The Rudolf Steiner Archive

The first part of the performance took place in the Goetheanumban, the second, more cheerful part in the carpentry.

Part I (Goetheanum)

Second scene from the mystery drama “The Awakening of the Soul” by Rudolf Steiner
“The Nile Delta” by Wladimir Solowjow (Russian) ‘Mighty Surprise’ by J. W. v. Goethe
Quote from the soul calendar (4.) by Rudolf Steiner “The little bird” by Edward Grieg
Quote from the soul calendar (5.) by Rudolf Steiner “Forest Concerts” by Christian Morgenstern with music by Max Schuurman

Part II (joinery)
Music played by Louise van Blommestein
“The Castle by the Sea“ by Ludwig Uhland
“Erlking” by J. W. v. Goethe with “Elven Prelude”
“Poems are painted window panes” by J. W. v. Goethe
Humoresques by Christian Morgenstern: ‘Among times’; ‘The priestess’; ‘The dog's grave’; ‘Moon things’

Dear attendees!

The eurythmic art, of which we would like to give you a sample, is based on a kind of visible language. You will see the movement of the individual human being in his limbs, namely in those limbs that can most actively and expressively reveal the soul, movements of the arms and hands. Or also: you will see movements of the whole human being in space or of groups of people and so on.

All that which presents itself as a kind of visible language could be understood as pantomime, mime art or even as dance art and the like, but should not actually be confused with these neighboring arts. For what underlies this eurythmic language is observed – to use this Goethean expression – through sensual-supersensory observation of everything that, as movement tendencies, as movement intentions, underlies, so to speak, the emergence of phonetic language and song. Song and phonetic language emerge from the human speech organ. It is not so much about what comes out with the movements of the air, but rather about what it is about, to observe what movement patterns prevail in the larynx and the other speech organs. These movement patterns are not directly expressed as such, but are transformed and converted into what can then reveal itself as speech sounds. But if one observes this system, one comes to the conclusion that, in relation to what a person reveals when speaking, one can recognize and artistically apply the principle of Goethe's theory of metamorphosis.

Goethe sees in the individual plant leaf a simpler whole plant that simply grows on the rest of the plant, and in turn he sees in the whole plant a more complicated plant leaf. What Goethe applied to the formation of plant life, he later wanted to extend to all living things. This is an extraordinarily fruitful direction and maxim for observation, and it can also be applied to the method of observing living beings. In this way, we come to the conclusion that, when a person speaks, when he causes his speech organs to reveal something by speaking or singing, then what is being expressed in a partial part of the human organization is actually the whole. And just as one can see a more complicated leaf in the shape of the whole plant, so one can now extend to the whole human being that which lives there as a tendency to move in a partial part of the human organization, so that one can thus allow the whole human being to express himself - now for visible observation - as for the soul observation invisibly the possibilities of movement underlie the sound language and the singing .

In this way, one has a means of expression that is based on an inner lawfulness of the human organism - just as speech itself is not made by arbitrarily inventing some gesture or facial movement and making it an expression of something of the soul. Rather, what the human organism is in its essence is actually brought out of it.

And we can say something like the following: That which the human being is as a gestalt reveals itself to the senses and the supersenses in such a way that it always seeks to become movement, to become a gesture. We need only observe a human hand. Of course, we can consider the gestalt. But the shape of the human hand has no meaning if it is not thought of as the motion of the fingers and the rest of the hand coming to rest. How one grasps with the hand, how one can touch with the hand, and how, in other words, one can move the hand, is expressed in the hand that has come to rest. And so one can observe the whole human organism, the whole human form. One can find the lawful starting point for setting the organism in motion in this form, and one then makes the discovery, which can indeed be extraordinarily striking: that by revealing something of the soul and spiritual life through movements derived from this form, one has something like a self-evident, visible language that can be transformed, artistically shaped, giving rise to the art of eurythmy. This visible language can be used to express poetry or music in the same way as spoken or sung language. Therefore, here too you will find what appears as the eurythmic art for the eye, from recitation and from the musical.

Both are just another revelation of the same thing, which comes through the visible language of eurythmy to revelation. When poems, which are the expression of the soul, are recited or declaimed, we see that the declamation or recitation must be guided by the artistic element in the poem. In our unartistic times, there is a tendency to prefer the prosaic, to focus on the literal content of the poetic. And today, when reciting, people particularly appreciate the pointization, the highlighting of the word, the literal, and thus actually the prosaic in poetry. But such an art of recitation actually leaves the special artistic field. The essence lies in the shaping that the poet does with the language. The true poet already has a eurythmy, sometimes a vividly designed one in pictures, as is the case with Goethe, or an expression through the language of a musical element, as is the case with Schiller, so that in Schiller there is already a eurythmic element in the language itself and so on, in Goethe in the creation of images, which must then also be brought out in the recitation that eurythmic art.

So you will see that what is performed on the one hand musically is expressed, I would say, through the moving human being. Just as one can sing audibly with the speech and singing organs, one can also sing with the eurythmic movement. And just as you can find a revelation in what is revealed in a poem, you can find a revelation in what is expressed by a person or group of people in motion.

One can present lyric, epic, dramatic works in this way; in doing so, the style must be particularly adapted to the poetic art. And you will see, especially those of the honored spectators who have been here more often, that we are indeed trying to make progress in the development of the forms, that we have been working on the development of such forms in recent months. For example, we are trying – which has not been done before – to introduce certain moods of a poem or a piece of music through silent forms, that is, forms that are not accompanied by music or poetry, so that the moods are prepared in the pure spatial formation of the movements, which are then expressed in the poem. Or we try to allow this mood to fade away by following a poem with such silent forms.

This makes it particularly clear how, in fact, this is a language with an inner, inherent movement, the peculiarities of which cannot be grasped by thinking, for example, about what this gesture means or that gesture. Such thinking does not lead to the essence of the eurythmic art. Just as one does not have to relate the individual note to something in music, but only to the lawful sequence or harmony of the notes, so too in the eurythmic art one has to consider the lawful sequence of movements or the harmony of the movements as they are performed by the individual people in a group and the like.

What actually constitutes the eurythmic art lies in this lawful sequence of movements, not in the individual arbitrary facial expressions. In particular, when the eurhythmic is already present in the conception of the poetry, one can see how this eurhythmic art can become, I would say, a natural expression of what is experienced when a piece of poetry comes into being. Thus it turns out, for example, that those parts of a dramatic poem that lead from the sensual-physical life into the supersensible realm become particularly theatrical through the application of the eurythmic art. We have tried this in the case of those scenes from Goethe's 'Faust' in other performances that go beyond ordinary realistic experience, that embody soul states through forms and so on. Wherever the dramatic is led out into the supersensible, the application of the art of eurythmy makes the stage-like element an artistic revelation. It is to be hoped — although I have not yet succeeded — that the underlying principles of other dramatic poetry, that is, of realism in drama, will also be able to find their eurythmic expression.

Today you will be shown a rehearsal, a scene from my mystery drama “The Awakening of the Soul”. The aim is to bring to dramatic expression that which plays into the human soul from the life of the world. It is necessary to see how abstractly that which we usually call the laws of the world actually affects the real observer.

You see, dear attendees, the thing is that today we say: natural laws, that is, that which should also play a role in human life, must be grasped according to the rules of abstract logic. Yes, but if the matter were such that the law of the world simply does not reveal itself when one applies only abstract logic to it, namely human life. It is impossible to understand it if one wants to stick to abstract laws, for example abstract historical laws, if one does not move on to a pictorial understanding of what plays a role in human life. All manner of arts are being applied today that actually arise from a dilettantism of the time; psychoanalytic arts and the like are used to get to the soul life. These arts are dilettantish for the reason that they basically have no insight into the fact that only in images can the full extent, the whole saturation of life, reveal itself to one.

And so, in one of the scenes of my drama “The Awakening of the Soul”, an attempt is made to reveal, on the one hand, certain forces that emerge from the whole of the world and are presented as figures that are not intended as symbols but as realities that emerge from the whole of the world, so that they express certain aspects of the world that approach the human being and then play into his soul , so that they make it present in the soul.

Likewise, an attempt is made to illustrate human life, soul and spiritual life in its course through the human life cycle by choosing, for example, that which always stands before the reasonably discerning human being: childhood that has become objective, youth that has become objective. We look back on our youth when we have reached a certain age. And it is often the case with sensitive self-reflection that one says to oneself: this youth, it actually stands before the soul like a foreign human life; but it is in the soul again. This cannot be portrayed with abstractions, nor with the means of ordinary drama; one must try to move on to sensual-supersensory images, as I have tried to portray the 'spirit of Johannes' youth'. Johannes is the hero of these 'mystery dramas', including this one, from which today's scene is taken from 'The Awakening of the Soul'. So I have tried to imagine this Johannes, how he has already objectified his youth to a certain extent, how this youth, this childhood stands before this dramatic hero Johannes. When we look back on our youth in this way, it is something that now, in turn, works within us, that belongs to us, but has been alienated to a certain extent. What plays into our entire soul life, this strange feeling of being both a stranger and ourselves, is what makes us feel as if what we have lived ourselves has been given over to foreign powers.

Thus one sees in this juxtaposition the old Johannes, the spirit of Johannes' childhood, to whom is even spoken by another personality, by the real personality of Theodora. But one also sees the influence of the spirit, how spirits play an objective role in the laws of the world – I have summarized them here and called them Lucifer – how they work and how these forces can come into a concrete spiritual-soul vision, artistically shaped, of the human being and his relationship to the world.

Such things can best be grasped if, I would like to say, one can transfer ordinary language into the theatrical language of drama, which appears in eurythmy, which, more than is usually the case with ordinary language, where thought predominates in speaking, brings more of the will, the whole, the full human being to revelation. In this language, one can adequately present that which looks more deeply into the whole surging and undulating concrete soul life of the human being. It is therefore almost natural to turn to eurythmy in such a dramatic undertaking. The will, the spiritual will in the human being, can be expressed much more fully and intensely in eurythmy than in ordinary spoken language.

That is the one, the artistic side of our eurythmy. But this eurythmy, which derives these natural, self-evident movements from the human form, from the whole inner laws of the human organism, also has a therapeutic-hygienic side. This hygienic-therapeutic side should also be developed within our anthroposophical spiritual science by bringing out those movements from the human organization that can have a particularly healthy effect in this or that direction.

A third aspect is what I must call the pedagogical-didactic aspect. In the Waldorf School in Stuttgart, which was founded by Emil Molt and is run by me, eurythmy has been introduced as a compulsory subject since its foundation. We begin teaching the children as soon as they enter the school at the age of seven, and continue throughout their school years.

And it really does show how this soulful gymnastics - one could say - this spiritualized gymnastics affects children. Firstly, a certain spirit of truthfulness is cultivated in them. Of course, in spoken language – since convention has already taken hold today – one can say phrases and lies, but one cannot lie in eurythmic movements. Thus, when used as a pedagogical-didactic teaching tool, this eurythmic art is truly an education for children in truthfulness, but then also in will initiative. Gymnastics, ordinary gymnastics, is basically only based on physical laws. Eurythmy gymnastics, on the other hand, is something that works with the whole, full human being, with body, soul and spirit. And the child feels this as something thoroughly natural. That is why children accept this teaching, because they feel that here they are being led into a living element that allows them to live their whole being. It is a teaching method of an extraordinary and significant kind and will certainly be judged differently in the future, when people will be able to judge these things more impartially, than it is by many sides today.

With regard to the artistic aspect, which is what really matters, I would just like to say how Goethe was thoroughly imbued with the view – he, who always worked according to the relationship, according to the organic relationship between knowledge and artistic design – how he was imbued with the view that art must penetrate into the true, real basis of existence and that it is from there that it must be created. When nature begins to reveal her secrets, one feels the deepest yearning for her most worthy interpreter, art – thus speaks Goethe. And in another place, he speaks of how it is actually man who shapes nature into art, saying: When man is placed at the summit of nature, he feels himself again as a whole nature, he repeats nature in a spiritual-secluded way, as it were, taking order, harmony, measure and meaning together and rising to create the work of art.

Eurythmy has certainly not yet reached the point of fully realizing its ideal, but ideally it can be envisaged that the human being not only places himself at the pinnacle of nature in his art, but also regards his own organism as a tool for this art, as the tool that contains all the details of natural secrets as a microcosm, which are otherwise spread throughout the wide cosmos . It is to be hoped that this eurythmy will develop into an art that, precisely because the human being uses himself as a tool and does not use external tools or instruments, will be able to develop into a means of expressing the deepest secrets of the world.

We are certainly our own harshest critics and know that we are only at the beginning with this eurythmic art and that it must be further developed. Therefore, I would like to ask you, as I usually do at the end of these introductions, to take this presentation with a grain of salt. For we are indeed at the beginning, but we are also convinced that this eurythmic art holds possibilities for development which, once fully realized in the distant future, will establish eurythmy as a more recent art form that can stand alongside the older art forms with dignity.

We will perform the first part here in this domed building today, then there will be a break, and the second part will be performed in the temporary hall where the performances usually take place.

Emil Leinhas: The draft is still incomplete. But we worked together harmoniously. (He reads the draft.)

Dr. Maier, Dr. Heyer and Dr. Peipers speak to this.

Alexander Strakosch: The question of the executive council still needs to be clarified.

Dr. Steiner: The passage about antagonism does not quite correspond to fact. From the personal reasons for the resistance against anthroposophical spiritual values, the antagonism that has arisen to me would not have been of any further significance; it would have appeared as a foolish episode. It is only through the reasons given by the various enterprises since 1919 that the attacks are used as a means to an end by an antagonism that for the most part has no interest in the attacks themselves,

used as a means to an end, in order to eliminate the anthroposophical movement.

Marie Steiner: The opponents are treated too lightly, it is immediately said that the compilation of the quotations forms the basis for attack, while the opposition does, after all, make use of mean methods.

Dr. Steiner: One is the opposition that uses defamation; the other is what the opposition does by creating a distorted image. Then the question arises as to whether, under certain circumstances, this opposition should not be attacked a little more boldly, which is only possible and necessary by using individual words.

Is it not true that the opponents are often protected by a certain official reputation, because to the outside world Dr. Jeremias, mentioned yesterday by Dr. Rittelmeyer, is the well-known orientalist of the University of Leipzig, while in fact, if Dr. Rittelmeyer's description is correct, he is a very mean person. He visited me repeatedly, discussed individual questions in a serious manner, asked to be allowed to attend the lecture in Leipzig. There was no reason not to let him attend. Afterwards he turns out to be a mean hypocrite. Such examples are actually something that one can no longer do without in characterizing opponents. One must tear this mask off people. I give this only as an example. We must be clear about what it means when someone has wormed their way in under the mask of someone who 'wants to recognize' and then comes out as a vile slanderer. If we do not manage to reveal this meanness among people who are simply protected by their official positions, if we do not succeed in doing so, then things will be difficult.

Dr. Rittelmeyer: I was present at the meeting. There he personally exposed you, Doctor. He said that he distinguished between anthroposophy itself and the person of the founder of anthroposophy. The goods train could contain goods that were good even if the locomotive was defective.

Dr. Steiner: Such a thing must be exposed to the world. That is the case today. But on the other hand, the special way of fighting must be characterized, which consists in the opponents not engaging in a discussion, but instead they accept the matter in part, like Goesch, but at the same time they act with the most vile, unobjective, purely personal slander. This is the very precise fact; in the present situation, we cannot shy away from characterizing it. It may be necessary to give individual examples. But this does not need to be given by name; perhaps it is even not good to give names, perhaps the names can be avoided and the people can simply be characterized.

You will get a characteristic of Seiling by saying: There was a person who was particularly disgusting to Dr. Steiner because of his fanatical devotion, which was reinforced by a hand kiss at every visit. But now he is being used by the opposition to compile all kinds of slander. Everyone has the opportunity to point this out at the right moment. You achieve more by such a characterization than by mentioning names, because then you can point out such people at the appropriate moment.

Jeremias is an old type who has ingratiated himself, who, for example, came to see Frau Doktor in the box at the theater in Leipzig and paid his respects there. The combination of this box visit in those days with what Dr. Rittelmeyer has told us characterizes the man as a creep. One only needs to say: One of the opponents, who was present at one of the defamatory meetings, made himself unpleasantly noticeable not quite a year ago by paying his respects to Dr. Steiner in the Leipzig theater box during a eurythmy performance in the most boorish way. He demanded it. He appeared on stage and wanted to be brought to the box. He pushed his way into the intimacy. Masks like this must be drawn with a strong characteristic.

I did not meet Leisegang personally; only those who can vouch for them personally should characterize them.

I would also like to say the following. If you listen to the discontent today, one basic tone shines through everywhere. It is unpleasant for me to say this, but one tone shines through everywhere. That is that no one has ensured that the anthroposophical is truly represented in society. I ask you to comment on the extent to which this reproach is justified. I am only reporting what is felt from the various sides. It is felt that within the Anthroposophical Society itself, the representation of anthroposophy has been neglected, that other things have taken the place of anthroposophy and that the inner life has been lost as a result. A more 'scientific', external activity has taken its place, and with it a certain externalization. People express this by saying that anthroposophy is becoming more intellectualized. We have to meet the mood of the young, which is moving towards internalization, without lapsing into enthusiasm. This is particularly felt in academic circles. They do not want this food to be served to them, as it has been served to them in the college courses; they want an internalization of the human soul life. It is a debacle that the college courses have been perceived by young people as something that is just a slightly different infusion of what they already had. They were told things that they already had at university.

The call should include the will to really pursue anthroposophy, to pursue anthroposophy from the perspective of knowledge as well as from the perspective of the soul and from the perspective of morality and religion. That should be in the call. Then, in addition to the things that have been listed – we have already discussed this – there should be something in it about the leadership of the Anthroposophical Society. The agitation in certain circles has already reached a pathological state. People give the impression of being in a pathological state of agitation. There should be something in the appeal that people can personally relate to. It should say something about a group of people who have taken the lead. These are the seven or nine people who have provisionally taken charge of the affairs of the Society until the delegates' assembly is convened. It should not be about the “Central Board” – the word itself is a red rag – it should not be about the Central Board, but about the seven or nine who have the appeal on their conscience; they should be presented as the leaders. If you talk about the central board now, it will simply lead to this or that group breaking away, to the society disintegrating as a result, and other groups forming for anthroposophy.

One can only say that people are absolutely fed up with the Stuttgart leadership, but they are of good will. The moment they see people taking something seriously in hand, they are ready to follow. The mood is a psychologically curious and characteristic one. Young people are waiting for something to happen. That is what I have to say about the content of the call.

The passage about the inner work would have to be elaborated. It should come out that there is a will to respond to what is expressed by some more naively and by others more educatedly, namely that people say: We don't learn anything about real anthroposophy; we are presented with all kinds of things that we don't want to hear. That is what is said. Some say it more naively, others more educatedly. But it comes from all circles. It is remarkable: however idealistically one speaks, it is not enough for people. If the idea is to deepen anthroposophy, the soul side must never be neglected. It is always emphasized that there is no heart or soul left in the Anthroposophical Society. That is the delicate point, that people say: You can't get through to the gentlemen in Stuttgart at all; you can't get through to them on a human level, they are too reserved, you can't get close to them. — So this is a delicate point. It belongs in this chapter, where things have to be said as they really are. You have to express how you want to improve something without making a paternoster. A way should be found in the future to ensure that the human relationships between individual anthroposophists are cultivated or at least recognized, regardless of whether they have leading or non-leading positions.

So the goal of the last few days, after going over everything that has gone before, was to finally come up with an appeal that makes sense. But no matter how much sense it makes, if the forces that should be here in this circle are not behind it, it will have no consequences. The further discussion of the appeal should not just lead to negative talk, as has been the case recently, but should have a certain content (substance). One must express what one wants to improve in the near future through the appeal, in order to correct some of the mistakes that have emerged in Stuttgart. We would like to hear something about how the Stuttgart personalities want to support the appeal. Because the fact that you agree with it is only one side of the coin. The other side is that people should not think: Now that the appeal has been printed, we will go back to the Waldorf School, become office managers at Kommender Tag and so on. Something tangible should emerge in this direction, showing that the appeal is being supported. The appeal is only valuable if people support it.

Emil Leinhas: What the appeal says must be worked out in the assembly of delegates.

Dr. Steiner: This point would have to be dealt with much more thoroughly and attentively. If this group is to have any significance in the continuation of the matter, then this point would have to be dealt with much more thoroughly. They would have to decide to pay a little more attention to such things. One would really have to pay attention to it.

You see, when you mention the name of Rudolf Meyer in Berlin, for example. This Meyer is a characteristic personality for the reason that he does not represent an aberration in the sense that things come from the head, because he wants to be a personality who wants to present everything from his own experience. What some people in Stuttgart are accused of – predominantly intellectualism – is not so much attributed to Meyer.

You just have to reduce what arises from the circle of members, mostly from a correct feeling but from a false interpretation, and ensure that a correct view of it takes hold. There is too much complacency in Meyer's work. That which comes from a real inwardness is never complacent and does not repel; that which comes from an apparent experience and appears tremendously complacent repels as a result. What people say about it is irrelevant. Reality must be grasped somehow. There must be some place where it is grasped. What is lacking is the kind of immersion in a certain, truly spiritual life that is far removed from all nebulousness. What people always call “dialectical” is just talking about things in such a way that the soul is missing from this talk. And if that does not enter into reality, if acumen, pointedness and such things overwhelm people too much, then they feel repelled.

The Stuttgart gentlemen feel that if someone does get through to one of them, they leave as if they have lost their sense of self; everything is thrown at you so rationally that you lose yourself in the process. — I would be uncomfortable if I were asked to name names. When the gentlemen from Stuttgart talk to them, the people feel as if they have been emptied of their substance and their will. Well, that is not true, it has to do with the fact that a “system” has now really been formed in Stuttgart, namely that the people here live as if in a fortress with high walls and do not know what is going on among the people who belong to the Society. They speak from within the fortress, without concern for what is going on in the Anthroposophical Society; and the people who come here feel that they are not listened to when they come with their experiences; they feel that they are not listened to at all.

Sometimes the feeling that people have has been expressed as follows: In Stuttgart, the human personalities switch off. — I was confronted with the statement that The people of Stuttgart send us gentlemen here who come with their notebooks, ask their questions, write something down, and then these notebooks are put into the archive, because all things end up in the archive; the personality does not come to us, but instead brings a notebook and then takes it to the archive; we would like to have human contact with personalities.

I only relate the things that are said. These things may be terribly distorted when expressed, but there is much more in the distortion that comes from the bad experience. This sentiment perhaps expresses an even stronger truth than is being expressed. Thought must be given to how this can be remedied. Otherwise there is really nothing left to be saved.

If the delegates' conference really does take place and such judgments are formed, then we will not get anywhere either. Likewise, it would be good if the misgivings that go out were also consciously brought up here. Dr. Rittelmeyer said that “powerful slogans” should be issued from here. Such slogans are indeed being issued. Marie Steiner: I would like to say something about this that relates to Munich. I was sorry to hear about the things that are happening around the work of the young priest Klein. Such things as 'idolization' and 'worship' can lead a young man to believe that he can lead old people. I then asked whether these things were true. The answer was the question: Why did they want to destroy the anthroposophical work in Munich? The report culminated in the sentence that only a few months ago this gentleman had received the order from a member who is here: The religious work should be supported and the branch work should be ignored. It was said that this “motto” had been issued by a prominent personality. As a result, things have happened that have led some members to believe this. In Munich there were special conditions, branch difficulties of a special kind, from which such opinions could arise. He, the reporter, stood as one of the

accusers.

Dr. Peipers: When Klein was with me, I had the impression that something could be hoped for from the religious movement in Munich.

Dr. Steiner: You seem to have said that. People have understood that the leadership in Stuttgart wants to put the Munich work to sleep and replace the anthroposophical movement with a religious revival. We will have to reveal the things that come from the “Stuttgart system” as misunderstandings. Such facts are creative! So this is a “slogan” that came from Stuttgart: the Munich branch work should be put to sleep; everyone should concentrate on the work of religious renewal. If this were said by someone who is a leading figure in the religious renewal movement, there would be no objection. But when it is said by leaders of the anthroposophical movement, such a slogan will cause the anthroposophical movement to perish.

Dr. Peipers: I refused to support it.

Marie Steiner: But what has just been said refers to your conversation with Klein. I was told that you wanted to give a large sum of money for the religious renewal, and that you think the anthroposophical work should be put on hold. But these words have had an effect.

Dr. Peipers: What people say is so easily misinterpreted.

Marie Steiner: These slogans fly on like arrows.

Emil Leinhas comments on this.

Dr. Steiner: The person who issued this slogan belongs to the “big heads” in Stuttgart, and for that reason alone this slogan would have been decisive in Munich. So the religious movement is cutting off our water. The Munich people are indignant that the anthroposophical work in Munich is being destroyed by the Stuttgart leadership.

Dr. Peipers: I have been told that the Munich people are no longer doing any work at all.

Dr. Steiner: We will explain everything as a “misunderstanding”. But that does not prevent these things, which were coined as slogans in Stuttgart, from having a destructive effect; that is to say, that the “Stuttgart system” is dissolving anthroposophical work as it reaches the periphery.

The term “bighead” is related to drawings in cartoons. People like that have been depicted in cartoons as having huge heads and small bodies. In Austria they are called “bigheads”. So misunderstandings are creative.

You can't form an opinion about these things if you don't start from the same assumptions as those presented here. Most of what has been done here must be left out; that would have to be negotiated. So far, all that has happened is that people have signed the appeal. The assembly of delegates must take place, and at that the gentlemen must not appear as they did here, sitting around the table and waiting calmly for the others to act. Everyone must express their opinion there, but the next thing—I have to leave very early tomorrow morning—is that here, in a skillful way, the youth movement, for example, must be reassured, because they are waiting for an answer. One must enter into negotiations with them on a broader basis. Today they are waiting for someone to say: something has happened here. Now the ground on which everything has taken place so far will have to expand. We will admit the youth and negotiate with them, and from tomorrow on it must be done without curtains.

Another suggestion has been made regarding negotiations with young people.

Dr. Steiner: It would be better than the leaders of the youth movement attending our meetings here. That would be an achievement. Above all, I would like to point out that within the youth movement, the word seems to have been dropped that the opposition to society should be organized. It would be very good if this organization of the opposition were actually understood. I imagined that, in addition to Dr. Palmer, Mr. von Grone and Mr. [Wolfgang] Wachsmuth could also relate to this dissatisfaction in society. I believe that people in Stuttgart could understand the dissatisfaction. Why should we only meet in phrases of harmony? If you show understanding for what people are dissatisfied with, something will have happened. Not from above, but by showing that you yourself have some of the sting of dissatisfaction, you will achieve something with young people. If the other person feels: This is someone who is content too, then he says to himself: I don't want anything to do with him. Take this as a humorous presentation of something that is meant seriously.

Jürgen von Grone speaks to this.

Dr. Steiner: Now this has not been achieved in Stuttgart. Dissatisfaction that arises from the matter is sometimes very fruitful; but if this dissatisfaction is not reckoned with in terms of what people feel, but is passed over, then it has a destructive effect.

Marie Steiner: It refers to what was said in the cycle.

Dr. Steiner: Indeed, one must say that. We have had these two phases of the academic youth movement, which must be characterized as follows: First, the Hochschulbund was founded. The celebrities left the student leaders alone and did not stand behind them. The bond between the student leaders and the Stuttgart celebrities dissolved. Now the student leaders didn't know what to do, and then these kinds of student associations were formed, which Maikowski chose. Now, Maikowski is a person who is extremely easy to convince of something if you only know how to speak his language. Now any connection between this youth movement and the Stuttgart gentlemen was impossible. The young people were no longer open to anything that came from these gentlemen. Illusions arose. It is still the same today as it was when these people organized the “Pedagogical Youth Course” here. I think that the term “organization of the opposition” arose because people feel that they cannot get close to the gentlemen from Stuttgart. The older ones outside all have a very similar feeling.

The essentials should be discussed. I would characterize the situation as follows: there are many questions in Stuttgart to which one avoids giving an answer. This is one of them: if you talk to a lot of people today, they feel the need to talk about how the branch work is organized. The leading personalities, on the other hand, do not feel the need to talk about the organization of the branch work. But this must be done. It must even be included in the call, just as the communication of the anthroposophical spiritual heritage should be done. Now it could also happen that people avoid talking about these questions. The most important questions are kept quiet here at all.

Ernst Uehli: The branch leaders are always asking how the branch work should be organized.

Emil Leinhas speaks to this.

Dr. Steiner: The main question is this: How can we get the branch work to be such that it satisfies us? All we hear is: How can we talk to the gentlemen in Stuttgart? How can we approach the gentlemen in Stuttgart so that they hear from us what we would like to have? The point is that there are questions to which an answer is avoided. A positive answer should be given to this. We should talk here about what answer we give to those who say: We are purely lost members, we used to enjoy the cycles; who should we turn to so that someone knows that we are not satisfied now?

Alexander Strakosch speaks appreciatively about the earlier work of Miss Stinde and about individual branches.

Dr. Unger speaks about the difficulties that arise from the new forces. One can only explain the branch work by example; descriptions should be given.

Emil Leinhas: People want to see personalities who themselves have anthroposophy within them.

Marie Steiner: The demand that one encounters is much greater after lectures than after reporting. There is an urgent demand for Dr. Steiner's lectures.

