of this was that a paralysis set in which, with regard to all that these very minds sought in the highest, testifies to a certain lack of understanding, one might say, to a certain paralysis, even today. As high as thinking, feeling and the purely spiritual will, which is directed not towards the external but towards the life of the soul itself, rose with Fichte, Schelling and Hegel, it was not possible to rise in the culture as a whole. The reality value in this striving could not be felt consistently. But it was felt that reality should be sought through this striving. And, as a continuation of this striving, a thirst arose for reality, a thirst for that on which man can stand firmly. This was expressed in the fact that one initially entered into a sharp opposition to all that the above-mentioned spirits had created. In their abstract trains of thought one could not find the reality for which one thirsted. And so it came about that the thirst for reality wanted above all to be satisfied by what the outer senses offered, that the human spirit wanted to penetrate first into all that the strict, safe natural science could establish, which was limited to the senses and the mind bound to the human brain, as a world view.

The leading spirit, by whose contemplation one can almost see what was at stake in this turning-point in modern spiritual life, is Feuerbach. One need only characterize a few thoughts of his world-view to see what is at stake. Feuerbach started precisely from Hegel. He started from the idealistic conception of the world which the German mind has created. But the living soul of Feuerbach was confronted with the question: What is all that a Hegel has been striving for? What can be found on the path that runs in such abstracted thought movements? There is nothing to be found that leads to the spirit itself. Everything that can be found on this path about the spiritual world is nothing more than what the soul creates out of itself, what the human soul finds within itself on the basis of the reality of the body, what it penetrates to. All that it has created, it projects out into the world, so to speak; that becomes its spiritual world. And so, out of the thirst for reality, a placing of the human being in the world-view picture arises, just as he is directly in the sense world. One wanted to take the human being as a whole human being, but precisely for that reason one had to omit from what one saw as reality what arose on the path of this spiritual life. And so man's attention was directed to how he presents himself within the realm that could now be called reality, the realm of the senses and what the brain-bound mind could make of this realm of the senses.

How did man stand before himself with such a world view? Man stood before himself in such a way that he could know: A spiritual world is opening up in you, a world is opening up in you that you must not miss if you want to partake of true human dignity. Something lives in you that must go far, far beyond nature. But how could man come to terms with what he had to bring forth within himself, to create within himself, and what could not appear to him as reality in the sense of the natural existence? This question, translated into the realm of feeling, forms, one might say, a crucial nerve of the entire world-view striving in the second half of the nineteenth century, indeed, into our own days. The human being who cannot justify himself to himself with what he produces spiritually: that became the great question, that became the anxious riddle of life, not so much in this formulation in which I express it, but in the sensations and feelings in which it pushed its way up from the depths of precisely the most striving souls.

And the spirits that emerged in the nineteenth century, which had to raise questions of world view and could not bring themselves to that faded tone in German intellectual life, as mentioned a few weeks ago, initially faced this very characterization of the life-question, world-view question in this way. It is as if for a time the strong forces could not be found among the leading exponents of the world view, in order to find anything at all that could provide an answer to the questions that have just been described. A remarkable fact presents itself here. Those who are philosophers, leading philosophers, who attempt to construct a Weltanschhauung out of natural science, all of them feel, as it were, this powerlessness just described. And this powerlessness fundamentally permeates nineteenth-century philosophy.

In a strange way, the Feuerbach worldview, and with it everything that now set the tone, was confronted by a musician, a personality in whom abstract thinking did not live so much, who initially did not want to follow the usual path of abstract thinking in matters of worldview, in order to arrive at the solution of the world's riddles. A personality was confronted with Feuerbach's question who, in his deepest inner being, lived and worked musically and wanted to work in this way: Richard Wagner. It was in the forties when Richard Wagner grappled with Feuerbach's world view in his soul. Before Richard Wagner's soul, in which everything was alive musically, not in concepts, ideas and thoughts, stood the man whom one had placed at the center of the world view and who, for the reasons characterized earlier, was first and foremost a mere sensual man. But this man was confronted by a soul that was musically active. The musical element lives and moves in the sensual realm. But it cannot live and weave only in the sensual, unless it is grasped as in the soul of Richard Wagner. Here in the musical, the sensual itself works as a spiritual, it must work as a spiritual. For if we turn our senses to nature, wherever we want, what is in the truest sense of the word musical content cannot come to us directly from nature. Goethe says: Music is the purest form and content, for it has no actual model in nature, as the other arts do. And yet, it makes a complete impression on the mind; and everything that makes an impression on the mind is spiritual. Thus in music there is an element that cannot be attained by following the paths of mere observation of nature, that cannot be seen by the human being that Feuerbach placed in the image of nature. And yet, in the realm of music, there is an element that, to an extraordinary degree, accommodated the urge of the time for sensory perception and sensory comprehension. And since Richard Wagner's soul lived in the remarkable (one cannot say discord, but rather consonance), being entirely musical, but not as a philosopher's soul, but rather as a musical soul, a soul seeking knowledge, it could not be otherwise than that in Wagner's musical ideas, in Wagner's musical feelings, the questions mentioned played a role in a completely different way than they could have done in a philosopher's soul.

And another element was added. It would be fascinating to characterize in detail how this second element came to be in Richard Wagner's soul. But there is no time for that. I will only hint at what this second element is and how it was added to the first. A second element is added: the contemplation of what had been created out of the Germanic spirit and soul within Central Europe in the way of myths and of the permeation of life with the mythical. Gradually, a wonderful contrast emerged in Wagner's soul, which, as it appeared in Central Europe, is nowhere else present in the spiritual development of mankind. And recently it appeared in Richard Wagner's soul like a renewal of Germanic myth. There we have an intimate coexistence and interweaving of the human soul with all that is elemental in nature, a loving engagement precisely with the sensually alive. It is to the Teutonic view of nature that we are appealing in these words, to that view of nature which can only live in souls that feel no direct discord between the soul and the physical in human life, because they sense the soul in such a way that this soul not only lives within the human being, but is one with that which blows in the wind, works in the storm, in everything that lives and pulsates in nature as soul and, I would say, the human being himself, who can be experienced inwardly, experienced again outwardly. And in addition to this feeling, this recognizing feeling and feeling-recognizing of nature, which is contained as a basic drive in all the abilities of the Germanic people, there is also a looking up to a world of gods that is well known, that can of course be interpreted in a naturalistic way, but this interpretation is at least one-sided. This upward gaze to Wotan, this upward gaze to Donar, this upward gaze to Baldur, to the other Germanic gods and to all that is connected with these Germanic gods in Germanic myth, this upward is really what the spiritual man finds when he does not merely direct himself towards nature, but when he abandons himself to his own productivity, his creative power. This world of Germanic gods and heroes and heroic geniuses is full of life. But it is not exhausted if it is seen as mere symbolism of nature.

Now Richard Wagner had taken up the view that the human being initially appears to be an end of nature's creation. What the human being forms in terms of ideas about a higher world arises in the human being. According to the newer world view, as it has just emerged, no such reality can be ascribed to it as to sensory things. The anxious question arose in him: How can one even come to a creative process in human life? Nature creates. It creates through its various stages of being up to and including the human being. The human being becomes aware of himself. The human being experiences what he produces. It appears merely as something created by the human being, which has no value in terms of reality. How can we have confidence in what the human being creates within himself? How can one trust it so that it forms a basis for man not merely to place himself in nature as it has created him, but so that he can place himself in the creation with something valid?

A figure, a central figure, had to arise in Wagner's soul, who would place himself in nature in this way, but also, with all the powers that nature itself has given him, give himself strength, security, and the ability to develop beyond the natural existence. But Richard Wagner had to assume that when man creates from his inner being, he is in fact only projecting the images that his imagination has produced, adding a non-real realm to the real realm. What right does the human soul have to create something beyond nature? This question of feeling and emotion arose. What right is there, already in the existence of nature itself, in the blowing wind, in lightning and thunder, to sense spirituality and even more: to create a spiritual being above all of nature, as in Germanic mythology? How can one find a link between the two? Philosophy could not do it in those days, insofar as it was the prevailing philosophy. Richard Wagner's musical soul undertook it. It actually undertook it out of an urge that was at the same time a deeply characteristic trait of the newer Central European essence in general. How so? Yes, if you compare what Germanic myth, the Germanic way of penetrating into the natural world, is with what Greek myth, Greek penetration into natural life, was, then only an external observer can believe that the two are in the same field. Because that is not the case. Here too it would be interesting to probe into the deeper psychological underpinnings, but again, one can only characterize them with a few sketchy strokes.

The whole of Greek intellectual life is geared towards looking outwards and creating myths from the plastic forms that the soul undertakes with what is presented by the outside world, bringing the myth to life in forms, in plastic forms. The way the Greek feels and senses is how his feeling and sensing passes from his own being into the external world, flows fully into external existence. And so the wonderfully rounded plastic forms come into being, which live within Greek myth and then out of Greek myth in Greek art.

The same is not true of Germanic myth. Only with great difficulty can one dream such complete forms, such as the forms that live in Greek myth, the figures of gods and heroes of Greek myth, into Germanic myth. If one does this, then fundamentally Germanic myth becomes something quite different. If one wants to understand Germanic myth, one must be able to let that sense of humanity lovingly enter into the nature of things without bringing it to plastic form; one must let this essence rise up to the figures of the gods Wotan, Donar, Baldur and so on. And one must also refrain from creating fixed, rounded figures up there. If one really wants to live oneself into this myth, then everything must remain mobile, so only mobile sculpture can express plastic movement, which was actually alive in the Germanic souls. But how can one, then, when one enters into the essence of the matter itself, find a bond between what is felt in nature, what directly confronts one in the sensory world, and what is seen above as the world of the gods? One can only do it – and one only knows that one can do it when one has absorbed the basic nerve of Germanic myth in the right way – one can only do it through musical feeling. There is no way to find those currents that the soul must follow from Wotan down into the existence of nature, and again up from the existence of nature into the life and weaving of the gods in Valhalla – there is no other possibility than musical intuition, that musical intuition which in what it has before it has immediately an inwardness, has a spiritual element that is completely sensually realized.

And that is the fundamental difference between that great epoch of human development that we feel as Greek and that which we feel as Germanic. In Greek intellectual life, the I was not yet so alive, human self-awareness was not yet so developed as it was to develop within Germanic intellectual life and up into German intellectual life. The Greek lived with his entire soul life more outwardly. What is significant in the progress of humanity is that in addition to this Greek life outwardly, there is the inner grasping, the inner strengthening. But the inner life cannot be grasped in a formative way. If it is to be felt artistically, it must be felt in music, just as the Greek life must be felt in sculpture. And just as there is a transition from the more self-free way of the Greek world view to the ego-permeated way of the newer world view, there is a transition from sculptural creation to musical feeling in the progress of humanity.

That is the tremendously significant thing, that Richard Wagner was the personality who, not out of the arbitrariness of the soul, but out of the experience of what pulsated in time itself, could have as his personal experience precisely that which was the experience of time. The musical element, which therefore had to be in the world view, was felt by the thoroughly musical soul of Richard Wagner. And so it came about that Richard Wagner, entirely out of the need of the time, out of the deepest nerve of the spiritual life of the time, was able to connect the myth with the musical element. And what the ongoing philosophy could not be, could not express in words, concepts and ideas, was expressed in the musical element. There it is. And when we have to experience the philosophical, when we have to experience the purely intellectual like a fading sound, one is tempted to say: the musical enters through Richard Wagner in the second half of the nineteenth century, and this musical becomes a substitute for the path of knowledge, which is otherwise sought in a completely different way.

And now, as events of this kind are bound to occur in the life of man as an inner destiny, something else occurred for Richard Wagner. His acquaintance with Feuerbach remained somewhat unsatisfactory for Richard Wagner. On the one hand, his passion for music was strong enough to enable him to find what could not be found by pure reasoning, but on the other hand, as is inevitable in our modern times, he was also driven to consciously absorb what he was doing, to consciously create enlightenment for himself about the relationship between his artistic work, which he perceived as completely new, and the deepest world secrets of existence. And here Schopenhauer's philosophy came to his aid. It is not so important to consider this philosophy as it must be taken objectively, but rather to consider it as it affected Richard Wagner. This Schopenhauerian philosophy showed him that man, when he clings to his intellectuality, to his mere imagination, can never penetrate the secrets of existence. He must draw much deeper forces from the depths of his being if he wants to live together with the secrets of the world. Therefore, for Schopenhauer, everything that was merely intellectual, everything that lived only in thoughts, in concepts, in ideas, was something that not only produced mere images of existence, but that had to produce such mere images that actually only give a dream of existence. But if the soul really wants to grow together with reality, it must not merely think, it must draw deeper forces from its depths. And Schopenhauer found that if man really wants to recognize the forces of existence, he cannot grasp them in thought, in imagination, but that he must grasp them in the living will, in the weaving of the will, not in intellectuality. And further, Schopenhauer was able to show how all that is valuable in the individual human being comes out of this element of will: all that is ingenious, all that is devotion and willingness to sacrifice for the world, yes, even compassion itself, which permeates everything moral. All this is connected with deeper forces than mere intellectuality. In short, man must go beyond the merely pictorial, the life of imagination, and connect himself with that in which the thirst for reality, of which we have spoken, can be more fully satisfied than in mere intellectuality, which is bound up with the physical life of the brain. But in what the will experiences, Schopenhauer not only found the center of the human personality, but in it he also found the center of all real art. All other arts, Schopenhauer imagines, must take the representations out of the will, must shape the images. There is only one art that does not become an image, but that is able to reveal the will directly to the outside world, as it reveals itself within man, and that is music. For Schopenhauer, musical art thus takes center stage in the whole of modern artistic life, and through this, one can also say that Schopenhauer senses something of the primal musical character of all true world-view striving. And even if one does not want to or perhaps cannot accept Schopenhauer's ideas, one must recognize in what Schopenhauer unconsciously felt about human will and its connection with the musical, something that in turn is most intimately connected with the lifeblood of intellectual life in modern times.

How must Richard Wagner, with his profoundly musical soul, have felt about a world view like Schopenhauer's, which showed him what music actually means in the overall world life? Did he not basically have before him in music that of which he had to say: however the scientific world view may shape itself, the fact of music will never be made clear or explainable in human nature by the scientific world view. Where man becomes musical, the spirit reigns in man, and yet there is no need to go into an abstract intellectuality, into abstract concepts, into a mere world of ideas, but one remains within the realm of the obvious. And the urge arose in Richard Wagner to now shape the music itself in such a way that he could feel it to be fulfilling, so to speak, such an ideal, which Schopenhauer tried to achieve in relation to his view of music. A performing, productive artist like Richard Wagner was in a different position from Schopenhauer, the philosopher, when it came to such truth. Schopenhauer, the philosopher, could only look at music as it presented itself to him. It appeared to him as an object, so to speak, and in it he sensed the rule and pulsation of the will. In Richard Wagner, the productive man, something different arose. He now really felt the urge to develop the musical element to such an extent that something would take effect in the musical element that he expressed, which would show exactly how the spiritual and the sensual can, one might say, consciously merge in music.

And from this point of view, “Tristan”, “Tristan and Isolde”, does indeed appear as the one work of art by Richard Wagner – after all, it was composed only after “Tannhäuser”, “Lohengrin” and so on – in which he consciously wanted to reshape the musical element in such a way that everything that was musically given as a means of expressing the weaving and working of the most sensual element was at the same time a metaphysical, a supersensible working in the most sensual element. Thus, in Richard Wagner, his ideal of the further development of the musical was truly something like an ideal of knowledge of modern times. And again, this ideal of knowledge of modern times is most consciously striven for by Richard Wagner in Tristan.

Tristan is the work that first kindled Friedrich Nietzsche's enthusiasm for Richard Wagner. The young Nietzsche sought to penetrate the music of Tristan. And this penetration into an element that was only sensual to the extent that a spiritual element pulsates everywhere in everything merely sensual — this penetration into Tristan became the occasion for Nietzsche's experience with Richard Wagner, with Richard Wagner's art, with Richard Wagner's philosophy; it was the occasion of the experience that Nietzsche had with Schopenhauer and with all that can now be linked to the interaction of the three souls, Nietzsche, Schopenhauer and Wagner. And for Nietzsche, who actually started out in philology but, with his ingeniously comprehensive mind, absorbed everything he could from philology, something special now begins, something with which, I would say, the introduction, the exposition is given to his life tragedy, which now actually unfolds with a wonderful inner necessity, despite its apparent contradictions. These apparent contradictions in Nietzsche's mental life are nothing other than the contradictions within a deeply moving, harrowing life drama, a life tragedy; they are the way contradictions in a tragedy must be, because life itself, when it flows in its depths, cannot exist without contradictions. What then is this deepest peculiarity of Nietzsche's soul life? Other minds that have striven in modern times, when they feel the need, form a certain world and life view, a sum of concepts and ideas, perhaps also another element of the soul that is supposed to lead into the secret depths of existence. when such minds, such souls, can come to find a certain lack of contradictions in the individual parts of the world view, they take up this world view, reject other things that contradict their world view, and thus live with their world view developed within them.

Nietzsche's soul was not at all suited to live like that. There is a fundamental difference between Nietzsche and all other people of world views. Nietzsche is not a productive spirit when compared to other people of conviction. Nietzsche would never allow himself to be compared, if one does not want to proceed externally, with productive minds or philosophers like Fichte, like Schelling, like Hegel, even with Feuerbach, even with Schopenhauer himself. Nietzsche is not a soul in whom thoughts arise directly, which seem credible to him, which are the basis for a certain opinion about the world. In this sense, Nietzsche's soul is not creative at all, even if it does not appear so at first glance to those who look at it superficially. Nietzsche's soul seems to be called to something else. While other men of world-views develop world-views, so to speak, strive to grasp the logical side of these world-views, it becomes necessary for Nietzsche to let what the most important world-views in the second half of the nineteenth century offer him affect his soul in such a way that the question of feeling arises in the soul: How can one live with these world-views? What do they give to the soul? How can the soul progress by allowing these world views to affect it? The world views of others become the vital questions, the world views that emerge as the most important world views in the second half of the nineteenth century. Can the soul become happily aware of its own value? Can it develop healthily under the influence of these or those world views? For Nietzsche, this is not the formulated question, but it is the question of his feelings, the inner urge that comes to life in his soul. Therefore, one can say: it was Nietzsche's destiny to experience the most important and prevailing worldviews of the second half of the nineteenth century in his own soul, to experience them inwardly, in terms of their value and fruitfulness.

And so it ignited, which had come to him from philology while he was still in his full youth – he even became a professor at the University of Basel before he had completed his doctorate, at the age of only twenty-four – so it ignited in him, first of all, what actually had to ignite in a mind that kept pace with its time. We have already characterized what lived and breathed and presented itself particularly in a spirit like Feuerbach, and in a spirit like Schopenhauer. And now it approached Nietzsche through the personality of Richard Wagner. What did Wagner become for Nietzsche in the 1860s? As strange as it may sound, Wagner basically became a problem of knowledge for Nietzsche. How can one live with what had become of the musician Richard Wagner in the sense of the newer development of the spirit, of the newer world-view, how can one live with that in a human soul that wants to experience the fertilizing forces of life within itself? That becomes the fundamental question for Nietzsche. And he must relate this fundamental question, which becomes a way of experiencing life for him, to his philology, to that which had come to life for him from the Greek, which was, after all, the most important subject of his studies. At first, the musical element in Tristan made such an overwhelming impression on Nietzsche that he felt: something truly new is entering into the development of the modern spirit, there is life that must bear fruit. But what are the more intimate connections through which this life can bear fruit for humanity as a whole?

In seeking an answer to this question, Nietzsche looked back to the Greeks. And through his perception of Richard Wagner's music and art, Greek culture presented itself to Nietzsche in a completely different light from the one that had been presented to him earlier. Nietzsche, at least, viewed what had been said about Greek culture before him as something one-sided. After all, Nietzsche believed that people had repeatedly and repeatedly wanted to draw attention to the cheerful element of the Greeks, to the element of the Greeks that was directly full of the joy of life, as if the Greeks were basically only the playing children of humanity. Nietzsche could not admit this from his view of Greek culture. Rather, it came to his mind how the best minds of ancient Greece felt the inner tragedy, the sorrowful nature of all physical-sensual existence, how they felt that a person who lives only within physical-sensual existence, when he has higher needs in his soul, must nevertheless remain completely unsatisfied. Only the soul can be satisfied within physical-sensual existence. And according to Friedrich Nietzsche, the Greeks were not dull and obtuse. On the contrary, as he saw it from a closer examination of this Greek character, the Greeks sensed the tragic, the sorrowful in their immediate existence, and they created art for themselves, in Nietzsche's opinion, everything they could produce from their spirit, precisely in order to overcome the disharmonies of sensual existence. They created art in their minds as an element that would lift them above the ambiguity of external sensual existence. For Nietzsche, Greek art became the harmonization of sensual existence. And it was clear to him that this striving for a spiritual content that transcends sensual content was intimately connected with the fact that the Greeks, even in their best period, had something within them that Schopenhauer directly called the will and that worked in man in the depths of the soul, which in the intellect, in understanding, in imagination only leads to images.

And in particular, Nietzsche liked to look back to the oldest Greek thought. Yes, in the oldest Greek philosophers, in Thales, Anaxagoras, in Heraclitus in particular, in Anaximenes and so on, Nietzsche found everywhere that they did not create as newer philosophers do through thinking, thinking and but by the fact that deep in their souls they still carried something of what worked in the subconscious element of the will, which could not be resolved in mere conception and which they incorporated into their world view. Nietzsche endeavored to present all the great lines in the beautiful treatises he wrote on philosophy in the tragic age of the Greeks. But in Socrates he recognized the man who, through mere intellectuality, had to some extent rejected the originally healthy, deeper forces of the will. Therefore, for Nietzsche, Socrates was the actual bringer of the intellectual element, but also the slayer of all original great potentialities for the spiritual development of mankind. And by introducing the Socratic era, which lasted until modern times and found its expression in world views, humanity replaced the mere dream of intellectuality with an elementary standing within that which is more than mere image, which is inner reality. Nietzsche now saw this in effect in Schopenhauer's assertion: that the idea is a mere image, but that the reality for which one thirsted lives in the depths, below the surface of mere idea, in the human element of will. In this Schopenhauerian assertion, Nietzsche found something that in turn went back to the age that had been replaced by the age of intellectuality. And Richard Wagner's art seemed to Nietzsche to be a renewal of the original art of humanity itself, something truly new compared to what humanity had cultivated as art before and what could not completely become art because it did not go down to the very elements of the human soul.

Thus, for Friedrich Nietzsche — from his view of Greek culture and from his view of the decline of the deeper human element in later Greek culture — Richard Wagner became a completely new phenomenon in the course of human development, a recovery of deeper artistic elements than had been present since the Socratic age. For that which can become a truly human world view and way of life must arise from these deeper foundations. In what art can it then live? In the musical alone can it live in the sense of Nietzsche. Therefore, that which otherwise appears as art must, in the sense of Nietzsche, be born out of the musical, out of a primal musicality. For him, Richard Wagner really became the figure Nietzsche was looking for, and who, I would like to say, solved the great doubts of his world view for him. For Richard Wagner was the one for him who did not philosophize about the deepest secrets of the world, but made music. And in the musical element lives the will element. But if one wants to find in the development of mankind itself that from which all art must have sprung, including poetry, one must go back to an age in which the musical element lived, albeit in a naive, more primitive way than in Richard Wagner, but still as music.

From such sentiments, Nietzsche's idea for his first work emerged: “The Birth of Tragedy out of the Spirit of Music.” For that which otherwise lived artistically had to have emerged from the element of musicality. And so Nietzsche's first work, I would like to say, was transferred to art the world view of Schopenhauer from the effect of will as a real element compared to mere imagination. And Richard Wagner was the fulfillment of what was necessary for Nietzsche. One must imagine these things as they must have lived as the inner experience of a soul as thirsty for knowledge as Nietzsche's was. All the happiness that Nietzsche could experience, all the fulfillment of longings and hopes that could come to him, were given to him by the fact that he could say to himself: What has been destroyed by Socratism, by intellectualism, in the development of mankind, can be revived. For all art will arise from the musical element, as Greek tragedy arose from the musical element. And Richard Wagner is already showing the dawn. So it will arise.

Nietzsche's relationship with Richard Wagner is both a very personal matter and a question of insight. What is significant about Nietzsche's own spiritual life is that he does not present what he strives for as his ideals, that he does not say: this or that must happen. Thus, what he considers necessary to realize does not initially arise from his own soul, but he always looks to Richard Wagner's soul, and in the way Richard Wagner lives as an artist, he also finds the answers to the questions he must ask as his own insights. That is the significant thing in Nietzsche's life.

And now Nietzsche becomes a critic of his time, a critic, I might say, above all of what presents itself to him in German intellectual life in the last third of the nineteenth century. And as such a critic, Nietzsche writes his four “Untimely Reflections.” There should have been many more. But for reasons that will become apparent in our reflections, there remained only four. In the living experience of Richard Wagner's work, in grasping what was at work in Wagner's music, Nietzsche saw the effect of man and his soul reaching out beyond mere nature, the possibility of finding something, even if one stops at the sensual element, of finding something that carries man beyond mere nature. And now Nietzsche faced the world with this conviction that man, if he understands himself deeply enough below the mere intellectual element, can truly come to the spiritual. In this conviction, Nietzsche turned to what the time had now produced. One must ask: What did Nietzsche find first? He found that the age had been overwhelmed by Feuerbachianism, by this focus on the mere sensual and on the intellect bound to the brain, in the strict sense, if not in the broader sense, by all that had now developed into the prevailing world view.

