| 26. The Life, Nature, and Cultivation of Anthroposophy: How the Leading Thoughts are to be used
16 Mar 1924, Tr. George Adams Rudolf Steiner |
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| Another point of view also comes into consideration. In spreading the contents of Anthroposophy, a strong sense of responsibility is necessary in the first place. That which is said about the spiritual world must be brought into a form such that the pictures of spiritual facts and beings which are given are not exposed to misunderstanding. |
| A person grows into the spiritual world with open eyes if he uses Anthroposophy in the manner we have described. Far too little attention is paid in the Anthroposophical Society to the fact that Anthroposophy should not be abstract theory but real life. |
| But it only becomes theory when it is made such—i.e. when one kills it. It is still not sufficiently realised that Anthroposophy is not only a conception of the world, different from others, but that it must also be received differently. |
| 26. The Life, Nature, and Cultivation of Anthroposophy: How the Leading Thoughts are to be used
16 Mar 1924, Tr. George Adams Rudolf Steiner |
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Those who want to take active part in the Movement may find in the Leading Thoughts that are issued from the Goetheanum, an impulse and stimulus that shall enable them to bring unity and wholeness into all anthroposophical activity. They will find in them, as they receive them week by week, guidance for deepening their understanding of the material that is already at hand in the lecture-cycles and for putting it forward in the Group Meetings with a certain order and harmony. It would without doubt be more desirable for the lectures given in Dornach to be carried at once in all directions to the individual Groups. But one has to remember what complicated technical arrangements such a course would necessitate. The Executive at the Goetheanum are making every possible effort in this direction, and still more will be done in the future. But we must reckon with the possibilities that exist. The aims that found expression at the Christmas Foundation Meeting will be realised. But we need time. For the present those Groups that have members who visit the Goetheanum, hear the lectures there and can bring back the substance of them into the Group Meetings have an advantage. And Groups should recognise that the sending of members to the Goetheanum in this way is a good thing to do. On the other hand, however, the work that has already been achieved within the Anthroposophical Society and that is embodied in the printed lecture-cycles and single lectures should not be undervalued. If you take up these lecture-cycles and call to mind from the titles what is contained in this one and in that, and then turn to the Leading Thoughts, you will find that you meet with one thing in one lecture-cycle, another in another, that explains the Leading Thoughts more fully. By reading together passages that are found separated in different lecture-cycles, you will discover the right points of view for expounding and elaborating the Leading Thoughts. We in the Anthroposophical Society are wasting opportunities all the time if we leave the printed lecture-cycles quite untouched and only want always to hear ‘the latest’ from the Goetheanum. And it will readily be understood that all possibility of printing the lecture-cycles would gradually cease if they were not widely made use of. Another point of view also comes into consideration. In spreading the contents of Anthroposophy, a strong sense of responsibility is necessary in the first place. That which is said about the spiritual world must be brought into a form such that the pictures of spiritual facts and beings which are given are not exposed to misunderstanding. Anyone who hears a lecture at the Goetheanum will receive an immediate and direct impression. If he repeats the contents of what he heard, this impression can echo from him; and he is able so to formulate them that they can be rightly understood. But if they are repeated at second or third hand, the possibility of inaccuracies creeping in becomes greater and greater. All these things should be borne in mind. The following point of view is, however, probably the most important. The point is not that Anthroposophy should be simply listened to or read, but that it should be received into the living soul. It is essential that what has been received should be worked upon in thought and carried into the feelings; and the Leading Thoughts are really intended to suggest this with regard to the lecture-cycles already printed and in circulation. If this point of view is not sufficiently considered, then the nature of Anthroposophy will be constantly hindered from manifesting itself through the Anthroposophical Society. People say, though only with apparent justice: ‘What use is it to me to hear all these things about the spiritual worlds if I cannot look into those worlds for myself?’ One who speaks thus does not realise that such vision is promoted when the working out of anthroposophical ideas is thought of in the manner indicated above. The lectures at the Goetheanum are so given that their contents can live on and work freely in the minds of the hearers. The same applies also to the contents of the lecture-cycles. These do not contain dead material to be imparted externally, but material which, when viewed from different aspects, stimulates the vision for spiritual worlds. It should not be thought that one hears the contents of the lectures and that the knowledge of the spiritual world is acquired separately by means of meditation. In that way one will never make real progress. Both must act together in the soul. And to think out anthroposophical ideas and allow them to live on in the feelings is also an exercise of the soul. A person grows into the spiritual world with open eyes if he uses Anthroposophy in the manner we have described. Far too little attention is paid in the Anthroposophical Society to the fact that Anthroposophy should not be abstract theory but real life. Real life, that is its nature; and if it is made into abstract theory this is often not at all a better but a worse theory than others. But it only becomes theory when it is made such—i.e. when one kills it. It is still not sufficiently realised that Anthroposophy is not only a conception of the world, different from others, but that it must also be received differently. Its nature is recognised and experienced only when one receives it in this different way. The Goetheanum should be looked upon as the necessary centre of anthroposophical work and activity, but one ought not to lose sight of the fact that the anthroposophical material which has been worked out should also be made use of in the Groups. What is worked out at the Goetheanum can be obtained gradually by the whole Anthroposophical Society in a full and living sense, when as many members as possible come from the Groups to the Goetheanum itself and participate as much as possible in its activities. But all this must be worked out with heart and mind; the mere imparting of the contents of the lectures each week is useless. The Executive at the Goetheanum will need time and will have to meet with sympathetic understanding on the part of the members. It will then be able to work in accordance with the intention of the Christmas Foundation Meeting. |
| 26. The Life, Nature, and Cultivation of Anthroposophy: Introduction
George Adams |
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| 26. The Life, Nature, and Cultivation of Anthroposophy: Introduction
George Adams |
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From the time of the Foundation Meeting of the General Anthroposophical Society (Dornach, Christmas to New Year, 1923–24) until his death shortly before Easter, 1925, Rudolf Steiner wrote a Letter week by week, addressed to the members of the Society. The Letters were printed in the members' supplement to the Goetheanum Weekly and in the English edition of it, Anthroposophical Movement. The later Letters (forming a self-contained series from autumn 1924 onward) were published in book form in 1956, entitled The Michael Mystery (Vol. II of Letters to Members). An urgent need has been felt for the earlier Letters in which Rudolf Steiner describes the character of the Society arising out of the Foundation Meeting and gives advice as to its conduct and its relation to the world. To meet this need, the Rudolf Steiner-Nachlassverwaltung has issued these Letters in a separate volume entitled Das lebendige Wesen der Anthroposophie und seine Pflege: Briefe an die Mitglieder, and has given the Council of the Anthroposophical Society in Great Britain permission to publish the translation contained in the following pages (Vol. I of Letters to Members). RUDOLF STEINER HOUSE |
| 34. The Education of the Child in the Light of Anthroposophy
Tr. George Adams, Mary Adams Rudolf Steiner |
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| Whether what is often called so is justified in making such a claim, is not the point; it is the real essence of Anthroposophy—and what, by virtue of its real essence, Anthroposophy can be—that here concerns us. For Anthroposophy is not intended as a theory remote from life, one that merely caters for man's curiosity or thirst for knowledge. |
| This is not the method of genuine spiritual investigation which Anthroposophy adopts and from the results of which it makes its statements. It cannot often enough be emphasized how great is the difference, in this respect, between Anthroposophy and the current science of to-day. |
| If the knowledge of Anthroposophy were applied in practical spheres like education, the idle talk that this knowledge has first to be proved would quickly disappear. |
| 34. The Education of the Child in the Light of Anthroposophy
Tr. George Adams, Mary Adams Rudolf Steiner |
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| [ 1 ] Much that the man of to-day 0 inherits from generations of the past is called in question by his present life. Hence the numerous ‘problems of the hour’ and ‘demands of the age.’ How many of these are occupying the attention of the world—the Social Question, the Women's Question, the various educational questions, hygienic questions, questions of human rights, and so forth! By the most varied means, men are endeavouring to grapple with these problems. The number of those who come on the scene with this or that remedy or programme for the solution—or at any rate for the partial solution—of one or other of them, is indeed past counting. In the process, all manner of opinions and shades of opinion make themselves felt—Radicalism, which carries itself with a revolutionary air; the Moderate attitude, full of respect for existing things, yet endeavouring to evolve out of them something new; Conservatism, which is up in arms whenever any of the old institutions are tampered with. Beside these main tendencies of thought and feeling there is every kind of intermediate position. [ 2 ] Looking at all these things of life with deeper vision, one cannot but feel—indeed the impression forces itself upon one—that the men of our age are in the position of trying to meet the demands involved in modern life with means which are utterly inadequate. Many are setting about to reform life, without really knowing life in its foundations. But he who would make proposals as to the future must not content himself with a knowledge of life that merely touches life's surface. He must investigate its depths. [ 3 ] Life in its entirety is like a plant. The plant contains not only what it offers to external life; it also holds a future state within its hidden depths. One who has before him a plant only just in leaf, knows very well that after some time there will be flowers and fruit also on the leaf-bearing stem. In its hidden depths the plant already contains the flowers and fruit in embryo; yet by mere investigation of what the plant now offers to external vision, how should one ever tell what these new organs will look like? This can only be told by one who has learnt to know the very nature and being of the plant. [ 4 ] So, too, the whole of human life contains within it the germs of its own future; but if we are to tell anything about this future, we must first penetrate into the hidden nature of the human being. And this our age is little inclined to do. It concerns itself with the things that appear on the surface, and thinks it is treading on unsafe ground if called upon to penetrate to what escapes external observation. In the case of the plant the matter is certainly more simple. We know that others like it have again and again borne fruit before. Human life is present only once; the flowers it will bear in the future have never yet been there. Yet they are present within man in the embryo, even as the flowers are present in a plant that is still only in leaf. [ 5 ] And there is a possibility of saying something about man's future, if once we penetrate beneath the surface of human nature to its real essence and being. It is only when fertilized by this deep penetration into human life, that the various ideas of reform current in the present age can become fruitful and practical. [ 6 ] Anthroposophy, by its inherent character and tendency, must have the task of providing a practical conception of the world—one that comprehends the nature and essence of human life. Whether what is often called so is justified in making such a claim, is not the point; it is the real essence of Anthroposophy—and what, by virtue of its real essence, Anthroposophy can be—that here concerns us. For Anthroposophy is not intended as a theory remote from life, one that merely caters for man's curiosity or thirst for knowledge. Nor is it intended as an instrument for a few people, who for selfish reasons would like to attain a higher level of development for themselves. No, it can join and work at the most important tasks of present-day humanity, and further their development for the welfare of mankind.1 [ 7 ] It is true that in taking on this mission, Anthroposophy must be prepared to face all kinds of scepticism and opposition. Radicals, Moderates and Conservatives in every sphere of life will be bound to meet it with scepticism. For in its beginnings it will scarcely be in a position to please any party. Its premises lie far beyond the sphere of party movements, [ 8 ] being founded, in effect, purely and solely on a true knowledge and perception of life. If a man has knowledge of life, it is only out of life itself that he will be able to set himself his tasks. He will draw up no arbitrary programmes, for he will know that no other fundamental laws of life can prevail in the future than those that prevail already in the present. The spiritual investigator will therefore of necessity respect existing things. However great the need for improvement he may find in them, he will not fail to see, in existing things themselves, the embryo of the future. At the same time, he knows that in all things ‘becoming’ there must be growth and evolution. Hence he will perceive in the present the seeds of transformation and of growth. He invents no programmes; he reads them out of what is there. What he thus reads becomes in a certain sense itself a programme, for it bears in it the essence of development. [ 9 ] For this very reason an anthroposophical insight into the being of man must provide the most fruitful and the most practical means for the solution of the urgent questions of modern life. [ 10 ] In the following pages we shall endeavour to prove this for one particular question—the question of Education. We shall not set up demands nor programmes, but simply describe the child-nature. From the nature of the growing and evolving human being, the proper point of view for Education will, as it were, spontaneously result. [ 11 ] If we wish to perceive the nature of the evolving man, we must begin by considering the hidden nature of man as such. [ 12 ] What sense-observation learns to know in man, and what the materialistic conception of life would consider as the one and only element in man's being, is for spiritual investigation only one part, one member of his nature: it is his Physical Body. This physical body of man is subject to the same laws of physical existence, and is built up of the same substances and forces, as the whole of that world which is commonly called lifeless. Anthroposophical Science says, therefore: man has a physical body in common with the whole of the mineral kingdom. And it designates as the ‘Physical Body’ that alone in man, which brings the substances into mixture, combination, form, and dissolution by the same laws as are at work in the same substances in the mineral world as well. [ 13 ] Now over and above the physical body, Anthroposophical Science recognizes a second essential principle in man. It is his Life-Body or Etheric Body. The physicist need not take offence at the term ‘Etheric Body.’ The word ‘Ether’ in this connection does not mean the same as the hypothetical Ether of Physics. It must be taken simply as a designation of what will here and now be described. [ 14 ] In recent times it was considered a highly unscientific proceeding to speak of such an ‘Etheric Body’; though this had not been so at the end of the eighteenth and in the first half of the nineteenth century. In that earlier time people had said to themselves: the substances and forces which are at work in a mineral cannot of their own accord form the mineral into a living creature. In the latter there must also be inherent a peculiar ‘force.’ This force they called the ‘Vital Force,’ and they thought of it somewhat as follows: the Vital Force is working in the plant, in the animal, in the human body, and produces the phenomena of life, just as the magnetic force is present in the magnet producing the phenomena of attraction. In the succeeding period of materialism, this idea was set aside. People began to say: the living creature is built up in the same way as the lifeless creation. There are no other forces at work in the living organism than in the mineral; the same forces are only working in a more complicated way, and building a more complex structure. To-day, however, it is only the most rigid materialists who hold fast to this denial of a life-force or vital force. There are a number of natural scientists and thinkers whom the facts of life have taught, that something like a vital force or life-principle must be assumed. [ 15 ] Thus modern science, in its later developments, is in a certain sense approaching what Anthroposophical Science has to say about the life-body. There is, however, a very important difference. From the facts of sense-perception, modern science arrives, through intellectual considerations or reflections, at the assumption of a kind of vital force. This is not the method of genuine spiritual investigation which Anthroposophy adopts and from the results of which it makes its statements. It cannot often enough be emphasized how great is the difference, in this respect, between Anthroposophy and the current science of to-day. For the latter regards the experiences of the senses as the foundation for all knowledge. Anything that cannot be built up on this foundation, it takes to be unknowable. From the impressions of the senses it draws deductions and conclusions. What goes on beyond them it rejects, as lying ‘beyond the frontiers of human knowledge.’ From the standpoint of Anthroposophical Science, such a view is like that of a blind man, who only admits as valid things that can be touched and conclusions that result by deduction from the world of touch—a blind man who rejects the statements of seeing people as lying outside the possibility of human knowledge. Anthroposophy shows man to be capable of evolution, capable of bringing new worlds within his sphere by the development of new organs of perception. Colour and light are all around the blind man. If he cannot see them, it is only because he lacks the organs of perception. In like manner Anthroposophy asserts: there are many worlds around man, and man can perceive them if only he develops the necessary organs. As the blind man who has undergone a successful operation looks out upon a new world, so by the development of higher organs man can come to know new worlds—worlds altogether different from those which his ordinary senses allow him to perceive. Now whether one who is blind in body can be operated on or not, depends on the constitution of his organs. But the higher organs whereby man can penetrate into the higher worlds, are present in embryo in every human being. Everyone can develop them who has the patience, endurance, and energy to apply in his own case the methods described in the volume, ‘Knowledge of Higher Worlds and its Attainment.’ Anthroposophical Science, then, would never say that there are definite frontiers to human knowledge. What it would rather say is that for man those worlds exist, for which he has the organs of perception. Thus Anthroposophy speaks only of the methods whereby existing frontiers may be extended; and this is its position with regard to the investigation of the life-body or etheric body, and of all that is specified in the following pages as the yet higher members of man's nature. Anthroposophy admits that the physical body alone is accessible to investigation through the bodily senses, and that—from the point of view of this kind of investigation—it will at most be possible by intellectual deductions to surmise the existence of a higher body. At the same time, it tells how it is possible to open up a world wherein these higher members of man's nature emerge for the observer, as the colour and the light of things emerge after operation in the case of a man born blind. For those who have developed the higher organs of perception, the etheric or life-body is an object of perception and not merely of intellectual deduction. Man has this etheric or life-body in common with the plants and animals. The life-body works in a formative way upon the substances and forces of the physical body, thus bringing about the phenomena of growth, reproduction, and inner movement of the saps and fluids. It is therefore the builder and moulder of the physical body, its inhabitant and architect. The physical body may even be spoken of as an image or expression of the life-body. In man the two are nearly, though by no means wholly, equal as to form and size. In the animals, however, and still more so in the plants, the etheric body is very different, both in form and in extension, from the physical. [ 16 ] The third member of the human body is what is called the Sentient or Astral Body. It is the vehicle of pain and pleasure, of impulse, craving, passion, and the like—all of which are absent in a creature consisting only of physical and etheric bodies. These things may all be included in the term: sentient feeling or sensation. The plant has no sensation. If in our time some learned men, seeing that plants will respond by movement or in some other way to external stimulus, conclude that plants have a certain power of sensation, they only show their ignorance of what sensation is. The point is not whether the creature responds to an external stimulus, but whether the stimulus is reflected in an inner process—as pain or pleasure, impulse, desire, or the like. Unless we held fast to this criterion, we should be justified in saying that blue litmus-paper has a sensation of certain substances, because it turns red by contact with them.2 [ 17 ] Man has therefore a sentient body in common with the animal kingdom only, and this sentient body is the vehicle of sensation or of sentient life. [ 18 ] We must not fall into the error of certain theosophical circles, and imagine the etheric and sentient bodies as consisting simply of finer substances than are present in the physical body. For that would be a materialistic conception of these higher members of man's nature. The etheric body is a force-form; it consists of active forces, and not of matter. The astral or sentient body is a figure of inwardly moving, coloured, luminous pictures. [ 19 ] The astral body deviates, both in shape and size, from the physical body. In man it presents an elongated ovoid form, within which the physical and etheric bodies are embedded. It projects beyond them—a vivid, luminous figure—on every side.4 [ 20 ] Now man possesses a fourth member of his being; and this fourth member he shares with no other earthly creature. It is the vehicle of the human ‘ I ,’ of the human Ego. The little word ‘ I ’—as used, for example, in the English language—is a name essentially different from all other names. To anyone who ponders rightly on the nature of this name, there is opened up at once a way of approach to a perception of man's real nature. All other names can be applied, by all men equally, to the thing they designate. Everyone can call a table ‘table,’ and everyone can call a chair ‘chair’; but it is not so with the name ‘ I .’ No one can use this name to designate another. Each human being can only call himself ‘ I ’; the name ‘ I ’ can never reach my ear as a designation of myself. In designating himself as ‘ I ,’ man has to name himself within himself. A being who can say ‘ I ’ to himself is a world in himself. Those religions which are founded on spiritual knowledge have always had a feeling for this truth. Hence they have said: With the ‘ I ,’ the ‘God’—who in the lower creatures reveals himself only from without, in the phenomena of the surrounding world—begins to speak from within. The vehicle of this faculty of saying ‘ I ,’ of the Ego-faculty, is the ‘Body of the Ego,’ the fourth member of the human being.5 [ 21 ] This ‘Body of the Ego’ is the vehicle of the higher soul of man. Through it man is the crown of all earthly creation. Now in the human being of the present day the Ego is by no means simple in character. We may recognize its nature if we compare human beings at different stages of development. Look at the uneducated savage beside the average European, or again, compare the latter with a lofty idealist. Each one of them has the faculty of saying ‘ I ’ to himself; the ‘Body of the Ego’ is present in them all. But the uneducated savage, with his Ego, follows his passions, impulses, and cravings almost like an animal. The more highly developed man says to himself, ‘Such and such impulses and desires you may follow,’ while others again he holds in check or suppresses altogether. The idealist has developed new impulses and new desires in addition to those originally present. All this has taken place through the Ego working upon the other members of the human being. Indeed, it is this which constitutes the special task of the Ego. Working outward from itself, it has to ennoble and purify the other members of man's nature. [ 22 ] In the human being who has reached beyond the condition in which the external world first placed him, the lower members have become changed to a greater or lesser degree under the influence of the ‘Ego.’ When man is only beginning to rise above the animal, when his ‘Ego’ is only just kindled, he is still like an animal so far as the lower members of his being are concerned. His etheric or life-body is simply the vehicle of the formative forces of life, the forces of growth and reproduction. His sentient body gives expression to those impulses, desires, and passions only, which are stimulated by external nature. As man works his way up from this stage of development, through successive lives or incarnations, to an ever higher evolution, his ‘Ego’ works upon the other members and transforms them. In this way his sentient body becomes the vehicle of purified sensations of pleasure and pain, refined wishes and desires. And the etheric or life-body also becomes transformed. It becomes the vehicle of the man's habits, of his more permanent bent or tendency in life, of his temperament and of his memory. A man whose Ego has not yet worked upon his life-body, has no memory of the experiences he goes through in life. He just lives out what Nature has implanted in him. [ 23 ] This is what the growth and development of civilization means for man. It is a continual working of his Ego upon the lower members of his nature. The work penetrates right down into the physical body. Under the influence of the Ego, the whole appearance and physiognomy, the gestures and movements of the physical body, are altered. It is possible, moreover, to distinguish the way in which the different means of culture or civilization work upon the several members of man's nature. The ordinary factors of civilization work upon the sentient body and imbue it with pleasures and pains, with impulses and cravings, of a different kind from what it had originally. Again, when the human being is absorbed in the contemplation of a great work of art, his etheric body is being influenced. Through the work of art he divines something higher and more noble than is offered by the ordinary environment of his senses, and in this process he is forming and transforming his life-body. Religion is a powerful means for the purification and ennobling of the etheric body. It is here that the religious impulses have their mighty purpose in the evolution of mankind. [ 25 ] What we call ‘conscience’ is nothing else than the outcome of the work of the Ego on the life-body through incarnation after incarnation. When man begins to perceive that he ought not to do this or that, and when this perception makes so strong an impression on him that the impression passes on into his etheric body, ‘conscience’ arises. [ 26 ] Now this work of the Ego upon the lower members may either be something that is proper to a whole race of men; or else it may be entirely individual, an achievement of the individual Ego working on itself alone. In the former case, the whole human race collaborates, as it were, in the transformation of the human being. The latter kind of transformation depends on the activity of the individual Ego alone and of itself. The Ego may become so strong as to transform, by its very own power and strength, the sentient body. What the Ego then makes of the Sentient or Astral Body is called ‘Spirit-Self’ (or by an Eastern expression, ‘Manas’). This transformation is wrought mainly through a process of learning, through an enriching of one's inner life with higher ideas and perceptions. Now the Ego can rise to a still higher task, and it is one that belongs quite essentially to its nature. This happens when not only is the astral body enriched, but the etheric or life-body transformed. A man learns many things in the course of his life; and if from some point he looks back on his past life, he may say to himself: ‘I have learned much.’ But in a far less degree will he be able to speak of a transformation in his temperament or character during life, or of an improvement or deterioration in his memory. Learning concerns the astral body, whereas the latter kinds of transformation concern the etheric or life-body. Hence it is by no means an unhappy image if we compare the change in the astral body during life with the course of the minute hand of a clock, and the transformation of the life-body with the course of the hour hand. [ 27 ] When man enters on a higher training—or, as it is called, occult training—it is above all important for him to undertake, out of the very own power of his Ego, this latter transformation. Individually and with full consciousness, he has to work out the transformation of his habits and his temperament, his character, his memory ... In so far as he thus works into his life-body, he transforms it into what is called in anthroposophical terminology, ‘Life-Spirit’ (or, as the Eastern expression has it, ‘Budhi’). [ 28 ] At a still higher stage man comes to acquire forces whereby he is able to work upon his physical body and transform it (transforming, for example, the circulation of the blood, the pulse). As much of the physical body as is thus transformed is ‘Spirit-Man’ (or, in the Eastern term, ‘Atma’). [ 29 ] Now as a member of the whole human species or of some section of it—for example, of a nation, tribe, or family—man also achieves certain transformations of the lower parts of his nature. In Anthroposophical Science the results of this latter kind of transformation are known by the following names. The astral or sentient body, transformed through the Ego, is called the Sentient Soul; the transformed etheric body is called the Intellectual Soul; and the transformed physical body the Spiritual Soul. We must not imagine the transformations of these three members taking place one after another in time. From the moment when the Ego lights up, all three bodies are undergoing transformation simultaneously. Indeed, the work of the Ego does not become clearly perceptible to man until a part of the Spiritual Soul has already been formed and developed. [ 30 ] From what has been said, it is clear that we may speak of four members of man's nature: the Physical Body, the Etheric or Life-Body, the Astral or Sentient Body, and the Body of the Ego. The Sentient Soul, the Intellectual Soul, and the Spiritual Soul, and beyond these the still higher members of man's nature—Spirit-Self, Life-Self, Spirit-Man—appear in connection with these four members as products of transformation. Speaking of the vehicles of the qualities of man, it is in fact the first four members only which come into account. [ 31 ] It is on these four members of the human being that the educator works. Hence, if we desire to work in the right way, we must investigate the nature of these parts of man. It must not be imagined that they develop uniformly in the human being, so that at any given point in his life—the moment of birth, for example—they are all equally far developed. This is not the case; their development takes place differently in the different ages of a man's life. The right foundation for education, and for teaching also, consists in a knowledge of these laws of development of human nature. [ 32 ] Before physical birth, the growing human being is surrounded on all sides by the physical body of another. He does not come into independent contact with the physical world. The physical body of his mother is his environment, and this body alone can work upon him as he grows and ripens. Physical birth indeed consists in this, that the physical mother-body, which has been as a protecting sheath, sets the human being free, thus enabling the environment of the physical world thenceforward to work upon him directly. His senses open to the external world, and the external world thereby gains that influence on the human being which was previously exercised by the physical envelope of the mother-body. [ 33 ] A spiritual understanding of the world, as represented by Anthroposophy, sees in this process the birth of the physical body, but not as yet of the etheric or life-body. Even as man is surrounded, until the moment of birth, by the physical envelope of the mother-body, so until the time of the change of teeth—until about the seventh year—he is surrounded by an etheric envelope and by an astral envelope. It is only during the change of teeth that the etheric envelope liberates the etheric body. And an astral envelope remains until the time of puberty, when the astral or sentient body also becomes free on all sides, even as the physical body became free at physical birth and the etheric body at the change of teeth.6 [ 33 ] Thus, Anthroposophical Science has to speak of three births of the human being. Until the change of teeth, certain impressions intended for the etheric body can as little reach it as the light and air of the physical world can reach the physical body so long as this latter is resting in the mother's womb. [ 34 ] Before the change of teeth takes place, the free life-body is not yet at work in man. As in the body of the mother the physical body receives forces which are not its own, while at the same time it gradually develops its own forces within the protecting sheath of the mother's womb, [ 35 ] so it is with the forces of growth until the change of teeth. During this first period the etheric body is only developing and moulding its own forces, con jointly with those—not its own—which it has inherited. Now while the etheric body is thus working its way into liberation, the physical body is already independent. The etheric body, as it liberates itself, develops and works out what it has to give to the physical body. The ‘second teeth,’ i.e. the human being's own teeth, taking the place of those which he inherited, represent the culmination of this work. They are the densest things embedded in the physical body, and hence they appear last, at the end of this period. [ 36 ] From this point onward, the growth of man's physical body is brought about by his own etheric body alone. But this etheric body is still under the influence of an astral body which has not yet escaped from its protecting sheath. At the moment when the astral body too becomes free, the etheric body concludes another period of its development; and this conclusion finds expression in puberty. The organs of reproduction become independent because from this time onward the astral body is free, no longer working inwards, but openly and without integument meeting the external world. [ 37 ] Now just as the physical influences of the external world cannot be brought to bear on the yet unborn child—so until the change of teeth one should not bring to bear on the etheric body those forces which are, for it, what the impressions of the physical environment are for the physical body. And in the astral body the corresponding influences should not be given play until after puberty. [ 38 ] Vague and general phrases—‘the harmonious development of all the powers and talents in the child,’ and so forth—cannot provide the basis for a genuine art of education. Such an art of education can only be built up on a real knowledge of the human being. Not that these phrases are incorrect, but that at bottom they are as useless as it would be to say of a machine that all its parts must be brought harmoniously into action. To work a machine you must approach it, not with phrases and truisms, but with real and detailed knowledge. So for the art of education it is a knowledge of the members of man's being and of their several development which is important. We must know on what part of the human being we have especially to work at a certain age, and how we can work upon it in the proper way. There is of course no doubt that a truly realistic art of education, such as is here indicated, will only slowly make its way. This lies, indeed, in the whole mentality of our age, which will long continue to regard the facts of the spiritual world as the vapourings of an imagination run wild, while it takes vague and altogether unreal phrases for the result of a realistic way of thinking. Here, however, we shall unreservedly describe what will in time to come be a matter of common knowledge, though many to-day may still regard it as a figment of the mind. [ 39 ] With physical birth the physical human body is exposed to the physical environment of the external world. Before birth it was surrounded by the protecting envelope of the mother's body. What the forces and fluids of the enveloping mother-body have done for it hitherto, must from now onward be done for it by the forces and elements of the external physical world. Now before the change of teeth in the seventh year, the human body has a task to perform upon itself which is essentially different from the tasks of all the other periods of life. In this period the physical organs must mould themselves into definite shapes. Their whole structural nature must receive certain tendencies and directions. In the later periods also, growth takes place; but throughout the whole succeeding life, growth is based on the forms which were developed in this first life-period. If true forms were developed, true forms will grow; if misshapen forms were developed, misshapen forms will grow. We can never repair what we have neglected as educators in the first seven years. Just as Nature brings about the right environment for the physical human body before birth, so after birth the educator must provide for the right physical environment. It is the right physical environment alone, which works upon the child in such a way that the physical organs shape themselves aright. [ 40 ] There are two magic words which indicate how the child enters into relation with his environment. They are: Imitation, and Example. The Greek philosopher Aristotle called man the most imitative of creatures. For no age in life is this more true than for the first stage of childhood, before the change of teeth. What goes on in his physical environment, this the child imitates, and in the process of imitation his physical organs are cast into the forms which then become permanent. ‘Physical environment’ must, however, be taken in the widest imaginable sense. It includes not only what goes on around the child in the material sense, but everything that takes place in the child's environment—everything that can be perceived by his senses, that can work from the surrounding physical space upon the inner powers of the child. This includes all the moral or immoral actions, all the wise or foolish actions, that the child sees. [ 41 ] It is not moral talk or prudent admonitions that influence the child in this sense. Rather is it what the grown-up people do visibly before his eyes. The effect of admonition is to mould the forms, not of the physical, but of the etheric body; and the latter, as we saw, is surrounded until the seventh year by a protecting