Dr. Unger asks about the way of reading.

Marie Steiner: One must read quite simply and sympathetically, not too quickly. Rhetorical behavior should be eliminated as far as possible and one should be permeable only to the content. It does not do for someone to read the lectures quickly while in the rush of business. One would have to read the matter through four times. You need to have a sense of the punctuation. Furthermore, the content must be able to flow through you. You have to work through the lectures thoroughly and then erase the personal element. You have to be able to live with them for several hours beforehand.

Emil Leinhas talks about the question of reading or lecturing.

Marie Steiner: Above all, a certain attitude of soul must be present. One must avoid the terribly insistent intellectual emphasis, always leaving oneself out and wanting to show oneself off as little as possible.

Dr. Peipers: Both must be done: reading aloud and lecturing.

Dr. Unger: The archives must be converted into reading rooms. It is hardly possible to give a presentation if you were not present at the lecture yourself. Courses should be held at different levels.

Marie Steiner: There is so much material in the cycles that it would take several lifetimes to absorb it all. If someone wants to do special studies, the opportunity for such purposes is also given. So this possibility is also there for particularly serious specialized work. It has been shown that there has been a strong need for this. Much of what has been presented has been said to be something that could be heard elsewhere, and that is not what is needed for a special branch work.

Dr. Steiner: We have digressed from what can be fruitful in the present moment. We have digressed from what could be fruitful for this evening, for standing behind this call. The way it is done in the branches is not what is meant at the present moment. What the members are now expressing as something that leaves them unsatisfied is something quite different. What the members mean is that they have the feeling that they hear too little about anthroposophy. Whether it is read to them or presented in an anthroposophical way is not the subject of today's discussion. The question is: what can be done so that the anthroposophical can be brought before the world, and first before the branches, in the right way?

Surely, to do that, the question would have to be addressed much more thoroughly. For the dissatisfaction that prevails goes back to the history of the last four years. You must not forget what compromises have been made by the speakers who have been wildly let loose out onto the branches and onto the world. What a stir there has been when cabbage has been talked about again and again! Mr. Uehli spoke in the Elberfeld branch. The most important thing is not what he said; the most important thing is that Damnitz was terrified. He is convinced that he can only achieve something personally by reading aloud. But people have come, brought up by the bad education in Stuttgart, people have appeared who have presented their own cabbage. These are the bad habits of Stuttgart that have been introduced into the “Association for Threefolding” through the bad habit of lecturing. What a load of nonsense is presented to the audience! The dissatisfaction goes back to what was done here in Stuttgart. An absolute failure in education has come from Stuttgart. We should meet the dissatisfaction halfway. There was this course of lectures of mine before a horde was unleashed on the German audience. Look at the echo of what has been done by this horde! What has been done out there is sometimes so grotesque that it surpasses everything. Whether it was the duplication of the lectures or the speakers' lack of control over them, there was no spirit in it. There was a hideous bureaucratic operation in it, there was no inwardness in it. Horribly duplicated transcripts were sent to people in a truly bureaucratic manner. This special thing that has been introduced here, this impersonal bureaucracy, the lack of inner attitude, everything that has been introduced as special nonsense from the “Bund für Dreigliederung” (Federation for Threefolding), still has an effect, it has not yet been completely eliminated. This comes into everything, connected with the matter. There must be the will to refrain from many things that have been done and to do many things that have been neglected. Someone has to take responsibility for this; then things will improve. Similarly, it happens that, again, people who should be given the things are simply deprived of everything indiscriminately. On the other hand, someone who is merely sensationalistic gets things. A certain care should be taken here. When you hire people, it is also the case that you do not exercise care. You have to exercise care! You must not give the feeling that it is categorized, compartmentalized, but that there is a human impulse behind it. What is the use of saying that human relations must be cultivated if you then proceed in an inhumane way in the way you handle things? When you say something like that, nobody feels affected because you can't see how terrible the system is in the way it is handled. Often those who have practiced the mischief the worst are the ones who now criticize it the worst. As I said, in Elberfeld, gentlemen appeared who had been raised by the mischief that occurred in the threefolding movement. Damnitz would not have objected at all if free good lectures had been given. He himself said what he opposed. There were a few gentlemen at the Stuttgart Congress who felt called upon to give free lectures in Elberfeld-Barmen. I am convinced that they talked pure nonsense and that anthroposophy was discredited as a result. Damnitz himself might have said that he could not do it either. This system, that everyone should talk their own talk — I am not speaking against independence, but against this unwillingness to distinguish between what should be and what should not be —, it is easy to end up in speculative-dialectical discussions.

Of course, poor performance can always be undermined. But there is a great difference between a way of doing things that has emerged in recent years and a way of being human that is behind things. You can tell whether a performance is good or bad on the basis of the individual performances. I have nothing against someone giving their own lecture. On the contrary: as much as possible. I have demanded it myself: giving one's own lectures. Whether someone gives a lecture or their own lecture: within our movement, everything should serve to cultivate our cause, not to discredit it. That is what matters. Things are all relative. I can well imagine that it is handled differently in different branches. In one branch there will be someone who reads aloud; in another there will be someone who speaks on their own initiative.

Sometimes there are also strange conceptions. I know of a branch – and this also applies to the things I have just mentioned, because it leads to an overall judgment – whose leader would never have allowed himself to merely read out lectures, but instead got the material from me on things that I had not even presented myself. The personalities concerned chose the topics themselves. Now it is impossible to decide whether something like this is a lecture in its own right or not. It depends on the personality concerned whether it is more or less free or unfree.

The question of promoting the anthroposophical cause through shared attitudes: yes, this is a matter of principle. We would have to learn to distinguish certain things. Of course, you sometimes come up against things that are difficult to judge. And then, because you come up against such things, the judgment in the widest circle becomes confused. Isn't it true that sometimes it will be dreadful after all.

Enthusiasm must arise! And enthusiasm can only arise when one takes hold of something in the right way, for example, when one brings anthroposophy into the world in the appropriate way. Here one develops enthusiasm for many things that have nothing to do with the anthroposophical cause. On the other hand, it would not easily occur to someone to do the same for the things that grow on our soil, for example, eurythmy. To put eurythmy, with all that it entails, into the whole movement with enthusiasm, that is how one would work for the anthroposophical cause! While it actually detracts a little from our cause when something is arranged like a concert in our rooms next Saturday. That is something that distracts in the most eminent sense; what does it have to do with our cause?

Paul Baumann comments.

Dr. Steiner: This brings us to the point where it is a matter of having an anthroposophical attitude or not. That is why I say: we are touching on the limits here. The Stuttgart center is the starting point, where everything that is anthroposophy is being messed up. If it is at all possible, a singer is brought in to sing on our premises. In this way, we completely lose sight of the essential. Then we deserve to be treated by the world as it is when really perfidious ideas of anthroposophy arise. That is part of what it is about. I am not surprised that the whole Anthroposophical Society is being ruined from Stuttgart, that all feeling for what is actually supposed to be given with Anthroposophy has been lost.

Marie Steiner: The ladies who work here at the Eurythmy School are often asked by members what they actually do here. So, people have no idea that there is a eurythmy school here.

Dr. Steiner: If we stoop to wanting to be a dumping ground for anyone who could be anywhere else, without having anything to do with anthroposophy, then the movement loses its momentum.

Marie Steiner: There are only ladies who have come from out of town to go to the Eurythmy School here. There is not a single person from Stuttgart in this course.

The foundations are discussed.

Dr. Steiner: I would also like to see this transformed into something positive; I would like to see enthusiasm arise for carrying the anthroposophical into the world in the appropriate light. We really have no right to establish things externally and then not use them to cultivate the matter. That is what is so terrible. We have brought about the external possibility of cultivating the anthroposophical by making material sacrifices; we must also make use of this possibility. We have to come to the point where the journal 'Anthroposophie' is something completely different, where it serves the anthroposophical cause, where one does not just have the feeling that every week there is the worry that it will be full. That's part of it when I say you have to stand behind the call.

The call has now been successfully made. What difficulties! The necessary changes can be made easily; but the call has really been made. The discussion about standing behind the call is again such that in the next few weeks things could go back to the way they were before, with more or less reading aloud or speaking oneself. That is not what the people who are dissatisfied today mean. Things are going nowhere because people are not engaging with them.

Dr. Unger and Emil Leinhas speak; others make suggestions.

Dr. Steiner: I fear that if we only have lectures and eurythmy performances in the evenings, I fear that many will shirk the task of addressing the seriousness of the situation on the agenda. The lecturers will not be concerned with discussing the fate of the Anthroposophical Society. I fear that it would be something that could be excellent in itself, but that will not become what we need at the present moment. We have had brilliant such events. We have had the congresses one after the other. We have had them in Vienna, in Stuttgart, in Dornach. Yes, the things were excellent in themselves. But they did more harm than good to the anthroposophical movement because they were never utilized.

Emil Leinhas advises lectures by Dr. Steiner and reports about the institutions.

Dr. Kolisko comments on this.

Dr. Steiner: They also need to be treated. If today's discussion, from the moment we finished discussing the appeal, takes this course, it is a prime example of how this delegates' meeting must not be. It must not be like this! Couldn't the question of why this committee of 30 has become so sterile be discussed a little, when the cleverest people in Central Europe are sitting together? Perhaps it would be useful to ask why this illustrious circle has remained so barren?

Dr. Schwebsch speaks to this.

Dr. Steiner: I know that there are personalities sitting here who consider the whole thing unnecessary, that one is dealing with the question of the consolidation of the Anthroposophical Society. If these things had never been dealt with, if no effort had been made to deal with them, then you would not be sitting here today. There would be no funds to support the Waldorf School. You can be sure of that, that it was once different. The Society was founded out of life, and that is what made it possible for you to be sitting here today and to find that all this is unfruitful. If it had always been like that, if, for example, many people like you had been at the starting point of society, then you would not be able to sit there today. You are like the famous person who wants to pull himself up by his own hair. Therefore, you would already be obliged to found the matter more deeply. Why don't you say the important thing yourself, which you lack here and which would raise the matter? Life is not just for our pleasure. If it is only about comfort, then one should not hold thirty-session meetings. Why don't you make it better yourself? One can also sit here and still not be there.

Marie Steiner: One must struggle when it comes to group-spirit insights.

Toni Völker: They have not understood how to take you, Doctor, as an esoteric teacher. They have not understood how to bring the esoteric into practical life. That seems to me to be the problem.

Dr. Steiner: The things that are to be discussed here - and actually discussed in real terms - have become necessary because of what has gradually emerged in society. But what used to be found in society, that a word of mine remained in a narrower circle, that no longer exists today. And so it has become impossible to talk about the necessary things in real terms. Today it is the case that I should not really make the claim to say a word in a narrower circle, because every word is carried out into the world. In the sense of esotericism, of esoteric truths, we can speak more than we used to. Now there is more esoteric content in the public lectures than there used to be in the cycles; but in the past it was still possible, in a sense, to bring something into narrower circles that remained in those narrower circles. But today that is out of the question; today it is absolutely out of the question.

Toni Völker: If you bring the esoteric into life, then the conditions could not arise as they are now. It would depend on doing things instead of talking about them.

Dr. Steiner: The things that one would never have dreamed of, that one would not even have imagined would come out of the circles, appear in the brutal articles in the newspapers; they have been discussed for years, and Father Kully writes about them in the newspapers. There should be an inclination to reflect on why society has become like this. This decline of society is linked to the course of events as it has developed in Stuttgart over the past four years. It has led to the Anthroposophical Society being so terribly run down. Gossip prevails over seriousness. Triviality prevails over what should be in this direction, in the direction of reverence. It would have been good if the time that has now been used for trivialities had been used to address the terrible situation of the Society with a little more clarity. The Anthroposophical Society should become a reality. It has become a shadow, but this shadow is truly a very Ahrimanic product. The Anthroposophical Society is full of Ahrimanic holes.

Ernst Uehli: The Society has sinned through the threefold social order movement. There was this circle of thirty, but no real action was taken. What was discussed was not put into the realm of the will. Dr. Röschl: The specific questions are not being addressed. I always have the thought: What am I supposed to do there?

Dr. Steiner: Things would improve immediately if we did not continue to tempt each other in the moment when we clearly see things. Of course, things also have their justification. On the other hand, the course of the negotiations lies in a certain psychological state of the group. If you have listened to how the discussions have gone, you will have noticed that a large part of the speeches, the requests to speak, for weeks has amounted to someone saying, “I propose that we talk about this or that.” Such a way of proposing has only emerged in this circle. It would not happen anywhere else for someone to speak up and say, I propose that we talk about this and that. — Here in this circle it has happened all the time. Elsewhere, people start talking about what they think about something. I could show how few people have said anything about their topic. A large part of the debate also boils down to someone saying: I fully support this and that. That doesn't change the material substance of the matter. One evening consisted of one person after another saying that they fully supported this or that. Just think, if this psychological moment were considered, how the content of what is said simply proves this: one does not feel oneself as a reality. One does not feel as a reality; one allows oneself to be a mere shadow. Look back and see how often these things have happened! It is easier to ask questions than to give answers. Look at the matter from the psychological side.

I would like to say the following. Things can be discussed in all good will. You are asking for something that you should not ask for. The one who talked about the seminar knows exactly what happened since he spoke to the gentleman in question.⁵ If he brings up the matter, it could be that he has been thinking about it since he found out. He could bring the results of experience instead of the results of not thinking.

In general, in the thirties, there is a tendency to demand a lot from others but as little as possible from oneself. This cancels out so much; the calculation cancels itself out. Almost the impossible is demanded of others, and no one expects to demand the same of themselves. There is a lot in that. Therefore, I cannot fully agree when Dr. von Baravalle constantly says, “I have nothing from this circle.” Why does he never ask, “How much does the circle have from me?” This question should be raised by each individual. Because this takes its toll. This is the case here as long as the circle exists. There is so much cursing; everyone knows what damage the Thirty-Party has done; so one would assume that the damage would be stopped. Since everyone knows, everyone could have thought about it today. The cursing and not thinking about it has become such a habit, and people keep falling back into it.

Today the call has come about. It has emerged from the intellect of this illustrious body. Do you think it completely out of the question that this appeal could not have been made even after the third session? The appeal is an emanation of intellect. That it was not already accomplished three weeks ago is a lack of an outpouring of will. You would become terribly clever if we wanted to continue waiting for ten years. I do not think that the drafting of the appeal was helped all that much by yesterday's meeting. It is a matter of will. One must decide on these things. One must want something. Why can't we want something? Why is there only negativity, only rejection of the other? Why can't we commit ourselves to the other? Actually, it takes much more sophistry to recognize the other's faults as precisely as if we all had the intention of seeing the positive in the other as well. If we were to use only a quarter of it for the positive, much would come of it.

We are now clear about the fact that from now until the delegates' meeting, which must take place as soon as possible, this committee of seven will lead here [Dr. Unger, Dr. Kolisko, Emil Leinhas, Dr. Palmer, Dr. Rittelmeyer, Miss Mücke, Mr. von Grone]. I wanted this committee of seven to do such a good job that the delegates would want it to stay.⁶

I have to give an answer this evening: when should we hold the delegates' meeting? I think in two weeks. We can plan for three days. It would be good if we could use this room for the daytime meetings and the Sieglehaus hall for the evening lectures.

The members comment on this.

Dr. Steiner: It would be better to send a report on the course of the meetings to the foreigners, because the whole thing should be treated as a closed one. The call, which does not concern foreigners, should not be sent.

Mr. Leinhas: Austria, Holland and Scandinavia have considered themselves to be part of this.

Dr. Steiner: I don't know if, if it is sent to Austria, it should be sent to the leadership in Austria and left to them to distribute it in Austria. It can be sent to the leadership in Vienna, and they should distribute it with their own signature.

Emil Leinhas: The local groups have no central office in Vienna. Dr. Steiner: As far as I'm concerned, it can also be sent.

Emil Leinhas: Mr. Steffen would probably have to be sent the appeal for information.

Dr. Steiner: You can give him the appeal privately. Officially it's none of his business. Mr. Leinbas: February 25, 26, 27 or 24? Eurythmy in the evening and two lectures.

Marie Steiner: I would have to be here for the rehearsals.

Dr. Steiner: I am very concerned that the enthusiasm is waning. I am extremely concerned about it. I will have to decide to come back on Monday. Only the shell of the building is there; the matter of the 'inner life' still needs to be carefully worked out. It must be presented on Monday in a form that can still be completely corrected. It can be printed on Tuesday. The envelopes can already be ready. It can go out on Tuesday.

• 5. It is not known what is being referred to here.
• 6. This body then became the executive council of the “Anthroposophical Society in Germany”.

My dear Friends,

This course has a little history attached to it, and it is perhaps good that I should weave this little history into the introductory words that I propose to give today. For that is all we shall attempt in this first lecture—a general introduction to the whole subject. The proper work of the course will begin tomorrow and will be apportioned in the following way. I shall give the lectures; and then as far as demonstration is concerned, that will be taken by Frau Dr. Steiner. The course will thus be given by us both, working together.

The arrangement of the course will be, roughly speaking, as follows. Part I will be devoted to the Forming of Speech, and Part II to the Art of the Theatre—dramatic stagecraft, production and so on. Then, in Part III, we shall consider the art of the drama in relation to what it meets with in the world outside, whether in the way of simple enjoyment or of criticism and the like. We may call this third part: The Stage and the Rest of Mankind. We shall have to discuss together certain demands that our age makes upon the art of the drama, and see how we can enable it to take its right place in the life of man as it is lived today.

I said the course had a little history behind it. It began in the following way. A number of persons closely connected with the stage approached Frau Dr. Steiner and myself independently, in the conviction that anthroposophy, ready as one expects it to be to give new impulses today in every sphere of life—in religion, in art, in science—must also be able to furnish new impulses for the art of the drama. And that is most assuredly so. Several courses on speech have already been given here by Frau Dr. Steiner; and at one of them, where I also was contributing, I added some considerations that bore directly on the work of the stage. These had a stimulating effect on many of those who attended the course, some of whom have since been introducing new features into their work on the stage, that can be traced to suggestions or indications given by us. Groups of actors have made their appearance before the public as actors who acknowledge that, for them at least, the Goetheanum is a place where new impulses can be received.

And then there is also the fact that the art which has been among us since 1912, the art of eurhythmy, comes very near indeed to the art of the stage. This follows from the very conditions eurhythmy requires for its presentation. Dramatic art will, in fact, in future have to consider eurhythmy as something with which it is intimately connected.

This art of eurhythmy, when it was originally given by me, was at first thought of within quite narrow limits. I should perhaps not say ‘thought of’, for it was with eurhythmy as it is with everything within the Anthroposophical Movement that comes about in the right way: one responds to a demand of karma, and gives just so much as opportunity allows. No other way of working is possible in the Anthroposophical Movement. You will not find with us an inclination to plan ‘reforms’ or to put out some great ‘idea’ into the world. No, we take our guidance from karma. And at that time a need had arisen—it was in a quite small circle of people—to provide for some kind of vocation. It all came about in the most natural manner, but in a manner that was in absolute conformity with karma; and to begin with, what I gave went only so far as was necessary to meet this karma.

Then one could again see the working of karma in the fact that about two years later Frau Dr. Steiner, whose own domain was of course very closely affected, began to interest herself in the art of eurhythmy All that eurhythmy has since become is really due to her. Obviously therefore this present course as well, the impulse for which goes right back to the years 1913–14, must take its place in the Section for the Arts of Speech and Music, of which Frau Dr. Steiner is the leader.¹ For now, as a direct culmination of these events, the idea has arisen of doing something here for the development of the arts of speech and drama. Making a beginning, that is; for what we do would naturally only attain its full significance if the audience were limited to professional actors and those who, having the necessary qualifications, are hoping to become such. We should then probably have been a comparatively small circle; and we should have been able, working through the course in its three Parts (as I have explained is my intention), to carry our study far enough to allow of the participants forming themselves afterwards into a working group. They could then have gone out from Dornach as a touring company and proved the value, wherever they went, of the study we had carried through together here. For the deeper meaning of such things as I intend to put before you in this course will obviously only emerge when they are put into practice on the stage. This therefore would have been the normal outcome of a course of lectures on Speech and Drama.

That not all of you assembled here desire a course on this basis is perfectly evident. Nor would it be possible to carry it through with the present audience. Obviously, that is not feasible—although perhaps it would not, after all, be such a terrible disaster for the world if in some of our theatres the present actors could be replaced from here! But I see a few friends sitting in the audience of whom I know very well that they have no such ambition!

And so it turns out that there are two reasons why the course could not take on this orientation towards a practical end. For, in the first place, unfortunately neither those on whom it would have devolved to carry out the plan, nor we who were to give the impulse for it, have any money. Money is the very thing we are perpetually feeling the lack of. In itself the plan would have been perfectly possible, but there is no money for it; and unless it were properly financed, it could naturally not be put into effect. The only possibility would be that some of you who feel stimulated to do so should go ahead and undertake something at your own personal risk.

Secondly, such a keen interest was aroused in the course that one had to begin to consider who else might perhaps be allowed to attend. At first, we were rather strict; but the circle having been once broken into, all control goes to the winds—and that has most emphatically been our experience on this occasion.

Our course, then, will set out to present the art of the stage, with all that pertains to it, and we shall find that the art of the stage has to reach out, as it were, in many directions for whatever can contribute to its right development and orientation. Today, I want to speak in a general introductory way of what I have in mind as the essential content of our work together.

The first thing that calls for attention is that if speech is to come in any way into the service of art, it must itself be regarded as an art. This is not sufficiently realised today. In the matter of speech you will often find people adopting an attitude such as they adopt also, for example, to the writing of poetry. It would hardly occur to anyone who had not mastered the preliminaries of piano-playing to come into a company of people and sit down at the piano and play. There is, however, a tendency to imagine that anyone can write poetry, and that anyone can speak or recite. The fact is, the inadequacy and poverty of stage speaking as it is at present will never be rectified, nor will the general dissatisfaction that is felt on the matter among the performers themselves be dispelled, until we are ready to admit that there are necessary preliminaries to the art of speech just as much as there are to any performance in the sphere of music.

I was once present at an anthroposophical gathering which was arranged in connection with a course of lectures I had to give. It was a sort of ‘afternoon tea’ occasion, and something of an artistic programme was to be included. I do not want to enter here into a description of the whole affair, but there was one item on the programme of which I would like to tell you. (I myself had no share in the arrangements; these were made by a local committee.) The principal person concerned came up to me and I asked him about the programme. He said he was going to recite himself. I had then to call to my aid a technique that is often necessary in such circumstances, a technique that enables one to be absolutely horror-struck and not show it. It is a faculty that has to be learned, but I think on this occasion I succeeded pretty well, to begin with, in the exercise of this little artifice. I asked him then what he was going to recite. He said he would begin with a poem by the tutor of Frederick William IV, a poem about Kepler. I happened to know it—a beautiful poem, but terribly long, covering many pages. I said: ‘But won't it be rather long?’ He merely replied that he intended following it up with Goethe's Fairy Tale of the Green Snake and the Beautiful Lily; and that if all went well, he would then go on to recite Goethe's poem Die Geheimnisse. I can assure you that with all the skill I could muster it was now far from easy to conceal my dismay.

Well, he began. The room was only of moderate size, but there were quite a number of people present. First one went out, then another, then another; and presently a group of people left the room together. Finally, one very kind-hearted lady was left sitting all alone in the middle of the room—his solitary listener! At this point the reciter said: ‘It will perhaps be rather too long.’ So ended the scene.

It is, as you see, not only outside the Anthroposophical Society but even within it that such a point of view in regard to speech may be met with. I have taken a grotesque example, but the same sort of thing is constantly occurring in milder form, and it is imperative that we make an end of it, if our performances in this domain are to find approval with those who understand art and are moved by genuine artistic feeling. There must be no doubt left in our minds that the forming of speech has to be an art, down to each single sound that is uttered, just as music has to be an art, down to each single note that is played.

Only when this is realised will any measure of satisfaction be possible; and, what is still more important, only then will the way open for style to come again into the arts of speech and drama. For the truth is, people have ceased troubling about style altogether in this domain; and no art is possible without style.

But now, if we are to speak together here of these things, the need inevitably arises that I should at the same time draw your attention to the way that speech and drama are related to the occult—the occult that is ever there behind. And that brings us to the question: Whence in man does speech really come? Where does it originate?

Speech proceeds, not directly from the I or ego of man, but from the astral organism. The animal has also its astral organism, but does not normally bring it to speech. How is this? The explanation lies in the fact that the members of the human being, and also of the animal, are not there merely on their own; each single member is interpenetrated by all the others, and its character modified accordingly.

It is never really quite correct to say: Man consists of physical body, etheric body, astral body and I; for the statement may easily give the impression that these members of the human being are quite distinct from one another, and that we are justified in forming a conception of man which places them side by side. Such a conception is, however, quite untrue. In waking consciousness, the several members interpenetrate. We ought rather to say: Man has not just a physical body as such (the physical body would look quite different if it simply followed its own laws), but a physical body that is modified by an etheric body and again by an astral body, and then again by an I or ego. In each single member, the three other members are present. And so, if we are considering the astral body, we must not forget that every other member of man's nature is also present in it. It is the same with the animal: in the astral body of the animal the physical body is present, and the etheric body too. But man has, in addition, the I, which also modifies the astral body; and it is from this astral body, modified by the I, that the impulse for speech proceeds. It is important to recognise this if we want to carry our study of the art of speech right into the single sounds. For, while in ordinary everyday speech the single sounds are formed in entire unconsciousness, the activity of forming them has to be lifted up into consciousness if speech is to be raised to the level of art.

How then did speech begin? Speech did not originate in the speaking we use in ordinary life, any more than writing originated in the writing of today. Compare with the latter the picture-writing of ancient Egypt; that will give you some idea of how writing first came about. And it is just as useless to look for the origin of speech in the ordinary talking of today, which contains all manner of acquired qualities—the conventional, the intellectual, and so on. No, speech has its source in the artistic life. And if we want in our study of speech to find our way through to what is truly artistic, we must at least have begun to perceive that speech originates in the artistic side of man's nature—not in the intellectual, not in man's life of knowledge, as knowledge is understood today.

Time was when men were simply incapable of speaking without rhythm, when they felt a need always, whenever they spoke, to speak in rhythm. And if a man were saying something to which he wanted to give point or emphasis, then he would attain this by the way he formed and shaped his language. Take a simple example. Suppose you wanted to say—speaking right out of the primeval impulses of speech—that someone keeps stumbling as he walks It would suffice to say: He stumbles over sticks. For there were certainly sticks of wood lying about in primeval times. There were also plenty of stones, and you could just as well say: He stumbles over stones. You would not, however, say either. You would say: He stumbles über Stock and Stein (over stick and stone). For, whether or no the words exactly describe what the speaker sees, we have in ‘stick and stone’ an inner artistic forming of speech. Or again, in order to make our statement more telling, we do not merely say that a ship is sinking together with the men in it. We add what is perhaps far from welcome on a ship; we add the mice. If we are really forming our speech out of what was the original impulse behind all speaking, we say: The ship is going down mit Mann and Maus (with man and mouse).²

Today, the original impulse for speech is present in mankind only in the very smallest degree. There is ample reason for the fact. Unhappily, speech as an art has no place now in education.³ Our schools, and the schools of other nations too, have lost touch with art altogether; and that is why in our Waldorf School we have to make such a strong stand for the artistic in education.’ The schools of our time have been founded and established on science and learning—that is, on what counts as such in the present day, and it is inartistic. Yes, that is what has happened; this modern kind of science and learning has for a long time been steadily seeping down into the education given in our schools. Gradually, in the course of the last four or five centuries, these have been changing, until now, for anyone who enters one of them with artistic feeling, these schools of ours give the impression of something quite barbaric.

But if art is absent in our schools—and don't forget that the children have to speak in class; good speaking is part of the instruction given at school—if the artistic side of education is completely absent, it need not surprise us if art is lacking in grown men and women. There is, in fact, among mankind today a sad dearth of artistic feeling; one can therefore hardly expect to find recognition of the need to form speech artistically.

We do not often have it said to us: ‘You didn't say that beautifully’, but very often, ‘You are not speaking correctly’. The pedantic grammarian pulls us up, but it is seldom we are reproved for our speech on artistic grounds. It seems to be generally accepted as a matter of course that speech has no need of art.

Now, the astral body is mainly in the unconscious part of man's nature. But the artist in speech must learn to control what in ordinary speaking takes its course there unconsciously. In recent times people have begun to appreciate this. Hence the various methods that have been put forward—not only for singing, but also for recitation, declamation, etc. These methods, however, generally set to work in a very peculiar way.

Suppose you wanted to teach someone to plough, and never took any trouble to see what the plough was like, or the field, did not even stop to consider what the ploughing is for, but instead began enquiring: ‘If here is the person's arm, at what angle should he hold it at the elbow? What will be its natural position for ploughing?’ (How constantly one hears this word ‘natural’!) ‘And what movement should he be making with his leg while he holds his arm in this position?’ Suppose, that is, you were to take not the slightest interest in what has to be done to the field by the plough, but were merely to ask: ‘What method must I use to bring the pupil into a certain train of movements?’ It sounds absurd, but modern methods of speech training are of this very kind. No regard whatever is paid to the objective comprehension of what speech is.