Of course, I know very well that there may be all kinds of philosophers who say: Oh, philosophy has long since gone beyond materialism. — But even if one supposes that in the whole way of thinking, in the habits of thinking, one is still deeply immersed in it even today. And Nietzsche saw around him how deeply his time was steeped in it. And he now chose a characteristic personality: David Friedrich Strauß — Strauß, who had also started out from Hegelianism, who had come from Hegelianism to a world view that he then expressed in his “Old and New Belief”, who had gone completely from Hegelianism to the materialistic coloring of Darwinism , who saw nothing in the external world, including now also the world of man, but only natural development, who believed that man, if he stood firmly on the ground of newer knowledge, could basically no longer be a Christian, because he should not accept the spiritual ideas that Christianity demands of one. Nietzsche took on this David Friedrich Strauß, so to speak. But Nietzsche did not proceed as a philosopher usually does, but differently. For Nietzsche, it was not the image of nature that was there first, not some scientific habit of thought, but for Nietzsche there was the feeling: if the development of world view continues in direct spiritual life, then it will continue as it begins with what emerges from the music and from the whole art of Richard Wagner.

What then is the position with regard to the world-view of David Friedrich Strauss, which is regarded by many as the only valid modern philosophical system, in the light of the spiritual development that may be achieved through the permeation of spiritual evolution by the art of Richard Wagner? This is the question Nietzsche had to ask himself. He did not ask himself: Is this or that in Strauss's system false? Can this or that be refuted? That was not the issue for Nietzsche at all; rather, the issue for Nietzsche was to show what kind of soul and spiritual element of humanity lives in a worldview like Strauss's, what kind of person is needed to produce such a worldview, a worldview that clings only to the gross material and the sensual. What sort of person must one be who produces such materialism, what sort of person must one be who is a mere Philistine, in contrast to the spiritual man, in contrast to the man who allows the spirit to work in everything that lives and moves in him, in contrast to Richard Wagner? He must be a Philistine! That the world-view of modern times has become so materialistic because the Philistine element has poured itself out in it, that is what Friedrich Nietzsche wanted to show in his untimely consideration “David Friedrich Strauß, the Philistine and Writer”. Later he changed the title to “... Confessor and Writer”.

And so he shows everywhere how a certain trivial way of thinking, how trivial habits of thought, how philistine a nature prevent David Friedrich Strauß from seeing the spiritual in the sensual. And Friedrich Nietzsche continued to compare what he experienced as a living sensation in the personality of Richard Wagner with what is present in the current education under the influence of the materialistic way of thinking. And further, he asks himself: What is the relationship between a productive person like Richard Wagner, who brings the inner forces of the human soul to the surface of his work, and what lives in the ongoing highly respected and admired time formation? And there Nietzsche finds: This time formation has become such that it now gasps and breathes heavily under its abundance of external knowledge, under its abundance of history. To a certain extent, one knows everything or at least seeks to know everything, seeks to relate everything to history. One can give a historical answer to any question. But to bring to life in oneself what one knows, to give birth to something human out of the soul, is paralyzed by the abundance of the historical. And so man gnaws at what he absorbs historically – whether he absorbs it historically from history or from science is no longer important – man gnaws and suffocates on the historical. And by gobbling up the historical, what should come out of him, what man should freely bring out of himself as spirit, gets stuck in the depths of his being. “The Use and Abuse of History for Life” is the second ‘Untimely Reflection’.

And then Nietzsche turns his gaze to Schopenhauer himself, to a mind — as Schopenhauer was in Nietzsche's sense — who had managed to see everything that lives externally as mere ‘dream’, to regard everything that lives externally as mere 'dream', so far as to regard history itself as nothing more than a sum of repetitive life sequences that only acquire value if one is able to take into account that which lives itself out in them and behind them. Nietzsche regards a mind like Schopenhauer's, which must see the greatness of man entirely in terms of productivity, as the ideal of a human being. Again, he compares the time with what such an ideal of humanity represents. It becomes clear to him: if we look at this or that person, if we look at the third or fourth person – what are they all, compared to what could appear from Schopenhauer's philosophy as the full human being? As I said, one may have whatever opinions one likes, be a follower or an opponent, it does not matter, but what does matter is how Schopenhauer influenced Nietzsche. What are individual people, even the most learned and knowledgeable, compared to such a human personality, who sought to shape from the soul that which lived humanly in its universality? They are the patchwork of life, and therefore the whole of culture is patchwork. That a renewal, a revitalization of the whole of culture can take place under the influence of that which now lives in Schopenhauer's philosophy of complete humanity, and that this is urgently necessary, is shown by Nietzsche in the third of his “Untimely Meditations”: “Schopenhauer as Educator”.

But then, as the Bayreuth festival approached, he wanted to describe the positive side first. Like the other two “Untimely Meditations,” “Schopenhauer as Educator” is also dedicated to the critique of the time. But what can be given by the productive man of the time, how the time is to be renewed, how out of what lives in the depths of man's soul, something new must flow into the time, that appeared to Nietzsche in the art of Richard Wagner. It now really understood how to grasp the sensual directly so that it presented itself as a supersensual. “Richard Wagner in Bayreuth” - the fourth ‘Untimely Consideration’, 1876, was intended to show what Wagner could become for the world.

Now, for Nietzsche's soul life, this writing ‘Richard Wagner in Bayreuth’ was at the same time, in a certain respect, a farewell to his friendship with Richard Wagner. From then on, the friendship quickly began to cool and basically soon ceased.

And now let us again take the whole inwardness of Nietzsche's soul, the whole weight that weighed on it from questions of world view, and let us add to this that Richard Wagner has become something like the content of Nietzsche's soul, like that towards which he has focused all his thinking and feeling and perceiving. And he must separate from Richard Wagner! And the separation becomes complete when Richard Wagner writes his “Parsifal”. We have a number of things in the Nietzsche publications that are intended to point to the real reason why Nietzsche separated from Wagner. Not even the words that Nietzsche himself communicates about his separation from Richard Wagner seem to me to be convincing. For a personality as artistic as Friedrich Nietzsche was, a personality that must also have felt all of the life of the world view permeated by the artistic, such a personality cannot possibly view “Parsifal” as an entirely unappealing because he believed that Richard Wagner had previously depicted the pagan world of the gods, Siegfried and the others, and now, as a kind of counter-reformer, had swung back to Christianity. What Nietzsche describes as falling down before the cross, and what he is said to have found distasteful, does not appear convincing when one looks at the full range of both Wagner's and Nietzsche's intellectual lives. For ultimately it would come down to the trivial view that Friedrich Nietzsche could not have walked with the work of art that is Parsifal because of the content of Parsifal; he would have fallen away because of a disagreement with the theory. It would be a terrible thing if we had to think in these terms about Friedrich Nietzsche's falling away from Richard Wagner. There was something quite different here, something that, I believe, can only be found if we attempt to use a more profound psychology to uncover the actual underlying reasons. In this short lecture, however, we can only sketch out these ideas.

What did Richard Wagner actually achieve? We have seen that in his basic soul feeling, he started from Feuerbachian materialism, passed over to a feeling of the Schopenhauerian world view, but was actually always imbued with the life element of musicality. Everything he has written, even in theory, is only parallel to this musicality. And in music – if I may express myself trivially – he pointed out the way in which the transcendental, the spiritual, can be found by penetrating into the sensual. But he also started from the assumption that one cannot find the real, the thing for which the sense of reality thirsts, by the path of the intellectual, I might say in that rarefied human spiritual life that was played out in Fichte, Schelling and Hegel. One had to put the whole, full human being into it, and basically only the sensual man emerged. We have seen how only music gave the sensual and the supersensual at the same time. For Richard Wagner, then, man was at the center of his world view. But one had to penetrate into all depths of man, and according to the whole nature of Richard Wagner's soul, Wagner could only penetrate into these depths of man musically. Musically he sought to penetrate – I say intentionally: musically he sought to penetrate – the depths of the human soul in Parsifal. In the music of Parsifal, we have before us a musical work that shows how man can be conceived, felt and sensed at the center of an anthroposophically effective world view, so that the sensual, the musical, becomes so spiritual that it seizes the finest, most intimate sides of the human soul. For that is what happens in the resolution of the Grail problem in Parsifal.

Richard Wagner could only achieve this because in his life of feeling, which was completely permeated by the musical element, he had progressed from Feuerbach through Schopenhauer to the direct grasp of that which lives in humanity that exists beneath the purely intellectual and abstract soul element. Richard Wagner, in his own way and principally as a musician, had reached the spiritual man in his “Parsifal”.

Richard Wagner was Nietzsche's object of study. Up until 1876, Nietzsche actually lived much more in Richard Wagner than in himself. He saw in Richard Wagner what he hoped for and strove for in the development of the modern spirit. He did not draw it from his own soul as an ideal. Nietzsche was young and enthusiastic, young and ingenious when he encountered Richard Wagner. In Richard Wagner, a world-view and philosophy of life that was already fully developed in a later stage of development confronted him. What Wagner had gone through to bring his soul into such a feeling, which could come to 'Parsifal' through 'Siegfried', what Richard Wagner experienced in his soul, the harrowing thing that had to be lived through, it had already been lived through when Nietzsche approached Wagner. What was already balanced, already filled with harmony, already promising the future, was what Friedrich Nietzsche encountered when he met Richard Wagner and, I would like to say, made him his object of knowledge. Nietzsche was able to fully absorb what Richard Wagner had gone through in the 1850s, for example, when he wrote down words like the one he wrote to Röckel in 1854 about his deeply suffering feeling about the essence of the world. This deeply suffering feeling about the essence of the world had to be transformed into inner soul strength, into activity. And when Nietzsche came closer to Richard Wagner in the 1860s, he was able to experience in Wagner what the suffering of the soul had become. He, Nietzsche, was able to experience it already in the radiance of a light that shone with hope. Words such as those written to Uhlig in 1852 also show how Richard Wagner knew suffering, which Nietzsche sensed in the Greeks, but which Nietzsche only looked at and observed in its balance in Richard Wagner. Words such as those Wagner wrote to Uhlig show how Richard Wagner came to know this suffering. Before he had come to sense the power in the human soul that can lead to the Temple of the Grail, that can lead to the Siegfried energy, he had come to know doubt of all that is small and human, doubt that is the very foundation on which the great and human must build. Thus Richard Wagner writes: “In general, my views on the human race are growing ever darker, my dear friend; more often than not I feel I must express the conviction that this species is bound to perish completely.”

You only have to take this context to hear the most intimate strings of the human soul resonate: before the hero who “through compassion, knowing” penetrates to the temple of the Grail, lies all that one can experience in human doubt and human suffering when one looks at what is around one, especially in a materialistic time. Richard Wagner has gone through the ascent from suffering to the exercise of creativity. And he basically stood radiant as a victor before Nietzsche when he first met him. But Nietzsche, as a young man, knew how to look sympathetically, sensitively at this victorious nature.

But for Nietzsche it was the case that the youthful power living in him was able to rise to meet that which confronted him in Richard Wagner, but not later the matured power, which had cast off youthful enthusiasm and the breadth of feeling and now wanted to shape out of itself. Richard Wagner had gone through Feuerbachianism. Nietzsche did not go through it, Nietzsche did not suffer from Feuerbachianism, Nietzsche did not first get to know the all-too-human before he allowed the high and ideal and spiritual-human in Richard Wagner to have an effect on him. And that seems to me to be the psychological reason why the soul of Friedrich Nietzsche now fell back into Feuerbachianism, if we take it in the broader sense, was overwhelmed.

Now, when Friedrich Nietzsche could no longer keep up, everything that stemmed only from enthusiasm and should have come from the power of deeper understanding fell away from him. He had to let go and undergo for himself what Richard Wagner had already mastered. Then the second period in Nietzsche's life began, which begins with the publication of the collection of aphorisms “Human-All Too Human,” which then continues with “The Wanderer and His Shadow” to “Dawn” and “The Gay Science , where Nietzsche attempts to come to terms with the scientific worldview, with everything within the scientific worldview that, in the modern era, must be the basis for any higher philosophical worldview.

And that is the tragedy of Friedrich Nietzsche's soul, the terrible tragedy, that he had previously experienced the greatest thing in youthful enthusiasm and now, when he came to himself, he had to descend, so to speak, consciously descend, in order to recognize the all-too-human in its connections with natural facts, after the highest human. But Nietzsche had the courage within him to go through this difficult path of knowledge. He had the courage to ask himself: What does this soul life look like when we look at it in the light of science? When we look at it in the light of science, man has passions. They seem to arise from the depths of his will, but if we look more closely, we find all sorts of purely physiological reasons, reasons of this bodily life. We find that man lives out concepts and ideas. But we find the mechanical causes for these ideas and concepts everywhere. Finally, we find ideals in human life. Man says to himself that these ideals are something divine. But when we investigate what man actually is, we see how he gives birth to his ideals out of his physiological element, out of his bodily element, and how he only dreams them into something that is said to have been given to him by the gods. What man perceives in everyday life as his longings born out of the body, what is born out of the flesh, out of the blood, what presents itself to him as ideals, but what does not come from higher spiritual worlds, but is just like the foam that rises from the bodily life, is not the highest human – humanly all-too-human. |

Nietzsche, after having lived through all that the nineteenth century in its second half could give him through Schopenhauer and Richard Wagner, had to form his own view of his soul, which science could give him, and he had to undergo, in particular, — his writing, with which he begins this period of his life was dedicated to Voltaire. He had to undergo what one might call a plunge into that dead science, the science of mechanism, of the dead in contrast to the living, which Fichte claimed was the truly German world view. In the second period of his life, Nietzsche was overwhelmed by a Western world view. He completely immersed himself in this Western world view. But it did not become for him a mere sensation of thought; he could not absorb it like a Western mind. He absorbed it after having stood for so long in the primeval Germanic, German world-view. It became for him, for example, that all the perspectives which the soul-materialists later drove out of these world-views lay within it. With a keen mind, Nietzsche was able to show how everything that was called an ideal and that which one believes to have received as a gift from God could arise out of the needs of human nature, which are connected with flesh and blood. Nietzsche himself expressed it thus: all his ideals seemed to him to have been frozen, to have become cold, because they appeared to him to have arisen out of the humanly-all-too-human. Indeed, what small minds and dull minds have produced by developing this process of Nietzsche's world view development to excess is already present in Nietzsche, but in such a way that, while it is ingenious in Nietzsche, in those who then built on it it is the opposite of ingenious. One could even say that the whole dullness of modern psychoanalysis is already contained in Nietzsche's second period of development, with all that was tried to be derived from human nature in a materialistic-spiritualistic way. Small minds say to themselves: Well, we can investigate that, and the truth must be accepted. — So small minds can even accept, for example, deriving from Schopenhauer that all striving for a worldview, all striving for spiritual connection with the world, that goes beyond mere factual science — yes, it is not a fairy tale that I am telling — is a consequence of human sexuality. So that all philosophy for certain minds of the present has its basis in human sexuality, for all spiritual striving is rooted in human sexuality. Of course, Nietzsche, who saw the original basis, the justified original basis for the soul in the physiological, in the purely natural, was too ingenious and, I might say, too tactful to go beyond the cognitive. But he did not merely have to develop a world view. Smaller minds simply say to themselves: This is truth, one must accept it. So one must also accept as truth that philosophy is only a consequence of sexuality. But Nietzsche had to experience above all to look at the fruitful in human nature, which can be influenced by a truth. Knowledge as destiny of life, that is the characteristic in Nietzsche's psychological tragedy. And so something began to live in Nietzsche's soul in this second epoch of his psychological life. Nietzsche was too great to let it go far, but it continued to work as a background of disgust for a merely naturalistic psychology, for a merely naturalistic explanation of everything moral, as he had attempted it, the disgust for what can arise when one continues in this field, which seems so justified, which seems so justified, in a materialistic psychology, — the disgust. Now imagine the tragedy in such a development of the soul, which first experiences all of humanity's fruitful happiness in Schopenhauer and Richard Wagner and then, through the necessary development and the connection with this necessary development of time, as Nietzsche himself had , to develop a world view in which the experience begins to be met with disgust at the point of the soul life, and the necessity to save himself from the disgust of life.

We are now close to and in the eighties of the nineteenth century with regard to Friedrich Nietzsche's soul life. From the natural scientific world view, he had gained something for his soul life that showed him the beginning of disgust with all the bitterness with which disgust can thus prevail in the soul, deep within. And what Nietzsche tried to express in The Gay Science is basically nothing other than an intoxicated way of leading us away from the disgust that does not come to consciousness. For of course, one suffers from this disgust, but such things remain in the subconscious. It is not expressed. Something is expressed in the soul that veils the disgust, that covers it up: “Happy Science” – in the sentences, in the expressed content. That which I had to characterize as lying in the depths of the soul then forms the transition to another kind of world view, which Nietzsche now had to experience further from a certain deepening of the natural scientific life of the nineteenth century, as he also carried it into the understanding of the soul life.

And now something developed in Nietzsche's soul – of which one can say: it absorbed, like a continuous drive, this primeval Germanic that lived in Richard Wagner, in Schopenhauer – now something strange lived itself out in Nietzsche. Now comes the last period of his life, which then leads to the catastrophe. And in this catastrophe, without one realizing it if one does not go deeper into the foundations of his soul life, what he had taken from Western philosophy, namely from French moral philosophy, , from Guyau, from Stendhal, but also from others in whom he had completely immersed himself, and what he had gained from these in connection with a deeper understanding of Darwinism, that worked together with the Eastern European element. One cannot understand the last period in Friedrich Nietzsche without considering how, in all his feelings, in everything he felt and thought, the same element was shining forth that, for example, permeates Dostoyevsky's art as a psychological element in Dostoyevsky. This peculiarity of the Russian East, that in the directly natural the whole human being is grasped, but in such a way that this directly natural is also seen and felt as the living out of the spiritual, that the instincts are felt spiritually at the same time, that what is not felt physiologically, as in the West and in Central Europe, but is felt spiritually — that now pushed its way into Nietzsche, into the soul on which that which I have just characterized had settled in a shattering way. Into this soul flowed all the riddles of worldviews from the West and the East. In mere scientific and physiological soul-contemplation, he could see the all-too-human. But it would have become repulsive if he had pursued it further. Now he drew a deepening from the contemplation of human life itself. Only now did he actually approach human life, where this contemplation was stimulated in him, namely through the influence of Dostoyevsky.

And now an urge arose in him, a longing for a spiritual deepening of what is merely presented in the sensual world. And this urge, this longing, could only be expressed lyrically in this last period of his life, because of his talents. And that is connected with the uncreative in Nietzsche. He needed what had an effect on him; that he could experience. For him, creative spirits could become objects, like Richard Wagner. Whatever created the world view of his time could become an object for him. What flashed and lit up in the second period of his life, the period of Human-All-Too-Human and so on, as a future soul-creation, now entered the sphere of Nietzsche's third period. Man became for him such that Nietzsche said to himself: This man must be placed at the center of the world view — but not in the sense in which anthroposophy appears in Troxler in the sense of the lecture that I was able to give here a few weeks ago. He would have been able to find him had Nietzsche been what one might call an epic-dramatic nature. If someone is of an epic-dramatic nature, they can go out of themselves to the contemplation of the spirit, then they develop the spiritual world, then they create it. Nietzsche was not like that; Nietzsche was of a lyrical nature. In order for that which was yearning in him, that which was urge and drive in him, to come to life, Nietzsche needed something to meet him in the outside world. A spiritual world did not arise from his soul. And so, when he sought the higher man in man, this man could only arise, I would say, in his lyricism, because lyricism, the lyrical element, is the basic element of the work Also sprach Zarathustra , where Nietzsche wanted to show how nature emerges from its merely natural state to become human, but also how man can go beyond nature to become a superhuman, how man can become a superhuman by continuing the development of nature. But because Nietzsche was only lyrical in his entire soul, this superhuman arose in him as a longing. And basically, in all that confronts you in the lyrically so great, so powerful work “Also sprach Zarathustra”, nowhere can you grasp the superhuman. Where does he live then? Where do we encounter him in some form? Where do we encounter something that could live as a higher human being in man and lead man beyond nature? Where do we find something that would describe him? Everywhere we encounter lyrically shaped longings, everywhere we encounter great, powerful lyricism, but nowhere do we find anything that can be grasped intellectually, so to speak. Nietzsche could now encounter as much as an indefinite, foggy image of a superhuman in the third period of his life.

And another nebulous one. Nietzsche could say to himself: When I look at this human life, it presents itself to me in such a way that I have to experience it as formed out of certain preconditions. But it must carry within itself preconditions that correspond to all real forms of nature and spirit. And the thought was already alive in Nietzsche: the plant develops from the root to the flower and fruit, and in the fruit the germ; and the germ is again the starting point for the root, and from the root the plant comes again. A cycle, a becoming that takes place rhythmically, that returns to itself: eternal return of human existence is the idea that arises in Nietzsche. But where is that contained – which again could arise from an epic-dramatic nature – that in present human life really shows the spiritual-soul as a core or germ, as something that would repeat itself in a later life on earth? Abstract eternal return occurs in Nietzsche, but not a concrete grasp of the real spiritual-soul in man. Longing for that which can take shape beyond the sensual human being, longing for the rhythm of life that occurs in recurring earthly lives, but an inability to see into these great mysteries of existence: the third period of Nietzsche's work.

The first period gives him a person for his longings and hopes, for his thirst for knowledge, whom he can put before him. This person ultimately becomes, I would say, like the mysteries of nature can become for the observer. One penetrates as far as one oneself has the predispositions of what one wants to seek within oneself. One cannot go further. Thus Nietzsche was able to penetrate Richard Wagner as far as Nietzsche himself carried the potential for Richard Wagner's world and life view. A person in the first period of their life, the science of the present in the second period of their life, which is now supposed to fulfill their hopes and desires. What is ready for the future in the present as spiritual germs, in a spiritual science as we are thinking of it today, must develop out of the general realization that the higher spiritual man lies in the sensual man, that in one earth life lies the sequence of earlier earth lives and the starting point of later earth lives, of that which is not yet there, which can therefore only work as something indeterminate, as nebulous. Nietzsche must also live through this: a man of the present who confronts him as a complete human being; natural science, which satisfies the thirst for reality of modern times; the indeterminate longings of the times themselves, which he is not yet able to shape.

These are the successive external facts that confronted, that had to confront, Friedrich Nietzsche in an age that, so to speak, wanted to draw breath within the development of German thought after the intellectual development had reached a climax, a point where thoughts really mystically enter the spiritual world. For it is a Schopenhauerian delusion, it is a Nietzschean delusion, it is a delusion of all those who in the second half of the nineteenth century surrendered to the delusion that Hegel's thoughts were only intellectualistic. But this belief had to arise because people did not have the breadth of breathing to carry themselves up to the height and energy of Hegel's world view. But this breathing had to arise for the simple reason that Hegel and the other minds that belong to him had indeed ascended to supersensible concepts, but in these supersensible concepts there is nothing supersensible in them. Look at the whole of Hegel's philosophy: it is decidedly based on supersensible concepts. It consists of three parts: a logic that consists of supersensible concepts, a natural philosophy, and a philosophy of spirit that only encompasses the human soul between birth and death, that which is realized in the material world and so on. In short, spiritual knowledge is only applied to what is around us in the material world. Supersensible knowledge is there. But supersensible knowledge does not recognize anything supersensible. Therefore, in the second half of the nineteenth century, this supersensible knowledge, which does not recognize anything supersensible, had to lead to it being described as completely unsatisfactory, so to speak, and to people turning to the material world itself. the musical element could enter, could create the bridge over to the time when people tried to grasp the path directly from the spiritual, through spiritual knowledge itself, which we will talk about in more detail tomorrow. This is what was significant for spiritual life in the second half of the nineteenth century and up to the present day. Nietzsche's harrowing psychological experiences arose from the perishing of supersensible knowledge and the overwhelming of the human soul by mere sensory knowledge, from clinging to that which now entered as a substitute from a completely different world.

How a deep soul had to suffer tragically in an age that had no depth in the prevailing currents of thought can be seen in Nietzsche's soul, and that is basically the tragedy that took place in Nietzsche's soul : the striving for depth, for an experience in the depths, which should have been there if Nietzsche was to have come to satisfaction, which was not there and which finally plunged Nietzsche's spirit into utter despair. I need not go into the physiological and medical background of his illness, but what took place in his soul is at least characterized in its main lines in what I have tried to characterize. And so we see how this life of world-view, which is so overwhelmed by the current of materialism, affects a soul that, by its very nature, strives beyond materialism; how, when the human soul has a deeper need, mere materialism or mere positivism, or in general what the second half of the nineteenth century was able to bring such a soul, must have a tragic effect. That is why it seems so tragic when we see how Nietzsche, at the beginning of his literary career, when he wrote his Birth of Tragedy, tying in with the great personality of Richard Wagner, entered in the copy that he sent to Richard Wagner himself: “Create the day's work of my hands, great spirit, that I may complete it!” In the intimate dedication that he addresses to Richard Wagner, Nietzsche implores the great spirit of the world to deliver to him a day's work in which he can experience what his soul wants to experience, and through which he can describe to humanity how one experiences the spirit in sensual earthly life, how man leads his soul beyond the merely natural, so that he too can find the way into the spiritual. The tragedy was bound to be fulfilled because the nineteenth century could not give Nietzsche what he had implored of the great spirit. The spirit could not supply the daily bread of his hands. The spirit of the nineteenth century could not supply it, and so it could not be completed by it either.