etheric envelope, even as the physical body is surrounded before physical birth by the physical envelope of the mother-body. All that has to evolve in the etheric body before the seventh year—ideas, habits, memory, and so forth—all this must develop ‘of its own accord,’ just as the eyes and ears develop within the mother-body without the influence of external light ... What we read in that excellent educational work—Jean Paul's ‘Levana’ or ‘Science of Education’—is undoubtedly true. He says that a traveler will have learned more from his nurse in the first years of his life, than in all his journeys round the world. The child, however, does not learn by instruction or admonition, but by imitation. The physical organs shape their forms through the influence of the physical environment. Good sight will be developed in the child if his environment has the right conditions of light and colour, while in the brain and blood-circulation the physical foundations will be laid for a healthy moral sense if the child sees moral actions in his environment. If before his seventh year the child sees only foolish actions in his surroundings, the brain will assume such forms as adapt it also to foolishness in later life. [ 42 ] As the muscles of the hand grow firm and strong in performing the work for which they are fitted, so the brain and other organs of the physical body of man are guided into the right lines of development if they receive the right impression from their environment. An example will best illustrate this point. You can make a doll for a child by folding up an old napkin, making two corners into legs, the other two corners into arms, a knot for the head, and painting eyes, nose and mouth with blots of ink. Or else you can buy the child what they call a ‘pretty’ doll, with real hair and painted cheeks. We need not dwell on the fact that the ‘pretty’ doll is of course hideous, and apt to spoil the healthy aesthetic sense for a lifetime. The main educational question is a different one. If the child has before him the folded napkin, he has to fill in from his own imagination all that is needed to make it real and human. This work of the imagination moulds and builds the forms of the brain. The brain unfolds as the muscles of the hand unfold when they do the work for which they are fitted. Give the child the so-called ‘pretty’ doll, and the brain has nothing more to do. Instead of unfolding, it becomes stunted and dried up. If people could look into the brain as the spiritual investigator can, and see how it builds its forms, they would assuredly give their children only such toys as are fitted to stimulate and vivify its formative activity. Toys with dead mathematical forms alone, have a desolating and killing effect upon the formative forces of the child. On the other hand everything that kindles the imagination of living things works in the right way. Our materialistic age produces few good toys. What a healthy toy it is, for example, which represents by movable wooden figures two smiths facing each other and hammering an anvil. The like can still be bought in country districts. Excellent also are the picture-books where the figures can be set in motion by pulling threads from below, so that the child itself can transform the dead picture into a representation of living action. All this brings about a living mobility of the organs, and by such mobility the right forms of the organs are built up. [ 43 ] These things can of course only be touched on here, but in future Anthroposophy will be called upon to give the necessary indications in detail, and this it is in a position to do. For it is no empty abstraction, but a body of living facts which can give guiding lines for the conduct of life's realities. [ 44 ] A few more examples may be given. A ‘nervous,’ that is to say excitable child, should be treated differently as regards environment from one who is quiet and lethargic. Everything comes into consideration, from the colour of the room and the various objects that are generally around the child, to the colour of the clothes in which he is dressed. One will often do the wrong thing if one does not take guidance from spiritual knowledge. For in many cases the materialistic idea will hit on the exact reverse of what is right. An excitable child should be surrounded by and dressed in the red or reddish-yellow colours, whereas for a lethargic child one should have recourse to the blue or bluish-green shades of colour. For the important thing is the complementary colour, which is created within the child. In the case of red it is green, and in the case of blue orange-yellow, as may easily be seen by looking for a time at a red or blue surface and then quickly directing one's gaze to a white surface. The physical organs of the child create this contrary or complementary colour, and it is this which brings about the corresponding organic structures that the child needs. If the excitable child has a red colour around him, he will inwardly create the opposite, the green; and this activity of creating green has a calming effect. The organs assume a tendency to calmness. [ 45 ] There is one thing that must be thoroughly and fully recognized for this age of the child's life. It is that the physical body creates its own scale of measurement for what is beneficial to it. This it does by the proper development of craving and desire. Generally speaking, we may say that the healthy physical body desires what is good for it. In the growing human being, so long as it is the physical body that is important, we should pay the closest attention to what the healthy craving, desire and delight require. Pleasure and delight are the forces which most rightly quicken and call forth the physical forms of the organs. In this matter it is all too easy to do harm by failing to bring the child into a right relationship, physically, with his environment. Especially may this happen in regard to his instincts for food. The child may be overfed with things that completely make him lose his healthy instinct for food, whereas by giving him the right nourishment the instinct can be so preserved that he always wants what is wholesome for him under the circumstances, even to a glass of water, and turns just as surely from what would do him harm. Anthroposophical Science, when called upon to build up an art of education, will be able to indicate all these things in detail, even specifying particular forms of food and nourishment. For Anthroposophy is realism, it is no grey theory; it is a thing for life itself. [ 46 ] Thus the joy of the child, in and with his environment, must be reckoned among the forces that build and mould the physical organs. Teachers he needs with happy look and manner, and above all with an honest unaffected love. A love which as it were streams through the physical environment of the child with warmth may literally be said to ‘hatch out’ the forms of the physical organs. [ 47 ] The child who lives in such an atmosphere of love and warmth and who has around him really good examples for his imitation, is living in his right element. One should therefore strictly guard against anything being done in the child's presence that he must not imitate. One should do nothing of which one would then have to say to the child, ‘You must not do that.’ The strength of the child's tendency to imitate can be recognized by observing how he will paint and scribble written signs and letters long before he understands them. Indeed, it is good for him to paint the letters by imitation first, and only later learn to understand their meaning. For imitation belongs to this period when the physical body is developing; while the meaning speaks to the etheric, and the etheric body should not be worked on till after the change of teeth, when the outer etheric envelope has fallen away. Especially should all learning of speech in these years be through imitation. It is by hearing that the child will best learn to speak. No rules or artificial instruction of any kind can be of good effect. [ 48 ] For early childhood it is important to realize the value of children's songs, for example, as means of education. They must make a pretty and rhythmical impression on the senses; the beauty of sound is to be valued more than the meaning. The more living the impression made on eye and ear, the better. Dancing movements in musical rhythm have a powerful influence in building up the physical organs, and this too should not be undervalued. [ 49 ] With the change of teeth, when the etheric body lays aside its outer etheric envelope, there begins the time when the etheric body can be worked upon by education from without. We must be quite clear what it is that can work upon the etheric body from without, The formation and growth of the etheric body means the moulding and developing of the inclinations and habits, of the conscience, the character, the memory and temperament. The etheric body is worked upon through pictures and examples—i.e. by carefully guiding the imagination of the child. As before the age of seven we have to give the child the actual physical pattern for him to copy, so between the time of the change of teeth and puberty we must bring into his environment things with the right inner meaning and value. For it is from the inner meaning and value of things that the growing child will now take guidance. Whatever is fraught with a deep meaning that works through pictures and allegories, is the right thing for these years. The etheric body will unfold its forces if the well-ordered imagination is allowed to take guidance from the inner meaning it discovers for itself in pictures and allegories—whether seen in real life or communicated to the mind. It is not abstract conceptions that work in the right way on the growing etheric body, but rather what is seen and perceived—not indeed with the outward senses, but with the eye of the mind. This seeing and perceiving is the right means of education for these years. For this reason it matters above all that the boy and girl should have as their teachers persons who can awaken in them, as they see and watch them, the right intellectual and moral powers. As for the first years of childhood Imitation and Example were, so to say, the magic words for education, so for the years of this second period the magic words are Discipleship and Authority. What the child sees directly in his educators, with inner perception, must become for him authority—not an authority compelled by force, but one that he accepts naturally without question. By it he will build up his conscience, habits and inclinations; by it he will bring his temperament into an ordered path. He will look out upon the things of the world as it were through its eyes. Those beautiful words of the poet, ‘Every man must choose his hero, in whose footsteps he will tread as he carves out his path to the heights of Olympus,’ have especial meaning for this time of life. Veneration and reverence are forces whereby the etheric body grows in the right way. If it was impossible during these years to look up to another person with unbounded reverence, one will have to suffer for the loss throughout the whole of one's later life. Where reverence is lacking, the living forces of the etheric body are stunted in their growth. Picture to yourself how such an incident as the following works upon the character of a child. A boy of eight years old hears tell of someone who is truly worthy of honour and respect. All that he hears of him inspires in the boy a holy awe. The day draws near when for the first time he will be able to see him. With trembling hand he lifts the latch of the door behind which will appear before his sight the person he reveres. The beautiful feelings such an experience calls forth are among the lasting treasures of life. Happy is he who, not only in the solemn moments of life but continually, is able to look up to his teachers and educators as to his natural and unquestioned authorities. [ 50 ] Beside these living authorities, who as it were embody for the child intellectual and moral strength, there should also be those he can only apprehend with the mind and spirit, who likewise become for him authorities. The outstanding figures of history, stories of the lives of great men and women: let these determine the conscience and the direction of the mind. Abstract moral maxims are not yet to be used; they can only begin to have a helpful influence, when at the age of puberty the astral body liberates itself from its astral mother-envelope. In the history lesson especially, the teacher should lead his teaching in the direction thus indicated. When telling stories of all kinds to little children before the change of teeth, our aim cannot be more than to awaken delight and vivacity and a happy enjoyment of the story. But after the change of teeth, we have in addition something else to bear in mind in choosing our material for stories; and that is, that we are placing before the boy or girl pictures of life that will arouse a spirit of emulation in the soul. The fact should not be overlooked that bad habits may be completely overcome by drawing attention to appropriate instances that shock or repel the child. Reprimands give at best but little help in the matter of habits and inclinations. If, however, we show the living picture of a man who has given way to a similar bad habit, and let the child see where such an inclination actually leads, this will work upon the young imagination and go a long way towards the uprooting of the habit. The fact must always be remembered: it is not abstract ideas that have an influence on the developing etheric body, but living pictures that are seen and comprehended inwardly. The suggestion that has just been made certainly needs to be carried out with great tact, so that the effect may not be reversed and turn out the very opposite of what was intended. In the telling of stories everything depends upon the art of telling. Narration by word of mouth cannot, therefore, simply be replaced by reading. [ 51 ] In another connection too, the presentation of living pictures, or as we might say of symbols, to the mind, is important for the period between the change of teeth and puberty. It is essential that the secrets of Nature, the laws of life, be taught to the boy or girl, not in dry intellectual concepts, but as far as possible in symbols. Parables of the spiritual connections of things should be brought before the soul of the child in such a manner that behind the parables he divines and feels, rather than grasps intellectually, the underlying law in all existence. ‘All that is passing is but a parable,’ must be the maxim guiding all our education in this period. It is of vast importance for the child that he should receive the secrets of Nature in parables, before they are brought before his soul in the form of ‘natural laws’ and the like. An example may serve to make this clear. Let us imagine that we want to tell a child of the immortality of the soul, of the coming forth of the soul from the body. The way to do this is to use a comparison, such for example as the comparison of the butterfly coming forth from the chrysalis. As the butterfly soars up from the chrysalis, so after death the soul of man from the house of the body. No man will rightly grasp the fact in intellectual concepts, who has not first received it in such a picture. By such a parable, we speak not merely to the intellect but to the feeling of the child, to all his soul. A child who has experienced this, will approach the subject with an altogether different mood of soul, when later it is taught him in the form of intellectual concepts. It is indeed a very serious matter for any man, if he was not first enabled to approach the problems of existence with his feeling. Thus it is essential that the educator have at his disposal parables for all the laws of Nature and secrets of the World. [ 52 ] Here we have an excellent opportunity to observe with what effect the spiritual knowledge of Anthroposophy must work in life and practice. When the teacher comes before a class of children, armed with parables he has ‘made up’ out of an intellectual materialistic mode of thought, he will as a rule make little impression upon them. For he has first to puzzle out the parables for himself with all his intellectual cleverness. Parables to which one has first had to condescend have no convincing effect on those who listen to them. For when one speaks in parable and picture, it is not only what is spoken and shown that works upon the hearer, but a fine spiritual stream passes from the one to the other, from him who gives to him who receives. If he who tells has not himself the warm feeling of belief in his parable, he will make no impression on the other. For real effectiveness, it is essential to believe in one's parables as in absolute realities. And this can only be when one's thought is alive with spiritual knowledge. Take for instance the parable of which we have been speaking. The true student of Anthroposophy need not torment himself to think it out. For him it is reality. In the coming forth of the butterfly from the chrysalis he sees at work on a lower level of being the very same process that is repeated, on a higher level and at a higher stage of development, in the coming forth of the soul from the body. He believes in it with his whole might; and this belief streams as it were unseen from speaker to hearer, carrying conviction. Life flows freely, unhindered, back and forth from teacher to pupil. But for this it is necessary that the teacher draw from the full fountain of spiritual knowledge. His words and all that comes from him must receive feeling, warmth and colour from a truly anthroposophic way of thought. A wonderful prospect is thus opened out over the whole field of education. If it will but let itself be enriched from the well of life that Anthroposophy contains, education will itself be filled with life and understanding. There will no longer be that groping which is now so prevalent. All art and practice of education that is not continually receiving fresh nourishment from such roots as these is dry and dead. The spiritual knowledge of Anthroposophy has for all the secrets of the world appropriate parables—pictures taken from the very being of the things, pictures not first made by man, but laid by the forces of the world within the things themselves in the very act of their creation. Therefore this spiritual knowledge must form the living basis for the whole art of education. [ 53 ] A force of the soul on which particular value must be set during this period of man's development, is memory. The development of the memory is bound up with the moulding of the etheric body. Since the latter takes place in such a way that the etheric body becomes liberated between the change of teeth and puberty, so too this is the tune for a conscious attention from without to the growth and cultivation of the memory. If what is due to the human being at this time has been neglected, his memory will ever after have less value than it might otherwise have had. It is not possible later to make up for what has been left undone. [ 54 ] In this connection many mistakes may be made by an intellectual materialistic way of thought. An art of education based on such a way of thought easily arrives at a condemnation of what is mastered merely by memory. It will often set itself untiringly and emphatically against the mere training of the memory, and will employ the subtlest methods to ensure that the boy or girl commits nothing to memory that he does not intellectually understand. Yes, and after all, how much has really been gained by such intellectual understanding? A materialistic way of thought is so easily led to believe that any further penetration into things, beyond the intellectual concepts that are as it were extracted from them, simply does not exist; and only with great difficulty will it fight its way through to the perception that the other forces of the soul are at least as necessary as the intellect, if we are to gain a comprehension of things. It is no mere figure of speech to say that man can understand with his feeling, his sentiment, his inner disposition, as well as with his intellect. Intellectual concepts are only one of the means we have to understand the things of this world, and it is only to the materialistic thinker that they appear as the sole means. Of course there are many who do not consider themselves materialists, who yet regard an intellectual conception of things as the only kind of understanding. Such people profess perhaps an idealistic or even a spiritual outlook. But in their soul they relate themselves to it in a materialistic way. For the intellect is in effect the instrument of the soul for understanding what is material. [ 55 ] We have already alluded to Jean Paul's excellent book on education; and a passage from it, bearing on this subject of the deeper foundations of the understanding, may well be quoted here. Jean Paul's book contains, indeed, many a golden word on education, and deserves far more attention than it receives. It is of greater value for the teacher than many of the educational works that are held in highest regard to-day. The passage runs as follows:— ‘Have no fear of going beyond the childish understanding, even in whole sentences. Your expression and the tone of your voice, aided by the child's intuitive eagerness to understand, will light up half the meaning, and with it in course of time the other half. It is with children as with the Chinese and people of refinement; the tone is half the language. Remember, the child learns to understand his own language before ever he learns to speak it, just as we do with Greek or any other foreign language. Trust to time and the connections of things to unravel the meaning. A child of five understands the words “yet,” “even,” “of course,” “just”; but now try to give an explanation of them—not to the child, but to his father! In the one word “of course” there lurks a little philosopher! If the eight-year-old child, with his developed speech, is understood by the child of three, why do you want to narrow down your language to the little one's childish prattle? Always speak to the child some years ahead—do not the men of genius speak to us centuries ahead in books? Talk to the one-year-old as if he were two, to the two-year-old as if he were six, for the difference in development diminishes in inverse ratio with the age. We are far too prone to credit the teachers with everything the children learn. We should remember that the child we have to educate bears half his world within him all there and ready taught, namely the spiritual half, including, for example, the moral and metaphysical ideas. For this very reason language, equipped as it is with material images alone, cannot give the spiritual archetypes; all it can do is to illumine them. The very brightness and decision of children should give us brightness and decision when we speak to them. We can learn from their speech as well as teach them through our own. Their word-building is bold, yet remarkably accurate! For instance, I have heard the following expressions used by three- or four-year-old children:—“the barreler” (for the maker of barrels)—“the sky-mouse” (for the bat)—“I am the seeing-through man” (standing behind the telescope)—“I'd like to be a ginger-bread-eater”—“he joked me down from the chair”—“See how one o'clock it is!” ...’ [ 56 ] Our quotation refers, it is true, to a different subject from that with which we are immediately concerned; but what Jean Paul says about speech has its value in the present connection also. Here too there is an understanding which precedes the intellectual comprehension. The little child receives the structure of language into the living organism of his soul, and does not require the laws of language-formation in intellectual concepts for the process. Similarly the older boy and girl must learn for the cultivation of the memory much that they are not to master with their intellectual understanding until later years. Those things are afterwards best grasped in concepts, which have first been learned simply from memory in this period of life, even as the rules of language are best learned in a language one is already able to speak. So much talk against ‘unintelligent learning by heart’ is simply materialistic prejudice. The child need only, for instance, learn the essential rules of multiplication in a few given examples—and for these no apparatus is necessary; the fingers are much better for the purpose than any apparatus,—then he is ready to set to and memorize the whole multiplication table. Proceeding in this way, we shall be acting with due regard to the nature of the growing child. We shall, however, be offending against his nature, if at the time when the development of the memory is the important thing we are making too great a call upon the intellect. The intellect is a soul-force that is only born with puberty, and we ought not to bring any influence to bear on it from outside before this period. Up to the time of puberty the child should be laying up in his memory the treasures of thought on which mankind has pondered; afterwards is the time to penetrate with intellectual understanding what has already been well impressed upon the memory in earlier years. It is necessary for man, not only to remember what he already understands, but to come to understand what he already knows—that is to say, what he has acquired by memory in the way the child acquires language. This truth has a wide application. First there must be the assimilation of historical events through the memory, then the grasping of them in intellectual concepts; first the faithful committing to memory of the facts of geography, then the intellectual grasp of the connections between them. In a certain respect, the grasping of things in concepts should proceed from the stored-up treasures of the memory. The more the child knows in memory before he begins to grasp in intellectual concepts, the better. There is no need to enlarge upon the fact that what has been said applies only for that period of childhood with which we are dealing, and not later. If at some later age in life one has occasion to take up a subject for any reason, then of course the opposite may easily be the right and most helpful way of learning it, though even here much will depend on the mentality of the person. In the time of life, however, with which we are now concerned, we must not dry up the child's mind and spirit by cramming it with intellectual conceptions. [ 57 ] Another result of a materialistic way of thought is to be seen in the lessons that rest too exclusively on sense-perception. At this period of childhood, all perception must be spiritualized. We ought not to be satisfied, for instance, with presenting a plant, a seed, a flower to the child merely as it can be perceived with the senses. Everything should become a parable of the spiritual. In a grain of corn there is far more than meets the eye. There is a whole new plant invisible within it. That such a thing as a seed has more within it than can be perceived with the senses, this the child must grasp in a living way with his feeling and imagination. He must, in feeling, divine the secrets of existence. The objection cannot be made that the pure perception of the senses is obscured by this means; on the contrary, by going no further than what the senses see, we are stopping short of the whole truth. For the full reality consists of the spirit as well as the substance; and there is no less need for faithful and careful observation when one is bringing all the faculties of the soul into play, than when only the physical senses are employed. Could men but see, as the spiritual investigator sees, what desolation is wrought in soul and body by an instruction that rests on external sense-perception alone, they would never insist upon it so strongly as they do. Of what good is it in the highest sense, that children should have shown to them all possible varieties of minerals, plants and animals, and all kinds of physical experiments, if something further is not bound up with the teaching of these things; namely, to make use of the parables which the sense-world gives, in order to awaken a feeling for the secrets of the spirit? Certainly a materialistic way of thought will have little use for what has here been said; and this the spiritual investigator understands only too well. But he also knows that the materialistic way of thought will never give rise to a really practical art of education. Practical as it appears to itself, materialistic thought is unpractical when the need is to enter into life in a living way. In face of actual reality, materialistic thought is fantastic,—though indeed to the materialistic thinker the anthroposophical teachings, adhering as they do to the facts of life, cannot but appear fantastic. There will no doubt be many an obstacle yet to overcome before the principles of Anthroposophy, which are indeed born out of life itself, can make their way into the art of education. It cannot be otherwise. The truths of this spiritual science cannot but seem strange as yet, and unaccustomed to many people. None the less, if they are true indeed, they will become part of our life and civilization. [ 58 ] Only the teacher who has a conscious and clear understanding of how the several subjects and methods of education work upon the growing child, can have the tact to meet every occasion that offers, in the right way. He has to know how to treat the several faculties of the soul—Thinking, Feeling and Willing,—so that their development may react on the etheric body, which in this period between the change of teeth and puberty can attain more and more perfect form under the influences that affect it from without. [ 59 ] By a right application of the fundamental educational principles, during the first seven years of childhood, the foundation is laid for the development of a strong and healthy Will. For a strong and healthy will must have its support in the well-developed forms of the physical body. Then, from the time of the change of teeth onwards, the etheric body which is now developing must bring to the physical body those forces whereby it can make its forms firm and inwardly complete. Whatever makes the strongest impression on the etheric body, works also most powerfully towards the consolidation of the physical body. The strongest of all the impulses that can work on the etheric body, come from the feelings and thoughts by which man divines and experiences in consciousness his relation to the Everlasting Powers. That is to say, they are those that come from religious experience. Never will a man's will, nor in consequence his character, develop healthily, if he is not able in this period of childhood to receive religious impulses deep into his soul. How a man feels his place and part in the universal Whole,—this will find expression in the unity of his life of will. If he does not feel himself linked by strong bonds to a Divine-spiritual, his will and character must needs remain uncertain, divided and unsound. [ 60 ] The world of Feeling is developed in the right way through the parables and pictures we have spoken of, and especially through the pictures of great men and women, taken from History and other sources, which we bring before the children. A correspondingly deep study of the secrets and beauties of Nature is also important for the right formation of the world of feeling. Last but not least, there is the cultivation of the sense of beauty and the awakening of the artistic feeling. The musical element must bring to the etheric body that rhythm which will then enable it to sense in all things the rhythm otherwise concealed. A child who is denied the blessing of having his musical sense cultivated during these years, will be the poorer for it the whole of his later life. If this sense were entirely lacking in him, whole aspects of the world's existence would of necessity remain hidden from him. Nor are the other arts to be neglected. The awakening of the feeling for architectural forms, for moulding and sculpture, for lines and for design, for colour harmonies—none of these should be left out of the plan of education. However simple life has to be under certain circumstances, the objection can never hold that the circumstances do not allow of anything being done in this direction. Much can be done with the simplest means, if only the teacher himself has the right artistic feeling. Joy and happiness in living, a love of all existence, a power and energy for work—such are among the lifelong results of a right cultivation of the feeling for beauty and for art. The relationship of man to man, how noble, how beautiful it becomes under this influence! Again, the moral sense, which is also being formed in the child during these years through the pictures of life that are placed before him, through the authorities to whom he looks up,—this moral sense becomes assured, if the child out of his own sense of beauty feels the good to be at the same time beautiful, the bad to be at the same time ugly. [ 61 ] Thought in its proper form, as an inner life lived in abstract concepts, must remain still in the background during this period of childhood. It must develop as it were of itself, uninfluenced from without, while life and the secrets of nature are being unfolded in parable and picture. Thus between the seventh year and puberty, thought must be growing, the faculty of judgement ripening, in among the other experiences of the soul; so that after puberty is reached, the youth may become able to form quite independently his own opinions on the things of life and knowledge. The less the direct influence on the development of judgement in earlier years, and the more a good indirect influence is brought to bear through the development of the other faculties of soul, the better it is for the whole of later life. [ 62 ] The spiritual knowledge of Anthroposophy affords the true foundations, not only for spiritual and mental education, but for physical. This may be illustrated by reference to children's games and gymnastic exercises. Just as love and joy should permeate the surroundings of the child in the earliest years of life, so through physical exercises the growing etheric body should experience an inner feeling of its own growth, of its ever increasing strength. Gymnastic exercises, for instance, should be of such a nature that each movement, each step, gives rise to the feeling within the child: ‘I feel growing strength in me.’ This feeling must take possession of the child as a healthy sense of inner happiness and ease. To think out gymnastic exercises from this point of view requires more than an intellectual knowledge of human anatomy and physiology. It requires an intimate intuitive knowledge of the connection of the sense of happiness and ease with the positions and movements of the human body—a knowledge that is not merely intellectual, but permeated with feeling. Whoever arranges such exercises must be able to experience in himself how one movement and position of the limbs produces a happy and easy feeling of strength, another, as it were, an inner loss of strength. ... To teach gymnastics and other physical exercises with these things in view, the teacher will require what Anthroposophy alone—and above all, the anthroposophical habit of mind—can give. He need not himself see into the spiritual worlds at once, but he must have the understanding to apply in life only what springs from spiritual knowledge. If the knowledge of Anthroposophy were applied in practical spheres like education, the idle talk that this knowledge has first to be proved would quickly disappear. Whoever applies it correctly, will find that the knowledge of Anthroposophy proves itself in life by making life strong and healthy. He will see it to be true in that it holds good in life and practice, and in this he will find a proof stronger than all the logical and so-called scientific arguments can afford. Spiritual truths are best recognized in their fruits and not by what is called a proof, be this ever so scientific; such proof can indeed hardly be more than logical skirmishing. [ 63 ] With the age of puberty the astral body is first born. Henceforth the astral body in its development is open to the outside world. Only now, therefore, can we approach the child from without with all that opens up the world of abstract ideas, the faculty of judgement and independent thought. It has already been pointed out, how up to this time these faculties of soul should be developing—free from outer influence—within the environment provided by the education proper to the earlier years, even as the eyes and ears develop, free from outer influence, within the organism of the mother. With puberty the time has arrived when the human being is ripe for the formation of his own judgements about the things he has already learned. Nothing more harmful can be done to a child than to awaken too early his independent judgement. Man is not in a position to judge until he has collected in his inner life material for judgement and comparison. If he forms his own conclusions before doing so, his conclusions will lack foundation. Educational mistakes of this kind are the cause of all narrow one-sidedness in life, all barren creeds that take their stand on a few scraps of knowledge and are ready on this basis to condemn ideas experienced and proved by man often through long ages. In order to be ripe for thought, one must have learned to be full of respect for what others have thought. There is no healthy thought which has not been preceded by a healthy feeling for the truth, a feeling for the truth supported by faith in authorities accepted naturally. Were this principle observed in education, there would no longer be so many people, who, imagining too soon that they are ripe for judgement, spoil their own power to receive openly and without bias the all-round impressions of life. Every judgement that is not built on a sufficient foundation of gathered knowledge and experience of soul throws a stumbling-block in the way of him who forms it. For having once pronounced a judgement concerning a matter, we are ever after influenced by this judgement. We no longer receive a new experience as we should have done, had we not already formed a judgement connected with it. The thought must take living hold in the child's mind, that he has first to learn and then to judge. What the intellect has to say concerning any matter, should only be said when all the other faculties of the soul have spoken. Before that time the intellect has only an intermediary part to play: its business is to grasp what takes place and is experienced in feeling, to receive it exactly as it is, not letting the unripe judgement come in at once and take possession. For this reason, up to the age of puberty the child should be spared all theories about things; the main consideration is that he should simply meet the experiences of life, receiving them into his soul. Certainly he can be told what different men have thought about this and that, but one must avoid his associating himself through a too early exercise of judgement with the one view or the other. Thus the opinions of men he should also receive with the feeling power of the soul. He should be able, without jumping to a decision or taking sides with this or that person, to listen to all, saying to himself: ‘This man said this, and that man that.’ The cultivation of such a mind in a boy or girl certainly demands the exercise of great tact from teachers and educators; but tact is just what anthroposophical thought can give. [ 64 ] All we have been able to do is to unfold a few aspects of education in the light of Anthroposophy. And this alone was our intention,—to indicate how great a task the anthroposophical spiritual impulse must fulfil in education for the culture of our time. Its power to fulfil the task will depend on the spread of an understanding for this way of thought in ever wider and wider circles. For this to come about, two things are, however, necessary. The first is that people should relinquish their prejudices against Anthroposophy. Whoever honestly pursues it, will soon see that it is not the fantastic nonsense many to-day hold it to be. We are not making any reproach against those who hold this opinion; for all that the culture of our time offers must tend on a first acquaintance to make one regard the followers of Anthroposophy as fantastic dreamers. On a superficial consideration no other judgement can be reached, for in the light of it Anthroposophy, with its claim to be a spiritual Science, will seem in direct contradiction to all that modern culture gives to man as the foundation of a healthy view of life. Only a deeper consideration will discover that the views of the present day are in themselves deeply contradictory and will remain so, as long as they are without the anthroposophical foundation. Indeed, of their very nature they call out for such foundation and cannot in the long run be without it. The second thing that is needed concerns the healthy cultivation of Anthroposophy itself. Only when it is perceived, in anthroposophical circles everywhere, that the point is not simply to theorize about the teachings, but to let them bear fruit in the most far-reaching way in all the relationships of life,—only then will life itself open up to Anthroposophy with sympathy and understanding. Otherwise people will continue to regard it as a variety of religious sectarianism for a few cranks and enthusiasts. If, however, it performs positive and useful spiritual work, the Anthroposophical Movement cannot in the long run be denied intelligent recognition.