If you want to teach a man to plough, the first thing will be to make sure that you yourself know how to handle a plough and can plough well and accurately; and then you will have to watch your pupil and see that he does not make mistakes. It is no different with speech. All these modern methods that are constructed in the most dilettante fashion (I mean these methods of breath technique, diaphragm technique, nasal resonance and the rest) omit to take into consideration what is, after all, the heart and core of the matter. They set out to instruct as though speech itself were not there at all! For they take their start, not from speech, but from anatomy.

What is important before all else is a thorough knowledge of the organism of speech, of the living structure of speech as such. This organism of speech has been produced, has come forth, out of man himself in the course of his evolution. Consequently, if rightly understood, it will not be found to contradict, in its inherent nature, the organisation of man as a whole. Where it seems to do so, we must look into the speech itself in detail to see where the fault lies; it will not be possible to put the matter right by means of methods that have as little to do with speech as gymnastics has to do with ploughing—unless a plough should ever be included among the gymnastic equipment, which up to now I have never known to be the case. Not that I should consider it stupid or ridiculous to include a plough in the apparatus of a gymnasium; it might perhaps be a very good idea. It has only, so far as I know, never yet been attempted.

The first thing to do then is to acquire a thorough knowledge of the speech organism, this speech organism of ours that has, in the course of mankind's evolution, broken loose, as it were, from the astral body, come straight forth from the ego-modified configuration of man's astral body. For that is where speech comes from.

We must, however, not omit to take into account that the astral body impinges downwards on the etheric body and upwards on the ego—that is, when man is awake; and in sleep we normally do not speak.

Consider first what happens through the fact that the astral body comes up against the etheric body. It meets there processes of which man knows very little in ordinary life. For what are the functions of the ether-body? The ether-body receives the nourishment which is taken in by the mouth, and gradually transforms it to suit the needs of the human organism—or rather, I should say, to meet its need of the force contained in the nourishment. Then again it is the etheric organism that looks after growth, from childhood upwards until man is full grown. And the ether-body has also a share in the activities of the soul; it takes care, for instance, of memory. Man has, however, very little conscious knowledge of the various functions discharged by the ether- body. He knows their results. He knows, for example, when he is hungry; but he can scarcely be said to know how this condition of hunger is brought about. The activity of the ether-body remains largely unconscious.

Now it is the production of the vowel element in speech that takes place between astral body and ether body. When the impulse of speech passes over from the astral body, where it originates, to the ether body, we have the vowel. The vowel is thus something which comes into operation -deep within the inner being of man; it is formed more unconsciously than is speech in general. In the vowel sounds we are dealing with intensely intimate aspects of speech; what comes to expression in them is something that belongs to the very essence of man's being. This is then the result when the speech impetus impinges on the ether-body: it gives rise to the vowel element in speech.

In the other direction, the astral body impinges on the I, the ego. The I, in the form in which we have it in Earthman, is something everyone knows and recognises. For it is by means of the I that we have our sense perceptions. We owe it also essentially to the I that we are able to think. All conscious activity belongs in the sphere of the I or ego. What goes on in speech, however, since there the astral body is also concerned, cannot be performed entirely consciously, like some fully conscious activity of will. A fragment of consciousness does, nevertheless, definitely enter into the consonantal element in ordinary speech; for the speaking of consonants takes place between astral body and ego.

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We have thus traced back to their source the forming of consonants and the forming of vowels. But we can go further. We can ask: What is it in the totality of man's nature that speech brings to revelation? We shall be able to answer this question when we have first dealt with the further question: How was it with the primeval speech of man? What was speech like in its beginnings?

The speech of primitive man was verily a wonderful thing. Apart from the fact that man felt instinctively obliged from the first to speak in rhythm and in measure, even to speak in assonance and alliteration—apart from this, in those early times, man felt in speech and thought in speech.

Looking first into his life of feeling, we find it was not like ours today. In comparison with it, our feelings tend to remain in the abstract. Primeval man, in the very moment of feeling, were it even a feeling of the most intimate kind, would at once express it in speech. He would not have found it possible, for instance, to have a tender feeling for a little child without being prompted in his soul to bring that feeling to expression in the form of his speech. Merely to say: ‘I love him tenderly’, would have had no meaning for him; what would have had meaning would have been to say perhaps: ‘I love this little child so very ei-ei-ei!’[5] There was always the need to permeate one's whole feeling with artistically formed speech.

Neither in those olden times did men have abstract thoughts as we do today. Abstract thoughts without speech were unknown. As soon as man thought something, the thought immediately became in him word and sentence. He spoke it inwardly. It is therefore not surprising that at the beginning of the Gospel of St. John we do not find it said: ‘In the beginning was the Thought’, but : ‘In the beginning was the Word’—the verbum, the Word. today we think within, thinking our abstract thoughts; primeval man spoke within, talked within.

Such then was the character of primeval speech. It contained feeling within it, and thought. It was, so to say, the treasure-casket in man for feeling and thought. Thought has now shifted, it has slipped up more into the ego; speech has remained in the astral body; feeling has slid down into the ether body.

The poetry of primeval times was one, was single; it expressed in speech what man could feel and think about things The original poetry was one. When, later on, speech threw back feeling inwards, into man's inner nature, that gave rise to the lyric mood of speech. The kind of poetry that has remained most of all like the primeval, the kind of poetry that, more than any other, is inherent in speech itself is the epic. It is, in fact, impossible to speak epic poetry without first reviving something of the original primal feeling in regard to speech. Finally, drama drives speech outwards and stands, in so far as Earth-man is concerned, in relation with the external world.

The artist who is taking part in drama, unless of course he is speaking a monologue, confronts another person. And this fact, that he is face to face with another person, enters into his speaking just as surely as what he experiences in himself.

The artist who has to speak a lyric is not confronting another person. He faces himself alone. His speech must accordingly be so formed that it may become the pure expression of his inner being. The lyric of today can therefore not be spoken in any other way than by letting even the consonants lean over a little in the direction of vowels. (We shall go into this in more detail later.) To speak lyrical poetry aright, you need to know that every consonant carries in it a vowel nuance. L, for example, carries in it an i (ee), which you can see for yourselves from the fact that in many languages where at some time in their development an I occurs in a certain word, in other forms of that word we find an i.⁴ As a matter of fact, all consonants have within them something of the quality of a vowel. And for speaking lyrics it is of the first importance that we should learn to perceive the vowel in each single consonant.

The epic requires a different feeling. (All that I am saying in this connection has reference to recitation or declamation before an audience.) The speaker must feel: When I come to a vowel, I am coming near to man himself; but directly I come to a consonant, it is things I am catching at, things that are outside. If the artist once has this feeling, then it will be possible for the epic to be truly present in his speaking. Epic has to do, not with man's inner life alone, but with the inner life and an imagined outer object. For the theme of the epic is not there; it is only imagined. If we are relating something, it must belong to the past, or in any case cannot be there in front of us; otherwise, there would be no occasion to relate it. The speaker of epic is thus concerned with the human being and the object or theme that exists only in thought.

For the speaker of drama, the ‘object’ of his speaking is present in its full reality, the person he addresses is standing there in front of him.

There then you have the distinguishing characteristics of lyric, epic and drama. They need to be well and carefully noted. I have already in past years spoken of them here and there from different points of view, and have sought to evolve a suitable terminology for distinguishing the different ways of speaking them. What I have given on those earlier occasions—I mean it to be experienced, I mean it to be felt. You must have a clear and accurate feeling for what each kind of poetry demands. Thus, you should feel that to speak lyrical poetry means to speak right out of one's inner being.

The inner being of man is here revealing itself. When man's soul within him is so powerfully affected that it ‘must out’—and this is how it is with the lyric—then what was, to begin with, mere feeling, passes over into a calling aloud; and we have, from the point of view of speech, declamation. One domain, then, of the art of speech is declamation, and it is especially adapted for lyrical poetry. The lyrical element is present of course in every form of poetry; while we are speaking epic or drama, we can often find ourselves in the situation of having to make the transition here and there to the lyrical.

With the speaker of epic, the essential point is that he has before him an object that is not seen but thought, and by means of the magic that lies in his speech he is continually ‘citing’ this object. The artist of the epic is pre-eminently a ‘re-citer’. So here we have recitation. The speaker of the lyric expresses himself, reveals himself; he is a declaimer. The speaker who cites his object, making it present to his audience by the magic of his speech—he is a reciter.

And now in this course of lectures we have opportunity to go further and complete our classification. We come then to the speaker who has before him, not his imagined object that he cites, but present before him in bodily form the object to whom he speaks, with whom he is conversing. And so we reach the third form of speech: conversation.

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It is through these three kinds of speech-formation that speaking becomes an art. The last is the one that is most misunderstood. Conversation, as we know all too well, has been dragged right away from the realm of art, and today you will find persons looked up to as past masters in conversation who are less at home in art than they are—shall I say—in diplomacy, or perhaps in the ‘afternoon-tea’ attitude to life. The feeling that conversation is a thing capable of highly artistic development has been completely lost.

Sometimes of course acting ceases to be conversation and becomes monologue. When this happens, drama reaches over into the other domains, into declamation and recitation.

To draw distinctions in this way between different forms of poetry may perhaps seem a little pedantic, but it will help to show that we do really have to create for the teaching of speech something similar to what we have, for example, in the teaching of music. When, for instance, a dialogue is to be put on the stage, it will be necessary to form that dialogue in a way that is right and appropriate to it as ‘conversation’.

I would like now to show you how within speech itself, if we see it truly for what it is, the need for artistic forming emerges. We use in our speaking some thirty-two sounds. Suppose you had learned the sounds, but were not yet able to put them together in words. If you were then to take up Goethe's Faust, the whole book would consist for you of just these thirty-two sounds. For it contains nothing more! And yet, in their combination, these thirty-two sounds make Goethe's Faust.

A great deal is implied in this statement. We have simply these thirty-two sounds; and through the forming and shaping of them, sound by sound, the whole measureless wealth of speech is called into being. But the forming is already there within the sounds themselves, within this whole system of sounds. Let us take an example.

We speak the sound a (ah). What is this sound? A is released from the soul, when the soul is overflowing with wonder. That is how it was to begin with. Wonder, astonishment, liberated from the soul the sound a. Every word that has the sound a has originated in a desire to express wonder; take any word you will, you will never be altogether out, nor need you ever be afraid of being dilettante, if you assume this Take, for instance, the word Band (a band or ribbon). In some way it happened that what the man of an earlier time called Band filled him with wonder, and that is why he brought the a sound into the word. (That the same thing has in another language quite a different name is of no consequence. It means only that the people who spoke that language felt differently related to the object.) Whenever man is particularly astonished, then if he has still some understanding of what it is to be thus filled with wonder (as was the case when language began to be formed), he will bring that wonder or astonishment to expression by means of the sound a. One has only to understand where wonder is in place. You can, for instance, marvel at someone's luxurious Haarwuchs (growth of hair) You can also marvel at the Kahlkopf (bald head) of someone who has lost his Haar. Or again, you can be astounded at the effect of a Haarwasser (hair lotion) which makes the hair grow again. In fact, everything connected with hair can evoke profound admiration and astonishment—so much so that we do not simply write Har, we write the a twice—Haar!

Wherever you meet the sound a, look for the starting- point of the word in an experience of wonder, and you will be carried back to the early days of evolution, when man was first shaping and forming his words. And this forming of words was an activity that worked with far greater power than present-day theories would lead us to suppose.

But now, what does this mean? It means that when a man is filled with wonder at some object or event, he gives himself up to that object or event, he lets himself go. For how is the sound a made? What does it consist in? A requires the whole organism of speech to be opened wide, beginning from the mouth. Man lets his astral body flow out. When he says a, he is really on the point of falling asleep. Only, he stops himself in time. But how often will the feeling of fatigue find expression at once in the sound a! Whenever we utter a, we are letting our astral body out, or beginning to do so. The act of opening out wide—that is what you have in a.

The absolute opposite of a is u (oo). When you say u, then beginning from the mouth you contract the speech organs, wherever possible, before you let the sound go through. The whole speech organism is more closed with u than with any other vowel sound. There then you have the two contrasting opposites: a u. Between a and u lies o. O actually includes within it, in rightly formed speech, the processes of a and the processes of u; o holds together in a kind of harmony the processes of opening out and the processes of closing up.

U signifies that we are in process of waking up, that we are becoming continually more awake than we were. When you say u, it shows that you are feeling moved to wake up in respect of some object that you perceive. When the owl makes himself heard at night, you instinctively exclaim: ‘Uhu!’⁵ You could not find stronger expression for the desire to wake up. The owl makes you want to wake up and be alive to the fact of its presence. And if someone were to fling a little sand at you—we don't of course have sand on our desks now, we use blotting paper—but suppose you were being pelted with sand, then, if you were to give way to your feelings without restraint, you would say ‘uff’. For it is the same whether something or other wakes you up, or you yourself are wanting to wake up. In either case u comes out. The astral is here uniting itself more closely with the etheric and physical bodies. The a is thus more consonantal and the u more vocalic

In some of the German dialects, one can often not discern whether people are saying a or r, for the r becomes with them vocalic and the a consonantal. In the Styrian dialect, for example, it is impossible to know whether someone is saying ‘Bur’ or ‘Bua’.

All the other vowels lie between a and u. Roughly speaking, the o is in the middle, but not quite; it occupies the same position between a and u as in music the fourth does in the octave.

Suppose now we want to express what is contained in O. In O we have the confluence of A and U; it is where waking up and falling asleep meet. O is thus the moment either of falling asleep or of awaking. When the Oriental teacher wanted his pupils to be neither asleep nor awake, but to make for that boundary between sleeping and waking where so much can be experienced, he would direct them to speak the syllable OM. In this way he led them to the life that is between waking and sleeping.

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For, anyone who keeps repeating continually the syllable OM will experience what it means to be between the condition of being awake and the condition of being asleep. A teaching like this comes from a time when the speech organism was still understood.

And now let us see how it was when a teacher in the Mysteries wanted to take his pupils further. He would say to himself: The O arises through the U wanting to go to the A and the A at the same time wanting to go to the U. So, after I have taught the pupil how to stand between sleeping and waking in the OM, if I want now to lead him on a step further, then instead of getting him to speak the 0 straight out, I must let the 0 arise in him through his speaking AOUM. Instead of OM, he is now to say AOUM. In this way the pupil creates the OM, brings it to being. He has reached a higher stage. OM with the O separated into A and U gives the required stillness to the more advanced pupil. Whereas the less advanced pupil has to be taken straight to the boundary condition between sleep and waking, the more advanced has to pass from A (falling asleep) to U (waking up), building the transition for himself. Being then between the two, he has within him the moment of experience that holds both.

If we are able to feel how such modes of instruction came about, we can have some idea of what it means to say that in olden times it was by way of art that man came to an instinctive apprehension of the nature of speech. For down into the time of the ancient Greeks, men still had knowledge of how every activity and experience had its place in the world, where it intrinsically belonged.

Think of the Greek gymnastics,—those marvellous gymnastics that were really a complete language in themselves! What are they? How did they evolve? To begin with, there was the realisation that the will lives in the limbs. And the very first thing the will does is to bring man into connection with the earth, so that a relationship of force develops between man's limbs and the earth, and you have: Running In running, man is in connection with the earth. If he now goes a little way into himself, and to the dynamics into which running brings him and the mechanics that establishes a balance between him and the earth's gravitation, adds an inner dynamic, then he goes over into: Leaping. For in leaping we have to develop a mechanics in the legs themselves.

And now suppose to this mechanics that has been developed in the legs, man adds a mechanics that is brought about, not this time merely by letting the earth be active and establishing a balance with it, but by coming also to a state of balance in the horizontal,—the balance already established being in the vertical. Then you have: Wrestling.

Running
Leaping
Wrestling.

In Running, you have Man and Earth; in Leaping, Man and Earth, but with a variation in the part played by man; in Wrestling, Man and the other object.

If now you bring the object still more closely to man, if you give it into his hand, then you have: Throwing the Discus. Observe the progression in dynamics And if then to the dynamics of the heavy body (which is what you have in discus-throwing), you add also the dynamics of direction, you have: Throwing the Spear.

Running
Leaping
Wrestling
Discus-throwing
Spear-throwing.

Such then are these five main exercises of Greek gymnastics; and they are perfectly adapted to the conditions of the cosmos. That was the feeling the Greeks had about a gymnastics that revealed the human being in his entirety.

But men had the very same feeling in those earlier times about the revelation of the human being in speech. Mankind has changed since then; consequently, the use and handling of speech has inevitably also changed.

In the Seventh Scene of my first Mystery Play, where Maria appears with Philia, Astrid and Luna, I have made a first attempt to use language entirely and purely in the way that is right for our time and civilisation. Thought, which is generally lifted out of speech, abstracted from it, is there brought down again into speech.

We will accordingly take tomorrow part of this scene for demonstration, and so make a beginning with the practical side of our work. Frau Dr. Steiner will read from the scene; and then, following on today’s introductory remarks, we will proceed with the First Part of the course—the study of the Forming of Speech.

• 1. The courses of study and training given at the Goetheanum were grouped by Dr. Steiner under various `Sections’, each with its Leader.
• 2. English parallels will readily occur to the reader, such as 'might and main', 'safe and sound', etc., and our use of 'stocks and stones' in another connection.
• 3. The Waldorf School in Stuttgart, founded in 1919 by Emil Molt, was the first of the now numerous Rudolf Steiner Schools where the teaching and education are carried on in accordance with his indications. Dr. Steiner was a constant visitor to the school from the beginning, giving help and advice in every detail of management and method up to the time of his last illness in the winter of 1924-5.
• 4. For example, in German-speaking countries, a boy named Hans may be called ' for short ' either Hansi or Hansl.
• 5. The commoner German word for owl is Eule, but Uhu, the specific name for the eagle-owl, is also used.

On New Year's Eve it is always fitting to remember how past and future are linked together in life and in the existence of the world, how past and future are linked in the whole life of the Cosmos of which man is a part, how past and future are linked in every fraction of that life with which our own individual existence is connected, is interwoven through all that we were able to do and to think during the past year, and through all that we are able to plan for the coming year.

The thoughts which, almost in answer to an inward need, we call up before our souls in reviewing what we have done during the past year, and what we intend to do next year, should be pervaded with adequate earnestness and dignity, in accordance with the spirit of Anthroposophical Spiritual Science, so that we may illumine these thoughts with the Higher Light which we can receive from Spiritual Science, through contemplation of the great Cosmic events. How does this human life of ours stand with regard to past and future? It is like a mirror. Indeed, comparison with a mirror approaches reality far more than it may seem to do at first. Striving a little to attain self-knowledge is indeed like standing before a mirror. We stand, looking into a mirror and there in that mirror lies the past, of which we know its reflection is in the mirror. Behind the mirror lies that into which at first we cannot look, just as it is not possible to see in space, what lies behind a mirror. Perhaps the question should be raised here: What is it that corresponds in our world-mirror to the silver covering at the back which turns the transparent glass into a mirror? In the ordinary mirror the glass is coated behind so that we cannot see through it. What constitutes the coating of the world-mirror that reflects the past for us, and at first keeps the future hidden from our gaze? The world-mirror is coated with our own being, with our own human being. We have only to bear in mind that with the usual means of knowledge we are really unable to see ourselves, to see what we ourselves are. We cannot see through ourselves, we see through ourselves just as little as we see through a mirror. When we look into ourselves, many things are mirrored back to us, things which we have experienced, things which we have learnt; but our own being remains hidden from us, because we can see through ourselves at first just as little as we can see through an ordinary mirror. Looking at the matter generally, or I might say, in the abstract, we may consider this comparison with a mirror as I have just described it. But when we come to details modifications are needed. Trying to look back on our life through this mirroring process (for looking back on our life, on what our inner soul reflects, is a mirroring process), we must confess: What we see mirrored there, is only a part of our experiences. When you try to look back on your experiences, you will find that these experiences are continually subject to interruptions. You look back on what the day has brought you; but you do not look back on what the preceding night has brought you. The experiences of the night are an interruption. You look back on yesterday, you do not look back on the night before yesterday, and so on. Stretches of nighttime, not filled in by thoughts upon our experiences, are continually inserting themselves. It is an illusion to think that we survey our entire life when looking back upon it; we only piece together to some extent, what the days contain. In reality, the course of our life comes before us with continual interruptions.

We might now ask: Are these interruptions in the course of our life necessary? Yes, they are necessary. Were there no such interruptions in the course of our life, or, to speak more correctly, in the retrospection upon our life's course, then, as human beings, we should be quite unable to perceive our Ego. We should see the course of our life filled merely by the world outside, and in our life there would be no ego-consciousness at all. That we are able to experience, to feel our Ego, depends on the fact that our life's course is continually being broken up piece-wise. It is precisely with respect to this ego-perception, brought about by interruptions in the course of life, that present-day humanity faces a critical period. When a human being of today looks back on life and, as has just been explained, attains his Ego through this looking back, this Ego of present-day man is, in a certain respect, empty, we only know that we have an Ego. In earlier periods of earth evolution men knew more. Just as in ordinary daily life, the dreams of an individual dimly emerge out of his nightly experiences, so the clairvoyant-atavistic perceptions of the human beings of earlier periods emerged out of the Ego. These clairvoyant-atavistic perceptions were dreams only in their form; what they contained was reality. We may say: The Ego of present-day man has been emptied of the clairvoyant-atavistic content which was the support of men of past ages, permeating them with the conviction that they had something in common with a divine element, that they were connected with something divine. Out of these atavistic-clairvoyant visions, there arose in man's sentient life that which condensed into religious feeling and religious veneration towards those beings to whom religious cult and religious sacrifice were dedicated. How does the case stand today? Today the Ego is empty of these atavistic-clairvoyant visions, and when we look back on the Ego it is more or less only a point in our soul-life. The content of this Ego is a firm point of support, but it is nevertheless only a point. Now, however, we are living in an age in which the point must again become a circle, an age in which the Ego must again receive a content. Since the last third of the nineteenth century, the Spiritual World has made a mighty inroad into our Sense-world, in order that the Ego may again receive a content. This is why, ever since the seventies of the nineteenth century, the Spiritual World has willed to re-enter our physical existence through revelations in a new way. What we are striving for in Anthroposophical Spiritual Science is this: To receive with goodwill all that is seeking to enter through spiritual revelation from another world—from a world, however, which bears within it this world of ours—and to clothe these revelations in terms by which they can be communicated to man. These revelations are nothing less than that which definitely (in a certain respect) guarantees the future of mankind. It is not, indeed, a direct glance behind the mirror, but it is a guarantee for this, viz., that when we as human beings, hasten to meet the future i.e., hasten to step behind the mirror—which means facing the future—then that which we have to do in the future will be able to come to pass in full power, if we have first tested our forces, if we have first strengthened them through that, which, by means of Spiritual Science, reveals itself to us out of the Spiritual World.

Just as in the past, man's Ego was filled with an atavistic clairvoyant content, which guaranteed his connection with the divine, so today our Ego must be filled with a new spiritual content, received in full consciousness, a content which gives us again the link uniting our soul with the divine Soul-being. The men of the past possessed an atavistic clairvoyance. The last inheritance of this atavistic clairvoyance is abstract reflection, the abstract power of cognition possessed by modern men. It is a much diluted remnant of the early clairvoyance. The man of today can feel that this dilution, this logical dialectic dilution of a former atavistic clairvoyance, is no longer able to support his soul. Then the longing will arise within him to receive something new into his Ego. But that which has formed the end in the evolution of mankind from primeval times up to the present, must now be made the beginning. In olden times, man had clairvoyant revelations and did not understand them. Today man must first understand, must exert to the utmost his intellectual power, must exert to the utmost his reason. If he so exerts it through that which lies before him in Spiritual Science, then mankind will again develop the power of receiving the Spiritual clairvoyantly. This is certainly something that most people today wish to avoid, viz., to make use of their healthy human reason in order to understand Spiritual Science. Were it possible to avoid the use of man's reason, it would also be possible to avoid altogether the entrance of spiritual revelations into our earthly world.

Thus past and future are linked together on this New Year's Eve, this Cosmic New Year's Day. For today, what is impending is indeed a kind of Cosmic New Year's Day. The future stands before us as a formidable question, not an indefinite abstract question, but as a concrete question. How can we approach that which, as a question put to mankind, in the form of a spiritual revelation, is striving more and more since the last third of the nineteenth century, to enter our earthly world? And how are we to place it in relation to revelations of the past? These questions should be livingly experienced. Then we should feel how important it is to direct our longings towards that which is presented here as Anthroposophical Spiritual Science. Then we should realize the earnestness and the dignity of the striving for Spiritual Science. It is especially needful to have this feeling at the present time. For we are not dealing with any kind of arbitrary human will (“Willkur”); we are dealing with something that as Cosmic knowledge wills to reveal itself to us from out of the world's evolution; we are dealing in very truth with what the gods will to make of man. But here we are faced with the fact that when we on the one hand turn towards the spirit, on the other hand those who wish only to worship the past, are drawn away by the Spirit of contradiction, by the Spirit of opposition. And the more we try with all our might to grasp the spirit of the future state of man, the more surely will the people of the past be possessed by the spirit of opposition. It is to be noticed among people of today that religious feeling is seeking to assume new life. Groping attempts are numerous. The attempts of Spiritual Science must not be groping. Through such attempts the real, concrete world of the Spirit ought to be grasped. Almost like a premonition of what it ought to be, we are faced by those who say: “Mere religious tradition is not enough for us; we want to have an inner religious experience, we do not only want to hear the message that, according to tradition, Christ lived and died in Palestine so many, or so many years ago—we want to experience in our souls the Christ-experience.” In many quarters we find such ideas arising among men, among people who believe that something of the Christ-experience has arisen in the depths of their souls.

These are groping attempts, often even questionable attempts, because at the same time people are content in the egoism of their soul, and then turn away from all inclination to the Spirit. These longings after inner spiritual experience are there nevertheless, and even groping attempts towards such inner spiritual experience, towards a new interest in the spiritual world, should be recognized. But the spirit of opposition will surely arise.

To judge by what he himself has printed, such a representative of the spirit of the past has recently uttered quite remarkable words at Stuttgart, contrasting attempts, groping attempts, to rouse a new religious interest, a new religious experience, with attempts to reach a really new concrete knowledge of the spiritual world, as in the case of Anthroposophical Spiritual Science. In the Shepherd-Play, performed at the Waldorf School, one of the shepherds, who has had a spiritual vision, says that he very nearly lost his power of speech. When I read the last page of Gogarten's Spiritual Science and Christianity, I must say that I very nearly lost my power of speech, for it is indeed surprising that anyone should say such things in the present age. It is things such as this that, on the Cosmic New Year's Eve, should stimulate contemplation of the comparison of the past with the inevitable future. What does this representative of religion really say? I do not know if the full import has been realized. He says: “Today—I ought to say at all times—the chief task is to safeguard the elementary feeling of piety of which I have spoken. It is almost wholly lacking today. We are occupied with religious ‘interests’ with religious ‘experiences’. Since Anthroposophy provides such good material for ‘interest’, and is such a good medium for ‘experiences’, people are helpless and without power of resistance when they meet it. People know even less of that fundamental, elementary bond, the bond brought into life by piety, which drives away every religious ‘interest’, and scatters every religious ‘experience’, the bond between God and creature. And because man knows little of this bond, he knows still less of that other bond, the unconditioned direct union between God and man.”

Here in the name of religion we see every religious interest repudiated, every religious experience scattered. A wholly undefined “bond” which cannot of course be differentiated, and which the speaker does not wish to differentiate, takes the place of religious interest, and of religious experience. We do indeed lose our power of speech when a teacher of religion says: “True piety must drive away every religious interest and scatter every religious experience.” We have gone so far that we are unable to realize what it means when an official representative of religion says: “Away with religious interest! Away with religious experience!” You see, apart from the fact that Gogarten does not know that he himself would be quite unable to speak of religion at all, if in the past there had never been atavistic religious interests and religious experience; apart from the fact that he as official representative of religion, could never have stood before an audience had not religion entered into the evolution of mankind, through religious interest and religious experience; apart from all this, everything I have told you just now proves what I told you before, that in the present day the very people who consider themselves the true representatives of religious life, work for the destruction of all that is essential in religion. Have these men lost every possibility of understanding what pertains to the human soul? Can these men no longer understand that when man turns his attention to anything, attention is guided by interest, and that everything entering the consciousness of man is based on experience? It seems as if human beings no longer speak from such consciousness at all, but only from a spirit of opposition. We should bear this in mind in all seriousness when we look into the mirror which so mysteriously unveils the past and conceals the future—though in a certain way the mirror unveils the future, too, in the way I have described.

