The Rudolf Steiner Archive

Today we are going to consider something from the point of view of spiritual science that may be said to be of eminent value if it is taken the right way. We are going to talk about some aspects of nutrition and healing. More than with any other kind of subject you’ll have to remember, however, that all we can do is aphoristically take individual details from an infinitely vast field and that it is extremely difficult to speak about these things at this time in a language that everyone can understand. We can therefore only consider these things in an approximate way, for in this kind of wider group I am speaking not only to the initiate who would be in a position to sense the true value of every word that is spoken.

In occult schools whose members are already at a higher level one can agree to use a specific way of saying things, so that a particular word will express a specific feeling impulse. All such things—and today we can only touch on them lightly—often have different meanings in ordinary life. But an attempt will nevertheless be made to speak about these matters, seeing that they are also of practical value. People who do not believe that effects arising from causes that lie in the world of spirit are much more powerful than the effects you get in the outer physical world will not gain much from it, however. Many will admit, in theory, that something we must call spirit, something that has a powerful influence in the world, has powers similar to those of electricity, magnetism, and so on. The science of the spirit finds itself in all kinds of positions in modern cultural life. Above all it is misunderstood by people who conservatively want to have life continue along old-established lines and also by the many people who want to bring about reforms in all kinds of areas. All these different groups of people come to the science of the spirit and consider it only natural that the science of the spirit should come to them and not they to the science of the spirit. It will of course be easy to see that someone who is a radical protector of animals will not make his energies and experience available to the spiritual scientific movement but will get really angry if all theosophists do not immediately join the animal protection movement. This is something you’ll see in all kinds of specific areas. And it is, of course, perfectly natural. But the theosophical movement is something that is universal. It relates to the different individual movements the way an architect’s plans relate to the work of the carpenters, masons, skilled craftsmen of all kinds who are working on the house. The latter are individual workers. But the person who is in charge of the building project must ask the workers to come to him to be given their particular instructions. This is also why it is not acceptable for other movements—homoeopaths, teetotallers and others—to ask that the science of the spirit should come to them. Instead, all the specialist areas must be part of the spiritual scientific movement which must aim for basic reform in a
spheres of life, but from within.

The position of theosophy in relation to science in particular is readily misunderstood. Not only do scientists believe theosophists to be against them, not wanting to have anything to do with them. Even friends of theosophy have this opinion. Above all physicians who have had a scientific training and are working to meet official requirements will easily develop the prejudice that theosophy does not involve scientific methods and therefore does not go with science. That is not the case, however.

Today you keep hearing slogans, nothing but slogans, from people. There is some justification for having specialists. But it is not the representatives of specialist fields but mainly their followers who use such slogans. One of them is one I'd particularly like to mention. You often hear that the public practically freeze with horror if you use the term ‘poison’. It seems perfectly sensible to say that no poison should ever get into the body. And people like to talk about ‘natural medicine’ in that case. But what do we really mean by ‘natural’? and by ‘poison’? The effect which the belladonna poison has on the human organism is natural, a purely natural effect. Nature does, of course, include all actions that come under the laws of nature. And what is a poison? Water is a powerful poison if someone consumes it by the bucketful, for it will then prove most destructive. And arsenic is a very good thing if you use it in particular combinations. What we need, therefore, is a truly thorough study of the human organism and the things to be found in the natural world outside.

Paracelsus⁷² was very specific about the way particular processes in the human body relate to those in the natural world outside, for instance cholera to arsenic. He called someone with cholera an ‘arsenicus’, for he knew that the same factors played a role in arsenic and cholera and he also perceived how things harmonize. We thus have a natural process which must first be understood.

Something else that proves an obstacle in the matter of entering into dialogue with scientists is the materialistic way of thinking. This has distorted people’s views on all the matters we are concerned with here. Remember what has been said about the effects of some metals on the human organism.⁷³ Someone may say the science of the spirit is pure materialism when it is said that the powers inherent in minerals and metals have material effects on the human organism. But in the science of the spirit we also know that material things have a particular relationship to the spirit. Someone who truly speaks for a spiritual view of the world will have realized that substances like these are not just matter and that spirit and soul dwell in them just like in a creature that lives in a skin. That is the sense in which a theosophist will speak of the spirit embodied in gold, in quartz or in belladonna poison. To the occultist, the world is full of spiritual entities. The spirit embodied in lead has the relationship to the human organism you heard me speak of yesterday. For theosophists it is not a matter of looking for some kinds of peculiar spiritual entities that have nothing at all to do with our world, but rather for entities that are present in every piece of metal and indeed in everything there is in the world around us. That is how one sees the spirit in matter from the point of view taken in the science of the spirit. Spiritual analogies are something based on genuine spiritual research.

We are not therefore in opposition to expert knowledge. There have to be specialist fields, and we must not ignore the outer facts. But it is impossible to gain a comprehensive point of view concerning the world on the basis of specialist knowledge. A medical practitioner is also a person and as such needs to know something of the higher worlds. He will then arrange his work in a very different way from someone who knows nothing of the great scheme of things, for he will then also rate symptoms differently. A single observation or experience may well be taken to be something quite minor if one has an overview of the whole. Just as everyone working in the sphere of culture has to meet certain preconditions, so the future will demand physicians who know the science of the spirit. An example would be Hahnemann, the founder of homoeopathy. The difference between Paracelsus and Hahnemann is enormous. The 16th-century physician was still clairvoyant to some extent. Hahnemann was no longer clairvoyant. He was only able to assess the actions of medicines by what his senses told him.⁷⁴

An analogy may be found for the relationship we are speaking of between the human being and the creatures and objects of the natural world. It is the relationship between the sexes, which is largely governed by sympathy. It is a mysterious attraction that brings the sexes together, a power at work in the sphere of life. It should not be taken to be something mystical in the bad sense of the word that one particular man feels drawn to one particular woman. Someone who trains himself to be an occult observer of the world has a similar relationship to all living things around him, one that may be called universal. Just as there is a specific relationship between the one man and the one woman, so there is a specific relationship between one person of the kind I am speaking of and the phenomena in the world around him. People who have developed these powers gain knowledge that lets them perceive the connection that exists between a particular thing and the human being. And this then also leads to insight into the actions of medicinal powers.

Paracelsus did not have to try things out first, no more than a magnet which attracts iron needs to try it out. He was able to say that a particular healing power lay in the red foxglove. Such knowledge will only be regained when a physician realizes that it is a matter not only of intellectual understanding but of one’s inner attitude to life; when he knows that he himself must become a completely different person. When he has transformed his temperament, his character, the whole tenor of his soul, then and only then can he develop the power of vision and understanding for the powers in the world that harmonize the human being. This will be possible in a future that it not too far off. The view of the world held in the science of the spirit must above all offer particular principles, some of which will be mentioned now, after this more general view. Anyone who is willing can gain much from this.

Four elements are involved in this. The first is that there is a connection between the process we call digestion and the process we call thinking activity, in other words, what digestion is at a lower level, thinking activity is in a higher sphere. In the human organism, as it lives on the physical plane, the two are intimately connected. Let me give you a piece of real evidence of this. It is part of thinking activity that one must be able to draw logical conclusions, seeing how one concept evolves from another. This is a quite specific part of thinking activity. You can do exercises to make this thinking activity follow a particular course. The process such exercises bring about at soul level, in your thinking activity, is brought about by a particular substance in the digestive process, and that is coffee. This is no wild assumption, it is a fact that can be proved. What you do to your stomach with coffee is the same as you do to your thinking with practical exercises in logic. If you take coffee, you encourage logical consistency in your thinking. And if it is said that taking coffee enhances the activity which is needed to strengthen one’s thinking, this may well be true. But coffee only encourages consistency in one’s thinking in a way that shows dependence; it is acting as if under compulsion. You feel a certain lack of independence in you, something like an influence coming from outside. Someone who wants to be consistent in his thinking but also to remain dependent, may drink a lot of coffee. But if he wants to be independent in his thinking, he must free himself from the very things that act on his lower nature; he must develop powers in himself that come from the soul. He will then also find that his stomach functions properly again, or continues to function properly, after the exercises in question.

Something else. The opposite of well-ordered thinking activity is the kind of thinking that cannot stay with a thought, a thinking that lacks a sound basis. This, too, has its correlate in the action which a particular substance has on the digestion, a substance contained in tea. Tea does indeed act on our lower functions as something which causes all flightiness in one’s thinking in the upper human being. You may conclude from this that some of the harmful effects of tea can be quite disastrous on occasion. But do not think that someone who takes tea all his life will finally have to be quite scatty inwardly. If tea does not have that kind of harmful effect on him this merely proves that his organism has sufficient powers of resistance.

Just as digestive functions correspond to active thinking, so do the functions of the heart and blood relate to the life of the will and of appetites; every influence brought to bear on the blood by certain substances such as certain foods will have its correspondence in an active will. This can be observed especially by considering the reverse. You often hear today that the notion of it being possible to heal someone with thoughts is something that has long since been overcome; that it is not possible, for instance, to cure someone suffering from religious mania or also persecution mania by means of correspondingly opposite thoughts. What one sees on the outside is only a symptom, and if one were able to remove this symptom the disease would shift to another organ and take a different form. Occultists have known this fact established in materialistic medicine for a long time. An occultist would never dream of trying to cure a delusion by an idea that is its opposite. But it is a different story if one intervenes much more deeply, using occult means to influence the original cause. Let us assume someone has become sick in the sphere of the will and appetites; this would be due to disorders affecting particular organs. Not only the heart comes into this, but some other things that are also connected. A materialistic physician will say: ‘I cannot cure the situation which shows itself here by teaching the patient the right ideas.’ But you have to consider that there are not just two things to be considered in the organism, not only the material basis and the life based on it; there is a third element, and the occultist knows this. Yes, an organic function lies behind immediate soul activity on the physical plane, that is, behind the things that come to expression in will impulses. But behind this organic activity lies the third element, which is that the organ has been created by the spirit, it has developed out of something that is spiritual. And it is this spiritual principle behind the organ, having created it, which we must consider. To try and give someone suffering from religious mania the right ideas will serve no purpose. But if your influence on this person is such that you address the creator of the organ function—which is the ether body—you can achieve something, not with ideas but by doing something which on the surface seems to have no connection at all with the life of ideas.

To understand this, let us consider the concept of a religious truth. You can approach the idea of the religious truth in such a way that you grasp it. This is all that is needed for the rational mind. But you can understand as many ideas as you like, this will have no effect at all in your organic life—life in the ether body as well as the physical body. It is also of no avail to try and teach a patient right ideas from conviction, for this will have no effect at all on his will activity. But if you don’t think of this truth as something that works only in terms of the rational mind, but say to the person: ‘You need to grasp this not just once, but you must let these ideas influence you again every day; they have to be repeated rhythmically day after day, and this needs to go hand in hand with quite specific feelings and images.’ To do something once has no effect. But if it happens regularly for quite some time, then it will have an effect that also reaches the organic constitution. This is what we call concentration and meditation. So you don’t influence people with just teaching them something. But if you give instructions and they follow them daily for many weeks you will influence them a little bit, for you will reach the principle that is behind the organ, its creator. Occultism does not have a different basis from the scientific approach to medicine, but there is greater knowledge. It is of course not yet possible to make these ideas publicly known.

Our breathing function is connected with the life of feeling and of the senses in the widest possible sense. You can discover many things if you get a clear picture of everything connected with the breathing function and how this can influence the life of feeling and of the senses. Breathing depends on sufficient oxygen getting into the blood and organic matter being maintained by this. People who take pleasure in things of the mind, who have a life of the spirit that puts them in a cheerful frame of mind and influences them all the time—such people influence their organs out of the spirit in a way that brings health.

Going back again to digestion and thinking activity, we shall find that this is a field where much needs to be done. It has to be understood that humanity must change more and more to a deliberate way of feeding itself. People seeking to gain knowledge in this field do, however, often fall into a particular error. They want to learn too much of what they call ‘nature’; they want to follow ‘nature’ and ‘nature’ only. Paracelsus said: 'We should not be subservient to nature. A physician has to pass nature’s examination, it is true, but he must be an artist, he must take nature further',⁷⁵ And he did not think the right medicines were things taken straight from nature but new products created in the spirit of nature. He believed a time would come in medicine when such new products would be the truly effective medicines. It is solely and entirely a matter of taking nature further in this field.

People wanting to give reasons today why a mixed diet is best in their view tend to say that herbivores are ruminants and have a special stomach and digestive tools for this. Carnivores, they’ll say, are predators with digestive tools and teeth made for meat-eating. In their view, human teeth and digestive tools are half-way between those of ruminants and predators, so that nature herself destined humanity to have a mixed diet. But everything in the world is in a state of flux, changing and growing. What matters is not the way human beings look today but how they may change. If people change to a vegetable diet, the organs more designed for meat eating will gradually disappear and the organs needed for a vegetable diet will develop. You have to consider how things were in the past and how they can be in future. We are therefore not giving human beings the right diet if we consider their present state but only if we take account of their inner development and change. Statistics and external facts will only give you the existing condition, they do not show the direction in which humanity must go. One must look at the world on a larger scale to some extent.

Take the national character of Russian country people, as they are today, and that of English people. Russian country people will put as little emphasis as possible on the I. The opposite is the case with English people. You can even see this from the way they write the word. English people use a capital I. Further investigation will show that sugar consumption is five times as high in England as it is in Russia. Once again we have mutual correspondence between digestive activity and thinking activity. The process brought about in the digestion by taking in relatively large amounts of sugar has its correlate in greater independence of thinking in the upper human being.

Now as you can imagine, it is also possible to take corrective measures in this sphere. Some people may make their diet such that they need only a short time to digest it, while others may well spend a long time on the process. This again allows us to see deeply into the human organism. For if someone eats rice and has soon finished digesting it, energies are left over that will then be available for thinking activity. Someone else who may be eating wild duck, for example, and needs a correspondingly longer time to digest it may well be intelligent; but when he produces thoughts it is in reality his stomach which is thinking. One person may not be a great thinker but may think independently, another a great thinker but dependent in his thinking. You can also learn something from this.

To mention something else. Great care must be taken to give the body neither too much nor too little protein. It is most important to find the right measure, for proteins in our digestion correspond to the generation of ideas in our thinking. The same activity which makes our thinking fruitful is evoked by proteins in the lower organism. If the body does not receive a balanced amount of protein, the proteins will cause an excess of energies in the lower bodily functions that correspond to the functions which in the upper organization create ideas. Human beings should, however, be more and more in control of their ideas. Protein intake should therefore be kept within limits; otherwise people are overcome by idea-creating activities from which they should really be free. Pythagoras was thinking of this when he told his students not to eat beans.

Now people will of course come and say: ‘Look at the rice eater. He’s a poor thinker.’ Well that person eating his rice has not yet developed. The point is not one of knowing the rules, thinking that everyone merely has to follow them. If the lower and the upper do not agree, this, too, may create havoc. Think of someone who has recently taken up vegetarianism. Activity in the lower man then is of a quite specific kind. Certain energies change from material powers into those of mind and spirit, but they can grow harmful if left unused and may even limit brain activity. If you then do not occupy yourself in any other way than a banker, for example, or with ordinary book learning, you can cause yourself a lot of damage unless you take up spiritual ideas with the powers saved by a vegetarian lifestyle. A vegetarian must therefore also take up life in mind and spirit, otherwise he’d do better to remain a meat eater, for his memory might suffer, certain parts of the brain may be damaged, and so on. It is not enough to feed on fruits to have the most sublime realms of life in the spirit open up to you.

Another correspondence in the organism is the following. The function in the upper organism which corresponds to reproductive capacities is the visionary element, as it is called, and thus in a way also inner imaginative activity. This is why some religious orders used to demand a degree of asceticism, which, however, was also a source of great dangers. These can only be avoided by purity in the inner life, trust in one’s own individual nature, and the ability to maintain composure in all life situations. If one does not give oneself up to affects and external influences, one is secure in this area and will be able to avert harmful influences.

White magic demands not only a pure life, but also one that is strong and certain, with the inner life firmly in control and the ability to maintain composure in all situations. If on the one hand you have so much self-control that nothing can take you aback, then you will also be secure inwardly, and be able to cope more easily with falls from grace.

A new era can come if people resolve to make theosophical wisdom their guide in all these things. In future it will be necessary, for instance, to see how one can transform certain powers that become available in the organism into powers that can be used to gain spiritual insight. One day a substance will be produced in laboratories that will be of greater value than milk. Even now it would be perfectly possible to establish a food laboratory and thus gain influence on the feeding of the nations. But a time will come when those who study the science of the spirit will be doing chemical work that is in harmony with evolving nature and not with nature as it has come to be. Goethe thus said:

Gaze on them as they grow, see how the plant
Burgeons by stages into flower and fruition.⁷⁶

Please accept these few aspects taken from a vast field and consider that they need to be developed. You will then see that you can gain nourishment for mind and spirit from these things and discover the practical significance they may have for you.

• 72. Paracelsus (see note 62). 'From the external put together the whole human being: thus you find in the same the evident corpora of all materia, and find in these all species of the parts, of health and sickness, and also all their essences ... It arises from this that you should not say: that is cholera, that is melancholia, but: that is an arsenicus, that is an aluminosum. And also: he is of Saturn, he of Mars: not: he is of melancholy, he is of cholera. For one part belongs to heaven, one part to earth, and are mingled as fire and wood are, where each may lose its name, then they are two things in one.' From Das Buch Paragranum, edited and introduced by Dr Franz Strunz, Leipzig 1903, S 29 f. On Paracelsus, see the lecture given in Berlin on 26 April 1906 (in GA 54): Paracelsus, Anthroposophical News Sheet 1941; 9:37-40.
• 73. See preceding lecture in this volume (21 October 1906).
• 74. 'The appropriateness of a medicine... depends not only on being the right homoeopathic choice, but also on the dose being of the right degree of magnitude, or rather smallness... Here the question arises as to what this appropriate degree of smallness may be ... Pure experiment, careful observation and experience alone will determine it.' Hahnemann, Samuel, Organon der rationalen Heilkunde, Dresden 1810, paragraphs 300 ff.
• 75. 'How can the medicine be reconciled with such things, that the physician might reasonably call himself a physician? He is therefore subordinate to nature, and God is the lord of nature.'
  'Now the physician comes from the medicine, and not from himself, and he must therefore pass nature's examination, nature being the world and all it encompasses. And what nature teaches him he must entrust to his wisdom; yet he should not seek anything in his wisdom, but solely in the light of nature, and then keep safe what he has learned in the cell of that same vessel.'
  Theophrastus Paracelsus, Volumen Paramirum und Opus Paramirum, published by Dr Franz Strunz, Jena 1904, S. 74, 85.
  'Then nature is so subtle and accurate in its things, that it cannot be used without great skill. For it will not reveal anything that is in a perfect state; man has to perfect it. This perfection is called Alchimia.'
  'Thus the physician must furthermore be skilful. One who wishes to be skilful must have experience in everything, for the foundation of your skills goes beyond the realm of the arts; it is not the foundation of teaching but of your understanding in the skills needed for medicines.'
  Das Buch Paragranum (see note 72), S. 70, 105.
• 76. Metamorphosis of Plants, 17/18 June 1798.

Initiation makes it possible for a person to gain insight into higher worlds. It is a process of development in the inmost soul. Different people take different paths, but the truth is the same for all of them. Having reached the summit of a mountain you have an open view in all directions. But it would be quite nonsensical not to take the path to the top that is nearest to the point where we actually are. And it is the same with initiation. Once we have reached our goal and truly gained an open view, the insight gained will be the same for all.

It is not good, however, for someone to take a route other than the one that suits his nature. There should really be a separate path for every individual. All of them do, however, fall into one of three types—the yoga path, gnostic and Rosicrucian Christian initiation. One of these three different routes may be taken. They differ because there are three kinds of human beings. Only few Europeans can take the Oriental yoga route. It therefore is not right, as a rule, for a European to take that route. People live in an entirely different climate in the Orient, where the light of the sun is completely different. The anatomical differences between Orientals and Europeans are not easily demonstrable, but the difference in soul and spirit is profound, and this must be taken into account, for inner development intervenes deeply in the soul and spirit nature of a person. Anatomists cannot perceive the finer structure of the Hindu brain. But if you were to ask of a European the things that can be asked of an Indian, you would destroy him. An Indian may be asked to do certain things which serve no purpose at all for a European and may even be bad for him. Above all the yoga path makes one basic demand on pupils that has to be met if the path is to be taken at all. It demands the strict authority of a teacher, who is called a guru. To take that path one must accept the guru's directions in every detail of life. Quite apart from that, the Indian yoga route can hardly be taken unless one tears oneself away from the external conditions of life. It is necessary, you see, to make all kinds of external arrangements that will support the exercises one is given. If you experience things that make a deep impression on your feeling life, this will have a profound influence on you as you are going through occult inner development. The Oriental yoga pupil must therefore ask his guru about every detail of his life. To make any change whatsoever in his life, he must first ask the guru for direction. The yoga path therefore requires absolute subjection to a guru. You have to learn to see things through the guru's eyes, and to feel the way he does. It is impossible to follow this path unless there is profound trust, perfect love, combined with utter trust and an unconditional surrender that has precedence over everything else.

For the gnostic Christian path there is only one great teacher, the central guru. What is needed is belief in Christ Jesus himself not only his teachings. A gnostic Christian pupil must be able to believe that the one and only sublime divine individual spirit was incarnated in Christ Jesus, an individual spirit that cannot be compared with any other, not even the highest. All other individuals started at a lower level on earth and then ascended, examples being Buddha, Hermes, Zoroaster and Pythagoras, and their spiritual stature is the result of many earlier incarnations. This is not the case with Christ Jesus. He cannot be compared with any other individual, with anything else on earth. It would be impossible to follow the gnostic Christian path unless one believes this.

A third path is the Rosicrucian Christian one. There the teacher is the counsellor who essentially limits his counsel to the actual measures taken for spiritual development. This spiritual development must be organized in such a way that it has a deep-reaching influence on the life of the individual. A teacher must always be present for initiation. There is no serious initiation without a teacher. Anyone who wants to say there is, would be saying something as silly as someone who thought it was possible for a child to be bom without the two sexes playing a role. Initiation is a spiritual fertilization process which would in fact be harmful if it were not brought about in such a dual relationship between teacher and pupil.

The Indian yoga path is in seven stages. The sequence is not always the same, however. Different stages may be combined, in a way. It is not necessary to go through stages 1 to 7 in that order. It may happen that one is asked to take something from somewhere in the sequence earlier on, and an exercise may be given that relates to another stage. It depends on the individual concerned. A pupil may do this in a few years, or even a few months. Asked how long initiation takes, Subba Row¹⁴⁸ said it may be 70 incarnations or 7, some need 7 years, others may need 7 months, or 7 days, or indeed 7 hours. It depends entirely on the spiritual maturity of the person. Spiritual maturity shows itself sooner in some and needs longer in others. This is a matter of karma. We may well ask why someone may not be outstanding in this respect though he may have reached a very high level of spirituality in an earlier existence. There may be obstacles in his physical or soul nature. The teacher's task is above all to remove such obstacles. The physiognomy of a person in ordinary life has nothing to do with it. An earlier incarnation may lie hidden deep down in the soul and be unable to emerge because of some kind of obstacle or other.

Yama is the first stage of Indian yoga training. It signifies ‘restraint’; or ‘forbearance’. To an Indian this means not to lie, not to kill, not to steal, no dissoluteness, no desires. To enter more deeply into what this means to an Indian, we must consider it in its whole context. Thus we may be vegetarians, but we still have not got out of the habit of killing things. Our life is in fact impossible without this. We actually kill as we breathe, for we exhale carbon dioxide. If the earth's green plant cover did not continually take up the carbon dioxide and give off oxygen, humans and animals would be unable to live. It is part of the yoga exercises to get out of the killing habit. Indians take this very seriously. Many of the connections we have in our life would also come under the heading of stealing for them. Each of us must accept money in some way. Many conditions are involved in our getting this money. When we buy a coat we have no way of knowing if human blood has not been shed for it. People do not give much thought to the fact that they are in a social context and partly responsible for what they do. If we take these things seriously, we must feel responsible for the things that happen because of us.

You help other people most by having few wants. Someone who reduces his wants helps others more than a philanthropist does. Thus if we do not write unnecessary letters this may save some people the effort of having to climb stairs. It is quite wrong to think that you help people by making more demands, thus providing more work. You do not in the least add to the things people need by making work for them. In Europe the situation is so complex nowadays that it is getting more and more difficult to meet the requirements of the Eastern yoga path. This can of course be followed in the proper, strict way in a country where there are no banks and where the cultural situation is clearly apparent.

The 2nd stage is niyana, observance of ritual. The Indian yoga way certainly demands ritual, so that the teachings may be linked with religious rites. It is strictly required that everyone taking the yoga way observes a ritual. Things should be enacted before their eyes. Just as in the case of art it matters that it comes to real expression in objects, so in the case of initiation it is important to have things presented in rituals.