So it is that in what Nietzsche later created, especially at the end of his conscious life on earth, before his life passed into derangement, we have scraps, individual statements, aphorisms, drafts, notes from and about questions of world view. But basically, we have everywhere rudiments, questions, riddles that peer like the sphinx into the spiritual future of mankind. This may be said in the face of the fact that Nietzsche is also among those minds that are now so denounced by the enemies of Central Europe: In Friedrich Nietzsche's soul there lived questions, there lived world-view riddles in an immediately personal way, which will shine forth—whether in connection with the personality of Friedrich Nietzsche or separated from it, because Friedrich Nietzsche, after all, also only took them from the faithfully co-experienced world-view life of the nineteenth , but in the entire spiritual development of mankind, in a perhaps still distant future, and which will find satisfactory answers, but only when one—which Nietzsche could not yet fully do—will fully understand, with feeling, the deepest meaning of what Goethe meant when he quoted the saying of an old spiritual researcher, in which it is pointed out that man can indeed penetrate into the depths of the world, but that he must first find this depth within himself through self-knowledge, yes, must create it within himself. Nietzsche was on this path in his consideration of Richard Wagner, but could not go this path to the end. This path will prove again and again the truth of this saying attributed by Goethe to an ancient spiritual researcher, by which Goethe wants to express that we can find every depth, every infinite depth in the things of the world, if we have first gained the deepening in our own self-knowledge. Goethe expresses it in the words with which we want to conclude this reflection today:

If the eye were not sunlike,
How could we behold the light?
If the divine power of God were not within us,

Yes, a person only sees as much light in the world as they are able to ignite within themselves. A person only finds as much divinity in the world as they are able to shape within themselves through self-knowledge.

in view of the imminent founding of the International Anthroposophical Society at Christmas

(following Rudolf Steiner's evening lecture) Minutes taken by Helene Finckh

Albert Steffen greets Dr. Steiner and those present and says: Today's meeting is an assembly of delegates to which every member has been invited. He proposes the election of a committee of elders: Dr. Steiner, Mr. Geering, Dr. Grosheintz, Albert Steffen, Dr. Lagutt, and adds: “Now I would like to ask this committee of elders to discuss the question of how many delegates each branch should appoint.

Rudolf Geering comments.

Dr. Steiner: So now we will probably come to an understanding in the bosom of old age as to how many delegates each branch would like to nominate. And I will then take the liberty of asking the delegates themselves whether they will also give their consent. But I would ask you to bear in mind that if an elders' committee is elected, it is always elected on the basis that it is considered wise. So it is assumed that it has extremely good reasons for what it does. So it will simply be a matter of deciding how many delegates should be nominated by each branch.

Albert Steffen proposes allowing two delegates from each of the Swiss branches.

Dr. Steiner: It has been proposed to allow two delegates from each of the Swiss branches. This would mean that each branch represented here would have two delegate votes. So even if only one delegate is present from any one branch, he would also have two votes, including for this evening. However, if there is no delegate at all, I don't know who should cast the two votes.

Now I ask the most honored elders whether they agree with this proposal? (The answer is affirmative.) Since the elders agree, I now ask the delegates to express whether they have any objections or want to make a different proposal. — It seems that this is not the case. Then we would need to record the votes of the individual branches. We have the following branches: the branch at the Goetheanum. The two votes are present, but who exercises them?

Albert Steffen: We could do it this way, Doctor, that these two votes be represented by the whole working committee.

Dr. Steiner: So: the working committee! — Then there is the “New Generation” branch. Are these two votes represented? Who exercises them?

Answer: Mr. Stokar and Mr. Storrer.

Dr. Steiner: Basel branch: Dr. Lagutt, Mr. Geering; substitutes: Mr. Rudolf Hahn and Dr. Oskar Grosheintz. Bern branch: Miss Ramser, Miss Knüpfer. Zurich branch: Ms. Weiß, Dr. Hugentobler. St. Gallen branch: Mr. Dürler, Mr. Knopfli. Olten: Mr. Wulschleger is present and [probably Mr. Widmer]. Romanshorn:? Rorschach:? Neuchâtel: Mr. Hotz. Kreuzlingen: Miss Müller. Schaffhausen: Mr. Gnädinger. There is no one present from Lugano.

That makes 22 votes. So the simple majority: 12 votes, two-thirds majority: 15 votes. So the voting ratio would be: simple majority with 12 votes, two-thirds majority, if any comes into consideration, with 15 votes. The meeting is now constituted. And the next step would be for this meeting to elect its officers. Does anyone wish to speak on this matter?

Albert Steffen: Perhaps I may propose Dr. Steiner himself as chair of this assembly of delegates?

Dr. Steiner: If there is to be a discussion about this, I would ask you to take the chair for a moment. (This happens. Mr. Steffen's proposal is accepted.)

Albert Steffen: So it is unanimously approved.

Dr. Steiner: Then thank you very much and I will try to lead the chairmanship. — There will then be further elections for a secretary and two assessors.

Willy Stokar would like to propose Dr. Guenther Wachsmuth as secretary.

Dr. Steiner: It has been proposed that Dr. Wachsmuth be elected as secretary. If any of the delegates have any objections, I would ask them to raise their hands. – That does not appear to be the case. Then I would ask Dr. Wachsmuth to take on the role of secretary.

Now I would like to ask you to propose two assessors. Does anyone wish to comment on this? — Dr. Hugentobler and Dr. Grosheintz have been proposed. Does anyone wish to speak on this?

Dr. Grosheintz: Proposes Mr. Steffen. Dr. Lagutt: Proposes Mr. Steffen.

Dr. Steiner: Does anyone else wish to make a proposal? — Does anyone wish to speak about the proposals? — If not, we will proceed to the vote. Shall we vote by acclamation? — I ask those friends who are in favor of voting by acclamation to raise their hands. — (The vote is by acclamation.) The following have been proposed: Dr. Hugentobler and Dr. Grosheintz.

Albert Steffen: I ask those friends who are in favor of electing the two gentlemen as assessors to raise their hands. (It happens.) – The two gentlemen have been elected as assessors.

We had actually intended that the delegates who have come from outside should be given the floor first, so that they themselves can speak about what we have recommended they study.

Dr. Steiner: So it has been suggested that the esteemed delegate friends express themselves about what they have brought with them from their branches. So I ask them to take the floor.

Edgar Dürler, St. Gallen, has a point of order: We have received an invitation in which two points are on the agenda. I would like to explain them in more detail and would like to mention that I am speaking on behalf of Neuchâtel, St. Gallen, Schaffhausen, the “New Generation” and a working group in Winterthur. — He proposes as an agenda item that the only item to be discussed today should be the transformation of the Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland into a Swiss Anthroposophical Society. I would like to briefly explain the reasons for this: We are on the threshold of founding the International Anthroposophical Society. At this founding, the individual national societies, represented by their delegates, will have to declare their accession to the International Anthroposophical Society here at Christmas. It is necessary that the Swiss Anthroposophical Society also make such a declaration of accession. The fact is that we do not have a unified Swiss Anthroposophical Society. The new international society that is to be established will create a completely different situation. I believe that the Swiss Society must be able to take up a position corresponding to the particular position of the individual national societies. I would like to emphasize that the branch at the Goetheanum, which also belongs to the Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland, represents something very special and that this branch at the Goetheanum, which also has many foreign members, occupies a very special position. Just as there is an Anthroposophical Society in the Netherlands, in England and so on, and these are members of the International Anthroposophical Society, there should also be a Swiss Anthroposophical Society, autonomous but with the same rights and the same duties. I would like to repeat the proposal: transformation of the Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland into a Swiss Anthroposophical Society.

Dr. Steiner: I would just like to note, so that the discussion is not conducted in an erroneous way, that I am not interfering with the esoteric of the discussion, but I would like to note that it would be quite natural if an International Anthroposophical Society were founded at Christmas, that it would not be identical with the Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland, but that the present Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland, as it now exists, would then have the same relationship to the international society to be founded as, for example, the English or Dutch Anthroposophical Societies. That is one thing. — So there would be no ambiguity in this respect.

Of course, it is a different matter to discuss whether the branch at the Goetheanum – this one branch at the Goetheanum – will remain a co-branch of the – call it either the “Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland” or the “Swiss Anthroposophical Society” – because by its very nature it will always include members from all countries. That would be a different matter, that would be a different question. But as I said, it would not be the case that the International Anthroposophical Society would coincide with the Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland. If the International Anthroposophical Society were founded in Switzerland, it would have two completely separate administrations and so on, and would be two completely different things. I think the actual establishment of what you mean would have to be formulated in a different way, something like: one would have to be clear about how the branch at the Goetheanum should be treated. Just imagine: if the branch at the Goetheanum is eliminated, then you will immediately notice that the Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland has exactly the same position in relation to the International Anthroposophical Society as the Dutch or any other.

Walter Knopfli (St. Gallen) would like to add briefly: We believe that precisely this should be kept separate. If there is a Swiss Society that really exists independently, and a branch at the Goetheanum, then the Swiss Anthroposophical Society can also be better represented. There should be a truly Swiss General Assembly one day. We have never really had that; there have only ever been two or three delegates here who live around Dornach, and the actual Swiss part has not been represented. What happens here in Dornach has more of an international character, is more directed towards the general human. It is necessary that the Society in Switzerland be recognized as a Swiss Anthroposophical Society. I therefore wish to see a separation of the Swiss Society and the branch at the Goetheanum.

Willy Storrer believes that the motion put forward by the representative of the St. Gallen, Mr. Knopfli, can also be justified by saying: It is important to us that an Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland or a Swiss Anthroposophical Society exists not only in theory — the name is not important to us — but that such a society exists in practice, in reality. And that to this end, a further change is made on a larger scale. We thought that today would be a good opportunity for this. We wanted to propose that a general assembly of Swiss members take place as soon as possible, perhaps in Olten or Zurich, where it is more likely that members from all over Switzerland will be able to attend in larger numbers, and then use this opportunity to discuss the affairs of the entire Swiss Society in detail – not just after a lecture, but perhaps starting in the morning and continuing with discussions throughout the afternoon, as is the practice in the Netherlands and other countries. We believe that everything must be done to ensure that a concrete Swiss Society comes into being. This is also because the reconstruction of the Goetheanum is to begin soon, and safeguards for this reconstruction should be created here in Switzerland, where the Goetheanum is to be located, and this should be done now. We must, after all, reproach ourselves for not having such safeguards in place, for not having a real society around the Goetheanum in Switzerland, but only quite unconnected branches and individual members. We would now like to make certain proposals to change this.

Dr. Steiner: I would just like to add: the things we regulate must be right inwardly. And there is no question that, for example, if the delegates agree, what you and the representative of St. Gallen understand by a Swiss Anthroposophical Society must come about. It goes without saying that this must come about if the delegates determine it. However, it must be clear that it is simply impossible in terms of the rules of procedure if we follow the path proposed by Mr. Storrer.

The Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland currently exists, and includes the branch at the Goetheanum. So if a general assembly is convened, there is no way around the branch at the Goetheanum being represented at it. In its current constitution, there is no other option than for it to be represented! So if the matter is to be decided before the Christmas delegates' meeting, it would be necessary not to convene a general assembly – because it would then also include the members of the branch at the Goetheanum – but to convene an assembly, so to speak, a gathering of the Swiss members, and for these Swiss members to then decide to found a Swiss Anthroposophical Society without the branch at the Goetheanum. That is one thing. But that would initially be tantamount to a kind of exclusion of the branch at the Goetheanum. Therefore, it would probably not be very well received. Of course, the other option would be to call a general assembly and, if the branch at the Goetheanum were to appear, to propose expelling the branch at the Goetheanum, and of course to expel it if the proposal were to be accepted. That would be the second way.

But the third, I think it is the most viable and the one that seems to me the most correct. The most opportune, it seems to me, would be if the Swiss members who believe that this should happen actually held a meeting and that the assembly, through its members or delegates or a number of delegates, would aim to achieve the following: the delegates' meeting at Christmas proposes to enable a Swiss Anthroposophical Society to consist of actual Swiss members, which means that the passage should be written that the branch at the Goetheanum should become an international branch, and thus be removed. If the Swiss members were to propose this at the Christmas assembly of delegates, I would consider that the best way forward: namely, to make the branch at the Goetheanum an international branch, if that is what it is all about. Then it is out. Then the question would be resolved – which I think is desirable for other reasons, quite apart from your proposal – by the fact that the branch at the Goetheanum is not a national but an international one. That is something that can be decided then. And then, on the basis of this decision, you would be able to found the Swiss Anthroposophical Society in whatever way you wish; the branch at the Goetheanum would no longer be involved because it would have become an international one beforehand. — Well, I would think that this would also be the friendliest way, it seems to me, simply because any other way looks as if the Swiss want to throw out those who are also members of the Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland today. And, isn't it true, that would somehow leave a sting behind.

I do not want to make this a proposal on my part – otherwise I would not remain as chair but hand it over for the time being – but I just want to throw this into the discussion for the sake of clarification, so that the discussion is not based on false premises; because the proposal has been made that a general assembly should be convened. But a general assembly can only be convened with the members. So this is a simple explanation of the necessary management that I am making.

Albert Steffen says that two points are not quite clear to him: Is it impossible for a foreigner to join?

Will, Storrer: No, that's a misunderstanding. We did not mean that the Swiss Society would then consist only of Swiss people, but that it would be set up in such a way that the Swiss character of the Society would be expressed much better than has been the case so far. And we believe we can achieve this by actually holding the Swiss meeting in a place where we can all get to better than if it is in Dornach. Of course, I could well imagine that the members of the branch at the Goetheanum would also be present. I consider the second piece of advice from Dr. Steiner to be absolutely right. And the representatives of the various branches that Mr. Knopfli mentioned would also have understood that a general assembly of all Swiss members would take place, that is, of all members affiliated with the Swiss Society, regardless of whether they are French, Germans or Swiss – and that the organization of the Society would then be newly elected at this General Assembly from the majority of the members, and specifically as an organ of the Members' Assembly, the Assembly of Delegates, and then an actual active working committee. And we do not envision this as being identical to the already existing working committee, but rather it would have to be a new working committee, provided that it is elected.

Dr. Steiner (to Mr. Knopfli): Are the remarks of Mr. Storrer in line with yours?

Walter Knopfli: Not quite. I mean, the members of the branch at the Goetheanum should have the feeling that they are something different than, say, the members of the St. Gallen branch, because we in St. Gallen have different tasks. Of course one can be a member of both places, but then one has to pay the dues twice. It is not a matter of personal mistrust, but only a legal question, that one keeps it separate. I think it is good when a society is properly there with a seat, in legal registration, so that it can act as something that exists and is recognized. And that is what we want. It will only be properly recognized if it comes from the Swiss and if the headquarters of the new Anthroposophical Society is not here in Dornach but somewhere in Switzerland, in Zurich for example. It would be a better solution and would lead to much better collaboration.

Dr. Steiner: I would just like to note: This proposal to internationalize the branch at the Goetheanum will come in any case, because it would actually be out of character if Dornach were to become an international center and not have an international branch here. I think the possibility of achieving what you want will actually be better achieved if this branch is internationalized. But that does not, of course, prevent a kind of founding meeting from being convened now, in Zurich or as far away as possible from Basel, from Dornach, if you like, which then decides on something or other in its nature. — But that is not true, you do not have to do such things in such a way that you think: just by convening a meeting in Zurich, it will then already have a Swiss character! What would you do if the people of Dornach all decided to go there? There is no difference at all! I believe that the question can only be resolved - and I have also gathered this from your discussion - if the branch at the Goetheanum is executed and

comes out of the matter. Then it will already be a Swiss matter.

Albert Steffen: But I still don't see how this society can have a Swiss character when there are so many foreigners in it. For example, all the members of the “New Generation” are in this society, and a fairly large percentage of the members are foreigners. So how is this branch Swiss then?

Walter Knopfli: We are 40 members in St. Gallen and have at least 5 foreigners. That does not matter. The delegates of the Swiss branches should express whether they might agree in principle to establish a Swiss society and in principle agree to internationalize the branch at the Goetheanum. Then, as Dr. Steiner suggested, we could convene a founding assembly of these members and decide on the founding of the Swiss Anthroposophical Society from the bosom of this founding assembly and then come here at Christmas with a proposal: that on the one hand there is the Swiss Anthroposophical Society and on the other hand the branch at the Goetheanum is an independent branch at the Goetheanum, with the same rights. And that from the outset it is made clear at a founding meeting: this is not a general assembly, but a founding meeting. Those who are at the Goetheanum will of course want to belong to this branch at the Goetheanum, I am completely convinced of that. Very few will want to pay twice.

Albert Steffen: I fear only that the branch at the Goetheanum will no longer be supported by the Swiss and that it will have a harder time with the authorities than it does now.

Dr. Steiner: That is a point of view that will be very much in question.

Dr. Emil Groshbeintz: As far as I understand, you want to give Swiss society a special task, a task that is different from the one represented by the Goetheanum branch, for example. Isn't it clear that nationality cannot play a role on Swiss soil, but different countries can set themselves different tasks? And for Switzerland it is a question of opportunity, whether it should be done in such a way that there is a Swiss Society in Switzerland in general and an international branch at the Goetheanum on top of that.

Dr. Steiner: The form must then be found. And I am convinced that, for example, today's applicants would not object to the mode that the Swiss Anthroposophical Society is formed and that the branch at the Goetheanum nevertheless belongs as a branch of the Swiss Anthroposophical Society, but without voting rights and without representation at the general meetings. Then the concerns you have would be eliminated. — So it would be necessary to find a way to do it, wouldn't it? There is a difference between how the administration is within the Anthroposophical Society itself and how it is externally. To have a completely separate branch at the Goetheanum on the outside, that is, a directly international branch on Swiss soil, would not be advisable. But your request is fully met if the branch at the Goetheanum is merely a member of the Swiss Anthroposophical Society, but does not have a seat and voting rights at the general meetings of the Swiss Anthroposophical Society. Because if I understand you correctly, you are merely concerned that the Swiss character in the Swiss Anthroposophical Society should come to the fore, which you see as being endangered if the Society consists only of a few Swiss people who are outside Dornach, and then of the majority of those who are in Dornach at the time. Because those who are only temporarily in Dornach do not allow themselves to be taken, even if they are there. And that is what — if I understand you correctly — is embarrassing about the whole thing.

Willy Storrer: This would mean that the Swiss members would lose their voting rights, and there are quite a few of them.

Dr. Steiner: That is not possible at all. Willy Storrer: Since they live in Switzerland, it is probably the right thing to do.

Dr. Steiner: They can join the Swiss Anthroposophical Society if they want to have voting rights!

Dr. Lagutt: I would like to ask Mr. Knopfli if there are any regulations for the five members of other nationalities? If there are 20, for example, would you still accept the 21st? Assuming you get 21, would you still accept the 21st? Do you have any regulations about that? Or would you accept him too?

Walter Knopfli: Yes.

Dr. Lagutt: I don't understand why the Swiss branch at the Goetheanum cannot be included! If one wanted to be consistent, one would have to insist that you absolutely could not have a majority of foreigners over the Swiss in St. Gallen.

Rudolf Geering: I was pleased today that right from the start the delegates were counted and the voting rights distributed. That is progress. I believe that if this is done in future at the delegate meetings of the Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland, then all the deliberations about what has been proposed here will become unnecessary. Today we see the fruits of something that has occurred at the last few delegates' meetings in Switzerland: that actually no one knew who was actually a delegate and had a say in the voting. Proposals have been made by all kinds of people who have nothing at all to do with Switzerland and who were purely business-like. This gave the impression throughout Switzerland: When we meet in Dornach, we are not a Swiss society at all, but an international society. We are simply at their disposal. And if we continue to act as we are doing today, we can remain in the old circumstances.

Dr. Steiner: I would just like to say one thing about this. Switzerland is naturally in a somewhat different position to the Anthroposophical Society, to the world society that is now to be founded, than the other countries. And every country where the Goetheanum stands would be in the same relationship to it as Switzerland, because the Goetheanum is to become a kind of center for the world society. So of course Switzerland has a special relationship to what is now being formed as the Goetheanum. And I could imagine that there might be more will than there is now to support the Goetheanum if the Swiss Anthroposophical Society felt homogeneous – I could imagine that – if it knew where the boundary is between the Swiss Anthroposophical Society and the Goetheanum, which of course belongs just as much to the Swiss Society as it does to the Dutch Society, and so on. But they are simply protected by the fact that they are further away. And now the Friends want to erect a wall that puts Switzerland in the same position in relation to the Goetheanum as the Netherlands or England. I can well imagine the motives behind this proposal, and I think it will only be a matter of finding the right way to do it. Because members from all over the world will always meet here for shorter or longer periods of time. So it will have to be negotiated on the basis that it is desirable to simply create a proper boundary here between Swiss members and those who may only be here by chance. It's not an easy matter!

You see, if a general assembly of the Swiss Anthroposophical Society is convened in Dornach, the guests from all over the world who happen to be present will of course not be there, but there will always be a place in the branch at the Goetheanum where they can meet again – that is desirable – and where they can also meet with Swiss friends. Isn't that right? Clearer conditions can be created than they are now. And precisely what you have now criticized is, of course, something that has come about, like so much in the Anthroposophical Society unfortunately comes about: namely, much comes about simply because people do not feel bound by the practices that arise naturally for our meetings. It cannot happen anywhere else in the world that you actually do not know who belongs to a meeting. At the meeting you just mentioned, no one knew – in practice, of course – who belonged to the meeting, because everyone who was there spoke, and the whole thing was an absolutely heterogeneous mass. But everyone felt they had equal rights, everyone voted and so on. After all, no one knew who was entitled to vote, what a majority was, and so on. Today it was only abandoned because yesterday I proposed that it be done so that people know who is actually in the assembly.^{2Apparently there was a preliminary discussion on December 7, but there is no report of it.} So today it is only different on the basis of a precise understanding of the facts. But if you do not do something that clarifies the situation, who can guarantee that you will not have meetings like the last ones again in the future?

Walter Knopfli believes that when something happens here at the Goetheanum, a course or a lecture event, then every member has access, whether they are from Holland or Switzerland; there is no difference. But when it comes to other questions, such as contributions and so on, business to be done, then it is done separately in Holland, and Switzerland also has to do it for itself. Many more people will settle here, and he takes it for granted that the branch at the Goetheanum must take on a different position because mainly foreigners are here. If this branch becomes independent and international, then cooperation can still take place.

Dr. Steiner: That is quite right. It will then also turn out that this Swiss Society will preferably have Swiss representatives on its board, or at least representatives of the Swiss branches. So an office will emerge that has the character you want, whereas, if I'm not mistaken, the matter has now been taken over by an office that consisted largely of non-Swiss, except for Mr. Steffen.

Albert Steffen: The board members of the branches were always the same.

Dr. Steiner: I mean the office that convened the meeting. Of course, Mr. Steffen is signed here. But the conveners, apart from Mr. Steffen, are they all Swiss?

Albert Steffen: Not all of them, but Mr. Storrer, Mr. Stokar and Dr. Grosheintz.

Dr. Steiner: Do you now wish to make a specific proposal that can then be voted on?

Walter Knopfli: I would first like to propose a vote on whether, in principle, a Swiss Anthroposophical Society should be considered in this way and should be established in the future, and whether the branch at the Goetheanum should become international in this sense.

Dr. Steiner: The proposal has been made. — I now just have to ask: Does anyone wish to propose a differently formulated proposal on the same subject?

Rudolf Geering: I would just like to request, in the interest of the Goetheanum itself, that, after all, the branch at the Goetheanum belongs to the Swiss Anthroposophical Society in relation to the outside world. I believe that this is necessary for the sake of the branch's security, for the sake of the reputation it is to enjoy in Switzerland.

Dr. Steiner: That's right, we can find a way to do this, since what you actually want does not exclude the proposal. We can find a way to do this. And it will be easy to find: the Goetheanum branch belongs to the Swiss Anthroposophical Society without having a seat and vote there. Now Mr. Knopfli has proposed a motion to vote on whether to continue negotiations in principle on a demarcation between those present here and members who are permanently present but represent Switzerland to a lesser extent. I would now vote on this motion if a specially modified motion were not submitted.

Albert Steffen: We are all here quite unprepared, so that the matter should be thought through a little better and this motion should not be submitted until Christmas. I do not yet see the pros and cons clearly, I do not yet understand them completely.

Miss Emma Ramser would like to join Mr. Steffen because she believes that for most people this proposal comes as a bit of a surprise, so that they need time to think about it.

Dr. Steiner: I think that is not excluded, because the motion is to be put as to whether this question of founding a Swiss Anthroposophical Society should be approached or whether it should be negotiated. I think it does not exclude that. — Nor does it exclude yours! The proposal is not being made now to do this or that, but only to approach the question of whether a proposal to that effect should be made at the delegates' meeting. - If someone would like to make a modified proposal to that, I would ask them to do so.

Dr. Lagutt would like to propose that we only establish a Swiss Society and leave it to the branch at the Goetheanum to decide whether it wants to join the branch or not. So not that we decide to exclude a branch, but leave it to the branch. Because depending on how it corresponds to the statutes, this will become possible or impossible.

Dr. Steiner: That is not possible, even according to the rules of procedure, because the Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland exists. So you can't establish it, you can only change the name. Whether it is called the “Swiss Society” or the “Society in Switzerland” is a mere name change. Something must therefore be done in the direction that the branch at the Goetheanum does not participate in the negotiations of the Society, which is supposed to represent what is meant here. — One must feel this more, it is not so precisely defined — I cannot say how it should be named. But otherwise it would only be a matter of a name change.

Dr. Lagutt: I believe that it will basically only be a name change.