It is the aim of Anthroposophical Spiritual Science to serve religious interest, and to give a content to religious experience. With what result? In the course of this year (1919) the question was brought forward before the Holy Roman Congregation whether the teaching that is termed theosophical is in keeping with the teaching of the Catholic Church, and whether it is permissible to belong to theosophical societies, to attend theosophical meetings, and to read theosophical papers and periodicals. The answer was: “No”, in every case, No, “in omnibus”. This is the spirit of opposition, of contradiction, and the Jesuit Zimmermann interprets it more particularly by applying this veto of the Holy Roman Congregation to Anthroposophy also. I need not set Zimmermann's writings before you in detail. You all know the wind that blows from a certain quarter against Anthroposophical Spiritual Science, and that it is the breath of the Spirit of contradiction. The Spirit carried in this wind can be felt in the following words, penned by that same Zimmermann, who for years spread abroad the lie that I was a renegade priest: “Through the defection of their General Secretary, Dr. Rudolf Steiner, who took along with him most of the members, the Theosophical Society picked up again to some extent in the course of years, and now owns about twenty-five lodges, one-fifth of which are certainly somewhat dormant, and publishes at Dusseldorf, as its official organ, Das Theosophische Streben (The Theosophic Endeavour). The followers of Steiner, who named his theosophy ‘Anthroposophy’ after his exit, complained recently that he was becoming unproductive, that he had no new ‘visions’, that he always lectures upon the same things, that he would soon have to throw himself into something new, etc.” This paves the way for another article dealing in the same intelligent fashion with the “Threefold Social Organism”. You see what Spirit of truth backs up this Jesuit? A Jesuit does not merely represent his personal opinion, but the opinion of the Catholic Church. He speaks only as a member of the Catholic Church. What he says represents the opinion of the Catholic Church. We must judge such things from a moral point of view. We must ask whether anyone who deals with truth as this man does—a man, moreover, held in high esteem by a particular religious community, can be held in high esteem by the true spirit of humanity.

As long as questions of this kind are not considered with due earnestness, we have not arrived at the right understanding of the Cosmic New Year's Eve. At the present moment, it is essential to reach this right understanding. It is essential for us to extend our sympathies—alas, our sympathies often arise from egoistic sources—to the great human relations, and to feel for the whole of mankind that human sympathy which impels us to make a spiritual movement like this effectively fruitful for the evolution of mankind. May you experience, my dear friends, at this very time, that it is the Spirit of the Cosmos itself, which for decades has been seeking entrance. May you experience during the coming night, that this Spirit which seeks to enter humanity, shall here so be served that the souls of those, who will to feel with and who will to think with Anthroposophical Spiritual Science, may feel their union with this new Spirit which wills to enter the world—the Spirit which alone can bring to the earthly world, the world that is destroying itself—the new upbuilding impulse out of Heaven. In this hour, a symbolic hour every year, demanding that we experience it as the decisive hour between past and future—in this hour may you unite your souls with the new Spirit; may you so experience in your souls the contact of the past year with the coming year, that the Cosmic Year which is passing away, may contact itself with the dawning Cosmic Year.

But the passing Cosmic Year will still send many an after-effect into the future; destructive forces into the spheres of Spirit, of Equity, of Economics. Therefore it is all the more needful, that as many men as possible shall be seized in the innermost depths of their souls by the New Year of the Spiritual Future, and shall develop a Will which may be the foundation of a new spiritual world, a world to be built into the future evolution of mankind. Those who care for the future of mankind are not those who would kill religious interest, who would do away with religious experience, but those only, those alone who can see how, through the intellectuality of our age, the old religious interest has faded away, the old religious life has been crippled. Those only care for the future, who see how a new interest must seize mankind, how new religious experience must spring up in mankind, so that man may bring into the Cosmos new germs for a future existence.

Some of our friends have asked me to speak about language while I am here in Stuttgart. At such short notice and with our limited time, this will have to be rather sketchy, certainly more so than with our scientific course. And you will have to have even more forbearance than you did for my remarks on “light,” because what I say about language will simply be improvised. All I can do is to give you a few useful suggestions for your teaching here in the Waldorf School and also for teaching in general.

Perhaps we can find what we're after by first looking at some elements of language from an historical standpoint. Whatever I can bring together somewhat loosely today will be an introduction to further discussion during the rest of the time.

We can see especially in German how the development of a people’s language expresses also the development of its soul life. We must keep clearly in mind, however, that the relationship of individuals to their own language varies from century to century. The further we go back in the history of a people, the more life we find in everything pertaining to language, within the forces of the human soul as well as in the pliant forces of the human body. I have often been aware of this; you will find as you go through my books a quite conscious attempt to use terms of Germanic derivation, even in philosophical matters.¹ This is frowned upon by many of my detractors, who condemn exactly what has been done very consciously with languages in my books. It is extremely difficult nowadays to find in German the inner, living forces able to continue forming the language. It is particularly difficult to find semantic correspondences by picking up some little-used word or extending the forms of a common one, as for instance I tried to do with the word kraften [The German noun Kraft ‘force, strength’ has only its corresponding adjective kraftig ‘strong, robust’. Rudolf Steiner invented the corresponding verb kraften ‘to work actively, forcefully’ and the verbal noun das Kraften ‘actively working force or strength’.] I tried with this to put action into what is usually expressed more passively. Other words I have also attempted, but—only one century since Goethe—it is already difficult to coin the far-reaching new words that will express precisely what we are trying to incorporate into our age as a new kind of thinking. We can hardly remember that the word Bildung ‘education, training, formation’ goes back no further than the time of Goethe (1749–1832). Before that, there existed no educated (gebildete) people in Germany. That is, we did not speak of someone as ein gebildeter Mensch ‘a person of culture, well-educated’. Even in the second half of the eighteenth century the German language had still kept a strong, sculptural vitality, so that it was possible to form such words as Bildung or even Weltanschauung ‘world view’, a term that also appeared after Goethe’s time. One is indeed very fortunate to live in a language milieu that permits such new formations. This good fortune is evident when one’s books are translated into French, English, and other languages and one hears about the difficulties. Translators are working by the sweat of their brow as best they can, but always, when a person finishes something, another finds it horrible and no one else finds it any good. When you go into the matter more closely, it's clear that many things in my books simply can't be said in the same way in another language. I tell people: In German everything and anything is right; you can put the subject first or in the middle or at the end of the sentence—it will be more or less correct. The pedantic, dogmatic rule that something absolutely can't be said in a certain way does not yet exist in German as it does in the western languages. Imagine what we have come to when we're limited to stereotyped expressions! People cannot yet think as individuals but only in a sort of group spirit about the things they want to communicate to others. That is pre-eminently the case with the people of the western civilizations: They think in stereotyped phrases.

Actually, the German language in particular shows that what I would like to call the GENIUS OF LANGUAGE has gradually become rigid, and that German in our time is also approaching the state where we can't escape the stereotyped phrases. This was not so in Goethe’s time and even less so in earlier ages. It is part of the picture of the whole language development in Central Europe.

Not so long ago this Central Europe, stretching far to the East, was still inhabited by a primitive people with great spiritual gifts but with a relatively simple outward culture, one that evolved substantially from trade and the economic life. Then roundabout, by way of the East Germanic tribes at first, much of the spiritual culture of Greece was absorbed. Through this, a great many Greek words entered the Germanic languages of Central Europe that later became modern German. During the centuries when Christianity spread from the South to the North, its concepts, ideas, and images brought along an enormous quantity of vocabulary, because the Germanic tribes had no available expressions in their own languages for such things.

The word segnen ‘to bless’, for instance, is one of the words that came with Christianity. The specific concept of “blessing” did not exist in northern Germanic heathendom. There were indeed magic charms and they contained a magic power, but this was not of the same nature as a blessing. Segnen, the verb from the noun Segen, was taken into the language under the influence of Christianity; the word brought northward was signum, a ‘sign’. Do observe what the genius of language still possessed at that time: language-forming strength! Nowadays we are no longer able to reconstruct and rework an adopted word in such a way that signum could become Segen, a blessing. We would treat the adopted word as an unchanged import, because the force and vitality that once transformed and created from the innermost depths simply do not well up any more.

Many words we take as completely German are in fact intruders; they appeared with Christianity. Look at the word predigen ‘preach’. It is none other than the Latin praedicare, which also means ‘to preach’. It was still possible to reconstruct this word from inside out. We never had a genuinely German word for this Christian activity of preaching. You see, if we want to get to know the actual force in German that transforms the language, we must first pour it through a sieve to sift out everything that entered our Central European culture from other cultural streams. In many of our words you will hardly notice it. You speak about the Christmas festival, feeling a strong attachment to it. Weihnacht ‘Holy Night, Christmas’ is a genuine German word, but Fest festival’ is Roman, a Latin word that long ago became a German word. Fest goes back to the time when, along with Christianity, the most foreign elements found their way into the language, but at the same time were so transformed that we do not have at all the feeling today that they are imports. Who in the world remembers now that verdammen ‘condemn, damn’ is a Latin word that has become good German? We have to sift a great deal if we want to get to what is really the German language proper.

Many things came in with Christianity; others have entered because out of Christianity the whole system of education developed. The subject matter for educating was taken over in exactly the form it had in the South in the Greco-Latin culture. And there were no Germanic words for what had to be communicated. Along with the concepts, the vocabulary had to be imported. This happened first in the “Latin school” (high school), then it moved down into the lower school, and so today the basis of our education, the Schule ‘school’, itself is an imported word. Schule is no more a German word than scholasticism. Klasse ‘class’ is obviously a foreign word. Wherever you look: Tafel ‘blackboard’; cognate, table from tabula, schreiben ‘to write’; cognate, scribe are imports. Everything pertaining to school entered our language from outside; it came—with education itself—with Latin or the Romance languages from the South.

All this is one stratum that we have to sift off if we want to study the character of the German language proper. Almost all the specifically foreign words must be lifted off, because they do not express what comes out of the German folk soul but have been poured over its real being, forming a kind of varnish on its surface. We have to look for what lies underneath the surface. For instance, if we look beneath the varnish for things pertaining to education; we find relatively little, but that much is distinctive: Lehrer ‘teacher’, for one, a genuinely original German word, as is the word Buchstabe ‘letter of the alphabet'—Buch ‘book’ is derived from it. It takes us back to the staves or sticks thrown down in ancient times to form the letters or runes that made up the runic words. They were beechwood sticks (Buche = ‘beech’). From this then came the zusammenlesen ‘gathering together’, from which comes lesen ‘to pick up’, as well as ‘to read’ and then the Leser ‘reader’, which became Lehrer ‘teacher’. These are ancient Germanic formulations, but you see that they have a totally different character, leading us back everywhere to the soul life of that time in Central Europe. The old heathen ways and the Christian ways collided, and with them the two elements of language, the northern and the southern. You can imagine what a strong power of interpenetration must have existed within the German language during the first millennium after the Mystery of Golgotha, that it could accept Christianity as strongly as it did and be at the same time able to accept the words that expressed the most essential mysteries of Christianity.

With this import, however, only one layer has been described, leading us back into the very early times connected with the great Germanic migrations, when the first Romance language stratum worked its way into the German language. Later the Romance languages were again to exert their influence. We can observe a second stratum originating from the Romance languages through various occurrences but this time coming from the West. Beginning in the twelfth century and continuing into the eighteenth, French words were taken over continually, French words for which there existed concepts and feelings, but by means of which the concepts and feelings were also modified. I have jotted down a number of these words but cannot claim any sort of completeness, for these lectures are being improvised from memory. I have tried to take words that seem truly German: for instance, the word fein ‘fine’. You won't find this word before the twelfth century; it came by way of fin from the French. Here you can see how the language-forming power in the thirteenth century was still strong enough to transform a word so well that it is felt today to be a genuine German word. Even a word like Kumpan ‘fellow, companion’, which has become very popular, is only an adaptation of compagnon, and a word we often hear nowadays, Partei ‘political party’ also immigrated at that time, as well as Tanz ‘dance’. All these words have been in the German language only since the second invasion of the twelfth century, which I would like to call French: Schach ‘chess’, Matt ‘checkmate’, Karte ‘card’, Ass ‘ace’, kaputt ‘broken’, and so forth. It is quite remarkable how many words came into Germany from the West, from France, during the twelfth and through the thirteenth, fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth centuries, all of them contributing to the language an element of lightness, of easiness, where the German had a more ponderous quality. Before this time what had been spoken in German areas had a fuller, more rounded character. In it one couldn't very well have expressed playfulness. It would have been quite easy to say, Du bist ein kühner Held “You are a bold hero'—the German language could have managed that—but not, Du bist ein feiner Kerl 'You're a fine fellow’. That could not have been said earlier, for one needed the word fein. Other things would have been just as impossible without the invasion of the French elements.

From Italy, remarkably little reached the more northern areas until, at the time of the Renaissance, some words relating to music came; that was all. However, a third kind of invasion, though not so pervasive, came later by way of a detour through southern Germany and Austria, bringing such words as bizarr ‘odd, eccentric’, lila ‘purple’, [obviously related to lilac] which had not existed earlier in German, Neger ‘negro’, Tomate ‘tomato’, all imported from Spain. Now the introduction of foreign elements enters a new phase; it is obvious that the genius of language is no longer as flexible as it had been. These later words are much more similar to their originals. And finally, when the Germans reached the stage of admitting English words, things had become most unfavorable; this was actually not until the late eighteenth and the nineteenth centuries. Words came into the language that related mostly to outer affairs, but they remained practically the same as in English. The German language genius had by then lost its capacity to adapt and completely absorb into itself something new.

I have tried to point out how in early times the ability to accept and transform language was extraordinarily strong, especially within the Germanic languages and early German. Take, for instance, (and I want to emphasize this in particular) a word that is so German that even a person very sensitive to dialects can really not doubt its authenticity: Riegelwand for Fachwerkwand ‘half-timbered wall’. Riegel ... truly German, as the tongue tastes and pronounces it! And yet this word was not part of the German language until the time when Latin-Italian trained architects used the kind of materials that could construct the Riegelwände. Who is aware today that this word Riegel, so typically German, is nothing other than Regel, regula Latin: ‘rule’. We would not be capable of such changes in our present language. We also think Keller ‘cellar’ is an original German word, but no! It is nothing but an adapted loan-word from the Latin cellarium. I can give you another totally German-looking word to show you how difficult it would have been if people had begun to weed out and eliminate all the foreign words, as certain movements some time ago wanted to do. If that had happened, Riegel would have fallen by the wayside, Keller would have fallen—but do you know what other word would have had to go? Schuster ‘shoemaker’! As a matter of fact, Schuster came into the German language because people from the South taught the Germans to sew their foot-coverings instead of tying them together. The Latin sutor (cf. English: suture) refers to the sewing of footwear and has been assimilated into Schuster; an all-out foreign word.

You can see from this that we really have to sift vigorously to arrive at words of true German origin. We can not just accept what is floating nowadays on the surface of language, for this follows totally different laws. When we want to go back to the true speech-creating forces out of the genius of language, we must first of all sift off what is extraneous. The forming of language takes its course in a peculiar sort of way. You can see this very well by observing how things can still be introduced into a language—I would like to call it, through a certain kind of tyranny, from the bottom up—even when the language-forming genius no longer possesses its full strength. Not so many years ago, for instance, the following took place in Central Europe. Close to Raab there is a small town called Kocsi [now Kocs in Hungary]. I believe it was in the sixteenth century that an inventive fellow in this small place near Raab got the idea of building practical wagons that became very popular for people to drive and ride in. They made the little town well known. And just as Frankfurt sausages are known as ‘frankfurters’, these wagons were called kocsi. Just think how much carrying force was alive in this word, which grew into Kutsche ‘coach’; it traveled to France and even reached the proud English! Yet this word is not especially old; it has moved in relatively recent times with a certain dynamic power in all directions from the wagonmaker in Kocs.

So let us understand this clearly: When we deal with a language already formed, we must remove many outer layers in order to reach the kernel proper. If we do reach this innermost part, we have to say: This kernel shows us without a doubt that it could develop with inner, language-forming strength only at the time when thoughts were much deeper and more substantive than they are, for instance, in German culture today. For this to happen, thoughts must be much more inherent in the whole human being. At the present time we can no longer feel that the force we perceive in our thoughts is also present in our words.

Sometimes we feel this force when we go back to the dialects that are to be found at a deeper, earlier stage of the language. At present, to express quickness we say Blitz ‘lightning’. In certain southern German dialects the word is still Himmlizer. When you say that, you have the whole Blitzform ‘shape of the lightning’ in it: [Himmel is ‘heaven’;—lizer reminds one of licht, ‘light’]. In this word there is a visualization of what takes on form in nature. In short, dialects still reach back to word-forms within which there is an echo of the happenings outside us in nature. This is always the case in the inmost kernel of a language, where the conceptual or ideational element is much closer to the element of sound. Through the history of the German language in particular we can observe how in earlier times, before language became abstract, it was still a matter of course that the meaning of words was imbedded in their sound. I would like to call it a penetration of sense into sound. A sensitive person can still feel it in such words as Tag 'day’; Anglo-Saxon, daeg, a truly original, ancient German word—can feel it in the /t/ and /a:/ (/ah/) sounds, especially through the help of eurythmy. Words that came later were formed out of abstract ideas. Look at the rather modern given name Leberecht ‘liveright’. Parents endow a child with such a name in order to guide him or her with certainty along a virtuous path in life. There’s also Traugott ‘trust-God’. When such words came about, a certain language-forming element still existed but it was abstract, did not arise from a genuine inner source.

I wanted to say all this today as a preparation, so that we can proceed toward more concrete concepts and examples of language.

• 1. In German, we find two words for many things, as in English: will and testament, send and transmit, etc., one Germanic (Anglo-Saxon), the other Greco-Latin. In academic writing, the latter is usually preferred.

Dr. Steiner: The first thing we need to consider for the present eleventh grade is literary history. I want to begin by discussing the continuation of what we taught in the tenth grade. What was done there? The Song of the Niebelungs, Gudrun, meter and poetics. I want to include the treatment of meter and poetics for this class in what I yesterday called aesthetics in art instruction. The first thing is to place what is literary in literature in the foreground. That is, you should try to create a bridge from The Song of the Niebelungs and Gudrun to the major works of the middle ages, Parzival, Armer Heinrich, and such things. Primarily, you should try to elicit in the children a complete imaginative picture through a survey of such things, so that the children learn about Parzival and they feel the part they read in the original reflects the whole story.

A Religion teacher: I have already done that.

Dr. Steiner: That does not matter. When you consider the basic principles in connection with the children in the eleventh grade, it would be good to do the Armer Heinrich again. The Parzival tale is the most important, though.

At the same time, you should cover the history of that period, something that, for children of this age, will certainly have an effect upon their view of the present. You should connect it with the present and show the children which historical figures of the past are similar to those of the present. In particular, show them which ones we would expect to be similar and which ones different. In this way, you can bring a certain capacity for judging into the whole thing. That is what you must take into consideration, so that the children can see the nineteenth century as growing out of previous centuries.

You also need to work with this class in aesthetics and art, in meter and poetics, to observe the various styles. You do not need to remain simply with literary style, you can move on further into the styles of other arts, into musical and sculptural styles. I would certainly use the style definitions given by Gottfried Semper for the latter, although they are very abstract, and go on to show the children about other characteristics of style.

You will need to treat trigonometry and analytical geometry as broadly as possible. In descriptive geometry, the children should understand and be able to draw the intersection of a cone and a cylinder.

In physics—this is something I was able to thoroughly try out in my teaching—it is very good for children at this age when you present them with the newest discoveries in physics, for instance, wireless telegraphy and x-rays, including such things as alpha, beta, and gamma rays. These are things you can use to awaken further interest in the children.

There is a question about atomism.

Dr. Steiner: A number of friends have conveyed that feeling to me. You certainly cannot deny that what you yourself are working upon will color your teaching. I believe that you will find the proper nuances if you present this material somewhat historically. I also believe that it would be good to begin the story where all the polemics about structural formulas, both pro and con, begin. Atomism was something different prior to Van’t Hoff ’s chemical symbols. I believe that you need to work through all Kolbe’s polemic against symbolic chemistry, since this polemicizing has, in a sense, placed the entire problem on developments in chemistry. You can show this precisely. You have all said a great deal against atomism, but you have not been able to say as much against it as Kolbe. You can put all this into perspective only when you include the most modern aspects. You need to include the phenomenalism introduced in the work of Pelikan and Kolisko. You would make no impression if you simply mentioned Kolbe’s name. Kolbe said that in order to continue in chemistry, Van’t Hoff mounted the Pegasus he apparently borrowed from the veterinary institute in Berlin. You need to include that.

When you discuss what I just mentioned above, you do not even need to speak about atomism. It is particularly unnecessary when discussing this subject. On the other hand, you could also speak a great deal about alchemy. There you have the opportunity to present far-reaching observations that you may not, however, clothe in vague mysticism. With Marconi’s telegraphy, you can address the connection of the brain with the cosmos through a simple, but exact and broad, presentation of the coherer and then describe the brain as a kind of coherer in connection with the cosmos. In this case, you can illustrate something that occurs materially and then go on to point out that the processes within the brain are only initiated by the physical human being. Here, you have a possibility of awakening a broader perspective.

In chemistry, it is necessary to develop basic chemical concepts such as acid, salt, and base as completely as possible, so that the students then know what an alcohol or an aldehyde is. The more traditional topics, such as separating organic and inorganic chemistry require less attention. I believe that is what we should include in a survey of the material. I do not believe it is correct to develop chemistry on the basis of material. It is better to develop the process and then bring in matter and metals so that during the instruction a feeling arises that matter is simply a static process. The children should have a picture of matter as simply a static process. If you have a piece of sulfur in front of you, what you really have is a static process. If I am standing here, and it is raining hard, then I have a process in which I am included. However, if I look at the cloud from a distance, it appears as an object to me. When I look at certain processes it is as though I were standing in the rain, when I look at sulfur, it is as though I were observing the cloud from a distance. Matter is simply processes that appear petrified.

It is important at this period of life to teach about cells in natural history. That need not be done in such great detail, but you could take characteristic plants from the lowest up to the monocots. Begin at the lowest and go upward. You should also mention the dicots and draw parallels between flowers and mushrooms. Be sure to take into account the mycelium and the formation of spores. When you discuss the formation of stems, you should take the mycelium into account, also. Bring teleology, that is, the relationships of the various parts of a organism, into a reasonable relationship. Be sure to discuss interactive relationships, not just the purely causal. Treat the theory of cells in a cosmological manner.

A teacher asks about zoology.

Dr. Steiner: Zoology? Certainly not in this year. I do not believe it would be good to do too much mineralogy. That is something we can do next year.

Today, the same thing happened. It was quite natural to work toward the human being. I know of no question in natural history that you cannot use as a basis for moving toward the human being.

A teacher: We have done several practical exercises in surveying.

Dr. Steiner: Altitude and distance. I would also like you to create a connection between surveying and geography, so that the children have an exact idea of what a Mercator map is. You should also discuss how the meter was determined in Paris.

In regard to technology, cover waterwheels, turbines, and production of paper. I have to admit I cannot believe you could not get all the boys to participate. You cannot allow opposition to arise.

A teacher: Should we teach spinning and weaving in the technology class?

Dr. Steiner: In principle, the children can already do that. It would be a good idea to introduce them to water turbines and the production of paper. We can return to weaving later. I once mentioned that this is something they need to learn slowly. The children will have a great deal if we can explain to them about the production of paper and how waterwheels and turbines work. They will gain a broader view. They can learn something about geography and the importance of rivers. You could even move into an elementary discussion of economics.

A teacher: In mechanical drawing, I was supposed to take children through screws.

Dr. Steiner: We can leave that for now and come back to it later. In the tenth grade, you should do things as I said.

We also, of course, need to be careful to include a formation of taste in eurythmy and music classes, particularly at this age. This can be done by interweaving things with a judgment of taste. You do not need to begin much new in the way of content, but go on to taste considerations.

We want to have Graf Bothmer for gymnastics. He will certainly do well here. The entire faculty needs to work together in this area. In other things, a sense of taste needs to be brought in.

It would be good if there were a certain amount of harmony in eurythmy. You need to take style into consideration in particular works. If they are studied at the same time in eurythmy, it would be helpful to connect the eurythmy exercises with the style of the poems. You will find that one or another poem is particularly appropriate, and then you will find that there are nuances of style in them. The art teachers can use a poem to illustrate a sonnet. You will find that I took the sonnets from Shakespeare and Hebbel into account in the eurythmy forms. The form is often quite different because it directly relates to the style. The teacher of aesthetics also needs to take that into account.

Marie Steiner: I would recommend Dr. Steiner’s Twelve Moods.

Dr. Steiner: The Twelve Moods were once tested in connection with astrology. They are cosmically connected. That is something you can use both in the teaching of style and in eurythmy. Nearly every syllable is stylized in the tone. You can find an inner stylizing everywhere. These are objective style formations. You can also compose them. The children could learn a great deal if you read them quite objectively. They could be made into a festival for older children.

We now need to turn to the needs of the various classes and teachers.

It is important that you carry on a kind of dialogue when teaching foreign languages. On numerous occasions, Dr. X. told the little children in first grade that he did not understand any German. You could make a connection with that and weave your readings into it. Don’t simply talk to the children, but allow them to speak as much as possible. It was apparent this morning that the children cannot yet do that; you need to be sure to allow the children to speak. They need to have an opportunity to tell about what they have read. This is particularly true in the upper grades where the foreign languages are still behind. The lower classes are much better in languages and it is easier there. The problems in language lie in the upper grades.

Origines de la France Contemporaine is a good book.

A teacher: Could I perhaps do Expansion of England following Shakespeare?

Dr. Steiner: It is important that you bring the children along. The first-grade class enjoyed it a lot.

We have developed the most important principles into a connected whole. Those things that occur in a haphazard fashion are simply due to sloppiness. Sloppiness has entered our work in that we have moved in the direction of doing things more easily. It is important that we take into account that when the children speak in chorus, although it goes well, that is no proof that they can do it individually, since the group spirit also participates. We need to work both ways. Always keep connected to the material so that your words are directly connected with the subject. When we spoke, I noticed that it is good to connect the learning of poems with certain figures of speech in order to make them conventions. If you have done three or four such poems, then you can return to improve the accent. We have already discussed all of these things. The way you are teaching poems now has led to a kind of sloppiness. That is partially because the foreign languages are taking a back seat. They are in a secondary position and the teachers are tired. The other problem is that many seek to avoid proper preparation. You prepare for other things. That is fine if all you want is something mechanical.

I certainly have reason to complain about things. It is not possible for you to prepare in the way you should. We first need to develop what can be fruitful in our methodology, otherwise we would slowly come to teach language such that what we fail to achieve by a better method is much worse than what we could partially achieve by a lesser method. We could easily slip into the calamity that because we do what is better poorly, we cannot keep up with what other schools achieve. In spite of that, I want to be perfectly clear that it is possible within the normal school day to achieve the ideal through rational work so that the children are spared tiring homework. Unfortunately, that is not of interest everywhere. In practice, certain things are still missing, and for that reason, I believe we must initiate a kind of modified homework. We do not want the children doing pages of arithmetic at home. However, we can give them literature and art history problems to solve at home. We should also encourage those who are more industrious and want to do something at home, but we should be clear that we do not want to overburden them. They should not feel they are groaning under the weight of their homework. They need to do it happily, in which case assigning them a task has a genuinely good influence. For instance, you could have them create an equation in the form of a short story, “A lady is asked.…”

There is another thing I find lacking in the teaching, but certainly belongs there, and that is humor. I have taken particular note that humor is missing in the classroom. I do not mean making jokes, but genuine humor. Just as human beings must physically breath, you cannot expect the children to always be taking things in. They must also be able to breathe them out. If you always teach for the whole period in the same tone, it is as though you were to allow the children only to inhale, never to exhale. You must have humor. Humor is the soul’s exhaling. You must bring humor into your teaching. That is something you can find in the most various places. Humor comes from liveliness. You need to bring some liveliness into the class, the children need that in every grade. A little humor! If we only had one period a day, that would be different, but you must bring humor into the classroom.

You misunderstood me in connection with handwork. I had thought you would work things out between yourselves. The women would then have twenty-six hours. Tomorrow, please give me the number of hours per week that each of you can take on. Twenty-six is, of course, too much. We need to see how we can get some more help. Please give me a list of the total number of hours. You can put the tenth- and eleventh-grade classes together.

We must have the remedial class, and you are responsible for teaching it. The tall fellow needs to go into the first grade. That is something we cannot do, of course, but to be consequential, we would have to send one from the eleventh grade back to the first grade.

Concerning religion class in the eleventh grade, continue with the material so that you strengthen the capacity to judge. Become involved in discussions. Until now, you have given a pictorial presentation, but now we need to work toward comprehension of the concepts. You should treat the question of destiny in a religious form. Also the question of sins, and then the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. You can begin with pictures and then move into concepts, so that it is a kind of causal perspective.

What did we decide about religion in the eighth and ninth grades?

A teacher: We began with a treatment of the Laocoöns.

Dr. Steiner: It is not necessary to go through everything. I assume you have gone through parts of the St. John gospel. If you do not spend considerable time with it, it is terribly difficult to go through the story of creation, but it is not necessary to do other parts of the Old Testament. I think it would be good if the children knew the New Testament, particularly the stories of the apostles. In particular, the St. Luke gospel.

Concerning Greek and Latin in the eleventh grade: In discussing the readings with the children, we must see to it that they gain an understanding of the mixture of style and grammar, in particular, a comparison of the Greek and Latin sentence structure. You should do that before presenting literary history. You should also develop an entomological understanding of words. You need to emphasize entomology much more in the ancient languages. You should emphasize entomology much more. The first book of Livius is enough. In Greek, you can do readings of your choice.

They discuss the report on O.R. and in particular that he needs to learn something from life.

Dr. Steiner: He is just like his father, but not at all so thoughtless. I have the feeling with Mr. S. that he is really lazy. I would like to have a characterization of his work. I have not seen his drawings. You need to give a concrete picture. The obvious result of Dr. N.’s report would be to gain a “Doctor Life” for the school. Then people could say they should call up “Doctor Life” in order to get to the heart of the matter. I think we should keep him here another year and see what he learns.