The 3rd stage is asana, body positions assumed to be in accord with specific currents in the cosmos. When people still had a feeling for such things, they would always put the main altar at the eastern end of their religious buildings. Indians are so subtly organized that it matters in which direction they face. The current that goes from north to south is indeed different from the one that goes from east to west. Body positions are important for yoga initiation because the Oriental body is much softer, and taking a particular position leaves much more of an imprint. A European wanting to take the Oriental yoga way would have to do all these things as well.

The 4th is pranayama, bringing rhythm into the breathing process. We can best understand this if we consider that under present-day conditions, the human breath kills things. The teacher instructs the pupil to regulate his breathing according to certain rules he gives him, at least for a time. If we were to examine the breath we would find that the air exhaled by a yoga pupil has quite a different composition, quite a different carbon dioxide content, than the breath of ordinary people. It is therefore true that by regulating the breath the pupil influences the future evolution of the earth. Constant dropping wears the stone. You don't see results from one day to the next. But it all adds up and will have definite significance over long periods of time.

At a particular time, Rosicrucian teachers also get their pupils to bring rhythm into their breathing. What does the breathing process bring about? The physical human being cannot be thought of without the plants. We inhale oxygen which combines with carbon in the lung, and we exhale carbon dioxide. The plant does exactly the opposite. There is a continuous cycle between human beings on the one hand and plants on the other. In far distant times human beings will develop an organ of their own which will take care of the function plants perform today. They will be able to process the carbon dioxide in themselves. Human beings will have an organ able to separate the carbon from the oxygen and make it part of themselves. The principles we take in with our food today to build up our bodies will then be something we consciously do within ourselves. We'll thus change carbon dioxide into oxygen again. This process is indeed helped by making the breathing process rhythmical. This was taught extensively in 14th century Rosicrucian schools. Some of these secrets were betrayed, so that they appeared in the popular literature. In an 18th century work reference is made to the philosopher's stone.¹⁴⁹ The statement is literally true. The author himself probably did not know what this was really about. The whole human being must change if he is to achieve what the plant does for him now. His physical body will then be carbon, but not black coal, nor hard diamond, which after all is only a symbol for the philosopher's stone. The philosopher's stone is meant to be a body which is transparent, with the other organs integrated within it. It will consist of a mass of gel-like carbon, rather like the white of an egg. Man is following a course where he will one day develop into this marvellous glory. The rhythmic breathing which leads to this is called ‘alchemy’. The philosopher's stone is the lapis philosophorum. The man who wrote this did not actually know what it was he was writing.

The 5th stage on the yoga path is pratyahara. It consists in being able to suppress external sensory impressions. We have to know the things that are truly our soul world and leave aside everything that has come to us from outside. Most of the things people think have come to them from outside. When someone is able to give himself up consciously to his inner thoughts and make himself blind and deaf to the world around him, though he is inwardly awake; if he is able to have a thought without reflecting on external things, his sleep will be filled with dreams and he'll be practising pratyahara.

At the 6th stage one needs not only to blot out completely anything the eyes see and the ears hear but also suppress inner ideas rising from the soul itself. Having removed everything from the soul that has come to it from life, one then holds one idea, which the guru has given, in one's inner soul. These may be ideas like those given in the first four rules in Light on the Path. The best soul contents are those a special teacher is able to give us.

Such a soul content is allowed to act for some time before one lets go of it, without losing conscious awareness. One then has the function of the life in mind and spirit, without the thinking content. When this 7th stage has been reached the world of the spirit enters into us. This condition is called samadhi.

The path of Christian gnosis is also in seven stages. This method is designed for a somewhat less subtle body and above all for the world of sentience and feeling. The Christian teacher has to guide the pupil's world of sentience and feeling. The seven stages of Christian initiation are 1) the washing of the feet, 2) the scourging, 3) the crown of thorns, 4) the crucifixion, 5) the mystic death on the cross, 6) the entombment, 7) the ascension to heaven.

It is best to consider these 7 stages by describing the way the teacher works with the pupil. The teacher will say, for instance: ‘Look at the plant. It roots and grows in the world of minerals. Addressing itself to the mineral world it would have to say: “It is to you that I owe my existence, and I am only able to live because of you. Thank you!”’ In the same way the animal should say to the plant world: ‘I owe my existence to you and am only able to live thanks to you.’ Looking at the natural world around him and at the human beings who are at a lower level, a similar feeling should live in his soul. It is never possible to develop and reach a higher level unless there are also lower levels. Because of this, people who are socially at a higher level must also go down to those who are below them and give thanks to them. Christ Jesus suggested this when at the washing of the feet he bent down to his disciples and washed their feet. Someone who is at the first stage of Christian initiation must fill his heart and mind with such a feeling of gratitude to all that is below him. Two symptoms will indicate what he has achieved. He will have an astral vision where he sees himself in the washing of the feet situation. This happens to everyone who goes through this in the right way. Secondly he will have a feeling as if water were washing around his feet.

At the 2nd stage the pupil must learn to bear all the pain and suffering that life brings and which is always present all around him. He must stand up straight, even when he has to suffer the greatest pain. The symptoms will be an astral vision where he sees himself being scourged and he will feel something like needle pricks in different places on his body.

At the 3rd stage the pupil gains the ability to bear it when scorn and derision are poured on things that are most sacred to us. The teacher says to the pupil: ‘If you are able to bear mockery and derision of what is most sacred to you and stand up for it nevertheless, you will be able to wear the crown of thorns.’ The pupil will experience a particular kind of headache when he has reached this level.

At the 4th stage he must learn to consider the body as something wholly external to himself carrying it around the way we carry around an instrument, a hammer or some other tool. In some schools the pupils learn to speak of their body like this: ‘My body goes through the door’—and the like. In his astral vision the pupil then sees himself nailed to the cross. He has Christ's stigmata on his hands and feet and on the right side of the body. Red stigmata appear at the moment of meditation and concentration.

The 5th stage is the mystic death. Here the individual feels as if a veil was placed between him and the rest of the world, like a black curtain. He then comes to know inwardly all the badness there can be in the world. Descent into hell—that is the mystic death. A vision will then show the curtain being torn apart.

At the 6th stage one has a feeling as if everything else were one's own body. You are united with the earth. That is the entombment.

The 7th stage, resurrection, cannot be put into words. Someone who goes through those feelings in his soul gains insight into the world of the spirit.

The third kind of initiation is the Rosicrucian way. It has been known in Europe from the 14th century. It is above all concerned to strengthen and empower the inner will. Where the Oriental school puts the emphasis on thinking, and the Christian school on feeling, the Rosicrucian way aims to develop the will. The stages of this way are 1) study, 2) Imagination, 3) learning the occult script, 4) bringing rhythm into life, 5) coming to understand the correspondence between microcosm and macrocosm, 6) contemplation of or entering into the macrocosm, 7) godliness.

For study, the pupil must have the patience to gain certain ideas concerning the world. He must first of all accept the teaching he is given. Thus he must, for example, devotedly study the teachings of elementary theosophy. He must try and enter as deeply into these as he can. Patient acquisition of ideas is essential for anyone who wants to reach higher levels. This calls for a specific way of training one's thinking, getting used to living and being active in the pure thinking element. Books such as The Philosophy of Spiritual Activity and Truth and Knowledge¹⁵⁰ have been written for those who want to achieve Rosicrucian initiation and train their minds. It is a matter of overcoming the difficulties, which many find insurmountable, of following one's thoughts and perceiving how one thought of necessity arises from another. Oriental training required strict submission to the guru. For gnostic Christian training the pupil must put the Christ at the centre of all endeavour. In Rosicrucian Christian training the teacher is by his side, his friend and counsellor.

We are more apt to take a tumble when we come to the higher regions. It is therefore important to gain inner certainty. In everyday situations life itself puts us right. It will sometimes correct our errors in terrible ways. Such correction is not given when we ascend to the higher worlds. This is why in Oriental training one must see with one's guru's eyes and feel through him. The European teacher is a counsellor. One needs the guidance of another when ascending into the higher worlds. In the astral world, perceptions are entirely different from those we have in the physical world; and in the devachanic world, too, a new world of perceptions opens up for us. The three worlds differ completely in the impressions to be gained. But one thing is the same for all of them, and that is logical thinking. This can be a reliable guide on the astral and devachanic planes. When study has taught us to think logically, we can also manage on the astral and devachanic planes. The logic of the physical plan no longer applies on the buddhi plan, however.

The 2nd stage of Rosicrucian training is Imagination. European pupils should take their time over this, for it is easy to take a tumble. Man must learn to develop a moral relationship to things. All that is transient should be seen as a simile for something that is eternal. If we look at the natural world in this way, the autumn crocus, for instance, becomes the image for us of a solitary spirit seeking to rise upwards in a melancholy way. The violet will be a symbol of something that has its existence in undemanding, calm beauty. Every stone makes us think—it is a simile for something that lies behind it. Our world thus grows richer. Things tells us of their inmost nature. One flower will then be the tear through which the earth gives expression to its pain, another the expression of joy. Looking at a grain of rice, for example, we may observe a small flame arising from it. The small flame becomes an image of what will later be the haulm growing from the grain.

At the 3rd stage a whole world of the spirit arises from all that is. The spiritual reality, the spiritual content of all things floats above them. The whole astral world becomes visible. You then find yourself as if in the waves of the ocean, feeling as if you were floating in the sea. You see the colour of a tulip lifted out of it, as it were, and realize that this is the garment of a spiritual entity. At this third stage the pupil learns the occult script. We must learn this if we truly want to live in the astral world. Thus many things are based on a spiral in this world (Fig. 4).

We see such a spiral in the Orion nebula and in the configuration of life forms. Human and animal embryos are spiral in form at an early stage. One part is an image of the physical aspect, the other part, which winds into it, of the astral. The beginning of a new stage in human history is also symbolized by a double spiral. It is the sign of Cancer in the zodiac. When ancient Atlantis had perished and the post-Atlantean period began, with the ancient Indian race, the sun rose in the sign of Cancer at the beginning of spring. Learning the occult script we gain our orientation in the astral world.

The 4th stage consists in learning the rhythm of life. The pupil is instructed to regulate his breathing in a particular way. In nature, everything goes in rhythms. Every plant will rhythmically flower at the same time. Rhythm may also be seen in the animal world. Thus an animal is only fertile at certain times of the year. In man, however, rhythm becomes chaos. Man must create a new rhythm for his life. Many people only have rhythms that are imposed on them. Generally speaking, people do not have rhythms chosen of their own free will. The Rosicrucian must see to it that his life becomes rhythmical. Rhythm is given to the breathing process according to special instructions given by the teacher.

The 5th stage is getting to know the correspondence between microcosm and macrocosm. A bond exists between human beings and all things around them in this world. Ordinarily this only shows itself as love between the two sexes, the feeling that the one person finds in the other exactly what is familiar and related to him, what belongs to him. Many things are due to this mysterious relationship between world and man. An example is Paracelsus' discovery of the relationships that exist between certain plants and man. Having this ability he also came to know how other substances relate to man.¹⁵¹ He called someone suffering from cholera an Arsenicus, because arsenic will evoke exactly the symptoms in a healthy person which one also sees in a case of cholera.¹⁵² One can have a personal relationship, a loving relationship with all things, one that is wholly of the spirit. This must be practised. You achieve it by following specific directions. If you think of the point that lies between the eyebrows and above the root of the nose in relation to a particular word, insight into a quite specific process in the world will come to you after some time. Thinking of the inner eye you gain knowledge of the sun's nature, of the processes that occurred when sun and earth were still one heavenly body. Another exercise makes it possible to know the moon in its spiritual aspect, or the condition of the earth 18 million years ago.

You then enter deeply into the correspondence between microcosm and macrocosm. Concentration on the point between the eyebrows and above the root of the nose you are able to penetrate into the time when the I entered into the human being. The human being then grows into the macrocosm in his conscious mind. He has to practise this for some time, growing into all things, be they far or near.

The 7th stage is that of godliness, when one grows beyond the limited bodily shell and is able to live with the macrocosm.

Pupils are instructed according to their occult status. When a pupil has gone through these stages as a real experience, he has reached the summit of insight into higher worlds.

• 148. Subba Row (Rao) (1856–1890), Indian scholar. Esoteric Writings, 2nd edition, Adyar 1931.
• 149. Karl Arnold Kortüm (1745–1828) published a treatise on the philosopher's stone in a paper called the Reichsanzeiger on 8 October 1976. Those able to read German may also see Kleeberg L. Wege und Worte 2. Aufl., Fussnote auf Seite 131. Stuttgart 1961.
• 150. Steiner R. The Philosophy of Spiritual Activity. A Philosophy of Freedom (GA 4). Tr. R. Stebbing. London: Rudolf Steiner Press 1989. Steiner R. Truth and Knowledge (GA 3). Tr. R. Stebbing. West Nyack NY: Rudolf Steiner Publications 1963.
• 151. Theophrastus Bombastus von Hohenheim, called Paracelsus (1493–1541), son of a Swiss physician. Studied alchemy and chemistry at Basel, the properties of metals and minerals in mines. Later town physician at Basel, moving to Salzburg in 1541. Revolutionized old medical methods, basing himself on empiricism.
• 152. ‘It arises from this that you shall not say “that is cholera”, “that is melancholia”, but “that is Arsenicus, that is Aluminosum”; and thus also "he is of Saturn, he is of Mars”, not “he is of melancholia, he is of cholera”. Then one part is of the heavens, one part of the earth, mingled together like fire and wood, so that each may lose its name; then they are two things in one.’ From Paragranum, collected medical works in German, edited by K. Sudhoff vol. 8 p. 74. Munich 1922–23.

I shall Speak to-day of certain matters in a way that could not be used in public lectures but is possible when I am speaking to those who have been studying spiritual science for some considerable time.

The importance of the subject of which we shall speak first, will be evident to all serious students of spiritual science. Reference has frequently been made to this subject but one cannot speak too often of spiritual-scientific concepts, for they must become actual forces, actual impulses in men of the present and immediate future. I shall lay emphasis to-day upon one aspect of what spiritual science must signify in the world, namely, the need to impart soul to our “world-body,” as we may call it.

A comparatively short time ago in the evolution of humanity it would not have been possible to speak, as we can speak to-day, of a “world-body.” Looking back only a little into the historical development of mankind, we shall find that in the comparatively recent past, the idea of a world-body peopled by a humanity forming one whole had not yet come into the consciousness of men. We find self-contained civilisations, enclosed within strict boundaries. Guided by the several Folk-Spirits, the Old Indian civilisation, the Old Persian civilisation, and so on, embraced peoples living a self-contained existence, separated from one another by mountains, seas or rivers.

Needless to say, such civilisations still exist. We speak, and rightly so, of Italian, Russian, French, Spanish, German culture, but as well as this, when we look over the earth to-day we perceive a certain unity extending over the globe—something by which peoples separated by vast distances are formed as it were into a single whole. We need think only of industry, of railways, of telegraphs, of recent inventions.¹ Railways are built, telegraph systems installed, cheques made out and cashed, all over the globe, and the same will hold good for discoveries and inventions yet to be made.

Now let us ask: What is the peculiarity of this element that extends over the globe and is the same in Tokyo, Rome, Berlin, London, and everywhere else? It is all a means of providing humanity with food and clothing, as well as with ever-increasing luxury goods. During the last few centuries a material civilisation has spread over the earth, without distinction between nation and nation, race and race. Greek culture flourished in a tiny region of the earth and little was known of it outside that region. But nowadays, news flashes around the whole globe in a few hours—and nobody would doubt the justification of calling this material culture an earthly culture! Moreover it will become increasingly material and our earth-body more and more deeply entangled in it.

But those who realise the need for spiritual science will understand with greater clarity that no body can subsist without a soul. Just as material culture encompasses the whole body of the earth, so must knowledge of the spirit be the soul that extends over the whole earth, without distinction of nation, colour, race or people. And just as identical methods are employed wherever railways and telegraph systems are constructed, so will mutual understanding over the whole earth be necessary in regard to questions concerning the human soul. The longings and questionings that will arise increasingly in the souls of men, demand answers. Hence the need for a movement dedicated to the cultivation of spiritual knowledge. Something comparable with cultural relations between individual peoples will then take effect on a wide scale, weaving threads between soul and soul over the whole earth. And what will weave from soul to soul may be called a deep and intimate understanding in regard to something that is sacred to individual souls everywhere, namely, how they are related to the spiritual world.

In a future not far distant, intimate understanding will take the place of what led in past times to bitterest conflict and disharmony as long as humanity was divided into regional civilisations which knew nothing of each other. But what will operate on a universal scale over the globe as a spiritual movement embracing all earthly humanity, must operate also between soul and soul. What a distance still separates the Buddhists and the Christians, how little do they understand and how insistently do they turn away from each other on the circumscribed ground of their particular creeds! But the time will come when their own religion will lead more and more Buddhists to Anthroposophy, and Christianity itself will lead more and more Christians to Anthroposophy. And then complete understanding will reign between them.

That humanity is coming a little nearer to this intimate understanding can be discerned to-day in the fact that the science of comparative religion is also finding its place in the domain of scholarship. The value of this science of comparative religion should not be underrated, for it has splendid achievements to its credit. But what is really brought to light when the different teachings of the religions are set forth? Although it is not acknowledged, the basis of this science of comparative religion amounts to no more than the most elementary beliefs, long since outgrown by those who have grasped the essence of the religions. The science of comparative religion confines itself to these elementary beliefs.

But what is the aim of spiritual science in regard to the various religions? It seeks for something that lies beyond the reach of the scientific investigators, namely for the essential truths contained in the religions.

From what does spiritual science take its start? From the fact that mankind has originated from a common Godhead and that a primeval wisdom belonging to mankind as one whole and springing from one Divine source has only for a time been partitioned, as it were, in a number of rays among the different peoples and groups of human beings on the earth. The aim and ideal of spiritual science is to rediscover this primeval truth, this primeval wisdom, uncoloured by this or that particular creed, and to give it again to humanity. Spiritual science is able to penetrate to the essence of the various religions because its attention is focussed, not upon external rites and ceremonies, but upon the kernel of primeval wisdom contained in each one of them. Spiritual science regards the religions as so many channels for the rays of what once streamed without differentiation over the whole of mankind.

When a professed Christian, knowing nothing beyond the external tenets of belief that have been instilled into the hearts of men through the centuries, says to a Buddhist: ‘If you would reach the truth you must believe what I believe’ ... and the Buddhist rejoins by declaring what he holds sacred, then no understanding is possible between them. But spiritual science approaches these questions in an entirely different way.

Those who can penetrate to the essence of Buddhism as well as to that of Christianity through the methods leading to the development of the new clairvoyance, come to know of sublime Beings who have risen from the realm of man and are called Bodhisattvas. Herein lies the central nerve of Buddhism. And the Christian, too, hears of a Bodhisattva who arises from mankind and works within humanity. He hears that one of these Bodhisattvas—born 600 years before our era as Siddartha, the son of King Suddhodana—attained the rank of Buddha in the twenty-ninth year of his life. A Christian who is an anthroposophist also knows that a Being who has risen from the rank of Bodhisattva to that of Buddha need not appear again on earth in a body of flesh.

True, such teachings are also communicated to us by the scientific investigators of religions, but they can make nothing of a Being such as a Bodhisattva or a Buddha; the nature of such a Being is beyond their comprehension; neither can they realise how such a Being continues to guide humanity from the spiritual worlds without living in a body of flesh.

But as anthroposophical Christians, our attitude to the Bodhisattva can be as full of reverence as that of a Buddhist, In spiritual science we say exactly the same about Buddha as a Buddhist says. The Christian who is an anthroposophist says to the Buddhist: I understand and believe what you understand and believe. No one who has come to spiritual science from the ground of Christianity would ever dream, as a Christian, of saying that the Buddha returns in the flesh. He knows that this would wound the deepest, most intimate feelings of the Buddhist and that such a statement would be utterly at variance with the true character of those Beings who have risen from the rank of Bodhisattva to that of Buddha. Christianity itself has brought him knowledge and understanding of these Beings.

And what will be the attitude of the Buddhist who has become an anthroposophist? He will understand the particular basis of Christianity. He will realise that as in the case of the other religions, Christianity has a Founder—Jesus of Nazareth—but that another Being united with him. A great deal could be said about all that has been associated with the personality of Jesus of Nazareth through the centuries. But the Christian's view of the personality of Jesus of Nazareth differs from the Buddhist's view of the Founder of his religion. In the East it would be said: “One who is a great Founder of religion has achieved the complete harmonisation of all passions and desires, of all human, personal attributes. Is such complete harmonisation manifest in Jesus of Nazareth? We read that he was seized with anger, that he overthrew the tables of the money-changers, drove them out of the temple, that he uttered words of impassioned wrath. This is evidence to us that he does not possess the qualities to be expected of a Founder of religion.” Such is the attitude of the East.

We ourselves, of course, could point to many other aspects of this question, but that is not what concerns us at the moment. The really significant fact is that Christianity differs from all other religions inasmuch as they all point to a Founder who was a great Teacher. But to believe that the same is true of Christianity would denote a fundamental misunderstanding. The essence of Christianity is not that it looks back to Jesus of Nazareth as a great Teacher. Christianity originates in a Deed, takes its start from a super-personal Deed—from the Mystery of Golgotha.

How could this be? It was because for three years there dwelt in Jesus of Nazareth a Being, Whom—if we are to give Him a name—we call Christ. But a name cannot encompass the Divine Spirit we recognise in Christ. No human name, no human word, can define a Divinity. In Christ we have to do with a Divine Impulse spreading through the world: the Christ Impulse which at the Baptism in the Jordan entered in Him, into Jesus of Nazareth. The very essence of Christianity lies in the Christ Impulse which came to the earth through a physical personality, the physical personality of Jesus of Nazareth into whose sheaths it entered. The Christ took these sheaths upon Himself because the course of world-evolution is, first, a descent, and then again an ascent. At the deepest point of descent the Mystery of Golgotha takes place, because from it alone could spring the power to lead humanity upwards.

After the Atlantean catastrophe came the ancient Indian epoch of civilisation. The spirituality of that epoch will not again be reached until the end of the seventh epoch. The ancient Indian epoch was followed by that of ancient Persia, that again by the Egypto-Chaldean epoch. When we survey evolution, even in its external aspect, the decline of spirituality is evident. Then we come to Greco-Latin civilisation with its firm footing in the earthly realm. The works of art created by the Greeks are the most wonderful expression of the marriage of spirit with form. And in Roman culture, in Roman civic life, man becomes master on the physical plane. But the spirituality in Greek culture is characterised by the saying: ‘Better it is to be a beggar in the upper world than a king in the realm of the Shades.’ Dread of the world lying behind the physical plane, dread of the world into which man will pass after death is expressed in this saying. Spirituality has here descended to the deepest point.

From then onwards, mankind needed an impulse for the return to the spiritual worlds, and this impulse was given in the Fourth Post-Atlantean epoch through an Event at a level far transcending the physical plane.

The Mystery of Golgotha was enacted in a remote corner of the earth, for the sake of no particular race or denomination. It took place in seclusion, in concealment. Neither outer civilisation nor the Romans who governed the little territory of Palestine, knew anything of the Event. The Romans were no followers of Christ—the Jews still less!

Who were present when the Mystery of Golgotha took place? Whom had he gathered around him who in his thirtieth year had received the Christ into himself? Had pupils gathered around this Being as they had gathered around Confucius, Laotse or Buddha? If we look closely we see that this is not so. For were those who until the Event of Golgotha had been His disciples, already His apostles? No! They had scattered, they had gone away when the One Whom they had followed hitherto entered upon the path of His Passion. Only when having passed through death, He gave them the certain knowledge of the power that had conquered death—only then did they become true Apostles and carried His impulse to the peoples of the earth. Before then they had not even understood Him. Even Paul, the one who after the Mystery of Golgotha achieved most of all for the spread of Christianity, understood Him only when He had appeared to him in the spirit!

So we see that, unlike the other religions, Christianity was not, in essence, founded by a great Teacher whose pupils then promulgate his teachings. The essential, basic truth of Christianity is that a Divine Impulse came down to the earth, passed through death and became the source of the impulse which leads humanity upwards. When the individual personal element had passed through death, had departed from the earth—then and only then did the power which came upon the earth through Christ, begin to work. It is not a merely personal teaching that works on, but the actual Event that Christ was within Jesus and passed through the Mystery of Golgotha, and that from the Mystery of Golgotha a power streamed forth over the whole subsequent evolution of mankind.

That is the difference between what Christianity sees as the starting-point of its development and what the other religions see as theirs. When, therefore, we turn our attention to the beginning of Christianity, it is a matter of realising what actually came to pass through the Mystery of Golgotha. Paul says, in effect: The descending line of evolution was caused through Adam, even before the Fall, before he was man, before he was a personality in the real sense. The impulse for the ascent was given by Christ.

To feel this as a reality, we must go deeply into the occult truths available to mankind. To grasp this stupendous fact, man's understanding must be quickened by the deepest, most intimate occult truths. It will then be comprehensible to him that, to begin with, even in Christendom itself, the loftiest thoughts and deepest truths could not immediately be understood. To grasp the full meaning of this Divine Death and the Impulse proceeding from it, to realise that such an Event cannot be repeated, that it occurred at the deepest point of the evolutionary process and radiates the power which enables mankind henceforward to tread the path of ascent—to conceive this was possible only to a few. And so in the centuries that followed, men clung to Jesus of Nazareth—for understanding of the Christ was as yet beyond their reach. Moreover it was through Jesus that the Christ Impulse also made its way into works of art. Men yearned for Jesus, not for Christ.

