The Rudolf Steiner Archive

The question repeatedly arises within the intellectual movement that this journal serves: How does theosophy relate to the scientific foundations of the epistemology that currently prevail? In the following, I would like to present some of the ideas of Kant's epistemology, which is probably the starting point for most modern epistemologies. “Back to Kant” has been the motto of our philosophers since the 1960s. Therefore, an epistemological consideration must probably be linked to Kant's thoughts.

The theory of knowledge is supposed to be a scientific investigation of that which all other sciences presuppose without examination: cognition itself. This means that it is assigned the character of a philosophical fundamental science from the outset. For only through it can we learn what value and what significance the insights gained by the other sciences have. In this respect, it forms the basis for all scientific endeavor. It is clear, however, that it can only fulfill this task if it itself, as far as the nature of human cognitive faculty allows, is free of presuppositions. This is generally conceded. Nevertheless, a close examination of the better-known epistemological systems reveals that a whole series of presuppositions are made at the very outset of the investigation, which then significantly impair the convincing effect of the further explanations. In particular, it will be noticed that certain hidden assumptions are usually made even when the basic epistemological problems are being formulated. But if the questions posed by a science are wrong, then one must doubt the correctness of the solution from the outset. The history of science teaches us that countless errors, which have plagued entire ages, are solely and exclusively due to the fact that certain problems were posed incorrectly. To give just one example: what modifications did certain questions in physics undergo as a result of the discovery of the mechanical equivalent of heat and the law of the conservation of energy! In short, the success of scientific investigations depends to a large extent on whether one is able to pose the problems correctly. Even though epistemology, as the basis of all other sciences, occupies a very special position, it is nevertheless foreseeable that successful progress in its investigation will only be possible if the fundamental questions are posed in the correct form.

One could rightly object to the view that Kant was the founder of epistemology in the modern sense of the word, that the history of philosophy before Kant shows numerous investigations that can be seen as more than just the seeds of such a science. Volkelt, for example, notes in his fundamental work on epistemology (“Erfahrung und Denken. Kritische Grundlegung der Erkenntnistheorie” by Johannes Volkelt. Hamburg and Leipzig 1886, page 20) that the critical treatment of this science began with Locke. But even in the case of earlier philosophers, even in the philosophy of the Greeks, one finds discussions that are currently being held in epistemology. However, Kant has stirred up all the problems that come into consideration here in their depths, and numerous thinkers have followed up on him and worked through them so thoroughly that one finds the earlier attempts at solutions either in Kant himself or in his epigones. If, then, we are dealing with a purely factual and not a historical study of epistemology, we can hardly fail to recognize an important phenomenon if we take into account only the period since Kant's appearance with the “Critique of Pure Reason”. What had been achieved in this field before is repeated in this epoch.

Kant's fundamental epistemological question is: How are synthetic judgments a priori possible? Let us examine this question in terms of its presuppositions! Kant raises this question because he believes that we can only attain an absolutely certain knowledge if we are able to prove the justification of synthetic judgments a priori. He says: “The solution of the above problem also includes the possibility of the pure use of reason in the foundation and execution of all sciences that contain a theoretical knowledge a priori of objects” (“Critique of Pure Reason”, page 61 ff. according to the edition by Kirchmann, to which edition all other page numbers in quotations from the Critique of Pure Reason and the Prolegomena are to be referred), and “The resolution of this task is the be-all and end-all of metaphysics, and thus of its very existence” (Prolegomena$ 5).

