The Rudolf Steiner Archive

Dr. Steiner: “Careful scrutiny of the lines along which we were moving showed me that it is necessary to contribute something to clarify the things that were suggested at the time. That is why I asked you to appear at this General Assembly. I would like to emphasize from the outset that it will not be a matter of somehow interpreting the steps that three members of the Executive Board felt compelled to take in such a way that they could be directed against anyone, even remotely. The aim is to clarify the situation by means of a full clarification that cannot be achieved in any other way. In order to make this completely clear, I must still refer to a few words on the essentials, to the history of the Theosophical movement since the founding of the German section, namely insofar as it concerns members of the board, who come into consideration above all.

When the German Section was to be founded, the leaders of the Theosophical movement, insofar as they belonged to the Adyar Society, were to be persuaded to hand over the leadership to others. The personalities involved in the continuation of the theosophical work were Fräulein von Sivers and I. I myself was not yet ready to join the Theosophical Society, even a few months before I was called upon to contribute not only to the Berlin group but also to the entire movement of the Theosophical Society in my capacity as General Secretary of the German Section. I had already given lectures for two winters, in the Berlin branch. Two courses that have been printed, so that I am connected with the Theosophical Society in Berlin in a certain respect, am connected only personally.

When Count and Countess von Brockdorff left Berlin, I had already been a member of the Theosophical Society for several months, and when other measures failed, I was designated as General Secretary. I did not oppose the request at the time. I had no merit in the Theosophical Society at the time.

Berlin was considered a kind of center in Germany. Berlin was to become a kind of parent company. The German Theosophical Society (DTG) was built on this. The aim was to run the society from Berlin. At that time, Count and Countess Brockdorff went to great lengths to recruit Fräulein von Sivers, who was in Bologna, for their Berlin lodge. Even after she had been asked, she was not at all inclined to accept. Only when the leaders of the Theosophical Society deemed it necessary did Miss von Sivers decide to go to Berlin and lead the Theosophical movement with me under the conditions that were possible at the time.

We adapted ourselves to the circumstances in an absolutely conservative way. The circumstances naturally required that we take the initiative of the German movement into our own hands and try to bring the intentions to fruition in the right way. The situation in Germany was such that it would not have been possible at that time without initiative in a material sense. In addition to this material theosophical work, there were many other things, such as, for example, the management of the library, which was in a loose connection with the German Theosophical Society, the later Berlin branch of the Theosophical Society. This management of the library naturally required a certain amount of work, which had to be done between classes. The actual Theosophical work could only be done in the free breaks. I myself could devote myself to these library matters only in an advisory capacity. I had more important things to do. Besides, for two years I had been able to study the way the branch had been run, and I had no intention of making any kind of change in the external administration. What was factually given should be preserved.

It was our endeavor to operate within the framework and to throw what we had to give into the framework of the Theosophical movement. That was our endeavor. The basic prerequisite for Fräulein von Sivers to take over the management of the various agencies of the Theosophical Society in Berlin was that complete trust prevailed. Without this trust, nothing can be done in the practical part of the Theosophical movement. Trust in the practical part of the movement itself is necessary. The administration is a kind of appendage. Since we could not engage in any particular pedantry, it was natural that we expected complete trust in what is the basic requirement for working together in the theosophical field. This trust does not appear to have been given to the extent that we would need it to conduct the business calmly and objectively. We will only make the final point by linking it to the meeting two weeks ago and contrasting it with it. This meeting was based on things that were even referred to as gossip; they were based on public appearances. Everything is to be discussed in public. The fact that there is dissatisfaction was admitted in the meeting, and the expression of a mood of discontent is in itself enough to bring about such a step as is to be taken today. I am - let this be accepted as an absolutely true interpretation - I am, not only because every occultist is, but on much more esoteric principles, opposed to all aggression. Every act of aggression hinders the activity that I would be able to unfold. Please regard this step as something that merely follows from the principle of not acting aggressively. Everyone must behave in such a way that the wishes of all can be fully expressed. Everyone must suppress their personal desires so that our work can be done. Otherwise, the Berlin branch cannot be managed as desired. That is what I would like to achieve. When opposing views are expressed, it is impossible to work together.

If we work in such a way, as desired from various sides, then in my opinion we would flatten the Theosophical movement, we would reduce it to the level of a club.

The words that were spoken at the last meeting must be heard, the words: that I am in diametrical opposition to those who want a club-like community. I do not intend to attack anyone. I just cannot be there. Anyone who considers this properly will have to say that this is the absence of any aggressiveness. I would like to set the tone for this matter. This is what I emphasized at the general assembly in October, where I emphasized that I do not conform to such a form, that I cannot conform to a club-like society. Those who wish that the Berlin branch be administered differently, that the members interact with each other in a different way, must act accordingly. It is necessary for them to take matters into their own hands and carry them out for themselves, so that it seems self-evident that no one can object if their wishes are fulfilled in the manner mentioned. I could not fulfill these wishes. I have always tried to satisfy wishes as best I could. In order for the Theosophical Society to continue to develop peacefully, I have to take this step. I have the task of maintaining the continuity of the movement in Germany. It is clear to me that only on an occult basis – given our confused circumstances in the world – can this movement be taken forward. A movement on a social basis does not need to be Theosophical; its people may already have ideal aspirations and become dear to one another, and that does not need to be Theosophical. But we need a theosophical movement, and that is why I cannot be a leader in a club-like organization. Please understand that I am obliged to bring the full depth of the theosophical movement, which is based on occultism, to it. Today, only those who live by the Aristotelian principle are truly called to actively participate within the Theosophical Society: Those who seek truth must respect no opinion.

Perhaps I would also like to work in a different way. But here it is a matter of duty, and therefore I will take this step because I have this obligation to build the Theosophical movement on a truly deeper foundation, and in the process of building, any attempt to run the society in a club-like manner will lead to a flattening out. No one can better understand that such things are necessary for some, and no one's relationship with me should change. Everyone will always be welcome with me. I will continue to conduct the business that relates to the material aspects of Theosophy in the same way, so that in the future everything can be found as it has been found. But precisely for this reason I must withdraw.

The consistency is, of course, in the lines that I have executed. I cannot and must not lose sight of the theosophical movement at any point. That is why I have asked those members of our Theosophical Society – all the other organizations are of a secondary nature – individual members of the Theosophical Society, to hold a meeting with me and asked them whether they would be willing to continue the Theosophical movement with me in the way I have led it, against which a discord has arisen and dissatisfaction has been expressed. This had to be so, because I must maintain continuity. I will only mention the case I have in Munich. There is a strictly closed lodge there that only accepts those who meet the requirements of the whole. But now we will have a second lodge in which all others can be admitted. I have endeavored to draw attention to the conditions of the work of the lodges, which is the daily bread of a lodge. I also want to found a Besant Lodge soon, for whose name I will ask Annie Besant for permission soon. In addition, there will be completely free activity from which no one can be excluded. That is the reason for my resignation.