We ourselves are still living at the dawn of true Christianity; Christianity is only beginning to come into its own. And when men plead to-day: ‘Do not take from us the individual, personal Jesus who comforts and uplifts our hearts, on whom we lean; do not give us, instead of him, a super-personal event’ ... they must realise that this is nothing but an expression of egoism. Not until they transcend this personal egoism and realise that they have no right to call themselves Christians until they recognise as the source of their Christianity the Event that was fulfilled in majestic isolation on Golgotha, will they be able to draw near to Christ. But this realisation belongs to future time.

There may be some who say: Surely the Crucifixion should have been avoided! But this is simply a human opinion—no more than that. These people do not know the difference between an utter impossibility and what is merely a mistaken idea. For what came into the evolution of humanity through the Mystery of Golgotha could proceed only from the impulse of a god Who had endured all the sufferings and agonies of mankind, all the sorrows, the mockery and scorn, the contempt and the shame that were the lot of Christ. And these sufferings were infinitely harder for a god than for an ordinary human being.

That the Mystery of Golgotha actually took place cannot be authenticated in the same way as other historical events. There is no authentic, documentary evidence even of the Crucifixion. But there is good reason why no proof exists, for this is an Event which lies outside the sphere of the general evolution of mankind. The Mystery of Golgotha—and this is its very essence—is an Event transcending that which has merely to do with the evolution of humanity.

The Mystery of Golgotha was concerned with the descending path which men have taken and with what must lead them upwards again—with the Luciferic influence upon mankind! Lucifer, together with everything belonging to him, is verily not a human being. Lucifer and his hosts are superhuman beings. Nor did Lucifer desire that through his deeds men should be set upon a downward path; his purpose was to rebel against the upper gods. He wanted to vanquish his opponents, not to set men upon a downward path. The progressive gods, the upper gods, and Lucifer with his hosts of the lower gods of hindrance, waged war against each other, and from the very beginning of earthly evolution, man was dragged into this warfare among gods. It was an issue that the gods in the higher worlds had to settle among themselves, but as a result of the conflict, men were drawn more deeply into the material world than was originally intended. And now the gods had to create the balance; humanity had to be lifted upwards again, the deed of Lucifer made of no avail. And this could not be achieved through a man but only through a Divine Deed, the deed of a god. This deed of a god must be understood in all its truth and reality.

If we ponder deeply about earthly existence, we find as its greatest riddle: birth and death.The fact that beings can die is the fundamental problem confronting humanity. Death is something that occurs only on the earth. In the higher worlds there is transformation, metamorphosis—no death. Death is the consequence of what came into human beings through Lucifer, and if something had not taken place from the side of the gods, the whole of mankind would have been more and more entangled in the forces which lead to death. And so a sacrifice had to be made from the side of the gods: it was necessary that One from among them should descend and suffer the death that can be undergone only by the children of earth. This was a deed which created the balance for the deed of Lucifer. And from this death of a god streams the power which also radiates into the souls of men and can raise them again out of the darkness in which Lucifer's deed has ensnared them. A god had to die on the physical plane.

This is not a direct concern of men ... they were here spectators of an affair of the gods. No wonder that physical means are incapable of portraying an Event which is an affair of the higher worlds, for it falls outside the sphere of the physical world.

But the fruits of this deed of a god which had perforce to be wrought on the earth, became the heritage of humanity, and the Christian Initiation gives men the power to understand it. And just as mankind could come forth only once from the bosom of the Godhead, so could the overcoming of what was then instilled into the human soul be achieved only once.

If the Christian who has become an anthroposophist were to speak of the nature of Christ to a Buddhist who has become an anthroposophist, the Buddhist would say: ‘I should therefore misunderstand you were I to believe that the Being Whom you call Christ is subject to reincarnation. He is not subject to reincarnation—any more than you would say that the Buddha can return to earthly existence!’

Yet there is one fundamental difference. The Buddhist points to the great Teacher who was the originator of his religion; but the true Christian points to a deed of the spiritual worlds, enacted in seclusion on the earth, he points to something entirely non-personal, having nothing to do with any specific creed or denomination. No single human being, to begin with, recognised this deed; it had nothing to do with any particular locality on the earth. In majestic seclusion the Divine Power poured from this deed into the whole subsequent evolution of mankind.

The task of the spiritual-scientific conception of the world is to seek for the truths contained in the different religions, and to seek for the kernel of truth in them all is the augury of peace. When an adherent of some creed truly understands his religion in the light of spiritual science, he will never force its particular ray of truth upon adherents of another religion. As little as the anthroposophical Christian will speak of the return of the Buddha—for then he would not have understood him—as little will the anthroposophical Buddhist speak of the return of Christ—for that too would be a misunderstanding. Provided personal bias is laid aside, the truth concerning Buddha and the truth concerning Christ never makes for discord and sectarianism, but for harmony and peace. This is a natural consequence of truth, for truth is the augury of peace in the world. At the highest level of truth, all nations and all religions on the earth can belong to Buddha the great Teacher; and at the same highest level of truth, all nations and all religions can belong to Christ, the Divine Power. Mutual understanding augurs peace in the world. This peace is the soul of the new world. And to this soul, which must reign all over the globe as the science of the Spirit belonging to all men in all earthly civilisations, Anthroposophy should lead the way.

From the 13th and 14th centuries onwards, such knowledge was cultivated in the Rosicrucian Schools. It was known there that together with such knowledge, peace draws into the souls of men. And in these Rosicrucian Schools it was known, too, that many a one who on earth cannot experience this peace, will experience it after death as the fulfilment of his most treasured ideals—when he looks down to the earth and beholds peace reigning among the peoples and nations to the extent to which men open their hearts to receive such knowledge.

As I have spoken here to-day, so did the Rosicrucians speak in their small, enclosed circles. To-day these things can be communicated to larger gatherings of men. Those to whom it has been entrusted to carry into effect through spiritual science what streams into humanity from the Mystery of Golgotha, know that every year at Eastertide, Jesus, who bore the Christ within him, seeks out the places where the Mystery of Golgotha was fulfilled. Whether actually in incarnation or not, every year he visits these places, and there his pupils who have made themselves ready, can be united with him.

A poet—Anastasius Grün—felt the reality of this. He describes five such meetings of the Master with his pupils. The first, after the destruction of Jerusalem; the second, after the capture of Jerusalem by the Crusaders; the third—Ahasver, the Wandering Jew, lingering on Golgotha; the fourth—a praying monk, yearning and pleading for deliverance from his conqueror. For while sects of different kinds scattered over the earth are at strife among themselves, he through whom the greatest of all tidings of peace was brought to the earth, looks again at the places that were the scene of his earthly deeds.

These four pictures are given of past visits of Jesus to the scene of his work on Golgotha. Then, in the poem printed under the title of “Five Easters,” Anastasius Grün pictures another return to Golgotha, in the far future. In this far future of which he gives us a glimpse, the power of peace will then have prevailed on the earth, a peace based, not on denominational Christianity, but on Christianity as it is understood in Rosicrucianism. He sees children who, while they are at play, dig up an object of iron and do not know what it is. They alone who still possess some remote information of the strife waged among men in what is for them the distant past—they alone know that this object is a sword. In that age of peace the purpose of a sword is no longer known—it has been replaced by the ploughshare. Then a farmer digging in the earth finds an object made of stone ... Again it is not recognised. “For a time this was banished from the earth,” say those who still have some knowledge, “for men no longer understood it! Once upon a time they used it as a symbol of strife.” It is a cross of stone,—but now, when the impulse given by Christ Jesus for all future time gathers men together, now it has become something different!

How does this poet, writing in the year 1835, describe this symbol of the mission of the Christ Impulse, when rightly understood? He describes it as follows:

Though known to none, yet with its ancient blessing,
Eternal in their breast it stands upright;
There blooms its seed abroad on every pathway,
A Cross it was—this stranger to their sight.

The Cross of Stone now stands within a garden,
A strange and sacred relic from of old;
Flowers of all patterns lift their growth above it,
While roses, climbing high, the Cross enfold.

So stood the Cross, weighty with solemn meaning,
On Golgotha, amidst resplendent sheen
Long since 'tis hidden by its sheath of roses;
No more, for roses, can the Cross be seen.²

• 1. Since this lecture was given wireless broadcasting has been perfected.
• 2. The whole poem consists of 108 verses, in five parts.

A week ago I attempted to explain a way of thinking which is very alien to people in the West and which gives the theosopher insights into the cosmos. The lectures must of necessity be sketchy in character, and this prevents me from presenting the theosophical cosmology in full detail. I will, however, attempt to give you a picture of the genesis of the world which is the basis of theosophy, doing so in narrative form. I would ask those who demand something scientific to remember that it simply is not possible for me to give any kind of scientific foundation for what I have to say in three short lectures. Anyone who wants such a scientific foundation will find it in a later course, when I will be speaking on the subject in more detail.³⁷ A second volume of my Theosophy, which is due to appear soon, will also be on cosmology.³⁸

Above all let me give you an important initial idea which essentially is very simple, but must be considered by anyone who seeks to understand evolution in theosophical terms. Speaking of evolution on the large scale, we mean not only animal or plant life arising from another life, but also the great transformations in our universe, and this includes the origin of matter, matter in the actual sense, as we are able to perceive it with our physical senses today.

The last time we spoke of the seven successive levels to be distinguished in the evolution of our planet, and I described them to you at least briefly. You need to envisage our earthly planet going through seven stages in rhythmical sequence, as it were, stages we call rounds. Everything that exists and lives on our Earth today did also exist before our present-day Earth came into existence; it existed, however, in a kind of seed stage, just as the whole plant exists already in a seed, lying dormant in it, as it were, before it unfolds in the outside world. In theosophy we also call such a dormant stage of all human beings ‘pralaya’. The state in which everything awakens to life, gradually emerging and progressing from beginnings to perfection, to a peak, is called a ‘manvantara’. When perfection has been reached, pralaya again follows, to be followed in turn by a state of being awake and growing. The planet is going through this sequence seven times, awakening to a new round seven times. The period between one manvantara and another thus passes in a state where everything that is alive and active on our Earth goes to sleep, as it were. This sleep cannot be compared with ordinary human sleep. With the latter, only the activities of the rational mind and the human senses are suspended, whilst human physical life continues. You have to see the Earth’s sleep state as something very different. This state of the Earth would only be perceptible to the opened eye of the most highly developed seer, a dangma.

Such a state cannot be described in our words, for our words are not made for this form of existence. I cannot find words for this state in any language. The developed seer would therefore say something quite different to give an idea of this state. He would say: Imagine a plant. You see it. Now think of a kind of plaster cast of this plant, with the plant in all its parts now a hollow space surrounded by plaster of Paris. Now imagine that everything which is plaster of Paris is spiritual and only perceptible to certain sensory perceptions. Someone who is able to see the plant cannot see the plaster cast at the same time, it being the negative of the plant.³⁹ This would be more or less what a developed seer would be able to perceive of the Earth in its pralaya sleep. The Earth would not be there. It would be the cavity, the hollow form. It is as if it were in an great, tremendous sea of most sublime spirits which is gradually thinning out in all directions, with the existence of Earth itself pouring forth from this, as it were.

Then something began to develop in this hollow space, but it was not yet perceptible to physical eyes, only to a highly developed seer who is able to move freely in the sphere of the devachanic plane. Someone who has this vision would see an orb in space at the beginning of earthly existence, a purely spiritual orb, with anything on it also spiritual, only perceptible to the devachanic seer’s eye. Before a new round began, our Earth was in such a spiritual state. Awaking from pralaya sleep it awakened to such an orb. The devachanic seer perceives it to have a marvellous reddish shimmer. The orb is not visible to someone with astral vision only. It still holds everything in it which will later be Earth. Even the densest bodies are already there.

How can we get a picture of this? We may consider a simple process. Imagine a vessel containing water. The water is liquid. As you reduce the temperature the water will freeze and turn to ice. You have the same thing as before—ice being nothing but water, only in a different form. When you increase the temperature the ice will turn to water again, and if you heat it further even to steam. You can imagine that all materiality arises through condensation from the spiritual. The spiritual orb—only visible to a highly developed seer’s eye—condenses more and more, having first gone through a minor pralaya. It will then also be apparent to a less highly developed seer’s eye. A kind of short sleep state follows, and then the whole sphere presents in a more condensed state. It is then visible to the astral eye, that is, to someone whose senses have been opened on the astral plane. Then comes another pralaya state, and the orb emerges again, now in form of condensed physical matter. It is only now that physical eyes can see it, physical ears hear it, physical hands take hold of it. This is the fourth state. After another short pralaya the state dissolves again, and we have an astral orb again, but the spirits in it are much more highly developed now. An analogous state develops in the sixth round, which again is only visible to a devachanic seer. After a further pralaya the state is such that only the most highly developed seer’s eye can see it. Then the orb vanishes even for a dangma. A major pralaya follows, after which the whole process begins to repeat itself. This happens seven times over. The Earth is thus transformed from its lowest to its highest level.

Let us now look at the first round. The best way of studying it is to look at what was then densest on our Earth. Mineral forms did not exist in the first round, nor did physical forces of nature or chemical forces. The Earth had by then only developed far enough to provide a basis for physical existence; it created this basis in order to prepare for physical existence in the fourth round. The Earth then presented as a fiery mass, at such a tremendously high temperature that none of the forms of matter we have today could have the form which they have today. All substances were primeval mass—a kind of mush if I may use such a common term—uniform and undifferentiated. In theosophy the Earth is said to have been in the fire state at that time. This is no ordinary fire, however, but a fire of a higher, spiritual kind. No chemical elements existed. Yet there was activity inside this matter. Two kinds of spirits were active in it—those we call ‘dhyan-chohans’ and others which had not yet descended into the state of physical materiality, partly having a spirit body and partly being enveloped in astral matter; these flooded the fire matter with tremendous speed. We see irregular forms continually arising and disappearing, including forms which are already reminiscent of what will later exist on Earth. It seems like a kind of template, always coming and going. Something bubbles up which reminds us of the forms of later crystals and later plants, and indeed even something which is already assuming human forms, only to blow away again. The human beings who would incarnate at a later time lived in that fire, developing and modelling the bodies, preparing them. That is how this state in the first round on Earth presents itself to us. This fiery, flowing Earth then went into a sleep state.

The second round started in the same way. Let us again look at the earth where it was at its densest. This state now took a completely different form compared to before. It was a form which modem physicists also know, calling it ‘ether’. Ether is subtler than present-day gases, but denser than the Earth had been in the earlier round. In this extremely subtle matter, something evolved which we call chemical elements. You will find this second stage referred to in a truly marvellous way, saying that the gods arranged everything according to measure, number and weight.⁴⁰ Something which until then had been irregular became organized into chemical elements, and these assumed order by numbers. Chemists will understand this, for they know the regular periodic system of the elements. Matter thus developed specific proportions of measure and number once it had gained a degree of density, an etheric form. Individual substances still did not relate at this stage. They were alien to one another. Now, with matter differentiating, we see the most marvellous forms develop which are reminiscent of those that would come later, but are not yet stable—star-like forms, angular forms, tetrahedrons, polyhedrons, rounded forms, and so on. A hint is given of the forms that will later appear in the natural world. In the first round, crystalline forms had their precursors; now in the second round preparation is made for the plant world. Then the whole passed away again; the astral and the devachanic went through pralaya again before appearing in the third round.

If we consider the physical state of the third round we find that matter had changed considerably. It was not yet differentiated into air and water but was a kind of vapour or mist. No longer in ether form but like a kind of water vapour, mist, or like our clouds today—that is how we would have to envisage the Earth at this third stage. With those mists—we find them in ancient legends like those of Niflheim (land of mist)—matter was now no longer organized according to number but endowed with energies. Occult scientists speak of the law of elective affinities here. Chemical substances regulate themselves according to this law. Now, in the third round, energy appeared, making it possible for small things to grow larger and expand. Substances were able to organize themselves fully from inside, filling themselves with energy. Not only did the beginnings of plant nature appear, which we already saw in the second round, but growth had become possible. The first animal forms appeared, though we would consider them utterly grotesque today. Gigantic, colossal forms arose from the mist. There is some truth in it for an occultist when he looks up at the clouds and sees that one looks like a camel, another like a horse. In this third round entities were nebulous forms, with reproduction consisting in one changing into the other, one arising from another, like today’s lower cell organisms, which remind us of that time. The animal-like bodies arising from the mist were able to provide a first basis so that individual entities that had come across from earlier worlds would find a body. The human being was then able to incarnate, finding a housing that allowed him to come to expression, though initially in an imperfect, primitive and awkward way. Incarnations may also misfire. We may say that entities were on Earth in the third round that were intermediate between human and animal, with the human being not entirely at ease in them but still able to incarnate.

Then came another pralaya, followed by the fourth round. This is the round of which we ourselves are part. The Earth had thus first gone through the devachanic state, then down through the astral and etheric state, finally coming to the physical state which we have now reached. In the first round, the basis for the mineral world developed, in the second, the basis for the plant world; in the third round the potential arose for the development of animal forms. Now, in the fourth round, the human being has been given the ability to assume the form which he now has.

Let us take a closer look at the state of our physical Earth, our present round. The state of the Earth at this fourth level must be said to be very much denser than the states of the earlier rounds. Initially there was a fiery state, then a misty one, and then one that was between air and water. Now, however, at the beginning of the fourth round, we have a kind of swelling matter, rather like protein. The whole Earth was in that state at the beginning of the fourth round. Then everything gradually condensed, and matter as we know it on Earth today is nothing but the condensed matter which had originally been swelling—just as ice is condensed water matter. At the beginning of this fourth round, all entities were such that they could live in this swelling matter. The form of the human being did resemble that of today, but man was still in an utterly dim state of consciousness which would be comparable to a dreaming person today. He dreamt his way through life in a kind of sleep level of consciousness; he did not yet have a mind and spirit.

Let us take a closer look at this. The human being was possible in the swelling material. We would call the human being of that first race a human being in a dream. It is difficult to describe the human being of that first race. This state was followed by another, when matter condensed more and differentiated into a materiality that was more spiritual and another that was more physical—north pole and south pole, as it were. I would ask you to take note of the difference between the occult view of this and the generally accepted Darwinian view. When the Earth was in that state, the human being was present, and so was the plant world; the animal world was also extant, but in forms where there was as yet no sexual reproduction and no warm blood. These life forms were not yet able to produce sounds from inside themselves. The human being himself was still silent. Nor was he able to think, being unable to have even the dimmest ideas. The mind and spirit had not yet come to the living body. In the next race, the second one, matter differentiated to create two poles. The human being was, as it were, withdrawing the matter which was useful to him, setting anything less useful aside; this led to the higher animals developing as a kind of lateral branches. The lower animals already looked similar to today’s molluscs, and even fish-like forms were evolving.

The human being continued to develop. At the third level of race evolution he again set aside matter which he was unable to make the vehicle for a higher form of conscious awareness. He again let this go to provide material for creatures which then looked more or less like amphibians, in giant forms. Myth and fable refer to them as flying dragons, and so on. So far none of the life forms which had evolved had sexual reproduction. Only in the middle of the third race, the middle of the Lemurian age, did the beginnings of this appear. The arena for these events was in Lemuria, in the region of today’s Indochina in the Indian Ocean.

In the middle of the Lemurian age came the great event which made the human being human. Not all the humans which had come across from earlier planetary states were at the same level of evolution. Those who had achieved normal evolution during the earlier cycle on the misty Earth, were able to embody themselves during the third race. A number of them had, however, already reached a higher level, and they were completely unable to embody themselves in the third round. In every round, some human beings evolved to a normal level and others to a stage that went beyond this. Those who went beyond the normal level were masters, more highly developed individuals. In theosophical terminology they are called ‘solar pitris’. They had gained a higher level of spirituality but could not embody themselves in the body which the human being had at that time, just as today’s human being cannot incarnate in a plant body. They waited for evolution to continue until the right moment had come and their first true incarnation became possible in the fourth race. Then those more highly developed individuals, the solar pitris, were able to take possession of the existing forms. A humanity arose that had reached a high level of spiritual development. Legend and myths tell that there were people in those times who stood high above other human beings—individuals like Prometheus,⁴¹ the rishis of the Indians, fire rishis who then became the actual leaders of the human race, and also the manus which gave later humanity their laws. Only those solar pitris were able to incarnate as adepts.

As I told you, sexuality did not yet exist at the beginning of the fourth round. The division into sexes only came in the Lemurian age. And it was only with this that incarnation became possible, taking possession of a body, something which had not existed before. Previously, one entity had arisen from another. With the division into sexes in the middle of the Lemurian age, birth and death came on Earth, and this also meant the possibility for karma to be active. People could burden themselves with guilt. Everything we know to be ‘human’ arose at that time.

The continent of Lemuria perished in fire-like catastrophes, and the continent of Atlantis then arose from what today is the Atlantic Ocean. Another important event came in Atlantean times. I drew your attention to it when I spoke about Pentecost.⁴² I said then that except for the solar pitris, all existing entities were at a low level of mind and spirit. Only selected bodies were able to receive the solar pitris. The others would merely have made it possible for those spirits to live in a state of dim conscious awareness. People without heart and mind would have arisen if the bodies of that time had been used. The pitris therefore waited until specific animal forms had developed further. These had gone down more deeply into the life of drives on the one hand, but on the other hand this had created the preconditions for brain development at a later time. Matter had differentiated into ‘nerve matter’ and ‘gender matter’. The pitris who had waited for this later stage then became embodied in this poorer form of matter. This is called ‘the Fall’ in religious terminology—the descent into matter of a poorer kind. If this had not been done, they would all have remained at a much less consciously aware level. They could not have been used for the clear life of thought which we have today, but would have remained in a much dimmer, duller state. The price they paid for this was that they let the body get worse on the one hand, so that on the other hand they could enhance it and develop brain matter, achieving a higher level of conscious awareness. A special outcome of the Atlantean race’s evolution was a phenomenal memory.

When Atlantis had perished—through water—our present fifth race became a later continuation. Its special achievement has been the associative mind which enables the fifth race to take art and science to their highest levels, something which had not been possible before. In the fifth sub-race of the fourth round the human being reached a high point—control through the spirit, a spirit which had descended into matter so that it might now be taken upwards again to higher and higher levels. We have seen the cosmos evolve in rhythmic sequence of stages to the point where we are today. Earlier rounds led to the development of

1. mineral world,
2. plant world,
3. animal world,
4. [and then] human being.

Theosophical cosmology is an edifice complete in itself which has arisen from the wisdom of the most highly developed seers. If only I had a bit more time, I would be able to show you how particular natural scientific facts go powerfully in the direction of substantiating this image of the world. Consider Haeckel’s famous genealogies, for instance, with all evolution interpreted in a purely material sense.⁴³ But if you take the spiritual states as they are described in theosophy, rather than matter, or crystal, you can produce genealogies, just as Haeckel has done, though the explanation would be a different one.

Let me draw your attention to the following to prevent you from confusing the different astral or physical states described in some theosophical works with what I have been saying here. Evolution is often described as though different states ran side by side; you see orbs put side by side, so that it seems as if life moved from one to the other. In reality there is, however, only a single orb, and it is only its condition or state which changes. It is always the same orb going through the different metamorphoses—spiritual, astral, physical, and so on.

We have seen, therefore, that the starting point, which we took from Goethe’s words, has its full justification, the words being that ultimately it is the human being who shows himself to be the goal, as it were, a mission of the earthly planet.⁴⁴ The occultist knows that every planet has a particular mission. Nothing in the cosmos is random chance. The mission of physical evolution is to let the principle which is arising for us luman beings reach its goal. You would not find a human being like the present-day human being on any other planet. Spirits—yes, humans—no. The Earth exists so that the human being could evolve as an entity aware of being an I. The natural worlds evolved in the first four rounds in order that in the fourth the human being would have self-awareness, able to mirror himself consciously in the body. He will continue to ascend to higher states, and only very few people can form a real idea of these.⁴⁵ In the next, the fifth round, the mineral world will disappear completely. All mineral matter will be transformed into plant matter. Everything will live in the plant idea—speaking in occult terms. Then the plant world, too, will reach perfection, and in the following round the animal principle will be the lowest world. In the seventh round the human being will have reached the height of his evolution. He will then be what he is meant to become in his planetary evolution.