Dr. Steiner: But if it is only a name change, it is immediately somewhat different. If a Swiss Anthroposophical Society is established that has the branch at the Goetheanum as a co-branch, but this branch in the Swiss Anthroposophical Society does not have a seat and vote, whereas the Swiss Anthroposophical Society is represented in the international society just like any other national society, I think that would be a very clear fact! And then the only question would be whether this would be opportune in terms of external representation. Because I could well imagine that this, just as it might complicate dealings with the authorities on the one hand, could also facilitate them on the other. So if we say to the authorities: We have a Swiss Anthroposophical Society — and those who are not Swiss, who are international, we want to avoid the word international altogether — do not have a seat and vote in the Swiss Society. That could also make a favorable impression, could it not? Isn't it true that things are always more to be weighed than to be discussed? Don't you agree, Dr. Lagutt?

Dr. Jan Lagutt is somewhat reluctant to the idea that one should exclude a branch. That should be left to that branch.

Rudolf Hahn believes that if a Swiss national association is formed without the association at the Goetheanum, then the association at the Goetheanum will carry more weight with the Swiss authorities, otherwise the authorities will regard the association at the Goetheanum directly as a foreign organization. And then our opponents will have a very strong weapon, namely to say: “These foreign Fötzel should get out!” — These expressions are already heard a lot in our country. — If, on the other hand, the association at the Goetheanum remains in the national society, then the latter may have a somewhat more difficult position vis-à-vis the authorities, but at the same time it protects the branch at the Goetheanum. I believe it needs this protection! I believe that this is worth more than if the Society in Switzerland were to face its authority without a branch at the Goetheanum. Therefore, I believe that the branch at the Goetheanum should remain inside, so that it has the support it needs from Swiss society.

Dr. Steiner: But would that not also be the case if this branch at the Goetheanum - it will not be an association, only a branch - had no seat or vote in the Swiss Anthroposophical Society? Rudolf Hahn: That would of course be correct.

Dr. Steiner: Yes, the way the gentlemen here see it, they would have to agree if this branch at the Goetheanum were a “co-branch” and only had no seat or vote in the Swiss Society.

Rudolf Hahn has not yet heard that this has been discussed. Dr. Steiner asks: Have you not done that?

Albert Steffen: It is perhaps possible that Swiss people, precisely because they are anthroposophists, no longer feel so nationally. And is it not perhaps conceivable that such Swiss people would want to join the branch at the Goetheanum in the event of such a separation? That is quite conceivable, namely — - so that this branch would grow very much. And then, under certain circumstances, the Swiss Society as such could also

be damaged and might lose a certain spiritual weight.

A gentleman proposes that Mr. Knopfli's proposal not be considered. If this proposal is not necessary, then it is a matter for the assembly itself, and then a general assembly of the Swiss should be convened, and the matter should be discussed and voted on in this general assembly of the Swiss. The proposer believes that Mr. Knopfli's view is certainly not shared by all anthroposophists, but only by some of them. He believes that Mr. Steffen tends to think much too internationally rather than having a character that is too strongly chauvinistic.

Dr. Steiner: If I understand this correctly, is this a motion to move on to the agenda? Does anyone wish to speak about this?

Willy Storrer: I would like to speak again and emphasize that he finds Dr. Steiner's advice Steiner as the real solution, and this is also the opinion of his friends: that the branch is internationalized in fact, but formally belongs to the Swiss Society; but then the members of the branch at the Goetheanum have no voting rights in the Swiss Anthroposophical Society, but Swiss members of that branch should then have the option of becoming members of another branch with a more Swiss orientation. And because many do not have the option of paying contributions twice, they should be allowed to be members of the other branch without paying contributions. But what matters is: We regard the present form and organs of the Society as provisional, and our proposal is that a general assembly of Swiss members should take place somewhere, in Olten or Zurich, and that the organs of a Swiss Society be elected there – that is, the delegates and the actual leadership of the Swiss Society, a kind of working committee – so that a strong Swiss Society will exist in public view as the Goetheanum is being rebuilt, and that it will have the possibility, through its organs, through its active leadership, to confront all the obstacles and opposition that exist in Switzerland with strength. We believe that this is not as possible with the previous forms as it would be in the future if the proposals and motions we are about to put forward are implemented.

Dr. Steiner: As far as I know, no one else has come forward? — We now first have to discuss the motion to move on to the agenda. Does anyone wish to speak on this motion?

Walter Knopfli would like the motion of principle questions to be voted on first: whether the question of principle should be approached.

Dr. Steiner: If a motion is made to move on to the agenda, then it must be dealt with first and voted on. There is no other way. Of course, if the transition to the agenda is accepted, it would mean that things would simply be pursued in a different way. There is no other way. But of course the motion to move on to the agenda can be discussed.

Willy Storrer proposes that we vote on this motion to move on to the agenda.

Dr. Steiner: That goes without saying! But if no one else wishes to speak, then I ask those delegates who are in favor of moving on to the agenda to represent the two votes, to raise both hands. Those who only have one vote, raise one hand. - (It happens.) 13 votes in favor of moving on to the agenda. A simple majority would be 12 votes. The request is accepted, so nothing can be done. The next point would be ——

Albert Steffen: Yes, there is something that is closely related to this question. We had intended to bring a resolution or to propose to the delegates, which reads something like this:

"On the day of the inaugural meeting of the International Anthroposophical Society in Dornach, the Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland would like to express its gratitude and enthusiasm that the Goetheanum, which serves the cultural life of all humanity, may once again be built in Switzerland. It sees this as a good fortune and a great honor for its country. She wishes to express her determination to do everything possible to transmit from here to the whole world the inexhaustible wealth of spiritual impulses that Rudolf Steiner's work brings to the world. She is pleased to be able to work together with the other national societies to help ensure that this pure and healing source is accessible to all who seek it. The Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland.

Dr. Steiner: Since my name appears in this motion and Mr. Steffen is the proponent, I will ask Dr. Grosheintz to take the chair.

Dr. Emil Grosheintz: Does anyone wish to speak on this motion? Rudolf Geering thinks that this resolution should be accepted without further ado.

Dr. Emil Grosheintz: It has been proposed that this resolution be adopted.

Willy Stokar: Excuse me, but I would like to ask you to state the purpose of the resolution again.

Albert Steffen: The purpose of the resolution is precisely that our Society in Switzerland has an easier time dealing with the authorities if, for example, our Society shows that it has a certain standing in Switzerland and that we stand up for it, so that it is recognized that we mean something as an Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland.

Dr. Emil Grosheintz: Is it intended to be published? Albert Steffen: Yes.

Willy Stokar: In that case, if it is to be done, I would at least like to wish, from my own feelings, that it should only happen when the whole founding story is behind us, when we can present ourselves as a society that is really capable of emphatically representing something like this as a resolution, and that it should only happen after Christmas, when we are over the hill.

Albert Steffen: I have actually considered this too, since I started like this: “In the days when the founding meeting of the Anthroposophical Society took place in Dornach...” So I don't think it will be published now, but around Christmas.

Dr. Elisabeth Vreede: I would like to say that the Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland still exists! A decision may be taken to transform it into something else, but for the time being it still exists and could adopt the resolution. And it can then perhaps proclaim this once more in its last days or hours. The new society can adopt and proclaim the resolution again. But the Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland still exists! I think it is a resolution that could find a little more approval and enthusiasm.

Dr. Emil Grosheintz: So it is a matter of whether you want to agree to this resolution or reject it. Those in favor, please raise your hand. — It is the vast majority.

Dr. Steiner: Now, the next item on the agenda, which would be the point listed in our report in the July session of the ^{3rd International Delegates' Assembly of the Anthroposophical Society in Dornach from July 20-23, 1923, see page 557.}.

Albert Steffen: It would be particularly important, Doctor, that the delegates now tell us who will speak at the relevant morning discussions on the areas related to anthroposophy, and who will report on the school or on medical achievements and so on, as it is stated here in the program.

Dr. Wachsmuth: May I say a few words about this? It says something like this: We will now appoint a person who will report, let's say, on education, medicine, literature and so on. First, let's say what has been reported in the Netherlands or England or somewhere else in the field of education, school studies or the preparation that has now been made in England in the field of schools. Secondly, what is planned for the future in the subject. And thirdly, what is expected from the international society for help. Another speaks more about the medical, founding of the clinic in Holland or report on this work in England. Another more about the literary work.

It would be conceivable that on the days set aside for discussion, one speaker at a time, also in Switzerland, would report on what has been achieved so far and what can be expected in the future, so that a picture of the international work can emerge.

Dr. Steiner: Does anyone else wish to speak on this? Then it could only be a matter of whether someone from the assembly of delegates has something to announce for these topics, whether they have something to report.

Willy Storrer would like to register a short presentation about the work on the weekly journal “Das Goetheanum” for the assembly of delegates.

Dr. Steiner: Does anyone else wish to register a topic? It seems not. Then we come to the next item on the agenda: the 12 points listed in our report on the July conference. Does anyone wish to say anything about them? Does anyone have a specific suggestion regarding them? (To Mr. Steffen:) Would you like to make a suggestion regarding them?

Albert Steffen: I expect these from the ranks of the delegates.

Dr. Steiner: Does anyone wish these 12 points to be read out? ^{4See page 571 ff.}

Willy Storrer would like to suggest that perhaps Mr. Steffen could indicate a few of these 12 points that should be discussed, because it is only a few points that can be discussed here.

Dr. Wachsmuth: Item 8 is the following: It has been discussed in the Netherlands: statement of the Secretary General. - Then there are some things regarding the admission of new members; an extremely important point. You know that it was proposed that the members, i.e. new members, be admitted by the Secretary General of the country and that then these membership cards be countersigned by the international chairman or the official. This was proposed in Holland at the time, also in England, and will be proposed here at Christmas, purely formally. Now it will be necessary' to ask whether this is also to be the practice in Switzerland or whether it is to be left to the meeting.

The tenth point: fending off opponents.

The eleventh point: collaboration of members in all countries in supporting the initiatives launched by the Anthroposophical Society.

The twelfth point is the rebuilding of the Goetheanum and whatever can be done for it.

Dr. Steiner: Does anyone wish to address any other points?

Albert Steffen: A manuscript has arrived here regarding a proposal for regulating the financial capacity of the Society. I don't know whether it should be read out; it is from Mr. Hahn. Would you like to read it yourself, Mr. Hahn?

Rudolf Hahn reads out the proposal. He recalls that Dr. Steiner once mentioned that not the tax on income but the tax on expenditure would be the right thing to do to bring in money. He proposes that the members pay a tax on expenditure.

Dr. Steiner: I would just like to note that the sentence that was in it, in which I spoke of “taxation of expenditure”, did not refer to taxation on the part of anthroposophical members of the Society. — It could very easily give rise to the opinion that I had somehow spoken of such taxation before, but that is not the case at all. I have only said that when public taxes, state taxes, are levied, a calculation cannot, in all fairness, be made according to income, but according to expenditure. I say this so that the opinion does not arise that I had something to do with the request or had said this before.

Rudolf Hahn says that he proposed it entirely on his own initiative.

Dr. Steiner: Does anyone else wish to speak about points 8, 10, 11, 12, or about Mr. Hahn's proposal?

Mrs. Weiss (Zurich) cannot, however, represent the branch's view, but only speak personally, because the branch was not yet aware of the proposal. But she would just like to say that she personally does not like this proposal from Mr. Hahn at all. It would look very much like coercion if taxation were to be introduced as it is otherwise in churches, as a poor tax, as a school tax. She would really not welcome such taxation based on income and wealth for the Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland. This should be left to the freedom of the individual.

Dr. Steiner: Does anyone else wish to speak? — Are you putting this forward as a proposal, Mr. Hahn?

Rudolf Hahn proposes to see to it that money is raised in some way in order to increase the financial capacity of the Society. He sees this as a possibility for improvement. And we need to have money; we can't survive on our current income. Perhaps someone has another idea? — He doesn't see why we have to talk about taxation. We contribute 24 francs, which is not enough. But we have a large number of members who can't contribute any more. It has been suggested that voluntary contributions should be made, but nothing comes of that.

Walter Knopfli cannot agree with this proposal either. He believes that one must distinguish between membership fees of an association and donations made available to the institution. Contributions are necessary for management, administration and so on. What one gives for the Goetheanum or for the school is something else, that is, donation money. And here the freedom of the individual should be preserved.

Dr. Steiner: Does anyone else wish to speak?

Walter Knopfli: The contribution of 10 francs should actually suffice. It will then be up to the international society to decide how much the members of the foreign societies contribute to the central office of the international society. I believe that these contributions will then make it possible to manage the business.

Dr. Steiner: So you think that the Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland should propose that the international society determine what the individual national societies should contribute? Of course, there is also the difference between having a fixed amount delivered or a certain percentage of the membership fee of the respective national societies. I don't think it would be possible to introduce such a measure in the Anthroposophical Society. I believe that the antipathy to a taxation system, quite apart from how it is to be carried out in practice, would be extremely great. But that is not true. A society like the Anthroposophical Society in its present form should really be based on the freedom of its members with regard to membership fees and payments in general. It cannot be said that setting a fixed membership fee goes against the principle of freedom, because those who do not want to pay do not join in the first place, or they leave if they are already members. It is up to each person to pay the membership fee if it is not too high for them. But if you introduce a paragraph, a tax, I believe that would make us appear in a very strange light. And finally, I must say: the things that are mentioned here in point 11 will hardly flourish if that is the only way they are solved. The individual branches can of course dispose of their membership fees or decide from the bosom of their members what they like. But for all these special movements such as Waldorf schools, medicine and so on, it will always be necessary that special contributions be made, which will be made by those who can afford them. One can really only appeal to goodwill here. To exert any kind of compulsion there – which would only be possible with some members who are already inside the society – such a measure in the statutes would, of course, erect a fortress wall around the society, and no one, or very few people, would join. It's a bit strange, but I would still like to say: after all, you can't base the payment of contributions on making people look into their wallets.

Rudolf Hahn says that this was not meant. If you say that it is desirable to give 1 or 1% of your income, it is entirely left to the freedom or conscience of the individual. We have to have the money anyway!

There will be further negotiations.

Dr. Steiner: What is the difference in terms of merit between what you are talking about here and what the association actually charges? If, for example, the membership fee is set at a certain amount and people who cannot afford it are exempt, but people are free to pay a higher membership fee? We have a paragraph that says: ...can pay more! What is the difference?

Rudolf Hahn: The suggestion that perhaps more should be paid. It is just possible that no one pays 100 or 200 francs; but there are members who could afford that. On the other hand, there are members who could be forgiven a waiver of the contribution.

Dr. Jakob Hugentobler: Mr. Hahn has actually only mentioned a single example where the contributions are insufficient. He spoke of the library. It is his opinion that the contribution should not be used to finance the other purposes of the Society, but that the 24 francs should be sufficient for the actual business. Mr. Hahn should try to work in his branch in Basel in such a way that he receives his contributions for these special purposes from case to case. He will certainly succeed, as in other branches.

Rudolf Hahn says that in Basel you can have bad experiences with this.

Dr. Steiner: But this is not even a suggestion. One must, I would say, bring a moral impulse into it. I do not mean that it is immoral, but I do mean that one must think of more moral impulses than that. For you see, it is not possible for anyone to be asked to calculate something like a membership fee for the Anthroposophical Society according to their income or even according to their livelihood! Because it does come into consideration how much he is able to make deductions from a real income. Just imagine: if someone has an income of 1,000 marks a month and he is a single bachelor, and another has just as much and has ten children: how can one think of proceeding there?

Rudolf Hahn: Perhaps through a special commission?

Dr. Steiner: I think that would be the most dangerous thing. Apart from the fact that I already feel that the tax commission is sufficiently dangerous – do we then need another tax commission in the Anthroposophical Society? I cannot imagine that this would give us any special prestige.

Ms. Weiß asks whether the question was not completely settled at the last meeting, so that the office is submitting the proposals.

Dr. Wachsmuth says that he would like to mention that the proposal does not come from the office.

Rudolf Hahn: Dr. Blümel said that not 10, but 20 percent was needed. I, for one, already know what I have to do with the money.

Dr. Steiner: I am even convinced that you will not use it for yourself, but for society. But I don't know – it's really not appropriate to have a paragraph or a statute or something like that worded that way. Because it would actually have a deterrent effect on those people who want to become members first.

Question: Can't Dr. Steiner put this motion to the vote on a trial basis?

Dr. Steiner: But that would only mean that it is the motion to end the debate. The motion has been put. — Please raise your hand! Please raise your hand! It is adopted. — Then the motion is put to the vote. I therefore put Mr. Hahn's motion to the vote and ask those in favor to raise their hands. — It is unanimously rejected — by one vote, I think. |

Isn't it the case – I'm really not being pedantic, but I would like to point this out – that it is best to follow these small nuances during the proceedings: There will be an immediate vote if someone proposes to end the debate. So those things that have already been properly introduced into parliamentary life contribute greatly to the meeting running in a proper manner. Does anyone have anything to add to any of these points? I think that the esteemed delegate friends will be a little unprepared to speak about these 12 points right now, because they probably haven't thought about them yet. It is probably in the invitation, but these things can only be fruitfully discussed at the Christmas meeting of delegates. If anyone has any further suggestions, I would ask them to do so.

One gentleman is not clear about why the admission of a new member should be countersigned by the international secretariat regarding point 8. What value should this have?

Dr. Steiner: This does have a certain value. I must say, however, that it is not made clear enough in point 8. But this point will, of course, be discussed at the Christmas meeting of delegates. It does have a certain value. It would be significant if all membership cards issued for the Anthroposophical Society had a uniform signature. As I said, it would have a value. And won't the responsibilities arise from the way in which the office of the international society is organized at Christmas? I cannot imagine that this responsibility arises in any other way than by the responsible officials here in Dornach having the necessary trust for the international society in the officials present in the individual countries: For example, where general secretaries have been appointed, as in Norway, England and the Netherlands. Of course, the person who is responsible for the Society here must have confidence in the respective general secretaries there. Only in this way can there be mutual responsibility. This was also recently established at the meeting of delegates of the Dutch Society, where it was stated: The founding assembly elects a general secretary. He has been elected. And now, isn't it true, of course, that this is subject to the proviso that the official in question, who will be at the head of the international society, gives his consent afterwards and that, if there is a change in the society - the Dutch society has decided this - then the question is put to Dornach as to whether they agree with it. Of course, that would not prevent the board of the respective national society from feeling completely autonomous. But those officials of the national society who mediate the contact with Dornach must somehow be designated or elected in agreement with Dornach, must they not? Otherwise we would not have the international society if something like that were not established.

Walter Knopfli would like to hear more about the first point of these 12 provisions, which has not yet been discussed at all. He says: We are here now as delegates of the Swiss Society and should be able to summarize what the Swiss Society is representing at this international conference. But if we now close the assembly of delegates and I have to report to my branch on what has just happened, I would have nothing to report. There has been some discussion, but a request has been made for the debate to be closed. It is precisely this point 1 that was declared necessary to discuss at the beginning of the agenda.

Dr. Steiner: It has been proposed that item 1 be discussed. Does anyone wish to speak in favor of this?

Willy Storrer: We would like to repeat our proposal regarding this point: the previous form of the Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland should be regarded as provisional, and perhaps a founding, a primal assembly of Swiss members should be held next Saturday or Sunday in Zurich or Olten, at which the organization of the Society should be decided and those should be elected who are then to be represented at the Assembly of Delegates.

Dr. Steiner: Does anyone wish to speak on this?

Edgar Dürler would just like to strongly support Mr. Storrer's request and hope that it will not be destroyed again with buzzwords like “chauvinism”.

Miss Emma Ramser would like to request that this be postponed until after Christmas. She also thinks it necessary to discuss this thoroughly. There seems to be a lot of opposition to the current company. The reasons for the formation of a new Swiss company will then become clear. But in any case, the time before Christmas is too short to organize everything.

Miss...? says that if every delegate here reports back home, then at Christmas the delegates can also report on how the branch views this question.

Mrs. Weiss also thinks that this meeting should take place before Christmas so that everyone will know how to join the international society.

Albert Steffen: I don't see any reason why the Swiss members shouldn't gather. They should really gather.

Willy Storrer: I also don't see why this shouldn't be done. After all, the delegates and members of the surrounding area have also been invited to attend the meeting in order to carry out all the preparations for the delegates' meeting, and this invitation has been issued for a time that does not actually allow for such a discussion, namely at 10 o'clock at night. If it was thought that the matter could be dealt with in this relatively short period of time, a whole week should be allowed for the members to express their views. He thinks there is enough time, especially if a Saturday or Sunday is chosen as the meeting date.

Dr. Steiner: Yes, but who should call the meeting? The matter is this: at present the Anthroposophical Society exists in Switzerland. It is represented today by its delegates. So far we have counted on them when it was a matter of bringing together the individual national societies. So formally everything would be in order for the Christmas Conference, and the suggestion that Mr. Knopfli first made can certainly be made at the Christmas Conference. So there are only two possibilities: either the same body could convene another meeting like the one today, or, for all I care, a meeting of Swiss members, or else a general meeting would have to be convened. And that can only be done if someone calls it.

Willy Storrer believes that this question could be resolved by saying: the previous delegates of the Swiss branches go home and call a general meeting and inform this general meeting that the previous delegates have decided to hold a meeting in Zurich for the individual members, who will then join. The secretariat could take care of this.

Dr. Steiner: That is not possible, of course, from a formal point of view. The delegates who are here now are delegates of the Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland. They cannot decide to convene a general assembly. They can only decide to convene a meeting of those who are now members of the Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland. A general assembly can only be convened by someone who does so, well, from the original state. An original assembly can only be convened by someone taking responsibility – alone or with a number of comrades whom they elect themselves with – to issue a call to all those members whom they want and with whom they intend to hold an original assembly; and this assembly can then bring a proposal to the delegates' assembly at Christmas. But the Society's Assembly of Delegates cannot in any way propose the convening of a general assembly, because there is no such thing as a “general assembly” of an existing society.

Willy Storrer: In this case, we, that is, the representatives of the St. Gallen, Neuchâtel, Schaffhausen and “New Generation” branches who are present here, would convene this original assembly.

Dr. Steiner: Then you can convene it from these branches, but you must also create an independent office out of yourselves, out of your idea. But an “original assembly” cannot be convened from something that already exists. It can be decided to convene a second assembly, somewhere for my sake, but not an original assembly.

Walter Knopfli: A decision should not be made here, but the procedure should be followed in such a way that the branches agree among themselves on who wants to take charge of the matter. Then the person concerned, outside the Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland, outside the Assembly of Delegates, will issue this invitation and then convene it outside, in a completely neutral way, based entirely on the original state. Those who wish to do so can no doubt agree among themselves on who will do this. In the meantime, the delegates who are here can be asked to invite their members at home to take a preliminary position on the matter.

Dr. Steiner: That can certainly be done, but no resolution can be passed on it. Don't you see that? It is not possible to pass a resolution on it!

Walter Knopfli: Yes, that is a point that is very important to me regarding point 1: reporting on the national associations. There is a certain mood in favor of it.

Dr. Steiner: Yes, but is it really the case that so little is known about this intention to found an international society here? Is it really the case that so little is known about it?

Walter Knopfli: The intended founding of the international society is of course known to all members, but the question is how we as the Swiss society relate to it. The question is –

Dr. Emil Grosheintz (interrupts): But you are now opposing the Swiss Society! What you are asking for here is quite impossible. We are the delegates of the Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland. Now you do not like this Society and you are saying: We want to strangle ourselves by convening another assembly or by doing something else with the Society. It is simply that the present form of the Society does not suit you! Do you want us ourselves to strangle ourselves, as I can't say it any other way, to decide to form a primary assembly and start again immediately? And then it is impossible to understand how Mr. Storrer can say that this Society, as it now exists, is a provisional arrangement. It is not a provisional arrangement, it exists! And I believe that if something else is to happen in society, if it is to modify itself in such a way that the Swiss members join together more closely, then the group here, because it has an international character, this character of internationality, as it naturally exists in Dornach, this character is best expressed when an international branch is formed at the Goetheanum. If it can be done in the way Dr. Steiner has suggested, that is the very best and most natural way. I don't know why you are now pushing and insisting on bringing about this revolution before Christmas.

Dr. Steiner: But earlier it was quite possible to discuss the matter! Everything was absolutely clear, and in fact there was no reason to come back to the proposal again. It even seems — since it is being revisited — that ulterior motives are still at play that one does not want to express. Because now we are at a point where it is actually no longer possible to understand what is wanted. For example, I don't understand what Mr. Storrer wants.

Willy Storrer: All we want is for a members' meeting to take place.

Dr. Steiner: But a members' meeting can only be decided here by the Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland.

Willy Storrer: That is what we want, Doctor! It is immaterial to us whether the meeting is an ordinary or an extraordinary one. The branch at the Goetheanum is represented here by Dr. Grosheintz and someone else. For example, I have not heard that it has been carried out that these representatives of their members are now taking a stand.

Dr. Steiner: You can of course decide here that a general meeting of the Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland should be convened.

Martha Schelling says that she believes that only a few members will be able to respond to the call, because they cannot come twice in the short time available.