Is this question, as Kant puts it, without presuppositions? Not at all, for it makes the possibility of an absolutely certain system of knowledge dependent on the fact that it is built up only from synthetic judgments and from such judgments as are won independently of all experience. Kant calls synthetic judgments those in which the predicate concept adds something to the subject concept that lies completely outside of it, “even though it is linked to it” (“Critique of Pure Reason”, p. 53 f.), whereas in analytical judgments the predicate only states something that (hidden) is already contained in the subject. This is not the place to discuss Johannes Rehmke's astute objections to this classification of judgments (“Die Welt als Wahrnehmung und Begriff”, page 161ff.). For our present purposes, it is sufficient to realize that we can only attain true knowledge through judgments that add a second concept to a first, the content of which was not yet present in the first concept, at least for us. If we wish to call this class of judgments synthetic judgments, we can still concede that knowledge can only be gained in the form of judgments if the connection between the predicate and the subject is a synthetic one. The matter is different, however, with the second part of the question, which requires that these judgments must be arrived at a priori, that is, independently of all experience. It is quite possible (we mean here, of course, the mere possibility of thought) that such judgments do not exist at all. For the beginning of epistemology, it must be considered completely undecided whether we can arrive at judgments other than through experience, or only through it. Indeed, such independence seems impossible from the outset in the face of unbiased reflection. For whatever may become the object of our knowledge, it must first approach us as an immediate, individual experience, that is, it must become an experience. We also gain mathematical judgments in no other way than by experiencing them in certain individual cases. Even if, as Otto Liebmann does, for example, in his book “Analysis of Reality: Thoughts and Facts”, one allows the same to be based on a certain organization of our consciousness, the matter does not present itself differently. We can then say that this or that proposition is necessarily valid, for if its truth were annulled, consciousness would be annulled with it; but we can only gain the content of consciousness as knowledge if it becomes an experience for us, in exactly the same way as a process in external nature. The content of such a proposition may always contain elements that guarantee its absolute validity, or it may be secured for other reasons: I cannot get hold of it in any other way than when it confronts me as an experience. This is the one.

The second concern is that at the beginning of epistemological investigations, one should not claim that absolutely valid knowledge cannot come from experience. It is certainly quite conceivable that experience itself would have a characteristic that would guarantee the certainty of the insights gained from it.

Thus, Kant's question contains two presuppositions: firstly, that we must have a way of gaining knowledge other than experience, and secondly, that all knowledge gained through experience can only have limited validity. Kant is not at all aware that these statements need to be examined, that they can be doubted. He simply takes them over from dogmatic philosophy as prejudices and uses them as the basis for his critical investigations. Dogmatic philosophy presupposes them as valid and simply applies them in order to arrive at knowledge corresponding to them; Kant presupposes them as valid and only asks himself: under what conditions can they be valid? What if they were not valid at all? Then Kant's edifice of doctrine lacks any foundation.

Everything that Kant presents in the five paragraphs that precede the formulation of his fundamental question is an attempt to prove that mathematical judgments are synthetic. (An attempt that, incidentally, is not completely refuted by Robert Zimmermann's objections – “On Kant's mathematical prejudice and its consequences” – but is very much called into question.) But the two premises we have cited remain as scientific prejudices. In Introduction II of the Critique of Pure Reason, Kant writes: “Experience teaches us that something is so or so, but not that it could not be otherwise,” and: “Experience never gives its judgments true or strict generality, but only assumed and comparative generality (through induction). In the “Prolegomena” § I we find: “First, as regards the sources of metaphysical knowledge, it is already in their concept that they cannot be empirical. The principles of the same (to which not only their principles, but also their basic concepts belong) must therefore never be derived from experience; for it is not physical, but metaphysical, that is, knowledge beyond experience.” Finally, in the Critique of Pure Reason (page 58), Kant says: “First of all, it must be noted that actual mathematical propositions are always judgments a priori and not empirical, because they involve necessity, which cannot be derived from experience. But if you do not want to concede this, then I limit my proposition to pure mathematics, whose concept already implies that it does not contain empirical, but only pure knowledge a priori.” We may open the Critique of Pure Reason wherever we like, and we will find that all the investigations within it are conducted under the assumption of these dogmatic propositions. Cohen (“Kants Theorie der Erfahrung”, p. 90ff.) and Stadler (“Die Grundsätze der reinen Erkenntnistheorie in der Kantschen Philosophie”, p. 76£.) attempt to prove that Kant demonstrated the a priori nature of mathematical and pure scientific propositions. However, everything that is attempted in the Critique can be summarized as follows: Because mathematics and pure natural science are a priori sciences, the form of all experience must be grounded in the subject. Thus, only the material of sensations, which is given empirically, remains. This is built up into a system of experience by the forms lying in the mind. The formal truths of a priori theories only have meaning and significance as organizing principles for the material of sensations; they make experience possible, but do not extend beyond it. These formal truths are, however, the synthetic judgments a priori, which, as conditions of all possible experience, must therefore extend as far as this experience itself. The Critique of Pure Reason does not, therefore, prove the a priori nature of mathematics and pure natural science, but only determines their area of validity under the precondition that their truths are to be obtained independently of experience. In fact, Kant is so reluctant to provide a proof of this a priori nature that he simply excludes that part of mathematics (see above) in which, even in his view, it could be doubted and confines himself to that in which he believes he can deduce it from the mere concept. Johannes Volkelt also finds that “Kant proceeds from the explicit assumption” that “there is in fact a general and necessary knowledge”. He goes on to say: “This assumption, which Kant never explicitly examined, is so contrary to the character of the critical theory of knowledge that one must seriously ask oneself whether the ‘Critique of Pure Reason’ can be considered a critical theory of knowledge.” Volkelt finds that this question can be answered in the affirmative for good reasons, but that “the critical attitude of Kant's epistemology is thoroughly disturbed by that dogmatic presupposition” (“Erfahrung und Denken”, p. 21). Suffice it to say that Volkelt also finds that the “Critique of Pure Reason” is not an epistemology without presuppositions.