Someone who understands this may also gain profound insight into religious source documents. There was a time when people believed in them like children. There followed a period of enlightenment, when nothing was believed. Now a time will come when people will learn to understand the images again which have been preserved for us in religious writings, tales and fables. Thus we have the seven rounds shown as the seven days of creation in the Bible. The first three days of creation have passed, we are now in the fourth. The last three are still to come. The first three days of creation represent the rounds that lie in the past; in the last three we have an indication of what will come in future. Properly understood, what Moses wanted to say in describing the fourth day of creation was that we are in the fourth round; he also described this day specifically. This is also why you have two creations in the Book of Genesis.⁴⁶ People who merely apply the rational mind to the Bible will never understand this. The human being of the seventh day has not yet been created. Creating man out of clay is a simile for our fourth round. The double creation story speaks in image form of what has been created, of the state in which we are now, and of the state which will exist at the end of the seventh round. When we look at the Bible texts in this way, these documents suddenly gain a meaning of which we could not have the least idea before. Now humanity will finally realize that the meaning of it all is so profound that we almost have to become different human beings in order to understand. It will be necessary for the sublime spiritual meaning of this, the oldest document to be made plain again,⁴⁷ which is the mission of the theosophical movement. This does not find fault with the materialistic aspects of our time, realising that they are necessary. But it works towards the goal of letting humanity recognize the spiritual meaning of those documents again. This is also what we want to work on in the winter which lies ahead. Today’s lecture is the last in the course. But our Mondays will continue. We’ll meet here every Monday night at eight.

• 37. It appears this was never given. Elements may be found in public lectures, e.g. Berlin, 9 March 1905 on the origin of the Earth [in German, in GA 53].
• 38. See in ‘About this volume’.
• 39. See for instance the lecture given in Berlin on 30 October 1905, in Foundations of Esotericism (note 13).
• 40. See notes on the Logoi (2 July 1904) in this volume.
• 41. See lecture given in Berlin on 7 October 1904, in The Temple Legend (note 22).
• 42. On 23 May 1904. In German in GA 93.
• 43. See Ernst Haeckel, The Natural History of Creation vol. 2.
• 44. See Note 32.
• 45. E.g. essays in Cosmic Memory (note 11, chapter on the Earth and its future); lecture given in Oslo on 12 June 1912, in Man in the Light of Occultism, Theosophy and Philosophy, GA 137, London & New York: Rudolf Steiner Publ. Co. & Anthroposophic Press 1945.
• 46. See lectures given in Berlin on 4 Nov. & 8 Dec. 1903 [in German] in GA 88, and lecture course Genesis, GA 122, tr. D. Lenn, O. Barfield; London: Anthroposophical Publ. Co. 1959.
• 47. See lecture course Genesis (note 46).

It is especially important in our time that the reality of spiritual life is not confused with the way people interpret this reality. We live in an age when human understanding and human conduct are strongly influenced by materialism. However, it would be wrong to think that because our age is materialistic, spiritual influences are not at hand, that the spirit is not present and active. Strange as it may seem it is possible, particularly in our time, to observe an abundance of effects in human life which are purely spiritual. They are everywhere in evidence and, the way they manifest, one could certainly not say that they are either invisible or inactive. The situation is rather that people, because of their materialistic outlook, are incapable of seeing what is manifestly there. All they see is what is so to speak "on the agenda." When one looks at people's attitude to the spirit, at the way they react when spiritual matters are spoken of, it reminds one of an incident which took place several decades ago in a Central European city. There was an important meeting of an important body of people and the degeneration of moral standards came under discussion. Immoral practices had begun to have adverse influence on certain financial transactions. Naturally a large part of this distinguished body of people wanted financial matters to be discussed purely from the point of view of finance. But a minority—it usually is a minority on such occasions—wanted to discuss the issue of moral corruption. However a minister got up and simply tossed aside such an irrelevant issue by saying: “But gentlemen, morality is not on the agenda.”—It could be said that the attitude of a great many people today in regard to spiritual matters is also one that says: But gentlemen, the spirit is not on the agenda. It is manifestly not on the agenda when things of importance are debated. But perhaps such debates do not always deal with the reality, perhaps the spirit is present, only it is not put on the agenda when human affairs are under discussion.

When one considers these things, and has opportunity to talk more intimately with people, a situation emerges which is very different from what is imagined by those who feel embarrassed by talking about things of a spiritual nature. When one comes to discuss how people got the impulse to do what they are doing one finds again and again that they decided on a project because of some prophetic vision or because of some inner impulse. As I said, if one looks at these things and is able to assess the situation, more often than not things are done because of some spiritual influence, perhaps in the form of a dream or some other kind of vision. Much more than is imagined takes place under the influence of spiritual powers and impulses which flow into the physical world from the spiritual world. People's theoretical rejection of spirituality, based on present-day outlook, does not alter the fact that significant spiritual impulses do penetrate everywhere into our world. However, they do not escape being influenced by the prevailing materialism. There has always been an influx of spiritual impulses throughout mankind's evolution and one ought not to think that this has ceased in our time. But people responded differently when there was more awareness of the existence of a spiritual world than they do in a materialistic age like ours. Let us look at a particular example.

It is extraordinarily difficult to convey to the world certain facts concerning spiritual matters, the reason being that people in general are not sufficiently prepared; they cannot formulate the appropriate concepts for receiving rightly such communications from the spiritual world. Such communications are all too easily distorted into the very opposite. Therefore it often happens, especially at present, that those who are initiated into spiritual matters must remain silent in regard to what is most essential. They must because it cannot be foreseen what might happen if certain things were imparted to someone unripe for the information. Nevertheless certain situations do often arise. On occasions, in accordance with higher laws, discussions take place about spiritual matters. When it is difficult, as it usually is at present, to discuss such things with the living it can often be all the more fruitful to discuss them with those who have died. Seldom perhaps was there a time when conscious interaction between the physical plane and the spiritual world, in which the dead are living, was so vigorous as it can be at present.

Let us assume that a discussion takes place of a kind possible only between someone with knowledge on the physical plane and someone who has died. In this situation something very curious can happen, something that could be termed a "transcendental indiscretion" can take place. The fact is that there are those who listen at keyholes, so to speak, not only on the physical plane, but also among certain beings in the spiritual world. There are spirits of an inferior kind who are forever attempting to obtain knowledge of all kinds of spiritual facts by such means. They listen to what is being said between beings on the physical plane and those in the spiritual world. Their opportunity to listen to such a conversation can arise through someone who, being especially passionate, in the grip of his passion is, as one might say, “beside himself.” This kind of situation often arises through passion, through being drunk—really physically drunk—or through faintness. It gives the lower spirit opportunity to enter into the person with the result that the person either then or later has visions of some kind and can hear things he is not supposed to hear.

It is well known to those able to observe such happenings that countless things, obtained through indiscretion in spiritual communication, appear in distorted form in all kinds of literature, particularly those of a more dubious kind. Nothing is more effective than when some lower elemental spirit (Kobold) takes possession of the writer of a detective novel, especially if drunk and, entering into his human frailties, instills in him a particular sentence or phrase which he then introduces into his story. Later the novel reaches people through all kinds of direct or indirect channels; the particular sentence has an especially strong effect because, given the way people take these things in, it speaks, not to the reader's consciousness, but to his subconscious.

Another method which is very effective is when, in a spiritualistic seance, such a spirit may have the opportunity to insinuate, into what is related through the medium, the spiritual indiscretion he wishes put to effect. This is not to say anything against mediumship as such, only the way it is used. Many things occur in the course of human karma which, in order to come to light, need mediumistic communications. We are not dealing with this aspect today, however. The point I want to make at the moment is to emphasize that there are at the present time spiritual channels between the spiritual world and the physical plane. These channels are very numerous and far more effective than is supposed.—Having said this you will understand better when I now say something which may seem paradoxical but is nevertheless a reality.

The years between 1914 and 1917 will no doubt be written about in the future in the usual way of historians. They will scrutinize documents, found in archives everywhere, in order to establish what caused the terrible World War. On this basis they will attempt to write a plausible account of say the year 1914 in relation to events in Europe. However, one thing is certain: no documentary research, no report drawn up in the way this is usually done will suffice to explain the causes of this monstrous event. The reason is simply that according to their very nature the most significant causes are not inscribed by pen or printer's ink into external documents. Furthermore their very existence is denied because they are not, so to speak, “on the agenda.”

Just in these last days you will have read reports of the legal inquiries going on in Russia. The Russian minister of war Suchomlinoff,²⁰ the Chief of the Russian General Staff and other personalities have made important statements which have caused a great deal of indignation. Many feel moral indignation on learning that Suchomlinoff lied to the Czar; or that the Chief of the Russian General Staff, with the mobilization order in his pocket, gave the German Military Attache his solemn promise that this order had not yet been issued. He said this because he intended to pass it on to the proper quarters a few minutes later. Such things are certainly cause for indignation and moralizing but so much lying goes on nowadays that no one should be surprised that really fat ones are told in important places. But these incidents and what people say about them are truly not the real issue. That is something quite different. When one reads the full report carefully one comes across remarkable words which are clear indicators of what really took place. Suchomlinoff himself says that while these events were taking place he, for a time, lost his reason. He says in so many words: “I lost my reason over it.” The continuous vacillation of events caused this state of affairs. He was not alone, quite a few others in key positions were in similar states.

Imagine a person occupying a position such as that of Suchomlinoff: The loss of his power of reasoning gives splendid opportunity for ahrimanic beings to take possession of him and instill into his soul all kinds of suggestions. Ahriman uses such methods to bring his influence to bear, especially when no importance is attached to remaining fully conscious—apart from sleep. When we are fully conscious such spiritual beings have no real access to our soul. But when our spirit; i.e., our consciousness is suppressed then ahrimanic beings have immediate access. Dimmed consciousness is for ahrimanic and luciferic beings the window or door through which they can enter the world and carry out their intention. They attack people when they are in a state of dimmed consciousness and take possession of them. Ahriman and Lucifer do not act in inexplicable terrifying ways but through human beings whose state of consciousness gives them access.

Those who in the future want to write a history of this war must discover where such dimmed states of consciousness occurred, where doors and windows were thrown open for the entry of ahrimanic and luciferic powers. In earlier times such things did not happen to the same extent in events of a similar kind. In order to describe the causes of events during earlier times what professors and historians find in archives will suffice, whereas in the case of present events something will remain unexplained over and above what is found in documents however well researched. This something is the penetration of certain spiritual powers into the human world through states of dimmed consciousness.

I spoke in an earlier lecture about how, in a certain region of the earth, conditions were prepared for decades so that at the right moment the appropriate ahrimanic forces could penetrate and influence mankind. Something of this nature took place in July and August of 1914 when an enormous flood, a veritable whirlpool, of spiritual impulses surged through Europe. That has to be rightly understood and taken into account. One simply does not understand reality if one is not prepared to approach it with concrete concepts derived from spiritual insight. To understand what is real, as opposed to what is unreal, at the present time spiritual science is an absolute necessity. Nothing can effectively be done in the political or any other sphere unless wide-awake consciousness is developed concerning events which must be approached with concepts and ideas gained from spiritual knowledge. Not that everything can be judged in stereotyped fashion according to spiritual science. But spiritual knowledge can stir us to alert participation in present issues, whereas a materialistic view of events allows us to sleep through things of greatest importance. A materialistic outlook prevents us from arriving at proper judgement of what the present asks of us.

A recognition of what here is at stake is what I so much want to be present as an undercurrent in our spiritual-scientific lectures and discussions, so that spiritual knowledge may become a vital force enabling souls to deal appropriately with outer life. It is essential to recognize not only the issues of spiritual science itself but also those of external life as they truly are. One must be able to arrive at judgements based on the symptoms to be seen everywhere.

I recently described the incredible superficiality with which a professor of Berlin University attacked Anthroposophy. I told you of the misrepresentations and slanders delivered by Max Dessoir.²¹ That such an individual should be a member of a learned body is part and parcel of the complexities of life today. Max Dessoir once wrote a history of psychology and mentions in the preface that he wrote it because the Berlin Academy of Science had offered a prize for a work on the subject. The history of psychology written by Max Dessoir is such a slovenly piece of work, containing fundamental errors that he withdrew it and prohibited further publication. Consequently not many copies are in circulation, though I have a reviewers copy and could say many things about it. For the moment I refer to it in my forth coming booklet concerned with attacks on Anthroposophy.

As I said Max Dessoir wrote a history of psychology and then withdrew it from circulation. But the fact remains that the Berlin Academy of Science did award it the prize. Such things should not be overlooked; they are symptomatic of what takes place nowadays. One must ask: who are the people who award such prizes? They are the very people who educate the younger generation; i.e., they educate those who will become leading figures in society. They also educated the generation which brought about the present situation in the world. It is necessary to see things in their true context and to recognize that all the symptoms reveal the need for that which alone can make our time comprehensible.

This again indicates what I wish so very much could flow as an undercurrent through our movement so that spiritual science would shake souls awake and make them alert observers of what really takes place in their surroundings. The occasion for sleep is in our time considerable and naturally ahrimanic and luciferic powers make use of every opportunity to divert the alert consciousness aroused by spiritual knowledge away from the real issues. The opportunities for dulling man's consciousness are plentiful. Someone who studies exclusively a special subject will certainly become ever more knowledgeable and clever in his particular field; yet the clarity of his consciousness may suffer as a result.—In speaking about these things one is skating on very thin ice.

While it is true that there are many things of which an initiate cannot speak at present because it could have terrible results, it is also true that there are things of which one can and indeed must speak. To give an example, there is a professor at a German university of whom much good could be said and I have no intention to say anything against the man. I want to give an objective characterization. He is a distinguished scholar of theology, has studied widely and his research in the domain of theology has made him very learned. Yet it has not made him awake and alert to what constitutes true reality. As professor of theology his task is to speak about religion, scripture and also about veneration and supersensible powers. This, for a modern professor of theology, is a rather uncomfortable task. Such learned men much prefer to speak about experiencing religion as such, about how it feels merely to approach the spiritual. This professor, as others like him, has a certain fear of the spiritual world, fear of defining or describing it in actual words and concepts. I have often spoken about this fear which is purely ahrimanic in origin. This professor has an inkling that he will meet Ahriman once he penetrates the material world and enters the spiritual world. He would then have to overcome Ahriman.

Here we see someone who as a theologian looks upon the beauty and the greatness of nature as a manifestation of the divine. But this aspect of nature he will not investigate for it is the beings of the Higher Hierarchies who reveal themselves through nature and to speak of them is not “scientific.” Nevertheless he does want to investigate the soul's religious experiences. However, in attempting investigation of this kind, without any wish to enter the spiritual world itself, one very easily succumbs instead to the very soul condition one is apt to experience when confronting Ahriman: the condition of fear. The religious experience of this theologian consists therefore partly of fear, of timidity in face of the unknown. The last thing he wants is to make the unknown into the known. He presumes that timidity and fear of the unknown—which stems from ahrimanic beings—is part and parcel of religious experience.

It is because he wants to describe the soul's religious experience but refuses to enter the realm of the Hierarchies who live behind the sense world that Ahriman darkens his comprehension of the spiritual world. Through the ahrimanic temptation the spiritual world appears as “the great unknown,” as “the irrational” and religious experience is confused with the “mystery of fear.”—Nor is that all, for just as Ahriman is waiting without when one seeks the spiritual world through external nature so does Lucifer wait within. The modern theologian of whom we are speaking also refuses to seek the Hierarchies within. Here again Lucifer makes the realm of the Hierarchies appear as "the great unknown" which the theologian refuses to make into the known. Yet he wants to know the soul's experience, so here he meets the opposite of the mystery of fear, namely the “mystery of fascination.” This is a realm in which we experience attraction, we become fascinated. The theologian now has on the one hand the mystery of fear and on the other the mystery of fascination; for him these two components constitute religious life.

Naturally there are critics today who feel that it is a great step forward when theology has, at last, got away from speaking about spiritual beings; no longer speaks of what is rational but about what is irrational; i.e., the mystery of fear and the mystery of fascination, the two ways to avoid entering the unknown. The book: Über das Heilige (About the Sacred) by professor Otto²² of Breslau University is certain to attain fame. This book sets out to derationalize everything to do with religious experience. It sets out to make everything vague, to make all feelings indefinite partly through fear of the unknown and also through fascination for the unknown. This view of religious life is certain to attract attention. People are bound to say that here, at last, the old fashioned idea of speaking about the spiritual world is done away with.

Anyone knowing something of Anthroposophy will recognize that in the case of this scholar there is a condition of dimmed consciousness. Such conditions frequently occur; philologists and researchers often fall into states of dimmed consciousness, especially when their investigations are within a limited field. In such conditions Ahriman and Lucifer have access to them. And why should Ahriman not prevent such a researcher from beholding the spiritual world by deluding him through the mystery of fear? And why should Lucifer not delude him through the mystery of fascination? There is no other remedy than clear awareness of the roles played by Ahriman and Lucifer, otherwise one is merely wallowing in nebulous feelings. Certainly feeling is a powerful element of the soul's life which should not be artificially suppressed by the intellect, but that is something different altogether from allowing a surge of indefinite feeling to obscure every concrete insight into the spiritual world.

One is reminded in this connection of something said by Hegel,²⁴ though it was cynical and purely speculative. Hegel was referring to Schleiermacher's²³ famous definition of religious feeling which, according to him, consisted of utter and complete dependence. This definition is not false but that is not the point. Hegel, who above all wanted to lead man to clear concepts and concrete views and certainly not to feelings of dependence, declared that if utter dependence was a criterion for being religious then a dog would be the best Christian. Similarly if fear is the criterion for religious feelings then one need only suffer an attack of hydrophobia in order to experience intensely the mystery of fear.

What I am bringing up in these lectures must be considered, not so much according to its theoretical content but rather as an indication of the kind of inner attitude which is indispensable if one wants to observe the conditions in the world as they truly are. And it is so very important to do so. No matter where or how one is placed in life one can either observe appropriately or be inappropriately asleep. What surges and pulsates through life comes to expression in small issues as well as in big ones and can be observed everywhere.

We are at the beginning of a time when it will be of particular importance that things I have indicated in these last lectures are kept very much in mind. Many people do arrive at awareness of a universal Godhead or a universal spirituality. Yet, as I demonstrated when I spoke about his article “Reason and Knowledge,” even someone of the stature of Hermann Bahr does not arrive at any real awareness of Christ. He allies himself with the most prominent Christian institution of the day, that of Rome. But despite all he says there is no sign in his “Reason and Knowledge” of any conscious search for the Christ Impulse. Yet the most pressing need in our time is to gain an ever clearer understanding of the Christ impulse.

In the course of the 19th Century there was a great upsurge of natural-scientific thinking and all its attendant results. One of the first results was theoretical materialism accompanied by atheism. It can be said that the materialists of the 19th Century positively revelled in atheism. But such tendencies are apt to reverse and the same kind of thinking which made human beings atheists—due to certain luciferic-ahrimanic impulses at work during the first upsurge of natural science—will make them pious once the first glow has faded. The teachings of Darwin can make people God-fearing as easily as it can make them atheists, it all depends which side of the coin turns up. What no one can become through Darwinism is a Christian; nor is that possible through natural science if one remains within its limits. To become a Christian something quite different is required; namely, an understanding of a certain fundamental attitude of soul. What exactly is meant?

Kant said that the world is our mental picture, for the mental pictures we make of the world are formed according to the way we are organized. I may mention, not for personal but for factual reasons, that this Kantianism is completely refuted in my books Truth and Knowledge and The Philosophy of Freedom. These works set out to show that when we form concepts about the world, and elaborate them mentally, we are not alienating ourselves from reality. We are born into a physical body to enable us to see objects through our eyes and hear them through our ears and so on. What is disclosed to us through our senses is not full reality, it is only half reality. This I also stressed in my book Riddles of Philosophy. It is just because we are organized the way we are that the world, seen through our senses, is in a certain sense what Orientals call Maya. In the activity of forming mental pictures of the world we add, by means of thoughts, that which we suppressed through the body. This is the relation between true reality and knowledge. The task of real knowledge and therefore real science is to turn half reality; i.e., semblance, into the complete reality. The world, as it first appears through our senses, is for us incomplete. This incompleteness is not due to the world but to us, and we, through our mental activity, restore it to full reality. These thoughts I venture to call Pauline thoughts in the realm of epistemology. For it is truly nothing else than carrying into the realm of philosophic epistemology, the Pauline epistemology that man, when he came into the world through the first Adam, beheld an inferior aspect of the world; its true form he would experience only in what he will become through Christ.

The introduction of theological formulae into epistemology is not the point; what matters is the kind of thinking employed. I venture to say that, though my Truth and Knowledge and The Philosophy of Freedom are philosophic works, the Pauline spirit lives in them. A bridge can be built from this philosophy to the Christ Spirit; just as a bridge can be built from natural science to the Father Spirit. By means of natural-scientific thinking the Christ Spirit cannot be attained. Consequently as long as Kantianism prevails in philosophy, representing as it does a viewpoint that belongs to pre-Christian times, philosophy will continue to cloud the issue of Christianity.

So you see that everything that happens, everything that is done in the world must be observed and understood on a deeper level. It is necessary, when assessing literary works today, to keep in view not only their verbal content but also the whole direction of the ideas employed. One must be able to evaluate what is fruitful in such works and what must be superceded. Then one will also find entry into those spheres which alone enables one to stay awake in the true sense. The terrible events taking place in our time must be seen as external symptoms, the real change of direction must start from within.

Let me mention in conclusion that before 1914 I pointed out how confused were the statements made by Woodrow Wilson.²⁵ At that time I was completely alone in that view. What I said can be found in a course of lectures I gave at Helsingfors in May and June 1913. At that time Woodrow Wilson had the literary world at his feet. Only certain writings of his had been translated into other languages and much was said about his “great, noble and unbiased” mind. Those who were of that opinion speak differently now; but whether insight or something different brought about the change of view is open to question. What is important now is to recognize that because spiritual science is directly related to true reality it enables one to form appropriate judgements. This is an urgent need in view of the empty abstraction on which most judgements are based at present. An example of the latter is Der Geistgehalt dieses Krieges (The Spiritual Import of this War) by George Simmel. It is an ingenious presentation and a prime example of ideas from which all content has been extracted. To read it is comparable to eating an orange from which all juice has been squeezed out. Yet the book was written by a distinguished philosopher and innovator of modern views. At the Berlin university he had a large following; the fact that he never had a thought worthy of the name did nothing to diminish his fame.

• 20. Wladimir Alexandrowitsch Suchomlinoff 1848–1926 Russian General
• 21. Max Dessoir 1867–1947 Philosopher and Psychologist
• 22. Rudolf Otto 1869–1937
• 24. Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel 1770–1831 German Philosopher
• 23. Friedrich Schleiermacher 1768–1834 Theologian and Philosopher
• 25. Woodrow Wilson 1856–1924 Professor of Philosophy, President of the U.S.A. 1913–1921

The occult brotherhoods do possess the ancient tradition, but they are not aware of what the spiritual world is trying to reveal to us in our age. There is a universal formula which rules a large number of these brotherhoods. They speak of the creative power which pulses and permeates the cosmos. When they want, in their sense, to direct themselves to these creative powers, namely, to the divine spiritual which pulsates and permeates the cosmos, then they speak about the Grand Architect of the World. This is a very often used formulation: The Elevated Grand Architect of the world.

For those who can understand the development of mankind from spiritual science, it proves the fact that in truth such brotherhoods go far, far back. These brotherhoods, to be sure, had other forms in more ancient times, but, nevertheless, they go far back in an unbroken sequence to the ancient communities which existed with the Greeks and Romans in the 4th post-Atlantean cultural epoch and we can also go back still farther to the ancient Egyptian times, and our present brotherhoods come from these ancient communities. But as we mentioned earlier, they do not stand in a direct connection with the spiritual world as did the earlier communities, but they preserved that which they had as knowledge more as traditional knowledge.

Now, you already find the concept of the primal revelation in the writings of individually illuminated, theological researchers or researchers of ancient times. What do these people mean by primal revelation? This concept of the primal revelation can become clear when you attempt to become familiar with the ancient religious writings. All you need to do is go back to the writings of Gautama Buddha you will see that what is said there is said upon the basis of the great knowledge; however, as far as he was concerned, it was transmitted by tradition which goes back into distant ancient times built up on a primal knowledge. Thus we are led back to a primal knowledge going back through the earliest centuries to that which was known by people, but which for our particular time is considered to be distorted nonsense by those modern intellectuals when they try to read Jacob Boehme, or Paracelsus. Then you come to the time when people did all sorts of alchemistic experiment and then you go farther and farther back and when an unprejudiced person goes back through the Romans, the Greeks and the Egyptians, he comes to a humanity which once had a knowledge which was spread out over the world in a way in which present day man, however, cannot acquire. Now, it is very difficult for present day man to obtain an idea of this particular situation, because when he tries to transplant himself into these ancient times, all he can think of is that man is a type of ape man. However, in spite of all these theories about the ape man, the unprejudiced person must admit that there must have originally been a knowledge which mankind with his present cleverness cannot reach, a knowledge which is infinitely deep and which stretched itself out over the spiritual worlds in such a superior way that in it is contained not only a consciousness of the fact that man can rise up into the spiritual worlds, but that man can find other beings in these spiritual worlds who are not incarnated in fleshy bodies, beings which we call Angels, Archangels and so on. So, we can find in these ancient religious writings that the people knew of these higher beings and they speak of them as beings with whom they were able to interact. As I said, the writings themselves prove this.