Dr. Steiner: We really ought to speak objectively on this question. Now that we have already elected the chairmen of the meeting, I would like to point out that it would be really necessary to give reasons for things when discussing such matters. Simply saying that we want this and that is not really a statement of reasons. I believe that now – today is December 8, and the delegates' meeting begins on the 24th – that calling a members' meeting in Switzerland in some place is such a drastic measure, something so incisive, that one should of course consider it very carefully. And above all, I believe that one should not proceed carelessly in such a matter. Because it is quite absolutely this to consider that every choice of a place that you make today can be made in such a way that a group can outvote the whole of Switzerland and the whole Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland. You simply choose the place accordingly. You know, in some place nearby, there are members who want something specific. They want to create a majority for themselves, and to do that they choose a location. They know: if we choose St. Gallen, we have the majority there; if we choose Olten, we have the majority there, and so on. These things are of such importance that they must be considered in the face of the other point, which should actually be brought forward. Is there really such widespread dissatisfaction with the Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland that an extraordinary general meeting should be convened at such short notice? Is this dissatisfaction really so great? Or can what Mr. Knopfli has put forward, which I very much understood, simply be introduced in the form of a proposal put forward by those members who consider it necessary? — It can very well be put forward in the form of a proposal by individual members, then you have a very clean thing. Then there is a motion, which, for my part, is supported by 30 or however many members. There is a proper motion, and you do not now call a meeting with some ulterior motive through the will of an unequal majority, the will of individual members, that is, a vanishing minority! You have to take all that into account! Of course I have no right to interfere in this matter in any way. But I think it is absolutely dangerous if, after nothing has been said about the matter so far, after a long period of satisfaction with the Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland, a meeting is now to be convened from December 8 to December 24 with no explanation. At the very least, they should explain why they need a general meeting. Because they don't need a general meeting to make the request that Mr. Knopfli has made. I am completely convinced that - Walter Knopfli says he can agree to this. He thinks that individual representatives will also take a stand at Christmas - the delegate of the branch at the Goetheanum has taken a stand. If the decision is then made to establish the new Anthroposophical Society, as assumed, and to join the international Society, then the existing Society in Switzerland will formally give its consent, and only after that should the change take place.

Dr. Steiner: You see, something will be done about this at Christmas. A certain internationalization of the branch at the Goetheanum would take place, and in my opinion, conditions will then be created with which you can be satisfied. I do believe that in general – whether you change the name or not, that is really a secondary question – I do believe that you can have what you want, if there is no ulterior motive! What you say you want can certainly be achieved with the resolutions that deal with the right things.

Miss Emma Ramser: The gentlemen have stated that if their proposal is accepted, they will make specific proposals. If the proposal is accepted in such a way that the separation is addressed, they would like to make specific proposals.

Dr. Steiner: But you can't address the separation! That's quite impossible.

Miss Emma Ramser: Could the gentlemen not perhaps communicate what they have to say to the branches point by point over the next week, so that it can be discussed, so that the delegates are not, so to speak, faced with a fait accompli again, I don't want to say taken by surprise. But if the number of members cannot come at Christmas... so that we know what is to be discussed...

Dr. Steiner: It would have been quite good if the opinion had been expressed that, apart from what has been said, there are still some deficiencies in the Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland, it could have been brought up today!

Walter Knopfli: It was not meant as a vote of no confidence, I only said what had been said. And the specific proposals were to consider something like a primeval assembly and how society has to be reconstituted, how to do that to avoid misunderstandings. There are no hidden agendas

. Willy Storrer requests the floor.

Dr. Steiner: What you have proposed can indeed be arranged in the simplest way, also with regard to point 1. It is true that I have read this abbreviated report of the International Assembly of Delegates in Dornach with this appendix on the founding of the International Anthroposophical Society in Dornach [see $. 557]; but I must say: these 12 points look terrible, of course! And if we continue to debate this in the same way as now, we will not be finished by tomorrow morning. We will have to discuss the merger of the individual national societies that have already been founded. This first point can be dealt with in five minutes at the delegates' meeting. It just doesn't look like that, because there are four lines here; but all that is needed is to express the will to found this international society. And the reports on the various forms taken by the societies in different countries will not take up much time either. If there is the will to found this International Anthroposophical Society, then I believe we should not talk much about the formalities at all, but should find the transition to talking about a number of really important things in the anthroposophical field, which should then be discussed. I do not think it would be good to talk at length about these questions at all during this meeting at Christmas, questions which have been bandied about so much this evening and about which one usually does not know what is actually wanted. Isn't that right? According to the rules of procedure, I didn't even have to allow the motion to be discussed again. It was a concession that I allowed it to be discussed again, but then the reasons should have been presented.

Willy Storrer: Yes, Doctor, we have presented these reasons! Because we believe that it is necessary for the Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland to re-establish itself, that it must do so, and we wanted to make proposals in this direction. We wanted this general meeting to express its opinion on this.

Dr. Emil Grosheintz: Mr. Storrer! We are now at a meeting of delegates of the Anthroposophical Society in Switzerland. If you make the request that this society should reconstitute itself - do not say “must”, it must re-establish itself - but then say the reasons why you believe that this should happen and what its shortcomings and damages are, other than those that have already been mentioned.

Willy Storrer says that Mr. Knopfli, Mr. Stokar and he agree that it would be better for the effect on the outside world if the leadership of the Swiss Anthroposophical Society consisted more of Swiss members, if there were another working committee instead of the working committee, which could still exist quite well at the Goetheanum, perhaps even composed of the individual branches in Switzerland.

Dr. Steiner: Please, then nominate other people at the next meeting where there is an election. That is not an item for discussion. You can't just make a request at any old time!

Willy Stokar: I request that the debate be closed.

Dr. Steiner: The motion to end the debate has been made. I ask those delegates who are in favor to raise their hands. - I now ask those who are against it to raise their hands. — The motion to end the debate has therefore been adopted.

Is there anything else? That does not appear to be the case. Then we come to the end. I thank the honored friends for attending this meeting of delegates. I hope that, despite the fact that we have spoken a little “opaque” about many things, that nevertheless what we have spoken about will bear good fruit at the very important meeting of delegates at Christmas.

In our last lecture we showed the period of Art which finally merged into that of the great masters of the Renaissance. We ended by revealing the connecting threads in the artistic world of feeling, which finally led up to what was so wondrously united in Leonardo, in Michangelo and in Raphael. Yet at the same time, in these three masters we must also see the starting point of the new age, in an artistic sense. It is the dawn of the 5th post-Atlantean age, which is heralded in the realm of Art. All three were living, at the beginning of the 5th post-Atlantean age. Leonardo was born in 1452, Michelangelo in 1475 and Raphael in 1483; Leonardo dies in 1519, Raphael in 1520, and Michelangelo in 1564. Here we find ourselves at the starting point of the new age. At the same time, something is contained in these artists which we must undoubtedly regard as a culmination of the spiritual stream of preceding ages, inasmuch as they poured their impulses into the realm of Art. It is true, my dear friends, that in our time people have little understanding for what is important in this respect, for in our time—I do not say this as mere criticism—art has been far too much expelled from the spiritual life as a whole. It is even considered a failing of the historian or critic, if he seeks once more to give Art its place in the spiritual life as a whole. People say that our attention is thus diverted unduly from the artistic or aesthetic impulses as such, attaching an excessive value to the content, to the subject-matter, and yet, this need not be the case at all. Indeed, it is only in our own time that this distinction has acquired so much importance. It had no such direct significance in former epochs—epochs when the artistic understanding was more developed in the ordinary common sense of the people. We must not forget how much has been done to extirpate a true artistic understanding by all the atrocities which have been placed before the human mind of men in recent times, by way of pictorial representation and the like. True understanding for the manner of representation has been lost. European humanity, in a certain sense, no longer cares how a given subject-matter is presented to it. In wide circles, artistic understanding has to a large extent been lost.

Speaking of former epochs, and especially of the epoch to which we are now referring, we may truly say artists such as Raphael, Michelango and Leonardo were by no means one-sidedly artistic, but carried in their souls the whole of the spiritual life of their time and created out of this. In saying this, I do not mean that they borrowed their subject-matter from the spiritual life of their time. I mean far more than this. Into the specifically artistic quality of their creation, in form and colouring, there flowed the specific quality of the world-conception of that time. In our time, a world-conception is a collection of ideas which can, of course, be represented in sculpture or in painting and it is frequently embodied, needless to say, in forms and colours and the like which to the true artistic sense will nevertheless be an atrocity. In this respect, unfortunately, we must repeatedly utter warnings, even within our anthroposophical stream of evolution. The feeling for what is truly artistic is not always prevalent among us. I still remember with a shudder how at the beginning of the theosophical movement in Germany a man once came to me in Berlin, bringing with him reproductions of a picture he had painted. The subject was: Buddha under the Bodhi Tree. It is true there sat a huddled figure under a tree, but the man—if you will pardon me the apt expression—understood as little of Art as an ox, having eaten grass throughout the week, understands of Sunday. He simply thought, here is the subject; let us paint it, and it will represent a work of Art. Of course, it represented something. Namely, he who imagined the scene to himself—“Buddha under the Bodhi Tree”—could see it so, no doubt. But there was absolutely no reason why such a thing should ever have been painted.

It is a very different thing when we say of Leonardo, Michelangelo and Raphael, that they bore within them the whole way of feeling which permeated the Italian civilisation of their time. For this civilisation entered livingly into the artistic quality of their work, into their whole manner of presentation; nor can we fully understand these artists if we have no feeling for the civilisation in the midst of which they lived. Today, indeed, people believe the most extraordinary things. They will believe, for instance, that a man can build a Gothic church even if he has not the remotest notion of High Mass. Of course, he cannot do so in reality. Or they believe that one can paint the Trinity even if one has no feeling for what is intended to be living in it. In this way, Art is expelled from its living connection with the spiritual life as a whole. At the same time, on the other hand, people fail to understand the artistic element as such, imagining that with aesthetic views and feelings which happen to be prevalent today they can set to work and ciriticise Raphael or Michelangelo or Leonardo, whose whole way of feeling was quite different. It was only natural (though I should need many hours to say in full what should be said on this point), it was only natural for them to be living in the whole way of feeling of their time. We cannot understand their creative work unless we understand the character which Christianity had assumed at the time when these artists blossomed forth. You need only remember that at the end of the 15th and beginning of the 16th century Italian Christianity witnessed the rise even among the Popes, of men who truly cannot be said to have satisfied even the most rudimentary demands of morality, nor need one be in any way a pietist to say so. And, of course, the whole army of priests were of like character. The idea that a specific moral impulse must be living in what goes by the name of “Christian” had been lost sight of, comparatively speaking. And when in later times it emerged again—in pietist and moralising forms, by no means identical with what I described the other day when speaking of St. Francis,—it was imbued with quite a different feeling of Christianity than inspired those who lived, for instance, under an Alexander VI, a Julius II or a Leo X. If, on the other hand, we consider the Christian traditions, the concepts and ideas (and when I say ideas I include “Imaginations”) connected with the Mystery of Golgotha, we find them still living in the souls with an intensity of which the man of today has little notion. Human souls lived in the ideas connected with the Mystery of Golgotha, as in a world that was their very own, and they saw Nature herself in the midst of this same world. We need but call to mind: In that time, even for the most educated, this Earth, of which the Western half was still unknown (or was only just begining to be known and was not fully really reckoned with),—this Earth was the centre of the whole Universe. Going down beneath the surface of the Earth, one found a subterranean kingdom; going but a little way above, a super-earthly. We might almost say, it was as though a man only need lift his arm, to grasp with his hand the feet of the heavenly beings. Heaven still penetrated down into the earthly element. Such was the conception—a harmony, an interplay of the spiritual above and the Earth beneath it, with the world of the senses which contained mankind. Even their view of Nature was in this spirit.

Those, however, among whom we find the three great masters of the Renaissance were striving forth from yonder age. And the one who harbours within him, as in a seed, all that came forth since then—nay, much that is still destined to come forth,—that one is Leonardo. The soul of Leonardo was equally inclined to the feelings of the former time and of the latter. His soul had most decidedly a Janus head. By his education, by the habits of his life, by all that he had seen, he lived with his feelings still in the olden time. Yet he had a mighty impulse to that conception of the world which only came forth in the succeeding centuries. He had an impulse, not so much towards its width as to its depth. From various indications in my other lectures, you know that the Greeks—and even the men of later times during the 4th Post-Atlantean age—knew life quite differently than we do,—that is to say, out of a different source of knowledge. The sculptor, for example, knew the human figure from within—from a perception of the forces that were at work within himself, the forces which we today describe in Anthroposophy as the etheric. Out of this inner feeling of the human figure the Greek artist created. In course of time this faculty was lost. Another faculty now had to appear: the power to take hold of things with outward vision. Man felt impelled to feel and understand external Nature. I showed you last time, how Francis of Assisi was among the first who sought to perceive Nature through a deep life of feeling. Now Leonardo was the first who endeavoured in a wider sense to add to this feeling of Nature, a conscious understanding of Nature. Because it was no longer given to him, as to the men of former ages, to trace from within outward the forces that are at work in man, he tried to know these things by contemplation from without. He tried to know by outward vision what could no longer be made known by inward feeling. An understanding of Nature as against a feeling for Nature: this is what distinguishes Leonardo da Vinci from Francis of Assisi, and this determines the whole constitution of his spirit. He was all out to understand. And though we need not take it word for word—for the sources, as a rule, relate only the current legends—nevertheless, the legends themselves were founded upon fact, and there is truth in it when we are told how Leonardo took especial pains to study characteristic faces, so that by dint of outward contemplation the working of the formative forces of the human organism might become his own inner experience. Often he would follow a character about for days and days, so that the human being might become as if transparent to him, revealing how the inner being works into the outer form. Yes, there is truth in this,—and that he invited peasants to his house and set before them tasty dishes or told them stories, so that their faces assumed every possible expression of laughter and contortion and he could study them. All this is founded upon fact. And when he had to paint a Medusa he brought all manner of toads and reptiles into his studio, to study the characteristic animal faces. These are legendary anecdotes; and yet they truly indicate how Leonardo had to seek, to discover the mysterious creation of Nature's forces. For Leonardo was truly a man who sought to understand Nature. He tried in an even wider sense to understand the forces of Nature as they play their part in human life. He was no mere artist in the narrower sense of the word; the artist in him grew out of the whole man, standing in the very midst of the turning-point of time. The church of San Giovanni in Florence had sunk a little, owing to a subsidence of the soil. He wished to raise it again—a task that could easily be carried out today; but in that time such a thing was considered absolutely hopeless. He wanted to have it raised bodily, as it stood. Nowadays, as has justly been observed, it would only be a question of the cost; in his time it was an idea of genius, for no one beside Leonardo thought such a thing was possible. He also thought of constructing machines whereby men would be able to fly through the air; and of irrigating great areas of swamp. He was an engineer, a mechanic, a musician, a cultured man in social intercourse, a scientist according to his time. He constructed apparatus so unheard-of in that age that no one else could make anything of them. What poured into his artist's hand was working, therefore, from a many-sided understanding of the world. Of Leonardo we can truly say, he bore his whole Age within him, even as it came to expression in the profound external changes which were then enacted in Italy. Leonardo's whole life—his artistic life included—bears the stamp of this his fundamental character. In spite of the fact that he grew out of the Italian environment, he was not altogether at home there. True, he was a Florentine, but he spent only his youth in Florence, and then went on to Milan, having been summoned thither by the Duke Ludovico Sforza—sommoned by no means (as we might naively imagine) as the great artist whom we recognise in him today, but as a kind of court entertainer. From the skull of a horse, Leonardo constructed an instrument of music, from which he enticed various notes, and was thus able with great humour to entertain the ducal house. We need not say that he was intended as a kind of “fool,” but as an entertainer to amuse the Court, most certainly. The works of Art which he produced in Milan, to which we shall presently refer, were certainly created out of the very deepest impulse of his own being. But he had not been summoned to the Court of the Sforza's for this purpose; and though he entered well into all the life at Milan, we find him afterwards, on his return to Florence, working at a battle-picture, intended to glorify a victory over Milan. Then we see him end his life at the French Court.

The one dominating impulse in Leonardo is to see and feel what interests the human being of his time; the political events, complicated as they were, more or less swept past him. He only skimmed off them, as it were, the uppermost and human layer. Indeed, in many respects he rather gives us the impression of an adventurer, albeit one endowed with colossal genius. He bears his whole Age within him; and out of this feeling of his Age as a whole, his creations arise. We shall present them not in chronological but in a freely chosen order, for in Leonardo the main point is to see how he creates out of a single impulse, and for this reason the chronological sequence is less important.

An altogether different nature, though possessing the characteristics of the Renaissance in common with him, was Michelangelo. If we can say of Leonardo that he bore the whole forces of his time within him (and for this very reason often came into disharmony with it and remained misunderstood, just because he understood it in its depths, in the forces that only found their way to the surface during later centuries), of Michelangelo, on the other hand, we may say: he bore within him, above all, the Florence of his time. What was the Florence of his time? It was, in a sense, a true concentration of the existing order of the world. This Florence he bore within him. Unlike Leonardo, he did not stand remote from political affairs. The complicated political events around him—and the whole world-order of that time played into these politics—entered again and again into the soul of Michelangelo. And when again and again he went to Rome, he bore his Florence with him, and painting and sculpting a Florentine element into the Roman setting. Leonardo bore a universal feeling into the works he created; Michelangelo carried a Florentine feeling into Rome. As an artist he achieved a kind of spiritual conquest over Rome, making Florence arise again in Rome.

Thus Michelangelo entered intensely into all that was taking place through the political conditions in Florence during his long life. We see this in the succession of his life-periods. As a young man, when his career was only just beginning, he witnessed the reign of the great Medici, whose favourite he was, and by whose favour he was enabled to partake in all that the Florence of that time could offer to a man's spiritual life. Whatever of ancient Art and artistry was then available, Michelangelo studied it under the protectorate of the Medici; and it was here that he produced his earliest work. Indeed, he loved his protector, and grew together in his own soul with the soul-nature of the Medici. But presently he had to realise that the sons of his patron were of quite a different kind. He who had done so much for Florence—out of an ambitious disposition, it is true, yet cultivating largesse and freedom—died in 1492; and his sons proved themselves more or less common tyrants. Michelangelo had to experience this change in comparatively early youth. Whereas at the beginning of his career the mercantile spirit of the Medici had allowed free play to Art, he must now witness this mercantile spirit itself masquerading as a political spirit, and striving towards tyranny. Yes, he witnessed on a small scale the rise in Florence of what was afterwards to take hold of all the world. It was a terrible experience for him, and yet not unconnected with the whole surrounding world of the new Age. It was now that he first went to Rome, and we may say: In Rome he mourns the loss of what he has experienced as the true greatness of Florence. We can even recognise how the plastic quality of his work is connected with this great change in his feelings: Into the very line we notice what the political changes in Florence had brought about in his soul. Any one who has a deeper feeling for such things will see in the Pieta in the Vatican a work which in the last resort is born out of the mourning soul of Michelangelo—Michelangelo mourning for the city of his fathers.

Then, when better times returned and he went back to Florence, he stood once more under a new impression. He felt uplifted in his soul,—Freedom had entered into Florence once again. He poured out this new feeling into the indescribably great figure of his David. It is not the traditional David of the Bible. It is the protest of free Florence against the encroaching principle of “great powers,” of mighty States. Its colossal character is connected with this very feeling.

Again, when he was summoned by Pope Julius to decorate the Sistine Chapel, now in a far fuller sense than before, he bore his Florence with him into Rome. What was it that he bore with him? It was a whole world-conception, of which we can say that it shows the rise of the new age, just as truly as we can say, on the other hand, that in the works of Michelangelo in the Sistine Chapel, representing the creation of the World and the great process of Biblical history, we have the twilight of an ancient world-conception. Thus Michelangelo carries with him a whole world to Rome,—carries with him something that could never have arisen at that time in Rome itself, but that could only arise in Florence: the idea of one mighty cosmic process with all the Prophetic gifts and Sibylline faculties of man. You will find further explanations on these things in earlier lectures. These inner connections could only be felt and realised in Florence. What Michelangelo experienced through all the spiritual life that had reached its height in the Florence of that time, cannot, in truth, be felt today, unless we transplant ourselves through Spiritual Science into former epochs. Hence the usual histories of Art contain so many absurdities at this point. A man can only create as Michelangelo created if he believes in these things and lives in their midst. It is easy for a man to say that he will paint the world's creation. Many a modern artist would credit himself, no doubt, with this ability,—but one who has true feeling will not be able to assent. No one can paint the evolution of the world who does not live in it, like Michelangelo, with all his being.

But when he returned once more to Florence, he was already driven, after all, by the new stream, which—to put it bluntly—replaces the sacramental by the commercial character. True, he was destined still to create the most wonderful works, in the Medici Chapel. But in the background of this undertaking was an element which could not but inspire him with melancholy feelings. The purpose was the glorification of the Medici. It was they who mattered,—who in the meantime had become powerful, albeit less in Florence than in the rest of Italy. Then once more the political changes drove him back. The betrayal of the Malatestas, their penetration into Florence, drove him back again to Rome. And now he painted, as it were, into the Last Judgment, the protest of a Florentine, the great protest of humanity, of the human individual against all that would oppose it. Hence the real human greatness of his Last Judgment, the greatness which it undoubtedly breathed forth, as it proceeded from his hand. For now, also, parts of it have been completely spoiled.

But he still had to undergo experiences which entered very, very deep into all the impulses of feeling in his soul. How many events had he not experienced, how much did they not signify for the development of his picture of the world: For the things I have indicated were of great importance to him. They may be taken abstractly today, but in the soul of Michelangelo they worked without a doubt as very deep soul-impulses. But we must add that I have mentioned the fact that he witnessed, too, the great change which came over Florence through the appearance of Savonarola. This was a protest within the life of the Church against what was characteristic of that time in Christianity. So free an Art as was developed in Leonardo and in many others like him could only unfold in this way inasmuch as the ideas of Christianity were lifted out of their context and taken by themselves. I mean the ideas connected with the Mystery of Golgotha—the conception of the Trinity, of the Last Supper, of the connection between the earthly and the spiritual realms, and so forth. All these conceptions, lifted right out of the moral element, assumed a free imaginative character which the artist dealt with at his pleasure, treating it like any worldly subject, with the only difference that it contained, of course, the sacred figures. These things had been objectified, loosed from the moral element; and thus the Christian thought, loosed from the moral element, slid over by and by into a purely artistic sphere. All this took place quite as a matter of course, and the gradual elimination of the moral element was a natural concomitant of the whole process. Savonarola represents the great protest against this elimination of the moral element. Savonarola appears; it is the protest of the moral life against an Art that was free of morals,—I do not say, void of morals, but free. Indeed, we must study Savonarola's will if we would understand in Michelangelo himself what was due to Savonarola's influence.

But this was not all. You must imagine Michelangelo as a man who in his inmost heart and mind could never think in any other than a Christian way. He not only felt as a Christian; he conceived the order of the World in mighty pictures, in the Christian sense. Imagine him placed in the midst of that time, when the Christian conceptions had, as it were, become objectified and could thus slide so easily into the realms of Art. Such was the world in which he lived. But he experienced withal the Northern protest of the Reformation, which spread with comparative speed, even to Italy; and he also witnessed the great and revolutionary change which was accomplished from the Catholic side as a counter-Reformation, against the Reformation. He experienced the Rome of his time,—a time whose moral level may not have been high, but in which there were free and independent spirits, none the less, who were decidedly agreed to give a new form to Catholicism. They did not want to go so far as Savonarola, nor did they want it to assume the form which afterwards came forth in the Reformation. They wanted to change and recreate Catholicism by continuous progress and development. Then the Reformation burst in like another edition, so to speak, of the Savonarola protest. Rome was seized with anxiety and fear, and they parted from what had pulsated through their former life. Michelangelo among others had built his hopes on such ideas as were concentrated, for example, in Vittoria Colonna, hoping to permeate with high ethical principles what had reached so great a height in Art. With a Catholicism morally recreated and renewed, they hoped to permeate the world once more. Now, however, there arose the great Roman powers, the strong Catholic ideas, the Jesuitical principle, and Paul IV became the Pope. What Michelangelo was now to witness must have been terrible for him, for he saw the seeds of an absolute break with what had still been known to him as Christianity. It was the beginning of Jesuitical Christianity. And so he entered on the twilight of his life.

Michelangelo, as I said, had carried Florence into Rome. With Raphael once again it was different. Of Raphael we may say, he carried Urbino—East-Central Italy to Rome. Here we come to that strange magic atmosphere whose presence we feel when we contemplate the minor artists of that region whence Raphael grew forth. Consider the creations of these artists—the sweet and tender faces, the characteristic postures of the feet, the attitude of the figures. We might describe it thus: Here there arose artistically somewhat later what had arisen earlier in a moralising and ascetic sphere in Francis of Assisi. It enters here into artistic feeling and creation, and leaves a strangely magic atmosphere—this tenderness in contemplating man and Nature. In Raphael it is a native quality, and he continues to express it through his life. This is the feeling which he carries into Rome; it flows from his creations into our hearts and minds if we transplant ourselves into the character they once possessed, for as pictures they have to a great extent been spoilt.

What Raphael thus bears within his soul, having evolved in the lonely country of Urbino, stnads, as it were, alone within the time; and yet taking its start from Raphael, it spread far and wide into the civilisation of mankind. It is as though Raphael with this element were carried everywhere upon the waves of time, and wheresoever he goes he makes it felt—this truly artistic expression of the Christian feeling. This element is everywhere poured out over the influence of Raphael.

Summing up, therefore, we may say: Leonardo lives in the midst of a large and universal understanding. He strikes us, stings us, as it were, into awakeness with his keen World-understanding. Michelangelo lives in the policical understanding of his time; this becomes the dominant impulse of his feeling. Raphael, on the other hand, remaining more or less untouched by all these things, is borne, as it were, upon the waves of time, and bears into the evolution of the ages a well-nigh inexpressible quality of Christian Art. This, then, distinguishes and at once unites the three great masters of the Renaissance; they represent three elements of the Renaissance feeling, as it appears to us historically.