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| 335. The Peoples of the Earth in the Light of Anthroposophy
10 Mar 1920, Stuttgart Tr. Charles Davy, Adam Bittleston, Jonathon Westphal Rudolf Steiner |
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| 335. The Peoples of the Earth in the Light of Anthroposophy
10 Mar 1920, Stuttgart Tr. Charles Davy, Adam Bittleston, Jonathon Westphal Rudolf Steiner |
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The last few years have shown what intense feelings of hatred and antipathy are capable of flowing through the souls of the peoples of the Earth. In his life of feeling, at any rate, no one can blind himself to the truth that earthly life can never progress fruitfully along such paths. And so it may be useful today to speak of elements which, in the light of spiritual-scientific knowledge, can unite at all events the whole of civilised mankind. Knowledge and feeling, of course, are two very different matters, but spiritual-scientific knowledge is much more intimately bound up with the whole being of man, with his innermost nature, than are the abstract truths current in the world of materialism. The truths of Spiritual Science are able to kindle ideas, feelings and impulses of will in human beings. Inner strength develops from a spiritual-scientific knowledge of the elements uniting the different peoples of the Earth and this also intensifies feelings of sympathy and mutual love. Just as it is true that in the course of evolution man has progressed from an instinctive and unconscious to a conscious life, to a full and free understanding of his mission, so, as regards the future it must be said that vague sentimentality alone will not suffice to unite the peoples of the Earth. A conscious and mutual understanding of what the one may expect of the other—that is what is needed. In another sphere of life it is comparatively easy today to see the necessity for this unification of men all over the Earth, for we have but to look at the disastrous things that are happening in the world of economics. When we seek for the root cause of these disasters and destructive tendencies, we realise that a striving to make the whole Earth into one economic sphere is an unconscious urge in the whole of mankind today. On the other hand, the peoples of the Earth have not yet reached the point of ennobling their national egoisms sufficiently to enable a collective economy of the whole Earth to arise out of the economic values they individually create. One nation tries to outdo the other in matters of economic advantage. Unreal points of view thus arise among the peoples, whereas the new instincts of mankind call out for a common economic life of the whole Earth—in effect an Earth economy. The leading minds of the times are forever laying stress upon this. There is indeed a striving for a uniform Earth economy in contrast to the separate national economies which have existed right up to the twentieth century, and it is this opposition of the national economies to an Earth economy that has caused the present havoc in economic life. When it is a question of one nation understanding another or assimilating its spiritual riches, it is not enough simply to travel among other peoples or to be led there by destiny. Mere knowledge of everyday dealings between man and man will never bring about mutual understanding between the peoples. To travel and live among other peoples is not enough, any more than cursory observation of a man's gestures and movements enables us to understand his whole being. It is true that if one has a feeling for such things, a great deal may be conjectured about the inner being of another man from his gestures and movements, but if circumstances are such that his speech is understood, the knowledge is much more fundamental, for one can then receive from him what his own inner being wants to communicate. Is it then possible for something akin to this transmission of inner force, of inner being, to arise between peoples and nations? It cannot inhere merely in speech or language or in those things we observe in the daily life of the peoples, for this is but the intercourse between man and man. Something which transcends the individual human element must be revealed by knowing and understanding another man. We are really faced with a difficulty when we want to speak intelligibly of a nation or people as an entity. Is there anything as real as an external object, as real as external life, which justifies us in speaking of a nation or a people as an entity? We can speak of an individual human being merely from sense-perception of him; but for sense-perception a nation or a people is only a totality of so many individuals. Before we can recognise a nation as a reality we must rise to the super-sensible—it is the only way. Now a man who undergoes spiritual training, who develops those forces of super-sensible knowledge which otherwise lie slumbering in his daily life, will gradually begin to see a nation or a people as a real being—of a super-sensible order, of course. When he perceives the spiritual, a foreign people is revealed to him as a spiritual being, a super-sensible reality, which—if I may use a somewhat crude expression—pervades and envelops the sense-nature of the individuals belonging to it, like a cloud. Supersensible knowledge alone enables us to penetrate into the real being of a nation or a people, and super-sensible knowledge cannot be acquired merely from the observation of daily life. I want to speak in outline today of how Spiritual Science strives to gain a really profound knowledge of the relationships among the peoples of the Earth. And here it is above all necessary to understand the being of man in the light of Spiritual Science. In a previous lecture here, as well as in my book Riddles of the Soul, published a few years ago, I said that man, as he stands before us in daily life, is not a unitary being, but that three divisions or members, clearly distinct from each other, are revealed in his bodily structure. In the human organism we have, in the first place, all that is related to and centralised in the head system—the so-called system of nerves and senses. By means of this system man has his sense-perceptions, his thoughts and ideas. Today, as the result of an unenlightened science, it is thought that the whole being of Spirit and soul in man is based upon the system of nerves and senses—is, in fact, a kind of parasite upon the rest of the organism. This is not so. If a brief personal reference is permissible, I may say that more than thirty years' study of the nature and being of man—a study which has always tried to reconcile Spiritual Science with the results of natural science—has led me to confirm this threefold nature of the human organism. It is a general assumption of modern natural science that the life of Spirit and soul runs parallel with the life of nerves and Senses. In reality it is only the thought-life of man that is bound to the system of nerves and senses. Sentient life (feeling) is bound up with the rhythmic processes in the human organism. The feeling-life of man is connected directly with the rhythms of breathing and blood circulation, just as the life of thought and perception is connected with the system of nerves and senses. Similarly, the life of will is connected with the metabolic system (digestion and assimilation) in man. The seemingly lowest division of the human organism—the metabolic system (in the sense of a process, of course, and not of substance)—is the bearer of man's life of will. In his nature of soul and Spirit, man is also a threefold being. The spiritual will, the feeling-life of the soul, the thinking, ideation and perception directed to external material phenomena—these are the three members or divisions of man's nature of soul and Spirit. These three members correspond to the three members of the physical organism—to the system of nerves and senses, to the rhythmic life of blood circulation and breathing, and to the metabolic life. Now if we observe human beings in any given regions of the earth, we find that in terms of this threefold organisation they are by no means absolutely the same the whole Earth over. Another great error in modern thought is to imagine that one common social programme could be issued for the whole of the Earth and that men could adjust themselves to it. Human beings are individualised, specialized, in the different regions of the Earth. And those who would learn to know the true being of man as he lives on the Earth must be able to develop love not only for an abstract, universal humanity—for that would be merely an ‘idea’ of humanity, a dead, empty idea. Those who would really understand their fellow-beings must develop love for the individual forms and expressions of human nature in the different regions of the Earth. In the short time at our disposal it is impossible to characterise all the individual peoples. All that can be done is to consider the main types of earthly humanity. We are led, in the first place, to a very characteristic type and also one of the very oldest—to the oriental, as expressed in many different ways in the ancient Indian peoples and in other Eastern races. This oriental type reveals one common element, especially in the Indian people. The man of the East has grown together, as it were, with the Earth which is his own soil. However clearly it may appear that the oriental has received the Spirit with intense devotion into his heart and soul, however deeply oriental mysticism may impress us, if we study the racial characteristics of the oriental, we shall find that the lofty spirituality we so justly admire is dependent, in his case, upon the experiences of the will flowing in the human being, the will that is, in turn, bound up with the metabolic processes. However paradoxical it may appear at first sight, this very spirituality of the oriental peoples, and especially of the ancient Indian, is something that—to use a crude expression—wells up from the metabolic processes. These processes are, in turn, connected with the processes of Nature in the environment of the oriental. Think of the Indian in very ancient times. Around him are the trees and fruits, everything that Nature in her beauty and wonder gives to man. The oriental unites this with the metabolic processes within him in such a way that the metabolism becomes a kind of continuation of all that is ripening to fruit on the trees and living under the soil in the roots. In his metabolic nature, the oriental has grown together with the fertility and well-being of the Earth. The metabolic process is the bearer of the will—hence the will develops in the inner being of man. But that which develops in the innermost being, in which man is firmly rooted and by means of which he relates himself to his environment—this does not enter very vividly into consciousness. A different element streams into the conscious life of the oriental. Into the feeling and thinking life of the oriental—especially of the most characteristic type—the Indian—there streams something that to all appearance is experienced in the metabolic processes in a material sense. In its spiritual ‘mirror-image,’ however, it appears as spiritual life. Thus when we enter into all that has come forth from the soul and the thought of the really creative peoples of the East, it appears as a spiritual product of the Earth itself. When we steep ourselves in the Vedas that we pervaded by the light of the Spirit and speak with such intensity to our souls, if we respond to the instinctive subtlety of Vedanta and Yoga philosophy or go deeply into such works as those of Laotze and Confucius, or are drawn to devote ourselves to oriental poetry, oriental wisdom, we never feel that it flows in an individual form from a human personality. Through his metabolic processes the oriental grows together with Nature around him. Nature lives and works on, seethes and surges within him, and when we allow his poetic wisdom to work upon us, it is as though the Earth herself were speaking. The mysteries of the Earth's growth seem to speak to mankind through the lips of the man of the East. We feel that no Western or Central European people could ever interpret the inner Spiritual mysteries of the Earth herself in this way. The highest types of oriental peoples seem to move over the face of the Earth, expressing in their inner life something that really lives under the surface of the Earth. This grows up from below the Earth and bursts forth in blossoms and fruits, just as it does in the Spirit and soul of the man of the East. The inner essence of the Earth becomes articulate, as it were, in the oriental peoples. We can therefore understand that in accordance with their whole being, they have less feeling for the physical phenomena on the surface of the Earth and the external facts of the material world. Their innermost nature is one with the sub-earthly forces of which the external sense-phenomena are the outcome. They are therefore less concerned with what is taking place on the surface of the Earth. They are ‘metabolic-men.’ But the metabolic processes are expressed, in their case, in the life of soul and Spirit. Now when an ideal arises before the peoples of the East, what form does it take? The injunction given to pupils by oriental sages was somewhat as follows: ‘You must breathe in a certain way; you must enter into the rhythm of life.’ These teachers instructed their pupils in certain rhythms of breathing and blood circulation. The way in which they taught their pupils of the higher life of soul is highly characteristic. The whole organisation of man as we see him in the ordinary life of the East, belonging to an Asiatic people, and especially to a Southern Asiatic people, is based upon metabolism. When he forms a concrete ideal of how he can become higher man, he develops his rhythmic system, by an act of free-will he strives for something that is higher, that is not given him by Nature. Now the strange thing is that the further we pass from the Asiatic to the European peoples, and especially to those of Middle Europe, we find an outstanding development of the rhythmic system in the ordinary daily life of man. The peoples, not of Eastern or of Western Europe, but of Middle Europe, possess as a natural characteristic that for which the Indian strives as his ideal of a superman. But it is one thing to have to acquire a quality by dint of self-discipline and free spiritual activity, and another to possess it naturally and instinctively. The man of Middle Europe possesses by nature what the oriental has to develop from out of his metabolic life which is inwardly connected with the Earth. Thus, what is for the oriental an ideal, is for the European a natural possession of daily life; his ideal, therefore, must necessarily be different. The ideal of the European lies one stage higher; it is the life of thought bound up with the life of nerves and senses. There is a quality of unbridled phantasy in the artistic creations of the oriental. It seems to rise from inner Earth activity, just as vapour rises from water into the clouds. The inner, rhythmic ‘wholeness,’ which is the essence of the life of Middle Europe, enabled the ancient Greek people—who accomplished so much for the whole of modern civilisation—to create what we call European Art. The Greek strove for all that makes manifest the inner harmony of earthly man. The material elements and the etheric-spiritual elements are balanced—and the ‘middle’ man is expressed. The creations of oriental phantasy always run to excess in some direction or other. It is in the artistic conceptions of Greece that the human form was first imbued with harmonious roundness and inner wholeness. This was because man realised his true being in the rhythmic system. When the man of Greece set himself an ideal, it was one he strove to reach by dint of inner discipline of soul, by dint of education. He used the organ of thinking just as the oriental uses the organs connected with rhythm in the human being. The Yogi of India endeavours to regulate his breathing according to the laws of Spirit and soul so that it may bear him above the level of ordinary humanity. The man of Middle Europe trains himself to rise above the instinctive processes of the rhythmic system, of the blood circulation, of the breathing, to what makes him truly man. Out of this the life of thought is developed. But these thoughts, especially in the highest type of Middle European, become merely an ‘interpreter’ of the being of man. This is what strikes us when we turn to the productions of European culture after having steeped ourselves in those of oriental humanity. In the highly spiritual creations of oriental culture we see, as it were, the very blossoming of earthly evolution. Human lips give expression to the speech of the Earth herself. It is not so in the man of Middle European nor was it so in the ancient Greek. When the man of Middle Europe follows the promptings of his own true nature, when he is not false to himself, when he realises that self-knowledge is the noblest crown of human endeavour, that the representation of the human in Nature and in history is a supreme achievement of man—then he will express as his ideal everything that he himself is as a human being. The very essence of the man of Middle Europe is expressed when he gives free play to his own inherent being. Hence we can understand that the wonderful thought expressed in Goethe's book on Winckelmann could arise only in Middle Europe. I refer to the passage where Goethe summarises the lofty perceptions, profound thought and strong will-impulses of this wonderful man into a description of his own conception of the world, for it is like the very sun of modern culture: “In that man is placed on Nature's pinnacle, he regards himself as another entire Nature, whose task is to bring forth inwardly yet another pinnacle. For this purpose he heightens his powers, imbues himself with perfections and virtues—summons discrimination, order and harmony and rises finally to the production of a work of art.” Man's own spiritual nature gives birth to a new being. This application of all the forces to the understanding of man himself is especially manifest in the man of Middle Europe—when he is true to his own being. It is only in more modern times that this has fallen into the background. The man of Middle Europe has every motive to consider how he should develop this veneration, understanding and penetration of what is truly human. If we now look at the East and its peoples from a more purely spiritual point of view, we shall find that the oriental peoples, just because they are ‘metabolic men,’ develop the spirituality which constitutes the connection between the human soul and the Divine. If man's nature is to be complete, he must bring forth, in his inner being, those qualities with which he is not endowed by the elemental world; in his own consciousness he must awaken the antithesis of all that he possesses by nature. Thus the oriental develops a spirituality which makes him conscious of the connection between the human soul and the Divine. The oriental can speak of man's connection with the Divine as a matter of course, in a way that is possible to no other race, in words that touch the very heart. Other peoples of the Earth may subjugate and conquer oriental races and try to instil into them their own idiosyncrasies, laws and regulations, but they do, nevertheless, assimilate what the East has to say about the connection of man with the Divine as something which applies to themselves also. In modern times we have seen how Western peoples, steeped in materialism though they may be, turn to oriental philosophers such as ancient Laotze to Chinese and Indian conceptions of the world, not so much in search of ideas but in order to find the inner fervour which will enable them to experience man's connection with the Divine. Men steep themselves in oriental literature much more in order that their feelings may be warmed by the way in which the oriental speaks of his connection with the Divine than for the sake of any philosophical content. The abstract nature of the European makes it difficult for him really to understand oriental philosophy. Again and again people who have studied the sayings of Buddha, with all their endless repetitions, have expressed the opinion to me that these sayings ought to be abridged and the repetitions eliminated. My only answer could be: ‘You have no real understanding of the true greatness of oriental philosophy, for it is expressed in the very repetitions which you want to cut out.’ When the oriental steeps himself in the sayings of Buddha, with the repetitions which only irritate people of the West, he is on the way to his ideal the rhythmic recurrence of the motif. The same phrase is repeated over and over again. Now, as we have seen, the oriental lives naturally in the processes of the metabolic system. When he gives himself up to the recurring phrases of Buddha, there arises within him a spiritual counterpart of the system of breathing and blood circulation; he has brought this about by dint of his own free endeavours. If a European really tries to understand all that is great and holy in the oriental nature, he gains a knowledge which will elude him unless he consciously develops it. It is quite natural that the European should want to eliminate the repetitions in the sayings of Buddha, for he lives in the breathing rhythm and his ideal is to raise himself to the element of thought. When the thought is once grasped he wants no repetitions—he strives to get beyond them. If we are to study these oriental repetitions, we must, in effect, develop another kind of quality—not an intellectual understanding but an inner love for what is expressed in individual forms by the different peoples. Our whole attitude should make us realise that the particular qualities which make one people great are not possessed by the others, and we can understand these qualities only when we are able to love the other Peoples and appreciate the full value of their particular gifts. It is just when we penetrate into the inner nature and essence of the Peoples of the Earth that we find the differences of their individual natures. And then we realise that the all-embracing sphere of the ‘human’ is not expressed in its entirety through any individual man, or through the members of any one race, but only through the whole of mankind. If anyone would understand what he is in his whole being, let him study the characteristics of the different peoples of the Earth. Let him assimilate the qualities which he himself cannot possess by nature, for only then will he become fully man. Full and complete manhood is a possibility for everyone. Everyone should pay heed to what lives in his own inner being. The revelation vouchsafed to other peoples is not his and he must find it in them. In his heart he feels and knows that this is necessary. If he discovers what is great and characteristic in the other peoples and allows this to penetrate deeply into his own being, he will realise that the purpose of his existence cannot be fulfilled without these other qualities, because they are also part of his own inner striving. The possibility of full manhood lies in every individual, but it must be brought to fulfilment by understanding the special characteristics of the different peoples spread over the Earth. It is in the East, then, that man is able to express with a kind of natural spirituality his connection with the Divine. When we turn to the peoples of Middle Europe, we find that what is truly characteristic of them is hidden under layers of misconception—and these must be cleared away. Think of all the great philosophers who, having thought about Nature and God in a human sense, have with almost no exception raised another question as well. Nearly every great German Philosopher has been occupied with the question of equity, of rights as between man and man. The search for equity, misunderstood and hindered though it be, is a characteristic of the Middle European peoples. Those who do not recognise this have no understanding of the peoples of Middle Europe, and nothing will divert them from the prevailing materialism (which has quite another source) back to what is fundamentally characteristic of true Teutonic stock. Just as the man of the East is the interpreter of the Earth because his spiritual life is a blossom or fruit of the Earth herself, so is the Teuton an interpreter of himself, of his own being. He faces himself questioningly, and because of this he faces every other man as his equal. The burning question for him, therefore, is that of equity, of right. Wherever Teutonic thought has striven to fathom the depths of the universe, in men such as Fichte, Hegel or Schelling, it has never been a question of adopting the old Roman tradition of equity but of investigating its very nature and essence. The abstract results of these investigations, to be found in Fichte, Hegel, Schelling and Humboldt, are fundamentally the same thing as we find in Goethe when he seeks along multifarious paths for the expression of the truth, harmony and fullness of man's nature. In this sense Goethe is the representative of the Teutonic, Middle European nature. Just as the oriental faces the Earth, so does the Middle European face man, with self-knowledge. If we pass to Western Europe and thence to America, we find the figure of the true Westerner expressed in abstract thinking. To use a figure of speech employed, I believe, by that deeply spiritual writer, Rabindranath Tagore, the Westerner is pre-eminently a ‘head-man.’ The oriental is a ‘heart-man,’ for he experiences the process of metabolism in his heart; the Middle European is the ‘breath-man.’ He stands in a rhythmic relationship to the outer world through the rhythmic processes within him. The Westerner is a head-man and Tagore compares him to a ‘spiritual giraffe.’ Tagore loves the Westerner, for when it is a question of describing characteristics, sympathy and antipathy do not necessarily come into play. Tagore compares the Westerner to a spiritual giraffe because he raises everything into abstractions—into abstractions such as gave rise, for instance, to the ‘Fourteen Points’ of President Wilson. Speaking in the sense of spiritual reality, one feels that the Westerner's head is separated from the rest of his body by a long neck and the head can only express in abstract concepts what it offers to the world. A long path has to be trodden before these abstract concepts, these husks of words and ideas, finds their way to the heart, the lungs and the breathing system, and so to the region where they can become feelings and pass over into will. The characteristic quality of the Western man inheres, then, in what I will call the thinking system. The ideal for which the Middle European strives—which he endeavours to attain as a result of freedom, of free spiritual activity—does not have to be striven for by the Westerner and especially not by the American through this free Spiritual activity, for the Westerner possesses it instinctively. Instinctively he is a man of abstractions. As I have said, it is not the same to possess a quality instinctively as to strive for it by dint of effort. When it has once been acquired it is bound up with man's nature in quite another way. To acquire a quality by dint of free spiritual activity is not the same thing as to possess it instinctively, as a gift of Nature. Now here lies a great danger. Whereas the Indian in his Yoga philosophy strives upwards to the rhythmic system, and the Middle European to the thinking system, the Westerner, the ‘spiritual giraffe,’ must transcend the merely intellectual processes if he is not to lose his true humanity. As I recently said quite frankly to a gathering attended by a number of Westerners, this is the great responsibility facing the West at the present time. In the case of the Middle Europeans it will be a healthy, free striving that leads them to spirituality, to Spiritual Science. The whole nature of Western man will be lost in an abyss, if, as he strives to rise beyond the thinking-system, he falls into an empty ‘spiritualism,’ seeking for the qualities of soul in a region where the soul does not dwell. Here lies the danger, but also the great responsibility. The danger is that the Westerner may fall into soul-emptiness as he strives to transcend the qualities bestowed on him by Nature; his responsibility is to allow himself to be led to true Spiritual Science, lest by virtue of his dominant position in the world he should lend himself to the downfall of humanity. It is a solemn duty of the peoples of Middle Europe—for it is part of their nature—to ascend the ladder to spiritual knowledge. But on their path of ascent from the rhythmic, breathing-system to the thinking-system, they gain something else in the sphere of the human. The danger confronting Western peoples is that they may leave the sphere of the human when they set up an ideal for themselves. This really lies at the root of the existence of the many sectarian movements in the West—movements which run counter to the principle of the ‘universal human’ at the present time. In the oriental, whose metabolic system is so closely related to the Earth, a spiritual activity along the paths or Nature herself arises. The man of the West, with his predominantly developed thinking-system, turns his gaze primarily to the world of sense. It is as though something under the surface of the Earth were working in the oriental; the man of the West seems to pay heed only to what is above the Earth's surface, the phenomena which arise as a result of sun, moon, stars, air, water and the like. The thought-processes themselves, however, have not been derived from what is happening at the periphery. I said in a previous lecture that the spiritual in man cannot be explained by the study of the earthly world around him. The spiritual fruits of the Earth arise in the very being of the true oriental and he knows himself, as man, with the living Spirit within him, to be a Citizen of the whole Cosmos—a member not only of the Earth but of the whole Cosmos. The Westerner, with his more highly developed thinking-system, has been deprived of this Cosmos by modern science, and is left with nothing but the possibility to calculate it in mathematical and mechanical formulae. The Westerner must realise that the origin of his soul is cosmic, that indeed he could not exist as a thinking being if this were not so, and he must also realise cold, barren mathematics is the only science which remains to him for the purpose of explaining the Cosmos. The outpourings of the Earth herself have become part of the very being of the oriental—his poetic wisdom is like a blossom of the Earth. The Middle European has to recognise that his essential human quality is revealed in man and through man. In effect the human being confronts himself. The qualities of most value in the man of the West are those bestowed not by the Earth, but by the Cosmos. But the only means he has of approaching these cosmic, super-sensible gifts is by mathematical calculation, by equally dry spectro-analysis or by similar hypotheses. What the Middle European seeks as an expression of equity between man and man is sought by the Westerner through his dedication to economic affairs, for the human rights he values as an expression of the spirit seem to him to emerge only as the fruit of economic life. Hence it is not surprising that Karl Marx left Germany, where he might have learnt to recognise the nature of man in a Goethean, humanistic sense, and went to the West, to England, where his gaze was diverted from the truly human element and he was misled with the belief that what man can know is nothing but an ideology, a fact of economic life. This is not a truth in the absolute sense, but is fundamental to the nature of the man of the West, just as it is fundamental to the oriental peoples to behold Nature side by side with the being of man and then to speak of the connection of the human soul with the Divine as a self-evident fact. That is why many men of the West who feel the necessity for looking up to the Divine—for, as I have already said, all men feel the need at least to become complete man—are aware of a longing, even when they try to conquer oriental peoples, to receive from them what they have to say about man's connection with the Divine. Whether we apply this to smaller races and individual peoples, or confine ourselves to what is typical everywhere we see that man in his whole nature is not expressed in the members of any one people or race. Full manhood is as yet only an urge within us, but this urge must grow into a love for all humanity, for those qualities we do not ourselves possess by nature but can acquire if we sincerely seek for knowledge of the nature of other peoples of the Earth. The internationalism prevailing in the age of Goethe assumed this form. It is this kind of internationalism that permeates such thoughts as are found, for instance, in The Boundaries of the State by William Von Humboldt. It is the striving of a true cosmopolitanism which, by assimilating all that can be acquired from a love extended to other races, ennobles and uplifts the individual people; knowledge of one's own race is sought by assimilating all that is idealistic, great and beautiful in other peoples of the Earth. It is because of this that in Germany's days of spiritual prime there arose from out of the rhythmic life of her people a lofty cosmopolitanism which had been sought from among all other peoples. Just think how Herder's search took him among other peoples, how he tried to unravel the deepest being of all peoples of the Earth! How penetrated he was by the thought that permeating the individual ‘man of flesh’ there is another man, greater and more powerful, who can be discovered only when we are able to pour ourselves out over all peoples. We cannot help contrasting this spirit, which at the turn of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries was the germ of greatness in Middle Europe, with the internationalism of today. In its present form, internationalism is not a living pulse in the world; it is preached throughout the world in the form of Marxism—and Marxism believes only in human thinking. Internationalism nowadays is a more or less weakened form of Marxism. There is no longer any inkling of the differentiation of full and complete humanity over the Earth. An abstraction is set up and is supposed to represent humanity, to represent man. Such internationalism is not the first stage of an ascent but the last stage of a decline, because it is devoid of all endeavours to reach after true internationality, which always ennobles the individual stock. The kind of internationalism which appears in Marxism and all that has developed from it is the result of remaining stationary within a one-sided and wholly unpractical system of thought that is applied merely to the world of sense and has not penetrated to the real national qualities. True internationalism, by contrast, springs from a love which goes out to all peoples and races in order that the light received from them may be kindled in the deeds, concepts and creations of one's own people. Each individual race must so find its place in the great chorus of the peoples on the Earth that it contributes to the full understanding which can alone unite them all in real and mutual knowledge. In this lecture it has not been my object to speak of matters which might seem to indicate a ‘programme.’ I wanted to speak of the spiritual-scientific knowledge that is kindled in the spiritual investigator as a result of his higher knowledge of the communal life of man on the Earth, for this true communal life is indeed possible. One can, of course, speak from many different points of view of what is necessary for the immediate future of humanity; one can speak of this impulse or that. But it must be realised that a spiritual comfort flowing from the knowledge I have tried to indicate, more in fleeting outline than in detail, may be added to all that can be said in regard to social, political or educational affairs. It is a comfort that may flow from knowledge of the rhythm, I say expressly the possible rhythm, of the historical life of humanity. This lecture should show you that the hatred and antipathy in the world today can indeed be followed by international love with healing in its wings. This is indeed possible. But we are living in an age when all that is possible must be consciously, deliberately and freely striven for by men. There must be knowledge of the conditions requisite for uniting the peoples of the Earth, in order that, as a result of this knowledge, each individual people may help to make the waves of love follow those of hatred. Human love alone has power to heal the wounds of hatred. If mankind has no wish for this love, chaos will remain. That is the terrible alternative now facing men who have knowledge. Those who realise its terrors know that the souls of men dare not sleep, for otherwise, as a result of the powerlessness caused by the sleep into which the souls of the peoples have fallen, the healing waves oflove will not be able to flow over the waves of hatred. Men who realise this will acquire the kind of knowledge that flows from a spiritual conception of the relationships between the peoples. They will take this knowledge into their feeling—love for humanity will be born. They will take this knowledge into their will—deeds for humanity will be accomplished. The evolution of the age, with all the terrible paralysis that is appearing at the present time, places a solemn duty before the soul: to gather together all that can unite mankind in love and array it in opposition to the destructive elements that have made their appearance in recent times. This quest for loving unification, for unifying love is not merely a vague feeling. To those who understand the conditions of life today, it is the very highest duty of man. |
| 72. Moral, Social and Religious Life from the Standpoint of Anthroposophy
11 Dec 1918, Bern Rudolf Steiner |
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| 72. Moral, Social and Religious Life from the Standpoint of Anthroposophy
11 Dec 1918, Bern Rudolf Steiner |