What actually is at the basis of this fact? From a certain stage of initiation, one can come directly behind this mystery. We know that the world around us is not only spread out in the way today's sense knowledge speaks of it, but there is a so-called elementary world at the basis of this nature, world which, if we go back into ancient mythologies we find descriptions of these elemental beings. These elemental beings that lie at the base of the mineral kingdom are called gnomes, those at the base of the water plant kingdom are known as undines, those aeroform elementals as sylphs and the warmth elementals as salamanders. These beings which we just described have their special task in the world; they have a great deal to do. External materialistic science says that everything makes itself of itself, but this is not true. Things do not make themselves of themselves. The person whose eyes are open to the elementary world sees how these elementals actually go through a kind of cycle of the year, how there are beings working down from the spiritual world upon these elementals, they work differently in spring, differently in summer, differently in autumn and differently in winter. This means that we have an elementary kingdom spread out around us which lies at the basis of the nature kingdom and there streams down, one cannot say an instruction, but one can say that forces pour down in order that these elementary beings can receive the power in the spring in order to form the plant covering for the earth. The forces of certain spiritual beings are carried down which impart themselves to these elementary beings so that a new world of form can sprout forth in the spring. And as summer approaches, they receive, as it were, a later course of instruction, forces are poured down upon them so that they can effect that which has to come about in summer. An interworking between the spirits of the higher hierarchies and the elementary beings who weave and live in the nature which surrounds us performs itself in the cycle of the year. This means we are continuously concerned with an up and down pouring, with an up and down streaming of spiritual beings of the hierarchies whose students are the elementary beings who provide the enlivening forces for all that which has to sprout and germinate in the course of the year. All that which arises and fades away in the course of the year, that does not simply grow out of the earth, but stands in a direct interworking with the divine spiritual. And it was said that that which germinates and sprouts in the course of the year stands in direct interworking with the beings who permit their forces to stream up and down and they pour these forces into the elementary world. But, my dear friends just as today sylphs, gnomes, undines and salamanders receive their influence from the beings of the hierarchies who stream up and down according to the course of the year, so when man did not have such a solid physical body in those ancient times, he received instructions from the higher hierarchies who streamed up and down. All the sagas and myths that remain tell us that in ancient times man received such instruction from beings who themselves had descended out of the spiritual worlds. These myths absolutely rest upon a truth. Man found himself with those spirits among whom the gnomes, sylphs, undines, and salamanders exist today, and whereas these elementary beings receive those forces through which they are able to effect the forms which sprout out of the Earth during the course of the year, so man in ancient times received his instructions from hierarchies who streamed up and down. And that which he received in ancient time remains as a residue in writings which have still been preserved and from which an unprejudiced person can prove—as we said—that once upon a time such a primal revelation did exist. Thus we see that such a primal revelation really did exist and in those periods which preceded the eighth century B.C. you have the last residue flowing down to mankind from this primal revelation. Actually we can put the year 747 B.C. as the year which mankind, a result of the further development of his physical nature, was excluded from a direct participation in such instruction. Naturally such an exclusion occurs very gradually, step by step. All that which was contained in ancient science flowed down in this way as a direct knowledge from the spiritual worlds into mankind and has been transmitted by tradition, but is no longer understood today.

Let us focus our attention upon the last science which came to the human being in this way. The question is: What did man experience from such a primal revelation that had flowed down in the course of the time from the earliest periods an into ancient Atlantis? He experienced the connection in which he himself as a human being stood within the spiritual worlds since he is a microcosm and all the processes and forces in the microcosm which otherwise occur in the great macrocosmic world play in him. And the last thing which man learned in this way, the last thing which flowed to him from the external is geometry and mathematics. That person who today allows geometry and mathematics to work upon him in a true sense, will still be able to perceive the fact that a different kind of knowledge comes to him in geometry and mathematics, a different kind of knowledge from the other knowledge which he gathers from experience. There is something within geometry and mathematics which one can perceive apart from external experience. No man can prove that the three angles of the triangle are 180° by merely drawing a triangle in a sense sort of way. He can arrive at the fact, but proving it can only be done as a result of an inner experience of thinking. Man does not need to use his fingers to prove to himself that 3x3=9; all he need do is ideate it to himself and in an inward way he will come to the truth that 3x3=9.

But what comes to expression in the forms of architecture is obtained from a much wider basis. That which is at the basis of geometry and mathematics goes back to a much more ancient knowledge than that which is at the basis of architecture art. In the Graeco-Latin times, that which was ancient knowledge in the mysteries was mediated to the human being by one saying the following to him: ‘When you really deepen yourself, then you bring out of yourself that which was revealed to you by the spirits of the higher hierarchies earlier lives on Earth.’ In the Egyptian Mysteries you did not have to do that. The higher beings themselves still came down. Now in the Greco-Latin period the master assembled his students and said the following: “You were there in earlier incarnations and you went through human development in which the spirits of the higher hierarchies took part. This has established itself in your souls. Bring it up.” Thus Masters of the Greco-Latin mysteries were still able in this way to fetch up that which was established in the human soul. Everything is to be found in the human soul, because everything streamed down through spiritual beings into the human beings from the primal revelation. What we once upon a time experienced in instructions from the hierarchies we really bring out of ourselves.

Now came the year 1413 and man can no longer become conscious of what the earlier spiritual instruction was because it has been covered over in his soul by the materialistic age. Since 1413 the soul unites itself thickly with the body and that is able to act as a covering for that which exists within our souls. However, in the whole period from 747 B.C. to 1413 A.D. it was possible to bring up out of the soul that which in earlier times streamed in in the way I indicated. Just imagine how a person, particularly in the ancient Greek Age, actually had to perceive. Precisely in the ancient Greek Age he perceived as I have indicated. he said to himself: “Geometry as it is brought to expression in the form of architecture, flowed down earlier through divine spiritual instruction from the external would.” Man was hemmed in by forms. Now when man wants to draw a triangle, he takes a piece of chalk and draws it, but the ancient Greek did not have to do that. All he needed to do was to meditate upon himself and at the same time he could, as it were, clairvoyantly see the triangle for himself. Thus he was still able to diagram geometry for himself in a clairvoyant way. It was also so with writing in primal ages, but this applies to a still earlier period. There one did not need to write upon papyrus, but one was able to write clairvoyantly for oneself; you wrote for yourself clairvoyantly. At a certain time in the Greek Mysteries, man was told the following: you are able to have thoughts about yourself and meditate clearly upon yourself, you can then recall what lives in you. You can recall the divine being which lives in you when you do not just focus on the transient earth human being but recall the divine being in you, then you would be able to build up an architectural structure around you which is put together from the forms of geometry. You are within all of that. Just as the spider who spins her web is within it, thus such a student of the Greek Mysteries etherically spun geometry around himself, whole geometry and the other human knowledge is presented in itself in this geometrical structure which he spun out of himself. All he needed to do was establish it outside of himself and then he had the Greek Temple. The Greek Temple is nothing other than the filling in with physical material that which presented itself in this way clairvoyantly in geometrical forms around the human being. The Greek Temple only put the stones into that which appeared before the Greek. Hence the Greek always had the tendency to present a figure of the god in the Temple which he actually had to think of to himself as his own divine hunan being. He did not simply build a temple, but he also put in a divine god such as Pallas Athene.

Thus from all this you can see the connection of architecture, the building of the temple with the original clairvoyance. That person felt something in architecture of a divine nature in these times, something which is connected in the highest degree with all the inner revelations of the human being. They felt that one did not build in the way people build today where you learn all sorts of things at the university, but at that time man could perceive the architectural structure as the revelation of the Spirits of Form. For this reason, we can see the rather special way in which Vitruvius, the great architect of the time of Augustus, speaks of the architect, of the moral qualities which the architect must have, of recollecting the divine spiritual of the universe. And why was it necessary that according to Vetruvius' perception, the architect had to know all this? They saw the manifestations of the beings of the higher hierarchies in the forms of the buildings and this is of great significance. It is true that today's architect would make a face if you demanded that he also learn medicine, philosophy, astronomy, etc., besides his studies at the technical university; in other words, he would be a spiritual scientist of sorts.

Now, why was this so? It was so because Vetruvius, himself, was still able to perceive the following: “When I build” he said to himself “this finite human being is not allowed to build, but this finite human being must be a channel so that a being, of the higher hierarchies can work through him.” However, this possibility of coming into connection with the higher hierarchies so that when one puts stone upon stone in the building, not what finite man creates but what the spirits of the hierarchies create, this possibility was received only in the secret places of the mysteries. One had to be initiated into the connection of the divine spiritual with the human. One had to know medicine, because one had to so adapt the forms so that they could actually be an imprint of the human being himself. Note how in a similar way the shell of the snail is an imprint of the snail himself, how the macrocosm injects the forces into the snail enabling the snail to build the shell out of its own beingness. In a similar way man felt the working of the divine spiritual beings in him; a divine spiritual being led his hand, his own spirit and worked into the forms of architecture.

Now, because the forms of the architecture were the last which were revealed, all those spiritual brotherhoods of which I spoke last time, speak of the real architecture and of the soul mood which real architecture must have. Above all, there live in these occult brotherhoods, even if it is in caricature, that which entered from the spiritual world in the way just described. The person who enters the first grade enters into the spiritual world upon this path. He is presented in these occult communities in the second grade and is made familiar not with those external social relationships but with those relationships which pass from one human soul to another. He becomes a brother member in the second grade and finally he learns to feel in himself what it means to say: ‘Here I stand as a human being and I, as a man, feel that I am a sheath of that which lives in me as spirit man to whom beings of the higher hierarchies can speak, down to whom they can descend; that I can speak no word that is not inspired by these spirits of the higher hierarchies.’ Even if only a small consciousness of this is present in those who are in the third grade of such occult brotherhoods, nevertheless they still call themselves masters of the third grade. But because revelations do not occur any longer, because today things do not work so intensively, because today there is no longer a direct connection with the spiritual world, one has to take hold of the traditions of that which was handed down, then one spreads a mystery over it and does not allow it to be imparted to any one else. However, this primal knowledge was continued in such communities from generation to generation, from century to century and sometimes it was utilized in a very bad way as I indicated last time.

I have already indicated that during the whole time from the year 747 B.C. to 1413 A.D. there was a certain connection with the spiritual world. One could at least enliven it out of one's inner being in these years, one could at least enliven it out of memory. That ended in the 14th century. However, beyond the 14th century certain sensitive people did feel that the spirit still plays in, that if, for example, you want to understand the 15th, 16th, 17th century, you must get an idea that those were still times in which the breath of spiritual life still streamed over the earth. However, this gradually disappeared. In the time from the 14th, 15th, 16th, even from the 17th century, there were sensitive natures who knew: The spirit weaves and lives around us.

Now, I want to bring a fact to your attention. The present historian speaks about the time of Savonarola in the 15th century, for example, in such a way that he speaks of Florence as he does of a city today, because he cannot transplant himself into the soul mood of that time, into that mood where one could still experience something of the spiritual. Why was it that at that time in a certain week in Florence every person who you met on the street looked so very sad and walked with his head bent down and his eyes dimmed? This was because Savanarola had given a sermon on the previous Sunday and he had said: “If the moral aspect continues as it is, then the flood will break in.” And he ended it with the words: “I tell you, waters will flow over the earth.” When he spoke these words, they were enlivened with spirit. The spirit streamed out, and for a whole week the people of Florence dwelled under this spiritual influence. It was very sad.

One of the contemporaries of Savanarola was Pico della Mirandola, Count Mirandola, who lived at the end of the 15th century and also experienced the soul mood which lived in Florence. Pico della Mirandola was one of those spirits who belonged to the sensitive spirits and in that year which passes over from the 4th to the 5th period he felt how the spirit was disappearing from the environment and at the same time he received an inner yearning to feel the spirit. There were a number of people in Florence at that time who experienced this in the same way. They felt that the spirit disappears for the normal person, but they must try to receive it into themselves and these Renaissance men called themselves the Neo-Platonists. In the Academy of Florence, there was a reliving of Plato. I wanted to characterize this for you so that you can understand that there was a sudden transition from the 14th to the 15th century in the soul mood in reference to how these men connected themselves with the spiritual world. When you go back into those times, you can see that people yearned to receive impressions of the spiritual world, but these people were single people all over the world and they had to do special ascetic exercises so that they could receive something of the spiritual in a sort of caricature way. You know that modern science says that nature makes no jumps, but that is not true, it does jump everywhere. When the leaf transforms itself into the blossom, that is a jump. So we see that there was a sudden spring from the 14th to the 15th century and this feeling died away.

Our task is to appeal to those forces which we have as a replacement for the ancient way of grasping the spiritual. There are two ways of doing this. One way is to continue to propagate tradition and many secret societies arose from being satisfied with the propagation of what the ancient said through tradition. However, there were people who attempted to reckon with the new soul forces which came in as replacements for it. They attempted to translate that which came in from the ancient way in the form of pictures, of direct perception into the form of intellectual power, this intellect which is bound to the physical body of our 5th post-Atlantean period. One of the people who tried to do this was Amos Comenius.

Very few people today know that Amos Comenius was the actual founder of the modern pedagogy and that he founded the primer in the 16th, 17th century. A book by Friedrich Eckstein entitled Comenius and the Bohemian Brothers was recently published. Friedrich Eckstein is one of those people who was united with me in a small theosophical group in Vienna at the end of the 1880's. Then he went his own way and I had not heard of him until this book about Amos Comenius appeared. These 150 wood cuts from the original edition are given with German and Latin texts. Here you have wood cuts beginning with God, the world, heaven, the elementals, the elements, plants, fruits, animals, the human body and its members, etc., all of which was put in such a way as to appeal to the heart. This sort of presentation still appeals very much to people. Herder and Goethe loved all this in their childhood. The whole way of writing children's books rests upon Amos Comenius. He was connected with many secret brotherhoods all over Europe and he wanted to establish what he called his “Pan Sophia”. In the beginning of our period, in the 16th, 17th century, we have in Amos Comenius a human being who knew that now is the time for a sudden change, that one must transmute all the knowledge from earlier times into the form of external intellect. You do not simply continue it in the form of the ancient tradition. This tradition rests upon that which was the Temple architecture. Amos Comenius had as his task translating in his “Pan Sophia” everything which worked in the 5th post-Atlantean period and he says the following: “Why should the Temple of Pan Sophia be erected according to the ideas, directions and laws of the higher architect Himself? Because we have to follow the primal picture of the totality; measure, number, position and the goal of the paths according to the wisdom of God, Himself, when, indeed, He instructed Moses to erect the Tabernacle, then Solomon to erect the Temple and finally Ezekial to reestablish the Temple. The structure materials of Solomon's Temple were very precious stones, metals, marble and sappy, good smelling trees like spruce and cedar.” And so we want to establish a school of wisdom, a universal wisdom, a “Pan Sophia” wisdom so that one can say that that which is in Goethe's Wilhelm Meister, which was represented in the Wander Years, is a continuation of what Amos Comenius wanted.

In conclusion I want to add some more things. A book has recently been written by Karl Ludwig Sleiss entirely out of natural science. I just want to read something of it to you. (Summary of what was read) He talks about a hysterical young woman sitting on a sofa in a room where an electrical ventilator was running. She became hysterical and said: “Oh, there is a bee that wants to sting me.” She had heard the buzzing of the ventilator. Low and behold, she did produce an inflammation of the eyelid which was quite large. Here is another case where Sleiss talks about a well-known business man who approached him and asked him to cut off his arm because he felt that it was poisoned. Sleiss said that the arm was not poisoned. The man went away and the next day he died. Sleiss said that there was no inflection at all and his diagnosis was death by hysteria. What he wanted to say is that you cannot only cause an inflammation of the eyelid through thought, but you can also kill yourself through thought. What this modern scientist is saying is that thought can incarnate itself, that thought can make itself flesh. However, in the second case of the businessman who wanted his arm cut off because it was poisoned, this was a case of mediumistic clairvoyance where he knew he was going to die. Now, what happened in the case of the hysterical woman who had a swollen eyelid was that the thought that she imagined there was a bee from the sound of the ventilator became imagination and then descended into the astral body, it then came through the ether body and incarnated in the physical body.

In this same book in a chapter entitled “The Myth of Metabolism in the Brain”, Sleiss says that Goethe must have been some sort of clairvoyant, because Goethe had come to the idea that not only are the bones transformed out of the spinal column but also the whole brain has been transformed from it. Now, Sleiss said this in 1916 and he wondered if he could find some indication that Goethe had this idea. However he does not know that in 1892, I, myself, found this indication in the Goethe Archives.

Therefore we can see how certain truths of the spiritual world are penetrating into mankind's consciousness through certain channels. For example, they are talking about Strindberg's play of dream, “Tramspiel” which he produced and they can see the spiritual world breaking in everywhere. Strindberg worked in an extraordinary way and people are saying that there must be some spiritual communication there. Much streamed into Strindberg; however, everything is caricatured. Even that is very interesting for people today. For example, you can read the book Golom by Gustav Merig and you can find something there of which you can say that a stream of spiritual life breaks into mankind in a powerful way; however it is caricatured in forms where it can be more damaging than useful for those people who are not solidly established. Again you get a stream of the spiritual world breaking into the short story entitled “Cardinal Napaloos” (sic). In this story you find certain knowledge about the playing in of the Akashic Chronicle and so forth in a quite wonderful way. You can find indications of how the spiritual world wants to pour into mankind. It is very important to open our eyes to the fact that the spiritual world wants to pour into mankind today. We do not have to warm up ancient traditions, although they are interesting to study. We ought to meet the demands of the present. The spiritual worlds want to pour in. It comes unconsciously and is caricatured. However, when we develop ourselves according to spiritual science, it will not be caricatured; we can actually experience the spiritual world properly. through anthroposophical spiritual science, one can get an understanding for the opening up of our soul, our heart, our head, to the streams of the spiritual world.

On July 15, 1889, I was standing in the St. Leonhard cemetery near Graz with the writer Rosegger and the sculptor Hans Brandstetter as the body of the Austrian poet Robert Hamerling was lowered into the grave.¹ Robert Hamerling had been called from the physical plane a few days earlier. He died after decades of unutterable suffering that grew to an unbearable level at the end of his life. Prior to the burial, the body had been laid out in the beautiful Stifting House on the outskirts of the Austro-Styrian town of Graz. The physical form left behind by his great soul lay there, a wonderful reflection of a life of striving to reach the highest levels of the spirit: so expressive, so eloquent was this physical form. It also bore the imprint of the unspeakable suffering this poet had had to endure in his life!

On that occasion a little girl of ten could be seen among the closest mourners. She was Robert Hamerling's ward and had brightened and cheered the poet's last years with the promise of her character. She was the girl to whom Robert Hamerling had dedicated the lines that fundamentally reveal his mood in the last years of his life.² And because they let us see so deeply into Hamerling's soul, please permit me to read you these lines:

To B.(ertha)

Child, like a butterfly harmlessly
Fluttering past the pain-racked invalid,
When having seen me begin the homeward journey,
In the wake of suffering
Do not think of me in your flush of youth:
A fleeting thought is all that you would give;
Nor when happily in love, in marriage or in motherhood:
Your memory would be only a pale reflection in the bustle of your life.
Only at sixty years of age, please think of me:
The poor sick man you saw
Year after year stretched on a bed of suffering,
Who, tortured by unceasing pain,
Spoke little, save laborious groans;
Nothing was he to you and nothing could he be.
At sixty years of age, child, think of him:
Then you will muse on him, muse long,
And late, deep compassion will rise in you
For him then long at rest from suffering.
A teardrop fills your eye as offering
For him long paled in death,
Who nothing was to you, and nothing could be.

It is not necessary to describe the situation of a poet who could write lines that speak so powerfully of his suffering in virtually the entire second half of his life. There was much gossip, even after Hamerling had already been confined to his bed for a large part of his life, and allegations about the sybaritic life the author of “Ahasver” supposedly led. It was even rumored that he lived in a sumptuous house in Graz, and that he had a large number of girls for his pleasure, who had to perform Greek dances day after day and other such things. All these stories were told at a time when illness kept him laid up while the sun was shining outside. He was forced to stay in bed in his small room, knowing that outside the sun was shining on the meadows, on the glorious nature he had enjoyed so much in the brief periods he was able to leave his sickbed.

And this same bright sun was shining gloriously when we accompanied the deceased to his last resting place on July 15, 1889. There are few indeed who lived under such outward constraints and yet were devoted with every fiber of their soul to what is great, beautiful, monumental, magnificent, and joyous in the world.

I remember one time sitting with a young musician in Vienna who was a great friend of Hamerling's. This young man was essentially a poor fellow who soon succumbed to a mental illness. He was deeply pessimistic and never tired of complaining about life. And since he loved Hamerling a great deal, he loved to cite the poet in his complaints about life. On this occasion, the young musician once again wanted to quote Hamerling as a pessimist. As we were sitting together in a cafe, I was able to call for a newspaper that contained a small occasional poem by Hamerling entitled “Personal Request.” I showed it to the young musician.

Personal Request

Say that I write bad verses,
Say that I steal the silverware,
Say I'm a rotten German
Because my diet says I can't eat Jews
And Slavs for breakfast;
Or that I betray our Austria
Because I sing the praise of Bismarck.
Say that I'm stricken with grief because
Praise for me is sadly lacking,
Slandered I am basely on occasion—
But I ask one thing only:
Do not say that I'm a pessimist,
That the last word in my singing
Belongs to blasé-modern
Stupid, dull unhappiness with living!
What? The poet is a pessimist
Because he makes complaining noises?
Just because the world is lovely
And life seems so charming to him
He would painfully regret it
If his part he were to forfeit.
If you call pessimists all persons
Who complain, then pessimistic
Is the man from whom a cry
Escapes while he is at the dentist!
Everything the critics say, believe them,
Except that I'm a pessimist!
I hate this word. To me it smells
Rather like its final syllable.³

These words characterize Hamerling's attitude and show that he lived in greatest pain (he wrote as much to Rosegger) at the time of writing this poem “Personal Request.” He wrote to Rosegger: “I am not worried about becoming a pessimist, but I do fear going mad or becoming an imbecile, as sometimes I can manage only a few minutes respite from the never-ending pain!”⁴ The man who began his poetic career with words truly sounding like a lifetime's program was worried about going mad or becoming an imbecile, but not about becoming a pessimist. For when Robert Hamerling sent his first major poem, “Venus in Exile,” out into the world, he gave it the motto:

Go on your way, a holy messenger,
And sing in joyful tones
Of the dawning day,
Of the realm of beauty to come.

That was his attitude throughout his life. We must recall one very memorable scene if we want to fully understand Hamerling's unique nature. A few months or weeks before his death, he moved from his flat in Graz—where he lived on the street then called Realschulstrasse; now it is Hamerlingstrasse—to a small summer house, called Stifting House, situated in a secluded area on the outskirts of the town. Two servants had to carry the invalid down; his flat was three floors up. Several times he almost fainted. But on either side of him he had a parcel tied up with a broad ribbon, which went round his neck like a stole; they contained the wrapped manuscript of his last work, The Atomistic Will.⁵ This was characteristic of the way this poet lived and of what he loved. He did not want the manuscript of this philosophical work to leave his hands for even a minute! He was so ill that two servants had to carry him down; yet he had to hold on to the thing that filled his life. So he was carried down and taken out to Stifting House in the most beautiful sunshine, sighing, “Oh, what pleasure to ride like this; if only I were less ill, less ill!”

The soul and spirit at work under these physical conditions remained open to all that is great and beautiful, all that is filled with spirit in the world. It worked out of the wellsprings of greatness, beauty, and spirituality in such a way that we cannot really be surprised by his attitude to pessimism. We cannot be surprised to see in Hamerling's spirit living cosmic evidence that the spiritual forces in us can triumph over material and natural forces, however obstructive they may be, in every situation.

Fifty-nine years earlier, that is in 1830, Robert Hamerling was born in Austria in an area called Waldviertel.⁶ Because of its special natural configuration that region is eminently suited—and was probably more so then than now when it is crisscrossed by railroad lines—to concentrate the soul inwardly if it is awake and to deepen the soul. The Waldviertel region is basically a backwater of civilization, although someone was born and lived there in the first half of the nineteenth century who was also widely known in Austria this side of the river Leitha. He has probably been forgotten by now, and at most continues to live in the memory of the people in the Waldviertel, in numerous folk legends. I have to add that I often heard tell of this person's fame because my parents came from the Waldviertel area. Thus, I could at least hear about the remnants of his peculiar fame, which is characteristic of the atmosphere of cultural isolation in that region. This famous person was none other than one of the “most famous” robbers and murderers of the time, namely, Grasel. This Grasel was certainly more famous than anyone else who came from the Waldviertel region.