There were some errors made in the preparation of the students reports.

Dr. Steiner: That is a deficiency in the seriousness with which the reports were treated. That is terribly sloppy, and something that you must treat seriously. The tendency to make excuses for it only makes things worse. This is really terrible. When such things occur, we are not really working in the Waldorf School. We have no right to speak about reports when we present ourselves to the world in such a sloppy manner. This is really unbelievable. We are slowly creating a situation that no one can take seriously. A report, that is a document! When you make such mistakes in writing, well, I would like to know which company would employ us then. Such things must be based upon a strict and rather mechanical process so that errors are not possible. It should be like clockwork. Such errors should not occur.

I want to end this discussion now. I think it is unbelievable when such documents are created with such an attitude, we cannot discuss that.

Dear ladies and gentlemen.

I do not wish to use these words as a preface to explain what we will attempt to present to you today in a rehearsal as the art of eurythmy; for an art that needs explaining would obviously not be an art at all. Art must work through direct impression and must also be understandable through direct impression. However, this is precisely what will be the case to a high degree with our eurythmic art, as I am convinced. This eurythmic art must not be confused with any of the seemingly related arts. It is not a dance art or something similar; it wants to be a completely new art form. And for this very reason, I would like to send these few words ahead as usual today during our performances.

[Eurythmy is] an art form that initially uses the human being as its means of expression and draws from very special sources. Like everything that is to come through the spiritual movement, of which this structure seeks to be a representative, the eurythmic art also arises from Goethe's view of art and, in particular, from his artistic ethos. You will see, ladies and gentlemen, all kinds of movements of the human organism itself, namely movements of the limbs of the human organism. But you will also see movements that the personalities, which are arranged in groups, perform against and with each other. All these movements, which in their totality should represent a kind of silent language, are acquired in a very special way, and I can perhaps only describe the nature, the laws by which this art is acquired, by pointing out that the basic impulse behind this eurythmic art is rooted in the endeavors of the most ambitious artistic elements of the present.

Anyone who familiarizes themselves a little with what is alive in every artistic endeavor today – which, incidentally, has been evident for decades – will have to say to themselves: Everywhere, one can see the conviction that it is no longer possible to continue in the old artistic ways in any field of art, that it is necessary everywhere to reach for new means of artistic expression, and that it is also necessary to seek the sources that represent the artistic in a new form. It was realized decades ago that painting, for example, could not continue in the old ways, even if they are Raphael's or Michelangelo's art. And why was that realized? Certainly, what emerged from Raphael, Michelangelo or any other epigone's time and was executed with their artistic means was something extraordinarily magnificent and powerful. But when any artistic direction, any artistic trend within human development lasts for a while, then the means of expression are somewhat depleted. Then, especially in artistic natures, the need arises for new means of expression. For the means of expression themselves are, after some time, thoroughly absorbed into the human world of thought, into the world of ideas.

Take painting, for example. The way certain painters painted in the 19th century, the use of colors, the way they handled the brush, and so on, was all embedded in ideas. They had the notion, the feeling that one had to paint in a certain way. All of that had already become conceptualized, intellectualized. Now, the conceptual is actually the death of any real art. One can say: the more thought, which always nuances something abstract, has penetrated the earthly into the artistic, the more unartistic there is in art. The artistic must be sought entirely by circumventing thought, by circumventing all abstract ideas and abstract notions. That is why, for example, in painting, the idea arose of capturing the immediate impression, as it was called, through color and form.

But now art has another requirement. If you want to express something through artistic means, it must be rounded off into a picture. Certainly, much that is extraordinarily meaningful has been achieved in so-called plein-air painting, in Impressionist painting. But on the other hand, it has been shown that when man places himself in such a way in relation to nature, as has been attempted there, nature does not ultimately surrender to the image. Namely, one has tried to capture the momentary impression, as one just said, the momentary vision, what the light flooding over the objects, the or the calm air, to capture that as an immediate impression, I would like to say to capture it so quickly that one does not have time to think about the matter, so that nothing of the thought flows into the artistic reproduction. - The difficulty arose, however, that the means of artistic expression, when one excludes the thought in this way, nevertheless fail. You can't get to grips with color and form so that color and form really come together to form a picture. And so Impressionism actually failed to achieve what it set out to achieve.

On the other hand, people have now tried to convey the immediate human inner experience, what one might call the inner human experience. Because I don't want to fall into false, fantastic mysticism, I don't want to say what a person experiences in a visionary way, but what a person always experiences emotionally, without processing it to the point of abstract clarity of thought. Something that can be called an expression has been tried to be rendered in color and form.

This has led to things that are extremely interesting for those who look at the matter artistically. For those who look at it in an amateurish or dilettantish way, or look at it according to the usual recipe with which unartistic natures often look at the artistic, by saying: What does this depict? What is the meaning of this? — which is the most unartistic way of looking at it —, in such people the feeling arose that with such newer attempts nothing was achieved, except that someone, let's say, wants to express an inner liberating, redeeming feeling through the medium of painting. And what he then brings onto the canvas, well, let's say it's somehow a rigged ship or it's pieces of laundry hung on ropes or something like that. As I said, the one who does not look at these things in the right light just asks: What does it mean? He does not let himself be carried by what is there into the inner experience. And so far, experience has shown that even the means of artistic expression, the treatment of colors in painting, for example, are not enough to immediately round off the inner experience into a picture, to present it as a picture.

You have to have felt all this at some point, this struggle for new artistic means and, above all, this struggle for access to the sources of art, for such access that represents something new in contrast to the old, well-trodden paths. Then you come to perhaps trying what we have tried here in the building, for example: to get out of the forms themselves and also out of the colors - without reproducing, without the idea of a model - what the picture should be. But I do believe that a kind of example, just one example of the use of particular artistic means, can achieve something that can express something that can possibly be expressed, and that this can be achieved through eurythmy, through this silent language that has emerged in the following way.

I may use Goethe's expression: sensual-transcendental vision. Those who are able to apply this sensual-transcendental vision can study the movement tendencies of the larynx and its neighboring organs - that is, a single organ system of the human organism - when hearing ordinary spoken language or singing. And then, just as Goethe sees only a complex leaf in the whole plant, one can see in the whole human being something that is only a metamorphosis, a metamorphosed larynx organ. Only one must not look at these things abstractly, ideationally, but one must permeate them with artistic feeling.

Then the following possibility emerges: in the tonal language we always have the confluence of thought with human will. Anyone who is familiar with these things knows that from one side, from the whole human being, the whole human being, human will, flows into the sound language, especially when it is artistically shaped by poetry; but that from the larynx, on the waves, I would say, of the will, thoughts flow, swim. In all our civilized languages, thoughts themselves have now taken on a rather conventional character and show in their nature that they are actually only there to enable people to communicate with each other in their prosaic lives by forming words. That is why everything that flows into poetry from the realm of thought must be felt as something unartistic by an artistic nature. And the question arises: how can one detach the pure element of will, which otherwise only permeates poetry in meter, rhythm, melodic form, and plastic pictorial form, how can one actually capture that?

The following comes to our aid: the larynx and its neighboring organs, with their various cartilaginous and so on organs, are directly related, in direct proportion to the external air. As a result, the disposition to move is transformed into the small trembling movements that then pass into the air, which we do not see with ordinary looking, but which underlie what is heard of speech. The movement patterns that become active in the larynx and its neighboring organs can be observed with sensory-supersensory vision. And then, if I may use this paradoxical expression, one can see the whole human being as a transformed, metamorphosed larynx. So that the people who will be performing eurythmy for you here on the stage will actually be performing for you as whole human beings, like larynxes. But if you then let the other human limbs carry out the movement patterns that are otherwise found in the larynx and its neighboring organs, the result is not the same as what comes out of the sound language. Then, you do not have the outer air as resistance, but rather the muscular system to begin with. As a result, the tendencies and dispositions of the movements do not transform into the vibratory movements of sound, but these movements are slowed down. The muscles offer the appropriate resistance, and one arrives at something that looks like a sign language, but which, in the way it is formed, is not a sign language.

If one were to base it on facial expressions or pantomime, then only prosaic elements would actually be possible; nothing truly artistic would be able to be expressed through this eurythmy. But that is not what we are aiming for. All that is mere pantomime is excluded here. Everything is based on an inner law, just as the melodic element in music is based on an inner law of succession in time. It is music in motion, music that expresses itself in movements instead of sounds. So that if one had two different presentations in two different places and the same thing were to be presented eurythmically, there would be no arbitrariness in it, but just as much difference in the individual presentation as one and the same sonata could be played individually differently in two different places.

Therefore, you must also accept what we can really only offer as a beginning with a certain amount of forbearance. Those who have seen our performances more often, perhaps months ago, will be able to see today what we can offer today and will be able to tell themselves how we have striven to make some progress in the last few months. So we are only just beginning with this eurythmic art. And at this beginning you will have to take into account that everywhere, when we try – namely where the form that we are now introducing into eurythmy already exists, where these forms have been tackled – you will see that everywhere the thinking element is excluded and the forms are felt directly. And not in the way they are felt as forms of gestures, but as they are felt as forms of expression for the inner rhythm, for the musical and plastic quality of the poetry itself.

As I said, I do not want to present this eurythmy as an art that can now shed light on all other arts, on painting and the like, but only as an example of where perhaps what is attempted in spiritual artistic endeavors can be achieved most fully. For with this eurythmy one can really shape an inner experience, an inner experience that one shapes according to the poetry - just as music, for example, also appears on the one hand as a companion to eurythmy - but this inner experience is directly transformed into movements of the human organism itself.

So there is an immediate movement of the element, which is first taken from the poem, and this is transformed into inner human movements that round into a picture. Such movements can then be taken as impressions when one cannot manage in natural treatment with the usual means of expression to round into a picture artistically in the immediate impression. When one rounds into the image that which comes to light as an inner experience, at the same time transformed into inner meaning, an expression that is experienced but that works directly through impression, that is what is directly sought through this eurythmy, what has been attempted today and which, of course, as I very much understand, will still be subject to numerous misunderstandings. But that cannot be helped when we present such an attempt as we have made in our eurythmy performance. While we see what we present on the stage as a silent language accompanied by music, we see what is presented accompanied by recitation and declamation.

Especially in relation to eurythmy, the art of recitation and declamation must take on a special position. It must be remembered again and again that what is considered the art of recitation and declamation today does not really stand up to the accompanying recitation of eurythmy. Today, the emphasis is actually placed on the literal content in recitation, but this is inartistic. It is artistic to try to bring to the fore the rhythmic, formative, plastic aspects of language that go beyond the literal content, even in the art of recitation. This is also an attempt to return to the old form of recitation. I would just like to remind you that Schiller, when he allowed his most significant poems to emerge from his soul, did not have the literal content at first. That was not important to him at first; instead, he had the melodious form first, to which he then added the words. Or Goethe, for example, studied his “Iphigenia” with his actors with a baton in his hand. One had a feeling that the underlying rhythmic, melodious element or the plastic-pictorial element was the main thing, as if it were a revelation when the poetic forms were presented.

You will now see that what is already conceived poetically, even if it is still imperfect, will appear here in a very imperfect presentation of what is taken from my 'Mysteriendramen', where the spiritual inner powers of the human being appear. [That this can already be presented quite well: On the one hand, those forces through which the human being wants to go beyond himself, the mystical, the fantastic, the enthusiastic, the theosophical, whereby he ceases to be human, where he would like to be an angel, which on the one hand means an urge beyond the human – when this is contrasted on the other hand with the earlier spiritism /?, the materialism. [You will see:] When contrasted with the already eurythmic thinking, and then, as a matter of course, it can be enclosed in a form that can be quite well represented. I have now succeeded in making the attempt.

One will have to admit that one can only grasp nature through imaginative images. Those who strive for the manifestation, the revelation of the deeper laws, the workings of nature, strive beyond the abstract to the imaginative shaping of the active imaginative forces present in nature and in the world, especially those forces in which human feeling is involved. I have attempted this in the scene in my “mystery dramas” where the soul forces appear – not as personifications, but as real people, but in such a way that the sensual-supersensible element is expressed directly in them. Here, too, nothing is symbolized, but rather, an attempt has been made to penetrate directly into the living.

Eurythmy is particularly suitable for that which underlies the living activity of all nature in the world. For the eurythmic art has the peculiarity that it can bring to view that which painting seeks when it wants to bring inner soul experiences to view, but for which there is still no means of expression today. I am not saying that this element cannot be found, but that it can be expressed well today by making the human being himself, with his movements and the whole structure of his organism, into a living larynx. In the silent language of the art of eurythmy, this is shown by the fact that the human being appears in their ensouled element, so that the sensory is also supersensory: the human being represents the sensory, but at the same time also the supersensory.

But it is not the case that we feel a dichotomy between content and form; because it is by investing it with inspiration that this inspiration is elevated, as is audibly expressed in the movements of the human being, which otherwise would be vocalized in speech. So one can say: Not something unnatural is evoked, but precisely what Goethe calls it: that one seeks out the higher in nature.

On the other hand, we will bring you children's performances after the break. Of course, it is not intended to polemicize [against ordinary gymnastics]; it has its significance for the physical body, but what comes into consideration is that this gymnastics is based solely on the physiological knowledge of the human organism and takes it into account, so that a certain strength is indeed , and a certain physical health is cultivated, but that the will can come out of the human being only if it is educated in such a way that not only the physiological but also the psychological movement is assessed in order to arrive at that which is soulful movement. Therefore, our pedagogy at the Stuttgart Waldorf School had to be supplemented by this soul-filled art for children, in addition to mere physical gymnastics. And we can already see that this soul-filled gymnastics, this soul-filled eurythmy, when applied to children's lives, because it is a soul-filled application of the body, also brings forth the initiative of the will. So that the body is not cultivated through gymnastics, but not the initiative of the will – this is only an illusion if you believe that. Through this soul-filled art, the art of education is truly greatly benefitted, and more and more can be shown.

It is true that we are only at the beginning of our eurythmy today. Those of our honored visitors who have been here often will be able to see for themselves that we have made good progress in recent weeks, particularly in the development of sentence structure, which is expressed here in terms of form - the artistic structure, rhythm, rhyme and so on, in the whole inner formation of the verses. We will make every effort to progress from month to month. But it is still in its early days. And so I ask you to bear with us as we present a sample of the eurythmic art today.

Nevertheless, we are convinced that what is emerging here as a sensory-supersensory art form is capable of a perfection that will come, either through us or, more likely, through others. And then this eurythmic art will present itself to the world as something that is truly artistic on the one hand, and has a very strong educational value on the other. And people will recognize that eurythmy has a certain task and will be able to stand alongside the other recognized sister arts and older arts as a worthy, fully-fledged art. — So I ask you, esteemed attendees, to take these few samples of eurythmic art today with indulgence.

If I attempt today to make the transition from the actual philosophical field to the field of the specialized sciences, then in our present epoch this transition is to be accomplished quite naturally through a consideration of the mathematical and physical, chemical, that is, the inorganic natural world , because by far the majority of present-day philosophical conceptions are constructed in such a way that philosophers base them on concepts and ideas gained from the field of science that is considered the most secure today, namely from mathematics and inorganic natural science.

If we wish to discuss the mathematical treatment of inorganic natural science, which is so popular today, we must always remember something that has already been mentioned in the opening speech: the connection that current thinking believes it can make with Kant, precisely with the introduction of mathematics into inorganic natural science, indeed into science in general.

What must be emphasized in this and also in a later context from the negative side, I say expressly from the negative side, has already been noticed by individual thinkers who are very far removed from the use of supersensible knowledge. Thus, the negative, that is, the rejection of the purely mathematical treatment of natural science, can be found, for example, in a thinker like Fritz Mauthner, who, out of a certain acumen in a negative sense, that is, in rejecting what appears as false claims of a false science, is not at all unhappy. And with regard to the question: What can current science not do? – we can learn a lot from a thinker like Fritz Mauthner, learning through the negative that he presents, and learning through the fact that he does not want to stop at this negative, but would like to advance to a positive realization.

Why shouldn't you also learn from such a negative thinker? If I was able to quote Ludwig Haller as saying yesterday that, in his opinion, Kant took the weapons from the arsenal of light to use them in the service of darkness, why should you not also borrow the weapons from the arsenal of darkness, even the deliberate darkness of knowledge as found in Fritz Mauthner, to use them in the service of light?

Attention is to be paid, as I said, to Kant's saying that there is only as much actual science in each individual discipline as there is mathematics in it.

If you study the history of the use of this Kantian saying up to the present day, you get an interesting example to answer the question of how to be a Kantian at all in modern times. For the people who refer to this saying believe that as much real science as there is mathematics in it is brought into every single science. But Kant means something quite different. Kant means: as much as he brings mathematics into science, that much is mathematics, that is, real science, and the rest is not science at all in the individual sciences.

You see, you become a Kantian if you thoroughly misunderstand a Kantian saying. For the Kantian approach in this area has something like the following logic: if I say, in a gathering in which there are a thousand people, there is as much genius in it as three ingenious people have contributed, I certainly do not mean that the thousand people have now been given the genius of the three people. Nor does Kant mean that the rest of science has acquired the scientific character of mathematics; rather, he means that only the small part that has remained mathematics even in the sciences is real science, but the rest is not science at all.

We must study such things seriously – and in an empirical age we must do so empirically, not a priori – so that such questions are not answered as they often are today, but so that we may come upon the truth.

Now, however, one can point out something else: the most outstanding mathematical thinkers of modern times define mathematics something like this: it would be the “science of sizes”. Well, today it is the science of sizes. But go back just a few centuries to the time when Cartesius and Spinoza found great satisfaction in presenting their philosophy “according to a mathematical method,” as they say, and you will find that what Cartesius and Spinoza wanted to bring into their philosophy as a mathematical method is quite different from what is to be brought into natural science as mathematics in more recent times.

If we go back to Descartes and Spinoza, we find that these two philosophers want to construct their philosophical system in such a way that there is just as much certainty in the transition from one proposition to another as there is in mathematics. That is to say, they want to build their philosophy according to the pattern of these mathematical methods; but not by introducing into their philosophy what is understood by mathematics today. So, by going back to Descartes and Spinoza, we have already associated a completely different meaning with the word mathematics. If we disregard the aspect that merely refers to quantities, we have associated the sense of the inner, secure transition from judgment to judgment, from conclusion to conclusion. We have considered the nature of mathematical thinking, not what we can call a science of quantities.

And let us go back even further. In ancient times, the word “mathematics” had a completely different meaning altogether. Then it was identical with the word science. This means that when one meant 'science', one spoke of 'mathesis' or 'mathematics', because in mathematization one found the certainty of an inner insight into a 'fact' present in consciousness. One associated the sense of 'knowledge' and 'science' with this word. And so a much more general concept has been transferred to the narrow field of the theory of quantities. Today we have every reason to remember such things, because we are faced with the necessity of looking again at what actually lies at the basis of mathematical thinking. What is the essential feature of mathematical thinking? The essential feature of mathematical thinking is precisely the transparency of the mathematical content of consciousness. If I draw a triangle and consider its three angles, alpha, beta, and gamma, and want to prove that the sum of these three angles is 180 degrees, then I do the following (see figure r): I draw a parallel to the base line through the uppermost point of the triangle, look at the ratio of the angles alpha and gamma to the alternate angles that arise at the parallel, and then, by observing how the three angles that arise at the parallel – gamma', alpha', and beta – are positioned in relation to one another and how they form an angle of 180 degrees, I have the proof that the three angles of the triangle are also 180 degrees. That is to say, what is present in the mathematical as a conscious fact right up to the lines of reasoning is manageable and accompanied by inner experience from beginning to end. And this is the basis of the certainty one feels in mathematical thinking: that everything that is present as a conscious fact is accompanied by inner experience right up to the judgment and the proof.

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And when we then look at the external world, whose material foundations cannot be penetrated with such clarity, we still feel satisfied when observing external nature if we can at least follow its phenomena in the experience that first met us in clarity.

The certainty that one feels in this clarity of consciousness in mathematics becomes particularly apparent when one looks at what is universally recognized as a major advance in mathematics in the 19th century century: what emerged as “non-Euclidean geometry”, as “metageometry” in Lobatschewskij, Bolyai, Legendre and so on.

There we see how, based on the inner certainty of intuition, the Euclidean axioms are first modified and, by modifying the Euclidean axioms, possible other geometries than the Euclidean one are constructed, and how one then tries to cope with an inscrutable reality using what has been constructed as an extension of intuitiveness. All the ideas that have entered modern thought through this “meta-geometry” are basically factual proof of the certainty that one feels in the comprehensibility of mathematization.

And with regard to Euclidean space – for the spaces of the other geometries are simply other spaces – which is characterized by the fact that three coordinate axes perpendicular to one another have to be imagined , that what has been presented here as proof of the 180-degree nature of the three angles of a triangle applies to this Euclidean space. And everyone will realize that if the Euclidean axioms are modified, this may have a bearing on our space, in which we are – which is then precisely not Euclidean space, but perhaps an internally curved space – but that for Euclidean space, which can be comprehended, the Euclidean results must be assumed to be certain because of their comprehensibility. No one will doubt that.

And just when you see through these facts, then you will find: the application of mathematics to the field of natural science is based on the fact that one finds in the external world that which is first found internally, that, so to speak, the facts of the external world behave in such a way as corresponds to the mathematical results that we first found independently of this external world in inner contemplation.

But one thing is absolutely certain: I would say, the precondition for this inner vision of the mathematical is that this mathematical first appears to us as an image. The inner free activity of constructing, which we experience in mathematizing, is such an inner free activity only because nothing of what otherwise prevails within our human beingness, when, for example, we want or the like, following an instinct. From this, what arises as a stock of consciousness in the process of mathematization is, as it were, elevated to the point of becoming pictorial. In relation to what is “external natural reality”, the mathematical is unreality. And we feel the satisfaction in the application of the mathematical to the knowledge of nature precisely because we can recognize what we have freely grasped in pictorial form in the realm of being.

But precisely for this reason it must be admitted that on the one hand it is justified when such minds, which do not merely want to go to what natural reality as such shows in human observation as real, but want to go to the full, total reality, like Goethe, when such spirits — as Goethe particularly showed in his treatment of the “Theory of Colors” — do not want a total application of the mathematical to all of external reality. Goethe's rejection of mathematics arose precisely from the realization that, although what corresponds to the pictorial vividness of the mathematical can be found in external nature through mathematics, at the same time one thereby renounces everything qualitative. Goethe did not want to treat only the quantitative in external nature; he also wanted to include the qualitative.

On the other hand, however, it must be said that the whole inner greatness of mathematics is based on its pictorial nature, and that it is precisely in this pictorial nature that we must seek what gives it the character of an a priori science, a science that can be found purely through inner contemplation.

But at the same time, by mathematizing, one is actually outside of nature, in contrast to which mathematics is of particular interest. Nowhere does one grasp something that is effective in itself, but only the relationships of this effectiveness that can be expressed by mathematical formulas. When you calculate a future lunar eclipse in mathematical formulas, or, by inserting the corresponding variables in negative form, a lunar eclipse that has passed in the past, you must be aware that you never penetrate into the inner essence of what is happening, but only grasp the quantum of relationships with mathematical formulas from a certain point of view. That is to say, one must realize that one can never penetrate into the inner essential differentiation through mathematics if one understands mathematics in the narrow sense in which it is still often understood today.

But even within mathematics we can already see a kind of path that leads out of mathematics itself. From what I have just said, you can see that this path, which leads out of the mathematical, should be similar to the path we take when we submerge into nature, which has been thoroughly penetrated and is penetrating, with the purely pictorially mathematical, with the unpenetrated, ineffectively pictorially mathematical. There we submerge into something that, in a sense, intercepts us with our free mathematizing activity and constricts mathematical formulas into an event that is effective in itself, that is in itself something to which we have to say: we cannot fully grasp it with mathematics; in the face of the inner transparency of mathematics, this thing asserts its essential independence and its essential interiority.

This path, which is taken when one simply seeks the transition from the unreal mathematical way of thinking to the real scientific way of thinking, can in a certain way already be found today within the mathematical itself in a certain relation. And we see how it can be found if we look not outwardly but inwardly at the attempts that thinking has made in the transition from mere analytical geometry to projective or synthetic geometry, as presented by more recent science. I would like to explain what I mean by the sentence I have just uttered using a very elementary, an extremely elementary and well-known example of synthetic geometry.

When you do synthetic, newer projective geometry, you differ from the analytical geometer in that the analytical geometer works with mathematical formulas, that is, he calculates, counts, and so on. The synthetic geometer uses only the straightedge and the compass, and that which can arise in consciousness through the straightedge and the compass as a fact, which first emerges from intuition. But let us ask ourselves whether it also remains purely within intuition.

Let us imagine a line – what is called a line in ordinary geometry – and on this line three points. Then we have the following mathematical structure (see Figure 2): a line on which the three points I, II, III are located.

Now, there is – I can, of course, only hint at what I have to present here in the main lines, so to speak appealing to what you already know about the matter – there is another figure which, in a certain way, in its entire configuration, corresponds to the mathematical figure just drawn. And this other figure is created by treating three lines in a similar way to the way I have treated these three points here, and by treating a point in a similar way to the way I have treated the line here. So imagine that instead of the three points ], II, III, I draw three lines on the board, and instead of the line that goes through the three points, I draw a point (see Figure 3); and to create a correspondence, I take the point where the three lines intersect: I have drawn another figure here (Fig. 3). The point that I have drawn above with a small ringlet corresponds to the line on the left, the three, as they are called, rays that intersect at one point, and which I denote by I, II, III, correspond to the three points I, II, III, that lie on the line on the left (Fig. 2).

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If you want to feel the full weight of this ruling, you have to take the exact wording as I have just pronounced it. You have to say: the point on the right (Figure 3), which I have marked with a small ring above, corresponds to the line on the left (Figure 2) on which the three points lie; and the rays I, II, III on the right correspond to the points I, II, III on the left. And in that the three rays I, II, III on the right intersect at the one point above, this intersection corresponds to the position of the three points I, II, III on the left on the straight line drawn on the left.

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Thus stated, there is a very specific cognitive fact and a corresponding structure on the left opposite the structure on the right.

One can now – by remaining purely within the realm of the visual, that is, what can be constructed with compass and straightedge, without the need for calculation – proceed to the following state of consciousness: I draw a line again on the left, and again three points on this line (the lower line in Figure 4).

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I have now – I ask you to please consider the way I express myself, which I will follow, as decisive for the facts – I have now drawn the line on the left, on which the three points i, 2, 3 are located. I will proceed and assume – please note the word I pronounce: “and assume” – I will proceed and then assume the following. I will connect the points to the left of one line with the points on the other line in a certain way and will thus obtain connecting lines that will intersect (see Figure 5). I will connect the point I with the point 3, the point III with the point i, the point I with the point 2, the point II with the point 1, the point III with the point 2, the point II with the point 3, and will get intersection points by these lines, which I can then again - I now assume - connect by a straight line. So my construction is carried out in such a clear and transparent way that I can actually do what I have just described. You can actually carry out this construction as follows (dotted line in Figure 5): You see, I have the three points of intersection, which I got in the way I described earlier, so that I can draw the dashed-dotted straight line through them.

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I now assume that by adding another to the right-hand bundle of rays (Figure 3), as it is called, I have the same ratio in the ratio of the radiation as in the distance of the points lying on the left straight line. I shall therefore draw a second bundle of rays on the right (Figure 6), which, in relation to its radiating conditions, corresponds to the positional conditions of the points on the lines on the left. So I have drawn in another bundle of rays here (Figure 6) and call it I, 2, 3, assuming that i, 2, 3 corresponds to i, 2, 3 in relation to the points on the left.

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And now I will perform the corresponding procedure on my two ray structures on the right, which I performed on my line and point structures on the left (Figure 5), only I have to take into account that a line on the left corresponds to a point on the right: while on the left I looked for a line connecting two points, on the right I have to look for a point that arises when two rays intersect. The intersection on the right should correspond to the connection on the left (the points of intersection in Figure 6 are marked by small circles, see Figure 7). You can see what I have done: if I connected III with i and 3 with I as points on the left, I brought I with 3 and i with III as lines to the intersection here on the right.

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And if I have drawn two lines from the points on the left and brought them to the intersection at one point, I will now draw a line through the two points that I have obtained on the right (dotted line in Figure 7), and I will now carry out the same procedure with respect to the other rays. That is [the lecturer once again illustrates the correspondence between the circled intersections of Figure 7 and the connecting lines of Figure 5], I will bring II into intersection with i, I with 2, III with 2, II with 3; I will therefore look for the points of intersection on the right as I looked for the connecting lines on the left; and, as you see, I have sought these points of intersection on the right by bringing the rays to the intersection in order to draw lines through these points of intersection (dashed lines in Figure 7), just as I sought lines on the left by connecting the points in order to obtain the points of intersection of these intersecting lines (dotted lines in Figure 5).

The connecting lines – but the points of intersection that I obtained on the right – also intersect at a point indicated here by a small ring at the top (P in Figure 7), just as the three points that I obtained on the left lie on a straight line (dashed in Figure 5). That is to say, in the figure on the right, where lines are used instead of points and the connecting lines are intersections, I get a point where the three lines intersect, just as I got a line that passes through the three points on the left. I get a point for the line on the left.