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Today I would like to speak about the relation of the supersensible knowledge to the moral, social, and religious life of the human being. The naturalist Wallace (Arthur Russel W., 1823-1913) who tried to create a worldview in similar way as Darwin made an important quotation about the moral development of humanity. Haeckel and many other researchers also agree to this quotation. Wallace said, as big the progress of humanity is with reference to the knowledge of nature and its backgrounds, as little is on the other side the progress of the moral life. From stage to stage, one realises the world knowledge developing. If one looks at the moral development, one cannot say that humanity has made substantial progress since ancient times. Indeed, such a quotation is of particular significance. Indeed, someone who tries to get a deeper insight in the course of the human development will not be able to agree with this thinker for ever and ever; but for the recent, by the natural sciences determined time for which Wallace as a naturalist has a sharpened eye one will be able to maintain this quotation. In older times that the mentioned thinker can less survey, it is not right that the intellectual knowledge hurries forward in such an essential way compared to the stages of the moral development. However, just for our time in which the scientific knowledge has advanced brilliantly one has to consider what this thinker states. Someone who looks at the catastrophic events of the last years with understanding, with empathy will admit that that which one has experienced does not give evidence of a special moral progress, which keeps up with the intellectual progress of humanity. There seems a very important question to be which is more urgent because on the other side the desire exists just today to become aware of the areas of morality. However, someone who gets to know the real character of the scientific research in that way, as I have characterised it the day before yesterday from the spiritual-scientific viewpoint, knows while he experiences the border of this scientific cognition that it is not an accidental meeting for the last centuries, but that a causal connection is to be found. I had explained the day before yesterday how just the essentials of scientific knowledge consist of the fact that it finds its way to its progress, while it takes no account of the capacity for love which just enables us to produce the right relation to human beings. However, because this capacity for love continues having an effect in the human being, it must be retained so that scientific knowledge can be obtained, that is why the human being arrives in the scientific cognition at a certain border. As one can easily understand, the development of the capacity for love is associated with the progressive life. If by contrast one considers those spiritual abilities that the human being just applies if he practises natural sciences, one finds that the forces that play a special role in this research cannot be directed to the progressive life, but to the dying life. While we look into life with these scientific forces, we do not look into life, but into that which dies. It is not detrimental to the scientific research if just the strict naturalists repeatedly argue against concepts like “vitality” in science. In the course of the nineteenth century, scientific research has rightly eliminated what one called “vitality” once. However, some people believe, it is only a temporary defect that the human being cannot look into life, but is only able to look at the dying. However, it is not in this way. The ability of knowledge that is directed to nature has to search the dead within the living. Hence, the trend is to expel life in order to search just that what does not live. One cannot say that one can also understand life with the advancing way of scientific thinking. No, this way of thinking will be great just because it does not understand life but looks for the dying. Hence, the understanding of such soul qualities that are associated with the capacity for love has decreased in that time in which this way of thinking has reached a special height. With it, the whole moral life is connected. Love is the basic force that has to develop, so that moral life exists. Outer events also prove what I have just explained. One experiences quite strange things in this area. I have repeatedly pointed in my talks of the last years to an excellent book by Oscar Hertwig (1849-1922), The Origin of Organisms — a Refutation of Darwin's Theory of Chance (1916). I had to appreciate this book almost as a brilliant achievement because Oscar Hertwig refutes any hasty conclusion of the materialistically minded Darwinists with conscientious scientific methods. Now something extremely strange happened. Oscar Hertwig published another, minor writing that dealt with moral, social, and political questions. Lo and behold, this writing contains the purest nonsense. A way of thinking pervades the writing that is suitable in no way for the solution of the put questions. Thus, we see a brilliant naturalist completely failing where he wants to consider social, moral, and political phenomena. I could increase these examples. However, you need only to point to one thing to show how the modern times have become infertile concerning the understanding of the moral life. I have to become somewhat heretic if I characterise these things because people do not yet want to believe this today,—heretic in this case not against the church but against quite different directions. If you consider philosophical worldviews that are not superficial and arise from the mere scientific way of thinking, one likes to point to Kant and Kantianism. Just Kant was often quoted in disgusting way in the last time, I would like to say. Since one could realise that the worst hawks and the most radical pacifists quoted Kant. There are those who have changed during the last weeks just from furious hawks into radical pacifists—such persons do exist—, quoted Kant once and quote Kant now in the nicest way according to their respective opinion. Indeed, Kant is typical in many fields for the form which modern thinking has assumed. He is also typical for how people often assume that what faces them in the spiritual life. By his way of writing, one considers Kant as an author who is somewhat hard to understand. However, because some people bring themselves to understand him and consider themselves as very clever, they find, because Kant said something clever that they can just still understand that Kant is a particularly great man. Well, concerning the moral life Kant put up a principle that one quotes very often, indeed, it is sometimes only called, while one says, Kant put up the “categorical imperative” concerning the moral life. This “categorical imperative,” put into words, is as follows: act in such a way that the maxims of your action can become a guideline for all human beings.—This has seemed to me always in such a way, as if anybody says, let a tailor make such a jacket that all human beings can wear it.—The immediate moral impulses can be grasped only with the most individual of the human being and can enjoy life only this way. These are pressed in the empty phrases of extreme abstraction that should be applied to all human beings in the same way. It is important to realise that one has to strive for abstractions in the area of physical laws, but this way of imagining leads away from the field in the human being that wants to be grasped if one wants to envisage the moral impulses what carries the human being immediately in the moral life and strengthens him. Since that by which we are moral human beings has to catch fire in the immediate living conditions, in the immediate relation from human being to human being. This is something very individual in every single case. The human soul must have the possibility to develop a very individual impulse from himself that cannot be characterised by the fact that one says, it should be a maxim for all human beings. No, that what can be a maxim for all human beings has the least moral impact, does not carry the human being morally through life, but that what directly obliges him in the most individual sense to behave one way or the other. In the immediate life, no concept or mental picture carries the human being in the moral sense but love. I have already tried 25 years ago to found this teaching of individual morality in my Philosophy of Freedom struggling against the abstract trend of Kantianism. This is penetrated above all with the knowledge that the moral action can only arise from such a love of the concerning action to be done which equals the love for a single human being. Love must prevail in the action that should be a moral one, love which is not self-love, but which forces back the self and replaces it with that what should take place from pure love. The individual insight that I should carry out the action, which is up to me, changes the action into a moral one. I have said the day before yesterday that in the characterised supersensible consciousness just the force of love prevails which does not prevail in the usual abstract thinking. Of course, I have not stated with it that the activity of the spiritual researcher is identical with that what the soul accomplishes if it feels morally. It is not identical, but it is of the same kind. As well as the soul works in the usual life in a certain area, while it feels morally, it is just active in another area, while it raises a force which normally slumbers, while it beholds into the spiritual world and develops the final goal of the supersensible knowledge, the Intuitive knowledge. One ascends from the Imaginative to the Inspired, to the Intuitive knowledge. The Intuitive knowledge of supersensible beings and events is not like the love in the moral area, but the situation is the same in which the soul is as in the physical area while it feels love morally. The state of the soul is the same. Hence, spiritual science is allowed to say, within its own activity just that ability of the soul that is realised in the moral life is maintained on higher spiritual level. That is why spiritual science especially cultivates that what has been eclipsed just by the glorious development of the scientific knowledge, the trend to that soul force which is necessary to the moral action. Thus, one may say, if one considers Kantianism and the scientific ways of thinking, they have pushed down the former, more instinctive life, which delivered the moral impulses as it were into the unconscious. However, spiritual science raises these forces again which are related to the moral feeling. Spiritual science will raise that into full consciousness what lived once as instinctive moral sensations in the human being. Thus, one can understand that just in the time in which humanity left a more instinctive soul life and developed unilaterally in the area of intellectual knowledge of nature at first, the sense withdrew which is immediately directed to that what lives as moral in the human being. Thus, the conscious sense for moral impulses is not maintained just during this scientific age. It will appear if just in the centre of the soul life that force for the knowledge of higher supersensible worlds emerges which must live on another level in the normal moral feeling of the soul. Spiritual science brings about these mental pictures of the supersensible worlds. If humanity assumes these spiritual-scientific mental pictures as well as the scientific mental pictures, they will have another significance in the soul life than the scientific mental pictures. These spiritual-scientific mental pictures are brought from such areas of the soul where the soul force related with the moral is maintained. Hence, they react upon the capacity for love and with it upon the immediately individual impulses of the moral life. While the age of abstractions could give a general definition only, spiritual science will be able to intervene immediately in life, so that the human being faces life understanding and gets the moral impulse from the intuition of life. Then another kind of moral influence than from any abstract moral theory or a sum of moral principles will originate from spiritual science. That will originate what does not only make the maxims immediately moral because one can experience them in life: moral sermons do not help much in life. Of course, some people regard it as a requirement of our time to stress always again, the human beings should love each other.—However, this is only pointless rhetoricalness, if not even nonsense, if not even a mask for the fact that one just has little love and stresses it, hence, all the more. The less spiritual science talks about love, the more the special imaginations arising from the force of love arouse the understanding and—I would like to say—the capacity to unfold the moral in the individual situation, while they settle in the soul. Hence, spiritual science hopes if it finds the access to the human beings that it does not give moral maxims only but even moral heating fuel. Hence, spiritual science will revive that what has withered under the influence of the scientific knowledge. Concerning the moral life one will note if one has tried to implement scientific thinking also in the moral world that this thinking in the moral area can lead only to concepts of decline because it considers the dying life only also towards nature. However, because spiritual science is related in its searching with the productive force that expresses itself in love, it will be also able to bring productive morality to humanity again. It will spread something again among the human beings that they will not despair of the question: what should I do, actually? What is my task?-, but it will work among the human beings that they receive the suggestion from it to do this and that in life and to be carried morally thereby through life. The number of those who labour and are heavy laden will decrease who suffer just from it emotionally and suffer as a result of it also physically that they cannot use life because they have nothing in their thinking, in their mental pictures and ideas that lets the moral task arise. In spiritual science just a knowledge, a sum of qualities will exist which does not betray the human being if he envisages his life tasks, but fulfils him with moral impulses, so that he can say to himself at every moment of life, I deal with this or that. Then he finds no time to ponder with the empty soul and not to know what he should do with his life, to have to go to sanitariums, to be stimulated from the outside, so that his soul is filled, while it can only be filled really if one can get the life tasks from the depths of the own inside. One can easily argue, one does not note with some followers of spiritual science that these fruits of which I have just spoken appear with them; on the contrary, one realises that with them often above all selfishness and egoism, sometimes an ingenious egoism develops that one can find little love just with them. One should still admit this for today. That what should develop has to struggle through some obstacles. However, it is inherent in the nature of the matter that the things develop this way. It is also very much reasoned that at first something else appears. Those are not wrong who say, yes, spiritual science also thinks that the present life points to former lives on earth and to future ones and that the human being lives during the intervals in the spiritual world—that the destiny which now the human being experiences in spite of his freedom is dependent on that what he brings with him from former lives and that that which he accomplishes in this life works again on coming lives. Indeed, I have heard, how full persons if one has made them aware of starving and miserable people who believed, however, to be rather good followers of any spiritual-scientific direction, said, well, this is okay, we have deserved that in the former life, and he has deserved his hunger in his former life.—This is only a radical expression of that which often appears while people use what they receive from spiritual science to justify their materialist sensations. Of course, if one has to extend the human individuality beyond this single life if one has to point to that what develops as something transpersonal in the human individuality in his lives on earth, egoism can be thereby stirred up, as the theoretical egoism is often stirred up with the numerous supporters of spiritual science who are concerned with nothing more important than to invent who they were in their previous lives on earth. There are often such people. However, what forms the basis there is the following. The human being experiences two levels if he is concerned with spiritual science. The first level consists of the fact that he accepts that what he receives from spiritual science for his own satisfaction. He is happy to find out something with which he can live. This is the first level. The second level is that where one exceeds what generates just a subtle egoism where one goes over to that point where the will, the whole human being is stimulated in his relation to life from that what spiritual science can give. Then egoism stops, then the worlds are woken in the human being that carry him beyond his narrow vicinity, which consist of pondering in his soul. Then the human being is directed away from himself just to other human beings. An individual-moral feeling changes into the social feeling from which then the moral action arises. With it, we touch something that deeply penetrates into the crisis of our time. At the same time, we touch an area, in which, although it is so burning, the biggest ambiguity prevails. While I go over to the social area, I would like to point introductorily to the most important. One has the impression very easily if one speaks how the human being attains such supersensible knowledge: this is something very remote; this is something that is very strange to the usual life on earth. That is not completely true. If one does not misuse the expression, one may say, the owner of supersensible knowledge is just a seer. Then one can have the opinion, he is proud to have acquired something that, otherwise, all other human beings do not have. However, this is not true. Every human being is in one area always—save that one does not know it in the usual life that one cannot even connect a sense with it if it is stated—, in the spiritual condition, which one can appropriate for the other areas of spiritual science only laboriously as I have characterised it the day before yesterday, so that you get to the supersensible knowledge. You are in one area always in this spiritual condition; else, you would be simply blind in this area. This is the one area if you enter just into a loving relationship to your fellow human beings. One considers the other human being from the same soul viewpoint—but just only the human being—from which you have to look if you want to have supersensible knowledge. However, you must develop the capacity first to cause the same situation in your soul concerning the other things, which the instinct or life simply causes if you face another human being with understanding love, with interest. In this case, you become clairvoyant in the usual life. It is just assigned to the human being in the usual life to become clairvoyant in this one case; for the other cases he has to appropriate the suitable abilities laboriously and methodically. The ability to face the fellow human with understanding, with interest, to become engrossed in the characteristic of the other human being forms the basis of the true social life in spite of all objections. Because the ability must be there instinctive in the human being if he wants to establish a relationship to the fellow human because it is the ability with which one manages just the most significant investigations of spiritual science, just spiritual science works on the social life. That knowledge, which one must appropriate for the supersensible world, reacts upon the social feeling and wakes real understanding for the fellow human. This is significant. Hence, just in that time the social demands originated in which on the other side scientific thinking celebrated the biggest triumphs with its intellectuality. Before the sixteenth century, we do not realise that the human being thought thoroughly, in particular not scientifically, about any social demand. The entire social life was instinctive. With the emergence of the scientific habitual ways of thinking, it becomes necessary to appropriate social concepts, to assert conscious social sensations. If we see where in the most radical way the social demands appear, in the industrial proletariat, we find that this proletariat has developed its habitual ways of thinking with the help of natural sciences. What the proletariat has experienced in the externally realised scientific way of thinking has generated the special way of dealing intellectually with the social demands. While just the position of the human being to his fellow humans that is related to clairvoyance was forced back, the social element withdrew substantially during the last centuries. Because it has withdrawn, because the social instincts did no longer exist, the intellectual social demands originated. If we consider the human being not only concerning his physical body but if we become aware by spiritual science that he is as a soul in spiritual surroundings about which he knows nothing with his usual consciousness, then the whole human being splits up in the physical world and the spiritual world. He splits up in a peculiar way. If we consider our view of nature, natural sciences and that what is associated with them at first, what holds true? It is peculiar that all questions for that what natural sciences give originate from the spiritual. The questions come from the spirit; indeed, one can get them from the spirit as it was done in old times, or as in recent times the naturalists do, they can be taken as heritage from the times when they settled down instinctively in the human mind. What we observe experimenting is answer only in the area of natural sciences. Questions arise from the spirit. The answers are here in the physical realm. This is a very interesting connection. Because in old times an atavistic, instinctive spiritual life existed, scientific questions arose instinctively from the human soul. These questions were much more comprehensive than that what with scientific observations and experiments the human beings could obtain as answer. This ability to feel questions instinctively withdrew. The insight into the supersensible worlds did not yet exist; hence, one only had the heritage in the scientific questions just in the age in which one developed the methods of observing and experimenting et cetera. Someone who looks with understanding at natural sciences, finds out for himself that all the questions are handed down from old times and become paler and paler what impairs the answers. If spiritual science did not appear that can deliver new questions for natural sciences from the spiritual world, so that that which the observation finds experimentally can be lighted up properly, one would have gradually to experience an entire paralysis of the scientific life in spite of any external methodical activity as you can already experience it very clearly today if you only have sense of it. This holds true with reference to the view of nature. With reference to the social and moral life, the reverse holds true. The questions, the demands manifest within the physical world; and only within the spiritual world, the answers arise. There the reverse holds true. The human being had an instinctive spiritual life once that gave the answers from the spirit to the demands, which the social moral life puts here in the physical world. He produced the moral and social maxims instinctively. The time of that is over. We live in the age where the human being has to change into the consciousness where the human being has progressed concerning intellectuality. However, this intellect works in its initial naivety in an instinctive way, I would like to say. Thus, the social questions, the social demands appeared at first. One can find the answers only, while one ascends to the world of the supersensible from which the answers can only come. For a real social science, we need the spiritual-scientific deepening because it will be able only to give these answers. Our age proves what I had just to say in this direction. We saw a dreadful disaster passing by during the last four and a half years. Today we see in vast areas of the earth spread what has arisen from that dreadful disaster which still contains something in its bosom that lets us look with concern at the next future. Somebody who observes these conditions impartially does not put a question in such a way as it is normally put in the abstract: what has this warlike disaster brought to the whole world, actually?—Someone who thinks spiritual-scientifically does not think in theories, not in abstractions, but points everywhere to realities. The results of this dreadful disaster appear in that what has remained now. The temporary outcome of this disaster has removed a veil, and now the truth appears naked in Eastern Europe and Central Europe and probably also in other areas. What appears now as social chaos, was also there before, it was only covered. The disaster has only removed the veil. We see that what exists as social demands and what cries for answers. Those who go forward after the pattern of scientific concepts just from the sensory life will not give these answers, but only the sources of spiritual life can give these answers. This also results from the immediate observation if one studies conscientiously and carefully what comes to light so hopeless in this or that point, with these or those leaders of the today's social chaos because they are only robbing. What can these leaders of the today's social chaos have only in mind? They believe to overcome old classes; however, they have only borrowed the thoughts of these classes. They believe to create a new human life, but they are able to do that only with the thoughts that they have borrowed from the old human life. Karl Marx himself said mocking about the philosophers, they would always have been busy only to arrange life with thoughts; however, it would matter to transform life with thoughts. If he had thought that through to the end, if he had done the step from the physical life to the supersensible, he would still have had to say something else. Then, however, something quite different would have resulted. Then he would have had to say, the previous thoughts are only suitable to let the physical life in such a way as it is; if one wants to transform this life and find answers to the questions that originate from the social chaos, then one needs other thoughts; since the old ones show that they cannot transform life. Such a spirit like Karl Marx may rail against bourgeoisie or criticise it for long. It is evident to the proletarian of course. One must have experienced how it is evident to the proletarian. For years, I worked as a teacher at a school of the social-democratic party for workers. I know what makes sense to the today's proletarian; I had opportunity to get to know what lives in these souls. Big parts of the population do not have any idea of that today. However, humanity, the proletariat too, has to get to know that what it really concerns, at first. Since we live in an age that can no longer get along with the old instincts from which the moral and social life originated that must change rather into a clear supersensible knowledge of the answers to the social and moral questions. With it, one arrives again at that viewpoint of reality that got lost to humanity, which believes today just to be in reality. Humanity appears sometimes as someone who sees a horseshoe-shaped iron and to whom someone says. that horseshoe-shaped iron is a magnet.—Oh, says the first one, this is only iron, with it I shoe my horse.—He does not believe in the reality of that what he does not see with his eyes. Thus, it is the same as with the materialist thinking. One believes in something abstract if one just believes to look into reality. One is far away from reality because that belongs to reality what forms the basis of the things, the processes and the beings as a spiritual supersensible life. One diverges from reality with his habitual ways of thinking, sensations, and will impulses; one diverges from the moral and social life if one does not allow to be impregnated with spirit. While with instinctive faith people lived in clear conditions that showed them how everything is connected with reality, today they live in a world order that has been complicated in which in many regards they do not even search the immediate relationship to reality. The human being knows at first what a farm product is what cabbage or wheat are, and which weight cabbage or wheat carry as products with the human being. He still knows what human work means from human being to human being; he still knows what a spiritual achievement means because he wants to accept spiritual achievements to satisfy his soul needs. As long as the human being is within the vicinity of such things, he connects the mental pictures which he obtains and that what he makes of life as a result of these mental pictures, with the immediate reality. However, life has become more complex, and today there are many things in the outer life for which the human being hardly has the possibility to remember even how these things are connected with the immediate reality. As odd as it sounds, it holds true for the most important things. What does the human being know how capital, interest, annuity, money or even loan are associated with that what goes forward by capital, by annuity, by interest, by loan, by money in the life in which he lives? The human being gives piece of money from one hand to the other; he uses the bank transfer, the annuity for his life. Where does he have the possibility today to remember, what it means: passing money from one hand to another that one thereby lets pass an amount of labour power from one hand to the other. One needs only to remind of something else to realise how people have lost the connection with reality. The official economists are often so helpless if they want to find social impulses; they can answer to the question just as little what money is in the social process. There are so-called “metalists” (gold standard) and “nominalists” (paper money) in the economics concerning money. The metalists state that the metal value comes into question. The nominalists state that only the assessment which the state or other corporations ascribe to the concerning piece of money is important in the social life without considering the metal value. Science does not know at all how these things are connected with reality. Just on this field, it becomes apparent how time urges to find reality again. Spiritual science can give the human beings another kind of mental mobility and spiritual necessity. It is true that many people regard spiritual science as difficult because they have to exert themselves; today one does not like to exert himself mentally. If one observes scientifically, does experiments, one observes the processes, and the thinking is only something like a concomitant. This proceeds parallel to the outer processes. One likes this generally today in the time of cinemas where one likes something to be shown that one only accompanies with thinking; where one does not need to think very much. Indeed, spiritual science already demands efforts, soul activity. That is why it is hard put to become established, why it finds so many opponents. However, there is also the counter-image. Spiritual science makes the concepts nimble, so that they penetrate into reality. Hence, spiritual science can establish order just in those fields of knowledge that lead by the only accompanying thinking to nothing right, in particular in the economics, in the social science and in the social life. It will be able to go the long ways that lead from such things like money, capital, interest, annuity, loan to reality. Indeed, there are many people who say, spiritual science should deal with spiritual things and not aim at such materialist things like capital, interest, annuity, loan et cetera. One has to overcome just this if one soars spiritual heights. This may be quite right on one side, nevertheless, it satisfies, at least for this life on earth, selfish instincts of the human being only. It matters that spiritual science can be just the most practical for this human life. Thus, I would especially like to point to one thing because time presses. Someone who knows the proletarian thinking knows that one statement of Marxism particularly makes sense to proletarians. Karl Marx could make plausible to the people that there are goods on the world market, which are bought after supply and demand. There is a certain law. However, there is also a special commodity because of the modern social order, the human labour power, which the enterpriser buys. Other people have other goods that they bring to the market and sell, objects that satisfy human needs. The proletarian cannot sell such things; he can sell his labour power only. He carries that to the market, it is bought from him only for so much money as it is just necessary to support himself and his family. He receives only so much that he can carve out his existence, while the enterprisers pocket the surplus value—this is the Marxist term—or it is transferred into the remaining social circulation. The sensation that he has to carry his labour power to market lives in the proletarian, this is that what he just wants to abolish by the so-called socialisation of the means of production. This idea will cause big moral detrimental effects. It must be pointed to it with that mental capacity, which is attained by the sense of reality which spiritual science gives that not in the way, as it appears with Auguste Comte (1798-1857, French philosopher, sociologist), but in a quite different way something is as trend in the development of humanity that demands the reorganisation of something particular. This is in such a way: we can look back at the Greek culture that was connected with slavery. Slavery disappeared gradually. What was transferred to the other person by slavery? The whole human being. This also applies to serfage where almost the whole human being was transferred to the other. This was contained in the human development and corresponded to the instincts of that time. If one knows on one side that Plato regarded slavery as necessary, one has to imagine as compensation what is always connected with it that the slave did not regard slavery out of his instincts, his patriarchal feeling as that which we feel in the retrospect today. At that time, slavery was a normal phenomenon of the human evolution. The trend of the development is that the human being gives away less and less from himself; as a slave he gave away himself, then the time came where his labour power is bought from him like a commodity. It will be also overcome that the human being gives away only a part of his being, his labour power. This feeling that this has to be overcome expresses itself while the proletarian appreciates the Marxist theory of labour power as a commodity et cetera. However, it holds true that first the whole human being, then his labour power, and now as a third, something else is transferred from one human being to the other. The social life will be abolished, but something else replaces it. If one understands the social reality once in such a way that one can speak of this other, then one will find understanding if one has the new thoughts that are coming up to meet the social life. The spiritual-scientific Intuition says to us, we live in the time in which the social structure of humanity wants to change in such a way that one cannot exchange the labour power for any means which one also gives away for an objective commodity, but that the labour power is freely used while the human being is put in a certain social position which the human society assigns to him, and he also provides his time to the human society. At first, it was the whole human being who had to sell himself or who was sold; then the human labour power; and as the third, it is time and place. In certain areas, it is already this way. It is not in such a way that we can say, we ourselves who we are in other life positions than a proletarian and give away our labour power, our achievements or anything else. We are not paid for our labour power, but we are paid at most for the fact that we work at a certain place and sacrifice our power to humanity for some time. That what does no longer belong to the human being himself, his social position which today more or less is determined by the social structure only with the officials—but that leads to other detrimental effects—this will replace payment and labour power which changes into a commodity. You realise that if you observe the future human development from the spiritual impulses. If you understand that, you will work in such a way—if one speaks from authoritative place and works in the institutions of the public life—that one aims, for example, at such social principle, and then one will be coming up to meet what lives as a social demand today in humanity. Time presses, and I cannot state more from the spiritual-scientific viewpoint. One may well say, in the proletarians' heads something else lives now, just the Marxist ideas; one is concerned with these people. No! I myself who taught for years among these people was not expelled by these people, but by their leaders against the will of the students. These leaders, however, will not be leaders for long. That what remained as a desert after this war disaster and on which these leaders can work for a while will see these leaders disappearing. Since they will be able to do nothing with their ideas. With the trust in the leaders' the trust in the old ideas will get lost. One would like to long that—if the possibility is there—ears will be there to hear the real social ideas that then enough people will be there who are inclined to bring in such social ideas really in humanity instead of those who are robbing today—like Lenin (1870-1924), Trotsky (Leon T., 1879-1940) and others—and bring destruction and death on humanity. One has to regard this above all. I wanted only to indicate what one could elaborate for other fields of the social life, I wanted to indicate it only, so that one understands fundamentally that spiritual science is coming up to meet the most important demands of the present social life. At the end, I would still like to point out that spiritual science also wants to find in the third area, in the religious life what just a goal in this field is. One can easily hear the objection: this is a sectarian movement, it wants to found a new religion—and the like. Spiritual science wants to form neither a sect nor any new religion. It wants to be the science that is demanded from the impulse of time itself. It is not in contrast to natural sciences, but it takes the view that has been inaugurated just by the scientific direction. However, something else holds true. Spiritual science tries to understand the religious needs in the way according to the demands of the present how they will have to be understood now considering the changed conditions. Spiritual science wants to be a science. Science leads always away from the human individuality even if it puts the individual across in moral and social area. However, as a science, as a knowledge, it makes the human being unselfish, leads to the universal. However, for his full person-hood the human being always needs an immediately individual relationship to the supersensible that he can realise immediately subjectively. The human being needs not only the connection with the supersensible world, as well as spiritual science can offer it, the human being needs the connection with the religious founders by the cult, the sacraments et cetera and with the outer sense-perceptible development of decades and centuries which are connected with the religious founders and the outer manifestations. Spiritual science will deepen this spiritually and show how the supersensible manifesting in the sense-perceptible world appears if one penetrates it with supersensible knowledge. Spiritual science will prepare the human being in modern sense to have religious needs. Nevertheless, these religious needs can only be satisfied while one looks at the old religions. It was strangely enough a Catholic cardinal, Newman (John Henry N., 1801-1890), who said at his investiture in Rome, he sees no other salvation for the Catholic Church than a new revelation.—The Catholic cardinal showed with it only that he could not take the previous position of the human being to the old revelation because he announced just what should come up by spiritual science. It takes the world in its reality, and it knows that laws appear in the whole human development as well as in the single human being. These development laws are in such a way that that which the human being experienced at the age of 50 years cannot be a repetition of that what he experienced, for example, at the age of 25 years. One cannot experience the same at the age of 50 years in the same spiritual condition what one has experienced at the age of 25 years. To every age something else appertains and in other form. Well, the development in the course of humanity is something else. It is not the same as with the single human being, and it is amateurish and wrong to search the analogies between the single human being and the historical development. However, spiritual science finds such laws after which the entire humanity develops and knows that the religions were founded in particular ages which are far behind us that that was summarised in Christianity what was distributed in the other religions that Christianity as a religion is in certain sense the end of the religious forms that one has not to wait for a new revelation in the sense of Cardinal Newman, but that one can understand only that revelation transformed in higher sense which appeared in Christianity as a religion among other religious revelations. Just because spiritual science thinks in the sense of reality, it does not want to found a new religion. It would do the same with it, as if it wanted to make a 50-year-old human being again 30 years old. Since the kind to position itself to the religious revelation changes with time, so that new inner bases have to be created. Spiritual science creates these new inner bases for the modern human being and his demands that remain unaware to many people. The official representatives fear or fear supposedly that spiritual science could make the human being irreligious, they should ask themselves above all whether they themselves do not contribute more to irreligion than spiritual science does which will lead the human beings back again to the religious life in the right way. Somebody who wants to retain the religious life as religious confession on a certain level does not want that that pushes its way through which has to push its way through necessarily from the new spiritual condition of the human beings. He is rather an opponent of religion, even if he appears as a priest, than someone who asks himself, how can the human being with his deepened inside also develop that trait again in his soul that makes him understand the religious life? Spiritual science is no religion but science of the supersensible life. Therefore, it leads the human being also to deepening those instincts with which the religious life that has decreased under the influence of the knowledge of nature becomes again living and fertile. |
| 78. Anthroposophy's Contribution to the Most Urgent Needs of Our Time
05 Sep 1921, Stuttgart Tr. F. Hough Rudolf Steiner |
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| The title of this series of lectures is: Anthroposophy, Root and Fruit. The lectures were published in German as: Anthroposophie, ihre Erkenntniswurzeln und Lebensfruchte. |
| This lecture appears in the book: Fruits of Anthroposophy. The most significant question in the spiritual life of our time, which casts its shadow over the whole of our culture, is of such a nature that it already affects every man's feeling life to some extent. |
| So I believed I must speak in The Philosophy of Freedom of how moral human worth shines out in fullest splendour when it is one with human freedom, and is rooted in true human love. For one can show by means of anthroposophy how this love of duty can become in the widest sense love for mankind and therefore, as we will further consider, can become a true ferment in the social life. |
| 78. Anthroposophy's Contribution to the Most Urgent Needs of Our Time
05 Sep 1921, Stuttgart Tr. F. Hough Rudolf Steiner |