In his later years, Hamerling wrote about the Waldviertel area, and I want to read you just a few lines from what he said about his native region where he lived for the first ten or fifteen years of his life, because I believe these words can throw much greater light on Hamerling's nature than any academic characterization. He writes:

I do not know how much the construction of a railroad skirting the Waldviertel area has affected the latter's isolation from the world. In 1867, the appearance of a stranger still created quite a stir there. If such a person came along on foot or by coach, the oxen plowing the fields came to a halt and turned their heads to gawk at the new apparition. The farmer made one or two feeble attempts to drive them on with his whip—but in vain, and finally, he did likewise, and the plow rested until the stranger had disappeared behind the next hill or forest. That, too, is the image of an idyllic atmosphere!⁷

Hamerling's life and personality are an example of a soul growing out of and beyond its environment, and of an individuality's development. He was the son of a poor weaver. Since they were completely impoverished, his parents were evicted from their home at a time when Hamerling was not yet capable of even saying “I.” His father was forced to go abroad while his mother remained in the Waldviertel area, in Schonau, with the young boy. There the child experienced the beauties of the Waldviertel region. A scene from that time remained always in his memory of an experience he believed actually gave him his own being. The seven-year-old boy was going down a hill. It was evening, and the sun was setting in the west. Something came toward him, golden, out of the golden sunshine, and Hamerling describes what was shining forth in the golden light as follows:

Among the most significant memories of my boyhood, but also most difficult to convey, are the often strange moods that passed through my soul when I was a roaming boy. In part they came from the moment's lively impressions and stimulation, usually from nature around me, in part they were waking dreams and premonitions. Speaking about himself, the mystic Jakob Böhme used to say that the higher meaning, the mystical life of the spirit was awakened in him miraculously at the moment when he was dreamily absorbed in gazing at a pewter bowl sparkling in the sunlight. ^{8Jakob Böhme, 1575–1624. German mystic. He was first a shoemaker, then had a mystical experience in 1600.} Perhaps every spiritual person has a pewter bowl like Böhme's as the origin of his real inner awakening. I vividly recall a certain evening when I was about seven years old. I was going down a hill, and the sunset shone toward me like a miracle, a spiritual vision. It filled my heart with an unforgettably strange mood, with a presentiment that today seems to me like a calling, reflecting my future destiny. In high spirits, I hurried toward an unknown destination; yet, at the same time my soul was filled with a melancholy that made me want to cry. If that moment could have been explained out of the surrounding circumstances, if it had not been so completely unique, it would surely not have remained so indelibly in my memory.⁹

Thus, in the poet's seventh year the poetic and spiritual muse drew near. At that time, the seed for everything that was later to become of this soul was laid into it from out of the cosmos, so to speak. The nice thing is that Hamerling ascribes his poetic calling to such an event, as if it were a miracle the cosmos itself performed on him.

Because of his parents' poverty, the boy had to be educated at the Cistercian monastery of Zwettl.¹⁰ In return for his school lessons, he had to sing in the monastery choir. At that time, Hamerling was between ten and fourteen years old. He formed a close relationship to a strange personality at the monastery, namely, Father Hugo Traumihler, a person completely given over to mystical contemplation and a strict ascetic life. At that time the boy already possessed a thirst for the beauty of the cosmos and an urge to deepen his soul. You can imagine that he was inspired by the inner experiences Father Traumihler described from his inner contemplation of the secrets of the heart and soul. He was a mystic of a very elementary, primitive kind who nevertheless made a deep impression on Hamerling's soul.

But it is impossible to talk about the poet Hamerling without mentioning what was such a great part of his longing: the longing to be a great human being. When he returned on a trip to the Waldviertel long after he had left the area, people who knew that he came from there asked him what he wanted to be.¹¹ But although he was already well past twenty, Hamerling had not thought about what he wanted to be. This realization brought it home to him that at that age you cannot avoid the question “What do you want to do?” The only thing he could tell himself was: “Well, I cannot really tell them what I want to be, because they would not understand. For when I am asked what I want to be, I want to answer: I want to become a human being!” So sometimes he said he wanted to be a philologist or an astronomer or something like that. People could understand that. But they would not have understood that someone who had finished his studies might intend to become a human being.

Well, much could be said about the development of Hamerling as a poet and, above all, about the unfolding of three things in his soul. The first he later described in The Atomistic Will by saying that the Greeks called the universe “cosmos,” a word connected with beauty.¹² That, to him, was characteristic of the Greek spirit, for his soul was filled with the beauty that resonates throughout the universe. And his heart's desire was to see humankind in turn permeated by that beauty; that was what he wanted to express in poetic form. So everything in him strove toward beauty, toward the beauty-filled world of the Greeks. Yet he saw so many aspects of life that cast a pall over the beauty intended by nature. For him beauty was identical with spirituality. He would often survey everything he knew about Hellenism and then look with sadness at modern culture, the readers of his poetry. He wanted to write poetry for this modern culture in order to fill it with sounds that would encourage people to bring beauty and spirituality back into life, and thus return happiness to life on earth. Hamerling found it impossible to speak of a discrepancy between the world and beauty in human life. He was inspired by the belief that life should be infused with beauty, that beauty should be alive in the world, and from his youth on he would have preferred to live for that alone. It was like an instinct in his soul. But he had met with much that showed him the modern age must struggle through many things that frustrate our ideals in life.

Hamerling was a student in 1848. He was a member of the liberation movement and was arrested by the police for this “great crime” and given a special punishment, as happened to many who had been part of the liberation movement in Vienna at that time. If they went beyond what the police thought permissible, they were taken to the barber where their hair was cut as a sign that they were “democrats.” These days you no longer risk having your hair cut just because you hold liberal views—progress indeed! The other thing not allowed at that time was the wearing of a broad-brimmed hat. This again was taken as a sign of liberal views. One had to wear a so-called “topper,” a top hat, which had full police approval.

Hamerling had to put up with this and much else. Let me just mention one more event as a small indication of how the world treated the great poet; I believe it leads to a much better characterization than an abstract description. The event I am referring to happened when Hamerling had concluded his years at university and was about to take his teaching examination. He had good grades in Greek, Latin, and mathematics. Indeed, he received excellent grades on his Greek and Latin. But if we read further in his report card, we find that although Hamerling claimed to have read some grammar books, his performance in the examination did not indicate a thorough study of the German language. This was said of the man who has enriched the German language so immeasurably through his unique style!

I would like to draw your attention to another experience Hamerling had. In 1851, he became acquainted with a family and one evening was invited to stay for a party. He would have gladly joined them, but he could not stay. Then the daughter of the family had a glass of punch sent over to his student quarters. What were his feelings then? He suddenly had the urge to take pencil and paper, and he felt himself transported into another world. At first he saw images of world history, presented as if in a large tableau. Then these images were transformed into a chaos of blossoms, rot, blood, newts, golden fruits, blue eyes, harp music, destruction of life, the thunder of cannons, and quarreling people. Historical scenes alternated with blossoms and salamanders. Then, as if crystallizing from out of the whole, a pale, serious figure with penetrating eyes appeared. At the sight of this figure, Hamerling came to. He looked at the piece of paper. The paper, blank before the vision, had written on it the name Ahasver and below, the outline for the poem “Ahasver.”

Hamerling's interest in everything that moves the human soul to its heights and depths was of rare profundity, and combined with a drunkenness with beauty, so to speak. That is why the ten years he spent teaching high school in Trieste on the glorious Adriatic and taking his vacations in neighboring Venice may be described as a happy time for him. He got to know Venice so well that years later he still knew all the nooks and crannies and little alleys where he had walked many times on beautiful evenings. There he saw radiant nature and southern beauty, for which his soul had such a yearning. This southern beauty blossomed in “Greeting in Song from the Adriatic.” Like his early works, this poem shows Hamerling's extraordinary talent. It was followed by “Venus in Exile.” Hamerling conceived of Venus not only as the embodiment of earthly love, but as the bearer of the beauty that rules and holds sway in the cosmos, a beauty that is in exile as far as modern humanity is concerned. Robert Hamerling's longing as a poet was to liberate beauty and love from their exile. Hence the motto I read to you:

Go on your way, a holy messenger,
And sing in joyful tones
Of the dawning day,
Of the realm of beauty to come.

But Hamerling's soul could not sing of the “dawning day, / Of the realm of beauty to come” without looking into all the dark recesses of the human soul. The vision of Ahasver shows what Robert Hamerling saw in those recesses. It continued to stand before his soul until he found the poetic form for the personality of Ahasver. Ahasver became the thread running through human life as the personification of an individuality who wants to escape life but cannot. This individuality is then contrasted with that of Nero in Rome, a man always seeking life but unable to find it in sensual saturation and therefore eternally searching.

We can see how life's contradictions confronted Hamerling. This becomes even clearer in his poem “The King of Sion” where he describes a person who wants to bring spiritual salvation from lofty heights to his fellow human beings but falls prey to human weaknesses in the process, to sensuality and so on. Hamerling was always reflecting on the proximity of opposites in life, and he wanted to give this poetic form. Greece arose before his soul in the form to which he wanted to restore it. In Aspasia, he described the Greece of his imagination, the country of his yearning, the world of beauty, including the negative aspects such a world of beauty may also bear. In the form of a three-part novel, Aspasia became a wonderful poem about cultural history.

Robert Hamerling was not understood, as I learned when I met a man in a godforsaken place whose eyes burned with resentment and whose mouth had an ugly expression. I do not mean physical ugliness, of course; physical ugliness can actually radiate beauty of the highest degree. This man was one of the most vicious critics of Aspasia. In comparison with the beauty-filled poet, that man appeared to be one of the ugliest men, and it was clear why his bitter soul could not understand Hamerling.

All of Robert Hamerling's endeavors were of this order. There would be much to tell if I were to recount the whole of his progress through history. He sought to deal with Dante and Robespierre, ending with Homunculus, in whom he wished to embody all of the grotesqueness of modern culture. There would also be much to tell if I were to describe how Hamerling's lyrical muse sought to find the reflective sounds permeating his works in the beauty and colors of nature and in the spirit of nature. Again, there would be much to say if I wanted to give you even just an idea of how Hamerling's lyrical poetry is alive with everything that can comfort our souls regarding the small things in the great ones, or how his poems can give us the invincible faith that the kingdom of beauty will triumph in the human soul however much the demons of discord and ugliness might try to establish their rule. Hamerling's soul suffered in life; yet in the midst of the deepest, most painful suffering, his soul could find joy in the beauty of spiritual activity. His soul could see the discords of the day all around, and yet could immerse itself deeply in the beauty of the night when the starry heavens rose above the waters. Hamerling was able to give meaningful expression to this mood.

I wanted to describe briefly, by means of a few episodes out of Hamerling's life, an image of Robert Hamerling as a poet of the late nineteenth century who was filled with an invincible awareness of the better future of humanity because he was steeped completely in the truth of the beauty of the universe. At the same time, he was a poet who could describe how the spirit can be victorious in us over all the material obstacles and hindrances to our spiritual nature.

It is impossible to understand the poet Hamerling without reference to his lifelong effort to answer the question: How do I become a human being? Everything he created has human greatness, though not always poetic excellence, for Hamerling's stature as a poet is a consequence of his human greatness. When he saw disharmony in life, Hamerling always felt an invincible urge in his soul to find the corresponding harmony, to find the way in which all things ugly must dissolve into beauty when we look at them rightly.

In conclusion, I want to read you a small, insignificant poem typical of Hamerling. In conception and thought it belongs to his early years, but it does characterize the mood, albeit in primitive poetic simplicity, that accompanied him throughout his life:

The Lion and the Rose

On a deep red rose
The angry lion trod
His paw caught fast the thorn
Of this delicate bud.

His paw swelled large;
In angry pain he died.
Refreshed, the red rose drank
The early morning dew.

Be the delicate ever so delicate,
The rough ever so rough,
That which is fragile, gentle, pure—
Beauty, triumphs over all.¹³

This mood—we can see it in everything he wrote—accompanied Hamerling through his life:

Be the delicate ever so delicate,
The rough ever so rough,
That which is fragile, gentle, pure—
Beauty, triumphs over all.

• 1. PeterRosegger, 1843–1918, Austrian poet and novelist. Hans Brandstetter, 1854–1925, Austrian sculptor. Robert Hamerling, pseudonym of Rupert Hammerling 1830–1889, Austrian poet. Best known for his epics Ahasverus in Rom 1865 and Homunculus (1888).
• 2. “An B(ertha),” Hamerling's last poem; written in the Stiftin House on June 18, 1889, three weeks before his death. In Letzte Grüsse aus Stiftinghaus, in Hamerlings Sämtliche Werke (Hamerling's Collected Works), Leipzig 1893, 16 volumes, edited by Michael Rabenlechner, vol. 15, p. 90.
• 3“The Pessimist” in Letzte Grüsse aus Stiftinghaus, p. 91. Translator's note. The final syllable of the German word “Pessimist” (mist) means “dung” in English.
• 4. Letter of June 11, 1888, in Peter Rosegger, Persönliche Erinnerungen an Robert Hamerling, Vienna 1891, p. 177.
• 5. Hamerling's philosophical work, published in 1891.
• 6. The Waldviertel is a region in northwestern Lower Austria.
• 7Robert Hamerling, “Die schönste Gegend der Erde,” vol. 16 in his Collected Works, p. 134, and “Stationen meiner Lebenspilgerschaft,” same volume, p. 17.
• 9. Hamerling, “Stationen meiner Lebenspilgerschaft,” p. 17.
• 10. “Stationen meiner Lebenspilgerschaft”, p. 45.
• 11. “People still have the bad habit of asking me what I want to become—well, a human being!” from “Lehrjahre der Liebe,” in Tagebuchblätter und Briefe (Diaries and Letters), entry of April 13, 1851. Volume 14 in Hamerling's Collected Works.
• 12. Literally: “The Greeks called the universe ‘beauty’ (cosmos).” In Atomtstik des Willens, Hamburg 1891, vol. 11, p. 226.
• 13. In Letzte Grüsse aus Stiftinghaus, vol. 15 in Hamerling's Collected Works, pp. 34–35.

In the last two lectures I tried to indicate the point in time when the scientific outlook and manner of thinking, such as we know it today, arose in the course of time. It was pointed out yesterday that the whole character of this scientific thinking, emerging at the beginning most clearly in Copernicus’ conception of astronomy, depends on the way in which mathematical thinking was gradually related to the reality of the external world. The development of science in modern times has been greatly affected by a change—one might almost say a revolutionary change—in human perception in regard to mathematical thinking itself. We are much inclined nowadays to ascribe permanent and absolute validity to our own manner of thinking.

Nobody notices how much matters have changed. We take a certain position today in regard to mathematics and to the relationship of mathematics to reality. We assume that this is the way it has to be and that this is the correct relationship. There are debates about it from time to time, but within certain limits this is regarded as the true relationship. We forget that in a none too distant past mankind felt differently concerning mathematics. We need only recall what happened soon after the point in time that I characterized as the most important in modern spiritual life, the point when Nicholas Cusanus presented his dissertation to the world. Shortly after this, not only did Copernicus try to explain the movements of the solar system with mathematically oriented thinking of the kind to which we are accustomed today, but philosophers such as Descartes and Spinoza²⁴ began to apply this mathematical thought to the whole physical and spiritual universe.

Even in such a book as his Ethics, the philosopher Spinoza placed great value on presenting his philosophical principles and postulates, if not in mathematical formulae—for actual calculations play no special part—yet in such a manner that the whole form of drawing conclusions, of deducing the later rules from earlier ones, is based on the mathematical pattern. By and by it appeared self-evident to the men of that time that in mathematics they had the right model for the attainment of inward certainty. Hence they felt that if they could express the world in thoughts arranged in the same clear-cut architectural order as in a mathematical or geometrical system, they would thereby achieve something that would have to correspond to reality. If the character of scientific thinking is to be correctly understood, it must be through the special way in which man relates to mathematics and mathematics relates to reality. Mathematics had gradually become what I would term a self-sufficient inward capacity for thinking. What do I mean by that?

The mathematics existing in the age of Descartes²⁵ and Copernicus can certainly be described more or less in the same terms as apply today. Take a modern mathematician, for example, who teaches geometry, and who uses his analytical formulas and geometrical concepts in order to comprehend some physical process. As a geometrician, this mathematician starts from the concepts of Euclidean geometry, the three-dimensional space (or merely dimensional space, if he thinks of non-Euclidean geometry.)²⁶ In three-dimensional space he distinguishes three mutually perpendicular directions that are otherwise identical. Space, I would say, is a self-sufficient form that is simply placed before one's consciousness in the manner described above without questions being raised such as: Where does this form come from? Or, Where do we get our whole geometrical system?

In view of the increasing superficiality of psychological thinking, it was only natural that man could no longer penetrate to those inner depths of soul where geometrical thought has its base. Man takes his ordinary consciousness for granted and fills this consciousness with mathematics that has been thought-out but not experienced. As an example of what is thought-out but not experienced, let us consider the three perpendicular dimensions of Euclidean space. Man would have never thought of these if he had not experienced a threefold orientation within himself. One orientation that man experiences in himself is from front to back. We need only recall how, from the external modern anatomical and physiological point of view, the intake and excretion of food, as well as other processes in the human organism, take place from front to back. The orientation of these specific processes differs from the one that prevails when, for example, I do something with my right arm and make a corresponding move with my left arm. Here, the processes are oriented left and right. Finally, in regard to the last orientation, man grows into it during earthly life. In the beginning he crawls on all fours and only gradually, stands upright, so that this last orientation flows within him from above downward and up from below.

As matters stand today, these three orientations in man are regarded very superficially. These processes—front to back, right to left or left to right, and above to below—are not inwardly experienced so much as viewed from outside. If it were possible to go back into earlier ages with true psychological insight, one would perceive that these three orientations were inward experiences for the men of that time. Today our thoughts and feelings are still halfway acknowledged as inward experiences, but he man of a bygone age had a real inner experience, for example, of the front-to-back orientation. He had not yet lost awareness of the decrease in intensity of taste sensations from front to back in the oral cavity. The qualitative experience that taste was strong on the tip of the tongue, then grew fainter and fainter as it receded from front to back, until it disappeared entirely, was once a real and concrete experience. The orientation from front to back was felt in such qualitative experiences. Our inner life is no longer as intense as it once was. Therefore, today, we no longer have experiences such as this. Likewise man today no longer has a vivid feeling for the alignment of his axis of vision in order to focus on a given point by shifting the right axis over the left. Nor does he have a full concrete awareness of what happens when, in the orientation of right-left, he relates his right arm and hand to the left arm and hand. Even less does he have a feeling that would enable him to say: The thought illuminates my head and, moving in the direction from above to below, it strikes into my heart. Such a feeling, such an experience, has been lost to man along with the loss of all inwardness of world experience. But it did once exist. Man did once experience the three perpendicular orientation of space within himself. And these three spatial orientations—right-left, front-back, and above-below—are the basis of the three-dimensional framework of space, which is only the abstraction of the immediate inner experience described above.

So what can we say when we look back at the geometry of earlier times? We can put it like this: It was obvious to a man in those ages that merely because of his being human the geometrical elements revealed themselves in his own life. By extending his own above-below, right-left, and front-back orientations, he grasped the world out of his own being.

Try to sense the tremendous difference between this mathematical feeling bound to human experience, and the bare, bleak mathematical space layout of analytical geometry, which establishes a point somewhere in abstract space, draws three coordinating axes at right angles to each other and thus isolates this thought-out space scheme from all living experience. But man has in fact torn this thought-out spatial diagram out of his own inner life. So, if we are to understand the origin of the later mathematical way of thinking that was taken over by science, if we are to correctly comprehend its self-sufficient presentation of structures, we must trace it back to the self-experienced mathematics of a bygone age. Mathematics in former times was something completely different. What was once present in a sort of dream-like experience of three-dimensionality and then became abstracted, exists today completely in the unconscious. As a matter of fact, man even now produced mathematics from his own three-dimensionality. But the way in which he derives this outline of space from his experiences of inward orientation is completely unconscious. None of this rises into consciousness except the finished spatial diagram. The same is true of all completed mathematical structures. They have all been severed from their roots. I chose the example of the space scheme, but I could just as well mention any other mathematical category taken from algebra or arithmetic. They are nothing but schemata drawn from immediate human experience and raised into abstraction.

Going back a few centuries, perhaps to the fourteenth century, and observing how people conceived of things mathematical, we find that in regard to numbers they still had an echo of inward feelings. In an age in which numbers had already become an abstract ads they are today, people would have been unable to find the names for numbers. The words designating numbers are often wonderfully characteristic. Just think of the word “two.” (zwei) It clearly expresses a real process, as when we say entzweien, “to cleave in twain.” Even more, it is related to zweifeln, “to doubt.” It is not mere imitation of an external process when the number two, zwei, is described by the word Entzweien, which indicates the disuniting, the splitting, of something formerly a whole. It is in fact something that is inwardly experienced and only then made into a scheme. It is brought up from within, just as the abstract three-dimensional space-scheme is drawn up from inside the mind.

We arrive back at an age of rich spiritual vitality that still existed in the first centuries of Christianity, as can be demonstrated by the fact that mathematics, mathesis, and mysticism were considered to be almost one and the same. Mysticism, mathesis, and mathematics are one, though only in a certain connection. For a mystic of the first Christian centuries, mysticism was something that one experienced more inwardly in the soul. Mathematics was the mysticism that one experienced more outwardly with the body; for example, geometry with the body's orientations to front-and-back, right-and-left, and up-and-down. One could say that actual mysticism was soul mysticism and that mathematics, mathesis, was mysticism of the corporeality. Hence, proper mysticism was inwardly experienced in what is generally understood by this term; whereas mathesis, the other mysticism, as experienced by means of an inner experience of the body, as yet not lost.

As a matter of fact, in regard to mathematics and the mathematical method Descartes and Spinoza still had completely different feelings from what we have today. Immerse yourself in these thinkers, not superficially as in the practice today when one always wants to discover in the thinkers of old the modern concepts that have been drilled into our heads, but unselfishly, putting yourself mentally in their place. You will find that even Spinoza still retained something of a mystical attitude toward the mathematical method.

The philosophy of Spinoza differs from mysticism only in one respect. A mystic like Meister Eckhart or Johannes Tauler²⁷ attempts to experience the cosmic secrets more in the depths of feeling. Equally inwardly, Spinoza constructs the mysteries of the universe along mathematical, methodical lines, not specifically geometrical lines, but lines experienced mentally by mathematical methods. In regard to soul configuration and mood, there is no basic difference between the experience of Meister Eckhart's mystical method and Spinoza's mathematical one. Anyone how makes such a distinction does not really understand how Spinoza experienced his Ethics, for example, in a truly mathematical-mystical way. His philosophy still reflects the time when mathematics, mathesis, and mysticism were felt as one and the same experience in the soul.

Now, you will perhaps recall how, in my book The Case for Anthroposophy,²⁸ I tried to explain the human organization in a way corresponding to modern thinking. I divided the human organization—meaning the physical one—into the nerve-sense system, the rhythmic system, and the metabolic-limb system. I need not point out to you that I did not divide man into separate members placed side by side in space, although certain academic persons have accused²⁹ me of such a caricature. I made it clear that these three systems interpenetrate each other. The nerve-sense system is called the “head system” because it is centered mainly in the head, but it spreads out into the whole body. The breathing and blood rhythms of the chest system naturally extend into the head organization, and so on. The division is functional, not local. An inward grasp of this threefold membering will give you true insight into the human being.

Let us now focus on this division for a certain purpose. To begin with, let us look at the third member of the human organization, that of digestion (metabolism) and the limbs. Concentrating on the most striking aspect of this member, we see that man accomplishes the activities of external life by connecting his limbs with his inner experiences. I have characterized some of these, particularly the inward orientation experience of the three directions of space. In his external movements, in finding his orientation in the world, man's limb system achieves inward orientation in the three directions. In walking, we place ourselves in a certain manner into the experience of above-below. In much that we do with our hands or arms, we bring ourselves into the orientation of right-and-left. To the extent that speech is a movement of the aeriform in man, we even fit ourselves into direction of front-and-back, back-and-front, when we speak. Hence, in moving about in the world, we place our inward orientation into the outer world.

Let us look at the true process, rather than the merely illusionary one, in a specific mathematical case. It is an illusionary process, taking place purely in abstract schemes of thought, when I find somewhere in the universe a process in space, and I approach it as an analytical mathematician in such a way that I draw or imagine the three coordinate axes of the usual spatial system and arrange this external process into Descartes’ purely artificial space scheme.

This is what occurs above, in the realm of thought schemes, through the nerve-sense system. One would not achieve a relationship to such a process in space if it were not for what one does with one's limbs, with one's whole body, if it were not for inserting oneself into the whole world in accordance with the inward orientation of above-below, right-left, and front-back. When I walk forward, I know that on one hand I place myself in the vertical direction in order to remain upright. I am also aware that in walking I adjust my direction to the back-to-front orientation, and when I swim and use my arms, I orient myself in right and left. I do not understand all this if I apply Descartes’ space scheme, the abstract scheme of the coordinate axes. What gives me the impression of reality in dealing with matters of space is found only when I say to myself: Up in the head, in the nerve system, an illusory image arises of something that occurs deep down in the subconscious. Here, where man cannot reach with his ordinary consciousness, something takes place between his limb system and the universe. The whole of mathematics, of geometry, is brought up out of our limb system of movement. We would not have geometry if we did not place ourselves into the world according to inward orientation. In truth, we geometrize when we lift what occurs in the subconscious into the illusory of the thought scheme. This is the reason why it appears so abstractly independent to us. But his is something that this only come about in recent times. In the age in which mathesis, mathematics, was still felt to be something close to mysticism, the mathematical relationship to all things was also viewed as something human.