Let us now give ourselves up to the impressions of Leonardo's works. We will first show some of his drawings, which reveal how he creates his forms out of that keen understanding of Nature which I sought to characterise just now. Thereafter, not quite in the historic order, we shall show those of his pictures which have the character of portraits. Only then will we go on to his chief creation, the “Last Supper,” Finally, we shall return and show him once more at his real starting-point. The first picture is a well-known Self-portrait.

This, then, is one of Leonardo's portraits. There follows the other one, still better known.

Here we have a picture from an early period of his development, showing how Leonardo grew out of the School of Verrocchio. Tradition has it that the finely elaborated landscape round this figure here was painted by Leonardo in the School of Verrocchio, and that Verrocchio, seeing what Leonardo could achieve, laid down his brush and would paint no more.

Here, again, you see how Leonardo drew—how he tried, even to the point of caricature, to extract the characteristic features by dint of studious contemplation, as I described just now.

We need not imagine that he stood alone in things like this; they had, indeed, been done by others in his time. Leonardo only stands out through his extraordinary genius, but it was altogether a quest of the time—this search for the strong characteristic features, as against what had come forth in earlier times from higher vision and had grown a mere tradition. It was characteristic of that time to seek for what appears directly to external vision, and thus bring out with emphasis whatever in the outward features of a being is most significant of individual character.

Far more important than the subject-matter, the point was to study and portray with precision the positions of the bones and so forth.

This is the portrayal of a thunderstorm.

The two pictures we now show are not attributed to him with certainty, nor are some others which we shall see presently, but they bear the character of Leonardo and are therefore not without connection.

In this famous picture we see the other aspect of Leonardo, where we might say he seeks to attain the very opposite pole from what was illustrated in the former sketches. There he tried to discover and bring out with emphasis the individual and characteristic in all details. People will often not believe that an artist who can create such a work as the Mona Lisa has any need of going in the other direction to the point of caricature. I have, however, often drawn attention to this fact. Think of the inherently natural impulse whereby our friend the Poet, Christian Morgenstern, went from his sublime, serene creations to the humorous poems with which we are familiar, where he seeks the very extremes of caricature. There is this inner connection in the artist's soul. If he desires to create a work so inwardly complete, harmonious, serene as this, he often has to seek the faculties he needs for such creation by emphasising characteristic individual features even to the point of caricature.

These pictures, which, as I said, are not in historic order, represent Leonardo in the quality of an artist seeking for inner clarity, completeness and perfection.

Here is the Dionysos figure, the God Dionysos. You will find indications on these matters in various other lectures. The painting is based on proven designs and sketches of Leonardo da Vinci. However, it is believed that it was carried out by an unknown student from the workshop of Leonardo and between 1683 and 1693 it was modified and painted to represent Bacchus.

We now come to the Last Supper—which he created, it is true, at an earlier time, and worked upon during a long period. We have often spoken of it. We know what an essential progress in the artistic power of expression is visible in this picture as against the earlier pictures of the Last Supper by Ghirlandajo and others. Observe the life in this picture; see how strongly the individual characters come out in spite of the powerful unity of composition. This is the new thing in Leonardo. The adaptation of the strong individual characters to the composition as a whole is truly wonderful. At the same time each of the four groups of disciples becomes a triad complete and self-contained; and, again, each of these triads is marvellously placed into the whole. The colour and lighting are inexpressibly beautiful. I spoke once before of the part of the colouring in this composition. Here we look deep into the mysterious creative powers of Leonardo. If we try to feel the colours of the picture as a whole, we feel they are distributed in such a way as to supplement one another,—not actually as complementary colours, but in a similar way,—so much so that when we look at the whole picture at once, we have pure light—the colours together are pure light. Such is the colouring in this picture.

We now come to the details of the picture. This is generally considered to be an earlier attempt at the Head of Christ. These reproductions are familiar.

This is Morghan's engraving, from which we gain a more accurate conception of the composition than from the present picture at Milan, which is so largely ruined. You are, of course, familiar with the fate of this picture, of which we have so often spoken.

This is a very recent engraving,—a reproduction which reveals the most minute study. It is frequently admired and yet, perhaps, for one who loves the original as a work of art, it leads too far afield into a sphere of minute and detailed drawing. Still we may recognise in this an independent artistic achievement of considerable beauty.

Here we have a fragment of the battle picture projected by Leonardo, which I mentioned a short while ago.

We will now go on to Michelangelo. Considering Leonardo once again, you will see there is something in him which comes out especially when, instead of taking the chronological order, which is in any case a little uncertain, we take his work in groups, as we have done just now. Then we see clearly what different streams are living in him. The one, which comes out especially in his Last Supper, aims at a peculiar quality of composition combined with an intense delineation of character. It stands apart and alongside of that other tendency in which he does not seek this kind of composition. This other _stream we find expressed in the pictures in the Louvre, and at St, Petersburg and London, which we showed before the Last Supper. It might have come forth at any time; one feels it is almost by chance that the pictures of this kind do not exist from every period in his life. That which comes to expression in these pictures is in no way reminiscent of the peculiar composition in the Last Supper, but aims at a serene composition while seeking to express individual character to a moderate extent.

We now come to Michelangelo. To begin with, his portrait of himself.

Here we have Michelangelo before he reached his independence, working in Florence, perhaps under the influence of Signorelli and others, still, in fact, a pupil.

And now we think of Michelangelo moving to Rome for the first time, under all the influences which I described just now.

Look at this picture and then at the following one; compare the feeling in the two.

Look at this work. Undoubtedly it is created under the feeling of his coming to Rome. A more or less tragic element, a certain sublime pessimism pervades it. Let us return once more to the former one, and you will see the two creations are very similar in their artistic character. They express the same shade of feeling in Michelangelo. We now return once more to the Pieta.

People who feel the story more than the artistic quality as such have often said that the Madonna, for the situation in which she is here portrayed, is far too young. This arose out of a belief which was still absolutely natural in that time and lived in the soul of Michelangelo himself:—the belief that owing to her virgin nature the Madonna never assumed the features of old age.

Here you have the work of which we spoke before. The figure strikes us most of all by its colossal quality, not in the external sense, but a quality mysteriously hidden in its whole artistic treatment.

We now come to the Sistine Chapel. To begin with, we have the Creation of the World,—the first stage, which we might describe as the creation of Light out of the darkness of night.

This picture bears witness to a tradition still living at that time as regards the creation of the World. It was that Jehovah created, in a sense, as the successor of an earlier Creator, whom He overcame, or transcended, and who now departed. The harmony of the net World-creation with the old which it transcended is clearly shown in this picture. Truly, we may say, such ideas as are expressed in this picture have vanished absolutely; they are no longer present.

This, then, is the creation of that which went before mankind.

Here we find the creation of man. There follows the creation of Eve.

We now move more and more away from the theme of World-creation into the theme of History—the further evolution of the human race. This is the fall into sin.

We come to the Sibyls, of whom I have spoken in a former lecture. They represent the one supersensible element in the evolution of man, which is contrasted with the other, the prophetic quality. We shall see the latter presently in the series of the Prophets. Here we have the Sibylline element. In my cycle of lectures given at Leipzig, on “Christ and the Spiritual World,” you will find the fuller description of its relation to the prophetic. That Michelangelo included these things at all, in his series of pictures, proves how closely he connected the earthly life with the supersensible—the spiritual. See now the succession of the Sibyls; observe how a real individual life is poured out into each one: in every detail, each one brings to expression a quite specific visionary character of her own.

Observe the position of the hand. It is no mere chance. Observe the look in her eyes, coming forth out of an elemental life; you will divine many things which we cannot express in words, for that would make the thing too abstract,—but they lie hidden in the artistic treatment.

And now we come to the Prophets.

These are examples of his scenes from the Old Testament.

Here we come to his later period in Florence: to the Medicis and the Chapel at which he had to work for the Medicis under conditions that I described before. I have spoken of these tombs of Juliano and Lorenzo in a lecture which I believe has also been printed.

This is the second tomb, with the figures of Morning and Evening.

Once again we accompany Michelangelo to Rome, where he creates, once more by comman of the Pope, the Last Judgment—the altar-piece for the Sistine Chapel. The greatness of this piece lies in the characterisation, the universal significance of the characters. Consider in this picture all that is destined, as it were, for Heaven, all that is destined for Hell, and Christ in the centre, as the cosmic Judge. You will see how Michelangelo sought to harmonise this cosmic scene. Majestically as it was conceived, with an individual and human feeling. Hermann Grimm drew the head of Christ from the immediate vicinity, and it proved to be very similar to the head of the Apollo of Belvedere. We will now show some of the details.

and another detail, the group above the boat:

And now, though in time it belongs to a somewhat earlier period, we give what Michelangelo created for the monument of Pope Julius; for, in fact, this was never finished, and Michelangelo was working at it in the very latest period of his life and finished portions of it.

It is significant that Pope Julius II, whose character undoubtedly contained a certain greatness, called for this monument to be erected to his efforts. It was to have included a whole series of figures, perhaps thirty in number. It was never completed, but there remained this, the greatest figure in connection with it—Michelangelo's famous figure of Moses, of which we have often spoken,—and the two figures now following:

This was completed in the very latest period of his life. It is hard to say exhaustively how it arose. One thing is certain: the group expresses an idea which Michelangelo carried with him throughout his life. Whether there was another group which has somehow been lost, in which he treated this scene at a very early stage in his career, or whether it was the same block at which he worked again, remodelling it at the end of his life, it is hard to say. But we see it here as his last work. Not only is it the one which he completed when he was a very old man; it corresponds to an artistic idea which he carried throughout his long life, and is connected far more deeply than one imagines with the fundamental feeling of his soul. True, he could not have created it thus at every phase of his life. It would always have turned out a little differently; it would always have reproduced the basic mood of his soul in a somewhat different way. But the deep and pure Christian feeling that lives in Michelangelo comes to expression especially in this particular relationship of Christ to the Mother, in this scene of the entombment. Again and again the idea of the Mystery of Golgotha arises in the soul of Michelangelo in this way:—He feels that with the Mystery of Golgotha a deed of Heavenly Love took place, of an intensity that will hover for ever before the eyes of man as a sublime ideal, but that can never be attained by man even in the remotest degree, and must therefore inspire with a tragic mood him who beholds these World-events.

And now imagine, with this idea living in his soul, Michelangelo saw Rome becoming Jesuitical. With this idea in his soul, he underwent all the feelings of which I spoke; and whatever he saw in the world, he measured in relation to this standard. Truly, he underwent much in his long life. While he was creating his earliest artistic works in Florence, the Pope in Rome was Alexander VI, the Borgia. Then he was summoned to Rome, and painted the Creation of the World for Pope Julius. We see the dominion of the Gorgias in Rome replaced by Pope Julius, and then by the Medici, Leo X. In this connection we must realise that Pope Julius II, although he worked with poison, murder, slander, etc., was none the less in earnest about Christian Art. Pope Julius, who replaced the political Borgia princes, strove for the Papal See in order to make it great through spiritual life. Although he was a man of war, nevertheless, in his inmost soul, even as a fighter, he only thought of himself as in the service of spiritual Rome. Of Julius II we must not fail to realise that he was a man of spiritual aims, thoroughly in earnest with all that lay in his impulse to re-erect the Church of St. Peter, and, indeed, with all that he achieved for Art. He was selflessly in earnest about these things. It may sot strange to say this of a man who in carrying out his plans made use of poison, murder and the like. Yet such was the custom of the time in the circles with whose help he realised his plans. His highest ideal, none the less, was that which he desired to bring into the world through the great artists. For a spirit like Michelangelo it is, indeed, profoundly tragical to feel how a perfect good can never find its realisation in the world, but must always be realised one-sidedly. Yet, this was not all, for he lived to witness the transition to the commercial Popes, if we may call them so—those of the house of Medici, who were, in truth, far more concerned with their own ambitions, and were fundamentally different in spirit from Julius II and even from the Borgias. Certainly, these were no better men. We must, however, judge all these things in relation to the time itself. It is easy nowadays to feel Pope Alexander VI, or his son Caesar Borgia, or Julius II, as human atrocities; for today it is permitted to write of them quite independently and freely, whereas many a later phenomenon cannot yet be characterised with equal freedom: But we must also realise:—The sublime works achieved at that time are not without causal relationship with the characters of all these Popes,—indeed, many things would certainly not have come to pass if Savonarola or Luther had occupied the Papal See. And now we come to Raphael.

Here is the picture of which I spoke last time. We will bring it before our souls once more. On the left we have the same subject treated by Perugino, and on the right by Raphael. It is the Sposalizio or Marriage of the Virgin. Here you can see how Raphael grew out of the School of his teacher, Perugino, and you can recognise the great advance. At the same time, we see in the picture on the left all that is characteristic of this School on the level from which Raphael began. See the characteristic faces, their healthily—as we today call it—sentimental expression. See the peculiar postures of the feet. A certain characterisation is attempted; yet it is all enclosed in a certain aura of which I spoke before,—which appears again in Raphael, transfigured, as it were, raised into a new form and power of composition. You recognise here the growth of this power of composition, too. But if you compare the details, you will find that in Raphael it is grasped more clearly and yet at the same time it is more gentle, it is not so hard.

This whole picture is to be conceived of as a world of dream. It is generally known as the “Dream of a Knight.”

We will now let work upon us a number of Raphael's pictures of the Madonna and of the sacred legend. These—especially the Madonnas—are the works of Raphael which first carried him out into the world.

In all these pictures you still have the old, characteristic postures and attitudes which Raphael took with him from his home country.

These are the Madonnas which bear witness to the further development of Raphael. Ile follow him now into the time when he went to Rome. It is not known historically exactly when that was. Probability is that he did not simply go there in a given year,—1500 is generally assumed—but that he had been to Rome more than once and gone back again to Florence, and that from 1500 onward he worked in Rome continuously. Now, therefore, we follow him to Rome and come to those pictures which he painted there for Pope Julius.

This picture is well-known to you all, and we, too, have spoken of it in former lectures. Many preparatory sketches of it exist. In the form in which you see it here, it was done to the order of the Pope,—the Pope who craved, as I said just now, to make Rome spiritually great.

We must, however, hold fast to one point, which is revealed by the fact that some elements of the motif of this picture appear at a very early stage, even in Perugia, representing this idea, this scene, or, rather, the motif of it.

Thus the idea was already living at that early stage, and was able to take shape in this remarkable corner of East-Central Italy.

We must conceive the motif of the picture as living in the very time itself. Below are the human beings—theologians, for the most part. These theologians are well aware that everything which human reason can discover is related to what St. Thomas Aquinas called the “Praeambula Fidei,” and must be permeated by what comes down from Spiritual Worlds as real inspiration, wherein are mingled the attainments of the great Christian and pre-Christian figures of history, and by means of which alone the secret of the Trinity is to be understood. This mystery, we must conceive, bursts down into the midst of the disputations of the theologians below. We may conceive that this picture is painted out of the will to unite the Christian life quite fundamentally with Rome—to make Rome once more the center of Christianity by rebuilding the derelict Church of St. Peter, according to the desires of Pope Julius. Under the influence of the Pope, wishing to achieve a new greatness of Christianity centered in Rome, such ideas are brought together with the fundamental concept; the secret of the Trinity. This fact explains what I may call, perhaps, the outer trimmings of the picture. (Even in the architectural elements which it contains, we see designs which re-occur in St. Peter's.) It is as though this picture were to proclaim: Now once again the secret of the Trinity shall be taught to the whole world by Rome. There are many preliminary sketches showing not only that Raphael only by and by achieved the final composition, but that this whole way of thinking about the inspiration, the Idea of the Trinity had been living in him for a long time. It was certainly not the case that the Pope said: “Paint me such and such a picture.” He rather said, “Tell me of the idea that has been living in you for so long,” and thus together, so to speak, they arrived at the conception which we now see on the wall of the Segnatura.

Now we come to the picture which, as you know, is commonly named the School of Athens, chiefly because the two central figures are supposed to be Plato and Aristotle. The one thing certain is that they are not. I will not dwell on other views that have been put forward. I have spoken of this picture, too, on previous occasions. But they are certainly not Plato and Aristotle. True, we may recognise in these figures many an ancient philosopher, but that is not the point of the picture. The real point is, that in contrast to what is called “Inspiration” Raphael also wished to portray what man receives through his intelligence when he directs it to the supersensible and applies it to investigate the causes of things. The various attitudes which man can then assume are expressed in the several figures. No doubt Raphael introduced the traditional figures of ancient philosophers, as, indeed, he always tried to make use of this or that tradition. But that is not his real point; the point was to contrast the supersensible Inspiration, the descent of the super-sensible as an inspiration to man, on the one hand; and on the other hand the attainment of a knowledge of the world of causes through the intelligence of man directed to the Supersensible. In this sense, the two central figures are to be understood as follows: On the one hand we have a man still in the younger years of life, a man with less experience of life, who speaks more as a man who looks around him on the Earth, there to perceive the causes of things. Beside him is the old, old. man who has assimilated very much in life, and knows how to apply what he has seen on Earth to heavenly things. And then there are the other figures who, partly by meditation, partly by arithmetical, geometrical or other exercises, or by the study and interpretation of the Gospels and the sacred writings, seek to discover the causes of things by applying their human intellect. I have already spoken of these things and I believe that Lecture, too, has been made accessible. I think if we take the contrast of the two pictures in this way, we shall not be misled into nonsensical speculations as to whether this one is Pythagoras or the other Plato or Aristotle—which speculations are at all events beside the mark and inartistic. Much ingenuity has been applied in deciphering the several figures: Nothing could be more superfluous in relation to these pictures. Rather should we study to observe the wonderful varieties expressed in the search for all that is attainable by the intelligence of man.

You may also compare the two pictures. In this present picture the whole thing is placed in an architectural setting, whereas in the other, the “Disputa,” the wide World is the setting. It is the difference between Inspiration whose house is the great universal edifice and the quest of the human intelligence which, as you see it here, goes on in an enclosed and human space.

We come to what is attainable in the human sphere, without the latter being influenced out of the supersensible.

This is like a commentary to the Disputa—the knowledge of the Divine Mysteries represented in a more allegorical figure, and leading on to the Disputa.

Here we have a picture taken from the whole complex which Raphael did for Pope Julius II in order to inspire the idea that Christianity must gain the victory and all that resists it must be overcome.

This is only another aspect of the same idea.

Also belonging to the same group.

Raphael's Sibyls. If you remember those of Michelangelo, you will observe the immense difference. In the Sibyls of Raphael—I beg you to see it for yourselves—human figures are portrayed, to represent beings standing within the cosmos,—Beings into whom the whole cosmos is working. They themselves are dreaming, as it were, within the cosmos as a very part of it and have not fully come to consciousness. The various supersensible Beings, angelic figures between them, bring them the secrets of the worlds. Thus they are dreamy Beings, living within the universal nexus. Michelangelo, on the other hand, portrays the human and individual in all that his Sibyls are dreaming, or evolving out of their dream-consciousness. Michelangelo has to create out of the individual, nay, we may even say, the personal character of each one. These Sibyls of Raphael, on the other hand, live and move and have their being over and above the individual. Even inasmuch as they are individual, they live and move in a cosmic life.

In this room we have the picture of the Transfiguration. (No picture of room available)

Here is the picture itself. It is even possible that Raphael himself did not complete it, but left it unfinished at his death. Christ is soaring heavenward.

To those who say that Raphael in his latest period painted visionary pictures, we need only reply by pointing to this figure (the figure of the boy). It is portrayed in a perfectly real, Occultly realistic sense, how the figure makes it possible for the scene to become visible to the others. Through what I would call the mediumistic nature of the unconsciousness of madness, this figure influences the others, enabling them to behold such a thing as this.

Here we have the figure of the Christ.

And now, my dear friends, think of all that Raphael had painted. All that has passed before you was contained between his twenty-first and his thirty-seventh year, in which he died. In his twenty-first year he painted the first picture which we showed—the Marriage of the Virgin—contrasting it with Perugino's painting. Hermann Grimm worked out in a beautiful way something that bears eloquent witness to Raphael's free and independent evolution, proving even outwardly to some extent what I just said before. Raphael, although he was carried on the waves of time, and learnt, of course, very much from the world, nevertheless took with him into Rome the peculiar nature of that Middle-Eastern part of Italy. In spite of his youth, he created out of his own inmost nature and progressed undisturbed, with perfect regularity in his evolution. Hermann Grimm pointed out that we come to the chief culminating points in Raphael's creative work if, starting from his twenty-first year, we go forward in successive periods of four years. From his twenty-first year we have his Sposalizio; four years later the Entombment, which we have not shown today—an exceedingly characteristic picture, which, especially when we take into account the related sketches and everything connected with it, expresses a certain climax in the work of Raphael. And then, once more, four years later, we have a climax of creative work in the Camera della Segnatura in the Vatican. Progressing thus by stages of four years, we see how Raphael undergoes his evolution. He stands there in the world with absolute individuality, obeying an impulse connected only with his incarnation, which impulse he steadily unfolds and places into the world something that takes its course with perfect regularity, like the evolution of mankind.

And now consider these three figures all together,—standing out as a summit in the life of Art, in the evolution of mankind. It lies in the deep tragedy of human evolution that this supreme attainment is connected with a succession of Popes—Alexander VI, Borgia, Julius II, Leo X,—men who occupy the first position as regards their artistic aims and who were called upon to play their part in human evolution as rulers in high places. And yet they were of such a character as to take with them into these high places the worst extremes which even that age could nroduce by way of murder, misrepresentation, cruelty and poison. And yet, undoubtedly—down to the Medici, who always retained their mercantile spirit,—they were sincere and in earnest where Art was concerned. Julius II was an extraordinary man, inclined to every kind of cruelty, never scrupling to use misrepresentation and even poison as though it were, in a world-historic sense, the best of homely remedies. Yet it was rightly said of this man that he never made a promise that he did not keep. And to the artists, above all, he kept his promise to a high degree; nor did he ever bind or fetter them, so long as they were able to render him the services which he desired, in the work which he intended.

Consider, alongside of this succession of Popes, the great men who created these works—the three great characters who have passed before our souls today. Think how in the one, in Leonardo, there lived much that has not yet been developed further, even today. Think how there lived in Michelangelo the whole great tragedy of his own time, and of his fatherland, both in the narrower and in the wider sense. Think how there lived in Raphael the power to transcend his Age. For while he was most intensely receptive to all the world around that carried him as on the waves of time, nevertheless, he was a self-contained nature. Consider, moreover, how neither Leonardo nor Michelangelo could carry into their time that which could work upon it fully. Michelangelo wrestled to bring forth, to express out of the human individuality itself all that was contained in his time; and yet, after all, he never created anything which the age was fully able to receive. Still less could Leonardo do so, for Leonardo bore within his soul far greater things than his Age could realise. And as to Raphael—he unfolded a human nature which remained for ever young. He was predestined, as it were, by providential guidance to evolve such youthfulness with an intensity which could never grow old. For, in effect, the time itself, into which all that came forth from his inner impulses was born, first had to grow young. Only now there comes the time when men will begin to understand less and less of Raphael. For the time has grown older than that which Raphael could give to it.

In conclusion, we will show a few of Raphael's portraits.

These, then, are the two Popes who were his patrons.

We have come to the end of our pictures.

In the near future, following on the tree great masters of the Renaissance, we shall speak of Holbein, Durer, and the other masters—the parallel phenomena of these developments in Southern Europe.

Today I wanted especially to bring before our souls these three masters of the Renaissance. I have tried to describe a little of what was living in them, and of their stimulus if, starting from any point of their work, you dwell on the historic factors which influenced and entered into them. You will perceive the necessary tragedy of human history, which has to live itself out in one-sidedness. We can learn much for our judgment of all historic things, if we study how the world-historic process played into that Florentine Age whose greatness is identified with Raphael, Michelangelo and Leonardo. Today especially I fancy no one will regret the time he spends in dwelling on a historic moment like the year 1505, when Michelangelo, Leonardo and Raphael were at the same time in Florence—Raphael still as a younger man, learning from the others; and the other two vying with one another, painting battle-pieces, glorifying the deeds that belonged to political history. Especially at the present moment, anyone who has vision for the facts of history in all its domains, and sees the significance of outward political events for the spiritual life, will profit greatly by the study of that time. Consider what was working then:—how the artistic life sought and found its place in the midst of the outer events, and how through these artistic and external events of the time, the greatest impulses of human evolution found their way. See how intimately there were interwoven human brutality and high-mindedness, human tyranny and striving towards freedom. If you let these things work upon you from whatever aspect, you will not regret the loss of time, for you will learn a great deal even for your judgment of this present moment. Above all, you will have cause to rid yourself of the belief that the greatest words necessarily signify that the greatest ideas are behind them, or that those who in our days are speaking most of freedom have any understanding at all of what freedom is. In other directions, too, much can be gained for the sharpening of our judgment in this present time, by studying the events which took place in Florence at the beginning of the 16th century, while under the immediate impression of Savonarola who had just been put to death. We see that Florence in the midst of Italy, at a time when Christianity had assumed a form whereby it slid over on the one hand into the realm of Art, while on the other hand the moral feelings of mankind made vigorous protest against it, was a form fundamentally different from that of Jesuitism which found its way into the political and religious stream immediately afterwards, and played so great a part in the politics of the succeeding centuries down to our day.

Of course, it is not proper at this moment to say any more about these things. Perhaps, however, some of you will guess for yourselves, if you dwell upon the chapter of human evolution whose artistic expression we have today let work upon our

When it comes to ideas that are intended to be realized in practical life, complete fallacies are basically less harmful than half-truths and three-quarters truths. For complete fallacies can be refuted relatively easily and are unlikely to last long in public life. Half-truths and three-quarters truths are extraordinarily strong temptations in view of the complexity of life. They are carried through life by various passions, by the emotions of the mind, until perhaps, after severe struggles or perhaps after severe suffering, one comes to the conclusion that such half-truths and quarter-truths are just that and cannot be applied to life as they are conceived.