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The most significant question in the spiritual life of our time, which casts its shadow over the whole of our culture, is of such a nature that it already affects every man's feeling life to some extent. Yet its answer can only be found on the path leading from ordinary objective knowledge to super-sensible cognition by means of Imagination, Inspiration and Intuition. Each soul must ask himself this significant question, when, in genuine concern for the being of man, he contrasts, with a complete lack of bias, the conception of the moral, ethical life that is possible today, with the interpretation of life that stems with good reason from a natural scientific world conception. What is more, in our day the question of morality is of the greatest urgency because we live in that period of time when what is ethical is at the same time social, and today every man experience the urgency of the social question. Let us consider what the soul learns about existence in conformity with today's thinking as it is shaped by natural science. In the attempt to reach a true natural science, man is led to consider the objects of the world in their necessity, in their causal connections. This results in a world outlook which must necessarily extend these causal connections to comprise everything that is within the world order, including man. Today, in so far as we wish to understand man by means of natural science, we take it as a foregone conclusion that we apply that same cognition that we are accustomed to use when considering natural appearances outside man, and we then attempt to extend in more or less audacious hypotheses, what natural science has learnt from what is lying nearest to us, that we are able to observe, to cover world facts and world beings. We construct hypotheses about the beginning and the end of the world, out of our natural scientific theories of knowledge. Then we come with this natural scientific knowledge to the point where if we are consistent we must say, ‘We may not come to a halt before human freedom.’ I have already indicated this problem. A man who seeks a strictly uniform explanation of the world, simply out of a desire for consistency, and has to decide between assuming a freedom which is really given empirically in immediate human experience, and that all-powerful natural necessity which must be deduced from what mankind has learned through established ways of thinking and knowing, will opt for natural necessity. He will declare the experience of freedom to be an illusion, and will extend the area of natural necessity to include the most intimate experiences of the human being, so that mankind will be fully enmeshed in the web of natural necessity. And in the same way he will assess in the light of this hypothetical world conception the nature of the beginning and the end of the earth. He takes those laws and interconnections produced by physics and chemistry etc., and builds out of them such hypotheses as the nebular hypothesis, that is, the Kant-Laplace theory of the beginning of the earth. Then, out of the second principle, the teaching about mechanical heat, he constructs hypotheses about the heat death in which the earth will perish. In this way one can extend into the most intimate details of the human being, as well as to the boundaries of the world-all, the contemporary explanation of natural appearances, as they surround us in the world in which we wander between birth and death, without disputing its fruitfulness. But then, if we reach a certain degree of self-perception, we ask ourselves, “In that case, wherein lies the dignity of man, wherein exists true human worth?” Here we come to the point where we turn our gaze to the moral world, to that which seems to be an ethical, moral impulse. We feel that it is only in carrying out a moral ideal, permeated with religious fervour, that we can achieve an existence fully worthy of mankind. We could not call ourselves fully human if we did not think that motive was active in us which we describe as ‘moral’, which streams into the social life, and seems to be inwardly vibrating in us with what we call the Divine in the world order. But for a modern man who in all honesty adopts the viewpoint from which he surveys mechanical causality, the necessary order of nature, there is no bridge leading from the natural order, which according to a certain way of knowledge must include man himself, to that other order, which is moral, and which is bound up with what man must consider to be his entire dignity, his entire worth. In most recent times, to be sure, a certain expedient has been devised in order to bridge this chasm which has opened up between the two components of our human make-up. It has been said that we can only regard as truly scientific that which will explain the whole world in terms of natural necessity, including man, and including the beginning and the end of the world. And from this standpoint scientific validity is given to nothing that cannot be absorbed without contradiction into a thinking spun out of this natural order. But yet, a realm has been established with an entirely different kind of certainty, with the certainty of belief. Man looks within on that which shines in us as a moral light, and says to himself. “No scientific knowledge can guarantee in any way the significance of this moral sphere, but man must find within himself a certainty of belief. He must recognise out of the Subjective that in a certain way his Being is connected with that realm which is permeated with moral necessity.” At first, many people may well find reassurance if they discriminate clearly between what man can know and what he can believe, and can persuade themselves that this separation gives a certain comfort, a feeling of security in life. But if we probe deeply enough, not with a partial thinking, but with all that thought can experience if it unites itself with the full power of the human soul and spirit, then we must come to the following conclusion: if the realm of natural necessity is as man has grown accustomed to consider it in the course of the last hundred years, then in the face of this there is no possibility of preserving the realm of morality. This must be said, because the moral realm simply shows nowhere the power to be a match for the realm of natural order. We need only consider how the thought must arise with a certain inner justification out of the contemplation of heat entropy—I say expressly, must arise—that once all the remaining earth forces have changed into heat, this heat cannot change itself back into any other force, and that then the earth as such will succumb to what is called ‘the heat death.’ Thus there is no possibility for an honest thinker who must hold fast to the current way of thinking about natural causality, other than to say to himself: of this earth which has succumbed to heat death there remains a huge field of corpses, not only including all men but with them all moral ideals. They must disappear into the lifeless, if, in recognising the sole validity of natural necessity we accept that the earth is to succumb to ‘the heat death.’ For a man who faces the world without prejudice, this reflection produces an experience that even takes from him the certainty of a moral world order, and above all leaves him in a situation where he must see the world as split asunder, so that he can only say to himself: “Moral ideas rise up out of natural necessity like foam bubbles, and like foam bubbles, they vanish.” For, according to natural necessity, what is connected in the innermost being of man with human worth and dignity cannot be acknowledged as having real existence. How shall I say? Granted that one accepts a formal division between knowledge and belief, yet, even if one has already found a certainty of belief, against the necessary exactions of science, certainty of belief can give no inner guarantee for the reality of what is moral. This not only affects man's theoretical ideas. If a man intends to live honestly, he must work with it into his deepest world experiences, and there take hold of it through events which lie deep in the subconscious, disturbing that which gives inner security, which makes it possible for a man to have a stable connection with the world, not only by means of thinking but also through experience. And a man who has a feeling for such connections could say to himself: What is called up in such an uncanny way out of the depths of human life in this twentieth century, like a devastating wave, proceeds when all is said and done out of the harmony—or one could say the disharmony—of all that the individual has experienced about himself. For our frightful catastrophic time is born finally out of the innermost condition of the human heart and soul. Such an inner division as I have described to you does not appear only on the surface of the soul-life, as a theoretic world-conception. It sinks down to the depths out of which comes the instinctive life, the life of conscience. And so this dichotomy throws up into the world-order discrepant feelings, disorder, producing a framework for what is unsocial rather than fostering what is more truly social. Certainly, many men do not yet give full weight to what I have described today. But the consequences can already be foreseen, if we follow with only a little lack of prejudice the trend of human spiritual development in the last centuries, and especially in very recent times, and see to what moral exhaustion, to what kind of social form this division in the human soul must lead in the very near future. An answer will never be found to the burning question, ‘Why do we live in such distressing times?’ if one does not try to seek the foundation man has need of in the depths of human life itself. Confronting what I have here described is that knowledge of the world which may be striven for through anthroposophical spiritual science, by means of Imagination, Inspiration and Intuition. We shall see how anthroposophical spiritual science enables man to come to terms with what I have shown today to be the most urgent problem of the present and the near future, and what precisely in this way it seems to him that he will be able to know. I have shown you the path which spiritual science takes by means of Imagination, Inspiration and Intuition. I cannot give each exercise here in detail, but you can find this in my books which I have often mentioned here. I have drawn attention to the way in which each exercise on the path to imaginative knowledge gives the soul a conscious content in the same way as our everyday consciousness is impregnated with a content when it lives in memory. Behind what rises up in the form of memories, consciously or unconsciously invoked, lies our physical and etheric organisation. What takes place there, rises up into consciousness. What our physical organisation produces in our ordinary memory is brought about in a purely soul-spiritual way through carrying out the exercises given in my books. Through them one reaches ideas, which in a purely formal way are like memory ideas, but which refer to an outer objective content, not to an entirely personal experience. By this means we prepare ourselves through Imagination for the knowledge of a truly objective spiritual world. Then, in order to reach to Inspiration, we must not only practise in a soul-spiritual way the production of ideas which are like remembered thoughts, but we must work in such a way that the spirit-soul also practises forgetting, to some extent, as it were throwing out these imaginations from the consciousness which has been now attained. We must practise no longer having, yes, the unreal imaginations. We must deliberately distance them from our consciousness, so that, if I may so express it, this consciousness has a certain emptiness. If we reach this stage, then by means of all these practices we are able to strengthen the Ego to the point where we find ourselves within the manifestations of an objective, super-sensible world. In place of the former subjective imaginations, objective imaginations light up in our consciousness, and this lighting up of such objective Imaginations which in fact do not come from ourselves, but from spiritual objectivity, this is in reality Inspiration. We reach right to the boundary of the super-sensible, that reveals itself to us in its outer appearance through these Imaginations. Exactly in the same way as in our sense-perceptible world, if we only let the whole man be active in sense perception, we convince ourselves through the reality of this sense world, of the underlying objective outer world, so now the Imaginations we have attained give us plenary conviction of the super-sensible world whose expression they are. Now it is a question of pursuing this way of knowledge to the next stage. This we reach in that we not only push the forgetting so far that we throw out the Imaginations, but we go yet a stage further. When a man reaches the Imaginative world, he sees first his own life in its progression. He lives consciously not only in the moment, but in the whole of his life as far back as to his birth. If he is then able to go still further back, through Inspiration, then he extends his survey to the life before birth, as far as to the perception of a super-sensible world out of which he came into the sense world through birth or conception. The spiritual field of vision extends over that world which we have lived through before birth and conception and shall live through when we have gone through the Portal of death. This prospect of the super-sensible world to which we belong is reached by means of Inspired cognition. If we now strive even further, not only to expunge those Imaginations whose details remain within the horizon of the Imaginative world but also to wipe out the imagination of our whole life as man, that means, if we have acquired the forces to thrust out what is united with our Ego through the experiences we have had since our birth, and what is also added to it through the fact that the horizon has widened to include a spiritual world, then we have reached the stage not of weakening our Ego, but, just through forgetting ourselves, of first really and truly strengthening it. And through this we come gradually into the reality of the spiritual, the super-sensible world. We ourselves live together with the reality of the super-sensible world. We reach the point of recognising the appearance of previous earth lives as something which our Ego shows us at different stages. Then, if we have developed the capacity to forget this Ego in its present stage, that means, to thrust out its imaginative content, we reach the stage of perceiving the eternal Ego. The matters discussed by anthroposophical spiritual science are not drawn out of some blue haze of mysticism, rather the way to reach this particular knowledge can be indicated step by step. It is in no sense an outer way. It is inward in its entire journey, but it is such that it leads to the perception of a truly objective yet super-sensible reality. And in that we raise ourselves in this way to real intuitive knowledge, we first obtain a true insight into what is in fact our own thinking, our ideation, that we employ in ordinary life, with which we mix our sense-perceptions. One reaches to full, complete reality when to a certain extent one can create an idea for oneself, an empirical idea, in the way I have attempted to describe in my book The Philosophy of Freedom. There I have tried to make known that pure thinking, that very thinking that can live in us before we have fully united the thinking with some outer perception. I have shown that this pure thinking itself can be perceived as an inner soul content. But what is in accordance with its being first lets itself be known when true intuition enters the soul through the higher way of knowledge. Then a man can certainly penetrate into his own thinking. Then he lives for the first time within his own thoughts, by means of intuition, for this intuition arises through the fact that a man lives within the super-sensible with his own being, that he plunges into the super-sensible. And so one learns to recognise something, the experience of which is a kind of destiny of knowledge. One experiences something that is full of potency, if one lives intuitively in the Nature of knowing. One understands then how man is organised materially as man; one learns to know to what extent this material organisation is in control; but one perceives also through intuition that this control only extends so far as to serve as a support, at most a ground out of which thinking can unfold itself, but that the material process itself must be broken down where true thinking appears. To the same degree in which the material events can be reduced can that gain ground in us which now occupies the place where matter is destroyed, that is, thinking, ideation. I know all the objections that can be brought against the proposition that I put forward here, but intuitive knowledge leads one to realise that in the place where thinking unfolds itself a nothingness of material can be seen. It leads one so far as to say, ‘In that I think, I am not, if I allow the material being, that as a rule man regards as authoritative, to be considered the only being to have validity.’ First matter must withdraw itself from the organism and make room for the thoughts, the ideas, then these thoughts and ideas can develop within man. Thus, in that place where we perceive thinking in its reality, we see the destruction of material existence. Therein we perceive how matter goes over into nothingness. Here is where we stand on the boundary of the laws of the conservation of matter and energy. One must recognise how far these laws of matter and energy extend, so that one can summon up the courage to contradict them when this is necessary. One can never penetrate the nature of thinking in an unprejudiced way to the place where matter destroys itself, if one acknowledges the law of conservation to be absolute, if one does not know that what prevails in the sphere which we survey outwardly in the physical and chemical fields etc., is yet not valid where our thinking takes place on the platform of our human organisation. If it were not necessary out of a certain basis to place this knowledge before the world today, one would not expose oneself to all the mockery and objections that must come quite understandably from those who, according to well-known hypotheses, regard the laws of the conservation of matter and energy as absolute, valid without exception. But just as through Intuition one learns to know the relationship between thinking and the matter which surrounds us in the physical world, so through intuition one learns to recognise the connection of Inspiration, that Inspiration which is so powerful in Spirit, with the human feeling and rhythmic system. In the nerve-sense being physical substance is annihilated. By this means the nerve-sense system can be the basis for thinking, for ideation. The second system in man is the rhythmic system. With this the feeling life is psychically connected, as is the thinking life with the nerve-sense system. The connection of the objective world outside man which we approach through Inspiration shows us that through Inspiration we become aware of a World Being which plays into us as the sense world plays into us through thinking. This inspired world plays into us through the breathing process, which carries its rhythm right into the brain processes and into the rest of the organism. Now one learns to recognise what lives within the human being as rhythm. This will not destroy matter, as in the case of the thinking process, but it will retard life so that it must for ever stimulate itself anew. The usual purely mechanical breathing rhythm provides an inner rhythmic basis for this retardation and renewal, which is certainly a two-fold process of breathing and feeling. When the soul-feeling events unite with the physical breathing rhythm we perceive this union as an Inspiration, as a Being which lives objectively in Inspiration and can be perceived through Intuition. In short we learn in this way to recognise the whole connection between the feeling and the rhythmic system in man. We recognise that here a complete annulment of matter does not take place as in the nerve system, but there is a damping down of matter. Thus we learn step by step to ‘see through’ the human being. And in this way we look into the feeling life of man and see what can only be there through the fact that in the rhythmic events life can always be held back and will stimulate itself anew. Thus we see a second power working in the human being, in that we perceive the harmony of the slowing down and the renewal of life. We see the significance of man's entire rhythmic life, and how it is bound up with his whole being, body and soul. And as we survey this second element in man, it will certainly become clear to us that man bears in himself a real force, which is in rhythmic interchange with an outer force active in the super-sensible. And we could also survey in a similar way the metabolic limb system. In that we raise ourselves to Inspiration, Intuition and Imagination we see, soul-spiritually, what is active in man as a real though unconscious force. Our customary objective knowledge gives us only the forms. Through it we are as it were only observers of the world. That, however, which we reach through Imagination, Intuition and Inspiration we have first as a free inner soul product, obtained from super-sensible knowledge, from something which is objective in man, through which we can see clearly how the human will works in moral deeds. If we have first recognised that pure thinking involves a breaking down of matter, and is connected above all with a death-bringing process, through and through a process working in matter in a backward direction, then one comes to the point of being able to recognise that everything which appears as soul-willing is connected with the up-building processes, the processes of growth. These growths, these up-building processes, the activities of the organs and the reproductive process in us, damp down our ordinary consciousness of the depths of the human organism, and the will arises out of those depths of the human being to which the ordinary consciousness does not reach. Thus, as thinking lives in the death process, willing lives in what is growing, thriving, fructifying. We then perceive further, through Intuition, how out of the digestive system, through the will when it has its motive in pure thinking, substance in the human organism is pushed into the place where the breaking down process takes place. Thinking as such breaks down, but willing builds up. Indeed this building up activity is such that from the beginning of life right up to death this process is latent in the human organism. An up-building process is certainly there. In that we bring our moral motives, in the sense of my The Philosophy of Freedom to true, free moral intuition, we live such a human life that, out of its organism, through the will process substance is placed where substance has been destroyed. Man becomes inwardly creative, inwardly up-building. In other words, we see within the cosmos, in the human organism, nothingness filled with new creating in a fully material sense. This means nothing else than that in so far as a man consistently follows the way of anthroposophical knowledge he reaches the stage where within man the pure moral ideals are world-building forces reaching right into materiality. Here we have certainly a place where the moral world itself becomes creative, where something arises out of human morality which guarantees its own reality since it bears itself within itself, since it creates itself. And then we learn through Intuition really to know the outer world. We see how the mineral kingdom is caught up in a death-bringing process, a wasting-away that we have well learned to recognise as a corresponding process in our own thinking. And in the same way we learn to recognise how this wasting-away process draws into itself plant and animal life. Then we do not look to a heat death (an idea which has validity within certain limits, but is somewhat one-sided), but we look to the wasting-away of the entire world, which is permeated with minerality, and which is all around us. We see this, which we recognise as the world of causal necessity, in its transitoriness, and we recognise the world which we build up out of pure moral ideas as that which arises from the ground of the other, dying world.1 In other words, we now recognise how the moral world is connected with the world order of physical causality. We have in the pure moral will of the human being something which conquers causality in man, and therefore for the whole world. Whoever thinks honestly about the causal explanation of nature finds in its domain no place in the world where it does not prevail. And because it prevails, a power must arise which destroys its validity. This is the moral world, recognised within the general nature Of man, which contains within itself the power to break through natural causality, not, to be sure, through working miracles, but through a course of development. For that which finds a place within the human being where causality can be destroyed, sets itself there within him as a means of destroying causality. It is of prime significance for the world of the future. Nevertheless, we now see here the reality of human willing which enters into an alliance with pure thinking. For through it we obtain—and this is the most beautiful life fruit of anthroposophical scientific knowledge—an insight into the value of man in the cosmos, through which we also can feel the dignity, the high office of man within the cosmos. Things in the world are not so interrelated as with our abstract ideas we often think they are. No, they cohere as realities, and one powerful reality is the following. It is true that not everyone today is able as yet to attain to Imagination, Inspiration and Intuition. But as spiritual investigators we take with us through all these stages of knowledge that thinking which develops one thought out of another with inner necessity. This thinking each man can experience now if he will give himself freely to it. And it stems from this, that the results of spiritual knowledge, when once they are found, can always be proved afterwards, by means of pure thinking, since the spiritual investigator takes this pure thinking into the whole of his life of ideation. Knowledge of human worth, feeling for human dignity, willing in love for humanity: These are the most beautiful life fruits nurtured in man when he assimilates what is bestowed on him by spiritual science. For this spiritual science works through the will, so that it can reach up to what I have described in my Philosophy of Freedom as moral intuition. And its power streams into human life as the moral ideal. The moral intuitions are gradually permeated with what indeed is love, so that we can become men who act freely out of love springing from our individuality. Thereby Spiritual Science approaches an ideal stemming from Goethe's time. It spoke most clearly through his friend Schiller. When Schiller familiarised himself with Kantian philosophy, he learnt much from Kant about theoretic philosophy, but he could not always accept Kant's moral philosophy. In this Kantian moral philosophy Schiller found a numbing conception of duty, presented by Kant in such a way that duty seemed to stand there in its own right as a natural power, working compulsively on man. Schiller experienced the worth and dignity of man, and would not accept the idea that to be virtuous a man must submit to spiritual compulsion. Schiller gave utterance to this beautiful saying: ‘Gladly do I serve my friend, yet, alas, I act from inclination, so it often vexes me that I am not dutiful.’ For in the Kantian sense, Schiller meant, one must even try first to suppress all liking for one's friend, and then do what one does for him out of a rigid conception of duty. That the connection of man with morality must be other than this, Schiller revealed as far as it was possible to do so in his time, in his Letters concerning the Aesthetic Education of Mankind, where he wished to show how duty must sink down so that it becomes inclination, how inclination must rise up so that the content of duty becomes congenial. Duty must sink down, natural instinct must rise up in free men, who do out of their inclination what benefits the whole of humanity. And in that man looks for where moral intuition is rooted in the human being, in that he looks for what is the real driving, ethical motive in moral intuition, he finds it at its highest in love purified by spirit. There, where this love has become spiritual, there it draws into itself moral intuitions; and a man is moral because he loves duty, because it is something that comes out of the Individuality itself as a directly active power. It was this that brought me, in The Philosophy of Freedom, to place against the Kantian moral philosophy a direct antithesis drawn from Anthroposophy. The Kantian thesis says: ‘Duty! Thou sublime and mighty name, that dost embrace nothing charming or ingratiating, but requirest submission,’ thou that ‘settest up a law ... before which all inclinations are dumb, even though they secretly work against it.’ Through such a conception of duty man can never be so spiritualized in his inmost being that he becomes a free creator of his moral activity. Out of this attempt to penetrate the human being by means of anthroposophical knowledge of man, I placed in my Philosophy of Freedom against this stiff Kantian idea what you find there: ‘Freedom, thou friendly, human name, beloved of all who are virtuous, in thee is contained what my humanity values most, which makes me servant to none, thou who settest up no law, but awaitest what my virtuous love itself will recognise as a law because it feels itself unfree against every law that is forced upon it.’ So I believed I must speak in The Philosophy of Freedom of how moral human worth shines out in fullest splendour when it is one with human freedom, and is rooted in true human love. For one can show by means of anthroposophy how this love of duty can become in the widest sense love for mankind and therefore, as we will further consider, can become a true ferment in the social life. What arises today as the most urgent, the most hotly discussed social question can only be resolved if man bestirs himself to recognise the connection between freedom, love, the human being, spiritual and natural necessity.
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| 115. Wisdom of Man, of the Soul, and of the Spirit: The Position of Anthroposophy in Relation to Theosophy and Anthropology
23 Oct 1909, Berlin Tr. Samuel P. Lockwood, Loni Lockwood Rudolf Steiner |
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| Just such a skeleton of concepts was all that the philosophers of the nineteenth century had to work with when they took up what may be called anthroposophy. The term actually occurred. Robert Zimmermann wrote a so-called Anthroposophy, but he constructed it of arid, empty concepts. |
| Beginning with the study of the human senses, we at once find anthroposophy invading the territory of anthropology, for anthroposophy must invariably start from all that the senses tell us is real. |
| This true nature of the senses is the first chapter of anthroposophy. |
| 115. Wisdom of Man, of the Soul, and of the Spirit: The Position of Anthroposophy in Relation to Theosophy and Anthropology
23 Oct 1909, Berlin Tr. Samuel P. Lockwood, Loni Lockwood Rudolf Steiner |
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Here in Berlin, as well as in other localities where our Society has spread, much has been discussed that concerns the comprehensive realm of theosophy, that emanates, so to speak, from the high regions of clairvoyant consciousness, and it is natural that a desire should have arisen to do something toward a serious and adequate substantiation of our spiritual current. The present General Assembly, which brings our members together here at the seventh anniversary of our German Section, may be taken as the proper occasion for contributing something toward strengthening the foundations of our cause. This I shall attempt to do at this time in the four lectures on Anthroposophy. The lectures in Kassel on The Gospel of St. John, those in Düsseldorf on the hierarchies, those in Basel on The Gospel of St. Luke, and those in Munich on the teachings of oriental theosophy, were all occasions for rising to high altitudes of spiritual research and for bringing back spiritual truths difficult of access. What occupied us there was theosophy and, at least in part, its ascent to exalted spiritual peaks of human cognition. It does not seem unjustifiable, given a gradually acquired feeling in the matter, to see something deeper in what is called the cyclical course of world events. At the time of our first General Assembly, when the German Section was founded, I delivered lectures to an audience composed only in part of theosophists; those lectures may be characterized as the historical chapter of anthroposophy. Now, after a lapse of seven years that constitute a cycle, the time seems ripe for speaking in a more comprehensive sense on the nature of anthroposophy. First, I should like to make clear through a comparison what should be understood by the term anthroposophy. If we wish to observe a section of country, together with all that is spread out there in the way of fields, meadows, woods, villages, roads, we can do so by going about from village to village, through streets and meadows and woods, and we will always have a small section of the whole region in view. Again, we can climb to a mountain top and from there overlook the whole landscape. The details will be indistinct for the ordinary eye, but we have a comprehensive view of the whole. That approximately describes the relation between what in ordinary life is called human cognition or human science, and what theosophy stands for. While the ordinary search for human knowledge goes about from detail to detail in the world of facts, theosophy ascends to a high vantage point. This extends the visible horizon, but without the employment of quite special means the possibility of seeing anything at all would vanish. In my book, Knowledge of the Higher Worlds and Its Attainment, is set forth how one can reach this ideal peak without losing the power of clear vision. But there is a third possibility, lying between the two described. It is to ascend part way, remaining half-way up. At the bottom you cannot survey the whole; you observe only details and see the top from below. At the top, everything is beneath you, and above you have only the divine heavens. In the middle you have something above and something below you, and you can compare the two views. Any comparison lags and limps, but all that was intended at the moment was to place before you the manner in which in the first instance theosophy differs from anthroposophy. The latter stands in the middle, the former on the summit: it is the point of departure that is different. Thus far the comparison is helpful, but it is inadequate in characterizing what follows. Devotion to theosophy necessitates rising above human points of view, above the middle, from self to higher self, and it implies the ability to see with the organs of this higher self. The peak attained by theosophy lies above man, ordinary human knowledge, below, and what lies half-way between, that is the human being himself: between nature and the spiritual world. What is above reaches down to him; he is permeated by the spirit. In contemplating the world from a purely human angle, he does not take his point of departure from the summit, but he can see it—see the spirit above. At the same time he sees what is merely nature beneath him; it reaches into him from below. There is a risk connected with theosophy; unless the above-mentioned means are employed to see with the higher self—not with the ordinary self—there is danger of losing contact with the human element, and this results in forfeiting the ability to see anything at all adequate, of recognizing reality below. This danger disappears, however, as soon as those means are employed. Then we can say that theosophy is what comes to light when the God within man says, “Let the God within you speak; what He reveals of the world is theosophy.” Take your stand between God and Nature and let the human being in you speak. Speak of what is beneath as well as what is above you, and you have anthroposophy. It is the wisdom spoken by man. This wisdom will prove an important fulcrum, a key to the whole realm of theosophy. After a period of immersion in theosophy, nothing could be more profitable than seriously to seek the firm center of gravity provided by anthroposophy. All that has been said so far can be historically substantiated in many directions. We have, for example, the science calling itself anthropology. As it is practised, anthropology comprises not only the human being, but everything pertaining to him; all that can be gleaned from nature, everything necessary for understanding man. This science is based on moving about among objects, passing from detail to detail, observing the human being under a microscope. In short, this science, which in the widest circles is regarded as the only one dealing authoritatively with man, takes its view from a point beneath human capacities. It is chained to the ground; it fails to employ all the faculties at the disposal of man, and for this reason it cannot solve the riddles of existence. Now contrast all this with what you encounter as theosophy. There one searches the most rarefied regions for answers to the burning questions of life. But all those who are unable to keep pace, whose standpoint is anthropology, consider theosophy an air-castle, lacking foundation. They are not able to understand how the soul can ascend step by step to that summit from which all is spread out beneath it. They cannot rise to the planes of imagination, inspiration, and intuition. They cannot ascend to the peak that is the final goal of human evolution. Thus we find anthropology on the lowest step, theosophy on the summit. What becomes of theosophy when it wants to reach the top but is not in a position to do so with the right means? We can find the answer in the historic example of the German theosophist, Solger, who lived from 1770–1819. Conceptually, his views are theosophical, but what means does he employ to attain the summit? Philosophical concepts, concepts of human cerebration long since sucked dry and emaciated! That is like climbing a mountain for the purpose of observation, and forgetting to take your field-glasses; you can distinguish nothing whatever down below. In our case the field-glasses are spiritual, and they are called imagination, inspiration, and intuition. Man's ability to reach that peak diminished more and more through the centuries—a fact that was clearly felt and acknowledged as early as the Middle Ages. Today it is felt too, but not acknowledged. In olden times that capacity to ascend existed, as you know, though only to a minor degree. It was based on a clairvoyant twilight condition in man. There really was an ancient theosophy of that sort, but it was written that such revelations from the summit should come to a close, that they should no longer be open to the ordinary means of cognition. This old theosophy, which considers revelation a thing of the past, became theology, and thus we find theology running parallel with anthropology. Theology's ambition is to climb the heights, but for its means it depends upon something that was once revealed, was then handed down, and is now rigid; something incapable of continually revealing itself anew to the striving soul. Throughout the Middle Ages, anthropology and theology frequently opposed without rejecting each other, but in recent times the contrast is sharp. Nowadays theology is admitted along with anthropology as something scientific, but no bridge is found between the two. If we do not stop with the details but ascend half-way, we can establish anthroposophy by the side of theosophy. Within modern spiritual life attempts have been made to practise anthroposophy, among other things, but again, as in the case of theosophy, with the wrong, inadequate means of a defunct philosophy. The meaning of philosophy can really no longer be understood by philosophers—only by theosophists. Historical contemplation alone yields this understanding. Philosophy can be comprehended only by contemplating its origin, as can be seen by an illustration. In former times there were the so-called Mysteries, abodes where the higher spiritual life was cultivated, where the neophytes were guided by special methods to spiritual vision. One such Mystery, for example, was in Ephesus, where the neophytes could learn through their training the secrets of Diana of Ephesus; they learned to look into the spiritual worlds. As much of such matters as could be made public was communicated to the profane and received by them, but not all of these realized that higher secrets had been revealed to them. One of those to whom such communications from the Mysteries of Ephesus had penetrated was Heraclitus. He then proclaimed these, by means of his partial initiation, in a way that could be generally understood. In reading the doctrines of Heraclitus, “The Obscure,” we still find immediate experience, the experience of the higher worlds, shining through between the lines. Then came his successors who no longer realized that those doctrines originated in direct experience. They no longer understood them, so they began to improve them, to spin them out in concepts. They began to speculate intellectually, and this method persisted through the generations. Everything we have in the way of philosophy today is but a heritage of ancient doctrines squeezed out and sucked dry of all life, leaving only the skeleton of the concepts. Yet the philosophers take that skeleton for a living reality, for something created by human thinking. There is, as a matter of fact, no such thing as a philosopher who can think creatively without having recourse to the higher worlds. Just such a skeleton of concepts was all that the philosophers of the nineteenth century had to work with when they took up what may be called anthroposophy. The term actually occurred. Robert Zimmermann wrote a so-called Anthroposophy, but he constructed it of arid, empty concepts. Indeed, everything that has attempted to transcend anthropology without employing the right means has remained a shriveled web of concepts no longer connected with the subject. Like philosophy, anthroposophy too must be deepened through theosophy; the latter must provide the means for recognizing reality within the spiritual life. Anthroposophy takes the human, the middle standpoint, not the subhuman, as does anthropology. A theosophy, on the other hand, as practised by Solger, though spiritual in its point of view, employs only inflated concepts, and when Solger arrives at the summit he sees nothing. That is spinning at the loom of concepts, not living, spiritual observation. It is something we do not intend to do. We aim in these lectures to confront the reality of human life in its entirety. We shall encounter the old subjects of observation, now illuminated, however, from a different point whence the view is both upward and downward. The human being is the most important subject of our observation. We need but to contemplate his physical body to realize what a complicated being he is. In order to gain a sentient understanding of anthroposophy's aims, let us first ponder the following. The complicated physical body as we encounter it today is the product of a long evolution. Its first germinal potentiality came into being on old Saturn, and it evolved further on the old Sun, the old Moon, and the Earth. The etheric body was added to it on the Sun, the astral body on the Moon. Now, these members of the human being have changed in the course of evolution, and what we encounter today as the complicated physical human body, with heart, kidneys, eyes, ears and so forth, is the product of a long development. It has all grown out of a simple germinal form that originated on Saturn. Through millions and millions of years it has continually changed and been transformed in order that it might achieve its present perfection. If today we wish to understand a member or an organ of this physical body—say, the heart or the lungs—we can do so only on the basis of this evolution. Nothing of what we encounter today as the heart existed on the old Saturn. Only gradually did these organs assume their present form, one being developed and incorporated earlier, another later. Some organs we can actually designate Sun-organs, as having first appeared during the Sun evolution, others Moon-organs, and so on. If we would understand the present physical body of man we must assemble our concepts from the whole Universe—that is the theosophical method of observation. How does anthropology set to work? Theosophy ascends to the ultimate heights and from this spiritual summit examines individual phenomena. Anthropology remains on the ground, takes its point of departure from the details, and now even investigates individual cells in their juxtaposition. Everything is mechanically lined up and the cells are studied individually, but this does not reveal their relative age. Yet, far from being immaterial, it is important to know whether a given group of cells developed on the Sun or on the Moon. Much more could be said concerning these complicated conditions. Consider, for example, the human heart. True, as constituted today it evolved late, but as regards its first germinal potentiality it is one of the oldest human organs. During the period of the old Sun, the heart was dependent upon the forces governing there. During the Moon period its development continued; then the Sun withdrew from the Moon, with which it had been united, and henceforth its forces acted upon the heart from without. Here the heart underwent a different development, so that from then on a Sun element and a Moon element can be observed in its tendencies. Then Earth, Sun, and Moon were united again and worked upon the heart. After a pralaya the Earth evolution followed, during which the Sun first withdrew again. This separation resulted in an intensification of the Sun's influence from without. Then the Moon withdrew as well and also acted upon the heart from without. So, being among the oldest human organs, the heart comprises a Sun element, a Moon element, a second Sun element during the Earth evolution, a second Moon element during the Earth evolution, and finally, after the withdrawal of the Earth, an Earth element—all corresponding to cosmic evolution. If these elements of the heart accord, as in the cosmic harmony, the heart is healthy; if any one element preponderates, it is sick. All human sickness derives from disharmony among the elements within the organ in question while their cosmic counterparts are in harmony. All healing depends upon strengthening the element that lacks its share, or subduing superfluous activity, as the case may be, thereby bringing the elements into harmony again. But talking about this harmony is not enough. In order to effect it one must really penetrate into the wisdom of the universe; one must be able to recognize the different elements in each organ. That will suffice to give an idea of genuine occult physiology and anatomy, which comprehend the whole human being out of the whole cosmos and explain the details out of the spirit. Occult physiology speaks of Sun and Moon elements of the heart, larynx, brain, and so forth, but since all these elements are at work upon man himself, something in him confronts us today in which all these elements are consolidated. If we look into the human being himself and understand these elements, we also understand the etheric body, the astral body, etc., the sentient soul, the intellectual soul and the consciousness soul, as man is constituted today. That is anthroposophy, and in