Where is the human factor if I imagine an abstract point somewhere in space crossed by three perpendicular directions and then apply this scheme to a process perceived in actual space? It is completely divorced from man, something quite inhuman. This non-human element, which has appeared in recent times in mathematical thinking, was once human. But when was it human?

The actual date has already been indicated, but the inner aspect is still to be described. When was it human? It was human when man did not only experience in his movements and his inward orientation in space that he stepped forward from behind and moved in such a way that he was aware of his vertical as well as the horizontal direction, but when he also felt the blood's inward activity in all such moving about, in all such inner geometry. There is always blood activity when I move forward. Think of the blood activity present when, as an infant, I lifted myself up from the horizontal to an upright position! Behind man's movements, behind his experience of the world by virtue of movements, (which can also be, and at one time was, an inward experience) there stands the experience of the blood. Every movement, small or large, that I experience as I perform it contains its corresponding blood experience. Today blood is to us the red fluid that seeps out when we prick our skin. We can also convince ourselves intellectually of its existence. But in the age when mathematics, mathesis, was still connected with mysticism, when in a dreamy way the experience of movement was inwardly connected with that of blood, man was inwardly aware of the blood. It was one thing to follow the flow of blood through the lungs and quite another to follow it through the head. Man followed the flow of the blood in lifting his knee or his foot, and he inwardly felt and experienced himself through and through in his blood. The blood has one tinge when I raise my foot, another when I place it firmly on the ground. When I lounge around and doze lazily, the blood's nuance differs from the one it has when I let thoughts shoot through my head. The whole person can take on a different form when, in addition to the experience of movement, he has that of the blood. Try to picture vividly what I mean. Imagine that you are walking slowly, one step at a time; you begin to walk faster; you start to run, to turn yourself, to dance around. Suppose that you were doing all this, not with today's abstract consciousness, but with inward awareness: You would have a different blood experience at each stage, with the slow walking, then the increase in speed, the running, the turning, the dancing. A different nuance would be noted in each case. If you tried to draw this inner experience of movement, you would perhaps have to sketch it like this (white line.) But for each position in which you found yourself during this experience of movement, you would draw a corresponding inward blood experience (red, blue, yellow—see Figure 2)

Of the first experience, that of movement, you would say that you have it in common with external space, because you are constantly changing your position. The second experience, which I have marked by means of the different colors, is a time experience, a sequence of inner intense experiences.

In fact, if you run in a triangle, you can have one inner experience of the blood. You will have a different one if you run in a square.

What is outwardly quantitative and geometric, is inwardly intensely qualitative in the experience of the blood.

It is surprising, very surprising, to discover that ancient mathematics spoke quite differently about the triangle and the square. Modern nebulous mystics describe great mysteries, but there is no great mystery here. It is only what a person would have experienced inwardly in the blood when he walked the outline of a triangle or a square, not to mention the blood experience corresponding to the pentagram. In the blood the whole of geometry becomes qualitative inward experience. We arrive back at a time when one could truly say, as Mephistopheles does in Goethe's Faust, “Blood is a very special fluid.”³⁰ This is because, inwardly experienced, the blood absorbs all geometrical forms and makes of them intense inner experiences. Thereby man learns to know himself as well. He learns to know what it means to experience a triangle, a square, a pentagram; he becomes acquainted with the projection of geometry on the blood and its experiences. This was once mysticism. Not only was mathematics, mathesis, closely related to mysticism, it was in fact the external side of movement, of the limbs, while the inward side was the blood experience. For the mystic of bygone times all of mathematics transformed itself out of a sum of spatial formations into what is experienced in the blood, into an intensely mystical rhythmic inner experience.

We can say that once upon a time man possessed a knowledge that he experienced, that he was an integral part of; and that at the point in time that I have mentioned, he lost this oneness of self with the world, this participation in the cosmic mysteries. He tore mathematics loose from his inner being. No longer did he have the experience of movement; instead, he mathematically constructed the relationships of movement outside. He no longer had the blood experience; the blood and its rhythm became something quite foreign to him. Imagine what this implies: Man tears mathematics free from his body and it becomes something abstract. He loses his understanding of the blood experience. Mathematics no longer goes inward. Picture this as a soul mood that arose at a specific time. Earlier, the soul had a different mood than later. Formerly, it sought the connection between blood experience and experience of movement; later, it completely separated them. It no longer related the mathematical and geometrical experience to its own movement. It lost the blood experience. Think of this as real history, as something that occurs in the changing moods of evolution. Verily, a man who lived in the earlier age, when mathesis was still mysticism, put his whole soul into the universe. He measured the cosmos against himself. He lived in astronomy.

Modern man inserts his system of coordinates into the universe and keeps himself out of it. Earlier, man sensed a blood experience with each geometrical figure. Modern man feels no blood experience; he loses the relationship to his own heart, where the blood experiences are centered. Is it imaginable that in the seventh or eighth century, when the soul still felt movement as a mathematical experience and blood as a mystical experience, anybody would have founded a Copernican astronomy with a system of coordinates simply inserted into the universe and totally divorced from man? No, this became possible only when a specific soul constitution arose in evolution. And after that something else became possible as well. The inward blood awareness was lost. Now the time had come to discover the movements of the blood externally through physiology and anatomy. Hence you have this change in evolution: On one hand Copernican astronomy, on the other the discovery of the circulation of the blood by Harvey,³¹ a contemporary of Bacon and Hobbes. A world view gained by abstract mathematics cannot produce anything like the ancient Ptolemaic theory, which was essentially bound up with man and the living mathematics he experienced within himself. Now, one experiences an abstract system of coordinates starting with an arbitrary zero point. No longer do we have the inward blood experience; instead, we discover the physical circulation of the blood with the heart in the center.

The birth of science thus placed itself into the whole context of evolution in both its conscious and unconscious processes. Only in this way, out of the truly human element, can one understand what actually happened, what had to happen in recent times for science—so self-evident today—to come into being in the first place. Only thus could it even occur to anybody to conduct such investigations as led, for example, to Harvey's discovery of the circulation of the blood. We shall continue with this tomorrow.

• 24. Spinoza, Benedictus: Amsterdam 1632–1677. The Hague. Philosopher, mathematician, had Humanistic and Talmudistic training. By vocation, optician and politician. His main work Ethics with the characteristic full title Ethica Ordine Geometrica Demonstrata (Ethic Represented by Geometric Method) could only be published by his friends after his death. See Mysticism at the Dawn of the Modern Age and Riddles of Philosophy.
• 25. René Descartes: Lat., Renatus Cartenius, Le Haye (Tourraine) 1598–1650 Stockholm. Mathematician, physicist, philosopher. Educated by the Jesuits in La Fleche, he first became a soldier and was part of some campaigns but turned away from outer life to enter into the loneliness of a striver for knowledge, living first in Paris and then for a long time in Holland. He died in Stockholm, having been called there by Queen Christine. For him, doubt of tradition, but also of all sense perception, was the starting point of his philosophy and he found in self-consciousness the security of all being (“Cogito ergo Sum”). He developed the method of analytical geometry and gave an explanation of the rainbow. Main works: Essays, 1637, in it “Discours de la Methode and Dioptiric,” “Meditationes de Prima Philosophia,” 1641; “Passions de L'Ame,” 1650. See Riddles of Philosophy.
• 26. Non-Euclidian geometry is a prime example of “the self-contained inner ability to think.” C. Friedrich Gauss (1777–1855) discovered first that one can think more than only a geometric system. Because nobody understood this, he decided not to publish his results and to withdraw from the fruitless quarrel. Independently of Gauss in 1828 N.I. Lobatschewskij and in 1829 J. Boljai first published their solutions to the same problem. Rudolf Steiner often spoke about the meaning of this achievement, as in Wege und Ziele des geistigen Menschen in the lecture “Der Heutige Stand der Philosophie und Wissenschaft,” (Dornach, Switzerland: Rudolf Steiner Verlag, 1973; GA Bibl. Nr. 125). See also: Georg Unger, Physic am Scheidewege (Dornach: 1948), pages 19–28, and Vom Bielden Physikalischer Begriffe, Vol. 3 (Stuttgart: 1967), pages 31–32 and 193–194.
• 27. Johannes Tauler: About 1300–1361 Strasbourg. Preacher and pastor, Dominican, mystic, student of Meister Eckhart. Sermons and writings in German by W. Lehmann, 1923; see also Mysticism at the Dawn of the Modern Age, the chapter “Friendship with God.”
• 28. Rudolf Steiner, The Case for Anthroposophy (London: Rudolf Steiner Press, 1970).
• 29. In a reply to two lectures, which Walter Johannes Stein and Eugen Kolisko gave to defend two articles on “Anthroposophy as Science” in the Goettingen newspaper, Hugo Fuchs, Professor of Anatomy, spoke sarcastically of a human being with head, breast, and belly system. (From a report of the newspaper Die Dreigliederung des Sozialen Organismus, August 1920, No. 5).
• 30. From Goethe's Faust, Part I, the scene in the Student Room with Faust and Mephisto. See Rudolf Steiner, The Occult Significance of the Blood (London: Rudolf Steiner Press, 1967).
• 31. William Harvey, 1578–1658, physiologist, Professor of Anatomy, London, discoverer of the main bloodstream: De Motu Cordis et Sanguinis (1628).

On the foundation of the material of the preceding lecture I must summarise some things calculated to throw light on the whole of what we considered and indeed to make it fruitful. Although all this can only be a preliminary outline, it is well that we are able to give two days to this study. In continuing our yesterday's subject which referred to the development and retrogression of the teeth I want to put before you some facts which should throw light on man in the state of health and sickness. It is inadvisable to take such explanations on too materialistic lines; for we should really regard such external occurrence, as, for instance, dental decay as the visible symptoms of a certain inner process; this process hides itself from external perception, but has consequences which are externally visible.

You will understand the whole process of dental formation, if viewed in the light of other processes in mankind, which appear quite remote; for instance, the phenomenon with which you are well acquainted but whose correct significance can only be judged in connection with tooth formation. Girls and young women have good teeth—and after their first confinement and childbirth their teeth are defective. This circumstance should help to explain the connection of toothache and defective teeth with the whole bodily constitution. There is another very interesting connection, between dental processes and the tendency to hæmorrhoids or piles; this also needs study. A study of these things proves that what has the most mineralising effect in the body of man—for dental formation is our most mineralising process—is also closely associated with the general process of organisation and shows this association and interdependence in the human area most distant on the mouth and teeth. Here is a significant fact with regard the process of dental formation, which cannot be disputed. The completion of this dental formative process—the external cusp of the tooth which projects from the gums, is a region of the human frame which is given up to the external world as something mineral. Here the substance of the external layer (enamel) merges into the mineral world, nutritive processes are eliminated and a piece of inorganic substance is left. I indicated yesterday that the progressive development of dental structure is perhaps less important than the process of decomposition which accompanies the formation of the teeth throughout life. For on the one hand, it must be admitted that at this pole of the organisation at which the extremity of the tooth develops, the internal organisation cannot contribute very much to the formative process. But we must not forget that this internal organisation is closely involved in the destructive process, and therefore the more important and urgent question is how to retard the tendency in man to the destruction of this process. It would be a complete mistake to believe destruction and decay are purely the result of external injuries. My remarks yesterday on the function of fluorine in the formation of our teeth, refer mainly to the period of childhood, in which the formative process takes place from inside towards the surface and is in its preparatory stage. For it prepares itself deep in the interior of the whole organism before the second teeth appear. This formative process of fluorine reaches its culminating point in a stable equilibrium—brought about in the substance on the surface of the teeth; the fluorine becomes fixed here to the substance and is, as it were, at rest. But this rest is disturbed by the regressive development of the teeth, which approach gradual decay. This is a subtle process, starting from the tooth and connected with a formative process caused by the fluorine extending throughout the body, and yet continued throughout the whole life of man.

What I have just maintained sets the stage for the whole prophylaxis of the condition. Now I could say something of this sort: a considerable part of what is included in the educational methods of our Waldorf School, besides other things promoting health, is the prevention of early dental decay in those who attend the school for it is indeed remarkable that just in relation to the peripheral structures and processes very much depends upon the right education in childhood. It is regrettable that we are only able to work upon the child at a time—even at the Waldorf School—when it is somewhat too late for the prophylactic treatment necessary to dental formation. we ought to be able to start this work on younger children. However, as teeth do not appear all at once, but gradually, and the internal process is of longer duration, it is still possible to do something with children from six to seven years of age. Something—but certainly not enough. For it is advisable—as I have already emphasised—to ascertain the exact individual dental type. As soon as the first tooth makes its appearance of course it is possible to raise the objection that the dental formation is already prepared and that the crown of the tooth is perfected and only thrusts itself into the light. Yes, that is true, but it is possible to judge dental formative process from other indications than the teeth themselves. If a child of from four to six years old is clumsy and awkward with arms, hands, legs and feet—or cannot adapt himself to a skillful use of his arms and legs and especially of his hands and feet, we shall find that he is inclined to an abnormal process of dental formation. The behaviour of limbs and extremities reveals the same constitutional type as is shown in the dental formative process. Therefore a great influence is exercised on dental formation if we teach children as early as possible to run with dexterity, with intricate movements of the feet such as a kind of modified hopscotch in which the rear foot is brought with some force against the heel of the front foot, or similar exercises. If this is connected with an acquirement of skill in the fingers it will promote the tooth formation very considerably.

Go into our needlework classes and handicraft classes at the Waldorf School, and you will find the boys knit and crochet as well as the girls, and that they share these lessons together. Even the older boys are enthusiastic knitters. This is not the result of any fad or whim, but happens deliberately in order to make the fingers skillful and supple, in order to permeate the fingers with the soul. And to drive the soul into the fingers means to promote all the forces that go to build up sound teeth. It is no matter of indifference whether we let an indolent child sit about all day long, or make it move and run about; or whether we let a child be awkward and helpless with its hands, or train it to manual skill. Sins of omission in these matters bear fruit later in the early destruction of the teeth; of course sometimes in more pronounced forms, and sometimes in less, for there is great individual diversity, but they are bound to manifest themselves. In fact, the earlier we begin to train and discipline the child, on the lines indicated, the more we shall tend to slow down and counteract the process of dental decay. Any interference with dental processes is so difficult that we should carefully consider such measures even if they seem to be far-fetched.

Now this question is before me: How is fluorine absorbed into the organism; through the enamel, through the saliva, through the pulp or by the blood channels?

Fluorine in itself is one of the formative processes of man and it is somewhat beside the mark to speculate about the precise manner of its absorption. As a rule, we need only consider the normal nutritive process of everyday, by which substances containing various fluorine compounds are incorporated. Now follow this normal process of nutrition, which distributes fluorine to the periphery in the directions and to the regions where it is to be deposited. It is important to know that fluorine is much more widely distributed than is generally supposed. Much is contained in plants of the most different varieties—that is, comparatively speaking, for very little is required by man. But the process of fluorine formation is present in plants, even when fluorine itself is not chemically demonstrable; we shall refer to this presently in greater detail. Indeed fluorine is always present in water, even in our drinking water, so there is no difficulty in getting at it. It is only a matter of our organism being so constructed as to master and perform the highly complicated process of fluorine absorption. In the customary terminology of medicine, one may say that fluorine is carried to its destination through the blood channels.

Then I come to the inquiry whether the enamel of the teeth still receives nutrition after the teeth have been cut. No, this is not the case, as may appear from what has already been stated. But something else takes place, to which I would now call your attention. It might be expressed as follows: from the standpoint of spiritual research, around the growing teeth there is a remarkable activity of the human etheric body which is freed from the physical organisation or only loosely attached to it. This activity, which can be quite distinctly observed, forms as it were a constant etheric movement of organising around the jaws. Such a free organisation does not exist in the lower abdominal region; in that area it unites itself most closely with the physical organic activity, and thence arise the phenomena to which I have already referred. Thus, when there is a separation of the etheric body's activity from the physical organisation, e.g., during pregnancy, immediately at the opposite pole of the organism, pronounced changes in the teeth are brought about. Hæmorrhoids are another consequence of separation between the etheric and physical bodies, each “going their own way” But the fact that in this extremity of the human frame, the etheric body becomes independent implies that at the other pole the etheric body is drawn into the physical organisation, and destructive processes come into operation. For all things which increase organic activities—as for instance in the normal way in pregnancy, and in the abnormal way in diseases—all things which are stimulants to healthy functions have on the other hand concurrent effects on the dental structure where they work destructively. This is what should be especially noted.

What we do as an interplay between feet and hands is the macroscopic aspect of the fluorine workings. The constitution arising if the fingers and the legs become supple and skillful, is the working of fluorine. This is fluorine—not what the atomistic theorists imagine, but what is made manifest on the surface of the human organism, and is continued and extended inwards. This internal continuance of the process at the periphery is the essence of fluorine working. But if the external fluorine workings are disturbed, then the complexity of the human organism requires us to supplement education with therapeutics. For we not only perceive the result of defective or mistaken education in the condition of the teeth, but also in the child's being awkward and helpless. In such cases we must bring prophylactic influences upon the organism, and it is very interesting that a regulative action on the preservation of the teeth may be possible—of course if it has not been started too late—by means of an aqueous extract from the husks of horse chestnuts; that is to say Æsculin extract, in very high dilution and administered by the mouth.

This is again an interesting connection. The juice of the horse chestnut contains something of the same principle as that which builds up our teeth. There is always some substance out in the macrocosm with an internal organising effect. In Æsculin there is a force which ejects the “chemism” from the substance in which it is active. The chemism is so to speak rendered ineffective. If a beam of light is projected through a dilution of Æsculin, the chemical effect is obliterated. This obliteration is again perceptible if the aqueous dilution of Æsculin is taken internally; but note that it must be a very mild dilution and in a watery medium. Then it becomes evident that this overcoming of the chemism and trend towards pure mineralisation are essentially the same as the organic process which builds up the teeth. Only the obliteration in the external experiment is permeated still with the organising forces which are inherent in the human organism.

In a similar direction but by another method, we may use the common chlorophyll. The same force that is localised in the husk of the horse chestnut and some other plants, is also contained in chlorophyll, though in a somewhat different formation. But in order to use it we must try to extract as it were the chlorophyll in ether and use it not by internal dosage, but externally as a salve for the lower part of the body. If we rub the lower abdomen with etherised chlorophyll we shall produce the same effect on the preservation of the teeth, indirectly, through the whole organism, as is produced by the oral administration of Æsculin. These are things which need to be tested and which would certainly make a great impression on the general public if their statistical results could be made available. If the whole pulp of the tooth is “dead” an attempt should be made to adapt the whole organism to the absorption of fluorine. This is no longer a matter of mere dental treatment.

So you see how greatly dental treatment—in so far as dental treatment is still practicable—is related to all the growth-forces of the human organism. For what I have explained with reference to Æsculin and chlorophyll leads to the recognition of forces connected with very delicate processes of growth-processes tending towards mineralisation. The fact is that mankind has to pay for its higher evolution in the direction of the spirit, with a retrogressive development of the formative teeth process. And phylo-genetically the same is true; compared with the process of dental formation in the animals, our human process is one of retrogression. But it is not singular in that respect; this character of retrogression in the formation of the teeth is only one of many others in the organisation of the human head.

With this we have reached forms of thought which may be of great importance for our judgment of the whole process of dental formation. More insight will still be attained when we add some other facts which form a basis for it. I shall therefore include here a section which may not seem immediately to the point, for it will treat of questions of diet which are, however, closely related to our present theme.

Questions of diet are so important because they have social as well as medicinal implications. One may spend endless time in discussing whether the dietetic rules of Mazdaznan or other special schools and creeds, have any justification or significance. But in all the arguments pro and con, and the prescriptions which are given in these schools, we must admit that a person is treated as an unsocial being. But social problems combine with medical. The more we are compelled or advised to have some extra kind of food, something special to ourselves alone and not only in matters of food but in things from the external world—the more unsocial we become. The significance of the Last Supper lies in this: not that Christ gave something special to each of his disciples, but that He gave the same to all. The mere possibility of being together with others, as we eat or drink, has a great social value, and all that might tend to repress this healthy natural tendency, should—if I may say so—be treated with caution. If man be left alone in individual isolation, not only as regards conscious processes but also in all organic activities he develops all manner of appetites, and anti-appetites. Attention to these individual appetites and anti-appetites need not be given the importance usually bestowed. I am speaking now with reference to the whole constitution. If a man has become able to endure something naturally distasteful to him—that is to say, if an anti-appetite (in the wider sense, speaking of the whole organisation) has been conquered, then that person has gained more for the efficiency of his organisation than the constant avoidance of what is antipathetic. The conquest of something distasteful means the reconstruction of an organ which has been ruined or, in relation to the etheric, is a new organ; and this in no symbolic sense, but in fact. The organic formative force consists in nothing less than the conquest of antipathies. To gratify appetites beyond a certain limit, is not to serve and strengthen our organs, but to hypertrophise them and bring about their degeneration. To go too far in yielding to the antipathies of the organism, causes profound damage to the whole organisation. While on the other hand gradually to accustom a man to that which seems unsuitable to him always strengthens the constitution.

Almost everything we need to know in this division of our subject has been covered over by our modern natural science. For the external principle of the struggle for existence and natural selection is really purely external. Roux has even extended these concepts to the strife of the organs within man. But that too is really quite external. Such a principle can only become significant if what happens internally is actually observed and recorded. The strengthening, however, of a human organ, especially an organ in the phylogenetic line, always results from the overcoming of an antipathy. The formation, the actual organic structure, is due to the conquest of antipathies, whereas the continued growth of an organ already in being, is due to indulgence in sympathies.

But there is, of course, a definite limit. Sympathy and antipathy are not only on the tongue and in the eye; but the whole body liberates through and through with sympathies and antipathies; every organ has its special sympathies and antipathies. An organ can develop antipathy to the very forces that built and formed it at a certain stage. It owes its upbuilding to the very thing to which it becomes antipathetic, when it is completed. This leads us deeper into the phylogenetic realm; it leads us to take into world provokes all antipathetic reaction from inside; there is an internal resistance, a discharge so to speak of antipathy. But by this very reaction the progressive perfection of the organisation is brought about. In the realm of the organism he succeeds best in the struggle for existence who is best able to conquer inner antipathies and to replace them by organs. This conquest is part of the process of further development of the organs.

When we consider this aspect we are offered an important clue for the further estimate of actual dosage of remedies. You see in the process of organ formation itself a continuous oscillation between sympathy and antipathy. The genesis of the bodily constitution is dependent on the production of sympathy and antipathy, and their interplay. Moreover smaller dosages of substances used pharmaceutically have the same relation to highly potentised dosages, as sympathy has to antipathy, in the human organism. High potency has the opposite effect from low potency. That is bound up with the whole organising force. And in a certain sense it is also true that factors with a definite action on the organism in the early periods of life, turn their effect into the opposite in later periods; but that these effects in the organism can be shifted out of place. On this displacement is based on the one hand dementia precox as I have already stated, and, on the other, the formation of isolated “soul provinces” which at a later period of life wrongfully encroach on the organisation.

These matters will only be viewed aright if our science itself becomes somewhat spiritualised and we reach the stage of ceasing to try to cure so-called mental disorders by way of the spirit and the soul, but ask ourselves: where is the organic disorder or inadequacy, as this or that so-called mental or soul-sickness becomes apparent? And vice versa—however strange this may sound—in sickness of so-called physical kind there is even more need to examine the conditions of the soul, than in a case of sickness of the soul itself. In the latter class, the phenomena exhibited by the soul help little beyond the diagnosis. We must study these soul phenomena in order to guess where the organic defect can lie. The Ancients have provided for this in their terminology. It was not without purpose that these men of old time connected the picture of that mental disorder hypochondria with a name that sounds wholly materialistic: the bony or cartilaginous character of the abdomen. They would never have sought for the primary cause of the psychological unbalance—even when the hypochondria develops to actual insanity—anywhere except in some sickness of the lower bodily sphere. We must of course progress to the point of being able to regard all so-called material things as spiritual. We suffer severely today, simply because materialism is the continuation of medieval Catholic asceticism in the region of thought. This asceticism despised nature, and sought to attain to spiritual realms by an attitude of condemnation. Those who hold the modern world conception have extracted from the ascetic point of view just what they find convenient, and have no doubt that all the processes of the lower abdomen are crudely material and need not be seriously considered. But the truth is very different: the spirit works in all these things—and we need to know just how the spirit works there. If I bring the spirit which works within the organism together with the spirit acting in some external object or substance—the two spiritual forces collaborate. We must cease to despise nature, and learn again to regard to the whole external world as permeated with the spirit symptom and one of great value for the whole reform of medical thinking that just at the high tide of materialism there has arisen the custom of using hypnotic and other forms of suggestion in treating abnormal conditions in the individual? Things which seem at the opposite pole to materialism have come into favour in the materialistic age, when people had lost the possibility of learning the spiritual aspects of quicksilver, of antimony, of silver and of gold. That is the crux of the matter; the loss of the power to learn about the spirit of material things; and from this loss arises the attempt to treat spiritual ailments as spiritual only, just as in the psycho-analytic doctrines where it is attempted to direct the spirit as such. Sound views must again prevail on the subject of the spiritual attributes of matter.