Here I remain, proceeding purely from the realm of the intuitive, although within that which proceeds from intuition but which nevertheless leads to something else. And I ask you to consider the following. Suppose you look in the line, in the direction indicated by the (dashed) line on the left, which goes through the three points of intersection – Alpha, Beta, Gamma. Then you will look up at an intersection point that obscures the others, in relation to which the others are behind it (Figure 8). Here, in the line, you have not only “three points.” But as soon as you move on to a relationship of reality, something quite vivid occurs in relation to these three points: the point gamma is the one in front, and behind it are the points beta and alpha. You have clearly laid this out in the left-hand figure in the illustration.

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If we now go through a completely legitimate procedure, which I have described, to the corresponding structure on the right, we have to consider a point instead of a line (P in Figure 9). When we consider this point, we must say that just as on the left an intersection point gamma arises from the connection of III with 2 and the connection of 3 with II, covering the other intersection points, so on the right the necessity arises to introduce what follows and thus, through the law of connection, to pass from the concrete to the non-concrete: On the right (Figure 9), the necessity arises to imagine the curled point (P) in such a way that the ray (Gamma), which is formed by connecting the points of intersection of the lines III and 2, II and 3, first intersects at the curled point with the ray (Beta) that is formed by the preceding ratio ( III with 1, I with 3); and we must imagine that within this curled point the intersections that arise through the three dashed lines also lie as three internally differentiated entities, just as on the left on the dash-dotted line the three points gamma, beta, alpha. That is, I must find the intersections arranged in the individual point on the right so that they coincide one above the other.

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That means, in other words, nothing less than: Just as I have to think of the dashed-and-dotted line on the left in such a way that a front and back arises for the points gamma, beta, and alpha for an observing eye, so I have to think of a differentiation within the point, that is, a spatial expansion of zero, in all three dimensions. Seen from the way it has arisen out of this structure, I have to think of this point, not as something undifferentiated, but as having a front and a back. Here I am confronted with the necessity of not thinking of a point as neutral in all directions, but of thinking of the point as having a front and a back.

I am making a journey here, through which I am forced out of the free formation of the mathematical and into something where the objective passes over into an inner determination, into an inner being. You see, this journey is similar to the one through which I pass from the mathematically free formation to the acceptance of this formation from the inner determination within the natural order. And by passing from analytical to synthetic geometry, I get the beginning of the path that is shown to me from mathematics to inorganic natural science.

Then, basically, it is only a small step to something else. By continuing these considerations, to which I have now pointed, one can also come to an inner understanding of the following state of consciousness: if one pursues purely with the help of projective, synthetic geometry how a hyperbola relates to an asymptote, then one finds purely intuitively that on the one hand, say at the upper right, the asymptote ptote approaches the hyperbola but never reaches it, but you still get the idea that the hyperbola comes back from the lower left with the other branch, and the asymptote also comes back from the lower left with its other side. In other words, through this relationship between asymptote and hyperbola I get something that I could draw on the board for you in something like the following (Figure 10): at the top right, the asymptote, the straight line, approaches the hyperbola ever closer. I have added a shading there to express what kind of relationship the asymptote actually has to the hyperbola. It is getting closer and closer to him, it wants to get to him, it is getting closer and closer to the essence of its relationship to him. If you now follow this relationship upwards to the right, you will finally come to the conclusion, through purely projective thinking – I can only hint at this here – that the direction of the line that you have upwards to the right, be it the hyperbola or the asymptote, coming from the lower left, , coming from the lower left, the hyperbolast and the asymptote, and this in such a way that it leaves the hyperbolast more and more with its being in the hatched suggestion.

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So that we can say: this asymptote has a remarkable property. As it ascends to the right, it turns towards the hyperbola with its relationship to the hyperbola; as it comes up again from the bottom left, it turns away from the hyperbola with its relationship to the hyperbola. This line, the asymptote, when I look at it in its entirety, in its totality, has a front and a back again. That is why I was able to draw the shading on one side one time and on the other side the next. I come again into an inner differentiation of the linear, as I come into an inner differentiation when I force the purely mathematical pictorial into the realm of natural occurrence. That is, I approach what occurs as differentiation in the natural occurrence when I want to grasp the mathematical structures themselves in the right way with the help of projective geometry.

What happens through projective geometry can never be done in the same way through mere analytic geometry. For mere analytic geometry, by constructing in coordinates and then searching for the end points of the abscissas and ordinates in its computational form, remains, in its form, completely outside the curve or outside the structure itself. Projective geometry does not stop at the curve and the figure, but penetrates into the inner differentiation of the figure: to the point where one must distinguish between front and back – to the straight line where one must also distinguish between front and back. I have only indicated these properties because of the limited time available. I could also mention other properties, for example, a certain curvature ratio that the point extended in the three spatial dimensions has within itself, and so on.

If you really follow the path from analytical geometry into synthetic geometry with an open mind, if you see how you are, I would say, caught up in something that already approaches reality is already approaching reality, how this reality is present in the external nature, then one has the same inner experience, exactly the same inner experience that one has when one ascends from the ordinary concept of the mind, from ordinary logic, to the imaginative. One must only continue in imaginative cognition. But one has given the beginning when one begins to move from analytical geometry to synthetic. One notices there the interception of what arises from the determination by external reality, after which one has grasped the result, and one notices the same in imaginative cognition.

And now, what is the opposite path within spiritual science to that which leads from ordinary objective knowledge to imaginative knowledge? It would be the one that led from intuition down to inspired knowledge. But there we already find that we are standing inside the real. For with intuition we stand inside the real. And we move away from the real. Descending from intuition to inspiration, we again move away from the real. And when we come down to imagination, we have only the image of the real within.

This path is at the same time the one that the real undergoes in order to become our object of knowledge. Of course, in intuition we are immersed in reality. We move away from reality to inspiration, to imagination, and arrive at our objective knowledge. We then have this in our present knowledge. We make the path from reality to our knowledge. In a sense, we first stand within reality and depart from this reality to arrive at unreal knowledge. On the path we take from analytical geometry into projective or synthetic geometry, we try to move in the opposite direction again, from purely intellectual analytical geometry to where we can begin to think in real terms if we want to achieve anything at all. We are approaching the re-realization of nature, which it undergoes by wanting to become knowledge, by realizing unreal knowledge.

You see, there is no need to assume that our modern spiritual science, as it appears here, wanted to do mathematics differently than mathematicians do when they do mathematics in their own way. There is no need to do much else in the fields that a quantitative natural science has already entered today, except to look for special experimental setups that lead from the quantitative into the qualitative. And when this external quantitative natural science today presents modern anthroposophy with its 'sound results', it is a bit like when someone reads a poem that touches on completely different regions, and someone says: Yes, I cannot decide through my state of mind whether one can live in a poem, but I know something for sure: that two times two is four! No one doubts that two times two is four; nor does anyone doubt what modern inorganic natural science provides who wants to advance to spiritual science. But there is no particular objection to the content of a poem, for example, if you hold up two times two is four to it.

What is at issue, however, is that the individual sciences should seriously and courageously take the path towards a true knowledge of reality that Anthroposophy offers, towards which they are already particularly tending, towards which they want to go. And while some people today, in fruitless scepticism, want to create darkness over what they, often rightly, perceive as the limits of knowledge of nature, anthroposophy wants to start to ignite the light of spiritual knowledge where natural science becomes dark.

And so it will perhaps not make much of a departure from the methods of the sciences mentioned today; but it will present the significance, the inner value of the sciences that have been spoken of today to humanity and will thereby ensure that people know why they penetrate into existence with mathematics, not just why they arrive at a certain certainty with mathematics. For in the end it is not a matter of developing mere products of certainty. We could close ourselves in the narrowest circle and go round and round in the narrowest circle if we only wanted to hold on to “the most certain”. Rather, it is a matter of expanding knowledge. But this cannot be found if one shies away from the path out of inner experience into the outer, into being differentiated in itself. This path is even hinted at in many ways in present-day mathematics and mathematical science. One must only recognize it and then act scientifically in the sense of this knowledge.

Closing Remarks on the Disputation

Dear attendees! Partly because of the late hour and partly for other reasons, I will not say much more than a few remarks related to what has been presented and discussed this evening.

I would like to return very briefly to the question regarding Professor Rein for the reason that one circumstance in this matter should be emphasized sharply.

I am well aware that not much of approval can be said about my “Philosophy of Freedom” by a Herbartian, especially one who has gone through the historical school. This was evident almost immediately after the publication of The Philosophy of Freedom in 1894. One of the first reviews that appeared was by the Herbartian Robert Zimmermann. But I must say that, despite the fact that this review was extremely critical, I was pleased with it because some really great points of view were put forward in opposition at the time. As to how necessary the relationship must be between a Herbartian evaluation and what my Philosophy of Freedom contains, I have not the slightest doubt. But it is a pity that I do not have Professor Rein's review of The Philosophy of Freedom here and could quote the passage as I would like to. It has just been brought to me, and I can therefore say some things even more precisely than would otherwise be possible on the basis of the review. So let me quote from this review, which begins with the words: “In times of such a low level of morality as the German people have probably never experienced, it is doubly important to defend the great landmarks of morality, as established by Kant and Herbart, and not to allow them to be shifted in favor of relativistic tendencies. The words of Baron von Stein, that a nation can only remain strong through the virtues by which it has become great, must be considered one of the most important tasks in the midst of the dissolution of all moral concepts.

The fact that a writing by the leader of the anthroposophists in Germany, Dr. R. Steiner, is involved in this dissolution must be particularly regretted, since one cannot deny the idealistic basic feature of this movement, which aims at a strong internalization of the individual human being, and in its plan of the threefold structure of the social body can find healthy thoughts that promote the welfare of the people. But in his book “The Philosophy of Freedom” (Berlin 1918), he takes his individualistic approach to such an extreme that it leads to the dissolution of the social community and must therefore be fought.

You can clearly see here that the “Philosophy of Freedom” is said to have emerged from the dissolution of all moral concepts and so on – and one can believe that, that it can be the opinion of one man.

Now, a large part of those present here know my views on scientific accuracy, on scientific conscientiousness, and above all, that one should first properly educate oneself about what one writes. To associate the Philosophy of Freedom, which appeared in 1894, even stylistically, with what is implied in the first sentences, is a frivolity. And such frivolity cannot be excused by the fact that the author, who works as a professor of pedagogy at a university, has by no means — as I believe has been said — “gone beyond the bounds of truly objective judgment.” The point is that we can only bring about a recovery of precisely those conditions, which have been discussed here this evening in a rather hearty way, if we do not make ourselves guilty of the same carelessness, but if we strictly exercise scientific conscientiousness precisely towards those who, by virtue of their office, have the task of educating young people. We must not allow those who have this profession to overlook the circumstances and times in which a work was written that they want to judge. That is the first thing I have to say.

Then there is the way of quoting. In this article you will find an incredible way of tearing sentences out of context and then not taking up what is said in my “Philosophy of Freedom”, but rather what the author of the article thinks he is entitled to take up, based on his own opinion, and what can be inferred from his interpretation of the sentences he has quoted.

Anyone who takes the trouble to really read The Philosophy of Freedom will see that it deals in a completely clear way with how to avoid the misunderstandings that Professor Rein criticizes when sentences are taken out of context in any way.

His description of how the Philosophy of Freedom is taken out of its historical context is matched by his placing it in impossible contexts: “If we listen to Dr. Steiner speak, we might be tempted to see him as an apostle of ethical libertinism. He also felt this and countered the objection, which goes: If every person only strives to live out and do as he pleases, then there is no difference between good action and crime. Every crookedness that lies in me has the same claim to be realized as the intention to serve the general good. Dr. Steiner seeks to refute this objection by pointing out that man may only claim the freedom demanded if he has acquired the ability to rise to the intuitive idea content of the world. To acquire this ability is the task of the anthroposophist, who is to rise to the standpoint of ethical individualism.

Now, please ask yourself whether someone is allowed to write such sentences as an assessment of Philosophy of Freedom. Philosophy of Freedom was published in 1894, before the term anthroposophist was coined. Professor Rein also places the “Philosophy of Freedom” in a milieu that was an impossible one for the “Philosophy of Freedom” at the time of its publication, apart from the trivialities that come later, where he speaks of it as an ethics for anthroposophists and angels and the like, and so on.

It is not at all my intention to cast a slur on what I might call the opposing point of view, but to show that this way of judging spiritual matters is part and parcel of the whole world of the person who has to leave our culture behind if the conditions that should be discussed here today are to improve. I may well say that I have carefully considered whether or not I should finally speak these words here. But it seems to me that the matter is important enough, and I believe that I have not crossed the boundary of objectivity, that I have actually confined myself essentially to characterizing the way of judging and not the “point of view” before you here. I know that it is always somewhat precarious to discuss family matters. However, I cannot change my approach, although I am not bound by it anyway, as I have no father-in-law among my colleagues!

Now I would like to make a few other comments, taking up a sentence that has also been discussed here today. Just to speak symptomatically, I would like to relate a small experience, but only to illustrate.

It has been said that it is true that not all students who come to a university or college are ready for that college; but the professors at the colleges cannot be held responsible for that, and these students are simply sent to them by the secondary schools. Yes, but I really could not help but think of a conversation that had once been held in my presence with one of the most famous literary historians at German universities. This literary historian was also on the examination board for grammar school teaching. – I don't really like to do it, but today times are so serious that one must also bring up such things. – He said: Yes, with these grammar school teachers, we know them, we have to examine them, but we sometimes have very strange thoughts when we have to let these camels out as grammar school teachers!

Well, as I said, it is just an illustration that I would like to give through this experience. I don't know if it speaks very strongly for the university teachers when an examiner and famous university teacher deigns to call the teachers of youth who are sent to the grammar schools “camels”. I'm not saying it, but the man in question did say it. I am only quoting. Well, every thought must be thought through to the end. And I believe that when the thought is thought through to the end, university teachers should not complain when incompetent high school graduates enter the university gates; after all, it was the university teachers who sent out the high school teachers who prepared these graduates for them. So in the end it is necessary, as I said, to think the idea through to the end. And that shows us that, if with some indulgence, we may already apply the concept of guilt in a certain respect.

But today some very strange words have been said, you see. And I must say that one of the strangest words, almost one of the little piquant ones, was this: that it was said that a university teacher had said: We expect deliverance from the student body! I am just surprised that he did not also say: From the moment we sit down on the school benches and promote the students to the professorship. You see, it is necessary to follow up the worn-out judgments that are buzzing around the present and that are nevertheless the cause of our current conditions. Of course, in doing so, one does not fail to recognize that there are exceptions and exceptions everywhere, and one can, for example, subscribe to much, very much, of what has been said with regard to art instruction at the academies. But on the whole, one must say that there is not so much reason to have good hopes for the future if one is not prepared to join forces, not only externally, through some association or the like, to join forces to move towards some vague goal, but when one is prepared – only when one is prepared – to truly engage in a thorough renewal and revival of our spiritual life itself. The actual damage is already encroaching on our spiritual life itself. And anyone who is familiar with the whole structure of anthroposophical life, how it has led, for example, to this School of Spiritual Science, certainly does not need to be told that “everyone must be free to express their worldview and to speak out of their own free conviction!” The many malicious natures who are here today to say all kinds of inaccurate things about the anthroposophical movement and related matters will immediately take advantage of this and say: These anthroposophists want their world view to be represented everywhere.

Now, the Waldorf school was founded by our community, without in any way founding a school of world view. The opposite of a world view school should be founded. This has been emphasized time and again. And anyone who believes that the Waldorf school is “an anthroposophical school” does not know it at all. And nor can it be said here at the Goetheanum that anyone is restricted in their free expression of their most deeply held convictions.

But what I will always fight for, despite all freedom, individuality and intellectualism, is scientific conscientiousness, thoroughness, being informed about what one is writing about, not just putting forward one's own opinion because one believes that under certain circumstances damage could arise from something that one has not really taken the trouble to understand, and from which one has plucked a few sentences in order to write an article.

I say this quite dispassionately. You know that I usually use the things that are done as “reviews” of anthroposophy only as a proximate occasion to characterize general conditions. I am not really interested in the personal attacks, only to the extent that they point to what needs to be changed in our circumstances. And here I do believe that the fellow student from Bonn, in his hearty way, has struck the right note, a right note to the extent that the students he meant really cannot find what they are looking for at the universities or colleges today.

But not “because of the curriculum”, not “because the right choices are not being made”, but because today's youth quite instinctively – without being fully aware of it – craves something from the bottom of their hearts that is not yet present within the general scientific framework, but which must be created within the general scientific framework. This is what awaits young people. This youth will certainly not fail to grasp with both hands when it is offered what it really wants: a truly new spirit. For such a new spirit is needed in the present.

This is basically the reason for the aversion to what emanates from anthroposophical spiritual science, even if one uses the phrase “one wants to accommodate every new thing”. When it asserts itself, then one does not do it after all. Because basically one cannot do it at all. It would be of no use to conceal these things in any way, but rather they must be pointed out clearly and distinctly.

Then the question of the World School Association was raised here. I believe I expressed very clearly what I have to say about this World School Association in terms of its intentions at the end of our last School of Spiritual Science course here in the fall. I then again expressed in roughly the same way the necessity of founding such a general world school association in The Hague, in Amsterdam, in Utrecht, in Rotterdam and in Hilversum: that the possibility of working in a world school association depends on the conviction that a new spirit must enter into the general school system spreading in as many people as possible. I have pointed out that today it cannot depend on founding schools here or there that would stand alone and in which a method is applied that is widespread in this or that respect, but that the school system of modern civilization must be taken into hand on the basis of the idea of a self-supporting, liberated spiritual life, the school system for all categories, for all subjects.

As far as I am aware, the words and calls that I have spoken so far are the only things I have to report on. These words were intended to find an echo in the civilized population of the present day. I have no such response to report. And I think the fellow student from Bonn spoke a true word when he pointed out that ultimately the student body from whose hearts he spoke here is in the minority. I think it is very, very much in the minority, especially in Germany. But also otherwise – I don't want to be unkind to anyone – otherwise, from where we are not far away at all. This is shown by the attendance at this college course. He said: the majority of the student body is asleep! Yes, it also rages at times. But one can also sleep while raging with regard to the things at stake.

And with regard to the matters for which this demand for the World School Association has been raised, everyone is also sleeping peacefully in the broadest circles. And it must be said: people have not yet really become accustomed to how necessary it is to bring anthroposophical work into modern civilization. We must become accustomed to it, and I long for the day when I can report more fully on the question of the world school association. Today I still could not say much more than what I said at the end of the School of Spiritual Science courses here last fall, although what I said was intended to allow something completely different to be reported today.

But the same applies to other things, and it is very difficult to raise awareness of the issues that really matter in today's world.

In a lecture in Berlin, after Lloyd George had called a general election in England in the wake of a strike that had already broken out, I pointed out that you don't achieve anything with such things, that it's just a postponement. It seems that people took it as a mere catchphrase at the time. Now, please, see for yourself today, you could have done so for a few days already, whether what I said back then was just a catchphrase or whether it was perhaps born out of a deeper understanding of social interrelations and the necessity of social interrelations.

The difficulty is that today there are so few people with the enthusiasm that really makes them feel inwardly involved with what they are saying. And so I am always pleased when young people come forward who have something to say about how they find what they are looking for here or there. For I believe that from such impulses will emerge what we need for all insight, for all understanding: inner participation, inner participation that knows how strong the metamorphosis must be that leads us from the declining forces of an old civilization to the impulses of the new civilization. Yes, we need conscientious understanding, we need penetrating insight. But above all, we need what youth could bring out of its natural abilities. But we need not only insight, not only penetrating understanding of the truth, in the broadest circles of present-day civilized humanity, we need enthusiasm for the truth!

I have been asked to lecture this evening on The Necessity for a Renewal of Culture. During the past few days I have been speaking to you on the spiritual science of Anthroposophy. This is a field which may be dealt with generally by any individual, if he thinks that he can communicate to others this or that result of special investigations or impulses. For this is the expression of an individual impulse—although one must of course bear in mind that it is something which, from certain standpoints, may be of interest to all.

But I have quite a different feeling in regard to this evening's subject. In the present time, when one has to speak of the necessity for a renewal of culture, one only has the right to do so if one can perceive that this subject really corresponds to a general demand, that people are filled by the desire for a renewal of culture, and believe in what may be called a renewal of culture. An individual must therefore more or less interpret a generally ruling view. For in regard to such a subject, arbitrary individual opinions would only be an expression of lack of modesty and conceit.

The following question therefore arises: Does this subject correspond to-day to a generally ruling feeling, to a sum of feelings which exists in wide circles? If we look in an unprejudiced way into the hearts and souls of our contemporaries, if we study their soul-moods and their general frame of mind, we may indeed believe that this subject of the necessity for a renewal of culture is in many respects justified.

Do we not see that in the most varied spheres of life many of our contemporaries feel that something must penetrate into our spiritual life and into the other branches of human life, something which in some way corresponds to the longing which manifests itself so clearly?

To-day we come across searching souls in many fields of artistic life. Who has not noticed these searching souls? We find them above all among modern youth. Particularly there we find that youth expects something which it cannot obtain from the things offered by the generally prevailing spirit of the times. Especially in the sphere of ethical-religious life we come across such seeking souls. Innumerable questions, expressed and above all unexpressed, questions which live only in the depths of feeling, are now reposing in human hearts. If we consider social life, then the course of the world's events and all that takes place, as it were, within this domain, takes on the aspect of one great question: Where must we look for some kind of cultural renewal of our social life?

The individual, however, who considers these different questions, may nevertheless not go further than the belief that he can but offer a small contribution towards these problems, arising out of a generally felt need in this domain. But perhaps the explanations resulting from anthroposophical spiritual research contained in the last lectures which I gave to you here, entitle me to set forth a few facts on the subject chosen for to-day, even though the spiritual science of Anthroposophy knows that in regard to many things which people are now seeking, it can at the most offer a few impulses which can bear fruit; yet it is the very aim of anthroposophical research to offer such impulses, such germinating forces.

At Dornach, in Switzerland, we have tried to establish the School for Spiritual Science, the Goetheanum. Here we can say that at least the attempt has been made to fructify the single scientific spheres by adding to the results obtained in medicine, natural science, sociology, history, and many other fields by the highly significant methods of recent times, the results which can be obtained through direct investigation of the spiritual world itself.

In the pedagogical-didactical field, the effort has been made to obtain some practical results through the Waldorf School in Stuttgart. Attempts have even been made to achieve results in the economic field. But there we must say that present conditions are so difficult, that these newly founded economic undertakings must first pass the test showing whether they are able to—I will not say attain—but at least encourage what so many modern people are seeking to find.

Let me therefore begin with this quest. I cannot speak of course from the standpoint of your nation, where I have the great pleasure of being your guest; I can only speak to you from an international standpoint. Those who have open hearts, minds and souls for the longings of that section of mankind which counts most for the future, those who observe this in an unprejudiced way, cannot help turning their gaze to the young people and their quest!

Everywhere we find that our young people are filled with the longing, arising out of an altogether indefinite feeling, for something quite new. The earnest, significant question must therefore rise up: Why do our young people not have full satisfaction in the things which we as older people could offer to them? And I believe that this very quest of youth is connected with the most intimate and deepest soul-impulses, which give rise in men's hearts in the present time to this general sense of seeking.

I believe that in this respect we must penetrate deeply into human souls, if the call for a renewal of culture, which can now be heard plainly, is to be judged according to its true foundation. We shall have to look into many depths of human soul-life; above all we cannot deal only with the characteristics of modern culture, but we shall have to survey a longer stretch of time.

If we do this in an unprejudiced way, we find that in an international respect the special soul-configuration of modern humanity has been prepared during the past three, four or five centuries, and we also find that these last three, four and five centuries reveal something completely new, compared with the spiritual constitution which still existed in the Occident during the 10th, 11th and 12th centuries, derived from a still earlier epoch. Whenever we survey these earlier times of spiritual life in the Occident, we find that man's soul-spiritual conception was not so strictly separated from his physical or sensory conception, as was the case later on and during the present time.

In earlier centuries, when the human being turned his senses towards the physical world which constituted his environment, he always knew that a spiritual element also lived in the objects which he perceived though his senses. He no longer had such a highly spiritual conception of the world as, for instance, the ancient Egyptian, or even the ancient Greek, who saw the external embodiment of soul-spiritual beings in the world of the stars, but he still had some inkling of the fact that a spiritual essence permeated everything in his physical environment.

Again, when the human being of earlier centuries looked back upon his own self, he did not strictly separate his physical-bodily part from his soul, i.e. from thought, feeling and will. I might say that by being conscious of his soul, he was at the same time conscious of the members of his body, of the organs of his body, and he also perceived a soul-spiritual essence in these bodily organs, he felt a soul-spiritual essence in his own organism. In the world outside he experienced this soul-spiritual essence, and within his own self he also experienced a soul-spiritual essence.

He thus felt a certain relationship, a certain intimacy with the world around him. He could say to himself: What lives within me, also lives in a certain respect within the universe, and Divine-spiritual beings, who lead and guide the world, placed me into this universe. He felt connected with the universe and had a feeling of intimacy with it. He experienced, as it were, that he formed part of the great soul-spiritual-physical organism of the universe.

This is a feeling which we do not fully understand to-day, because during the past centuries the times have undergone a complete change. This change appears not only among theoreticians and scientists, but it reveals itself in every human heart, in every human soul. It does not merely reveal itself in the way in which modern people contemplate the world, but also in the way in which spirit is embodied in matter in artistic creation and in the enjoyment of art. It reveals itself in our social life, in the way in which we face our fellowman, in the understanding which we have for him, and in what we demand from him. Finally, it reveals itself in the feelings which we have concerning our own ethical-religious impulses, in the way in which we experience the Divine within our own heart and soul, in our attitude towards the impulse which gave to the earth in the deepest way the key to the spirit underlying earthly existence in our attitude towards the deeper inner meaning of Christianity.

We can therefore say: What people thus search for in widest circles must in some way be related with this change. What is the nature of this change?

Now the last centuries have seen the dawn of an age which is frequently described as the age of intellectualism. But it was not intellectualism, an abstract use of the understanding which in the past made people feel so closely connected and acquainted with the surrounding world—as I briefly explained to you just now. Only in the course of human evolution has modern man thoroughly learned to have full confidence in the intellect and in the understanding, when contemplating the world, and even when experiencing it.

Now, however, there are two conditions of human life which are interrelated: inwardly, intellectualism and confidence in the authority of reason, of the understanding, and outwardly, faith in the phenomena of Nature and a sense for the observation of Nature's phenomena.

Inwardly, modern man developed an inclination to set everything under the rule of an intellectualistic observation based on reason. As a natural consequence, this inner capacity above all, could only be applied to the phenomena of Nature, to everything which can be observed through the senses, to everything which can be analyzed or combined in the form of thoughts. These two things, I might say, the indisputable observation of Nature and the development of the intellect, were the two great, important means of education used during recent centuries: they exercised their strongest influence upon civilised humanity during the 19th century and have also carried their fruits into the 20th century.

One of the characteristics connected with the use of the intellect is that in a certain way our inner experience becomes isolated. The use of the intellect (it clearly reveals itself in its picture-character) in a certain way estranges feeling; it takes on a cold, prosaic life-nuance, and in reality it can only develop in the right way through external Nature, through everything which constitutes the surrounding world.

Through this connection, through this relationship of man with the world, deeply satisfying explanations can be found in regard to Nature, but it does not supply in the same measure as in the past the possibility to discover oneself, as it were, within external Nature. The soul-spiritual element which shone out to the men of olden times from a world filled with colour, sound, warmth and coldness, and from the year's seasons, could be experienced as something which was related to what lived in their inner being.

Through our feeling, we can no longer directly bring into our own inner being the whole external life of Nature, which we learn to know through the intellect—all that we discover through intellectual research in physics, chemistry and biology. We can certainly strive to investigate biologically man's inner organic structure; we can even go as far as seeking to investigate the chemical processes of the human organism. But if we apply the investigation of external Nature to the human organism in order to understand it, we shall never find that this manner of investigation also takes hold of our feeling, that it can be summed up in a religious-ethical feeling towards the universe, and that finally it can be expressed in the feeling: "I am a member of the universe: Soul-spiritual is the universe, and I too am soul-spiritual."

This feeling does not shine out of the things which could be learnt during recent centuries through the magnificent impulses of natural science. Consequently, the very forces which brought the best and most significant fruit and which transformed the whole existence of modern man, at the same time estranged him from his own self.

The fact that he stands within the universe and admiringly looks upon his mathematical conception of the spatial world, of the stars and their movements, the fact that he can unfathom with a certain scientific reverence what plants, animals, etc., contain, is accompanied (in spite of all the problems which are still unsolved) by a certain feeling of satisfaction; people are filled with satisfaction that on the one hand it is possible for them to solve the riddles of Nature by using their intellect and their reason; but there is one thing which cannot be reached along this path, namely a Knowledge of Man's True Being.

The science dealing with the stars, the science which exists in the form of physics and chemistry, the science of biology, and in more recent times even the science of history, do not reveal anything in reply to man's deepest longing concerning his own being. And hence arose more and more the need to seek for something else.

Their quest is none other than the quest of modern man for the human being. Though we may do our utmost to summarize the true nature of this quest in different spheres everywhere, we find that men now really wish to solve the riddle of their own being, the riddle of man.