anthroposophy, too, we must start at the lowest step, gradually ascending to the highest. Man's lowest member is the physical body that he has in common with the sensory world that is perceived through the senses and the sensory-physical mind. The theosophical point of view, starting from the universe, contemplates man in his cosmic contexts. In the matter of the sensory-physical world, anthroposophy must start from man, in so far as he is a sensory being. Only then can we deal appropriately with the etheric body, then the astral body, the ego, and so forth, and what is to be learned from them. Observing the human being in this anthroposophical sense, we ask what it is that must first engage our interest. It is his senses, and it is through these that he acquires knowledge of the physical-sensory world. Starting from the physical plane, it is therefore these that anthroposophy must consider first. Let the study of the human senses then constitute our first chapter. Thereafter we will ascend to the study of the individual spiritual regions in man's nature. Beginning with the study of the human senses, we at once find anthroposophy invading the territory of anthropology, for anthroposophy must invariably start from all that the senses tell us is real. But it must keep in mind that what is spiritual, influences man from above. In this sense it is genuine anthropology. Ordinary anthropology has thrown everything pertaining to the human senses into complete confusion, groping its way from detail to detail and examining only what is on the ground, so to speak. Important matters are disregarded because men have no Ariadne-thread to lead them out of the labyrinth of facts into the light. Anthropology cannot find its way out of this maze and must fall a victim to the Minotaur of illusion, for the saving thread can be spun only by spiritual research. Even in the matter of the human senses, anthroposophy has a different story to tell than has external observation. At the same time it is interesting to note how external science has lately been forced by material facts to go to work more thoroughly, seriously and carefully. There is nothing more trivial than the enumeration of the five senses: feeling (touch), smell, taste, hearing, and sight. We shall see what confusion reigns in this enumeration. Science, it is true, has now added three more senses to the list, but as yet doesn't seem to know what to do about them. We will now list the human senses according to their real significance, and we will endeavor in the following to start laying the foundations of an anthroposophical doctrine of the senses. The first sense in question is the one that in spiritual science can be called the sense of life. That is a real sense and must be as fully acknowledged as the sense of sight. What is it? It is something in the human being of which, when it functions normally he is not aware. He feels it only when it is out of order. We feel lassitude, or hunger and thirst, or a sense of strength in the organism; we perceive these as we do a color or a tone. We are aware of them as an inner experience. But as a rule we are conscious of this feeling only when something is out of order, otherwise it remains unobserved. The sense of life furnishes the first human self-perception; it is the sense through which the whole inner man becomes conscious of his corporeality. That is the first sense, and it must figure in the list just as does hearing or smell. Nobody can understand the human being and the senses who knows nothing of this sense that enables him to feel himself an inner entity. We discover the second sense when we move a limb—say, raise an arm. We would not be human beings if we could not perceive our own movements. A machine is not aware of its own motion; that is possible only for a living being through the medium of a real sense. The sense of perceiving our own movements—anything from blinking to walking or running—we call the sense of our own movements. We become aware of a third sense by realizing that the human being distinguishes within himself between above and below. It is dangerous for him to lose this perception, for in that case he totters and falls over. The human body contains a delicate organ connected with this sense: the three semicircular canals in the ear. When these are injured we lose our sense of balance. This third sense is the static sense, or sense of balance. (In the animal kingdom there is something analogous: the otoliths, tiny stones that must lie in a certain position if the animal is to maintain its equilibrium.) These are the three senses through which man perceives something within himself, as it were; by their means he feels something within himself. Now we emerge from the inner man to the point at which an interaction with the outer world begins. The first of such reciprocal relations arises when man assimilates physical matter and, by doing so, perceives it. Matter can be perceived only when it really unites with the body. This cannot be done by solid or fluid matter, but only by gaseous substances that then penetrate the bodily matter. You can perceive smell only when some body sends out gaseous matter that penetrates the organs of the mucous membrane of the nose. The fourth sense, then, is the sense of smell, and it is the first one through which the human being enters into reciprocal relationship with the outer world. When we no longer merely perceive matter but take the first step into matter itself, we have the fifth sense. We enter into a deeper relationship with such matter. Here matter must be active, which implies that it must have some effect upon us. This takes place when a liquid or a dissolved solid comes in contact with the tongue and unites with what the tongue itself secretes. The reciprocal relationship between man and nature has become a more intimate one. We become aware not only of what things are, as matter, but of what they can induce. That is the sense of taste, the fifth sense. Now we come to the sixth sense. Again there is an increase in the intimacy of the interaction. We penetrate still deeper into matter, things reveal more of their essence. This can only occur, however, through special provisions. The sense of smell is the more primitive of these two kinds of senses. In the case of smell, the human body takes matter as it is and makes no effort to penetrate it. Taste, where man and matter unite more intimately, is more complicated; then, matter yields more. The next step offers the possibility of penetrating still more deeply into the outer world. This takes place by reason of an external material substance being either transparent or opaque, or by the manner in which it permits light to pass through it, that is, how it is colored. An object that rays out green light is internally so constituted that it can reflect green light and no other. The outermost surface of things is revealed to us in the sense of smell, something of their inner nature in taste, something of their inner essence in sight. Hence the complicated structure of the eye, which leads us much deeper into the essence of things than does the nose or the tongue. The sixth sense, then, is the sense of sight. We proceed, penetrating still deeper into matter. For example, when the eye sees a rose as red, the inner nature of the rose is proclaimed by its surface. We see only the surface, but since this is conditioned by the inner nature of the rose we become acquainted, to a certain extent, with this inner nature. If we touch a piece of ice or some hot metal, not only the surface and thereby the inner nature are revealed, but the real consistency as well because what is externally cold or hot is cold or hot through and through. The sense of temperature, the seventh, carries us still more intimately into the fundamental conditions of objects. Now we ask ourselves if it is possible to penetrate into the nature of objects still more deeply than through this seventh sense. Yes, that can be done when objects show us not only their nature through and through, as in the case of temperature, but their most inner essence; that is what they do when they begin to sound. The temperature is even throughout objects. Tone causes their inner nature to vibrate, and it is through tone that we perceive the inner mobility of objects. When we strike an object its inner nature is revealed to us in tone, and we can distinguish among objects according to their inner nature, according to their inner vibration, when we open our inner ear to their tone. It is the soul of objects that speaks to our own soul in tones. That is the eighth sense, the sense of hearing. If we would find an answer to the question as to whether there exist still higher senses, we must proceed cautiously. We must beware of confusing what is really a sense with other terms and expressions. For example, in ordinary life—down below, where much confusion exists—we hear of a sense of imitation, a sense of secrecy, and others. That is wrong. A sense becomes effective at the moment when we achieve perception and before mental activity sets in. We speak of a sense as of something that functions before our capacity for reasoning has come into action. To perceive color you need a sense, but for judging between two colors you do not. This brings us to the ninth sense. We arrive at it by realizing that in truth there is in man a certain power of perception—one that is especially important in substantiating anthroposophy—a power of perception not based on reasoning, yet present in him. It is what men perceive when they understand each other through speech. A real sense underlies the perception of what is transmitted to us through speech. That is the ninth sense, the sense of speech. The child learns to speak before he learns to reason. A whole people has a language in common, but reasoning is a matter for the individual. What speaks to the senses is not subject to the mental activity of the individual. The perception of the meaning of a sound is not mere hearing because the latter tells us only of the inner oscillations of the object. There must be a special sense for the meaning of what is expressed in speech. That is why the child learns to speak, or at least to understand what is spoken, before he learns to reason. It is, in fact, only through speech that he learns to reason. The sense of speech is an educator during the child's first years, exactly like hearing and sight. We cannot alter what a sense perceives, cannot impair anything connected with it. We perceive a color, but our judgment can neither change nor vitiate it; the same thing is true of the sense of speech when we perceive the inner significance of the speech sound. It is indispensable to designate the sense of speech as such. It is the ninth. Finally we come to the tenth sense, the highest in the realm of ordinary life. It is the concept sense, which enables us perceptively to comprehend concepts not expressed through speech sounds. In order to reason we must have concepts. If the mind is to become active, it must first be able to perceive the concept in question, and this calls for the concept sense, which is exactly as much a sense by itself as is taste or smell. Now I have enumerated ten senses and have not mentioned the sense of touch. What about it? Well, a method of observation lacking the spiritual thread confuses everything. Touch is usually tossed in with our seventh sense, temperature. Only in this meaning, however, as the sense of temperature, has it in the first instance any significance. True, the skin can be called the organ of the temperature sense—the same skin that serves also as the organ of the touch sense. But we touch not only when we touch [TRANSLATOR'S NOTE: The verb tasten can mean “to touch.” Indeed, the sense of touch is der Tastsinn, but more often it signifies something like our “groping,” as one gropes in the dark by means of the sense of touch: “feeling around for something.” In this sentence the first “touch” is to be understood in this sense, the second (berühren) as meaning “to come in contact with.”] the surface of an object. We touch when the eye seeks something, when the tongue tastes something, when the nose smells something. Touching is a quality common to the fourth to seventh senses. All of these are senses of touch. Up to and including the sense of temperature we can speak of touching. Hearing we can no longer describe as touching; at least, the quality is present only to a small degree. In the senses of speech and concepts it is wholly absent. These three senses we therefore designate as the senses of comprehension and understanding. The first three senses inform us concerning the inner man. Reaching the boundary between the inner and the outer world, the fourth sense leads us into this outer world, and by means of the other three we penetrate it ever more deeply. Through the senses of touch we perceive the outer world on the surface, and through those of comprehension we learn to understand things, we reach their soul. Later we will deal with other senses transcending these. Below the sense of smell, then, there are three senses that bring us messages out of our own human inner being. The sense of smell is the first to lead us into the outer world, into which we then penetrate deeper and deeper by means of the others. But what I have described to you today does not exhaust the list of senses. It was only an excerpt from the whole, and there is something below and something above the ten mentioned. From the concept sense we can continue upward to a first astral sense, arriving at the senses that penetrate the spiritual world. There we find an eleventh, a twelfth and a thirteenth sense. These three astral senses will lead us deeper into the fundamentals of external objects, deep down where concepts cannot penetrate. The concept halts before the external, just as the sense of smell halts before the inner man. What I have given you is an urgently needed foundation upon which to build cognition of the human being. Through its neglect in the nineteenth century, everything pertaining even to philosophy and the theory of knowledge has been most horribly jumbled. Merely generalizing, people ask what the human being can learn by means of the individual sense, and they cannot even explain the difference between hearing and sight. Scientists talk about light waves in the same way they do about sound waves, without taking into account that sight does not penetrate as deeply as hearing. Through hearing we enter the soul-nature of things, and we shall see that by means of the eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth senses we penetrate their spirit as well: we enter the spirit of nature. Each sense has a different nature and a different character. For this reason a great number of expositions given today, especially in physics, concerning the nature of sight and its relation to its surroundings may be regarded unhesitatingly as theories that have never reckoned with the true nature of the senses. Countless errors have arisen from this misconception of the nature of the senses. That must be emphasized, because it is quite impossible for popular representations to do justice to what has here been set forth. You read things written by people who can have no possible inkling of the inner nature of the senses. We must understand that science, from its standpoint, cannot do other than take a different attitude. It is inevitable that science should spread errors, because in the course of evolution the real nature of the senses was forgotten. This true nature of the senses is the first chapter of anthroposophy. |
| 77a. The Task of Anthroposophy in the Context of Science and Life: The Task of Anthroposophy in Relation to Science and Life
29 Jul 1921, Darmstadt Rudolf Steiner |
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| Dear attendees! Anthroposophy, of which I can, of course, only sketch a meager and inadequate picture in the context of a short lecture this evening, does not want to talk about worldviews merely out of theoretical considerations or emotional impulses, but this anthroposophy wants to penetrate the most diverse branches of scientific and other life in a fruitful way. |
| And I could mention many more examples of this kind, which show that anthroposophy does not arise from some kind of sectarian sentiment or emotional impulse, but that it wants to place itself in life as a fact of life. |
| What is at work in social life cannot be grasped by anthropology, but only by anthroposophy, because anthropology starts from the general, while anthroposophy starts from in his individual freedom; because anthroposophy knows how to look everywhere, right down to the individual human being, and see how this human being is the one who places himself in social life. |
| 77a. The Task of Anthroposophy in the Context of Science and Life: The Task of Anthroposophy in Relation to Science and Life
29 Jul 1921, Darmstadt Rudolf Steiner |
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Dear attendees! Anthroposophy, of which I can, of course, only sketch a meager and inadequate picture in the context of a short lecture this evening, does not want to talk about worldviews merely out of theoretical considerations or emotional impulses, but this anthroposophy wants to penetrate the most diverse branches of scientific and other life in a fruitful way. At present, anthroposophy is not only being discussed, but in Dornach, near Basel, we already have a School of Spiritual Science where a series of experts gave lectures and lecture courses on a wide range of scientific topics last fall and this spring. A therapeutic institute is being founded in Stuttgart to gradually introduce into medical practice the medical applications of anthroposophical spiritual science. And I could mention many more examples of this kind, which show that anthroposophy does not arise from some kind of sectarian sentiment or emotional impulse, but that it wants to place itself in life as a fact of life. Since it is based on such premises, it feels thoroughly permeated by the obligation to justify itself before the strictest demands that have gradually arisen in the scientific life of humanity. And it may well be said that anthroposophy seeks to take up precisely those points where the most diverse branches of science are currently showing that they demand a continuation from within their own structure. I would like to go straight to the point. The great triumphs of modern science, which, as I have mentioned time and again, are fully recognized and appreciated by anthroposophy, these great triumphs of modern science are partly due to the fact that we have understood how to transform mere observation of the external sense world into scientific systematic experiment. And it is not only the results of the sciences of modern times that arise from experimentation, from the methodology of the experiment, from the experimental design, but at the same time, from the experimental design, from the way the experiment is conducted, arises what I would like to call the modern scientific attitude, which one must have if one wants to have any say in modern scientific life. Anthroposophy now seeks to fully meet these requirements in a field other than that of recognized natural science. What, then, is the actual basis of the certainty that we gain from experimentation in relation to the external world? It is based on the fact that we are able to compose the conditions of the experiment from our considerations, from our insights, in such a way that we are able to have a clear overview of what now emerges as a series of facts from these conditions that we ourselves have composed. What follows from this special characteristic of the experiment has now been worked out in the modern scientific world view, so that a knowledge of certain conditions, especially of the inorganic conditions of the external world, has indeed been achieved to a certain extent. The special esteem in which experiments were held has, however, led to what may be called scientific materialism. But this scientific materialism is justified in a certain sense. For, insofar as one aims to methodically get to know the laws of the course of material phenomena, it is really a matter of getting to know what we encounter in material existence as objectively material, as actual, and in its lawfulness. Great, tremendous progress has been made in this way. But in more recent scientific life, we are confronted with another fact, a fact that does not stand alone, but which I would like to emphasize as a particularly symptomatic one: it was in the first half of the 19th century, in the age in which just that way of thinking emerged, of which I have just given a very brief description; it was in the age when one said goodbye to talking about a certain force that had always been assumed in the past and without which one did not think one could get along. What earlier natural philosophers or naturalists called the “life force” was abandoned. In the 19th century, this life force was already understood to be something very nebulous. The idea was that compounds of chemical elements and chemical processes in general should take place in the organism under the influence of this life force in a way that was only vaguely understood. And to the same extent that the newer experimental science emerged, to the same extent people no longer found satisfaction in speculating about such a life force. Because gradually all the talk about such a life force had become speculation. So around the middle of the nineteenth century, the scientific consideration of this talk about a special life force disappeared, and rightly so – at least if one is able to grasp things historically and scientifically. But in more recent times, we are once again confronted with a different fact. The certainty that has been gained in experimental science, and what has been acquired there in terms of knowledge of material connections – it is gradually becoming apparent that this is not enough. The material connections, insofar as they can be traced into the organic, even into the life of the soul, these connections cannot be grasped with what can be gained from the experimental science that has been customary up to now. And there is more: one gradually gets the feeling that it is impossible to approach what is already manifested in the living organism, let alone the ensouled organism, with the concepts and ideas, with the summaries of phenomena that are gained as natural laws. And so there has emerged what is called neo-vitalism, which in turn appeals to something similar to the old life force that has been abandoned. Anyone who looks impartially at everything that is being attempted in this field of penetration, or, as it is also called, the overcoming of the science that grew up in the second half of the 19th century, will see it as a hybrid, a half-measure, because the same kind of thinking that has been developed for external experimental science is being used to penetrate more or less hypothetically into the living organism. And by observing without prejudice everything that presents itself in this respect as a kind of hybrid, one must actually come to the conclusion that the same thinking that one has developed in the usual experimental science is really not suitable for penetrating into the laws, into the essence of what lives in the organic, in the animated, and in the spiritualized. Can we get by with a renewal of the concept of the life force when we want to grasp the organic, the ensouled and the spiritualized with the same thoughts that we are accustomed to rightly apply to the external sensual nature? Those who have correctly grasped the anthroposophical spiritual science meant here are fundamentally convinced that we cannot get by with this. They are convinced that it is perfectly justified to assume that the phenomena of life demand, precisely when they are observed with the strictest science of the 19th and 20th centuries, a going beyond this science; but at the same time they require a transformation of knowledge itself, a transformation of the whole soul disposition, a transformation of the whole position of the human observer to that which is to be observed. Therefore, the anthroposophical spiritual science referred to here does not start from the same knowledge that must rightly be assumed in external natural science, but seeks to grasp that which obviously lies beyond this natural scientific field through other powers of knowledge. And these other powers of cognition – this is for her a thoroughly empirical, an experiential fact – these other powers of cognition are not present in ordinary life, in ordinary scientific research; they lie, so to speak, dormant in the soul, they must first be brought out of this soul. And until one recognizes that every speculative reconstruction of something like the old life force is of no use, until one recognizes that only the transition to a special kind of knowledge, the development of a special kind of knowledge that lies dormant in the soul in ordinary life and in ordinary science. Otherwise, one will not advance from the comprehension of the inorganic to the comprehension of the organic, of the ensouled, of the spiritualized. How should one imagine the development of such powers lying dormant in the soul? What I shall now have to characterize in a few words as a matter of principle – the path to supersensible knowledge – can be found described in detail in my book How to Know Higher Worlds and in the second part of my Occult Science, as well as in other books of mine. I shall only emphasize here what is of fundamental importance in the matter. Two things should be aimed for first. To a certain extent, human soul life must be developed systematically and consciously in two poles if such higher knowledge is to emerge in man. One side is this, which is best understood by building on the human capacity for memory. We need this memory for ordinary life, and we need it to establish a scientific life. If a person's ability to remember, if their memory, is disturbed, they lose their normal mental health. You only need to familiarize yourself with what a pathologist tells you about people whose recollection of their life events is somehow interrupted, so that they can no longer see their past life. What makes us a whole person inwardly, in our soul, is actually the ability to remember. But this ability to remember is at the same time what must now be overcome in a certain respect for higher knowledge. One must tie in with what comes to light in memory. In memory, so to speak, our ideas become something permanent. Again and again, memories can arise arbitrarily or involuntarily from the stream of our experiences, and this is precisely how our soul life is constituted. What arises there, the making permanent of the ideas, can be recreated in a certain way by means of the method that I called the meditative method of knowledge in the books mentioned. I mean this in the technical sense, not in the nebulous, mystical sense in which it is often meant today. Then, with full and free will, one must imitate what arises in the memory, namely, the fact that certain images enter into consciousness. One must present such easily comprehensible ideas to oneself, which may not be reminiscences, which may not themselves be memory images, which one can therefore either have recommended by another, or which one must put together in such a way that they are thoroughly comprehensible, so that nothing from the subconscious can arise and mix in; and these ideas must then be given duration at will. To a certain extent, one must be able to rest with the whole life of the soul on such images. It does not depend on the actual content of such images, but on this act of the soul. It depends on bringing the whole life of the soul together in looking, inwardly looking at such images. In this way, one acts on this life of the soul in a similar way to how one acts, for example, on a muscle that performs work and thereby experiences a strengthening. What matters is this intensification of the soul life. Therefore, what I have now briefly described is, in practice, a very extensive exercise, something to which one must devote oneself for a long time and in a very orderly fashion. Then forces develop that otherwise would not be drawn out of the soul life. Under the influence of the modern scientific spirit, we are actually striving more and more not to evoke these kinds of images into the field of our consciousness and to rest on them, but rather we have come to life or through observation, so that this soul power, to which I have particularly referred, and which must be strengthened, has actually been little practised in the modern scientific and life attitude. But it is this soul power that is important. Now, I would like to add something here, so to speak in parentheses: Those who hear that such soul forces are being developed that otherwise lie dormant in the soul will be inclined, out of certain foundations of today's thinking, to say with a light heart: Well, yes, a certain pathology of the soul is being developed; hallucinations or illusions or other unjustified soul content are being created. And those people who have not seriously studied what is actually meant here have presented their misunderstandings to the world in the most inaccurate way [for example, by claiming] that, to a certain extent, such exercises provoke pathological states of consciousness. If you are a true observer of the soul and understand how auto-suggestion, illusions and hallucinations come about – I would have to give many lectures to describe it in detail – if you know these pathological phenomena – for they are all pathological – if you know these pathological phenomena of the soul life and the forces that lead to them, then you also know that what is developed in the soul life through anthroposophy, through anthroposophical methodology, points in precisely the opposite direction. Everything that leads to illusion, to suggestion, points in the direction of illness. What is cultivated in the soul through the anthroposophical method points in the opposite direction. All the powers that heal and restore health in the life of the soul and, through it, in the organic life are called forth by the exercises I am referring to here. What I have described here leads to a certain emergence of soul forces that grow stronger. This leads to the first stage of supersensible knowledge, which I call the imaginative stage. Not because one is dealing with “imagination” in the sense in which the word is often used, but because through such exercises one gradually comes to images without being forced to do so by external sensory perceptions. These images are purely mental images that cannot be compared to hallucinations, but only to memory images. One comes to such images gradually, but in the experience of the image one knows at the same time that this image, unlike a memory, does not refer to anything we have experienced in the life between birth and death, but that these images come from the depths of the soul when one gradually appropriates these images. These pictures do not arise from morbid sources, for in that case one would be subject to an inner compulsion, but in completely free creation, but they arise in such a way that one knows: they point to a spiritual reality. That is the essential thing, that one rises to the realization: just as our memories point to ordinary experiences that we have gone through in a healthy, level-headed way, so these imaginations, these images, point to a spiritual world. A spiritual world enters our consciousness by bringing this soul power up from its depths. Now, the important thing is not to stop at such an exercise, but to proceed to call up such images at will, in the same way as one has formed them. I would like to say: just as one develops a kind of higher, a kind of artificial memory within oneself, so one must develop in a higher way the power that would otherwise lie in forgetting. It is even more difficult to bring this power of forgetting under the control of the will, but this must be practiced. In this one has only just begun, and just as one would otherwise relate an impression to an object through an external sense organ, one now learns to relate what one experiences in the imagination to a spiritual object. Only through this does one then attain the next higher level of supersensible knowledge, even if only partially at first. One reaches the level that I — please do not take offense at this term, it is often misused, I use it only in the sense in which I have often characterized it — which I call the inspired stage; inspired for the reason that one now comes to relate that which was previously only subjectively experienced, only subjective imagination, to an objective, spiritual external world. Now, my dear audience, something arises that is a new inner experience. It arises that a judgment, an approval or a denial of any fact that one experiences in this way in the spiritual, takes on the form of an inner fact. One now knows: One no longer lives in such an abstract inner soul life as one was accustomed to and as it must be for the outer world, which merely has to be depicted, which cannot be experienced, but one now lives in an inner world of facts, which is, however, a purely soul-spiritual world of facts. One experiences agreement with a judgment in such a way that what otherwise appears in one's soul life as what is primitively called the power of sympathy clearly emerges. One experiences rejection as antipathy; only that these experiences are not something that occurs so subjectively in relation to the objects as in ordinary life, but as something that is incorporated into that spiritual world that one is now beginning to experience. To these exercises, which I have described, must now be added others that can be described in principle – the details can be found in the books mentioned – as belonging to human inner self-discipline. We surrender to the outer life in our ordinary existence. We surrender to our educators as children, we surrender to the living out of inherited traits, and in later life we surrender more or less to this life itself. One should only be honest with oneself and say how much inner self-discipline there actually is for a person in ordinary life. This self-discipline is what the spiritual researcher must tackle in a systematic, methodical way. I can only emphasize a few individual points here; in my books I have presented many such exercises, all of which must be applied to a greater or lesser extent if one is to arrive at a certain degree of the knowledge I am referring to here. It is a matter of, for example, clearly and calmly investigating what is a particular idiosyncrasy of one's own self, what is a habit that has developed, and so on. Now, out of a purely inner impulse, one sets about completely mastering this habit, that is, not leaving it in such a way that it leads one, so to speak, that one is under its compulsion, but in such a way that one can say: I follow this habit or I don't follow it. There are all kinds of exercises that can be done, which in turn are entirely up to the person recovering – also because they introduce the person to a certain sphere of freedom, to a way of moving freely in life and also in relation to themselves. One can carry out such exercises in such a way that, for example, if one is a slave to one's handwriting, one can decide to change one's handwriting thoroughly. This is also a change of habit. In this way, one really takes one's inner being into one's own hands, so to speak. When such exercises are carried out systematically – but not as in the previously described exercises, where the soul life is more reshaped on the intellectual side, but now more on the will side – then it happens that it becomes much more difficult for us inwardly, let us say, to come to a decision or to let go of something than it is otherwise in life. In everyday life, the impulses of the will lie in the depths of our nature; we follow them directly; we are led by them. The spiritual researcher must, for the times when he wants to devote himself to spiritual research - naturally only for these times - be able to withdraw from the constraints of his soul life. And if I were to describe the whole path, I would finally come to say: the spiritual researcher comes to distinguish precisely between rest and the transition from rest to activity in relation to his life of will. This is what one now comes to know: this summoning of oneself to action, this fully conscious surrender of the will, which can then no longer be guided by the instincts, which is completely distinct from the organic life, which becomes independent, such an effort of the will, as is otherwise only present in external action, where the muscles must be strained, this strengthening of the inner life of the will by raising it out of the bodily: into the soul. And when we get to know this, then the possibility arises to fully develop the inspired knowledge of which I spoke earlier, that is, to now really gain the ability to relate the imaginations to spiritual facts, to spiritual entities, just as we otherwise relate our outer sense impressions to outer physical objects or physical facts. And then we learn to recognize the nature of the spiritual; we stand face to face with it when we acquire an inner culture in this way, also on the part of the will. I have so far described to you, my dear audience, what emerges — more on the level of the soul — in human experience as a result of doing such exercises. But one need not stop at that. And however paradoxical it may still appear to some people today, it is simply a fact of the empirically developing soul life, which can be systematically trained to become supersensible research. What we gain by transforming the intellectual more, as I have described it, is that we not only work our way into an actual experience of the soul, but that we also arrive at the transition - and not through external observation, but through inner experience - to what we have now grasped purely in spirit. For we have gone through imagination, inspiration and intuition and have grasped the spiritual. And we are now able to follow up what we really grasp imaginatively – if we add the other types of knowledge – in relation to the physical processes that take place in the human organism through this soul-spiritual life. In short, through actual research, through observation or, if I am not misunderstood, I can also express myself by saying: through inner experiment, we are now able to see in reality what psychologists and soul scientists are striving for through speculation. The question is always: Yes, how does the external world affect the human organism? Does it work indirectly through observation, through thinking? How, on the other hand, does the human being work through the will into the activity, into the mobility of the organism, and so on? — These things — call it interaction or parallelism or whatever all the words are called, but they remain words — these things, which one seeks in a speculative way but for which one can never arrive at a result through speculation, one simply penetrates to them through inner vision when one has attained to imagination. Then one recognizes that this imagination is nothing other than a higher stage of development of what I called in my Philosophy of Freedom, which appeared in the early 1990s, “pure thinking,” that pure thinking that I used as the basis for the concept of human freedom. This pure thinking, in which pure will also actually lives, is the thinking from which the impulse of free action must proceed. In ordinary life it often goes unnoticed when it occurs, and it occurs when there is freedom in some part of our otherwise determined action. We cannot ask whether we are free or not; we are always only free in some part, but freedom lives in our actions. Developing this thinking upwards to a real reality, which is now of a spiritual nature, results in the possibility of finding, in inner vision, the relationship of thinking not only to the soul, as I have just described it, but also to the physical organism. As I said, as paradoxical as it may seem to modern man, it is nevertheless the case that the one who experiences thinking in this way knows that there is something in the development of thinking that is in the human organism – it is quite different in animals — in a consolidation of the material, it represents a process that is essentially a nervous process and which, in its connection with thinking, can be seen right into its physical aspect. It is a process that can be compared to a consolidation of matter, to what happens when some substance that is dissolved in another settles. This material consolidation, this becoming denser of the material, this separating out of the material from a medium, that is what is now actually experienced. The other side, the development of the will, is experienced differently when the experience is extended into the physical-organic. One experiences now: every real act of the will, everything that corresponds to the will, has an effect in the organic that can be compared to a kind of dissolution, a kind of atomization of the material. One could also say that it is something that is realized in a kind of material process that begins with warming and leads into a process that starts with warming and then gradually leads into that which, in ordinary life, our will development also more or less consciously represents. While in ordinary life, full consciousness is linked to the fact that very fine consolidations of matter take place inwardly, dissolutions of the material take place when more or less unconscious acts of will take place in ordinary life; not so in the spiritual life, where they unfold transparently. In anthroposophically oriented spiritual science, as it is meant here, it is not about those nebulous things that are talked about in ordinary mysticism, but here it is about an equally strict development of an inner soul condition, as it occurs, for example, in the development of mathematical methodology. There it is a matter of learning to dispense with beating about the bush, with mystifying, if I may use the expression, for the purpose of supersensible research; there it is a matter of proceeding with inner systematic strictness in relation to the development of the soul, as one has become accustomed to doing out of the scientific conscience and the scientific discipline of modern times. Therefore, in spiritual science, those who have first truly acquired a scientific conscience and scientific discipline in external research will be called upon to say something above all. Lest I be misunderstood, I must say the following: What I am describing here are the states of the soul that the spiritual researcher attains, but these are not his ordinary states. No, the spiritual researcher must be grounded in ordinary life with all composure, with all reasonableness, with all inclination to ordinary scientific thinking and research. And that which I have described to you as higher cognitive power, so to speak, only occurs at the moment when the spiritual researcher devotes himself to these higher cognitions. It is not something that captivates him or makes him a mystical enthusiast who always lives outside of life, but it is something that he can handle, that he consciously goes to, just as one goes to an external scientific experiment and then goes away again into ordinary life, in which one is a reasonable person with all the sobriety that is necessary in this life. Precisely the one who in ordinary life tends towards some pathological states of mind, who in ordinary life cannot employ his full personality like any other person, cannot be a spiritual researcher in the true sense of the word. But now, when you consider this strict inner methodology, what do you get from it? Unfortunately, due to the limited