The views of Otto Liebmann (“Zur Analysis der Wirklichkeit”, p. 211 ff.), Hölder (“Darstellung der Kantischen Erkenntnistheorie”, p. 14f.), Windelband (“Vierteljahrsschrift für wissenschaftliche Philosophie”, p. 239, 1877), Überweg (“System der Logik”, 3rd edition , p. 380f.), Eduard von Hartmann's (“Kritische Grundlegung des transcendentalen Realismus”, pp. 142-172) and Kuno Fischer's (“Geschichte der neueren Philosophie” V.Bd., p. 60. Volkelt is mistaken in his reference to Kuno Fischer when he says - “Kants Erkenntnistheorie”, p. 198f. Note - says that it is “not clear from K. Fischer's account whether, in his view, Kant presupposes only the psychological actuality of general and necessary judgments or at the same time the objective validity and legitimacy of the same”. For at the point in question, Fischer says that the main difficulty of the “Critique of Pure Reason” is to be found in the fact that its “foundations are dependent on certain presuppositions” that “one must have conceded in order to accept the following”. For Fischer, these preconditions are the fact that “first the fact of knowledge” is established and then, through analysis, the cognitive faculties are found “from which that fact itself is explained”) in relation to the fact that Kant places the a priori validity of pure mathematics and natural science at the forefront of his discussions as a precondition.

That we really have knowledge that is independent of all experience, and that the latter only provides insights of comparative generality, we could only accept as corollaries of other judgments. These assertions would have to be preceded by an investigation into the nature of experience and one into the nature of our knowledge. The first of the above propositions could follow from the former, the second from the latter.

Now, one could still reply to our objections to the criticism of reason as follows. One could say that every epistemology must first lead the reader to the point where the starting point without presuppositions is to be found. For what we possess as knowledge at any point in our lives has moved far from this starting point, and we must first be led back to it artificially. Indeed, such a purely didactic understanding of the beginning of his science is a necessity for every epistemologist. But it must in any case be limited to showing in what way the beginning of knowledge in question is really such a beginning; it should proceed in purely self-evident analytical propositions and should not make any real, substantial assertions that influence the content of the following discussions, as is the case with Kant. It is also incumbent upon the epistemologist to show that the beginning he assumes is really without presuppositions. But all this has nothing to do with the nature of this beginning itself, is completely outside of it, and says nothing about it. Even at the beginning of a mathematics lesson, I have to try to convince the student of the axiomatic character of certain truths. But no one will want to claim that the content of the axioms is made dependent on these considerations. In exactly the same way, the epistemologist would have to show in his introductory remarks the way in which one can arrive at a beginning without presuppositions; the actual content of this beginning, however, must be independent of these considerations. But anyone who, like Kant, makes assertions of a very definite, dogmatic character at the beginning is far removed from such an introduction to epistemology.