(The names of a number of members are then listed.)

Krojanker: “After these explanations from Dr. Steiner, those who were unable to attend the last meeting will have gained an insight into the cause of the discord and also the background to the matter, which led three members of the board to take the above-mentioned step. There must have been trouble brewing long before those involved knew anything about it. Since I have known about these things, it has been impossible for me to get over them. At first it was impossible for me to realize that these things could drive the gentlemen to this conclusion. What was it actually? The starting point for me was simply the decision of City Councillor Eberty and Miss Schwiebs, who had set out to see the members in their home for free, informal discussions. It was not foreseeable that such conclusions could be drawn from this. The suggestion came from Miss von Sivers; members should be encouraged to approach each other, and the feeling should not arise that one does not quite feel at home, so that everything rushes home immediately after the lecture. But even with Miss von Sivers, this was noticeable to a certain extent. As long as we had no headquarters, she had to help herself in a different way, visiting friends and talking to them. These are things that were purely personal and private in nature, and in the previous session I had hoped that they would not affect us. I still have the same opinion of these things today, the opinion that they must not be touched. The polite couple who had invited us were not yet part of the branch. A distinction must be made between association work, associationism and theosophical work. But committees are not formed and elected, and members of the board are not elected, for nothing, so that they do not have to worry about running the association. They are elected and will then also have the authority to speak about business matters and to allow themselves to make judgments from time to time. If autocratic management [...] is desired, then statutes and so on would not be necessary either. If Dr. Steiner had said at the time: We must renounce such a form, had he shown or said, only under such and such conditions is it possible for me to work and participate, then things would have happened immediately and quite naturally. Those who would have liked it would have gone along with it, and the rest would have stayed out. I don't understand why a whole business apparatus has been set up and why it is resented if, as a member of one of its branches, I take an interest in it. I think it cannot be considered a crime to inquire about these things. I would recommend the introduction of wish lists. I must protest against the accusation that we are aggressive. We have heard Dr. Steiner speak for two years about what Theosophy is and what Theosophical life entails. Surely other ways could have been found to steer the discussions in a different direction. But now that it has come to this, the consequences must be drawn under all circumstances. I imagine them to be – I don't know if I have understood correctly – that this Berlin branch continues to exist as a continuation of the Berlin branch of the German Theosophical Society, and that the three board members and the other gentlemen whom Dr. Steiner has read out are now founding a new lodge.

Further negotiations and consultations will be needed before this step can be taken. The first task will be to elect a committee, because the Berlin branch currently has neither a committee nor a leadership. We will therefore have to form a provisional committee to discuss how this is to be done. I would like to leave it up to you to make proposals in this regard. In any case, we deeply regret the way in which the matter has been handled so far. When Dr. Steiner speaks of discord and soul currents, there is in fact nothing that I know and perhaps some personal matters that must never be made the business of the Berlin branch."

Dr. Steiner: “I myself had good reason to take the personal into account. At the general assembly, 300 marks were approved for my work last year. I had already raised concerns at the time, but soon after that I felt compelled to put these 300 marks back into the treasury because of the prevailing mood, because I did not want to work on the basis of ill will. You see that I have kept quiet for long enough. 'I also wanted to let this matter pass quietly, to bridge the gap with positive work. In the long run, this was not possible for good reason. Of course, we are not discussing private matters here, nor is a conversation about professional life appropriate. I have said that, as far as I am concerned, what was requested has been largely satisfied. The wish had arisen that we should have lectures elsewhere than here or in the architects' house, and I agreed to give lectures at Wilhelmstraße 118 as well. But now we have to make a few comments about such a matter. The things are not as crude as they might initially appear, but are more subtly connected. At the time, I readily agreed to fulfill this wish, and in the pursuit of this matter, I asked to form an executive committee. I did not dream what came of it. We still have no branch in the north, south, or east. It was my intention to work not only in the west, but in all parts of the city. When an executive committee was formed in the Berlin branch, it was intended that this committee should take charge of the actual agitation. No one here has ever been prevented from taking care of business matters, but the view is that anyone who wants to do something has to create the space for themselves. No one could demand anything from us. If someone had come to us with positive suggestions, we would have taken them up. But when it is said that our activities have not been attacked, I say that only this week I received a written accusation that we are managing the library in such a way that one can threaten to go to court about it. We cannot accept hidden accusations. We will also hand over the library. When I have presented these things, you can assume that they are based on the firmest possible foundation. The statutes and so on could have been adhered to if there had been goodwill. When one talks about business, it must be practical. What was done at the time was impractical. I spoke three times in relatively beautiful rooms, but then in a room that was referred to as a stable, and finally in a room where speaking was almost impossible. I had to speak with glasses knocking behind me and so on. That was no atmosphere for Theosophy. I had to think of doing things in a practical way. This was the reason for my decision to hold the lectures in the architect's house. Such measures were in favor of the Berlin branch. Nevertheless, I was told: These lectures are ones that we can attend or not attend. - So you see that this is a silent discourtesy. Nothing has been done precisely because the other view of business matters, of statutes and committees, gave the opportunity to try out how it works. A letter from a theosophist reads: “I would like to see the Berlin branch work well for once. Most of all, I would be pleased if it could work in a favorable way.“ But then a wish list has also been worked out, you think - on the wish list it said: ‘The chairman has to be there half an hour before the start’ - that's what made the step so special.” Ms. Eberty: “Don't you think this fragmentation is very sad?”

Dr. Steiner: “I have worked against these things. Whether a fragmentation will result from it remains to be seen. If the members of the Berlin branch will understand how to act in a theosophical way, there will be no need for fragmentation at all. There is no need to speak of fragmentation, I will do nothing to promote it.”

Mrs. Eberty: “If you had had something against the meetings, it would have been enough to say: There are reasons why the meetings cannot take place. We had the best intentions for this. We only did it to serve the cause of Theosophy. It did not even remotely occur to us that this was against your intentions, not even when it was on the agenda eight days ago, when there were indications that our afternoon could be meant by it."

Dr. Steiner: “If the form is dropped, there is no objection to the private meetings. What has happened at my request? That the teas at Fräulein von Sivers's have been abolished because I have not seen any benefit for Theosophy in such tea meetings. It was difficult for me that Countess Brockdorff took it badly. But nevertheless, I just said it. We ourselves would not be able to manage things differently.

Krojanker: “It seems that the Executive Committee is being made the scapegoat. If you are on the Executive Committee, useful work is only possible if you are informed about the entire business situation. If you don't have insight and don't find opportunities to gain insight, what do you want to make suggestions for? The Executive Committee needs this knowledge because it has to report to the Board. I am increasingly lacking tangible documents that have given rise to these matters.