time, I can only hint at what the further continuation of this research is. On the one hand, you get the opportunity, I said, to see the connection between the thought, which is initially grasped as a purely spiritual one, and material existence. One comes to see how the thought unfolds in the material inner life. This is the primitive fact from which one starts, the experiential axiom, which in its further pursuit now gives that which allows one to recognize — as imaginative and inspired recognition develops more and more — what our soul life is like before birth or before conception in a spiritual-soul world. What lives in us in a spiritual-soul world, what connects with what comes to us from our ancestors through the material of heredity, we now learn to recognize in its context as a further continuation of the primitive connection between thinking and the material processes within us. In a sense, one learns to experiment inwardly. One learns to penetrate into the living experimental process, albeit in a higher, metamorphosed art of experimentation. Just as we create the conditions in the experiment under which the results develop, so we get to know their consequences in the material-inner life through arbitrary thought processes. And by learning to develop this, one recognizes how the spiritual and soul life, the supersensible life of the human being, which continues from life to life, lived in a spiritual and soul world before birth, or rather before the conception of the present life. This cannot be achieved through any kind of speculation, nor from dark mysticism, but only through a systematic inner development of initially latent soul forces, as I have described it. And the other side: one learns how the will works, how the will, as it were, leads to the dissociation of matter, how the will initiates a warming process that then passes into something else. From this one learns to recognize how the spiritual extricates itself from the material, how the spiritual as volitional extricates itself from the material. And that, in turn, can be compared to the process that confronts us when a person dies, when the volitional spiritual breaks free from the physical body. One comes to recognize this complete process of passing through death, of the immortal part of man passing over into a spiritual world. They see that the point is to pursue a spiritual science in such a way that one does not want to go into the abstract, into the nebulous spiritual, and only talk about it, but that one follows the living activity and creation of this spiritual, the transition of the spiritual into the material life, the wresting of the spiritual from the material. Thus presents itself a spiritual science that does not prattle and ramble on about some abstract spiritual, but which seizes the living spirit, which finds its transition to material activity. That is why true spiritual science is not at all an enemy of materialism, because it recognizes matter as that which fits into the general spirituality. It allows materialism to remain in its own field, as I said before, and it learns to recognize its justification. This will also give you the opportunity to see, if I can only briefly hint at it, how the fact that one learns to see the soul-spiritual functions in their expression in the details of the whole human organism provides an opportunity to follow the effect of the material itself in this human organism. I would like to say: He who knows how thought and will work in the human organism also learns to recognize how a substance or remedy works in the whole human being, which consists of body, soul and spirit. One learns to see through, to see through the human organism inwardly. This, however, is the entrance to an anthroposophically oriented therapy, to a truly rational therapy, which starts from a knowledge of the human being that has been acquired by seeing through the whole human being. In the same way, it could be shown for the other sciences, as it has indeed been indicated, at least, to those who have taken part in this course, by various experts from our circle for the individual sciences. This, then, is what I want to give at least a hint about, albeit a meagre and insufficient hint: how anthroposophy can have a fertilizing effect on the individual specialized sciences. But notice what actually arises in the cognition that is formed in such a way. I will present only one property of this cognition. First of all, when we have struggled up to imagination and see through something imaginatively, when we see through a realm of facts, a realm of entities in the spiritual world, as one sees through a genus, a species of plants, or animals or crystals, then we are confronted with a real perception of external spiritual reality, with which the human being is connected; when we understand something in the external sense world, we also know how the human being as a whole is integrated into this external world. But by living in this external spiritual reality, we come to see through the world's interconnections as such. And here I would just like to hint at something. It should only be highlighted as an example. The science that I characterized at the beginning leads us to the so-called heat death, into which the events of the earth will one day end. Yes, my dear audience, we can certainly grant a certain justification to everything that external science can tell us about this heat death. But this external science lacks that which man himself introduces into the events that external science describes to us. And by learning to recognize how human will works within the warmth being — I have described how it intervenes in a warming process — we can sense, and this suspicion becomes a certainty through spiritual science, that in this process towards entropy can mix in that which emanates from human morality, from human ideality, from human volitional impulses; we can surmise that this then plays an essential role when considered in connection with its effect on the outer physical nature. And then one comes to say to oneself: Just as the individual human being rises as a soul out of his physical body and enters into a spiritual world, so the totality of human souls and human spirits will live beyond the heat death, indeed beyond the end of the earth, into other cosmic conditions; they will experience what is no longer earthly, but what belongs to a metamorphosis of the earth's development itself. All these things result in a certain change, a metamorphosis of our cognition itself. And there it is a striking fact that I must now touch upon. When one has already come to see something in the external spiritual world, then one notices what it actually means: one has metamorphosed one's own ability to remember, one has transformed it into something else. For the peculiar thing is that At first, spiritual observations do not enter into the ordinary realm of memory. If one wants to recognize what one has once seen in the spiritual world, one cannot remember it in the ordinary sense. This shows precisely that it is an observation, not an ordinary concept or a fantasy. If one wants to go again to that which one has observed and of which one has only an image, one must also here again take the same spiritual path. One can only remember the way in which one brought about this spiritual observation, but it does not pass over into the immediate spiritual observation. That is surprising for beginners who devote themselves to spiritual science, who come to see and then forget what they have seen because it is an observation and not a mere concept. One must remember all the details through which one has brought about the vision, then, if one has the necessary strength and if the meditative exercise was sufficient, one can bring it about again. Thus, however, the spiritual researcher is obliged to make the ascent into the spiritual world again and again and again. What we see in the spiritual world does not become a memory; if I may express it this way, it can only be the cause to bring about the same processes again and again, through which one has risen to spiritual vision. I would also like to mention: One can even — and that is not the worst thing about this spiritual science, because it protects against illusions —, one can, when one has already achieved a great deal for oneself in this respect, come to skepticism and can be repeatedly compelled to overcome this skepticism. One must always work inwardly, in inner activity. And this inner activity also flows from what is communicated, what is written down by the spiritual researcher, and what the other person can accept based on his common sense. For spiritual science can be received by every layperson with common sense, without needing to be a spiritual researcher, just as astronomical truths can be received by the layperson who can see through them, even without being an astronomer. But through what is developed in spiritual science as a concept, as an idea, as a mental picture, an inner activity is transferred to the human being, which is transferred to the whole person. In other words, what is transferred to the human being is what could be called a spirit-filled contemplation of the world. This presence of mind, this apprehension of the concrete, this leaving behind of the merely abstract, is what one particularly cultivates in spiritual science. But through this one is prepared for life in a living realization. It must be said again and again: in modern times it is difficult for people to come out of their inner individuality to a social life such as I have described in my Philosophy of Freedom, which I have already mentioned, because this beginning must be made by looking at spirituality, even if it is in a primitive way, but still by looking at spirituality itself. But when one finds one's way into it by studying spiritual science, by living into spiritual science, then one is led to the concrete. But this concrete must be grasped if one wants to understand this life, which we can call social life in the sense of modern times. We need only look back a few centuries to recognize the transformation that has taken place in the social life of human culture. In earlier times, social associations and social ties emerged from certain instinctive foundations that lived in human beings. And from these social ties, one might say, from what one human being experienced in another, , that particular degree of love also emerged, which is no longer appropriate in today's world, of course, but which in earlier centuries, even in those that we do not want to conjure up, did live from person to person. This degree of love must be understood from the instinctive relationships from person to person. The more recent period, with its advances in natural science, with the justified applications of natural science in the field of technology, with what in turn technology has demanded in terms of world trade and world economy, in everything we can call the modern technology of life, and in everything that man sees himself in this modern life, - all this has emerged, at the same time as man has found himself in the modern spirit of science. But this modern scientific spirit tends first towards theory. Spiritual science, as it can appear today in anthroposophical orientation, moves away from theory, it moves towards observation, towards the concrete, towards the grasping of the momentarily given. But through this, this spiritual science will not only be able to serve the sciences, of which I was able to give a rough outline, but it will also be able to provide essential services to modern life. This modern life has indeed taken on forms that clearly show how forces of decline and destruction have entered the modern world. One need only study their destructive frenzy in the East. Far too little study is being done in the Center and West regarding the destructive forces that have entered humanity. How did these forces enter humanity? We shall see how not science itself – which has its full justification – but how what has asserted itself as a scientific way of thinking wanted to extend itself to thinking about social life. You see how people like the leaders of the radical socialist parties, the Leninists, the Trotskyists, say that what they now want to develop in social life, they have appropriated from the scientific spirit. — Theories applied to social life — that is what we see approaching today as something much more destructive than what has already been in effect: this will to apply theories to life, to want to theorize about life, to want to spin all kinds of utopias in life. But what is given to us in social human life is everywhere the living human beings. And it is only an illusion, a sociological illusion, not to see how today, out of a certain inclination towards the theoretical, man also tends towards the theoretical shaping of reality. Even if he wants to be a practical man, he shapes according to theoretical prejudices. Today, the worst practitioners do this, that is, those who consider themselves to be practitioners; their practice becomes routine. One can see how humanity is in danger of growing into a social machine, a mechanism. What is well suited to the external art of experimentation cannot be transferred to the way people live together. By asserting himself today, the human being wants to be an individual. This is what causes the bitter struggles of the present, which one only has to understand. One can understand them as a rebellion of the human being against what wants to envelop humanity like something objectively external, like a social madhouse. That is where the human being rebels. It is the human being that matters. But the human being that matters is the human being who acts through his or her impulses of will and who can only be understood if one starts from a love and a feeling that are inspired by spiritual knowledge. For it is the spirit that works through people in social life. What is at work in social life cannot be grasped by anthropology, but only by anthroposophy, because anthropology starts from the general, while anthroposophy starts from in his individual freedom; because anthroposophy knows how to look everywhere, right down to the individual human being, and see how this human being is the one who places himself in social life. In this sense, anthroposophical spiritual science also wants to serve the most practical aspects of life. This tendency has given rise to what was first attempted in my 'Philosophy of Freedom', for example, as a foundation of the subjective in man for a contemporary social life adapted to the present historical period of humanity , which was then in turn presented in my “Key Points of the Social Question” not as utopia but as the fullest expression of life, from empirical observation of life, but one that is borne by the spirit. What flows into life that fully takes into account the human being, that has understanding for the individual, that shows how the individual human being cannot be pressed into the general human mold, how national stocks are just national stocks, how other small associations are small associations with their peculiarities — all this flows from the spirit. And only an education that springs from the ideas and concepts of true anthroposophy can look into social human life in such a way that a living, vital, enduring, and inwardly fruitful sociology can arise, which can then also shape social associations. In my “Key Points”, I have attempted to develop such a sociology by eliminating all utopia. And at the Waldorf School in Stuttgart, founded by Emil Molt and now under my direction, we have tried to extend this anthroposophical view of the human being to the development of the child, to really regard the child as a complete human being in body, soul and spirit, and to let the child dictate how the curriculum and teaching methods should be. I can only briefly mention that knowledge, because it itself becomes something that is alive, must be gained again and again, that if it is to be higher knowledge, it must be gained anew every moment — just as one must eat anew every day, although one ate yesterday, one must do it again today —, while one remembers what one has acquired through ordinary, abstract or natural science. What is remembered passes into the image, becomes unreal. What is won through spiritual science is really alive; therefore it must always be won anew. Therefore an inner activity and soul work of the human being is necessary. Therefore what is won through spiritual science is related not only to knowledge but also to life.And on such foundations, this anthroposophical spiritual science may believe that it can work in the direction indicated in today's lecture; in the direction that it can be fruitful — not by talking about world view out of theoretical or sentimental considerations —, but that it can have a fertilizing effect on the one hand, for science, which after all underlies our life more and more, and that it has a fertilizing effect on the other hand, for life itself, in its social shaping in particular; that anthroposophical spiritual science can not only create knowledge, but an actual spiritual-soul reality that is fruitful for science and for life. |
| 77b. Art and Anthroposophy The Goetheanum Impulse: Summer Art Course 1921: Anthroposophy as a Moral Impulse and a Creative Social Force
26 Aug 1921, Dornach Rudolf Steiner |
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| You see, it is easy to say that Count Hermann Keyserling is not an opponent of anthroposophy. Count Hermann Keyserling himself wanted to prove to me that he was not an opponent of anthroposophy, and that is why he wrote me a long letter a long time ago. |
| But by taking the path from external natural science to a spiritual science, anthroposophy is able to see through not only the shell, the cover of instinct and will, but the true essence of instinct and will. |
| These, esteemed attendees, are the things we must look at if we want to recognize anthroposophy as a moral and social impulse. This is what anthroposophy believes it has to say to our time in this regard, to which it feels obliged to say it. |
| 77b. Art and Anthroposophy The Goetheanum Impulse: Summer Art Course 1921: Anthroposophy as a Moral Impulse and a Creative Social Force
26 Aug 1921, Dornach Rudolf Steiner |
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Dear attendees,A very serious philosopher, Johann Gottlieb Fichte, spoke from his deepest insight the sentence: What kind of philosophy you choose depends on what kind of person you are. - For a philosophy that wants to talk about moral and ethical, moral-social aspects from its own field, such a sentence is, if you look more closely, downright devastating. For if, in its highest realizations, which are supposed to be the philosophical ones, one only reflects what one already is as a moral and social human being, then philosophy, world view, cannot possibly provide impulses for morality and the social. And anyone who takes such a sentence seriously will have to ask themselves the important question: How can knowledge, how can a body of knowledge have any kind of impelling effect on the moral, on the social life? For in our time, scientific thinking, which permeates all the life forces of human beings, would indeed like to have a certain authoritative effect on the moral and social life. This question seems to me to have a very special significance for our time, and to an even greater extent for anthroposophically oriented spiritual science. For anthroposophically oriented spiritual science wants to be an active force in life. And how could it become one if it could not find any impulses for morality, for social life, which arguably include the greatest problems of our present time. Again and again, however, one is referred to the special nature of today's scientific spirit when such a question is raised. This scientific spirit, it would like to develop in a way that actually contradicts Fichte's dictum. Today's scientific spirit, which has developed the way of thinking and the methods that are particularly suitable for the external, independent nature of man, would like to deliver results that cannot be said to be the way man is. And in fact, it will make a lot of sense if someone says today: a chemist who forms a world view, a physicist who forms a world view, will be pushed by the objectivity of his view to develop something that is valid for all people, so to speak, that cannot be said to be similar to what the human being is as a whole. In a sense, objective science must flourish independently of the moral or other state of the soul. One can say: this science has risen to its highest triumphs in the last few centuries, especially in the very last century. Not that one would want to believe that it is already sophistically oriented spiritual science, it still has this meaning to an increased extent. For anthroposophically oriented spiritual science wants to be an active force in life. And how could it become that if it could not find some impulses for morality, for social life, which arguably include the greatest problems of our present day. But again and again, when such a question is raised, attention is drawn to the special nature of today's scientific spirit. This scientific spirit, it would like to develop in a way that actually contradicts Fichte's dictum. Today's scientific spirit, which has developed the way of thinking and the methods that are particularly suitable for the external, independent nature of man, would like to deliver results that cannot be said to be the way man is. And in fact, it will make a lot of sense if someone says today: a chemist who forms a world view, a physicist who forms a world view, will be pushed by the objectivity of his view to develop something that is valid for all people, so to speak, that cannot be said to be similar to what the human being is as a whole. In a sense, objective science must flourish independently of the moral or other state of the soul. One can say: this science has risen to its highest triumphs in the last few centuries, especially in the very last century. Not that one would want to believe that it is already sophistically oriented spiritual science, it still has this meaning to an increased extent. For anthroposophically oriented spiritual science wants to be an active force in life. And how could it become that if it could not find some impulses for morality, for social life, which arguably include the greatest problems of our present day. But again and again, when such a question is raised, attention is drawn to the special nature of today's scientific spirit. This scientific spirit, it would like to develop in a way that actually contradicts Fichte's dictum. Today's scientific spirit, which has developed the way of thinking and the methods that are particularly suitable for the external, independent nature of man, would like to deliver results that cannot be said to be the way man is. And in fact, it will make a lot of sense if someone says today: a chemist who forms a world view, a physicist who forms a world view, will be pushed by the objectivity of his view to develop something that is valid for all people, so to speak, that cannot be said to be similar to what the human being is as a whole. In a sense, objective science must flourish independently of the moral or other state of the soul. One can say that this scientific nature has risen to its highest triumphs in the last few centuries, especially in the very last century. Not that one would believe that they already talk this way, that they say: you don't make social life with moral principles. That was considered almost the most outstanding axiom in the socialist-thinking circles of modern times, that all the social life drawn from moral or socially conceived maxims is an illusion. And the socialists' social attitude actually fed on this axiom. It was said that what really matters is not how some class, how some individual person thinks about what should actually happen socially, but that it matters that one turns to those people in whose egoism, in whose entirely natural, elementary egoism it lies to shape the world as it must be shaped – and that is the proletarian demand. I would like to say that, precisely because of the modern spirit of science, every moral principle, every social view not based on egoism, has been eliminated. And as long as we do not realize what this means for the whole course of the world in modern times, and as long as we do not want to see how our social needs arise from the feelings and thoughts of human beings, we will not be able to approach what our time particularly needs in this respect. The scientific spirit of modern times is therefore powerless against moral and social impulses, as is simply shown by the historical course of events. What emanates from this spirit, however, flows through a certain social necessity into the minds of the broadest classes of people. And it is out of this attitude that even those who know nothing about science, who have not arrived at science, judge the social affairs of this world. What does that mean in this case? The social affairs are viewed in such a way that everything that must appear in a healthy way as a social and moral evaluation of some fact for humanity is also, as in the shaping of science, eliminated. Anthroposophically oriented spiritual science wants to take this fact into account in particular. It wants to become a power that is able to unleash such moral impulses in the individual human being that these moral impulses can prevail in a socially beneficial way. But then the anthroposophical school of thought must lead, I would say, in the way people who develop it look at world phenomena, to bring the moral and the social into it so that one sees it. In the lecture you gave earlier, you humorously showed how people are talked into all sorts of things in our social and economic life, and how these people then add these things to their household goods. Such things must be seen in their symptomatic aspect, and they are seen in their symptomatic aspect only when one can draw the connecting lines from them to the great events of world history. For if it were not for the fact that people let these things be talked into them by the peddlers, then there would not be that either – for things are connected in social life – which at the end was told to us about the horrific militarization of economic life. What is truly effective in the here and now is what matters. And I would like to paint a picture for you, prompted, so to speak, by the humorous account I have just given, of how such peddling has an antisocial, dare I say it, anti-moral effect. Once, when I was at a fair, a trader was selling huge amounts of soap. Now, ladies and gentlemen, an observation that really leads to social thinking must inspire the human mind to arrive at a point in life where soaps are offered that can be used for washing. But that was completely out of the question with the soaps offered by this trader. Those who tried it afterwards soon gave up the attempt to wash themselves with it permanently. But the trader did great business, and I will tell you how he did it. He had large bales of such soap next to him. He stood on a podium; he took a number of soaps from the first bundle. Now he was, in the best sense, what you might call a representative person. In the most wonderful phrases, he presented the excellence of his soap to his audience, and he called forth the opinion that this must be a particularly valuable soap, which one can pay well for, through everything he did there. And then he sold about ten soaps, piece by piece, for a very high price, the individual piece. This price was paid by those who happened to have the money in their pockets, and they were very happy to have received such good soaps; for they recognized the quality of the soap by the high price. Now they were standing there. The man had achieved as a representative personality what he wanted to achieve, and he was no longer interested in being this representative personality. Therefore, he said later: Oh, the way I've been selling the soaps up to now, they're much too expensive! These soaps are only worth half the price. I will sell them at half price from now on. And now he had the kind of customers again who would buy from him, and he was able to suggest to them that he was such a good man that he would sell the soap cheaper than the first buyers, who were still standing there, had received it. They didn't complain, but instead — excuse the harsh expression — opened their mouths wide. But then, when he still had a considerable number of bars of soap from the first bundle, he said: “But I'm a good man, I won't sell this last bar of soap at all, I'll throw it away.” And so he threw all the soap among the audience and they could pick it up for free. I am telling you this fact not only because it is grotesque in itself, but because I also learned something else that is highly interesting. All this had happened and the salesman went to his second bundle, and he did it again in the same way, and in all three stages, and he again got rid of his bars of soap in all three stages! This seems to me to be extraordinarily symptomatic, ladies and gentlemen, because when I look at the big businesses that are being done in the world, and when I look at the consuming public and how it relates to them, then I actually see all three stages continually there, and one can see from the perception of these three stages how internally impossible our economic structure actually is. But precisely under the modern spirit of science, this truly healthy, truly practical thinking has been lost. For practical thinking, which does not remain within the routine, but becomes a true purpose in life, must above all see reality in things, see what lies within them, not what is only outwardly before the eyes, and in which one can beguile people with all kinds of suggestions. It is very often slanderously said of anthroposophical spiritual science that it seeks to exert some kind of suggestive power. In the example I have told you, which certainly did not originate with an anthroposophist, there was a great deal of suggestive power that is very common today, a suggestive power that its audience knows very well. In contrast to this, anthroposophical spiritual science wants to provide something that is capable, through its inner vitality, of effectively seeing through social and moral connections, of finding something in the human being that find something that may be as Fichte's sentence expresses it: that it is of the same nature as the human being itself, but at the same time can be effective within the moral and social world. But if we really want to understand the spiritual life, then, ladies and gentlemen, we have to make some effort, and so, just to illustrate my train of thought today, allow me to go into something that can illustrate it a little from a completely objective point of view, without regard to personalities, from a certain quarter. You see, when I spoke about it in Stuttgart, people from all sorts of different quarters believed that I consider Count Hermann Keyserling's comments about me to be a lie, and people from various quarters believed that I was personally annoyed and speaking about such a matter for some personal reason. But that was not the case at all, because I can give you the most honest assurance: I couldn't care less about what Count Hermann Keyserling thinks of me; I don't care about a personal attack. But there is something else I do care about: I care about looking at the phenomena that occur in our lives in terms of their ethical and moral value. And here I must say the following: I consider it one of the greatest achievements of modern science that – even if not always in practice, at least in the theories expressed – this modern science tends towards the proposition that one should not simply express what one subjectively believes to be true, but that one must absolutely recognize the obligation to first truly fathom the truth of what one expresses. It is usually not recognized that there is something extraordinarily progressive in the assertion of this sentence, because anyone who is a historian or a scientist cannot and must not content themselves with the excuse that they have heard this or that here or there, but they are obliged to recognize the basis of truth for what they say. And this principle must be incorporated into our moral life, because if the moral life is to be the basis of the social, then morality must be permeated by objective truth and not merely by subjectively believed truth, because it is not this subjectively believed truth that has an effect on social life, but only objectively experienced truth. It must be said that we are now living in an age in which the split between knowledge and belief has led to a situation in which, whenever someone asserts something that they have believed and that subsequently turns out to be objectively untrue, they excuse themselves by saying that a person is entitled to assert what they believe to be the truth to the best of their knowledge and belief. My dear audience, this principle allows the possibility of every possible objective untruth entering into public life, and only by combating this principle can morality be brought into our social life, and into our business and economic life. Therefore, because I always want to make use of the spirit of truth that is necessary for anthroposophy on the one hand and for all of modern life on the other, I had to assert this spirit of truth in the face of what has occurred on the characterized side. I was interested in this as a cultural phenomenon, not as a personal matter, and as a cultural phenomenon it actually leads to that deeper concept of truth that we so urgently need today. You see, it is easy to say that Count Hermann Keyserling is not an opponent of anthroposophy. Count Hermann Keyserling himself wanted to prove to me that he was not an opponent of anthroposophy, and that is why he wrote me a long letter a long time ago. But this long letter was written in a handwriting that I could not read; the lines that went across were always crossed by others, the letters were written in a highly sloppy and careless manner, and I really could not finish reading this letter. The person who is able to judge the world and people not according to arbitrary principles but according to essential inner symptoms could say to himself – this writing is of course not the reason I want to give for the underlying facts, but it is a symptom –: this writing, and the way such a letter is brought about, does not provide the human basis for what is attributed to Count Hermann Keyserling from certain quarters. And if you then approach his works, you find something, you find what I now express as my conviction: if Count Hermann Keyserling were to say that he was a very devious opponent and enemy of anthroposoph , dear ladies and gentlemen, I would believe him and I would find it entirely justified, because the person who writes Count Keyserling's books cannot be a follower of and cannot be an objective judge of anthroposophy. But if he says that he is not an opponent, then he is telling an objective untruth. When Count Hermann Keyserling says that he is not an opponent of anthroposophy, to me that says much more about his dishonesty than if he had honestly said that he must be an opponent. I do understand that there must be opponents; but the fact that there are people, numerous people, who today even become fashionable, who simply say the opposite of what is now their inner truth as an outer truth, that goes against the principle of anthroposophy, which looks everywhere for inner truth and not for outer truth, which is then no truth but only an apparent truth. I wanted to emphasize this, dear attendees, for the reason that one should not always misjudge what the innermost impulse of anthroposophical sentiment is, and so that one may know that this anthroposophical sentiment touches the nerve of the present world, and it makes the claim not only to say what has already been said in the same sense, but to say it in a way demanded by the spirit of the time; but that demands that we even learn to think anew about lie and truth. This, however, is the only thing that can guide us when we approach such an important problem as anthroposophy as a moral and social creative force. For there we must look at the fact that anthroposophy not only embraces this modern scientific spirit, this modern scientific spirit, but that it also develops that which is already present as a germ in this modern science, developing this germ more and more, while this germ is not developed by this modern science. Therefore, my dear audience, in its beginning, Anthroposophy is quite like modern science, but by inwardly grasping the essence of this modern science, it leads in its further course to where not only the facts of external nature are understood, but where the facts of the inner life of man are also understood, for example, the instincts or the will. And we will only come to grasp the true core of anthroposophy, on the one hand, and to understand the moral and social impulses of anthroposophy, on the other, if we realize how the [scientific] spirit, which otherwise only grasps external natural facts, can can reach in, transforming and metamorphosing itself, into what the human being is in his instincts, for example, in his will impulses; for this is connected with the actual character of our present epoch, which began in the 15th century and in which we still find ourselves today. In the 15th century, the first seeds of the modern scientific spirit were sown, and this modern scientific spirit had to develop in a one-sided way. I cannot go into this in more detail now; I have explained it many times in other places. It had to develop the inner soul constitution in such a way that it was capable of pursuing the connection between external natural phenomena in a lawful way. In order that this one-sided power of the human soul-life might develop vigorously in spite of its one-sidedness, the other powers of human life and human organization had to be left behind for a while. What first developed in a one-sided way was that which guided human beings to let a conscious soul-life take the place of an old instinctive soul-life. No matter how much one may declaim about the fact that man has lost his naivety as a result of consciousness having taken the place of the old instinctive, such declaiming has no more value than if one complains that one used to be twenty years old and looked a certain way, and now one is older. These things cannot be criticized, but must simply be recognized in their necessity. From the 15th century onwards, humanity had to pass over into consciousness, and it did so first in the realm of imaginative life. But even this imaginative life was formerly placed in the instinctive life. Those who are truly familiar with the totality of civilization and cultural life that preceded the 15th century, including Greek civilization, know how all the powers of the human soul worked instinctively in those days, and how even what was called scientific worked, in certain respects, much more instinctively, out of the instinct-based human soul condition, than it does today. And in this human soul-condition, borne by instinct, in which a world necessity beyond human beings was at work, a kind of threefold structure of this social life has always emerged, approximately, until the 15th century, as human beings have worked in social life. The instincts have worked, I might say, with natural certainty – if I may use this not quite proper expression. People have integrated themselves into the social organism through their instincts, and through what they have done in the process, what they have achieved – whether in these or those life situations that arose from people acting on instinct – a certain structure of the social organism has emerged in the spiritual sphere, in the legal-constitutional sphere and in the economic sphere. This threefold social order, which today must be spoken of consciously, was basically present, even if this is not apparent to some people today who do not understand the threefold social order at all. , by feeling that he was part of the social life, he received what he needed to satisfy his imaginative, [his soul's] and his will needs, he received it from a spiritual member of the social organism, from a state-legal and from an economic one. They were in a relationship that was understood by humanity at that time through their instincts and that they could satisfy through their predispositions. Of course, today we no longer know what to do with this old structure. But now came the newer time. It was the time when people developed their imaginative life one-sidedly. It was the first half of the 15th century, the 16th, 17th century, and partly still the 18th century. Beneath the imaginative life that had become conscious, there still glimmered what was left of the inheritance of the old instincts. And I would like to say that something instinctive was still at work in the moral and social spheres, while man passed over this world and looked at that which was now already emerging from his fully conscious life of ideas. But since then, since the 18th century, these instincts have completely died out, and what remains are only abstract traditions. We do not live today with an elementally generated morality and justice of the social world; we live because the instincts that used to establish social orders are no longer active. And as much as the Marxists believe that they live in Marxism, they live in the most ancient traditions, which can be seen from the fact that they always want to explain the conditions of social life from the prehistory of wild and barbaric peoples. This is what has developed up to our most recent times. But this, ladies and gentlemen, has also led to the fact that man now only wants to approach social and moral life with his imagination, which has been developed one-sidedly, and that out of the old tradition, moral institutions and social institutions have arisen alongside it, for which only traditions remain, with which human life in its reality is no longer connected. And while instinct, the instinct-based state of mind, has, out of a sense of world necessity, placed the spiritual alongside the legal and the economic, the not yet fully developed life of ideas, the one-sidedly developed life of ideas, lacks the possibility of seeing through this structure of the social organism. What the human being can think and what he has in the way of traditions are mixed up in a chaotic way. He does not have the impetus to see the correct characteristics of spiritual, legal-state, and economic life, and in recent times he has mixed them up into chaos in all areas of state life. This chaos is the latest phase in the development of the social organism. Man, placed in the social order, wants to receive from the spiritual life, out of his human nature, what this alone can give him in his freedom; he wants to receive from the legal-state life what this alone can give him when all mature people can have a say, and from the economic life what this alone can give when it is formed out of expertise and specialist knowledge in associations. Everything that a human being, in accordance with his nature, can only receive from a properly structured social organism, he should receive today from a chaos, from a chaotic formation of this social organism. This, ladies and gentlemen, is the fundamental cause of the crisis we are facing today; for everything you can describe in the field of education, in the field of the free intellectual life, insofar as it has still retained its freedom, everything you can describe in the fields of business life, the other economic sectors, all these are special crises in the face of