In this section – Questions and Answers – we will now answer questions that we receive. We ask the readers of «Lucifer-Gnosis» to ask such questions. This is precisely how many doubts can be clarified and many concerns addressed, which, of course, cannot be done in the same way in the essays, which cannot meet such personal needs.

Question: A reader has asked the following question: “Does theosophical teaching not recognize the concept of ‘chance’ at all? For example, I cannot imagine that it could be the karma of each individual if five hundred people perish in a ‘theatrical fire’.”

Answer: The laws of karma are so complex that no one should be surprised if some fact seems to contradict the general validity of this law. One must realize that this mind is initially trained in our physical world and that it is generally only accustomed to admitting what it has learned in this world. However, the karmic laws belong to higher worlds – in Germany it is customary to say “higher planes”. If, therefore, we wish to think of any event that befalls a human being as having a karmic effect, as we might think of the operation of a justice purely in earthly-physical life, we must necessarily encounter contradiction upon contradiction. We must realize that a common experience that befalls several people in the physical world can mean something quite different for each of them in the higher worlds. Of course, the opposite is also possible, that common karmic chains of events in common earthly experiences can have an effect. Only those who can see clearly in the higher worlds can say in detail what is at hand. If the karmic chains of five hundred people are realized in such a way that these people perish in a theater fire, then the following cases are possible, among others:

Firstly, the karmic chains of one of the five hundred people need have nothing to do with those of another of the victims. The common misfortune then relates to the karma of the individual persons in the same way as the shadow of fifty people on a wall relates to the thoughts and feelings of these persons. An hour ago, these fifty people may have had nothing in common; in an hour they may have many things in common again. What they experienced when they met in the same room will have a special effect on each of them. But their being together is expressed in the shadow image mentioned. However, anyone who wanted to draw any conclusions from this shadow image about a commonality of the people would be quite wrong.

Secondly, it is possible that the shared experience of the five hundred people has nothing to do with their karmic past, but that precisely through this shared experience something is being prepared that will bring them together karmically in the future. Perhaps these five hundred people will undertake a joint enterprise in the distant future, and the misfortune has brought them together for higher worlds. The experienced mystic is well aware that, for example, associations that are currently being formed owe their origin to the fact that the people who join together have experienced a common misfortune in the distant past.

Thirdly, such a case can really be the effect of previous joint guilt of the persons in question. But there are still countless other possibilities. For example, all three possibilities mentioned can be combined with each other, etc.

To speak of “chance” in the physical world is certainly not unjustified. And just as the sentence “There is no such thing as chance” is absolutely true when all the worlds are taken into consideration, so it would be unjustified to eliminate the word “chance” when we are merely talking about the concatenation of things in the physical world. Chance in the physical world is brought about by the fact that in this world things happen in sensory space. In so far as they take place in this space, they must also obey the laws of this space. In this space, however, externally things can come together that initially internally have nothing to do with each other. Just as my face is not really distorted because it appears distorted in an uneven mirror, so the causes that make a brick fall from the roof and damage me, as I happen to be passing by, have nothing to do with my karma, which comes from my past. The mistake that is made here is that many people imagine the karmic connections to be too simple. They assume, for example, that if a brick has damaged this person, he must have earned this damage karmically. But this is by no means necessary. In the life of every person, events occur continually that have absolutely nothing to do with his merit or guilt in the past. Such events find their karmic compensation in the future. What happens to me today through no fault of my own, I will be compensated for in the future. One thing is certain: nothing remains without karmic compensation. But whether an experience of a person is the effect of his karmic past or the cause of a karmic future: this must first be determined in detail. And this cannot be decided by the mind accustomed to the physical world, but only by occult experience and observation.

Another question is: “What is the theosophical view of mental illness? Modern science denies that anyone can fall into mental illness through an erroneous, wrong train of thought. At most, overwork in relation to mental work can make the nervous system and brain ill, but not the mental content. Does theosophy also agree with this?”