Anyone who looks at modern life with an unbiased eye, especially after the hard years of trial that civilized humanity has now gone through, will have to make such a confession, as I have just made, especially to what has long been called the social question in the present day. For basically, a whole bunch of half-truths and quarter-truths are being bundled together in this social question from all sides.

Now, the attempt has been made in my book “The Key Points of the social question in the necessities of life of the present and the future”, to look at what this modern social work, this modern social question, actually contains, apart from the half-truths and quarter-truths of the programs, and what it can realistically steer towards. What is set out in these “key issues” should then be further developed for Switzerland, for example in the “Social Future” published by Dr. Boos.

Before I go into my actual task for this evening, please allow me to make a very brief personal comment that is, however, related to the topic. What I have attempted is a conscious attempt that is aware of its imperfections. What I have attempted in my book “The Crux of the Social Question” did not arise from any given political direction, does not want to take any given political position, and does not want to directly interfere in the given political life of the present. It has arisen out of a very long observation of life and does not want to be any kind of program, any kind of abstract social idea, but wants to be a result of practical life itself, as it has presented itself to me since I had the opportunity - through the fate of my life it has come about that I have had the opportunity to really get to know, I may say, all, may I say, classes and categories of people in the contemporary world, to get to know them in their mutual demands, in their mutual misunderstandings, in their cooperation and non-cooperation. And since in my earlier years, whenever I had the opportunity to touch on subjects such as today's, I basically had to deal mainly with spiritual science as such, I may say that nothing whatever is influenced by any party affiliation in what I will have to express before you. My life has led me through many things, but in any case never through any party. And what has been the result of decades of social observation, always undertaken from the point of view of spiritual science, will, ladies and gentlemen, also prevent me from ever being able to participate in any given party program.

So it is suggestions for real practical implementation that are at issue. It is only natural that such proposals, when discussed, must be couched in more or less seemingly abstract sentences; but these abstract sentences are only intended to express what is life experience, which can certainly serve as a basis for practical life organization.

If we look at social life from such a non-programmatic but practical point of view, as it has developed for more for more than half a century, especially in the civilized world as it concerns us, we look at this social life, we will find that the perception of this social life is fundamentally different, and has been fundamentally different for decades, for more than half a century, between the leading classes of humanity on the one hand and the broad, broad masses of the proletarian people on the other.

From living together – I was a teacher at a Berlin workers' education school for many years – I was able to get to know the way of thinking of the broad proletarian masses, and not only the way of thinking, but also the way of feeling and emotion, as it expresses itself in what then crystallizes into the social demands of the present and also of the near future.

What then emerged in my “Key Points of the Social Question” is a condensation of what is based on the insights that I believed I always had to gain from observation and from the insights that showed me that, with what underlies the demands of the broad proletarian masses as a conscious idea, as a conscious party program, we cannot make any progress in the social question, , that this proletarian mass has surrendered itself to half-truths and quarter-truths in a fateful sense, and that precisely the one who is serious and honest in the social question cannot stop at what is formulated under the influence of the work of Karl Marx and his followers, more than half a century ago – the beginning was more than half a century ago. As I said, my “Key Points of the Social Question” were written under the impression of this realization, at a moment when one might believe that such truths, such insights, can be understood through the confirmation they have received from the world of facts. They were written when the disaster that had been brought about by the war, the so-called World War, had been raging for years. I do not mean the outcome of the war, I mean the fact that this disaster, this terrible killing, could happen to modern civilized humanity at all.

In the early spring of 1914, I had to express in Vienna that who, from the spiritual-scientific point of view, looks at the development of modern humanity, has the idea that modern social development resembles an illness, a kind of ulcer formation, which could break out in a terrible way in the near future. This book was written at a time when a current that had developed out of programmatic Marxism should have led to a practical result in Russia. What must be called the terrible failure of Marxism in Russia, which is obvious to anyone who is not biased, could have been the first confirmation of the ideas expressed in The Essential Points of the Social Question. Since then, further confirmations have occurred. I need only point to the failure of the Hungarian Revolution, which had to crush so many hopes. And finally, I need only point out that the German Revolution of November 9, 1918, has not yet been completed, but is certainly in prospect.

Those who are familiar with the circumstances can know today that this German Revolution is a terribly loudly proclaimed experiment in world history, an experiment which shows, as never before, how incapable the ideas are, which the 19th century produced in many circles in the social field, of bringing about any practical organization of life. Let us look at these ideas from one side. Let us look at them as they are felt by the modern proletariat under the influence of those impulses that stem from so-called Marxism, as founded by Karl Marx and Engels, which is truly not a mere theory, but is alive in the feelings and perceptions of the broad masses.

This Marxism was the first to create in wide circles of the proletarian population what might be called disbelief in a spiritual world. To the discerning, this disbelief in the spiritual world on the part of the proletariat appears more important than anything else. Ideology is the word that one encounters when one is accustomed not to think about the proletariat, but to feel and live with it. Ideology means, or at least should mean, the whole spiritual life. Law, custom, morality, art, science, religion, all this is basically only like a smoke that rises as something merely imagined from the economy, imagined, that rises from the only true reality, which consists in the economic relations of production, in the economic processes.

Under the influence of the personalities mentioned, this proletariat saw the true reality in what the economic system is. The way people organize their economic lives, the way they participate in economic life, and the way they relate to the means of production in economic life – as they are taught – comes from mere material labor. What arises in them as ideas, what arises in them as moral ideals, what is ultimately religion, what is science, what is art: none of this has any inner spiritual reality, so they say, but all of it is like a mirror image of pure economic reality.

And if you look at what this view has been formed from, you have to say: This view is the legacy of the world view that has emerged over the last three to four centuries under the influence of the leading, guiding circles of humanity. It is not true that modern social life has come about solely through capitalism and through what has been associated with this capitalism in modern times through modern technology. No, it is the case that, at the same time as modern capitalism and modern technology emerged, a certain world view emerged that only wants to deal with chemical, mechanical, and physical facts and does not want to rise to an independent understanding of spiritual life. The technical complexity of modern economic life has succeeded in flooding everything, as it were, with the influences and impulses of this economic life. Just as economic life was separated from technology, and technology from modern science, so a purely scientific worldview emerged, a worldview that consisted only of ideas, concepts, and thoughts related to the external mechanical, chemical, and physical life. This modern life had no power to grasp any other ideas, other world-view thoughts, than those that broadly relate to the inauguration of economic life, to the inauguration of modern technical operations. This scientific direction, this whole modern thinking, was incapable of other ideas. Through this modern thinking one could answer the question of how external mechanical processes take place and how to set them in motion in practical life; one could communicate chemically and physically through this science, but one thing remained absent from these ideas, from these thoughts of science, that which is closest to man: man himself. Rather, it was better said, one only understood the human being insofar as he was composed of material substances, mechanical, physical and chemical forces. But since the human being is also spirit and soul, one did not really understand the human being in this way. And one had a world view from which thoughts about the human being were actually excluded. No one answered in this modern way the question of how physical processes arise, as this modern science answered in an incomparably perfect way. No one answered this modern man in a modern way the question so perfectly: How do mental processes arise? What is man in his innermost being?

And you see, the leading and guiding circles kept as heirlooms, as traditions, what had been handed down from religion, from art, from old worldviews, from old customs. This filled the soul of the modern ruling circles. They cultivated this as something that meant something to them alongside the scientific world view, alongside what was incorporated into technology and economics as science. And so a dual trend arose in the inner life of the leading and guiding circles: one trend, which, so to speak, far removed from life, posed religious questions, formulated moral principles, and formed art and certain world views. Ask yourselves, ladies and gentlemen, how far removed from the practical side of life, for example, the modern merchant, or the modern industrialist or the modern civil servant, is from what he feels and experiences as a religious person, from what he his sense of goodness as a human being, his aesthetic feelings, how far removed that is from what happens in his life and is expressed in his office and in his bookkeeping. There are two very different currents of life. And the one, the spiritual current of life, which is basically an heirloom from ancient times, has no power to penetrate into the outer life. In what is the outer practice of life, the contingencies of the day live, that which, I might say, lives in the practice of life by itself. Then one likes to withdraw from life and regards the religious, the spiritual-moral, the artistic life as something that floats above life. But it was only by cultivating this inner spiritual life, separate from the practical outer life, that the leading and governing circles of modern civilization were able to give their souls any content at all.

The proletarian, who was removed from the old crafts and put at the machine, at the abstract machine, which has so little in common with in the human soul, the proletarian could not, because his feelings, which he could only develop while standing at the machine, did not correspond to them, he could not take over the old traditions, customs, law, art, religion, the world view that had been handed down from older times and in which the leading classes lived despite the modern soulless and spiritless technical economy. What emerged from this economy itself remained for him. And so he formed a world view, so his leaders formed a world view for him, which is spiritless and soulless, an ideology.

An ideology can be theoretically represented. An ideology can be thought up. With an ideology, one can even appear very clever. But you cannot live with an ideology, because it hollows out the soul. The human soul can only truly live when it does not believe that its thoughts are mere unreal thoughts; but when it can be aware that what lives in it connects to a living, real, spiritual world.

And so much is talked about in the socialist program; one does not even need to look at what is being said, because what happens in people's minds in this way is very different from what really lives in their souls. But what really lives in the souls of the broad masses of the intellectual population today is spiritual desolation. This is proof that one can think with what is modern world view, but one cannot live with it. That is the first part of the social question.

I know very well how many people, from their point of view, from their conscious point of view, rightly say: You are talking about the social question as a spiritual question. For us, it is about balancing social differences, social differentiations. For us, it is about ensuring that bread is distributed equally among people. Yes, that is a superficial view which only those can hold who do not penetrate beneath the surface of things. For the social question is present in the feelings, in the subconscious life of the modern proletariat. Try as much as you like to satisfy the purely material needs of this proletariat, if you could - you will not be able to - you would see: the social question will have to arise in a new form. It will not go away as long as intellectual life has the same relationship to the proletarian soul as I have just described. For people only believe that it comes from material interests. In truth, it comes from the hollowed-out souls, from the meaningless lives.

This must be recognized as the true basis of those social sentiments and of that widespread yearning which are found among the proletariat.

The second aspect is revealed to those who, as I said before, have not only learned to think and feel like the proletariat, but can actually think and feel with the proletariat. He comes to realize what it means for the modern proletarian when it is repeatedly made clear to him, with reference to Marxism, that he stands at the machine, he works, but he receives only wages for his work. You pay for his labor with his wages, just as you pay for goods on the market.

The modern proletarian feels that human labor cannot be a commodity, that it should not be sold and bought on the market like a commodity! From this arises what the modern proletarian calls his class consciousness. Out of this class consciousness he wants to create the possibility that human labor power will no longer be a commodity; for he has the feeling that what he works at not only produces the values that play a role in economic life as justified values, but that it produces surplus value, which is taken from him by those who are the leading, leading circles, as he believes, the capitalist circles.

And so the connection between surplus value and the inhumane buying and selling of human labor as a commodity is what moves the proletarian as a second point.

And the third point, what is it? You get to know it when you observe how, basically, the leading and guiding circles have developed a significantly different inclination for social issues than those that were imposed on them by the proletariat making demands. It must be said that few people in the leading and ruling circles are inclined, of their own accord, to really engage with the core issues of the social question, simply because those who are in a position are always much less inclined to think about the development of that position than those who are just trying to gain a position. But as a result, more in the subconscious, in the instinctive, than in the clear consciousness, in the broad circles of the proletariat, the view had to arise that it could expect nothing at all from the leading, guiding circles, that it had to rely on itself alone for a solution to the social question. And so something arose that is one of the most disastrous things in recent historical development. What I am about to say is based on a word that is often spoken and often heard, but whose deeper meaning is little understood. You probably know that the Communist Manifesto, which in 1848 initiated the Marxist social movement, concludes with the words: “Proletarians of all countries, unite!” It is understandable for those who get to know the modern proletarian movement that this word has come. And the effect of this word is fateful in the most terrible sense, for it points from the outset to what is to happen, to struggle. And this struggle is still to be relied upon today. It relies on struggle. It does not rely on the fact that people come together under the momentum and thrust of an idea that is to be realized in practical life; it does not rely on faith in the power of the spirit. This word, it relies on the external material connection of a class of people, on the unspiritual. And it expresses itself in this word clearly and unmistakably the disbelief in the spiritual in the most disastrous way, the more this word inculcates the souls. And it may also be said that the more thoughtlessly it is listened to, without grasping its fateful significance in world history, the more humanity must sail into unbelief in the spiritual, and cannot, because material interests unite, as they belong to a class, to what life must move in its inmost depths: to belief in the power of spiritual impulses.

This is how the so-called modern social question presents itself from the point of view of the proletariat. And this proletariat has seen that certain social ills, which it feels in its own body, have developed under the influence of capital and modern technology. What does it mean? It means that these damages will cease when private property is converted into common property, when what is now managed and administered by individuals is managed and administered by the community.

And so we see how the proletarian demand repeatedly sounds in the call that is already taking on a catastrophic form today: conversion of the means of production, conversion of private ownership of the means of production into common ownership and common administration of the means of production. Only then, the proletarian believes, will salvation come to him, when no longer the individual administers the means of production according to the profit interest, but when the human community, in which everyone can participate in a democratic way, administers these means of production. And because the proletariat believes itself betrayed by the people who belong to the leading, guiding circles, because it believes that these leading, guiding circles are not at all interested in what a shaping of social life is from their interests, so what has developed over the course of many decades is heard together in the call for a kind of dictatorship of the proletariat itself in the replacement of old administrative and social conditions with new ones.

But these things must be seen clearly, not from a party point of view, these things must be seen completely impartially. Perhaps one can only see clearly if one also considers the opposite point of view. Whether the proletarian demands, as they are formulated today in a large number of newspapers and books, and how they consciously live in the souls of the proletarians, whether they are right or not, that is the question. For real movements are not about ideas, but about what lives in the will of men. It must be borne in mind that millions of people believe these things, and that it is not a matter of refuting these things in the abstract, be it in this way or that, but rather of getting to the point where their practical application is really understood in terms of life and reality. Precisely because the leading and guiding circles, I might say, had as a by-product of their economic activity the fact that they did not have to struggle with life, or at least did not have to struggle in such a way as the proletariat, precisely for this reason, the social question has not developed to the same extent as it did for the proletariat, where all the questions I have mentioned now, I would say, merge into a kind of stomach or bread or money question. The social question has not developed in such a way as to become an immediate question of practical life, of the personal interest of each individual, because personal interests are promoted like a by-product under the influence of modern life. Therefore, the leading, guiding circles have not experienced in the same field what the proletarian world has had. You can take it however you like, the great tempter or seducer Karl Marx or the ingenious, pioneering Karl Marx, it depends on your point of view, but there was no similar Karl Marx for the leading, guiding circles. Therefore, it seems today that basically the right light is not falling on the proletarian demands. They can be proved, they can be refuted; but other views are also possible, which can be proved or refuted just as well, and which represent the opposite view.

You see, the proletarian interprets everything that develops as a human world of ideas in art, custom, science and so on as a kind of mirror image of the purely economic conditions, which only he can see. For him, human thoughts are only that which is triggered in man like a mirror image of economic interests, of the conditions of production. Everything that people think and feel arises from the economic conditions of production – so says the proletarian.

The opposite could easily be proven by the other side with exactly the same right to prove it. And let us take just one example: it is child's play, I might say, to prove that this whole modern economic life, as we have it especially in the civilization of the Occident and its offshoot, America, that this whole human economic life, as it dominates the modern world, is a result of human thoughts, which in turn are born out of the spiritual world. This can be proven quite concretely. There is no need to get stuck in abstract ideas. Take the following.

If we consider the conditions before the war, it can be said that in the Western world about four to five hundred million tons of coal are produced annually. For the mechanical work among people, through industry and other things, these four hundred to five hundred million tons of coal are processed in modern economic life. I am calculating by putting this number, four to five hundred million tons, in front of you, everything that is necessary for private property and so on. That which flows into modern life through these millions of tons of coal, which are processed in the machines, in the form of power and technology that then becomes economic power, can be calculated, one can calculate what it does for humanity. What matters is that the comparison must be made with horsepower and with human power. If we now assume that a person works about eight hours a day, a simple calculation shows how many people would have to apply how much manpower if they were to achieve the same thing by applying human power that is achieved in a technical way in the further technical processing by these millions of tons of coal. The strange thing is that the calculation shows that seven to eight hundred million people would have to work, would have to give their labor, if they wanted to achieve the same thing through human labor that is achieved with the energy derived from these coals.

You see, this possibility of incorporating coal energy into economic life comes solely from the thoughts that have developed under the influence of the spiritual development of the West. A comparison with the economic conditions of the Orient shows this. There are, let us say, 250 million people who have the strength to carry out the ideas that have arisen from their minds, and who have provided everything needed to set this modern economic life in motion; there remain about 1,250 million people who have not participated in this life. If we calculate what these people achieve in the same daily working hours, we get a figure that is far lower than that which indicates how much is achieved through coal mining and coal processing in the mechanical field. But that means nothing other than that what is specifically modern economic life is a result of human thoughts. And these human thoughts truly did not arise out of matter; they are the result of the development of Western culture. And it can be proved that through these thoughts, through this way of working, human forces of a further 700 to 800 million are added to our 1500 million people on earth. So that in reality we are working on the earth today as if not only 1500 million were working, but as if well over 2000 million people were working. It can easily be proved that all this, which is the actual structure, the actual character of this modern economic life, from which the social questions have arisen, that this is a result of the development of the mind, that this mind is by no means an ideology, but that this spirit is the creator of economic life.

That is, on the one hand, there is the proletarian view, and on the other hand, the usual opposing view, which can be proven just as well as the other view. And just as one can calculate in a Marxist way how people work to create added value, which is the value that prevails in legitimate economic life, one can prove, just as scientifically and rigorously as Marxism does, that all of modern economic life stems from the ideas of the leading, guiding circles of people, and that what is paid out as wages is worked out of what the guiding, leading circles achieve for humanity socially. Just as one can calculate the surplus value that accrues from labor on the one hand, one can just as easily calculate the total of all wages as that which accrues from what the leading, guiding circles, from the bearers of human thought, achieve .

But that has not happened, and I am convinced that it has not happened for the sole reason that, on the other side, out of carelessness, a “Karl Marx” did not work who would have proved this just as well as the real Karl Marx proved his theory for the proletariat. What I am going to tell you now is truly not some abstract invention. Just as I have demonstrated it from the extraction of coal, so you can demonstrate it from the facts of economic life that the opposite of what Marx demonstrated is true, only to a limited extent for surplus value.

If we consider the structure that modern technology has economic life, it should be borne in mind that this modern technology arises from human thought and that this in turn arises from intellectual life, and that a certain concentration of the means of production is necessary for special times, which, simply because of advanced technology, must be concentrated and managed by individuals. If you put forward the abstract demand for surplus value, which can be gained from means of production that are to be managed communally, in opposition to what modern economic life and modern production conditions have developed – concentrations of the means of production that are now in the hands of individuals – then you will see what happens! Of course, one can raise the abstract demand that what has been achieved so far by the leading and guiding circles, who have provided the ideas for the structure of the modern economy, be taken from them and managed by the community. But to those who do not look into the workings of life from the point of view of human feeling and emotion, but observe them impartially, this appears as a threatening thought for the near future of humanity: If it could really happen that the takeover of what has been achieved so far by individuals [...] - even if it has caused damage in its wake - if that were to be achieved by the community, then it would probably happen to this community as it happened to the Japanese in the mid-seventies of the last century, who, out of a certain national pride, took over the first warships from the English. The English also offered them instructors for these warships, but they sent the English instructors away and wanted to do it themselves. And now one could see from the shore the beautiful spectacle of how the gunboats continually turned in circles; they could not move forward because the Japanese had not learned how to do it. It had been forgotten to show how to close and open the valve that releases the excess steam. And so they could do nothing but wait until the steam power was completely used up.

Thus, if we look at how things are really going in social life today, we fear that what the individuals in the leading and guiding circles achieve, albeit with damage, out of expertise and skill, could be taken over by the abstract community, which judges democratically, how what is to be produced, with the technical administrations and so on, is to be arranged.

These are all things that do not depend on party programs, that do not result from a party template, but that do result for the person who in a practical and unbiased way, and really has the will to respond to this life in a practical and unbiased way.

And the first thing that will result from this is also the first thing I had to conclude in my “Key Points of the Social Question in the Necessities of Life in the Present and Future”. What is needed above all for humanity is, in addition to knowledge of nature, which is truly the creator of modern technology and thus of modern economic life, a true knowledge of the human being, in addition to this natural knowledge.

You see, you are also told from many other sides about that complicated world view that is supposed to be incorporated into what is now being built in Dornach as a monumental building, a kind of “School of Spiritual Science, anthroposophically oriented spiritual science” is what the thing calls itself. You would do well to assume from the outset, as it were, as an axiom, that what I call anthroposophical spiritual science is the very opposite of what is usually said by those who do not know it in the world. For this spiritual science is about finding our way to natural science as the spiritual foundation of modern economic life, about finding our way to a real knowledge of human nature. That is why this spiritual science is called anthroposophy, human wisdom, a real knowledge of the human being. Modern natural science is quite right not to concern itself with the knowledge of nature and everything that is connected with mechanical, chemical, physical, technical life and economics, and not to concern itself with the human being, but to leave the human being in the background, so to speak, like a spectator. But that is the disastrous thing, that in recent times everything that is in the way of ideas in natural science is also applied to social thinking, that one believes that one can permeate social life with those thoughts that are extraordinarily useful for natural science, that have raised natural science to a pure height; but in social thinking, one must live in them. There must prevail a consciousness that truly penetrates to the human being.

This consciousness is what spiritual science wants to add to what in modern times is merely natural science thinking and, depending on it, social thinking. And this spiritual science wants to penetrate deeper into the human being than one can with anatomy, with physiology, with biology, through which one only gets to know the outer human being. This spiritual science wants to penetrate into the depths of human nature, where something takes place that is not mere thoughts, where realities take place that are the same as the realities of outer life, and the same as the realities of outer nature.

On the one hand, this spiritual science wants to truly rise to the knowledge of the spiritual. But on the other hand, it does not stop at the facts of the most practical everyday life. For this spiritual science, it is inconceivable that such a duality should exist in human consciousness as I have described for the modern merchant, for the modern astronomer, for the modern civil servant, who have their separate religious and aesthetic lives, far removed from everyday life, and also far removed from what everyday life is. This life, which develops as a spiritual life, appears to be very spiritual. In truth, however, it is alien to life. Therefore, it has also created a certain disbelief in life.

This is why it has never been possible for the broad masses of the people to develop a belief in this spiritual life, to look at this spiritual life as if something socially beneficial could come from it. Here serious and honest personalities have been at work. Those who are seriously concerned with social life look upon the spiritual life as utopian. Here Fourier and similar spirits have lived who have worked out such beautiful programs for themselves as to how they want to shape their lives. But from what kind of thinking, from what kind of soul-disposition have all these social and socialist ideas arisen? They have arisen out of a mental life which sets itself up as something alien to life, just as the religious life is to the merchant in his account book. It is natural that beautiful ideas, genuinely meant, well-meant ideas, can arise out of such a mental state, but not ideas that intervene in real practical life.

Spiritual science aims to reach the highest heights of the spirit. But by descending into the deepest inner being of the human being, where there are not thoughts that are alien to life, but thoughts that penetrate into the realities of the external world, these should be able, when they reach up to the highest spiritual heights on the one hand, to grasp at the same time what we encounter in the account book in the relationship between employer and employee, what lives everywhere in direct life. The thoughts of that intellectual life that has dominated human souls in the last three to four centuries were weak and impotent; for these thoughts were beautiful aesthetic, religious, scientific and secular thoughts, but they were not thoughts that reached down into reality and

Take something that works like a modern moral code, let's say, like an ethic. You see what it says about humanity, goodness, benevolence, charity, human brotherhood. This is foreign to life, it does not intervenes in this immediate life, any more than modern philosophy, which lives in abstract ideas, does so, nor does modern spiritual life in general.

Only spiritual science can actually reach down into what philosophy, what real, external real science, brings to light. Read about this subject in my numerous books. You will find that spiritual science has nothing to do with those abstractions, with what is handed down today as a philosophical worldview and the like, but you will see that this spiritual science relies on really delving into the spirit in which the human being his soul lives, in order to gain real insights into the human being; because the human being is most spiritual, a knowledge can be established that ascends to the highest level of the spirit and at the same time descends into the directly practical life. For if one only penetrates deeply enough into the knowledge, this life in knowledge proves to be a unity, not a duality.

This spiritual life will also be able to penetrate into the life that we call social. The abstract intellectualism and scientific method that the modern proletarian perceives as ideology is incapable of penetrating into the real social structure of life. Their thoughts and ideas are too weak to penetrate and descend; they are abstractions and remain in the unreal realm of thought. They are truly ideologies. But the spirit need not stop at ideology. The spirit can penetrate so deeply into ideas that these ideas are at the same time forces contained in reality. With such ideas alone is it possible to delve into social life.

But for that a certain social structure is necessary. And this social structure I have tried to indicate, to sketch out at least, in my “Gist of the Social Question.” I have tried to show how it is necessary that the administration of spiritual life should be separated from economic life and from the life of the state, to which the administration of justice must be left; from everything political and economic the spiritual must be separated. As long as economic life develops out of spiritual life, in that the economically powerful are also best able to advance with regard to their spiritual education, as long as there is any connection at all, an inner connection between spiritual life and economic life, it is impossible for spiritual life to develop completely freely.