Now comes the library question. A library commission has been set up. It is not really understandable why the members of the branch should be held responsible for this.

Mr. Werner: “Dr. Steiner is a man called from a higher place. Now it is difficult to get what is needed to perfect us. If you approach him now with demands and questions, such as, ”Where did you leave the money you raised with your lectures? Give us information about what you got out of these lectures! Give us information about where the money has gone. If you say, 'We decide here, because we have a completely free hand to say what you have to do', then that is not the way to harmonious cooperation. I think that when you first accept teachings and instructions from someone, the demands and questions should not go so far that they are unbearable in detail. These would be thoughts that shun the light and lead to disharmony. But we can prevent disharmony if we want to. If that is not the case, then we have no right to come here and quibble about what has happened.

Krojanker: “A distinction must be made between the theosophical teaching and the leadership of the Berlin branch. This will make it possible to avoid any mistrust.”

Dr. Steiner: “The harmony may have to be bought at the expense of excluding some members. The arranged lectures were intended for the Berlin branch. It is true that we could not have done the work better. I am of the opinion that for the time being we have done the work as well as we could, since nothing better has been offered to us from the other side. At the moment something better would have been offered to us from the other side, we would not have ignored it. But what we have done, I consider to be the best so far.

Fränkel: “Two meetings have been convened that have caused the discord. On both occasions, accusations have been made, followed by disharmony, so that a club has been formed, as it were, and we consist of two classes of members, so to speak. There are two ways of proceeding. There is a civil case and a criminal case. This is a public matter, not a private one. The complaint should therefore be made. However, it is not clear what is actually at issue. The first point is the tea with the ladies, the second point is that only the business committee has taken the wrong measures. The error seems to lie in the fact that at the founding, there was no discussion about how the business of the committee should be handled. There is no real discord yet, only the complaint of a few gentlemen based on factual reasons.

Dr. Steiner: “If we had come to accuse anyone, then you could blame us for something. We are returning the management to those who have a wish list. The way of thinking expressed in the wish list is such that it cannot lead to anything in the Theosophical Society.”

Krojanker: “A desire for power emerges from those who perhaps believe they are superior. But I have heard from Dr. Steiner that Theosophy does not submit to any authority.”

Tessmar: “It is all much too materialistic. We are members of the Theosophical Society, but the whole Berlin branch can go home if Dr. Steiner says, ‘I will no longer give lectures here.’ Dr. Steiner gives Theosophical lectures, not lectures about speakers. I myself do not want to be held accountable; I want to hear Theosophical lectures in order to progress. And now the complaint about authority comes up. The theosophical lectures are authority for me. I show trust by not asking: What does the library do, what do the six Dreier do, who come in?"

Krojanker: “I now see where the debate is leading us today. We have to come to terms with the facts. From Dr. Steiner's reply, I see that he is not to be convinced in any way, and that perhaps only time can bring understanding of the individual things. We are faced with the fact that this separation is taking place. What must happen now? Perhaps we should devote another hour to this question.”

(A motion is made to end the debate, which is carried.)

(Dr. Steiner, Fräulein von Sivers and Mr. Kiem resign.)

Dr. Steiner: “My only remaining duty is to recommend that a managing director be elected for the time being. The process will be as follows: The managing director will have the task of informing the other members of the resignation. I myself will also inform the external members that I have resigned on my part.” Krojanker: ‘Can't a general statement be communicated to the members from both sides about what has happened here?’

(A number of members declare their resignation from the Berlin branch.

Krojanker: Asks what he has done wrong and is told that he disagrees with the management.

Dr. Steiner: “Why did I do it in general? It is done this way because it could not be done any other way. The Berlin branch can now experiment and so on, and do its own things.

Mrs. Eberty: “We all received invitations.”

Dr. Steiner: “I invited some with my name and with a personal greeting. But the list is not complete.”

Mrs. [Johannesson]: “We felt separated by the tone of your address. We felt as if you had carried out a separation.”

Ms. [Voigt]: “Could the ladies be asked which topic was discussed? And also about the question from which Mr. Fränkel started. It is perhaps of interest.”

Tessmar: “I belong to Dr. Steiner. I will not be influenced. Please make a note of that if necessary. I really feel offended. As a seasoned seaman, I would choose different words. I forbid personal tapping.”

Dr. Steiner: “It has therefore been decided that a manager must be appointed for the German Theosophical Society. It would have been impossible for me to continue my work without taking this step. I cannot give intimate lectures in this mood. I only had the choice of either leaving Berlin or taking this step. Maintaining continuity was the reason for this. Mrs. Annie Besant said, when she saw the current here, that I should go to Munich, where the work that Miss von Sivers has done can be continued. But I will not change my whole relationship into a mere point. It is precisely the outward appearance that is at issue here, not the inwardness.

Present were: about 30 members. The meeting ended at eight o'clock [in the evening].

Dear friends,

If we are going to consider the mutual concerns of priest and physician, we should look first at certain phenomena in human life that easily slide over into the pathological field. These phenomena require a physician's understanding, since they reach into profound depths, even into the esoteric realm of religious life. We have to realize that all branches of human knowledge must be liberated from a certain coarse attitude that has come into them in this materialistic epoch. We need only recall how certain phenomena that had been grouped together for some time under the heading “genius and insanity” have recently been given a crass interpretation by Lombroso¹ and his school and also by others. I am not pointing to the research itself—that has its uses—but rather to their way of looking at things, to what they brought out as “criminal anthropology,” from studying the skulls of criminals. The opinions they voiced were not only coarse but extraordinarily commonplace. Obviously the philistines all got together and decided what the normal type of human being is. And it was as near as could possibly be to a philistine! And whatever deviated from this type was pathological, genius on one side, insanity on the other; each in its own way was pathological. Since it is quite obvious to anyone with insight that every pathological characteristic also expresses itself bodily, it is also obvious that symptoms can be found in bodily characteristics pointing in one or the other direction. It is a matter of regarding the symptoms in the proper way. Even an earlobe can under certain conditions clearly reveal some psychological peculiarity, because such psychological peculiarities are connected with the karma that works over from earlier incarnations.

The forces that build the physical organism in the first seven years of human life are the same forces by which we think later. So it is important to consider certain phenomena, not in the customary manner but in a really appropriate way. We will not be regarding them as pathological (although they will lead us into aspects of pathology) but rather will be using them to obtain a view of human life itself.