Answer: Modern medical science is certainly not aware of the lawful connections in higher worlds; but as far as the assertion mentioned is concerned, there is a truth underlying it. What is called mental illness and what is a disease of physical organs can only have its immediate origin in physical facts. A wrong sensation, a mistaken thought, has its harmful effects first in higher worlds, and it can only indirectly affect the physical world. Therefore, anyone who speaks only of the laws of the physical world and does not know of others would make a mistake if he were to admit an influence of the spirit on the brain in the direction indicated. Thus, from its point of view, contemporary medicine is quite right. In their view, insane thoughts can only be the result of a diseased brain, but not, conversely, can a diseased brain be the result of erring thoughts. However, the connection between the brain and thought does not lie in the physical world. It lies in a higher world. And although the physical brain, which our eye sees in physical space, cannot be directly influenced by the content of the thought, as the mind, which is also bound to the physical world, knows it: there is nevertheless a connection, hidden from physical observation, between the higher (mental) laws from which the brain on the one hand, and the thoughts of this brain on the other hand, originate. And for those who can see this connection, the following statement is absolutely correct: Man makes himself insane, that is, brain-sick, through his wrong thoughts. But one must first understand such a statement before criticizing it. And contemporary medicine – not all physicians, of course – lacks the means to understand it. As a theosophist, one should be tolerant in such cases. Merely condemning the medical profession and its materialism does not accomplish anything. The theosophist should understand why today's physicians cannot understand him, while he is perfectly capable of understanding these physicians.

The following question is asked: “From the point of view of the view represented in your journal, how should we imagine the relationship between the animal soul and the human soul? It is undeniable that many animals can be taught mental tasks through training that are very similar to those of humans, as can be seen in the much-discussed horse of Mr. von Osten. Should we not therefore logically assume that animals also reincarnate?"

Certainly, it should not be denied that animals show abilities that, when compared to human expressions of the mind, make it difficult to answer the question: where is the boundary between the animal soul and the human soul? And materialism has always derived its justification from denying the essential difference between man and animal, and from maintaining that the human soul is only a fully developed animal soul and only developed from it. But anyone who is able to observe spiritually will not be misled on this point. And for the theosophist, such phenomena as the horse mentioned in the question (there is therefore no point in discussing this particular case in particular) are neither surprising nor mysterious. The animal soul is a generic soul. And what reincarnates in the animal kingdom is the species. The lion that one sees will not return in the same way as the human being who speaks to us. What reincarnates from the lion is the “species lion”, not this or that “individual” lion. But what reincarnates from the human being is precisely this individual. Therefore, in reality, only in the case of the human being can one speak of a biography, that is, of a description of the individual. In the case of animals, we are generally satisfied if we understand and describe the “species”. For example, who would want to write three biographies of a lion in the same way as of a human being, with father, son and grandson? All three have been recognized when one has grasped the one genus of lion.

Now it can certainly be objected that something biographical can also be said about animals, and that one dog differs from another just as a human being differs from another. One might say that a dog owner is certainly able to write the biography of his dog; and if one denies the individual differences of animals, this is only because one does not know them exactly. All this is admitted without further ado. But can one not also write the “biography” of any object from this point of view? Do we not remember that children are set the task of writing the “life story of a pin”? In nature, there are transitions everywhere. Thus, an animal can develop individual characteristics to such an extent that these appear like a striking shade of its generic character; and conversely, a human being can have so little individuality that everything about him appears generic. The training of the spiritual observation must ensure that such things do not distract us from the essential, which is what matters. The first books that were produced by the printing press were similar to those that were produced by artistic copying before and even after the invention of the printing press. Would anyone conclude from this that copying and printing are essentially the same?