This is not merely something which may interest theoreticians, but something which deeply penetrates into the constitution of every human soul. To all who are interested in such things it is undoubtedly a source of deepest longing when the investigation of Nature leads to the desire to discover also what lies concealed behind the great expanse of Nature's life: namely, man's being, which greatly transcends all that can be gathered from the external kingdoms of Nature.

But I might say: At this point, the great riddle, the search for the nature of man, really begins. At this point we also understand the fact that we have allowed our feelings and our whole education to be influenced by forces which thus came to the fore during recent centuries. External life reflects this in every way. Far more than we think, external life reflects the forces which came to the fore in the spiritual life of humanity during its more recent course of development, as described just now.

We not only enquire in vain after man's true being from a theoretical standpoint—oh no!—but to-day we pass each other by, and under the influence of our modern education we have not the capacity to understand our fellow-men inwardly, we lack the capacity to look with a kind of clairvoyant sympathy into the human soul and into what lives in it, a capacity which still existed in many civilisations of the past. Not only theoretically have we lost the understanding for the human being, but in every moment of the day we lack a sympathetic comprehension, a sympathetic, feeling contact with our fellow-men. Perhaps this appears most clearly of all in the social question; in its present form it shows us that we have indeed lost this understanding for our fellow-men.

For why does the call for social reforms, for a social renewal, resound so loudly? Because in reality we have grown utterly unsocial. As a rule, we demand most loudly of all the very things which we most sorely lack, and in the loud call for socialism, a truly unprejudiced person can hear the truth, that we no longer understand each other and are unable to build up a social organism, because we have grown so unsocial. Consequently, we cling to the hope that our understanding, which has reached such a high stage of development through intellectualism, may after all lead us back to an organic social structure.

The social question itself shows us above all how estranged we have become from each other as human beings. In quite recent times the religious question confronts us, because we have lost the immediate inner experience of being directly connected with the divine essence of the universe; we no longer feel the voice speaking within our own self as an expression of the Divine-spiritual. The call for a religious renewal also arises through a really felt need.

If we now look more deeply into the seeking life of modern times, by setting out from such aspects, we find that the intellectual culture, the intellectual contemplation which gradually made even human feeling grow pale, is after all something which is connected with a definite age of human life.

We should not fall a prey to any illusion: for in regard to his intellect, the human being really awakes only when he reaches the age of puberty; his intellectual powers awake at that time of his life when he is ready to work in the external world. But intellectualism is never our own personal property, a force which can move our soul during childhood, or soon after when we go to school. In this early life the soul's configuration must differ from its later configuration. The intellectual element in modern life cannot and must not develop during childhood and in early youth, for it would have a chilling, deadening, paralyzing effect upon the forces of youth.

Thus it came about (in order to understand the present time and its longings we must penetrate into more intimate details of life) that we now grow into a culture which deprives us—though this may sound paradoxical—in our mature age of the most beautiful memories of our childhood.

If we look back in memory upon our experiences of childhood, we cannot draw up with sufficient intensity and warmth the undefined feelings and memories which frequently live in unconscious depths and which sometimes can only rise up in nuances of thoughts and memories. We reach the point of being unable to understand ourselves completely. We look back upon the life of our childhood as if it were a riddle. We no longer know how to speak out of our full human being, and into the language which we speak as grown-ups we can no longer bring that shading which re-echoes what the child experiences in its living wisdom, when it turns its innocent eyes to the surrounding world, when it unfolds its will during the early years of its existence.

We do not study history in a true way if it does not show us that among the people of olden times, the speech of men who had reached a mature age always re-echoed the development of childhood. We live through our childhood unconsciously, but in such a way, that this unconscious life of the soul still contains in an intensive form what we brought with us through birth, through the union with the physical body, what we brought with us from the soul-spiritual life of our pre-existence.

Those who can observe a child, those who have an open soul and mind for this kind of observation, will discover the greatest mystery when they see how week by week the child unfolds what the human being brings with him into the earthly-physical world from a soul-spiritual existence. What man's eternal being unconsciously brings into the human members, into the whole human organisation, so that it lives and pulses through the body, brings about an inner permeation with soul-spiritual forces, which however encounter a kind of chilling substance, when later on the intellect which really exists only for earthly concerns comes to the fore.

Those who to-day have enough self-observation for such intimate things, know that a kind of thin fog spreads over that which seeks to enter our mature consciousness from our childhood; they know that it is impossible to bring into words which have grown old the living experiences of childhood, because these exercise a soul-spiritual influence, and live within the child in a far more intensive soul-spiritual form than they can later on live in an intellectualistic state.

A witty writer of the 18th and 19th century once wrote: During his first three years of life, man learns far more than during his three years at the university. I do not mean to hurt the feelings of university students, for I can appreciate them, but I also believe that in regard to our whole, full manhood, we learn more during the first three years of life, when we form our organism out of our still unconscious wisdom, than we can ever learn later on. Yet our modern culture strongly develops the tendency to forget these most important three years of life, at least it has the tendency to prevent their coming to expression in a corresponding living way in that which manifests itself later on as the expression of our mature culture. But this fact exercises a great influence upon our whole civilised life. If we are unable to colour, animate, and spiritualize our mature speech and the thoughts of mature life with the forces which well up from our own childhood—because the intellect gives us pictures, a spiritual world in pictures, but is unable to absorb spiritual life, the life of the spirit itself—if we are unable to do this, we cannot speak to youth in a living and intensive way. We then speak out of a lost youth to a living youth round about us.

This is the feeling which we discover in modern youth, this is the feeling expressed in their search and which may be characterised as follows: "You old people speak a language which we cannot understand; you speak words which find no echo in our hearts and souls."—This is why the call for a renewal of culture is to be heard above all in the longings of our young people, and we must realize that by going back to a comprehension of the spiritual we must again learn to speak to youth in the right way, and even to speak in the right way to children.

My dear friends, those who permeate their inner being with the truths which anthroposophical spiritual research seeks to grasp through the soul's living being and not through abstract thoughts, take hold of something which does not grow old, which even in mature years does not deprive them of the forces of childhood; they feel, in a certain way, the more spiritual forces of childhood and of youth entering their maturer life. They will then find the words and the deeds which appeal to youth, the words and deeds which unite them with the young.

It was this observation of youth's mood of seeking which led to the endeavor to create at the Waldorf School in Stuttgart above all a body of teachers able to speak to children out of a spiritual rejuvenation reached in maturer years, to speak to children once more as if they were real friends. To those people who acquire something of genuine spirituality in their life, every child is a revelation, they know that the child, the small child and the older child, can—if they have an open heart for this—give them more than they can give to the child. Though this may sound paradoxical, it is nevertheless the note which may lead to a kind of renewal of culture in this sphere.

If we let this shed light on the other things which confront us in life, we must say to ourselves if we clearly perceive that man is in search of man and that he must seek him; that is to say, if we can see that the human being who has become one-sided through intellectualism goes in search of the full whole human being, we shall come across this same fact very definitely in many other spheres of life to-day.

If we survey the times which have given rise to the great achievements of modern culture, achievements which cannot be prized highly enough, we find that modern civilisation could only be gained by forfeiting something of man's whole being. Man looked out into the world's spaces. He could build instruments enabling him to discover the nature and the movements of the stars. It is only since a few centuries, however, that results which thus confront us have developed in such a way as to supply a mathematical physical picture of the universe. To-day we no longer feel how in the past men looked out into the universe and perceived in the stars' courses a revelation of the spirit in the cosmos, in the same way in which we now perceive in the physiognomy of a human being the revelation of his soul and spirit. An abstract, dried-up mathematical-mechanical element now appears to us in the cosmos, although in itself it is one which cannot be prized highly enough. We look up to the sky and perceive nothing but an immense world-mechanism. The ideal has more and more gained ground to perceive this world-mechanism everywhere. And what has grown out of it to-day

Though to many contemporaries this may still seem contradictory, I think that to an unprejudiced observation it is everywhere clearly evident that the social sphere of humanity which surrounds us everywhere and which constitutes our modern civilisation, now sends out its answers to the concept of world-mechanism.

For to-day our social and also our ethical and juridical life, and in a certain way—as I will immediately show you—even our religious life, have taken on a mechanistic character.

We can see that in millions and millions of men there lives the view that the historical evolution of mankind does not contain spiritual forces, but only economic forces, and that everything which lives in art, religion, ethics, science, law, etc., is a kind of fog rising out of the only historical reality, out of economic life. Economic forms are realities and their influence upon men—this is what many people say to-day and one's heart should feel the great tragedy of such statements—gives rise to what develops in the form of law, ethics, religion, art, etc. This is their view: they think that all this is an ideology.

This has driven us in a direction which has, to be sure, produced great results in the spiritual life of the Occident, but to-day it has reached the opposite pole of what once existed in ancient better times of the past in the civilisation of the Orient—though even the Oriental culture has now become decadent. It was a one-sided culture, but our modern culture is also one-sided.

Let us bear in mind that once upon a time—in the East above all—there lived a race which described the external physical world as Maya, as the great illusion, for it only looked upon man's inner life as the true reality, man's thoughts, sensations, feelings and impulses of the will were the only reality. Once upon a time there was this other one-sided conception of perceiving the true essence and reality only in man's inner being, in the world of his thoughts, feelings and sensations, and of seeing in the external world nothing but Maya or the great illusion.

To-day we have reached the opposite conception, which is also one-sided. From the standpoint of modern culture we see the physical world everywhere round about us, and we call it the true reality. Millions of people see reality only in the physical course of economic processes and consider man's inner life an ideology, with the inclusion of everything which has proceeded from it in the development of culture. What millions and millions of people now designate an ideology is after all the same thing which the Orientals once called Maya, illusion—it is simply a different word, and used to be sure, in the opposite sense. The Oriental could have applied the word “ideology” to the external world, and “reality” to his inner being. Modern culture has reached the stage that countless people now apply these words in an opposite one-sidedness.

Our social life reveals something of which we can say: It has resulted in great and significant triumphs for science, but it has brought difficulties into human life itself, into the ethical and social life of men. But this mechanisation of life which now faces us does not only live in the ideas of millions of men, it really also exists. Our external life has become mechanised, and with our modern culture we are now living in a time which supplies man's answer in the social, ethical and religious spheres of life.

What first arose as a conception of the world in the great age of Galileo, Copernicus and Giordano Bruno, the conception which was then born, demands to be sure that it should be permeated with humanity in a different way from what has been the case so far. For the mechanisation of our human life is, as it were, the answer of civilisation to the mechanical character of our intellectual, scientific life.

We can see this in every detail. To-day we study natural science. We study the development of animal species from the lowest, simplest, most imperfect forms right up to man. Guided by highly praiseworthy scientific thought, we then place man at the end of this line of organic beings. What does this teach us in regard to him? That he is the highest animal. This is, of course, significant in a certain way, but we thus only learn to know man in his relationship to the other beings, not as he experiences himself as man. We learn to know what man develops in regard to the other beings, but not what constitutes his own self. Man loses himself in as much as he contemplates the external world in accordance with the admirable principles of modern natural science.

And hence the search for the human being, since through the great achievements of modern time, man has in a certain way, lost himself. And if we then look at the communal life in the social organism, we find that their reciprocal actions compel men to live as they do. In regard to this necessity we have gone very far in modern times. Into every sphere of social life there has entered a division of work. As regards the external mechanised life of modern times we must work so as to realize the truth of the words: All for one and one for all! In regard to external life we have had to learn to work one for the other.

But also, here we can see that for those who have not preserved old traditions but who have grown into the most modern form of life, human labour has become completely separated from the human being and that our modern understanding only enables us to grasp the external nature of man. Our conception and feeling in regard to human labour, through which we help our fellow men and work together with them, has therefore become a purely external one. We no longer observe the man and how he develops his work out of his soul-spiritual existence on earth, we do not see how human labour is the outcome of a man with whom we are closely bound up through feeling, who is a being like us. We see him and we do not feel that he is working for us. No, in the social life of to-day we look at the product, we see how much human labour has flowed into it and we judge human work in so far as we find it in the product.

This is so deeply rooted in people's minds, that by enhancing this great error of modern times Karl Marx reached the point of designating everything circulating as human labour in the form of goods produced for human consumption, as a crystallised condensed labour. We now judge labour separated from the human being, in the same way in which we have acquired the power of observing Nature apart from man. Our judgement of human labour is really infected by what we have learned to know concerning man and by the way in which we look upon him through natural science. This only leads us as far as the Nature-side of man, only as far as the fact that man is the highest animal: we do not penetrate as far as man's innermost being.

Even when we observe man in his work, we do not see how this work comes from him, but we wait instead until the product is there and only seek the work in something which has become emancipated from the man. And there stands man among us as a social being who knows that he must put into labour his human nature and frequently his human dignity, and he sees that this human dignity and the way in which labour comes out of his inner self, is not valued human work is only valued when it has streamed into the external product which is then brought on to the market; labour is there something which has been submerged in the wares, something which can, as it were, be bought and sold.

So in this connection, too, we see how man has lost himself. He has forfeited, as it were, a piece of his own self—his work—to the mechanism of modern civilisation.

We see this above all in the juridical part of the social organism. If we observe how the spiritual, mental, life prevails among us in modern times we find that the spirit only exists in abstract thoughts; that we can only have confidence in abstract thoughts and forget that the spirit lives within us in a direct way, that the spirit enters into us whenever we occupy ourselves with it, that our soul is not only filled by thoughts, but that our soul is really penetrated by the spirit whenever we are spiritually active. Mankind has lost this connection with the spirit, while its conception of Nature has become great. This in regard to the spiritual life.

In regard to our juridical, social and political life, the example of human labour has shown us that something which is connected with the human being has been torn away from him. When we observe the human soul in its intercourse as man with man, we do not see feeling flashing up and growing warm when one person looks at another's work. There is no warm feeling for the man at his work. We do not see the work developing in connection with man, but we only see something which can no longer kindle the other man's warm sympathy; we see the labour after it has left the man, and has flowed into the product.

So in this sphere, too, in the sphere of human intercourse and juridical life, we have lost man.

And if we look at the sphere of economics: in the economic life man must procure for himself what he needs for his consumption. The things which he needs for his own consumption are those for which he develops his capacities. Man will work all the better for others, for himself and for the whole human community, the more he develops his capacities. The essential point in economic life is the development of human faculties. When it is a question of people, an employee will find it advantageous to work for a capable employer. This is quite possible, for those whose work is guided by others physically or spiritually, soon recognize that they fare better with a capable leader than with an incapable one.

But does our modern economic striving tend above all to bear in mind the economic life and activity of mankind and to ask everywhere: Where are the more capable people? If we were to look upon this living element in man, upon this purely human element, if people were placed into economic life in accordance with their capacities, so that they might achieve their best for their fellows: that could achieve a conception, a culture, able to discover the human being in man.

But the characteristic of our modern culture is just this, that it cannot discover the human being in man, and to an unprejudiced observation it is evident that we have gradually lost the power of judging people rightly, in accordance with their capacities and gifts.

To be sure that testing entity, the examination, through which men's capacities are supposed to be shown, has acquired a great importance in our modern civilisation. But its chief aim is not to discover how a person can most capably work in life, for the mechanised way of living requires something else. In many respects indeed, there is the call to-day to let the best man fill the best place according to requirement, but this generally remains a pious wish, and we see that economic life above all—as well as other spheres, such as spiritual and juridical life—becomes severed from the human being. We do not consider the human being above all and his living connection with economic life, but we consider instead the best way in which he can become connected with something which is not really related to man. We see that economic life as well is separating itself from man. It is therefore no wonder that the call for a renewal of our present culture should arise in every sphere of life under the aspect of a search for the human being.

Things are not much better in the sphere of art. If we look back into the times of ancient Greece, we think that the Greek tragedians wrote their dramas in the same way in which we write them now. Yet the Greek conception of life in no way resembles the present one. The Greek spoke of Catharsis, the purification which must take place through the drama. What did he understand by catharsis or purification? He meant that a person participating in the action of such a tragedy or of some other piece, experienced something in his soul which made him pass through certain feigned emotions. But this had a purifying effect, and thereby a healing effect upon him, reaching as far as the physical organism; it had above all a purifying and healing effect upon the soul. And the most important thing in Greek drama consisted both in a higher spiritual impulse and, I might say, in a medical impulse; the Greek saw a kind of healing process in what he wished to impart to his fellow-men through his highly perfected art.

We cannot of course, become Greeks again; I am merely telling you this as an elucidation of the fact that we have actually entered into a mechanised way of living which is, as it were, a denial of the human being, and that this explains the deep longing which passes through the modern world as a search for man.

The spiritual science of Anthroposophy in order to support this search for the human being, strives for what may be called the threefold division of the social organism. This is subjected to many misunderstandings. It only seeks ways, however, which will lead, in the life of the spirit, to the rediscovery of no mere abstract spirit, a pallid thought world, at most a reflecting upon the spirit; which will lead, in the juridical-political life, to the rediscovery of not merely the work that flows into the product, but the valuing of man's work, that human valuing of work which arises in the communal life when man as man confronts his fellows in pure humanity.

And in the economic sphere, the threefold division of the social organism aims at the forming of Associations in which people unite as consumers and producers, so that they can guide economic life in an associative way, out of the most varied human spheres of interest.

We judge economic requirements purely through the mechanism of the market. The Associations are meant to unite people as living human beings who recognize the requirements in economic life; they are to form an organism that can regulate the conditions of production determined by the common life of men and by a knowledge of these requirements arising from such a joint life.

The threefold division of the social organism thus seeks to connect these three members-spiritual life, juridical life and economic life—in such a way within the social organism that the human element may everywhere be found again in the free life of the spirit, that does not serve economic interests nor proceed from these, that does not serve political interests nor proceed from these, but that stands freely upon its own foundation and seeks to develop human capacities in the best way. This free life of the spirit seeks to show man the human being—it shows the human being to man.

In the free Life of the Spirit the human being can be found by experiencing the spirit, thus unfolding in a harmonious way the human capacities; from such a relatively independent spiritual life, it will then be possible to send into the political-juridical life and into the economic life the men with the best capacities, thus fructifying these spheres. If the economic life or political life dictate what capacities are to be developed, they themselves cannot prosper. But if they leave the life of the spirit completely free, so that it can give to the world out of its own foundations what every individual brings into existence out of divine-spiritual worlds, then the other spheres of life can become fruitful in the widest sense of the word.

The States-life should cultivate what men can develop as the feeling of legal rights, as moral disposition inasmuch as they face each other as equals. The Economic Life should discover man through the necessary Associations in keeping with his needs and capacities in the economic sphere. The threefold division of the social organism does not aim at a mechanical separation of these three spheres, but by establishing a relative independence of these three spheres it seeks to enable man once more to find through these three spheres of life the full humanity which he has lost and which he is seeking to discover again.

In such a sense we may indeed speak of the necessity for a renewal of culture. And this is particularly evident if we look still deeper into man's inner being, into that inner part where, if he seeks to be fully man, and experience fully his dignity and worth as a human being, he must connect himself with the divine-spiritual; where he must experience and feel his own eternal being, that is to say, when we look at men's common religious life.

My dear friends, I only desire of course to say that these are the convictions of anthroposophical spiritual science; I do not wish to press anyone to accept this particular solution of to-day's subject. Anthroposophy seeks above all to recognize once more the place of Christianity in the evolution of the earth. It points to the Mystery of Golgotha, as Anthroposophy can unravel it in the spiritual world. Historical evolution is then traced in relation to the Mystery of Golgotha.

A spiritual study of human history reveals that in primeval times humanity possessed a kind of primeval revelation, a kind of instinctive primeval wisdom, which gradually disappeared and grew fainter, and this would have increased as time went on. If nothing else had occurred, we should now be living within a pallid spiritual life deprived of wisdom, a spiritual life that could have nothing in common with the warmth of our soul-life had not earthly existence been fructified at a certain moment by something which came from outside the earth.

Spiritual science, in the sense of Anthroposophy, can once more draw attention to the man Jesus, who at the beginning of our era, wandered upon the earth in Palestine. We see that modern external Christianity more and more considers this man Jesus merely as a human being, whereas in older times people saw in Jesus a Being from spiritual worlds transcending the earth, Who had united Himself with the man Jesus and Who had become Christ Jesus.

By investigating the spheres outside the earth with the aid of spiritual observation, spiritual science does not only draw attention to the man Jesus, but also to the Christ Who descended from heavenly heights, as a Principle transcending the earth and penetrating through the Mystery of Golgotha into human life on earth. And since the Mystery of Golgotha, the evolution of humanity on earth has become different, for a fructifying process from the heavenly worlds took place.

Modern culture leads men to concentrate their attention more and more upon the man Jesus, thus losing that feeling of genuine religious devotion gained by looking upon Christ Jesus, a feeling which alone can give us satisfaction. By looking only upon the man Jesus, people really lose that part in Jesus which could be of special value to them. For the human being in man has been lost. Even through religion we do not know how to seek in the right way the man in Jesus of Nazareth.

Through a deepening of the spiritual-religious life, anthroposophical spiritual science once more discloses the source of religious devotion, in other words, it leads to the search of the divine in man within the human being himself, so that it can also rediscover in the man Jesus the super-earthly Christ, thus penetrating to the real essence of Christ Jesus. Anthroposophy does not in any way degrade the Mystery of Golgotha by saying that what formerly existed outside the earth afterwards came down to the earth.

And what does one experience in the present age of modern culture by pursuing such a goal?

The tendency of anthroposophical spiritual science to consider what transcends the earthly sphere has led people to retort that Anthroposophy is not Christian, that it cannot be Christianity because it sets a super-earthly, cosmic Being in Christ Jesus in place of the purely human being. They even think that it is an offence to say that Christ came down from cosmic spaces and penetrated into Jesus. Why do they think this? Because people only see the mathematical-mechanical cosmos, only the great machinery, as it were, when they look out into the heavenly spaces, and this attitude affects even religion, even man's religious feeling. Consequently, even religious people, and those who teach religion to-day, think that religion would be mechanised if Christ were to be sought in the cosmic spaces before the time of the Mystery of Golgotha. Yet spiritual science does not mechanize religion, nor does it deprive Christianity of its Christian element; instead it fills external life with Christianity by showing: out there in the cosmos is not mere mechanism, not merely phenomena and laws which can be grasped, through mathematics and natural science—there is spirituality.

Whereas modern theologians often believe that Anthroposophy speaks of a Christ coming down from the sun, from the lifeless cosmic space into Jesus, what is true is that Anthroposophy also sees the spiritual in the realms outside the earth, and considers it a blessing for the earth that the heavenly powers sent down their influence through this Being Who gave the earth its meaning by passing through the Mystery of Golgotha, by coming down from heavenly heights and uniting Himself with the evolution of humanity upon the earth.

The spiritual science of Anthroposophy thus really seeks to render religious life fruitful again and to fill it with real warmth; it seeks to lead man back to the original source of the divine. And this is sought by listening to what lies in the call for a renewal of our culture.

We have watched the development of a magnificent science and are full of admiration for the achievements of this modern science which have brought about such great results in our civilisation. But in addition to this, we realize that there exists the call for a renewal of religious life, for a renewed religious deepening. On the one hand, we are to have a science which has nothing to do with religion, and at the same time we are to have a religious renewal. This is the dream of many people.

But it will be a vain dream. For the content of religion can never be drawn out of anything but what a definite epoch holds to be knowledge. If we look back into times when religious life was fully active, we find that religions were also filled with the content of knowledge of a definite epoch, though in a special form, with the breath of reverence and piety, with true devotion and (this is especially significant) with a feeling of veneration for the founder of the particular religion.

Our present time, our modern civilisation, will therefore be unable to draw any satisfaction out of a religious content which does not harmonize with the knowledge which is accessible to modern people. That is why anthroposophical spiritual science does not seek a religion in addition to science, but it endeavors instead to raise science itself to a stage where it can once more become religious. It does not seek an irreligious science, and beside it an unscientific religion, but a science which can cultivate a religious life out of its own sources. For the science which Anthroposophy seeks is not based in a one-sided way upon the intellect, but it embraces the whole human being and everything which lives in him. Such a form of science does not have a destructive influence upon religious life, and above all it has no destructive influence upon Christian life, but will shed light upon it, so that one can find in the Mystery of Golgotha which entered the evolution of the earth the eternal, supersensible significance which was bestowed upon humanity through this event. If we look upon the Mystery of Golgotha, religious enthusiasm and inner religious happiness will enter our feelings and in a moral way also our will, and this religious life cannot be destroyed, but can be illumined in the right way by the truths which we can see and comprehend in regard to Christ Jesus, and His entrance into the earthly development of humanity.

Spiritual science therefore tries to meet the search for the human being. As I already explained to you, this lecture is only meant to be a small contribution to the hoped-for and longed-for renewal of our modern culture. It only seeks to explain the way in which it is possible to view the significance, the deep, inner, human significance of the longings which can find expression in a problem such as the renewal of modern culture.

In my lecture I also wished to show you that this call for a renewal of culture is really at the same time a call for knowledge for the development of a new feeling of the true human nature. The problem dealing with the nature of this search which strives after a renewal of modern culture is one which really exists, and we must seek to gain a real feeling of the true being of man, a full experience of the human being. Perhaps it is justified to believe that we may interpret this call for a renewal of culture, a call which is in many ways not at all clear and distinct, by saying to ourselves: The striving human being is now confronted in a really significant way by the renewal of a problem which resounded in ancient Greece and which now re-echoes from there in the call: "O man, know thyself!"

Assuredly the noblest endeavors of hundreds and thousands of years have been spent in the attempt to solve this problem. To-day it is more than ever the greatest problem of destiny. No matter how individual persons may reply to the question, how are we to reach a renewal of culture (I think I indicated this to some extent) the answer will somehow have to lie in the following direction: How can we rediscover by a fully human striving man himself, so that in contact with his fellow-man (who in his turn should devote himself fully to the world and his fellows) man may once more find satisfaction in his ethical, social and intellectual life? This constitutes, I think, the problem dealing with a renewal of our modern culture.

Dear attendees, I must apologize again today for the cold that I brought with me yesterday and which has not yet been completely overcome, so I do not know how I will manage the lecture with my voice.

Now, dear listeners, when we listen to the most ancient voices that have emerged within the development of humanity with regard to the essence of man himself and the striving for knowledge of this human essence, it is without doubt one of the most significant sayings that we hear resounding from ancient Greece, for example: “Know Thyself”. When this injunction from the ancient seats of wisdom is addressed to man, it certainly does not mean that one should only bring one's bodily inner experiences to a kind of self-knowledge; rather, it means that man should strive to fathom his own being, that which constitutes his dignity as a human being, that which lies at the root of his destiny as a human being. And it can be said that ever since this word first resounded in human history, throughout ancient Greece and the Middle Ages, despite all its aberrations, right up to the present day, this word has become a guiding principle. And a large part of the scope of the human spirit's endeavors, a large part of what has been brought up from the deepest foundations of the soul's life, all of this has culminated in fathoming the human being itself in connection with the world being and with the development of the world.

And precisely in the heyday of natural science, in that period of the nineteenth century in which the greatest achievements of natural science were made, achievements that cannot be overestimated, in that period humanity, especially its most enlightened minds, increasingly came to despair of the possibility of such self-knowledge, such knowledge of the human being. People came to believe that human knowledge could only include that which could be expressed from material, sensual, visible experiences, insofar as one has to acknowledge that something lives and moves in the human being like a soul or spirit. because one thought one saw the limits of knowledge of nature in the right way – one said to oneself: one cannot approach this actual human being, this human consciousness, with real knowledge, which after all can only be knowledge of nature. And so doubt arose more and more about whether we could ever achieve what was set before humanity as the highest demand in the “know thyself!” of the ancient wisdom sites.

It can be said that if it were so, then man would have to renounce the fulfillment of that ancient demand; the possibility would be lost that man has firm ground for his soul life under his feet. It would be lost for man because the knowledge of his dignity and his essence, his destiny, would be lost; it would also be lost for man the possibility to develop a secure sense of purpose and a joyful, joyful, but also energetic desire to work in the world.

It was therefore no wonder that at a time when, on the one hand, science was increasingly drawing attention to the fact that it itself – and it believed that it was the only possible, scientific knowledge – could not arrive at a true knowledge of man , that because people actually cannot live without such self-knowledge in truth, they strove from the deep longing of their soul for such self-knowledge and for an understanding of the connection with the world by other means than the scientific ones.

And so, in modern times, the dissatisfaction with science itself led many people to feel an ever-increasing need to seek out mysticism. When science established its boundaries, the mystic believed that by immersing himself in the inner being of man, he could penetrate to the eternal core of this being, and thus to the point in the human being where man is connected to the divine-spiritual, where man is connected to the moral order of the world, and so on and so on.

It must be said that wonderful descriptions of inner experiences are often the result of this mystical contemplation. The mystics believe that in this way, and in many other ways, they are able to dispense with the clear scientific method of knowledge and to arrive at a satisfactory understanding of the relationship between man and the world only by delving into the inner being of man himself.

Between the two cliffs – the natural science on the one hand, the mystical on the other – the research of the world is placed, of which I was allowed to explain the principles of its search and striving to you yesterday, my dear attendees.