Let us for a moment review the picture of a human being that Anthroposophy gives us. The human being stands before us in a physical body, which has a long evolution behind it, three preparatory stages before it became an earthly body—as is described in my book An Outline of Esoteric Science.² This earthly body needs to be understood much more than it is by today's anatomy and physiology. For the human physical body as it is today is a true image of the etheric body, which is in its third stage of development, and of the astral body, which is in its second stage, and even to a certain degree of the ego organization that humans first received on earth, which therefore is in its first stage of development. All of this is stamped like the stamp of a seal upon the physical body—which makes the physical body extraordinarily complicated. Only its purely mineral and physical nature can be understood with the methods of knowledge that are brought to it today. What the etheric body impresses upon it is not to be reached at all by those methods. It has to be observed with the eye of a sculptor so that one obtains pictorial images of cosmic forces, images that can then be recognized again in the form of the entire human being and in the forms of the single organs.

The physical human being is also an image of the breathing and blood circulation. But the entire dynamic activity that works and weaves through the blood circulation and breathing system can only be understood if one thinks of it in musical forms. For instance, there is a musical character to the formative forces that were poured into the skeletal system and then became active in a finer capacity in the breathing and circulation. We can perceive in eurythmy how the octave goes out from the shoulder blade and proceeds along the bones of the arm. This bone formation of the arm cannot be understood from a mechanical view of dynamics, but only from musical insight. We find the interval of the prime extending from the shoulder blade to the bone of the upper arm, the humerus, the interval of the second in the humerus, the third from the elbow to the wrist. We find two bones there because there are two thirds in music, a larger and a smaller. And so on. In short, if we want to find the impression of the astral body upon the physical body, upon the breathing and blood circulation, we are obliged to bring a musical understanding to it.

Still more difficult to understand is the ego organization. For this one needs to grasp the meaning of the first verse of the Gospel of St. John: “In the beginning was the Word.” “The Word” is meant there to be understood in a concrete sense, not abstractly, as commentators of the Gospels usually present it. If this is applied concretely to the real human being, it provides an explanation of how the ego organization penetrates the human physical body. You can see that we ought to add much more to our studies if they are to lead to a true understanding of the human being. However, I am convinced that a tremendous amount of material could be eliminated not only from medical courses but from theological courses too. If one would only assemble the really essential material, the number of years medical students, for instance, must spend in their course would not be lengthened but shortened. Naturally it is thought in materialistic fashion today that if there's something new to be included, you must tack another half-year onto the course!

Out of the knowledge that Anthroposophy gives us, we can say that the human being stands before us in physical, etheric and astral bodies, and an ego organization. In waking life these four members of the human organization are in close connection. In sleep the physical body and etheric body are together on one side, and the ego organization and astral body on the other side. With knowledge of this fact we are then able to say that the greatest variety of irregularities can appear in the connection of ego organization and astral body with etheric body and physical body. For instance, we can have: physical body, etheric body, astral body, ego organization. (Plate I, 1) Then, in the waking state, the so-called normal relation prevails among these four members of the human organization.

But it can also happen that the physical body and etheric body are in some kind of normal connection and that the astral body sits within them comparatively normally, but that the ego organization is somehow not properly sitting within the astral body. (Plate I, 2) Then we have an irregularity that in the first place confronts us in the waking condition. Such people are unable to come with their ego organization properly into their astral body; therefore their feeling life is very much disturbed. They can even form quite lively thoughts. For thoughts depend, in the main, upon a normal connection of the astral body with the other bodies. But whether the sense impressions will be grasped appropriately by the thoughts depends upon whether the ego organization is united with the other parts in a normal fashion. If not, the sense impressions become dim. And in the same measure that the sense impressions fade, the thoughts become livelier. Sense impressions can appear almost ghostly, not clear as we normally have them. The soul-life of such people is flowing away; their sense impressions have something misty about them, they seem to be continually vanishing. At the same time their thoughts have a lively quality and tend to become more intense, more colored, almost as if they were sense impressions themselves.

When such people sleep, their ego organization is not properly within the astral body, so that now they have extraordinarily strong experiences, in fine detail, of the external world around them. They have experiences, with their ego and astral body both outside their physical and etheric bodies, of that part of the world in which they live—for instance, the finer details of the plants or an orchard around their house. Not what they see during the day, but the delicate flavor of the apples, and so forth. That is really what they experience. And in addition, pale thoughts that are after-effects in the astral body from their waking life.

You see, it is difficult if you have such a person before you. And you may encounter such people in all variations in the most manifold circumstances of life. You may meet them in your vocation as physician or as priest—or the whole congregation may encounter them. You can find them in endless variety, for instance, in a town. Today the physician who finds such a person in an early stage of life makes the diagnosis: psychopathological impairment. To modern physicians that person is a psychopathological impairment case who is at the borderline between health and illness; whose nervous system, for instance, can be considered to be on a pathological level. Priests, if they are well-schooled (let us say a Benedictine or Jesuit or Barnabite or the like; ordinary parish priests are sometimes not so well-schooled), will know from their esoteric background that the things such a person tells them can, if properly interpreted, give genuine revelations from the spiritual world, just as one can have from a really insane person. But the insane person is not able to interpret them; only someone who comprehends the whole situation can do so. Thus you can encounter such a person if you are a physician, and we will see how to regard this person medically from an anthroposophical point of view. Thus you can also encounter such a person if you are a priest—and even the entire congregation can have such an encounter.

But now perhaps the person develops further; then something quite special appears. The physical and etheric bodies still have their normal connection. But now there begins to be a stronger pull of the ego organization, drawing the astral body to itself, so that the ego organization and astral body are now more closely bound together. And neither of them enters properly into the physical and etheric bodies. (Plate I, 3) Then the following can take place: the person becomes unable to control the physical and etheric bodies properly from the astral body and ego. The person is unable to push the astral body and ego organization properly into the external senses, and therefore, every now and then, becomes “senseless.” Sense impressions in general fade away and the person falls into a kind of dizzy dream state. But then in the most varied way moral impulses can appear with special strength. The person can be confused and also extremely argumentative if the rest of the organism is as just described.

Now physicians find in such a case that physical and biochemical changes have taken place in the sense organs and the nerve substance. They will find, although they may take slight notice of them, great abnormalities in the ductless glands and their hormone secretion, in the adrenal glands, and the glands that are hidden in the neck as small glands within the thyroid gland. In such a case there are changes particularly in the pituitary gland and the pineal gland. These are more generally recognized than are the changes in the nervous system and in the general area of the senses.

And now the priest comes in contact with such a person. The person confesses to experiencing an especially strong feeling of sin, stronger than people normally have. The priest can learn very much from such individuals, and Catholic priests do. They learn what an extreme consciousness of sin can be like, something that is so weakly developed in most human beings. Also in such a person the love of one's neighbor can become tremendously intense, so much so that the person can get into great trouble because of it, which will then be confessed to the priest.