Now, after these rational explanations, the facts should be put here in the sense of 'theosophy'. In the animal, spirit, soul and body are revealed. However, of these three principles, only the soul and the body find expression in the physical world. The spirit works from a higher world into the animal world. In the case of humans, all three principles express themselves in the physical world. Therefore, one cannot say that the actions of an animal do not originate from the spirit. When the beaver constructs its elaborate lodge, it is the spirit that causes this from a higher world. When humans build, it is the spirit within them. When a human being trains an animal, his spirit works on the non-individual spirit of the animal; and the latter uses the organs of the animal to carry out what has been brought about. That is why it is so incorrect to say that the animal, that is to say a particular animal individual, calculates, etc., as if one were to say that my “hand takes the spoon” instead of “I take the spoon”. However, for those who only recognize material facts, none of this makes any sense at all. And they have no choice but first to marvel at many of the mental expressions of an animal, and then to think of the animal's mind as being as similar as possible to the human mind. The fact that today's science is so amazed by the “intelligent” achievements of some animals, and is initially baffled, only proves that this science is still completely materialistic in its way of thinking. However, the characteristic difference between animals and humans does not result from a materialistic point of view, but only from a spiritual point of view.

Theosophists would not be surprised if much “smarter” animals were presented, as happens. But that is why they will always know where the difference in nature between animals and humans lies.

Question: “How does Buddha's teaching relate to Hinduism, the Upanishads and Blavatsky's Theosophy?

The answer to this question is partly given in what was said in the last issue in connection with Annie Besant's book “The Four Religions”. The original Brahman teaching, which is expressed in Hinduism and the Upanishads, was given a form in Buddha's teaching that was appropriate to the people's understanding. Buddhism was to turn a doctrine that was more focused on knowledge into one that served to elevate and purify moral strength and to lead a direct life. This is not to say that Buddhism taught something fundamentally new or even different from ancient Brahmanism. Rather, everything that Buddha taught was already present in Brahmanism. And anyone who understood Brahmanism correctly can be said to have been a Buddhist before the Buddha. It is as if someone were to describe a plant that many others had already described; the only difference is that he emphasizes certain characteristics that his predecessors did not feel the need to discuss in particular. Brahmanism is based on a world view. The Buddha showed how one should live in order to live in accordance with this world view. A person can live in accordance with a world view without fully understanding it. Indeed, he will understand it better later if he has already lived in accordance with it. This is what Buddha wanted to achieve in those who followed him. If he refused to speak about the supernatural, it was not because he considered it unknowable or even denied it; but because he wanted to first point people to a life that would then enable them to penetrate the supernatural. He did not deny the eternity of the soul; but he did not want his followers to engage in speculations about this eternity before they had arrived at the conclusion, through observing his rules of life, that their own lives fit into the spiritual order of the world. One could say that Buddha's teachings are Hinduism applied to practical life for people who are not yet able to grasp the connection between this life and the highest mysteries. Man has his destiny in the eternal; but only if he sees the temporal, the transitory, in the right light, is he also able to relate to the eternal in the right way. This is what characterizes Buddha's goal. That is why he refrained from teaching higher truths in his outer teachings, and taught the doctrine of the causes of earthly life and of its proper purification through the eightfold path.

Thus, all Indian worldviews, including Buddhism, are based on the doctrine of a spiritual, higher world, to which man belongs just as much as to the earthly one. And this teaching is no different from that which forms the basis of all great religious systems and world views. It is the one that is also contained in theosophy. For it corresponds to the one human nature, which, depending on the circumstances of life, develops differently in form, but which is essentially, in its basis, one. Anyone who knows the deeper foundations of Christianity also knows that this ancient wisdom is contained and active within it. And anyone who can penetrate to this ancient wisdom through true, spiritual Christianity (compare Annie Besant's “Esoteric Christianity” and Rudolf Steiner's “Christianity as a Mystical Fact”) does not need Hinduism or Buddhism. Yes, the same spiritual doctrine is also effective in modern science, but it remains attached to the most external truths and thereby distorts the spiritual. This is the case, for example, with the materialistic view of Darwinism. If one wants to penetrate to the spiritual basis of truth through this modern science, one needs a far greater power than on the path of religion. — Now, in an age that was completely devoted to outward, material knowledge, H.P. Blavatsky was initiated into the secrets of wisdom research by great teachers of the East. It was only natural that these teachers expressed themselves in the terms of their own race. And it was in this form of expression that Mrs. Blavatsky communicated what she had received to the world. However, it must be clear that this form of expression is of little importance. The point is to penetrate the content. Whether this content is then communicated in the forms of Hinduism, Buddhism or Christianity, or in the formulas borrowed from modern Western science, depends solely on the person to whom the content is to be communicated. Our great masters never tire of admonishing us again and again not to fall into rigid dogmatism, not to turn the search for wisdom into mere word wisdom. Under certain circumstances it is even un-theosophical to teach the Hindu or Buddhist formulas in the Occident. For the theosophist should not force anything alien upon anyone, but should lead everyone to the truth in his own way. Why, for example, should one teach Buddhist formulas of thought to Christians, when the core of truth is also based on their own formulas? Theosophy should not be Buddhist propaganda, but rather a help for everyone to achieve a true understanding of their own inner world.