the great crisis, [which consists in] the fact that man today, without the broad masses actually knowing it, is placed in a social chaos that actually rejects his innermost being. And this rejection manifests itself in the revolutionary, social-revolutionary forces of the present. And as long as one does not realize that the basis for our present world crisis lies in this modern powerlessness of man to see through the structure of the social organism, one will also be unable to have any understanding for the reforming forces of this world crisis. Within the threefold structure of the social organism, however, there is one area that works differently from the others: the economic area. Economic life, which produces goods according to human needs, is subject to a certain necessity. These needs arise. This economic life still gives itself its social impulses in the same way as it used to give them according to old traditions. Man must pay attention to this. He has no freedom here, no arbitrariness. With regard to the legal and state life, and especially with regard to the spiritual life, he can divert attention from that which is really essential to him, and for the reasons I have given, modern humanity has diverted its attention from the structure of the social organism. This has become evident: that this turning away has initially only led to the neglect of progress in intellectual and legal life, but that economic life, as was to be expected from such neglect, could not but develop in a one-sided way. And so today we have a public thinking that basically pays no attention to intellectual and legal life, but continues to work in old forms, in old traditions, and which, through the natural economic necessities to see everything it thinks at congresses and other gatherings, in war and peace resolutions, solely in the light of this economic life. And the means by which man could truly intervene in social life in the past were his instincts and his will. Anthroposophy shows us how man, through the activity of his will and his instincts, continually draws from a subconscious realm, just as he draws strength from sleep, which is also a subconscious state. Anthroposophical knowledge must absolutely place what the human being experiences in relation to the actual essence of his will in parallel with what he calls sleep. It is a sleep that we continually carry around in us as we let our will impulses work from the unconscious, just as the refreshing forces that approach our life work from what we gain in our sleep. But in relation to social life, this unconscious was only possible in a certain period of time; it has no longer been possible since the middle of the 15th century. And here natural science is subjecting itself to a great, a powerful illusion: it wants to explain everything scientifically, it wants to include the human being in this scientific explanation, and from the principles it has formed about natural facts, it now wants to explain instinct and will. She constructs views about instinct and will that are actually only continued views about external natural existence. But anthroposophical spiritual insight shows us that instinct and will are rooted in their deeper essence in the spiritual and not in the natural, which we can only reach with natural science. Instinct and will are rooted in the spirit; they only integrate themselves in the human being. They reveal themselves in the human being in a natural shell. It is only this natural shell that science approaches; it does not approach the actual essence of instinct and will at all. But by taking the path from external natural science to a spiritual science, anthroposophy is able to see through not only the shell, the cover of instinct and will, but the true essence of instinct and will. And in so doing, it not only brings up into abstract thinking that which works as instinct and will, but the essence of instinct and will comes alive in the life of imagination. Anthroposophy begins as the most modern science as knowledge; in the further pursuit of its path, it leads to life, it leads the human being to submerge into those depths where instinct and will are rooted spiritually in the spirit. She may say, because she is a living being, with Fichte: What view one forms depends on what kind of person one is – because she is able, through her liveliness, to be allowed to work in the sense of this saying and yet be able to bear fruit for the moral, for the social life. What kind of mind one has, dear attendees, depends to a certain extent on the nature of the rest of the human organism. But if we focus only on what lives in the mind, we fail to grasp the rest of the organism; then the rest of the organism seems like an unknown. Thus, for the modern scientific mind, that which works in the will below the level of the life of ideas still appears as an unknown. If, then, this modern science works in the way that the human being is constituted, it does not see through, and therefore does not experience, what is in the human being's will nature, because it does not penetrate into this will nature of the human being. By rising from knowledge to full life, anthroposophy flows with all human consciousness into the stream of instinct and will, making them conscious, and one thereby acquires the possibility of working not only on one's thinking but on one's whole human being. But then, when we have a science that works on the whole human being, then, while we think, that which may influence this thinking arises in the other person. Then knowledge and life work as an organic whole, where one determines the other simultaneously, not one after the other. Then, in this organic interaction, philosophy, including moral philosophy, may be what the human being can make of them by virtue of his or her nature. These, esteemed attendees, are the things we must look at if we want to recognize anthroposophy as a moral and social impulse. This is what anthroposophy believes it has to say to our time in this regard, to which it feels obliged to say it. And it must be convinced that the possibility of replacing the oppressive forces with constructive ones will not arise until people decide, when discussing economic issues, to look at what is beneficial for the spiritual and for the legal life, until they have a true heart for what alone can become lawful and what can only arise from the harmony of all of all mature human beings in their independent legal lives, before they do not have a deep feeling that genuine spiritual life can only flourish when it is left to its own devices, that the three can only work together as they once worked together out of instinct, when consciousness out of man finds its way to the secrets of the world, to which it once found its way when it still worked only instinctively. This time will be the time when people no longer marvel at the world like Woodrow Wilson — at least he was, even if he is no longer — justify the state administration of school education by saying that only the state is capable of creating the conditions of freedom in which the free individual can live. Well, my dear audience, such a freedom is only to be allowed to prevail if it is conditioned, that is, made necessary by state institutions. And further, in his great book “The State”, published in 1889, Woodrow Wilson says: the state must not give up control of the schools, because what the state needs for its power, for its authoritative effectiveness, it can best achieve by owning the teaching. Now, my dear audience, anyone who feels what freedom of spiritual life should and must be must rebel against a maxim that says: the state must instill in children what it needs for its preservation – because by saying this, it is saying that the state must establish in schools that which is not freedom of spiritual life, which is the deepest lack of freedom in spiritual life. As long as scientists do not have an eye, an eye of the soul, to look up to what is thought about the spiritual, about the legal, there can be no improvement in our present moral life, which underlies the social, and in this social life itself, because we not only need a critique of the old moral instincts, a critique of the old social concepts, we need the creation of new moral impulses and new social impulses. But these can only come about through a science, through a knowledge that, by spiritualizing human knowledge itself, is also capable of penetrating into the spiritual world. |
| 35. Collected Essays on Philosophy and Anthroposophy 1904–1923: Theosophy in Germany a Hundred Years Ago
04 Jun 1906, Paris Rudolf Steiner |
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| 35. Collected Essays on Philosophy and Anthroposophy 1904–1923: Theosophy in Germany a Hundred Years Ago
04 Jun 1906, Paris Rudolf Steiner |
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Those who describe the intellectual life of Germany from the end of the eighteenth and the beginning of the nineteenth century usually see, alongside the high point of art in Lessing, Herder, Schiller, Goethe, Mozart, Beethoven and others, only an epoch of purely speculative thought in Kant, Fichte, Schelling, Hegel, Schopenhauer and a few less important philosophers. It is widely believed that the latter personalities should be recognized merely as workers in the field of thought. It is admitted that they have done extraordinary work in the speculative field, but one is all too easily inclined to say that these thinkers were quite remote from actual occult research, from real spiritual experience. And so it happens that the theosophically striving person expects little profit from delving into their works. Many who attempt to penetrate the thought-web of these philosophers give up the work after a time, because they find it unproductive. The scientific investigator says to himself: These thinkers have lost the solid ground of experience under their feet; they have built up in the nebulous heights the chimeras of systems, without any regard to positive reality. And for those interested in occultism, they lack the truly spiritual foundations. He comes to the conclusion: They knew nothing of spiritual experiences, of supersensible facts, and merely devised intellectual constructs. As long as one stops at merely observing the outer aspects of the spiritual development, one will not easily come to a different opinion. But if one penetrates to the underlying currents, then the whole epoch presents itself in a different light. The apparent airy constructs of mere thought can be recognized as the expression of a deeper occult life. And Theosophy can then provide the key to understanding what these sixty to seventy years of spiritual life mean in the development of humanity. In Germany at this time, there are two sets of facts, one of which represents the surface, but the other must be regarded as a deeper foundation. The whole thing gives the impression of a flowing stream, on the surface of which the waves ripple in the most diverse ways. And what is presented in the usual literary histories is only these rising and falling waves; but what lives in the depths and from which the waves actually draw their nourishment is ignored. This depth contains a rich and fertile occult life. And this is none other than that which once pulsated in the works of the great German mystics, Paracelsus, Jakob Böhme and Angelus Silesius. Like a hidden power, this life was contained in the worlds of thought that Lessing, Herder, Schiller, Goethe, Fichte, Schelling and Hegel found there. The way in which, for example, Jakob Böhme had expressed his great spiritual experiences was no longer at the forefront of the prevailing literary discussion, but the spirit of these experiences continued to live on. One can see how, for example, this spirit lived on in Herder. Public discussion led Herder, like Goethe, to the study of Spinoza. In the work which he called “God,” Herder sought to deepen the conception of God in Spinozism. What he contributed to Spinozism was nothing other than the spirit of German mysticism. One could say that, unconsciously to himself, Jakob Böhme and Angelus Silesius were his guides. It is from such hidden sources that we can explain how, in the “Education of the Human Race”, a rationalist spirit such as Lessing was, could have incorporated ideas about reincarnation. The term “unconscious” is, however, only half accurate, because such ideas and intuitions may not have been on the surface of literary discussion in Germany, but they certainly lived a full life in the most diverse “occult societies” and “fraternities”. But of the above, only Goethe can be considered as having been initiated into the most intimate life of such “fraternities”; the others had only a more superficial connection with them. Much of it found its way into their lives and work as inspiration, without their being fully aware of the real sources. In this respect, Schiller represents an interesting phenomenon of intellectual development. We cannot understand the real intellectual nerve of his life if we do not delve into his youthful works, which can be found in his writings as “Correspondence between Julius and Raphael”. Some of the material contained in it was written by Schiller while he was still at the Karls School in Stuttgart, while some of it was only written in 1785 and 1786. It contains what Schiller calls the “theosophy of Julius” and by which he refers to the sum of ideas to which he had risen at that time. It is only necessary to cite the most important thoughts from this “theosophy” to characterize the way in which this genius assembled his own edifice of ideas from the rudiments of German mysticism that were accessible to him. Such essential thoughts are, for example, the following: “The universe is a thought of God. After this ideal image of the spirit had passed over into reality and the born world fulfilled the design of its creator – allow me this human conception – so the vocation of all thinking beings is to seek out in this existing whole the first drawing, the rule in the machine, the unity in the composition, the law in the phenomenon, and to transfer the building backwards to its ground plan... The great composition that we call the world now remains strange to me only because it exists, symbolically describing to me the manifold expressions of that being. Everything in and outside of me is only a hieroglyph of a force that is similar to me. The laws of nature are the ciphers that the thinking being puts together to make itself understood to the thinking being – the alphabet by means of which all spirits negotiate with the most perfect spirit and with themselves... A new experience in this realm of truth, gravity, the discovery of blood circulation, the Linnaean system of nature, mean to me originally just what an antique, excavated in the Herculaneum - both only a reflection of a spirit, a new acquaintance with a similar being to me ... There is no longer any wilderness for me in all of nature. Where I discover a body, I sense a spirit. Where I perceive movement, I divine a thought... We have concepts of the wisdom of the supreme being, of his goodness, of his justice – but none of his omnipotence. To describe his omnipotence, we help ourselves with the piecemeal notion of three successions: Nothing, His Will, and Something. It is waste and dark – God calls: Light – and there is Light. If we had a real idea of His active omnipotence, then we would be creators, like He is... Such were the ideas of Schiller's theosophy when he was in his early twenties. And from this basis he rises to the comprehension of human spiritual life itself, which he places in the context of cosmic forces: “Love, therefore, - the most beautiful phenomenon in the creation of the soul, the almighty magnet in the spiritual world, the source of devotion and the loftiest virtue – love is only the reflection of this one power, an attraction of excellence, based on an instantaneous exchange of personality, a confusion of beings. When I hate, I take something away; when I love, I become richer by what I love. Forgiveness is the recovery of a lost possession—hatred of men is prolonged suicide; selfishness is the greatest poverty of a created being.” From there, Schiller then seeks a God idea that corresponds to his feelings, which he presents in the following sentences: “All perfection in the universe is united in God. God and nature are two forces that are completely equal... It is a truth that, like a fixed axis, runs through all religions and systems - ‘Draw near to God, you who believe’.” If we compare these statements of the young Schiller with the teachings of the German mystics, we will find that the latter have sharply defined thought contours that appear in his work as the exuberant expression of a more general world of feeling. Paracelsus, Jakob Böhme, Angelus Silesius have as a definite view of their intuitive mind what Schiller has in mind in the vague presentiment of feeling. What comes to light in such a characteristic way in Schiller is also present in other of his contemporaries. Intellectual history only has to describe it in his case, because in his epoch-making works it has become a driving force for the nation. One can say that in Schiller's time, the spiritual world of facts of German mysticism as intuition, as direct experience of spiritual life, was hidden as if under a veil; but it lived on in the realm of feeling, in intuitive perceptions. People had retained devotion and enthusiasm for that which they no longer directly saw with the “spiritual senses.” We are dealing with an epoch in which spiritual vision was veiled, but in which feeling and intuitive sensing of this world were not. All this process is now based on a certain lawful necessity. What entered into seclusion as spiritual vision emerged as artistic life in this period of German intellectual life. In occultism, one speaks of successive cycles of involution and evolution. Here we are dealing with such a cycle on a small scale. The art of Germany in the epoch of Schiller and Goethe is nothing more than the evolution of German mysticism in the realm of outer sensuous form. But in the creations of the German poets, the deeper insight recognizes the intuitions of the great mystical age of Germany. The mystical life of the past now takes on an entirely aesthetic, artistic character. This is clearly expressed in the writing in which Schiller reached the full height of his world view, in his “Letters on the Aesthetic Education of Man”. The occult dogmatist will perhaps find nothing in these Letters either but the brilliant speculations of a fine artistic mind. In reality, however, they are dominated by the endeavour to give a guide to a different state of consciousness from the ordinary one. They describe one stage on the way to the “higher self”. The state of consciousness that Schiller describes is indeed far removed from the astral or devachanic life of experience; but it does represent something higher than our everyday life. And if we approach it with an open mind, we can very well recognize in what can be called the 'aesthetic state', according to Schiller, a preliminary stage of those higher forms of intuition. Schiller wants to lead people beyond the standpoint of the 'lower self'. This lower self is characterized by two qualities. Firstly, it is necessarily dependent on the influences of the sensual world. Secondly, it is subject to the demands of logical and moral necessity. It is thus unfree in two directions. The sensual world prevails in its drives, instincts, perceptions, passions and so on. In his thinking and in his morality, the necessity of reason prevails. But only the person who has ennobled his feelings, drives, desires, wishes, and so on, so that only the spiritual is expressed in them, and who, on the other hand, has so completely absorbed the necessity of reason in himself that it is the expression of his own being, is free in Schiller's sense. A life led in this way can be characterized as one in which a harmonious balance has been achieved between the lower and higher selves. Man has ennobled his desire nature to such an extent that it is the embodiment of his “higher self”. Schiller sets this high ideal in these “Letters”, and he finds that in artistic creation and in pure aesthetic devotion to a work of art, there is an approach to this ideal. Thus, for him, life in art becomes a genuine means of educating the human being in the development of his “higher self”. For him, the true work of art is a perfect harmony of spirit and sensuality, of higher life and outer form. The sensual is only a means of expression; but the spiritual only becomes a work of art when it has found its expression entirely in the sensual. Thus the creative artist lives in spirit, but he lives in it in a completely sensual way; through him, everything spiritual becomes perceptible through the senses. And the person who immerses himself aesthetically perceives through his external senses; but what he perceives is completely spiritualized sensuality. So we are dealing with a harmony between spirit and sensuality; the sensual appears ennobled to the spirit, the spiritual comes to revelation to the point of sensual vividness. Schiller would also like to make this “aesthetic state” the model for social coexistence. He regards as unfree a social relationship in which people base their mutual relationships only on the desires of the lower self, of egoism. But a state in which mere legislation of reason is called upon to rein in the lower instincts and passions seems no less unfree to him. As an ideal, he posits a social constitution within which the individual feels the 'higher self' of the whole to be so strong as his own being that he acts 'selflessly' out of his innermost urge. The “individual ego” should come to the point where it becomes the expression of the “total ego”. Schiller perceives social action that is driven by such impulses as the action of “beautiful souls”; and such “beautiful souls”, which bring the spirit of the “higher self” to revelation in their everyday nature, are for Schiller also the truly “free souls”. He wants to lead humanity to “truth” through beauty and art. One of his core sayings is: Only through the dawn of the beautiful does man enter the land of knowledge. Thus, from Schiller's world view, art is assigned a high educational mission in the evolutionary process of humanity. One could say that what Schiller presents here is the aesthetic-artistic mysticism of the earlier period of German intellectual life. It might now appear that it is difficult to build a bridge from Schiller's aestheticism to another personality of the same period, but who is no less to be understood as coming from an occult undercurrent, namely Johann Gottlieb Fichte. On superficial examination, Fichte will be seen as a mere speculative thinker, as an intellectual. It is true that his domain is that of thought, and that those who want to seek out spiritual heights that lie above the world of thought will not find them with Fichte. Those who want a description of “higher worlds” will look for them in vain with him. Fichte has no experience of an astral or mental world. According to the content of his philosophy, he is concerned only with ideas that belong to the physical world. But the matter presents itself quite differently when one looks at his treatment of the world of thought. This treatment is by no means a merely speculative one. It is one that corresponds entirely to occult experience. Fichte only considers thoughts that relate to the physical world; but he considers these as an occultist would. Therefore, he himself is quite aware of leading a life in higher worlds. One need only see how he expresses himself in the lectures he gave in Berlin in 1813: “Imagine a world of the blind-born, to whom only those things and their relationships are known that exist through the sense of touch. Stand among them and speak to them of colors and the other qualities that are perceived only through the light of sight. Either you speak to them of nothing, and this is fortunate if they say so; for in this way you will soon notice the error and, if you are unable to open their eyes, you will stop talking to no avail... Or, for some reason, they want to give your teaching reason after all: so they can understand it only in terms of what they know through touch: they will want to feel light and colors and the other relationships of visibility, assume they feel it, contrive something within the feeling and lie to themselves about what they call color. Then they misunderstand, distort, and misinterpret.” At another time, Fichte says directly that for him his contemplation of the world is not merely a speculation about that which the ordinary senses give, but that a higher sense, reaching beyond these, is necessary for it: ”The new sense is is the sense for the spirit; for the one who is only spirit and absolutely nothing else, and to whom even the other, the given being, takes on the form of the spirit and is transformed into it, to whom therefore being in its own form has indeed disappeared... This sense has been seen in this way since the beginning of time, and everything great and excellent in the world, which alone makes humanity endure, comes from the visions of this sense. But that this sense should have seen itself in its difference and contrast to the other ordinary sense was not the case. The impressions of the two senses merged, and life disintegrated into these two halves without a unifying bond.” These last words are extremely characteristic of Fichte's place in the world of spiritual life. For the merely external (exoteric) philosophical striving of the West, it is indeed true that the sense of which Fichte speaks “did not see itself”. In all mystical currents of spiritual life that are based on occult experience and esoteric contemplation, it is clearly expressed; but, as already mentioned, the deeper basis for this was unknown in the prevailing literary and scholarly discussions of Fichte's time. In the terminology of contemporary German philosophy, Fichte was indeed the scout and discoverer of this higher meaning. That is why he started from something quite different than other philosophers. As a teacher he demanded of his students, and as a writer of his readers, that they should first of all perform an inner deed of the soul. He did not want to impart knowledge of anything outside of themselves, but he did make the demand that they perform an inner act. And through this inner act they were to ignite the true light of self-awareness within themselves. Like most philosophers of his time, he started from Kant's philosophy. Therefore, he expressed himself in the form of Kant's terminology, just as Schiller did in his mature years. But in terms of the height of inner, spiritual life, he surpassed Kantian philosophy very far, just as Schiller did. If one attempts to translate Fichte's demands on his listeners and readers from the difficult philosophical language into a more popular form, it might be expressed something like this: Every thing and every fact perceived by man imposes its existence on him. It is there without any action on the part of man, as far as his deepest inner being is concerned. The table, the flower, the dog, a light phenomenon and so on are there through something foreign to man; and it is only for man to determine the existence that has come about without him. For Fichte, the situation is different with the “I” of man. It is only there in so far as it attains being itself through its own activity. Therefore the sentence “I am” means something quite different from any other sentence. Fichte demanded that one should become conscious of this self-creative process as the starting point for any spiritual contemplation of the world. In every other realization, man can only be receptive; in the case of the “I” he must be creative. And he can perceive his “I” only by looking at himself as the creator of this “I. Thus Fichte demands a completely different way of looking at the ‘I’ than at all other things. And he is as strict as possible in this demand. He says, ”Most people would be more easily persuaded to consider themselves a piece of lava in the moon than an I...” He who is not yet at peace with himself on this point does not understand fundamental philosophy, and does not need it. Nature, of which he is a machine, will guide him without any effort of his own in all the business he has to carry out. To philosophize requires independence: and this one can only give oneself. - We should not want to see without the eye; but we should not claim that the eye sees either." This very sharply delineates the boundary between ordinary experience and the occult. Ordinary perception and experience extend no further than the organs of perception that are objectively built into the human being. The occult begins where man begins to build higher organs of perception for himself through the dormant powers within him. Within ordinary experience, man can only feel himself to be a creature. When he begins to feel himself as the creator of his being, he enters the realm of the so-called occult life. The way Fichte characterizes the “I am” is entirely in line with occultism. Even though he remains in the realm of pure thought, his contemplation is not mere speculation, but true inner experience. But for this very reason it is also all too easy to mistake his world view for mere speculation. Those who are driven by curiosity into the higher worlds will not find what they are looking for by delving into Fichte's philosophy. But for those who want to work on themselves, to discover the abilities slumbering in their souls, Fichte can be a good guide. He will realize that what matters is not the content of his teachings or dogmas, but the power that grows in the soul when one devotedly follows Fichte's thought paths. One might compare this thinker to the prophet who did not enter the promised land himself, but led his people to a summit from which they could see its glories. Fichte leads thinking to the summit from which entry into the land of the occult can be made. And the preparation that one acquires through him is as pure as can be imagined. For it completely transcends the realm of sense perception and the realm of that which originates from the desire and covetousness of man (from his astral body). Through Fichte, one learns to live and move in the very pure element of thought. One retains nothing of the physical world in the soul except what has been implanted from higher regions, namely thoughts. And these form a better bridge to spiritual experiences than the training of other psychic abilities. For thought is the same everywhere, whether it occurs in the physical, astral or mental world. Only its content is different in each of these worlds. And the supersensible worlds remain hidden from man only as long as he cannot completely remove sensual content from his thoughts. When the thought becomes free of sensuality, then only one step remains to be taken, and the supersensible world can be entered. The contemplation of one's own self in Fichte's sense is so significant because, with regard to this “self”, man remains without all thought content if he does not give himself such from within. For all the rest of the world, for all perception, feeling, will and so on, which make up the content of ordinary existence, the outer world fills the human being. He needs - in Fichte's words - basically to be nothing more than the “machine of nature”, which “manages its business without his intervention”. But the “I” remains empty, no outer world fills it with content if it does not come from within. Therefore, the realization “I am” can never be anything other than man's most intimate inner experience. Thus, there is something speaking in this sentence within the soul that can only speak from within. But the way this seemingly empty affirmation of one's own self occurs is how all higher occult experiences take place. They become richer in content and more vital, but they retain the same form. Through the experience of the I, as presented by Fichte, one can get to know the type of all occult experiences, at least in the purely mental sphere. It is therefore correct to say that with the “I am” God begins to speak in man. And it is only because this happens in a purely mental form that so many people do not want to recognize it. But now, precisely with the keenest minds, which walked in such ways as Fichte, a limit of knowledge had to occur. Pure thinking is namely only an activity of the personality, not of the individuality, which passes through the various personalities in recurring reincarnations. The laws of even the highest logic never change, even if in the stages of re-embodiments the human individuality ascends to the stage of the highest sage. The spiritual perception increases, the perceptive faculty expands when an individuality that was highly developed in one incarnation is re-embodied, but the logic of thought remains the same even for a higher level of consciousness. Therefore, that which goes beyond the individual incarnation can never be grasped by any experience of thought, no matter how subtle, even if it rises to the highest levels. This is the reason why Fichte's way of looking at things, and also that of his contemporaries who followed in his footsteps, could not bring them to a realization of the laws of reincarnation and karma. Although various indications can be found in the works of the thinkers of this epoch, they arise more from a general feeling and are not necessarily and organically connected with their thought-structures. It may be said that the mission of these personalities in the history of thought was to present pure thought experiences as they can take place within an incarnation, excluding everything that reaches beyond this one embodiment of the human being. The evolution of the human spirit proceeds in such a way that in certain epochs portions of the original esoteric wisdom are transferred into the consciousness of the people. And at the end of the eighteenth and the beginning of the nineteenth century, it fell to the German national consciousness to shape the spiritual life of pure thought in its relationship to the individual personal existence. If we consider what has already been said in connection with Schiller's personality, that at this time art was to be placed at the center of intellectual life, then we will find the emphasis on the personal point of view all the more understandable. Art is, after all, the living out of the spirit in sensuous, physical forms. But the perception of these forms is conditioned by the organization of the individual personality living within the one incarnation. What projects beyond the personality into the supersensible realm will no longer be able to find expression in art directly. Art does reflect the supersensible, but this reflection is only carried over as the fruit of artistic creation and experience by the abiding essence of the soul from one reincarnation to another. That which enters into existence directly as art and aesthetic experience is bound to the personality. Therefore, in the case of a personality from the characterized epoch, a theosophical world view in the most eminent sense also has a thoroughly personal character. This is the case with Friedrich von Hardenberg, who as a poet bears the name Novalis. He was born in 1772 and died as early as 1801. What lived in this soul, which was entirely permeated by theosophical sentiment, is contained in a few poems and a series of poetic-philosophical fragments. From every page of his creations, this attitude flows towards the reader; but everything is such that the highest spirituality is coupled with an immediate sensual passion, with very personal drives and instincts. A truly Pythagorean way of thinking lives in this young nature, which was further nourished by the fact that Novalis worked his way up to become a mining engineer through a thorough mathematical and scientific education. The way in which the human mind develops the laws of pure mathematics out of itself, without the help of any sensory perception, became for him the model for all supersensible knowledge in general. Just as the world is harmoniously structured according to the mathematical laws that the soul finds within itself, so he thought this could be applied to all the ideas underlying the world. That is why man's relationship to mathematics took on an almost devotional, religious character for him. Sayings like the following reveal the peculiarly Pythagorean nature of his disposition: “True mathematics is the actual element of the magician. ... The highest life is mathematics... The true mathematician is an enthusiast per se. Without enthusiasm, there is no mathematics. The life of the gods is mathematics. All divine messengers must be mathematicians. Pure mathematics is religion. One can only attain to mathematics through a theophany. Mathematicians are the only happy people. The mathematician knows everything. He could do it even if he didn't know it... In the East, true mathematics is at home. In Europe, it has degenerated into mere technique. He who does not grasp a mathematical book with reverence and read it as the word of God does not understand it... Miracles as unnatural facts are amathematical – but there is no miracle in this sense, and what is called a miracle is precisely understandable through mathematics, because there is nothing miraculous about mathematics." In such sayings, Novalis has in mind not merely a glorification of the science of numbers and spatial magnitudes, but the idea that all inner soul experiences should relate to the cosmos as the pure, sensuality-free, mathematical construction of the mind relates to the outer, numerically and spatially ordered harmony of the world. This is beautifully expressed when he says: “Humanity is, as it were, the higher meaning of our planet, the eye that it raises to heaven, the nerve that connects this limb to the upper world.” The identity of the human ego with the essence of the objective world is the leitmotif in all of Novalis's work. Among his “fragments” is the saying: “Among people, one must seek God. In human affairs, in human thoughts and feelings, the spirit of heaven reveals itself most brightly.” And he expresses the unity of the ‘higher self’ in all of humanity in the following way: ”In the I, in the point of freedom, we are all in fact completely identical - only from there does each individual separate. I is the absolute total place, the central point.” In Novalis, the position that the consciousness of the time assigned to art and artistic feeling is particularly evident. For him, art is something through which man grows beyond his narrowly defined “lower self” and through which he relates to the creative forces of the world. In the creative artistic imagination, he sees a reflection of the magical forces of action. Thus he can say: “The artist stands on man as the statue stands on the pedestal.” “Nature will be moral when, out of true love for art, it surrenders to art and does what art wills; art, when, out of true love for nature, it lives for nature and works for nature. Both must do it at the same time, of their own choosing, for their own sake, and of the other's choosing, for the sake of the other... When our intelligence and our world are in harmony, we are equal to God.” Novalis's lyric poems, especially his ‘Hymns to the Night,’ are imbued with such sentiments, as are his unfinished novel ‘Heinrich von Ofterdingen’ and the little work ‘The Apprentices at Sais,’ which is rooted entirely in mystical thinking and feeling. These few personalities show how German poetry and thought in that period was based on a theosophical-mystical undercurrent. The examples could be multiplied by numerous others. Therefore, it is not even possible to attempt to give a complete picture here, but only to characterize the basic note of this spiritual epoch with a few lines. It will not be difficult to see, however, that individual mystical and theosophical natures with a spiritual-intuitive mind found the theosophical basic ideas themselves in part in their own way from this whole life. Thus, theosophy shines out beautifully for us from the creations of some personalities of this epoch. Many could be cited where this is the case. Lorenz Oken could be mentioned, who founded a natural philosophy that, on the one hand, points back to Paracelsus and Jakob Böhme through its mystical spirit, and, on the other hand, is a forerunner of the justified parts of Darwinism through ingenious conceptions about evolution and the connection between living beings. Steffens could be cited, who sought in the processes of the development of the earth reflections of a cosmic spiritual life. One could refer to Eckartshausen (1752-1803), who sought to explain the abnormal phenomena of nature and soul life in a theosophical-mystical way. Ennemoser (1787-1854) with his “History of Magic”, Gotthilf Heinrich Schubert with his works on dream phenomena and the hidden facts in nature and the spirited explanations of Justinus Kerner, and Karl Gustav Carus are also rooted in the same school of thought. Schelling went from pure Fichteanism more and more to theosophy, and then in his “Philosophy of Mythology” and “Philosophy of Revelation,” which were not published until after his death, traced the developmental history of the human spirit and the connection between religions to their starting point in the mysteries. Hegel's philosophy should also be viewed in theosophical light, and then one would see how wrong it is in the history of philosophy to consider this profound spiritual experience of the soul to be mere speculation. All this requires, if it is to be treated exhaustively, a detailed work. Here, however, only a little-known personality is to be mentioned, who, in the focus of his mind, combined the rays of theosophical world-view and created a structure of ideas that in many respects completely coincides with the thoughts of theosophy that are being revived today. It is J. P. V. Troxler, who lived from 1780 to 1866 and whose works include, in particular, “Glimpses into the Essence of Man”, published in 1812. Troxler objects to the usual division of human nature into soul and body, which he finds misleading because it does not exhaust nature. He initially distinguishes between four elements of human nature: spirit, higher soul, soul (which he considers the lower soul) and body. One need only see this classification in the right light to recognize how close it is to the one commonly found in theosophical books today. The body as he understands it coincides completely with what is now called the physical body. The lower soul, or what he, in contrast to the body, calls the body, is nothing other than the so-called astral body. This is not something that has been inserted into his world of thought, but he himself says that what is subjectively the lower soul should be characterized objectively by resorting to the term astral body used by the ancient researchers. “There is therefore,” he explains, ”necessarily something in man which the sages of ancient times sensed and proclaimed as a σῶμα αστροειδες (Soma astroeides) and οὐρανόν σῶμα (Uranion soma), or as a σχῆμα πνευματικόν (schema pneumatikon), and what is the substrate of the middle sphere of life, the bond of the immortal and the mortal life?” Among the poets and philosophers who were Troxler's contemporaries, theosophy was alive as an undercurrent; but Troxler himself became keenly aware of this theosophy in the intellectual world around him and developed it in an original way. Thus, he comes to many of the ancient wisdom teachings through his own efforts. It is all the more appealing to delve into his thought processes, since he does not directly build on old traditions, but rather creates something like an original theosophy out of the thinking and attitudes of his time. |