The situation can develop still further. The physical body can remain comparatively isolated because the etheric body—from time to time or even permanently—does not entirely penetrate it, so that now the astral and etheric bodies and the ego organization are closely united with one another and the physical organism is separate from them. (Plate II) To use the current materialistic terms (which we are going to outgrow as the present course of study progresses), such people are in most cases said to be severely mentally retarded individuals. They are unable from their soul-spiritual individuality to control their physical limbs in any direction, not even in the direction of their own will. Such people pull their physical organism along, as it were, after themselves. A person who is in this condition in early childhood, from birth, is also diagnosed as mentally retarded. In the present stage of earth evolution, when all three members—ego organization, astral organization, and etheric body—are separated from the physical, and the lone physical body is dragged along after them, the person cannot perceive, cannot be active, cannot be illumined by the ego organization, astral body, and etheric body. So experiences are dim and the person goes about in a physical body as if it were anesthetized. This is extreme mental retardation, and one has to think how at this stage one can bring the other bodies down into the physical organism. Here it can be a matter of educational measures, but also to a great extent of external therapeutic measures.

But now the priest can be quite amazed at what such a person will confess. Priests may consider themselves very clever, but even thoroughly educated priests—there really are such men in Catholicism; one must not underestimate it—they pay attention if a so-called sick person comes to them and says, “The things you pronounce from the pulpit aren't worth much. They don't add up to anything, they don't reach up to the dwelling place of God, they don't have any worth except external worth. One must really rest in God with one's whole being.” That's the kind of thing such people say. In every other area of their life they behave in such a way that one must consider them to be extremely retarded, but in conversation with their priest they come out with such speeches. They claim to know inner religious life more intimately than someone who speaks of it professionally; they feel contempt for the professional. They call their experience “rest in God.” And you can see that the priest must find ways and means to relate to what such a person—one can say patient, or one can use other terms—to what such a human being is experiencing within.

One has to have a sensitive understanding for the fact that pathological conditions can be found in all spheres of life, for the fact that some people may be quite unable at the present time to find their way in the physical-sense world, quite unable to be the sort of human being that external life now requires all of us to be. We are all necessarily to a certain degree philistines as regards external life. But such people as I am describing are not in condition to travel along our philistine paths; they have to travel other ways. Priests must be able to feel what they can give such a person, how to connect what they can give out of themselves with what that other human being is experiencing. Very often such a person is simply called “one of the queer ones.” This demands an understanding of the subtle transition from illness to spirituality.

Our study can go further. Think what happens when a person goes through this entire sequence in the course of life. At some period the person is in a condition (Plate I, 2) where only the ego organization has loosened itself from the other members of the organism. In a later period the person advances to a condition where neither ego nor astral enter the physical or etheric bodies. Still later, (Plate I, 3) the person enters a condition where the physical body separates from the other bodies. (Plate II) The person only goes through this sequence if the first condition, perhaps in childhood, which is still normal, already shows a tendency to lose the balance of the four members of the organism. If the physician comes upon such a person destined to go through all these four stages—the first very slightly abnormal, the others as I have pictured them—the physician will find there is tremendous instability and something must be done about it. Usually nothing can be done. Sometimes the physician prescribes intensive treatment; it accomplishes nothing. Perhaps later the physician is again in contact with this person and finds that the first unstable condition has advanced to the next, as I described it with the sense impressions becoming vague and the thoughts highly colored. Eventually the physician finds the excessively strong consciousness of sin; naturally a physician does not want to take any notice of that, for now the symptoms are beginning to play over into the soul realm. Usually it is at this time that the person finally gets in touch with a priest, particularly when the fourth stage becomes apparent.

Individuals who go through these stages—it is connected with their karma, their repeated earth lives—have purely out of their deep intuition developed a wonderful terminology for all this. Especially if they have gone through the stages in sequence, with the first stage almost normal, they are able to speak in a wonderful way about what they experience. They say, for instance, when they are still quite young, if the labile condition starts between seventeen and nineteen years: human beings must know themselves. And they demand complete knowledge of themselves. Now with their ego organization separated, they come of their own initiative to an active meditative life. Very often they call this “active prayer,” “active meditation,” and they are grateful when some well-schooled priest gives them instruction about prayer. Then they are entirely absorbed in prayer, and they are experiencing in it what they now begin to describe by a wonderful terminology. They look back at their first stage and call what they perceive “the first dwelling place of God,” because their ego has not entirely penetrated the other members of their organism, so to a certain extent they are seeing themselves from within, not merely from without. This perception from within increases; it becomes, as it were, a larger space: “the first dwelling place of God.”

What next appears, what I have described from another point of view, is richer; it is more inwardly detailed. They see much more from within: “the second dwelling place of God.” When the third stage is reached, the inner vision is extraordinarily beautiful, and such a person says, “I see the third dwelling place of God; it is tremendously magnificent, with spiritual beings moving within it.” This is inner vision, a powerful, glorious vision of a world woven by spirit: “the third dwelling place of God,” or “the House of God.” There are variations in the words used. When they reach the fourth stage, they no longer want advice about active meditation, for usually they have reached the view that everything will be given them through grace and they must wait. They talk about passive prayer, passive meditation, that they must not pray out of their own initiative, for it will come to them if God wants to give it to them. Here the priest must have a fine instinct for recognizing when this stage passes over into the next. For now these people speak of “rest-prayer,” during which they do nothing at all; they let God hold sway in them. That is how they experience “the fourth dwelling place of God.”

Sometimes from the descriptions they give at this stage, from what—if we speak medically—such “patients” say, priests can really learn a tremendous amount of esoteric theology. If they are good interpreters, the theological detail becomes clear to them—if they listen very carefully to what such “patients” tell them, to what they know. Much of what is taught in theology, particularly Catholic pastoral theology, is founded on what various enlightened, trained confessors have heard from certain penitents who have undergone this sequence of development.

At this point ordinary conceptions of health and illness cease to have any meaning. If such a man is hidden away in an office, or if such a woman becomes an housewife who must spend her days in the kitchen or something similar in bourgeois everyday life, these people become really insane, and behave outwardly in such a way that they can only be regarded as insane. If a priest notices at the right moment how things are developing and arranges for them to live in appropriate surroundings, they can develop the four stages in proper order. Through such patients, the enlightened confessor is able to look into the spiritual world in a modern way but similarly to the Greek priests, who learned about the spiritual world from the Pythians, who imparted all kinds of revelations concerning the spiritual world through earthly smoke and vapor.³ What sense would there be today in writing a thesis on the pathological aspect of the Greek Pythians? It could certainly be done and it would even be correct, but it would have no meaning in a higher sense. For as a matter of fact, very much of what flowed in a magnificent way from Greek theology into the entire cultural life of Greece originated in the revelations of the Pythians. As a rule, the Pythians were individuals who had come either to this third stage or even to the fourth stage.