This research into a worldview is neither pure natural science, although – as I emphasized yesterday – it certainly wants to learn its cognitive discipline, its scientific responsibility, from natural science in its most exact form. But this spiritual research is also not mysticism; because precisely when one advances on those paths, which I described yesterday, to a real human self-knowledge, then one simultaneously discovers that what today is almost exclusively called mysticism is basically only a further deepening of the ordinary human memory or ability to remember. Understandably, only the mystics do not see through this more precisely. Whether the mystic draws what is from within from his own inner being or whether it comes from the often very, very dubious channels of mediumistic predisposition through other people, it is nothing other than a raising of that which, at some time or other, even if in the most hidden way, even if it has remained so unconscious , through external observation in ordinary life, has entered the soul and developed in the soul, but then submerged into the physical-bodily organization; so that the mystic fathoms nothing else than how his own memory representations have been transformed by the organic powers of the physical-bodily-etheric human being. The one who honestly engages in true soul and spiritual research in the way described yesterday comes to this conclusion.

If the one described yesterday is pursued further, then on the one hand it comes to grief on the cliff of natural science, but on the other hand also on the cliff of mere mysticism. Natural science rightly tells us from its point of view: There are certain limits that cannot be transgressed by the scientific method, by the combining intellect, by measuring, counting, calculating, by research with the scales. When science asserts these limits from its point of view, one must give it full credit, but only if it sticks to its assertion: With everything that can be found in this way, which respects the usual limits of knowledge of nature, one does not come close to man.

This is the first experience, dear attendees. Natural science introduces us in a wonderful way to the realms of external nature, insofar as they carry the purely natural-law entities within them. Natural science also leads us up to that which man carries within him of external nature, of his organization, which he absorbs from this external nature. Only, this external natural science removes us from man. It does not allow us to approach the true essence of the human being.

My dear audience, only by looking at this matter can we understand why we actually have scientific limits to our knowledge. How is it that we come to certain points that we cannot get beyond with scientific knowledge?

Now, as I said yesterday, probably to give the pure scientists a slight shudder, I pointed out that a force of the human soul can become a power of knowledge if it is developed further and further in the sense that I characterized it yesterday: that is the power of human love. Love can be developed in such a way that it can be connected to scientific research. What is the aim of scientific research? It wants to examine things and processes objectively. It wants man to add nothing of his own imagination or prejudices to the entities of nature, to the processes of nature, but to be able to disregard himself completely and let the things and entities of nature speak for themselves. That is the ideal of natural science.

The next step can no longer be taken theoretically, no longer through observation; the next step can only be seen in an even greater self-denial. One already practices self-denial when one excludes all prejudices, all subjective desires, and everything subjective in general, when researching nature. If you go a step further, you arrive at love as a power of knowledge, where you completely give yourself up and identify with the things and processes you want to explore. Then, by making love the power of knowledge, you take nature research a significant step further into the spiritual.

But this, dear attendees, also leads to the realization that all talk of the boundary still stems from a last remnant of human egoism, perhaps even from a very hidden human egoism. Man does not want to go out of himself. He wants to assert himself. He wants to remain firmly rooted in his ego. Therefore, he sets limits to his knowledge, which he does not want to exceed. When he says, “He wants,” he must go out of himself, must enter into the world, must make love the power of knowledge.

All the talk of limits to knowledge in the course of the nineteenth century was nothing more than the unnoticed emphasis: we as human beings also want to remain cognitively selfish; we do not want to go out of ourselves, we want to set ourselves limits that delimit our [nature], that we do not want to cross, into the nature of things.

Now, my dear attendees, once this knowledge emerges in humanity with the right feeling, in deep feeling and with the necessary will impulses, Talking about the limits of knowledge is the last remnant of human egoism, but it is the assertion of a well-hidden egoism, then the great impulse will actually be there to no longer regard the limits of science as insurmountable in relation to the spiritual. For transcending these limits then means nothing more than throwing off the last unnoticed and thus all the more stubbornly championed human egoistic forces.

I would say that there is a scientific-ethical trend, which on the one hand stands as a shining ideal of spiritual research in the face of the one obstacle – natural science. And I would say that the other obstacle – the mystical one – is tempting and seductive, because it is connected with what man needs to stand in life as an individual.

During his life on earth, the human being needs his memory. This memory must submerge into the physical organism. The memory thoughts make use of the physical organism. There the human being feels himself in his own being. And when he, as a mystic, conjures up the transformed memory image or when he allows himself to be conjured up through a medium, then he associates such inner pleasure, such inner satisfaction with what has been transformed through his own being that he likes to dwell on it and likes to indulge in the illusion: That which satisfies him so voluptuously from the depths of his own being – I would almost say – must also be connected with the most valuable thing in the world, it must point to the place where man is connected to the eternal sources of existence.

You see, dear readers, these are the reasons why spiritual research, as it is meant here and as I have to represent it to you, can neither stop at mere natural science nor fall back on mysticism; but this spiritual research realizes that mere natural science never comes close to man. Mere research into nature investigates the outer, uninhabited, and uninhabited world, and only comes to recognize: in this world of animal, inorganic, plant, animal organization, man is the final point - not a separate being - the most highly developed animal, the final point of extra-human development.

Natural science cannot escape from the world, nor can it lead to man. And mysticism enters into man, but it does not come from man; it does not come from man to the world; just as natural science does not come from the world to man, mysticism does not come from man to the world!

Cultivating knowledge of the world and knowledge of man by wrestling with the limits of science on the one hand, with what one has acquired as soul culture and soul discipline and scientific responsibility, and then immerses, [on the other side] like the true mystic, but now not in a dreamy way into one's own memory, but immerses with clear concepts, to which one surrenders — as I described it yesterday — in a strengthened and activated thinking. In this way one first arrives at a realization of what I described yesterday, not at first at an external knowledge of the world, not at an inner exploration of one's own human nature – insofar as the physical body is involved, as it always is in mysticism – but one arrives at the tableau of one's life, where one, as in a single moment, one sees what has been working in one as one descended from the spiritual world and was clothed with a physical, earthly body; one sees what arises as human self-knowledge, that mighty tableau of life in which one sees how one has found one's way in the course of one's life on earth out of one's inner forces, out of the forces of sympathy and antipathy to this or that person, out of one's way to this or that other event in life. In this tableau of life one feels for the first time lifted out of one's physical body. You grasp the higher human being, not yet the highest, but the higher human being, and you forget the physical organization for the moments of this realization, to which you naturally have to come back again and again.

Now, dear attendees, I explained yesterday, but at the same time, that one is able to ascend to a higher level of knowledge, that one is able to erase this self-knowledge, this tableau of life.

But then one comes to the realization of that which arises from the deep silence of the human soul, where everything has been eradicated, including that which makes up the earthly course of life. But then, when one maintains an alert consciousness with the inner silence of the soul, after one has wiped out not only all remaining ideas, but one's own soul content — as I explained yesterday — then one attains the insight of one's still higher human being: the one one was before one descended from the spiritual-soul world into the physical earth world. One arrives at an understanding of what one was in a purely spiritual-soul world among spiritual-soul beings, among whom one lived before one entered earthly existence, and how one lives here in earthly existence among people and among the other beings of the natural kingdoms.

Now, my dear attendees, such knowledge not only fills the human powers of perception, it not only fills the human mind. Yesterday I indicated how it comes from the whole person. Therefore, it also penetrates to the whole person. It teaches us about the human being in his development; it gives us the basis for guiding the development of the human being in the right way in earthly life. For we look up to that in man which has been drawn into the child, that is, into that which appears to us first in its physical organization, and which has been drawn into this physical organization of the child as a soul-spiritual being that has received from the parents the earthly, physical, bodily garment.

We, as educators, then stand before the developing human being with the awareness that in this developing human being, this spiritual-soul element, which he was before his earthly existence, reveals itself more and more in the physical-sensual from day to day, from week to week, from year to year. In this way, we learn to stand before the developing human being in a new way.

It is truly a wonderful thing to see how the child's features gradually become more and more distinct, how the chaotic movements with which the child enters the world from its innermost being become more and more distinct. Observing the developing child is like confronting the greatest mystery in the world. And this mystery dawns, it gradually dawns when one sees how, in this childlike physical organization, that which has descended from the spiritual and soul worlds permeates more and more the physical, molds it, I would say, as it does with the moral and hygienic. One learns to look at human development in a new way.

What belongs to such a way of looking at human development – if I may express myself in this way, ladies and gentlemen – is above all that inner courage of the soul, which ordinary natural science and also ordinary mysticism do not give, but which one learns to develop when, on the one hand, one unfolds the activated thinking, as I described it yesterday, but on the other hand, one also develops the deep silence of the soul. And finally, love as a power of knowledge. Then one has the courage to judge a person as science judges external natural things. Only something completely different comes out of such a, I might say truly natural, because it goes beyond the limits of ordinary science - if I may use the paradox - scientific spiritual research.

We look at the child and see very clearly how certain life epochs unfold in the child. We see how the child develops up to the significant stage of changing teeth around the age of seven.

Dear attendees! Just think about what a very remarkable thing it is that happens after the first life epoch of the human being when the teeth change. Do not think that the change of teeth is something that concludes with the first phase of a person's life. When a person gets their second teeth, they sprout and release forces from within that come to a conclusion with their second teeth. This is because a person does not undergo another change of teeth. It is a final event of its kind. You just have to look at things in the right way.

On the other hand, we must be clear about one thing: the forces that push and sprout forth in the teeth are rooted in the human organism as a whole. These are forces and impulses that interweave and permeate the whole human being during the first seven years of life. The change of teeth is an external manifestation, a symptom. But the whole human organism, the whole human being, comes to a conclusion with this event of the change of teeth. What is concluded there? From such a knowledge of the world and the human being, as I have described it yesterday and today, one gets the courage to now investigate these things in the right way. One says to oneself the following: Yes, but with this change of teeth, something tremendous also changes in relation to the human soul.

Thus, more and more – this can be seen by anyone who has learned to observe – more and more, as the change of teeth occurs around the seventh year, what can truly be called memory or remembrance arises. Now someone who has become quite clever in modern psychology will immediately come along and say: Yes, but we know that children have memory and recall even before the seventh year, that it is precisely at this time that memory is particularly well developed. That seems to be correct at first. But the person who asserts this is only basing it on things that he does not really understand, because in truth, around the seventh year, something quite different emerges from what we already call memory earlier, and we should only call it memory after the seventh year of life.

For what is it in a child up to the age of seven? It is a habitual performance of the same mental processes that it has practised, that it practises by imitating its environment. The fact that a constant representation occurs again and again in a child has the same reason as that a certain practised hand movement is performed again and again out of habit.

Everything we address as memory up to the seventh year is not actually memory, but soul habits. With the seventh year, these habits, these soul habits, become more refined and what we actually call memory becomes an inner movement through life phenomena, based on ideas. The first thing, which was still completely bound to the organism, functions together with the organism as habits of the soul, detaches itself in the seventh year and becomes first spiritual-soul-like.

You see, my dear audience, this gives us the opportunity to say: Yes, what lived in the child during the first period of life until the change of teeth, when, for example, the child's brain develops most plastically up to the age of seven, — then it is actually already essentially formed according to its inner demands —, what lives down there in the body? That, ladies and gentlemen, lives down in the body, which later emancipates itself from the body and becomes an independent soul-imagination, memory.

In external natural science today, we have the courage to speak of the fact that during certain processes in the body, heat remains hidden – latent heat, we say – because through certain processes this heat is released. We can measure it with a thermometer. We speak of bound and free heat. We cannot measure bound heat with a thermometer; we can measure free heat with a thermometer. The physicist has this courage of exploration for external processes. The spiritual researcher must receive it and make it applicable to practical life.

What we see in the child from the age of seven, from the year we start school, becoming more and more soul-like, more and more independent, was not yet so independent in the first seven years of life. It lived as growth forces within the physical body. It lived as formative, plastic forces within the physical body and ceases to live as a whole in the physical body when the change of teeth occurs.

You see, dear audience, once you become aware of such an important transition, of such a significant metamorphosis in human experience, then you also continue. Then you look at how the child is up to this change of teeth. And then you discover something very strange in this child. You discover that up until this change of teeth, the child is completely given over to the sense organs. The child is completely absorbed in its surroundings!

And if we want to compare it to something that is present in this childlike organization of the first epoch of life, then we must point, for example, to the human eye or the human ear – in short, to a sense organ. The child is entirely eye, entirely ear, in a soul-spiritual way! Just as the eye simply takes in what is around it and imitates it inwardly, so the child takes in every gesture, every word, everything that those around him allow to happen, and takes it in like a whole sense organ, imitating it inwardly. Therefore, everything that lives in the child's environment becomes part of the child's entire physical organization during the first seven years. The child takes everything in spiritually and mentally, and it becomes part of the physical organization.

Let us imagine: a father with a violent temper lives next to the child. Those who can observe these things can see how this father with a violent temper, who lives next to the child, is not only perceived by the child in such a way that the child sees the gesture of violent temper, that it is somehow repulsed by everything that comes out of a fit of anger, but the child feels the moral quality of the anger, what the anger morally carries as a value within itself! The child senses the moral qualities of its environment, with gestures, with what it experiences inwardly and imitates.

This, however, makes us aware of how we have to look at how the child really experiences the moral and intellectual aspects of his environment. We should be clear about the imponderable forces that are unfolding, so that we should not even allow ourselves to have impure or immoral thoughts around the child. For the child perceives precisely that which has an effect, especially in the first seven years, through the subtlest gestures, the twinkle of an eye, the emphasis of a word, and countless details that we, with our coarse adult intellects, cannot even imagine. And it carries this down into its physical organization.

What grows out of the father's violent temper or the mother's negligence does not become just any mental quality in the child; it becomes the density of the vascular walls, the efficiency or inefficiency of the blood circulation, in breathing, in the finest ramifications, in the finest activities. What the child acquires through imitation from its environment in the first seven years of life goes straight into the physical organism, in which even memory is only a habit that is tied to the physical organism. The soul and spirit emancipate themselves with the change of teeth. And when we get the child into school, this whole life of the child, as I have described it, enters into a different metamorphosis.

In the first years of life, the child is entirely a sensory organ. It attentively absorbs what is happening in its environment, whether in gestures or in these or those actions. The child is devoted to the actions of its environment, not only sensually but also morally! But with the change of teeth, the child begins to be more and more devoted to that which is no longer just a gesture or an action, but which reveals itself in the gesture, in the action, in a way that is appropriate to speech.

Dear attendees! Let us not only understand language – although that is the most important language – in terms of what we express externally with words, through phonetics, but let us understand language as everything we do in life – in that what we do becomes an expression of our human character – we understand everything that a person reveals about their own nature, how they reveal it through language, we have to say that the child becomes receptive to this linguistic expression of the other person, especially the educating person, the teacher, from the change of teeth to sexual maturity. A child is an imitative being in the sense described until it has changed all its milk teeth; from then until sexual maturity, the child is a being who lives entirely under the self-evident authority of whoever in his environment expresses himself verbally to him.

Dear Ladies and Gentlemen! You will not expect the man who wrote “The Philosophy of Freedom” thirty years ago and who is now speaking to you to develop any kind of unjustified reactionary-passive desire for you, or to speak of authority in an unjustified way. But precisely the person who wants to see freedom represented in human life as I have tried to present it in my “Philosophy of Freedom” already in the early nineties, knows that this right feeling of freedom, the right experience of freedom, can only come to people if the self-evident authority of teachers and educators is present in the child between the change of teeth and sexual maturity.

Today we no longer appreciate in the right way what it means for our whole later life to have looked up with deep reverence to what was given to us in the person of an educator in the form of truth, beauty and goodness. Between the ages of seven and fourteen, a person is not organized in such a way that truth, beauty and goodness can appear to him. At this age, the human being is organized in such a way that the true, the beautiful and the good must appear to him through the adult human being!

Later in life, when one has faced an unquestionable authority at this age, one has said, as a matter of course: something is true because this authority recognizes it as true; something is good because this authority recognizes it as good and presents it as such; something is beautiful because this authority finds it beautiful! The world must approach the child through the medium of the human being.

Dear attendees! In this way, one gradually learns to look at the human being in earthly life when one becomes aware, through the research method that I described yesterday – and today could only hint at – of the fact that a spiritual being lived before becoming a human being on earth through conception. We were all spiritual-soul beings among other spiritual-soul entities before we descended into earthly life. If we look at the developing human being in the right way, at what was its prenatal, pre-earthly existence, we also stand, I would like to say, with the right piety, but also with the right reverence for what is revealed and developed and revealed so wonderfully and so mysteriously from day to day, from week to week in the developing human being, in the child.

But then one also looks at what then presents itself as a connection between the spiritual-supernatural life of the human being and the physical-sensory life. One sees the child, how it, devoted to its surroundings, imitates these surroundings. And now we remember that we can only achieve the highest form of spiritual existence, which man can achieve through loving devotion, through the development of love as the power of knowledge, because man, by is in a spiritual-soul world before his earthly existence and after his death, knows how selfish he is here on earth, so he must then be devoted to the other spiritual beings.

When you understand how man is given over to the spiritual and soul world in the supersensible existence, you realize how man brings himself with him into childish existence, before he changes this around at the change of teeth or at sexual maturity, when he becomes more and more selfish and selfish, as he physically relives what he was in his pre-earthly existence. And now we learn to look at the child in the right way: How does the child actually live in the world? Even if it sounds paradoxical, one may say: The child lives completely devoted to its surroundings! But that is the religious feeling. That is to say: the child lives, I would say bodily-religiously; through its nature, through the elementary of its organization, the child is bodily-religiously devoted to its surroundings. This is the case until the second change of teeth; at that point, the child is completely given over to a religious devotion in his physical organization, to a religious devotion to his surroundings. You see, this becomes spiritual-soul in the second age between the change of teeth and sexual maturity.

We must be clear about the fact that what was, I might say, taken for granted – if I may use the paradox – as physical-religious disorganization, we must now, as teachers and educators, bring into the spiritual-soul. We educate this when we ourselves stand as the self-evident authority for truth, beauty, goodness before the child. Then we gradually bring it about that what was first in the body down below in the child, until the teeth change, works its way up into the spiritual and soul life. Then, as the child reaches sexual maturity, it becomes entirely spirit. It comes to us as that which we call religion in social human life.

How do we best establish this religion in social life when we understand human education in this way? We establish it best when we let the child imitate the right thing in the right way from the first years of life until the change of teeth, when we do not want to give it commandments, but when we stand before it in such a way that it can imitate us until the change of teeth, and after the change of teeth until sexual maturity, it can look to us as the model for truth, beauty, and goodness. Then the child develops in full freedom into a religious human being, in that with puberty the spiritual awakens from the soul-like, just as the soul awakens from the physical with the change of teeth. In this way we gradually learn to see how the human being develops, and we also learn to use such human development as an educational principle.

Dear attendees! Spiritual research, as described here, is not a theory; it leaves that to mere natural science, to those who are opponents of spiritual science today for quite understandable reasons, who consider themselves practical people. Their reasons are well known. For the spiritual researcher first familiarizes himself with what the opponents have to say. Only when he has become sufficiently familiar with this does he feel fully responsible for representing what grows out of the soil of spiritual research itself.

Spiritual research aims to be thoroughly practical, to bring a full life into practice. But when it comes to a full life, people who think they are particularly clever in a materialistic sense are about as clueless as a farmer who finds a horseshoe-shaped piece of iron. Someone says to him: “Yes, look, that's a magnet, it attracts another iron, it can be used for all kinds of important things!” “Oh well,” says the farmer, “magnet? I don't see any magnet, I'll shoe my horse with it!” That's how the theoretical materialists seem, who don't want to know anything about spiritual research. They see everything as a horseshoe because they see nothing of the magnet! The supersensible is only hidden for those who only want to see the outwardly materialistic. If one really wants to be practical, if one wants to use the forces of the world in the right way in the progress of culture and civilization, then one must be able to really shine a light into the physical-material in the indicated way.

That is why spiritual research, I would say, did not get stuck in theory because of its destiny. Through the forces that have been developed out of social thinking by Emil Molt in Stuttgart, we were able to found the Waldorf School in Stuttgart, where it is really shown how an educational practice can be developed out of the consciousness of the full, spiritual, moral and religious human nature, which really takes into account the development of the human being as a whole.

This Waldorf school was founded a little over three years ago with about 150 children. Today, it has well over 700 children in six classes, and we have to run most classes in parallel classes. And the teachers, who now number many, are trying to educate the human being from out of the fullness of humanity so that the person can then grow into practical life out of this fullness of humanity.

For the spiritual science that is advocated here – I already spoke about it yesterday – grows out of the full nature of the human being, and therefore it does not want to stop at theoretical descriptions, but wants to flow directly into life, I would say.

Allow me to illustrate this with a particular example in a few concluding sentences. Spiritual science, as it is represented here, has been represented by me for more than two decades. I have been allowed to speak here in Kristiania for many years about the most diverse subjects of this spiritual science.

Now, after a decade of spiritual science, the idea arose in certain individuals who had devoted themselves entirely to the truth of this spiritual science with their common sense. These individuals were approached with the idea of building a structure for this spiritual science. In particular, my mysteries were to be used to express artistically what now flows not in some kind of straw symbolism or allegory, but from a truly artistic source, but from the same source as the idea of spiritual science — that is what I tried to present in my mysteries. At first they had to be performed in ordinary theaters. But this was to change through these personalities, who had devoted themselves to spiritual science in the way described and wanted to make their sacrifices in order to erect a building of their own for it. This building was to be erected for the cultivation of this spiritual science and especially for the performance of my mystery dramas. Destiny brought this building to Dornach near Basel in Switzerland, in the northwestern region of Switzerland: Dornach, near Basel.

Dearly beloved attendees! If any other spiritual movement had been in such a position that it wanted to build a house, a home, for the cultivation of that which it wants to cultivate in the world, it would have gone to some architect and had a building erected in an antique or Renaissance style or Rococo style - in any style, for that matter - and its world view would have been represented in it. This could never happen with anthroposophical spiritual science if one was true to it with one's whole being. Why not?

Well, spiritual science wants to be something that unfolds in ideas only in one direction; but it is not based in theories, it is not based in ideas, it is based in living spiritual life, in that living spiritual contemplation of the world and man, as I have described it yesterday and today.

So, my dear audience, three branches come out of the same source: there comes out the one branch – knowledge – which expresses itself in ideas. There comes out the second branch – art – which expresses itself in forms, in the form of sounds, of colors, of sculpture, in architectural forms. There comes forth the third branch – the religious-ethical, the moral branch.

Anthroposophy as a science does not want to found a sect or establish a religion. But it leads to the source from which religious life also flows, and the artistic flows from the same source. I have often used the following image:

Imagine, dear audience, a nut in a shell. You cannot imagine that the nut is surrounded by a shell that is built around it from the outside; rather, the shell must also be there, formed from the same forces and laws of form as the nut itself. You can see it in the nutshell: it is already formed according to the same laws of form as the nut itself.

This is life, where everything that arises arises from the same impulses, from the same laws of form.

Anthroposophical spiritual science is not abstraction, it is life that lives itself out, as I have described it, in education; that lives itself out in the social; that lives itself out in the religious. In the sense that a house is to be built for it, it is the nut, and the house must be built according to the same formal laws, must have its own style, which is not, for example, an artistically symbolic realization of an idea – that would be mere symbolist nonsense – but it must be a real, genuine artistic creation. The second branch can come from the same sources as anthroposophy comes from for its ideas.

And so, in connection with the fact that I myself gained the basis for my research from Goethe, the Goetheanum was built near Basel — a ten-year project — built in such a way that with every pillar, pillar, in every architrave piece, in every color scheme, in everything that could be seen, one could see the right artistic environment for what was being done from the podium in this building, which was designed for 900 people.

When one stood on the podium and spoke, one felt how the word one had to coin in order to bring spiritual vision before the listeners, one felt how this word is coined as an idea out of the idea, in exactly the same way as — and this may be said by the one who has worked out in wax every single detail in the model worked out in wax everything that has been built in Dornach may say —, how that which has stepped out to meet people outwardly visible in forms and colors; who heard the words from the podium in this Goetheanum itself, who saw the eurythmy artists unfold their art of movement, who heard reciting there, who saw anything else performed there, saw that what was happening and being spoken on stage and podium was just the other form of what the building forms, the architectural, the pictorial forms showed. And when the music sounded from the organ at the other end, the musical tones that filled the room were only a further expression of what was found in the column forms, in that which had found expression in the form and colors of the entire building. In short, this building for the anthroposophical worldview could not be built as an external Renaissance, Rococo, Gothic or classical shell. A new architectural style had to be created because anthroposophy is not a one-sided theory, but is that which can emerge on [the one hand] in all ideas of knowledge, which can emerge as art. And as art, as a performing art, it should now be expressed in one's own home.

It must be emphasized again and again: Anthroposophy does not want to found a new religion, does not want anything sectarian, wants to proceed in the same purely objective, purely legal way as any other scientific direction. But by penetrating with real scientific exactness, but with spiritual-scientific insight, it also penetrates to the source of religiosity.

This led to the desire to place a [nine and a half] meter high wooden group at one of the most prominent points in the Goetheanum, with Christ Jesus himself as the central figure. So now, my dear attendees, a worldview should be given through anthroposophy that recognizes as its ideal the embodiment of the human mystery of Golgotha at one of the most prominent points in its home, through anthroposophy. This is a form of knowledge that has a religious aspect in its objectives, although it does not want to establish itself as a sect or religion, but wants to remain on the ground of the artistic, on the ground of knowledge.

Dear attendees! When I was last able to speak here in Kristiania, I was able to think of the Home for the Spirit of Science in Dornach with different thoughts, because this home was destroyed by fire on New Year's Eve 1922/1923, burnt down to the concrete foundations, and a is now standing on the spot where it once stood, the thing that, in its outer forms, has brought about a revelation for thousands upon thousands of visitors over the years, the thing that could be said from the bottom of one's heart about human eternity, human development on earth, about human being and world being and world knowledge.

It is self-evident that the small insurance sums that we may receive after the legal investigations into the Dornach fire have come to an end will not be sufficient to rebuild this building, the Goetheanum. And we live in different circumstances today than we did before the war, when numerous people who professed to be engaged in anthroposophical spiritual research were truly willing to make deep sacrifices to make it possible to rebuild the Goetheanum. And again and again, such friends have come forward to help. How the Goetheanum can be rebuilt will depend on whether, in the present difficult world situation, the same sacrifices will be possible as were possible before. It must be rebuilt in some form, because it was intended to visibly express what anthroposophical spiritual research wants to say about the deepest longings of contemporary man.

I said it yesterday as well: in the people of the present, in numerous people of the present — for it is a deepest longing, even if they do not know it, even if it only lives in subconscious feelings and sensations — there is the urge to rediscover the spiritual, to reconcile faith with knowledge again. This was to be expressed outwardly through the forms of the Goetheanum.

Now, this is also expressed outwardly in the forms of the human being itself. But that which is physical and sensual - my dear audience - can be grasped by the material flames and thus perish like the Dornach Goetheanum. In the same way, the physical and sensual shells of the human being also perish. But spiritual science shows us how an eternal core of the human being descends from spiritual and soul worlds, only enveloping itself in the physical shell, and passes through the gate of death again in order to live on in the spirit.

What is said about the spiritual being human is expressed in the thoughts of anthroposophy, which also seeks to be spiritual. In the mortal building — whose passing is so painful to us, so melancholy, us who have grown so fond of this building, this structure — that had its mortal outer work, as man himself in relation to his true being in his earthly body has his mortal outer work.

Anthroposophy, however, seeks to speak of the eternal in man, but to speak in such a way that this very eternal can be fully realized in a truly practical way — as I have indicated today for a certain point — in the most diverse areas of life. To fully realize the eternal in the temporal, to be practical in all spirituality, that is what real anthroposophical spiritual knowledge strives for.

It will show that the deepest longings of the human soul can indeed be fulfilled more and more over time. And this spiritual knowledge can wait. It knows that the Copernican system was also first considered foolishness, but later became a matter of course. So Anthroposophy knows that it can well be considered foolishness by many people today. It will also wait and it can wait! It will also become a matter of course. For it speaks of what must be close to the human being when he, truly feeling, wants to turn again to the ancient, I would say sacred demand: “Know thyself!” If this great and mighty word of truth and warning is to be developed in any way in a modern form, then man must come to a knowledge of the world that shows through supersensible vision how the spiritual speaks from all realms of nature, from clouds and stars, from the movements of clouds and stars, how this world, which in truth can only be recognized when it is recognized in spirit, ultimately says: “I have achieved my goals in the human being.” Knowledge of the world is only complete in knowledge of man. And knowledge of man is not seen in mystical confusion and with mystical illusions, but as I have described it yesterday and today, in order to fathom man's being. Thus, by fathoming the human being, one comes to recognize the spiritual and soul nature of the human being, before and after death, when the human being is poured out into the world, despite having a higher self-awareness than here on earth; in true knowledge of the human being, one discovers world beings in the human being. Just as there is no true knowledge of the world without knowledge of man, because the world shows that its goal is man, so there is no true knowledge of man without seeing in man an image of the whole world, without penetrating through knowledge of man to knowledge of the world in the spirit.

This is what is already unconsciously seen today as a scientific, moral, and religious striving at the bottom of many human souls. This is what troubles many human souls today without them knowing it. This is what anthroposophical knowledge of the human being and the world wants to speak about, so that what the human being of the present, but especially the human being of the near future, will really need, will arise: truly genuine knowledge of the human being through true spiritual knowledge of the world, real, genuine knowledge of the world that is suitable for social work and religious feeling, through genuine, true knowledge of the human being that has been grasped in the spirit.