The following question has been asked: “According to the law of reincarnation, one should imagine that human individuality possesses its talents, abilities, etc. as an effect of its previous lives. Is it not contradictory that such talents and abilities, for example moral courage, musical talent, etc., are directly inherited from parents to children?”

If we have a correct understanding of the laws of reincarnation, rebirth and karma, there is no contradiction in what is expressed above. However, only those characteristics of a person that are attributed to his physical body and etheric body can be inherited directly. The latter is the carrier of all life phenomena (the growth and reproductive forces). Everything that is connected with it can be inherited directly. To a lesser extent, what is bound to the so-called soul body can be inherited. This is to be understood as a certain disposition in the feelings. Whether one has a keen sense of sight, a well-developed sense of hearing, etc., can depend on whether the ancestors have acquired such qualities and passed them on to us. On the other hand, nobody can pass on to their descendants what is connected with the actual spiritual nature of a person, for example the sharpness and precision of their imagination, the reliability of their memory, their moral sense, the knowledge and artistic abilities they have acquired, and so on. These are characteristics that remain within their individuality and manifest themselves in their next reincarnations as abilities, talents, character, and so on. But the environment into which the reincarnating human being enters is not accidental, but is in a necessary relationship with his karma. For example, let us assume that a person has acquired the disposition for a morally strong character in his previous life. It is in his karma that this disposition will come out in a reincarnation. This would be impossible if he were not incarnated in a body of a certain nature. This physical nature must, however, be inherited from the ancestors. The incarnating individuality now strives, through an inherent attraction, towards those parents who can give it the appropriate body. This is due to the fact that this individuality connects itself with the forces of the astral world before reincarnation, which strive towards certain physical conditions. Thus, a person is born into the family that can pass on the physical conditions corresponding to his karmic predispositions. In the example of moral courage, it seems as if this were inherited from the parents. In reality, the individual being has sought out the family that will enable it to develop moral courage. It may also be the case that the individualities of the children and parents were already connected in previous lives and have therefore found each other again. The karmic laws are so complex that one can never form a judgment based on outward appearances. Only those who have a partial insight into the higher worlds through their spiritual senses can do so to some extent. Those who are able to observe not only the physical body but also the soul organism (astral body) and the spirit (mental body) will realize what has been passed on to the person from his ancestors and what is his own property acquired in previous lives. To the ordinary eye, these things are mixed up and it can easily appear as if something is merely inherited that is karmically conditioned. It is a very wise saying that children are “given” to their parents. In a spiritual sense, they are completely given to them. But children with certain spiritual qualities are given to them because they have the opportunity to develop these spiritual qualities in their children.

The following question is posed: “Can it be understood, according to the teachings of reincarnation and karma, that a highly developed human soul is reborn in a helpless, undeveloped child? For many, the thought of having to start over and over again at the childhood stage is something unbearable and illogical.”