But we can think of a personality in a later epoch who went through these stages under the wise direction of her confessors, so that she could devote herself undisturbed to her inner visions. Something very wonderful developed for her, which indeed also remained to a certain degree pathological. Her life was not just a concern of the physician or of the priest but a concern of the entire Church. The Church pronounced her a saint after her death. This was St. Teresa.⁴ This was approximately her path.

You see, one must examine such things as this if one wants to discover what will give medicine and theology a real insight into human nature. One must be prepared to go far beyond the usual category of ideas, for they lose their value. Otherwise one can no longer differentiate between a saint and a fool, between a madman and a genius, and can no longer distinguish any of the others except a normal dyed-in-the-wool average citizen.

This is a view of the human being that must first be met with understanding; then it can really lead to fundamental esoteric knowledge. But it can also be tremendously enlightening in regard to psychological abnormalities as well as to physical abnormalities and physical illnesses. Certain conditions are necessary for these stages to appear. There has to be a certain consistency of the person's ego so that it does not completely penetrate the organism. Also there must be a certain consistency of the astral body: if it is not fine, as it was in St. Teresa, if it is coarse, the result will be different. With St. Teresa, because of the delicacy of her ego organization and astral body, certain physical organs in the lower body had been formed with the same fragile quality.

But it can happen that the ego organization and astral body are quite coarse and yet they have the same characteristic as above. Such an individual can be comparatively normal and show only the physical correlation: then it is only a physical illness. One could say, on the one hand there can be a St. Teresa constitution with its visions and poetic beauty, and on the other hand its physical counterimage in diseased abdominal organs, which in the course of this second person's life is not reflected in the ego and astral organization.

All these things must be spoken about and examined. For those who hold responsibility as physicians or priests are confronted by these things, and they must be equal to the challenge. Theological activity only begins to be effective if theologians are prepared to cope with such phenomena. And physicians only begin to be healers if they also are prepared to deal with such symptoms.

• 1 . Cesare Lombroso (1836–1909), Italian anthropologist. Wrote Genius and Insanity (1864) and The Criminal: Anthropological, Medical and Legal Aspects (1876).
• 2 . Rudolf Steiner, An Outline of Esoteric Science (Hudson, N.Y.: Anthroposophic Press, 1985).
• 3 . Pythians: priestesses of Apollo who delivered the oracles at Delphi.
• 4 . Teresa of Avila (1515–1582), Carmelite nun. Reformed the Carmelite Order in association with John of the Cross. Canonized by the Catholic Church.

The theme of this cycle of lectures was not chosen because it is traditional within academic or philosophical disciplines, as though we thought epistemology or the like should appear within our courses. Rather, it was chosen as the result of what I believe to be an open-minded consideration of the needs and demands of our time. The further evolution of humanity demands new concepts, new notions, and new impulses for social life generally: we need ideas which, when realized, can create social conditions offering to human beings of all stations and classes an existence that seems to them humane. Already, to be sure, it is being said in the widest circles that social renewal must begin with a renewal of our thinking.¹ Yet not everyone in these widest circles imagines something clear and distinct when speaking in this way. One does not ask: whence shall come the ideas upon which one might found a social economy offering man a humane existence? That portion of humanity which has received an education in the last three to four centuries, but particularly since the nineteenth century, has been raised with certain ideas that are outgrowths of the scientific world view or entirely schooled in it. This is particularly true of those who have undergone some academic training. Only those working in fields other than the sciences believe that natural science has had little influence on their pursuits. Yet it is easy to demonstrate that even in the newer, more progressive theology, in history and in jurisprudence—everywhere can be found scientific concepts such as those that arose from the scientific experiments of the last centuries, so that traditional concepts have in a certain way been altered to conform to the new. One need only allow the progress of the new theological developments in the nineteenth century to pass before the mind's eye. One sees, for example, how Protestant theology has arrived at its views concerning the man, Jesus, and the nature of Christ, because at every turn it had in mind certain scientific conceptions that it wanted to satisfy, against which it did not want to sin. At the same time, the old, instinctive ties within the social order began to slacken: they gradually ceased to hold human life together. In the course of the nineteenth century it became increasingly necessary to replace the instincts according to which one class subordinated itself to another, the instincts out of which the new parliamentary institutions, with all their consequences, have come with more-or-less conscious concepts. Not only in Marxism but in many other movements as well there has come about what one might call a transformation of the old social instincts into conscious concepts.

But what was this new element that had entered into social science, into this favorite son of modern thought? It was the conceptions, the new mode of thinking that had been developed in the pursuit of natural science. And today we are faced with the important question: how far shall we be able to progress within a web of social forces woven from such concepts? If we listen to the world's rumbling, if we consider all the hopeless prospects that result from the attempts that are made on the basis of these conceptions, we are confronted with a dismal picture indeed. One is then faced with the portentous question: how does it stand with those very concepts that we have acquired from natural science and now wish to apply to our lives, concepts that—this has become clearly evident in many areas already—are actually rejected by life itself? This vital question, this burning question with which our age confronts us, was the occasion of my choosing the theme, “The Boundaries of Natural Science.” Just this question requires that I treat the theme in such a way that we receive an overview of what natural science can and cannot contribute to an appropriate social order and an idea of the kind of scientific research, the kind of world view to which one would have to turn in order to confront seriously the demands made upon us by our time.

What is it we see if we consider the method according to which one thinks in scientific circles and how others have been influenced in their thinking by those circles? What do we see? We see first of all that an attempt is made to acquire data and to order it in a lucid system with the help of clear concepts. We see how an attempt is made to order the data gathered from inanimate nature by means of the various sciences—mechanics, physics, chemistry, etc.—to order them in a systematic manner but also to permeate the data with certain concepts so that they become intelligible. With regard to inanimate nature, one strives for the greatest possible clarity, for crystal-clear concepts. And a consequence of this striving for lucid concepts is that one seeks, if it is at all possible, to permeate everything that one finds in one's environment with mathematical formulae. One wants to translate data gathered from nature into clear mathematical formulae, into the transparent language of mathematics.

In the last third of the nineteenth century, scientists already believed themselves very close to being able to give a mathematical-mechanical explanation of natural phenomena that would be thoroughly transparent. It remained for them only to explain the little matter of the atom. They wanted to reduce it to a point-force [Kraftpunkt] in order to be able to express its position and momenta in mathematical formulae. They believed they would then be justified in saying: I contemplate nature, and what I contemplate there is in reality a network of interrelated forces and movements wholly intelligible in terms of mathematics. Hence there arose the ideal of the so-called “astronomical explanation of nature,” which states in essence: just as one brings to expression the relationships between the various heavenly bodies in mathematical formulae, so too should one be able to compute everything within this smallest realm, within the “little cosmos” of atoms and molecules, in terms of lucid mathematics. This was a striving that climaxed in the last third of the nineteenth century: it is now on the decline again. Over against this striving for a crystal-clear, mathematical view of the world, however, there stands something entirely different, something that is called forth the moment one tries to extend this striving into realms other than that of inanimate nature. You know that in the course of the nineteenth century the attempt was made to carry this point of view, at least to some extent, into the life sciences. And though Kant had said that a second Newton would never be found who could explain living organisms according to a causal principle similar to that used to explain inorganic nature, Haeckel could nevertheless claim that this second Newton had been found in Darwin, that Darwin had actually tried, by means of the principle of natural selection, to explain how organisms evolve in the same “transparent” terms. And one began to aim for just such a clarity, a clarity at least approaching that of mathematics, in all explanations, proceeding all the way up to the explanation of man himself. Something thereby was fulfilled which certain scientists explained by saying that man's need to understand the causes of phenomena is satisfied only when he arrives at such a transparent, lucid view of the world.