It is one of the chief services of the nineteenth century to have held alive this acknowledgment of the spiritual permeation of external material things. One of the most important services; for external medicine of the allopathic school has unfortunately tended more and more to believe that one is only concerned with material, i.e., external-material effects and processes in the “extra-human” substances. Today on the one hand, in the diagnosis of so-called physical disorders, attention should be given to the state of the soul, and on the other, i.e., in abnormal soul states, the physical disturbances should be examined. Physical sicknesses should always prompt the inquiry: “what is the temperament of the person in whom they appear?” Suppose we find the sufferer is of hypochondriacal nature, that alone should be an indication for treatment of the lower organic sphere, with materially effective remedies, that is with low potencies. If we find that apart from the illness, the patient is of active mind or “sanguine,” it will be necessary to use high potencies from the outset of treatment. In short, the state of the soul is something that needs study and co-ordination when we consider bodily sickness. The total constitution of the soul is up to a certain point already obvious in the child; dementia præcox will not easily supervene if the child does not exhibit a phlegmatic disposition, that is to say the temperamental tendency appropriate to a much later stage in life, and then only to a limited degree. But still more important is it to recognise the disposition to inner activity or inner passivity. Only consider—if we work through so-called psychic treatment by means of suggestion we are placing the human being wholly in the sphere of influence of another. We repress his activity. But suppression of activity and of inner initiative gives rise to something even in outer life, which is important for the whole course of life. It appears externally in childhood and reacts on the whole dental condition, in later years as well. We shall deal further with this subject tomorrow.

Now I can come to the conclusion that for myself as an individual it is necessary to avoid certain foodstuffs, and to partake of others; I can choose a certain diet for myself—and it is important to bear this in mind, following what has already been said regarding the choice of food. And that diet can do me much good. But there is a very appreciable difference according to whether I adopt this diet as a result of individual experiment or simply accept what the doctor prescribes for me. Please do not take offense at this rather blunt statement. For the materialistic approach, it may well seem a matter of indifference, and equally beneficial, whether the diet that suits me has been instinctively chosen by myself, has been worked out experimentally by myself, perhaps at the physician's suggestion, but with individual initiative, or else has been prescribed for me by a physician. The ultimate result is seen in the fact that the diet prescribed by the physician will be of benefit in the beginning, but will have the disadvantage of leading in old age to mental degeneration more easily than would be the case with an active collaboration in questions of diet; this helps to keep the mind active and mobile into old age—of course, other factors play their part. The interplay of activity and passivity is much impaired in all “treatments by suggestion,” for such treatments imply not only giving up judgment, and doing what another prescribes, but also even the direction of the will itself. The guidances and impact on the will should only be employed in cases where we can assure ourselves that the impairment is not an injury to the person in question, because of other factors; and in fact that it is doing them a greater service to treat them for a while on “suggestive” lines. In general, however, spiritual science finds it necessary to emphasise the healing elements and effects in the material substances, in the atmospheric conditions, and in the movements and functions of the human organism itself; in short in all that cannot be termed spiritual influence proper, but must proceed actively from the consciousness or subconsciousness with the initiative of the patient himself. All these considerations are so crucial because they are the most of all sinned against in the age of materialism, and because the prevalent attitude has been so infectious as to have extended to pedagogy, where we may already experience the terrible abuse of all manner of hypnotic and suggestive tendencies. Their introduction into pedagogy is of appalling augury; and perhaps one will only be able to see clearly in this direction by answering the question: What is the effect of such exercises on the human organism as stimulate it to an awakening, instead of lulling into sleep? Just as when man falls asleep, movements are carried out in his imagination which are not followed by the will, just as the sleeper sinks into repose so far as the external world is concerned, while his consciousness is in motion, so the exact opposite occurs in the case of Eurhythmy. In Eurhythmy the reverse of the sleep condition is brought about; the consciousness awakens more vividly, as compared to its usual state. The hypertrophies of imagination typical of the dream, are dispersed and in their stead a sound and vigorous current of volition is sent through the limbs. The organised will is driven into the limbs. Study the different effects of Eurhythmic vowel forming on the lower and the upper human being respectively, and then again observe the effect of Eurhythmic formation of consonants on the upper and lower man, and you will realise that we may also seek a valuable therapeutic element in Eurhythmy itself.

Three years have passed to-day since we last gathered together on this hill, where a number of our friends met to lay the foundation-stone of this building, which is to stand as a promise that into the recent development of culture there shall break those spiritual impulses which have become for it an absolute necessity; they have become a necessity because only from those impulses can we hope for that insight into life which is necessary for the very existence of mankind, and because from these impulses alone can we hope for that loving human understanding which is necessary for human life. Three years ago we held this celebration, feeling that we were experiencing a critical moment in that spiritual development which, some of us for a long time already, and some for a shorter period, we have had at heart as the persuasive power of our lives. At that time there passed through our minds all that the human heart can feel as the progress of mankind. We did not think of what, although it was to be foreseen, still was not—by the mysterious power that is hidden in thoughts—destined to be kept in mind; we did not think then of that time of suffering and pain which has since descended upon human life in Europe. There still lay in the future, though the near future, the most tragic experience of suffering that has befallen people on this earth in our time. Whatever pain they have had to suffer formerly, the experience which has since passed over Europe is enough to make anyone despair, who lacks that power of inner recovery which springs from a profound consciousness of the life and activity of the spiritual world.

Now that we have worked three years at our building it seems indeed no time for joyful celebrations. We should be untrue, in a way, to our own hearts, were we to allow even a suggestion of the festive mood. We must leave this for another time, and we shall do better, to-day, to dwell—in a few thoughts re-echoing what we have already said on just this very spot—about the ideals which filled us, to some extent as an historical moment in our movement, when we set ourselves to realise this building.

This thought arose from the self-sacrificing spirit in which many souls, or at least a number of souls, spent year after year, while our movement gradually took shape within them. The longing of our movement to build its own sanctuary arose most vividly and forcefully in the soul of our unforgettable Fräulein Sophie Stinde at Munich—and coincided later with our need for a place in which to hold our Mystery Plays and the ceremonies connected with them. In this way the thought was first conceived of building a sanctuary for our movement and the spirit that pervades it. And from this arose the other thought, of realising our spiritual movement in the form of this building; that is, of so building this place, that in its form, in its very essence, it should be to the world a visible representation of our spiritual movement. But to achieve this, the building had to be placed like a living, creative thing, not merely on a foundation of modern spiritual life, but on all the essentials, and potential essentials, of modern spiritual life. No ordinary building was to be created for our souls, but it must realise for them a cultural thought. A deep question then arose: What building does modern culture itself demand as a thought expressing modern culture? The answer depended on the knowledge that all truly fruitful thoughts in building, like all fruitful artistic impulses, have been bound up with contemporary spiritual movements, and above all with new, advancing ones.

One cannot think of Greek architecture without feeling that its very forms express the Greek experience of culture: they are this culture crystallised, moulded, made to live in forms. Whoever studies deeply the Greek style of architecture will find that the achievement of this pure Greek architectural style corresponds to the emotional expression of the Greek outlook on life; it corresponds to the answer the Greek found to his tremendous question about humanity: What powers are those which are active from the moment of the earth's existence, and support the human being, so that he finds himself placed harmoniously on the earth? If, creating the Greek again in spirit, we see the ancient Greek moving through his Grecian land with his particular conception of the world, with his way of seeing the world in its substance, we feel how there lived in this Greek, more or less consciously, just that power,—sprung from the forces of gravity in the earth—which was to place this Greek upon the earth with just his Greek experience of life between birth and death. This Greek experience is reflected in the beautiful proportions, in the wonderful statics of Greek architecture; it lives in that inward compactness or completeness of Greek architecture, which gives its form the appearance of growing out of the mysterious forces of gravity and balance in the very body of the earth, out of the forces which, with inner, discreet harmony, suffuse and permeate the creations of the Greek tragic poets, of Homer, and Greek plastic art, even of Greek philosophy. A great tide in art can only come from a profound understanding of the world. The Greek wished to live in the Spirit of the Earth itself. Out of the Spirit of the Earth [Geist der Erde] he created his statics of architecture.

Surveying the centuries which follow, we find that again, although we must speak with the inaccuracy inevitable in such a cursory survey, there develop, under the influence of the Mystery of Golgotha and from the impulses which led a part of the human race to an understanding of this Mystery of Golgotha, new architectural forms. We see that man has discovered, in addition to his earlier experience, that he does not only stand rooted in an earth- spiritual existence that lasts from birth to death, but that the universal soul pervades and spiritualises, from above, all that man effects on earth. And as an external embodiment of this gift of the Spirit of Heaven to mediaeval mankind, as the Greek received his impulses from the Spirit of Earth, we see the rise of mediaeval architecture. Mediaeval architecture, again, is spiritualised, flooded, permeated by the forceful, powerful stream of the new conception of life which is passing through, and illuminating the world. I should have to go into great detail to show how the Christian spirit identified itself with art, to show how it found a home in Pre-Raphaelite, in Raphaelite art, in the art of Leonardo, of Michelangelo, in the Gothic architecture that aspires to heaven. I should have to enter into great detail were I to describe all the impulses which found such powerful utterance wherever it was sought to express, in form, the action and speech of the soul on the wings of the heavenly spirit; this expression found its consummation in Dürer and Holbein. For the soul that lives in Gothic architecture lives also in Dürer and Holbein.

With this hasty survey, certainly inexact, we come to modern times. And at this point the human spirit is, in a sense, brought to a standstill by the misery of the Thirty Years War which passed over Europe, particularly Central Europe, and had been preceded by a wonderful exaltation of all hearts to liberty, in such movements as that of Zwingli, Huss, and others like them. We see here, without yet being able to understand it completely, but so that it is clear, this whole misery of the Thirty Years War fanned and provoked by a spirit which already contained much of the later Jesuit spirit. And we see, under the influence of this impulse, ostensibly cultivating the spirit, just those forces grow up which have let loose materialism in Europe. We see that period approach, in which a philosophy of life, only directed, from the point of view of inner human perception, towards the material, cannot grasp the material, because it will not grasp the spirit in matter. We see a philosophy of life sweep Europe, denying freedom, because it desires to restrict everything that aspires to freedom within the limits of a rigid, blind obedience. We see the influx of a human perception—”all too human”—into the spirit that permeates history. And we see how there comes about, under this influence, the impossibility of realising the spiritual life directly in the forms of art.

Then there arose what one might call the ecclesiastic Baroque art, which is through and through a faithful expression of the new era, but in which human thoughts, human perceptions, are expressed in a subjectively arbitrary manner in artistic form and works of art. We no longer see the soul's urge to participate in the mysteries of earth-statics and earth-gravity, as it did when it built the Greek temple; we no longer see the soul directly expressing its experiences when it loses itself in heavenly heights, as it did when it created Gothic art, when Dürer adapted his profoundly expressive figures to the experiences which saturated his soul. We see rather the attempt everywhere to imbue potential architectural thoughts with human reason, with human, all too human, feelings. We see introduced into the pillars, into the element of support, all kinds of figures which have no architectural function, which originate in human design and are there only for decorative effect. There is no knowledge of the clear distinction between a plastic and picturesque thought and an architectural thought, and yet no power to combine—because of the inability to differentiate between—these different kinds of themes. We see that there is now employed a sham inwardness to support a conception of life no longer filled with its own true inwardness. We enter many a church building whose pillars we no longer understand because they have not been constructed from a study of the objective facts of the world, but betray the fact that people's conception of the cosmos itself in all its spontaneous elementary power has vanished. Here we go along colonnades where pillars have shapes which are not architectural, but picturesque; recesses are marked by pillars in picturesque manner. But the secret and mysterious should speak from such recesses. And the way such pillars have to support what they have to support should look as a secret. We see human saints introduced in the most impossible places, not springing from a spontaneous architectural necessity, by which plastic art and painting grow out of the architecture with inevitable right- ness. We see art expressing what has no direct connection with a vision of the world; we see the materialistic conception of the world develop, powerless, however, to create for itself a real, appropriate form of art.

It was not a long way from this to the path which led to the degeneracy of the Baroque style, that style which is so particularly interesting and significant because it shows how this later period desires to live itself out in its own unspiritual way—but how it is unable to find any sort of original artistic thought, but only the thought of the commonplace, with which people are filled and which they can express more or less inartistically. This is particularly clear when the Baroque style is, as it were, taken by force from the Jesuits by Louis XIV and translated into worldly terms. Certainly humanity was always aware that monumental art must be connected with the highest and best of which humanity is capable, when it sinks itself in the universe. But with the new human, all too human, perception, there was intermingled—in a somewhat frigid and academic form—a renewal of antique art, not more than a dash of it, with the Rococo, which we often see mixed grotesquely with the antique. Thus we see, precisely in the art connected with the name of Louis XIV, the apparent severely classical forms concealing all too human Rococo forms, where the human spirit is not seeking admittance to any universal mysteries, however close at hand, but is only desiring to perpetuate its whims and fancies, its everyday feelings and perceptions in the forms which appear around it on the walls.

Thus we see how edifices arose—for certain reasons I do not wish to mention individual buildings, because they are not properly judged by our times and my valuations therefore would not be understood—which, judged by the inner necessities of art, are simply human champagne-whims poured frothing into forms. We see the Rococo Voltairianism of thought reappearing in countless places in the Rococo treatment of artistic form. This, however, is not adapted, like Greek or Gothic forms, to the very essence of man's conception of the world, but is like an external copy of human inner experience.

Then we see, in surveying further the development of human art, that in the eighteenth century a human yearning turns to the past to revive the Greeks—Greek taste, Greek art. We see a spirit such as Winckelmann seeking a truly religious consecration in an understanding of the Greek spirit, of the Greek art-spirit. We see the nineteenth century, inspired by Winckelmann, aspiring to recreate those artistic forms. But the philosophy of materialism was never able to win the power, the inner power, by which what is thought, felt, inwardly experienced, is so deeply thought, felt, and experienced, that it overflows as though of itself into its own forms, as it did with the Greeks, as it did with Gothic art. Thus we see, in the nineteenth century, that wonderful, yet, after all, curiously superficial, aspiration of an Overbeck, of a Cornelius, to create forms, to create artistic figures, yet without that permeating impulse of a world-vision. Old motifs, old philosophies are hunted out; old ideas are to live again.

It was architecture that chiefly suffered under this powerlessness of modern materialistic thought. Beauty—beauty, in the grand style, was achieved by the architects of the nineteenth century in the revival of antiquity. But everything is prompted by the impulse just described. Study such a wonderful revival of the Renaissance as that brought about by Gottfried Semper—you can study it at the Polytechnic in Zurich—and you will see that it is impossible for the deliberate architectural thought to catch that spirit of which it should be an expression.

Thus we see the time approach, when architecture, with a certain greatness, because it has wonderfully studied old forms and can use them, reveals its impotence in the face of the higher impulses of human development. We see Greek forms, just like an outer husk, built round those great buildings which actually only shame what they do not understand, as many a modern architect has done, when he has evolved Greek forms like husks round modern Parliaments. Or we see architects, with a profound knowledge of Gothic art, yet far removed in heart and soul from Catholicism, build Gothic forms around what should be the essence of the Gothic building, but which is completely foreign to their feeling and perception. Thus we stand before these buildings with a finer sense of art if we can feel: these were built by people who are really far removed in their hearts and perceptions from the sacrifice of the mass and all that is celebrated here.

What a different experience is ours in the buildings raised by those who still had sympathy with the old Christian feelings, common in the times when the Host was elevated for Consecration with different emotions from those of a latter day; what a different experience, where mysticism was incarnate in the building, compared with the cold life of the present age expressed in the structure of the spiritual-social life of humanity; how different are the buildings where, in the fitting in of stone to stone, there is no flowing in of sacred action or of the tremor of emotion in the human soul. One often feels about art of this kind—if one really contemplates art with sympathy—that an atheist is painting a Madonna.

Only from this kind of discrimination could there proceed the impulse to the cultural thought necessary for our building. The old impulses can no longer be brought to that degree of vitality at which they can live themselves out in forms. Anything created in the old forms can only be antiquated. But we may well believe that our spiritual science has such an inner vitality as to be able to give birth to forms of its own; such forms, indeed, as we believe to have proceeded through an inner living process from our spiritual scientific conception of the cosmos, and as desire realisation in our building. These forms should manifest again that connection between art and the cosmic conception, which is inherent in the fact that only he can paint a Madonna who has an impulse in his soul towards the feelings for a Madonna. People to-day cannot feel this impulse in their soul to the extent that they can truthfully create artistic forms from it. If mankind does not wish to reduce itself ad absurdum new impulses must come through spiritual science into humanity. We must therefore make a start with new artistic forms which must be the natural fruit of a new world- outlook. Whoever wishes to understand rightly the meaning of the building whose foundation-stone we laid three years ago, must understand it by a living understanding of our spiritual scientific conception of the world, must understand how this, no more than a beginning, flows from a synthesis between a comprehension of heaven and earth, which we call the spiritual scientific conception of the world. This should arise just as Greek architecture sprang from the Greek conception of the earth, and as Gothic architecture grew from the conception of heaven held by mediaeval Christianity. We should be stupid indeed to imagine that anything considerable, in the highest sense, not to mention anything perfect, could be achieved at one stroke. We shall never be able to do otherwise than admit that what we have begun is very imperfect; a first tentative groping towards forms which must arise and yet in very many ways be completely different from those evolved by our building. But it is at least easy to see from our building that it is a trial of the spontaneous growth of artistic forms from the urge and the perception that pulsate through our vision of the world. It is because so much in it is new that those who will never tolerate anything new cannot understand—and naturally so—anything so different from what has hitherto been experienced in the former kind of plastic art and painting. Only if we humbly see imperfection, and an inadequate beginning in our building shall we develop the right feeling, with which the beginnings of any evolution should be regarded, when the imperfect beginning is nothing but a stimulus to so much that is still to be created.

We have now worked three years at the building, and those whose hearts are bound up with the ideal it expresses will now be filled with a warm sense of gratitude towards all those who have made their sacrifice to bring this about—a sacrifice in one form or another—and who have further expended their energy upon it—for a great deal of beautiful, splendid work has flowed into the building which we see before us on the Dornach hill. If these three years have also brought with them difficult food for thought and difficult experiences for our movement, we can still say: Whatever turn things may take, whatever may be in store for our movement in the lap of Karma—what we have been able to experience in connection with this achievement is precisely a profound experience flowing from the very essence of our movement and can be reckoned among the most beautiful fruits of modern experience. We have seen many a metamorphosis of this experience; we have seen, for instance, many people, like our unforgettable Fräulein Stinde, whose whole heart and whole soul were bent upon erecting this building in Munich, sacrifice their desires with deep devotion in order to participate in the transformation of their plans destined by Karma. Whether the resolutions formed at that time, to effect this transformation, were absolutely right, only the future can show, when the facts prove how far the culture of the present day is taking up the anthroposophical movement. Much of what could be expected is still unfulfilled, and it would sound like foolish boasting if I were to mention only some of the expectations which could rightly be described as disappointed.

The building was there. It revealed even in its outward forms the existence of a movement of some kind. Let anyone turn to the bibliography of our movement in many languages in the educated world to-day, and let him see from it how much opportunity there was of understanding our movement, how much opportunity was given of connecting the building on the Dornach hill with certain essentials in our cultural movement. It was all the more to be expected that, at the present time, which has imposed so severe an ordeal on mankind there should be heard, precisely in view of this difficult time of suffering, expressions of sympathy with the deeper cultural significance of this spiritual scientific trend. Of such voices we can say that not a single one was heard from outside, during the terrible time of suffering and war; only a few isolated voices were raised within the anthroposophical society itself, and, because the outside world showed so little understanding for the movement, these died perforce on the wind.

Thus, to-day, when we wished to look back to some extent on the impulses which inspired us three years ago, we can only pledge ourselves anew and with the greatest solemnity to remain true to that impulse, to win understanding for the contribution of this spiritual scientific conception of the world, and all that it involves, to the development of humanity.

From outside Europe, from distant Asia, opinions are being formed on the European situation which are in a way more illuminating than the war that is raging through Europe. But just these opinions show that the re-birth of Europe is only possible through the spiritual scientific conception of the world. May this eventually meet with understanding. We suffer from the Karma of thoughtlessness, that thoughtlessness which is at the same time I brutal, because it desires everywhere to crush underfoot any glimmering of the spiritual necessities underlying the development of our time. It is remarkable. The yearnings—as I have often said—are coming to the surface everywhere, yearnings which do not understand themselves because they do not know what they want, and because they cannot, in the brutality of the times, find the way to the vision of the world of which our building is a monument. Whoever contemplates this age at all finds many signs of the times; but they are all signs of longings.

We find, however, a queer fish of a fellow, a simple journeyman carpenter, who is a living refutation, through what he became, of the senseless idea of modern times that spiritual science is only for educated people and not for simple souls. This is a senseless idea; for just the simplest souls are aware of those longings which could actually be satisfied within them if they were not repressed by the so- called brutal culture of the times. What longings are voiced in words like these of a simple carpenter, who has read a few books and taken stock of the aims and possibilities of the present day, and who expresses himself in these lines:

In the sphere of dream and spirit
I am now, it seems, absorbèd,
And there whisper billows, orbèd
With their countless secrets strange.
And the sounds of life come welling
Out of Nature's inmost place,
Clouds of mist behold dispelling
From the infinite mystery's eternal trace.

Let us go out to meet the longings, and find the way to those whose hearts are full of yearning. We can look from this simple journeyman carpenter, a queer fellow, as I said, who tried to fight through from knowledge to contemplation—to the man whom I have mentioned before, Christian von Ehrenfels, who is Professor at the University of Prague, and who attempted in his Cosmogony to imagine a “Retrospective Vision,” in which we see longing, inclining towards the attainment and acquisition of what can only be attained and striven for precisely through spiritual immersion in a backward-looking vision. The thick night of modern so-called philosophy naturally allows such spirits only a limited vision, while permitting occasional glimmerings to shoot up within them; but the stultifying culture of the age restrains them from an understanding of spiritual science. Their longings get no farther. But these longings are sometimes quite curious. And this Cosmogony of Christian von Ehrenfels has a remarkable conclusion. This professor attempted, in his way, to contemplate the world and the course of the universe, he attempted to get a clear conception of the needs of the present day by studying the course of history; and what is his final word?—“In this sense, and from this point of view, I have sought to understand the history of mankind, and have come to the following conclusion—which, however, I am enabled to impart for the first time without the armour of scientific argument, and simply as the result of expectant awareness;

“In God, with the elevation of the human intellect (and probably with similar processes on other heavenly bodies) consciousness awoke and a deepening process began in His activity.

“In, and with man, God is seeking a guiding principle capable of directing this hitherto impulsive creation into paths of conscious design.

“This principle is not yet found.”

You must remember, such a man naturally calls the nearest spirit he senses his God, as does, for that matter, the whole present age. But he understands from history that he lives in a time when this spirit, near him, has some plan for mankind and stands at a critical turning point. So he says: “In God Himself a phase of deepening has dawned in His activity.” He feels so much. “In and with man” (he goes on) “God is seeking a guiding principle.” As a man he feels himself incapable of thinking out guiding principles, guiding purposes; but he senses a God who seeks guiding principles “capable of directing His hitherto impulsive creation (the Creation of God) into the paths of conscious design. This principle is not yet found.” This is how the book closes: may some God, hovering somewhere about, find a guiding principle somewhere in His impulsive will. This is how a philosophical book ends, and one that has been written in the immediate present.

Wherever we look—the two examples I have taken, that of a journeyman carpenter and that of a university professor, could be multiplied by hundreds and thousands—everywhere we should see that there are longings to be satisfied by the message of our building. When people understand how this building had to be kept free from all conventionality, and that thus only the spontaneous perception flowing from the spiritual scientific conception of the world can be embodied in it—when people understand how, on the other hand, we had to keep ourselves unsullied by that superficial symbolising practised everywhere by abortive, superficially occult societies and societies aspiring to occultism—when people understand, how, between the conventionality and the shallow symbolism of the present day, we had to seek truth in this architectural thought, people will at last discover in this memorial the fruitful seeds and productive impulses of spiritual science.

If, with all that the future may bring forth, we absorb this desire, this experience in our soul, the building will be for us, even in what it has been since it was built three years ago, the beginning that we felt it to be, when we laid the foundation-stone, at a time when we were filled with our spiritual scientific ideals. Let us feel this particularly in the midst of an age in which quite a different impulse is reducing itself ad absurdum: let us try to feel how one thing is connected with another: we shall see that we can feel this if we will. Much, indeed, has not yet been brought to pass through this experience. But in many of our souls an honest, genuine will is alive; and this honest, genuine will, if it is true to itself, will add understanding to its honesty of purpose, and then in all our souls there will be formed that other foundation-stone, which will bear into the world, spiritually and in abundant variety, the building that we strove to raise up for our ideal—over the physical foundation-stone which we entrusted reverently to the earth upon this hill three years ago.