How a person can act in the physical world depends entirely on the physical tools he has. For example, higher ideas can only be expressed in this world if a fully developed brain is present. Just as the piano player has to wait until the piano maker has finished the piano to the extent that he can play his musical ideas on it, so the soul has to wait with its abilities acquired in the previous life until the powers of the physical world have developed the bodily organs to the extent that they can become an expression of these abilities. The natural powers have to go their way, the soul also has to go its way. However, from the very beginning of human life, the soul and the physical forces work together. The soul works in the still pliable and flexible child's body in such a way that it can later become a carrier of the forces that have been acquired in earlier periods of life. It is absolutely necessary for the reborn human being to adapt to the new circumstances of life. If he were to simply appear in a new life with everything he had acquired earlier, he would not fit into the surrounding world. He has acquired his abilities and powers under completely different circumstances in a completely different environment. If he simply wanted to enter the world in his former state, he would be a stranger in it. The childhood period is there to bring about harmony between the old circumstances and the new ones. How would a person from ancient Rome, however clever, fare in our world if he were simply born into it with the powers he had acquired? A power can only be applied when it has harmonized with the environment. For example, when a genius is born, the genius is already present in the innermost core of the person, which is also called the causal body. The lower spirit body (kama manas, [the mind soul]) and the feeling and sensation body (astral body) are, however, adaptable and to a certain extent indeterminate. These two parts of the human being are now being developed. The causal body works from within, the environment from without. When this work is done, these two parts can be tools of the acquired powers. — It is therefore neither illogical nor unbearable to think of being born as a child. It would be unbearable to be born as a fully developed human being into a world in which one is a stranger.

A second question is the following: “Are two successive incarnations of a person similar to each other, so that, for example, an architect is born again as an architect, a musician as a musician?”

This may be the case, but it does not have to be. Such similarity does occur, but it is by no means the rule. It is easy to get the wrong idea in this area because one thinks about the laws of reincarnation in terms that are too closely tied to outward appearances. For example, someone loves southern regions and therefore believes that he must have been a southerner in a previous life. Such inclinations, however, have nothing to do with the causal body. They are only of immediate significance for the one life. What works from one incarnation into the next must be seated deeper in the core of the human being. For example, let us assume that someone was a musician in one life. The spiritual harmonies and rhythms that are expressed in tones reach into the causal body. The tones themselves belong to the outer physical life. They are located in the parts of the human being that arise and pass away. The Kama-manas body [the intellectual or emotional soul], which is once the appropriate apparatus for tones, can be the appropriate apparatus for the contemplation of numerical and spatial relationships in a subsequent life. And a musician can become a mathematician. It is precisely through this fact that, in the course of his incarnations, man becomes a universal being by going through the most diverse activities of life. But, as I said, there are exceptions to this rule. And these can then be explained by the great laws of the spiritual world.

A third question is the following: “How should the case be viewed karmically if a person is condemned to idiocy due to a brain disease?”

All such things should not be spoken of through speculation and hypotheses, but rather from the perspective of esoteric experience. Therefore, the question will be answered here by means of an example that actually occurred. A person was condemned in a previous life to lead a dull existence due to an underdeveloped brain. In the time between his death and a new birth, he was able to process all the depressing experiences of such a life, being pushed around, the lack of love of people, and he was reborn as a true genius of charity. Such a case clearly shows how wrong one is when one relates everything in life karmically to the past. It is not always possible to say that a particular fate is the result of a particular fault in the past. Just as often, one will have to think that a particular experience has no connection with the past, but will rather be the cause of a karmic compensation in the future. An idiot does not necessarily have to have earned his fate through his actions in the past. But the karmic consequence of his fate for the future will certainly not be lacking. Just as the balance of a merchant is determined by the figures in his cash book, but he can always make new purchases and sales, so new deeds, strokes of fate, etc. can always occur in a person's life, even though his life account is a very specific one at every moment. Therefore, karma should not be understood as an unalterable fate of man, as a fatum, but it is entirely compatible with freedom, with the will of man. Karma does not demand submission to an unalterable fate, but on the contrary: it brings the certainty that no deed, no experience of man remains without effect, or runs lawlessly in the world, but fits into a just, balancing law. If there were no karma, then the world would be ruled by arbitrariness. But as it is, I can know that every one of my actions, every one of my experiences, fits into a lawful context. My action is free, its effect absolutely lawful. It is a free action on the part of the merchant when he makes a deal; but the result of it fits into his balance sheet in a lawful way.