And yet over against this there stands something entirely different. One comes to see that theory upon theory has been contrived in order to construct a view of the world such as I have just described, and ever and again those who strove for such a view of the world called forth—often immediately—their own opposition. There always arose the other party, which demonstrated that such a view of the world could never produce valid explanations, that such a view of the world could never ultimately satisfy man's need to know. On the one hand it was argued how necessary it is to keep one's world view within the lucid realm of mathematics, while on the other hand it was shown that such a world view would, for example, remain entirely incapable of constructing even the simplest living organism in thought of mathematical clarity or, indeed, even of constructing a comprehensible model of organic substance. It was as though the one party continually wove a tissue of ideas in order to explain nature, and the other party—sometimes the same party—continually unraveled it.

It has been possible to follow this spectacle—for it seems just that to anyone who is able to view it with an unprejudiced eye—within the scientific work and striving of the last fifty years especially. If one has sensed the full gravity of the situation, that with regard to this important question nothing but a weaving and unraveling of theories has taken place, one can pose the question: is not the continual striving for such a conceptual explanation of phenomena perhaps superfluous? Is not the proper answer to any question that arises when one confronts phenomena perhaps that one should simply allow the facts to speak for themselves, that one should describe what occurs in nature and forgo any more detailed accounting? Is it not possible that all such explanations show only that humanity is still tied to its mother's apron strings, that humanity in its infancy sought a kind of luxury? Would not humanity, come of age, have to say to itself: we must not strive at all for such explanation; we get nowhere in that way and must simply extirpate the need to know? Why not? As we become older we outgrow the need to play; why, if we were justified in doing so, should we not simply outgrow the need for explanations?

Just such a question could already emerge in the most extraordinarily significant way when, on August 14, 1872, du Bois-Reymond stood before the Second General Meeting of the Association of German Scientists and Physicians to deliver his famous address, “The Boundaries of Natural Science” [“Grenzen des Naturerkennens”], an address still worthy of consideration today. Yet despite the amount that has been written about this address by the important physiologist, du Bois-Reymond, many still do not realize that it represents one of the important junctures in the evolution of the modern world view.

In medieval Scholasticism all of man's thinking, all of his notional activity, was determined by the view that one could explain the broad realms of nature in terms of certain concepts but that one had to draw the line upon reaching the super-sensible. The super-sensible had to be the object of revelation. They felt that man should stand in a relation to the super-sensible in such a way that he would not even wish to penetrate it with the same concepts he formed concerning the realms of nature and external human existence. A limit was set to knowledge on the side of the super-sensible, and it was strongly emphasized that such a limit had to exist, that it simply lay within human nature and the order of the universe that such a limit be recognized. This placement of a limit to knowledge was then renewed from an entirely different side by thinkers and researchers such as du Bois-Reymond. They were no longer Schoolmen, no longer theologians, but just as the medieval theologian, proceeding according to his own mode of thinking, had set a limit to knowledge at the super-sensible, so these thinkers and researchers set a limit at the sensible. The limit was meant to apply above all to the realm of external sensory data.

There were two concepts in particular that du Bois-Reymond had in mind, which to him established the limits natural science could reach but beyond which it could not proceed. Later he increased that number by five in his lecture, “The Seven Enigmas of the World,” but in the first lecture he spoke of the two concepts, “matter” and “consciousness.” He said that when contemplating nature we are forced, in thinking systematically, to apply concepts in such a way that we eventually arrive at the notion of matter. Just what this mysterious entity in space we call “matter” is, however, we can never in any way resolve. We must simply assume the concept “matter,” though it is opaque. If only we assume this opaque concept “matter,” we can apply our mathematical formulae and calculate the movements of matter in terms of the formulae. The realm of natural phenomena becomes comprehensible if only we can posit this “opaque” little point millions upon millions of times. Yet surely we must also assume that it is this same material world that first builds up our bodies and unfolds its own activity within them, so that there rises up within us, by virtue of this corporeal activity, what eventually becomes sensation and consciousness. On the one hand we confront a world of natural phenomena requiring that we construct a concept of “matter,” while on the other hand we confront ourselves, experience the fact of consciousness, observe its phenomena, and surmise that whatever it is we assume to be matter must also lie at the foundation of consciousness. But how, out of these movements of matter, out of inanimate, dead movement, there arises consciousness, or even simple sensation, is a mystery that we cannot possibly fathom. This is the other pole of all the uncertainties, all the limits to knowledge: how can we explain consciousness, or even the simplest sensation?

With regard to these two questions, then—What is matter? How does consciousness arise out of material processes?—du Bois-Reymond maintains that as researchers we must confess: ignorabimus, we shall never know. That is the modern counterpart to medieval Scholasticism. Medieval Scholasticism stood at the limit of the super-sensible world. Modern natural science stands at the limit delineated in essence by two concepts: “matter,” which is everywhere assumed within the sensory realm but nowhere to be found, and “consciousness,” which is assumed to originate within the sense world, although one can never comprehend how.

If one considers this development of modern scientific thought, must one not then say to oneself that scientific research is entangling itself in a kind of web, and only outside of this web can one find the world? For in the final analysis it is there, where matter haunts space, that the external world lies. If this is the one place into which one cannot penetrate, one has no way in which to come to terms with life. Within man one finds the fact of consciousness. Does one come at all near to it with explanations conceived in observing external nature? If in one's search for explanations one pulls up short at human life, how, then, can one arrive at notions of how to live in a way worthy of a human being? How, if one cannot understand the existence or the essence of man according to the assumptions one makes concerning that existence?

As this course of lectures progresses it shall, I believe, become evident beyond any doubt that it is the impotence of the modern scientific method that has made us so impotent in our thinking about social questions. Many today still do not perceive what an important and essential connection exists between the two. Many today still do not perceive that when in Leipzig on August 14, 1872 du Bois-Reymond spoke his ignorabimus, this same ignorabimus was spoken also with regard to all social thought. What this ignorabimus actually meant was: we stand helpless in the face of real life; we have only shadowy concepts; we have no concepts with which to grasp reality. And now, almost fifty years later, the world demands just such concepts of us. We must have them. Such concepts, such impulses, cannot come out of lecture-halls still laboring in the shadow of this ignorabimus. That is the great tragedy of our time. Here lie questions that must be answered.