But anyone who is familiar with the spiritual life I have just spoken of knows that it can only develop on completely free soil. For the spiritual life of which I have spoken is a product of the human soul. This human soul must be cultivated in complete freedom. Schools and education must be administered independently in their own administration, independently of economic life and of the rest of state life, of political and legal life.

It is quite a different matter when the teacher of the lowest school class does not have to conform to what is supplied to him by economic life, does not have to be guided by the demands that a state makes in order to fill its positions; but when it follows what is taking place in the spiritual life, in the most important part, in the educational and teaching system, when it follows purely from what people should experience in the spiritual realm. If I were to characterize it in concrete terms, I would have to say: in the future, the entire spiritual life, including the life of teaching and schooling, must be shaped in such a way that those who teach and educate, from the lowest to the highest levels, are only so burdened with teaching and education that they still have the possibility of administering this spiritual life in which they work and in which they are active. Spiritual life forms an independent link in the social organism. It is self-governing and placed in its own administration.

If this is the case, then one will not experience what comes so strongly before the soul's eye when one is in the following situation. We have tried to establish a school in Stuttgart that is at least so shaped in its inner spiritual constitution that it is taken from the spirit just characterized. First of all, the teachers were prepared in such a way that they could at least work in the spirit of a completely free spiritual life. This was the starting point, because many paths are blocked today and because what is meant here is truly meant in a very practical way and is only really understood when it is approached with an instinct for practical life, not with some kind of theoretical ideas and the like. It is an eight-class elementary school that, in a free educational setting, is intended to achieve the same in terms of teaching as ordinary elementary schools and as ordinary secondary modern schools and grammar schools do for boys and girls up to the age of fourteen or fifteen, but which at the same time at the same time develop human individuality in a completely free way, so that individuality is placed in social life and will shape it, in which social life, from its economic and state points of view, does not provide the templates according to which individualities must develop. But then you see that you get your hands on the decrees on how teaching should be carried out from class to class, and today the decrees already contain prescriptions as to what should be done. But for those who can think straight and look at life independently, it seems the only possibility that what underlies education, the teaching system, and what determines what happens day after day, hour after hour in school, is that the decisive factor is not some kind of democratic will - that would be tantamount to pedagogical short-sightedness - but the specialized and factual knowledge of those who work from within the spiritual life itself and are also able to administer the spiritual.

These things must be approached practically. Only in this way can much of what is called practical today, and which cannot be imagined in any other way, be transformed into something other than what it has become for today. Only in this way can we look at it with complete impartiality and see it as it should be, and then follow the real inner laws of human development.

The other thing that must be added to this free spiritual life, which has its own administration - I can only sketch this today - is the independent constitutional state, the independent state political element, which, on the one hand, has separated out the independence of all spiritual life, but on the other hand, has also separated out economic life. In the last few centuries, there has only really been a legal life to the extent that this legal life has developed out of the economic life. And this was most clearly evident in those states that were drawn into this terrible war by their state economies. It became most evident that their entire political constitution was a consequence of their economic life, that, so to speak, the state was also an economic community to such a high degree. It would be an act of supreme folly to develop a large cooperative out of the state, according to the Marxist program, where the means of production would be administered and worked in common. Nothing new would be created; only that which has already caused great damage would be exaggerated to an enormous extent. But in an independent legal life, legal creation can only arise from an independent sense of right and wrong. That is to say, an independent state or legal element of the social organism must develop alongside economic life. This link will embrace everything in which all mature people have become capable of judgment.

One will never be able to administer intellectual life democratically; intellectual life must be administered by individuals with expert knowledge and expertise. But that which economic life is as such cannot be administered democratically either. It must be administered in such a way that what corresponds to the economic sphere is the underlying basis. This economic life must be administered in such a way that the person who manages in a particular sphere is spiritually mature and firmly grounded in that economic sphere. This sense of belonging, of being grounded, of being firmly grounded, of being able to act independently within an economic area, is undermined when decisions about how work should be organized in individual companies, what should be produced in individual companies, and so on, are made in a democratic way.

If the forces that are there are to be made fruitful for the social community, this can only be achieved if the individual representative, on the basis of their expertise and professional ability, stands in their rightful position and produces for the community what they can produce according to their abilities. But there still remains that over which he is not the sole arbiter, but over which every mature person who represents the democratic element has the ability to judge, whereby every person is equal, stands equally, and in which every person should develop a relationship from person to person.

On socialist soil, the following is constantly emphasized today: the worker is separated from the product of his labor, he works for the product, which he hardly gets to know, or only gets to know part of it. That is certainly all true. The product goes to the market, he is separated from it, he is separated from his field of labor, he simply performs his work, his human labor, on something he does not even know. But this is only the case as long as we do not have an independent link, an independent life, alongside the economic life in which the individual is involved, where one develops from person to person because one is the same as another person. This independent life, in which decisions are made only on the basis of what is right, this actual political life, is the content of state life. This is where democracy can truly develop. But it must be cultivated in the concrete. You cannot say: those who have excelled in a particular area of economic life will also excel in the field of law, so that this field of law can best be cultivated by them. No, that is not the case, because a person can only cultivate and develop judgment in that which actually develops in life. The life of the law must not be linked in a chaotic way with economic life, but the life of the law must stand alongside economic life. And the human being must enter into a relationship, a concrete relationship on the basis of the law, with the other human being. Interests must develop in him for the other people with whom he lives together in economic life, when economic life develops needs that have to be satisfied. On the basis of the law, every person will know: you are a member of the rest of humanity, you take part in something that determines your relationship and no other thing your relationship among others. You stand in all of humanity, you now learn to recognize yourself as a member of the state built on the equality of people, on democracy. This state becomes a reality for you. Because it becomes a reality by dealing with your labor law before all things. Labor law will no longer be established in economic life; the worker will no longer be dependent on the economic power of the person with whom he can work and undertake work together, but rather what applies is that in which every person is equal. In the separate legal sphere, it will be necessary to decide what makes every person equal. And other relationships will have to be regulated in the corresponding sphere. Today I can only characterize all this in very general terms; you will find more details in my “Key Points of the Social Question”.

Then there remains economic life, the actual, unified economic life. And then, in this economic life, we will not have what is in it today, but we will have associations in this economic life that are formed from consumers and producers together. And these associations will have to deal with matters closely connected with the ascertainment of economic needs, with the determination of prices, the value of goods, with everything that depends only on the human labor that goes into the goods. Economic life will not have to decide on the raising of human labor; the legal life decides on that. In the sphere of economic life, the corporations will have to deal only with fair prices. Such that, based on real expertise and professional skill, such prices will result from being in the economic life that the individual actually receives on average, for what he contributes, so many corresponding goods that serve his needs, until he has produced something has produced the same as that which he exchanges.

I will soon arrive at the primal cell of economic life; when it is presented as I must now present it, it looks somewhat paradoxical, yet in the last analysis everything is based on it. Above all, it is the basis for the emergence of fair prices; for it is not through some kind of joint administration, not through some kind of transfer of the areas into the administration of the whole, or into the ownership of the whole, that social balance can be achieved , but only through the value of the goods, which is determined not by the accident of the market, but by the value of the goods, which is determined by human reason, so that it flows from the actual management of economic life as such.

To put it dryly and paradoxically, and actually trivially: if I have made a pair of boots today, then in the social organism this pair of boots must be worth so much that I can exchange goods for it until I have again fabricated a pair of boots, including everything that has to be provided for the unemployed, the sick, the disabled, and so on. This is the original cell of economic life.

This can actually be achieved if economic life is completely detached from the other two elements of social life: from independent spiritual life and independent legal life

As I said, I could only sketch these things for you, but they have been developed from a real life practice, from a conception of life as it is, as it wants to shape itself. That was also the reason why I said to many a person during the raging of that terrible world war: The only way to cope with this raging is through ideas that have grown on spiritual soil. You have the choice, I said to many, either to speak now of such ideas to humanity that this humanity can take as a starting point for a real improvement on earth, or you will experience social cataclysms and revolutions.

People did not agree to accept reason. So the revolution came. But these revolutions have their peculiarities. Revolutions have been taking place in the world since the emergence of Christianity. What kind of revolution was that? It was a spiritual revolution. What was transformed was the conditions in spiritual life. What can truly arise in humanity in this way, through a metamorphosis in development, can only be spiritual impulses in the first instance.

The Christian revolution was a spiritual one. And the legal and economic life that it brought in its wake was a consequence of the spiritual revolution that took place through Christianity. That is why it was a great upheaval, and anyone who is familiar with the development of Christianity knows how profoundly Christianity has affected the world as a spiritual upheaval.

But if we now consider a revolution in legal and political relations, We find such upheavals in the French Revolution or in the continental revolution of 1848. Study these revolutions and you will find that They have achieved something, they have replaced something of the old order; but much has been left behind that was not at all a solution to previously raised demands, but a solution to previously raised demands, leftovers that were left behind by these political revolutions, by the three elements of human life. One can trace them, the upheavals in the spiritual realm, in the political-legal realm; an upheaval in the spiritual realm, that brought Christianity; an upheaval in the political-legal realm, the upheaval of the French Revolution and the revolution of 1848. Now they want an upheaval in the economic realm. Economic life cannot mechanize or transform itself out of itself. Those who are familiar with world-historical interrelations know that there can be intellectual revolutions because everything else in life can be fertilized by the spirit. But if the external itself, formed purely out of itself, is to be transformed, then this is an illusion. It is simply a law of world-historical development that where a purely economic revolution is to be carried out, as in present-day Russia, this economic revolution must be the gravedigger of modern civilization before it does not take up something truly spiritual.

It is true that Lenin and Trotsky are the last consistent educators of what has been living in the Darwinism of the masses for decades. But in trying to realize what could be developed in the ideas as mere economic ideas, and in what one could believe as long as it did not become practical, one becomes the gravedigger of civilization at the same moment as one wants to introduce it into life. And death could only spread in the European East under the influence of such ideas if it were not realized that we need something completely different in our time: a renewal of spiritual life.

That is what I wanted to emphasize particularly strongly today, that we need to develop a free spiritual life in an independent spiritual part of the social organism, which in turn is based on real spirit. From this spirit a real social future will arise. One must not hope for a new revolution. This new revolution should be an economic one. An economic revolution can only destroy, it cannot build up. Today the world is ripe for a new spirituality, so that it can be rebuilt.

That is what must be said by someone who does not base their views on party demands or party programs, but who looks at life impartially and honestly, and is serious and sincere about what is usually, but poorly understood, called the social question. This is what must be done first in the course of human development: to spread enlightenment about it, to educate the broad masses, on the part of those who have been able to develop this enlightenment through their previous education, which they have inherited, to educate the broad masses about what is necessary. Otherwise, the broad masses know what they demand out of their passions, but they cannot see through what can really be demanded in the interest of humanity and in the interest of a social future.

What has been attempted in my “Key Points of the Social Question” does not follow some party line, it follows what has been attempted to be recognized from the world-historical development of humanity itself, what has been attempted to be recognized from the world-historical moment. Anyone who assumes a commonality of the means of production is already unaware of development. Because even if it were possible for the common ownership of the means of production to occur today, to be introduced today, which cannot be, because it is of course impossible, because it would destroy all initiative of the individual, but even if it were possible to assume the common ownership of the means of production, then the current generation would have these means of production at a certain age, and the next generation would not have them again until later. And the protest of the next generation would once again result in what is to be made good today.

Only a thought like this, which is taken from full reality, not from one-sided reality, only such a thought is really from the outset today. And the thought that I have presented to you about the threefold social organism also takes into account the development over time, not just the coexistence of people in space. This thought can therefore much more likely shape spiritual life in its most important parts, in its most essential areas, in the school and educational system, and also with regard to the social organism, so that it can supply the social organism with forces in an appropriate way. Today, the Socialist side keeps telling us: if we introduce a common distribution of the means of production, if we introduce compulsory labor and so on, then we will educate people through these social structures so that they will work by themselves and so on. Yes, that is to say, humanity will achieve nothing, it will achieve nothing, and will only be willing and eager to work if a spiritual life really kindles the individual abilities of the human being, as they can only be kindled if we educate the human being during his upbringing in such a way that we take full account of his individuality.

Just as in this field, so in all fields the social idea of the threefold social organism is that which most comprehensively underlies the practical; it can only underlie the practical because it is built on the ground of a real spiritual science, where not only nature must be recognized, but where man must be recognized, but thereby also man man into consciousness.

I would just like to emphasize in conclusion that what you can read in detail about capital formation, labor organization, economic organization and so on in the future, is explained in more detail in my “Key Points of the Social Question”, as already mentioned, is still a weak attempt today. It is only a weak attempt because it is not some kind of contrived program, but because it is derived from practical life. Those people who today say that they cannot understand what is written in the “Key Points of the Social Question” lack the instinct for reality that is necessary today if one is to really understand practical matters in their fundamentals. It is not merely a matter of professing one's faith in a sociological doctrine; it is a matter of professing one's faith in those doctrines that can be supported by an instinct for the things to be realized. In attempting to present such thoughts, one will not claim that they should be perfect from the outset. One will emphasize again and again that they are an attempt. And so everything that is presented on the basis of the threefold social order should be seen as an experiment. For what it should ultimately be will become clear as it is transformed and introduced into practice.

I have often said to people: It is possible that not a single one of the details that I have given will be carried out, but the ideas that I have put forward are conceived in such a way that they can be applied to reality at one of its many points of contact. If you take hold of it there, then something completely different may result, but you will really be working. That is what matters, not programs, not preconceived ideas, no matter how clever they are, not to work from them, no matter how old they are, but to work from the reality of practical life! But not working from the randomness of everyday life, but from the great, overarching ideas from which all great, including social, designs have actually emerged. I believe that everyone who talks about such questions in this way thinks that way. I would like to express how I mean it by means of a comparison. Recently, in a studio where they usually work only with three-dimensional objects, a chair model was developed. The idea was that this chair should, on the one hand, satisfy our sense of beauty, which we apply to the Dornach building; on the other hand, however, it should be as inexpensive as possible. The most economical price is necessary in addition to the appropriate design in the overall treatment. Now we had made a model. When we handed this model over to the worker, we said to ourselves: There is the model, but now the practical design begins, and possibly what comes out as a chair at the end will look quite different from the model. But what comes out will be practical because the model was thought of practically.

This is how I would like to see the matter of the 'key points of the social question' understood. Everything that you will find as suggestions for the social question, for example in “Social Future” here for Switzerland, this book and our other ideas are only meant to be a kind of model, so to speak; but it should be a practically conceived model. If you take up the work with this in mind, the result will be practice. Perhaps it will look quite different, but it will only be truly practical if it is approached on the basis of a practical impulse.

Such a threefold social organism could, I think, most easily - pardon me for saying all these things, especially for those who are not completely familiar with these things, but I would still like to express it - it could be realized particularly strongly here in this country, which is justly proud of its old democracy. Because the democratic element has been developed here, it is easiest to see here how the path should be found to replace the spiritual and economic life on both sides in a corresponding way. In a further development, the idea of threefold social order emerged. If one is serious about these ideas, then I believe that, especially if one lives in a democratic community, one will understand and find it easier to understand what can necessarily be done for the threefold social order. Otherwise, this threefold social order will be attacked from left and right, from all sides. And while it is precisely the intention to be serious and honest about the social question, it has come about that I, for example, am personally attacked in the most obscene way by the leaders of socialist parties of all shades. But the point at issue is precisely that three great ideas, which should only be meant seriously and honestly, have emerged in the development of humanity. One is that of liberalism, the other that of democracy, and the third is that of socialism. If one is sincere about these three ideas, one will not be able to mix all three up or have one eliminate the other. Rather, one will have to say: something must radiate from the independent intellectual life, flowing into capitalism and into the whole organism. That is the free human development, that is the liberal element. In the political state, in the legal life, something must live in which all people are equal. That is the democratic element. And in economic life, the fraternal element must prevail. That must provide the true basis for a social structure. That is what it is about. We should not fight one-sidedly against and also not represent one-sidedly that which has emerged beneficially in the course of the newer development of humanity as the consequence of liberalism, democracy, socialism; we should see how in the independent spiritual life, liberalism grows, illuminating all the rest of social life ; how in the actual state under the rule of law democracy is growing, again overshadowing all other areas of life; how in that economic life, which is concerned only with the production, circulation, and consumption of goods and the determination of fair prices, socialism is again prevailing, permeating everything. Then, when one sees through this, one will correctly penetrate one's view of life today with the realization that complete errors in external life are less harmful because they can be more easily seen through than half or quarter truths.

But what exists today in many people as a social movement is flooded with quarter and third truths. And by adhering to a partial truth, people believe that they have grasped life in its entirety. But one should only want to embrace life in its entirety with a living interaction of truths. The whole full truth cannot be revealed in an abstract idea or in an abstract reality. It can only be grasped in the living interaction of ideas. Then, from half-truths and quarter-truths, the whole truth of life will be able to emerge, including in the social sphere, and the necessary social order will be established. And it will be recognized that it is less necessary to fight against complete errors than to correct half-truths and quarter-truths.

This is what I wanted to emphasize today with regard to the ideas of the necessities of life in the social question in the present of humanity and its immediate future.

Dr. Dr. Roman Boos points out that here in Switzerland, too, the danger is enormous in the economic field, and that we should therefore be able to extract something creative, which will be absolutely necessary, and that what Dr. Steiner could only hint at in his remarks today must be fully understood. (No discussion seems to have taken place.)

Rudolf Steiner: Regarding the closing remarks, I will be able to be very brief. I would like to emphasize that someone might say that in this lecture a great deal has been said about every link of the social organism: the spiritual, the legal and the economic life. But all this is not at all what matters to a large proportion of those who speak of the social question today , but that the social question is above all an economic question.

Now consider the whole attitude of both the lecture and what is meant by the impulse for the threefold order of the social organism. You can see this at least to some extent from the lecture: it does not present a finished program, but rather it starts from the premise that the social organism itself, that is, human social life, should be structured in a certain way, structured in such a way that separate administrations exist for economic life , for democratic, political or legal life and an independent administration for spiritual life.

Now, of course, it is easy to say: You are actually separating what must be a unity, the whole of human society, the human social organization into three areas. But it is precisely through the independent administration of the three areas that it becomes possible to achieve the proper unity of these areas. It is not a matter of renewing, as some have believed, what was demanded in the pre-Christian, in the Platonic world view, as the teaching, military and nutritional estates. No, in those days humanity as such was divided into three estates; so that one belonged to one, the other to the second, the third to the third estate. It is precisely this that is to be avoided, that people cannot be people as a whole, but are divided into estates. It is not humanity as such that is divided, but human life. And the person who is in life, in a certain way, stands on all three grounds: in the spiritual life, insofar as he has a living part in the spiritual life in one way or another; he stands in it in the legal life, in the entire legal issues, because he is a mature person in this part, either directly through some referendum or indirectly through representation and the like and he stands in that, in which he has credit through his person, or has factual and specialized knowledge in a certain economic area, in which he is incorporated through an association; the whole economic life is incorporated in itself.

And now it is precisely the various objections that have been raised that show how little the basic idea has been understood today. For example, a long review of this threefold social order appeared in a magazine, and it was said: Yes, he wants to replace the one parliament with three parliaments - a spiritual parliament, a legal parliament and an economic parliament. What matters, however, is that in a democratic parliament only that can be decided on which every human being has become capable of judging, which does not require any knowledge of the subject or field, and that precisely that should be eliminated which requires knowledge of the subject and field. Therefore, if there must be no parliament in the realm of intellectual life and in the realm of economic life, it is because the situation is precisely the opposite there. It is therefore a matter of honestly applying parliamentarianism by limiting it to the area in which it can truly flourish.

From this, however, it can be seen that the nerve has actually been little understood to date. But if one understands the nerve of the matter, then one will see how this idea is actually conceived out of the fundamentals. Anyone who believes that they can organize economic life, for example, according to a certain structure by means of some program, no matter how beautifully conceived, may think very cleverly of themselves, but they are not thinking from reality. But the person who says: Humanity must live in a social organism that is administered from three sides; then what is social structure will come. People will shape this through what they will experience through this threefolding of social life. That is what matters, not saying: Now there is a social question that needs to be solved. Today it cannot be solved, tomorrow it will be possible - one says it in one way, the other in another, but very many think that way.

No, he who believes that is thinking unrealistically. The point is this: the social question has come to the surface in humanity, and now a social structure must be brought about in such a way that this social question must be solved continuously. Today the conditions are there, today it will be solved one way or another, not tomorrow will it be solved. And if other questions arise tomorrow, the conditions for tomorrow will have to be solved again; then other things will arise again, and people must be included in the social structure. It will be an ongoing process. The solution is to be tackled anew from day to day. It is not the case that one can say, today it is there and will continue to be there, but one must ask: How must society be shaped so that what is shaped by society can be shaped in a social sense. Those who do not take human matters in this sense, who do not think in real terms, cannot see what is really going on.

Today people think they are thinking, but they think in a highly unrealistic way. For example, they think that social life will acquire a social structure through a certain reorganization of economic life. Well, that would be just as if one wanted to believe that the individual human organism acquires its structure from what it eats and drinks. No, the human organism has an inner lawfulness. It has such a lawfulness that it undergoes a very definite transformation at the age of changing teeth, and another transformation at the age of sexual maturity. The processes in the human organism come from transformations within the human organization; but ideas also arise in the course of historical development. Today this has reached a point where it is necessary to tackle the threefold social order!

Now, in conclusion, I just want to say the following to show you how things are meant. Those who really follow my writings know that when I experience something like this, I am not at all concerned with ridiculing anyone. I know best how worthy of consideration the simplest mind can be. But let us take the following example. In a discussion, I was replied to – actually, the replies are often where one believes today to be particularly revolutionary, according to a certain template, one does not need to go into the reply itself – but such a responder said something that did not directly have to do with the matter, he said: “Look here, esteemed attendees, we certainly do not want – he spoke from the standpoint of the most most radical orator of the Socialist Party – we certainly don't want, he said, to abolish intellectual labor, we want to keep it; because, you see, he said, I'm a cobbler, for example, I know very well that I can't do the work of a registrar; so we have to hire people who can take over this office once we have gained leadership. A glorious thought! The good man believed that he could not do the work of a registrar, but what he did believe was that he could be a minister who then determined the whole structure. That was a matter of course for him.

Such simple errors, in which one lives, are the essence of real life today, they are absolutely fundamental. These are things that show where approaches are that cannot lead to anything fruitful.

On the other hand, I had recently learned the following from a different angle. After writing an article that roundly condemned the entire threefold social order, an American came to me during one of my lectures a few weeks ago and said: I read this article; it is written in such a way that it insults everything. Yes, there must be something in it! And so I got hold of the matter, he said. You see, sometimes the abusive articles also have their good effects. The man was now, when he came to me, completely absorbed in the idea of threefolding. He said to me: Do you believe that with this idea of threefolding there will now be something that can apply to the whole of human future in the most absolute sense? I said, “No.” We have gone through a phase of historical development which has led to the fact that we have concluded everything in this unitary state. In this unitary state, we have concluded, let us say in Austria, economic life, legal life, spiritual life, namely in the form of cultural life. I have often spoken about this. In the 20th century, nothing else was possible than what led to the annexation of Bosnia and Herzegovina, which was the subject of the negotiations. What emerged from that was linked to the construction of the Thessaloniki railway, which was a purely economic matter. And out of that arose a chaotic mixture, to which was added a purely spiritual element, namely the antagonism between the Slavs and the Magyars. And out of the terrible tangle of nations in the East, something was brewing from the three areas being mixed together. But they were so constituted that they were drawn to the unified state. Now it is ripe to disintegrate into the three elements. And in turn, a completely different necessity will arise in a relatively not too distant time. Life is vibrant, it is not something closed. We want something that applies forever and everywhere!

The inconvenience of such ideas is that they cannot be conceived out of abstract ideas, like programs; you introduce the programs and then that's it. No, it is not like that; but such ideas, spiritual ideas, take into account the spiritual life, the legal life and the economic life in the threefold social organism. And therefore they can only ever find that which is valid for a particular epoch. And they are aware that, in turn, this must be replaced by something else in a certain period of time. They also take evolution seriously by seeking in evolution what they themselves can find for their age.

So, I just wanted to show a practical result in this sense and say that it is not about something something absolute, as in other contemporary programs, but something that is thought out of the present in the most eminent sense.

Thus, that which wants to enter the world today is judged in the most diverse ways. It may meet with the most diverse judgments, if only these judgments, this judging, finally comes to the point of studying things in a way that is full of life. What matters in such matters is not that what is indicated on one side or another is pedantically carried out, but rather that reality is grasped in a practical way. In such a case no stone may be left unturned in the details, but out of such a life-filled approach that which can serve the common good will be effective and will come into being.

In this sense, these things are meant to be said out of reality for reality. The threefold social order is not meant to be a one-sided political development, nor is it meant to be a one-sided development at all. And so it should be taken up without any emotional attitude.

On the other hand, it should be viewed in such a way that it is understood without prejudice, as it is meant without prejudice. From many sides today we hear: Yes, this threefold social order would be all very well, but it must come into being at the very end; before that everything must go haywire, before that there must be dictatorship and so on. If one thinks in this way, then in reality one does not want the practical, but rather that which arises only from abstract demands, which arise directly only from this or that mood of the soul. In that case, one does not want the social threefolding as it is meant here, but rather one wants that which one has fallen in love with.

But if one seriously wants to achieve something in life, one must struggle to the point of view that sees through and overviews this life impartially.