We want to proceed from fundamental principles to such an answer and above all to consider the question: is there not perhaps something more intelligent that we as human beings could do than what we have done for the last fifty years, namely tried to explain nature after the fashion of ancient Penelope, by weaving theories with one hand and unraveling them with the other? Ah yes, if only we could, if only we could stand before nature entirely without thoughts! But we cannot: to the extent that we are human beings and wish to remain human beings we cannot. If we wish to comprehend nature, we must permeate it with concepts and ideas. Why must we do that?

We must do that, ladies and gentlemen, because only thereby does consciousness awake, because only thereby do we become conscious human beings. Just as each morning upon opening our eyes we achieve consciousness in our interaction with the external world, so essentially did consciousness awake within the evolution of humanity. Consciousness, as it is now, was first kindled through the interaction of the senses and thinking with the outer world. We can watch the historical development of consciousness in the interaction of man's senses with outer nature. In this process consciousness gradually was kindled out of the dull, sleepy cultural life of primordial times. Yet one must only consider with an open mind this fact of consciousness, this interaction between the senses and nature, in order to observe something extraordinary transpiring within man. We must look into our soul to see what is there, either by remaining awhile before fully awakening within that dull and dreamy consciousness or by looking back into the almost dreamlike consciousness of primordial times. If we look within our soul at what lies submerged beneath the surface consciousness arising in the interaction between senses and the outer world, we find a world of representations, faint, diluted to dream-pictures with hazy contours, each image fading into the other. Unprejudiced observation establishes this. The faintness of the representations, the haziness of the contours, the fading of one representation into another: none of this can cease unless we awake to a full interaction with external nature. In order to come to this awakening which is tantamount to becoming fully human—our senses must awake every morning to contact with nature. It was also necessary, however, for humanity as a whole to awake out of a dull, dreamlike vision of primordial worlds within the soul to achieve the present clear representations.

In this way we achieve the clarity of representation and the sharply delineated concepts that we need in order to remain awake, to remain aware of our environment with a waking soul. We need all this in order to remain human in the fullest sense of the word. But we cannot simply conjure it all up out of ourselves. We achieve it only when our senses come into contact with nature: only then do we achieve clear, sharply delineated concepts. We thereby develop something that man must develop for his own sake—otherwise consciousness would not awake. It is thus not an abstract “need for explanations,” not what du Bois-Reymond and other men like him call “the need to know the causes of things,” that drives us to seek explanations but the need to become human in the fullest sense through observing nature. We thus may not say that we can outgrow the need to explain like any other child's play, for that would mean that we would not want to become human in the fullest sense of the word—that is to say, not want to awake in the way we must awake.

Something else happens in this process, however. In coming to such concepts as we achieve in contemplating nature, we at the same time impoverish our inner conceptual life. Our concepts become clear, but their compass becomes diminished, and if we consider exactly what it is we have achieved by means of these concepts, we see that it is an external, mathematical-mechanical lucidity. Within that lucidity, however, we find nothing that allows us to comprehend life. We have, as it were, stepped out into the light but lost the very ground beneath our feet. We find no concepts that allow us to typify life, or even consciousness, in any way. In exchange for the clarity we must seek for the sake of our humanity, we have lost the content of that for which we have striven. And then we contemplate nature around us with our concepts. We formulate such complex ideas as the theory of evolution and the like. We strive for clarity. Out of this clarity we formulate a world view, but within this world view it is impossible to find ourselves, to find man. With our concepts we have moved out to the surface, where we come into contact with nature. We have achieved clarity, but along the way we have lost man. We move through nature, apply a mathematical-mechanical explanation, apply the theory of evolution, formulate all kinds of biological laws; we explain nature; we formulate a view of nature—within which man cannot be found. The abundance of content that we once had has been lost, and we are confronted with a concept that can be formed only with the clearest but at the same time most desiccated and lifeless thinking: the concept of matter. And an ignorabimus in the face of the concept of matter is essentially the confession: I have achieved clarity; I have struggled through to an awakening of full consciousness, but thereby I have lost the essence of man in my thinking, in my explanations, in my comprehension.

And now we turn to look within. We turn away from matter to consider the inner realm of consciousness. We see how within this inner realm of consciousness representations pass in review, feelings come and go, impulses of will flash through us. We observe all this and notice that when we attempt to bring the inner realm into the same kind of focus that we achieved with regard to the external world, it is impossible. We seem to swim in an element that we cannot bring into sharp contours, that continually fades in and out of focus. The clarity for which we strive with regard to outer nature simply cannot be achieved within. In the most recent attempts to understand this inner realm, in the Anglo-American psychology of association, we see how, following the example of Hume, Mill, James, and others, the attempt was made to impose the clarity attained in observation of external nature upon inner sensations and feelings. One attempts to impose clarity upon sensation, and this is impossible. It is as though one wanted to apply the laws of flight to swimming. One does not come to terms at all with the element within which one has to move. The psychology of association never achieves sharpness of contour or clarity regarding the phenomenon of consciousness. And even if one attempts with a certain sobriety, as Herbart has done, to apply mathematical computation to human mental activity [das Vorstellen], to the human soul, one finds it possible, but the computations hover in the air. There is no place to gain a foothold, because the mathematical formulae simply cannot comprehend what is actually occurring within the soul. While one loses man in coming to clarity regarding the external world, one finds man, to be sure—it goes without saying that one finds man when one delves into consciousness—but there is no hope of achieving clarity, for one swims about, borne hither and thither in an insubstantial realm. One finds man, but one cannot find a valid image of man.

It was this that du Bois-Reymond felt very clearly but was able to express only much less clearly—only as a kind of vague feeling about scientific research on the whole—when in August 1872 he spoke his ignorabimus. What this ignorabimus wants to say in essence is that on the one hand, we have in the historical evolution of humanity arrived at clarity regarding nature and have constructed the concept of matter. In this view of nature we have lost man—that is, ourselves. On the other hand we look down into consciousness. To this realm we want to apply that which has been most important in arriving at the contemporary explanation of nature. Consciousness rejects this lucidity. This mathematical clarity is entirely out of place. To be sure, we find man in a sense, but our consciousness is not yet strong enough, not yet intensive enough to comprehend man fully.

Again, one is tempted to answer with an ignorabimus, but that cannot be, for we need something more than an ignorabimus in order to meet the social demands of the modern world. The limit that du Bois-Reymond had come up against when he spoke [about] his ignorabimus on August 14, 1872 lies not within the human condition as such but only within its present stage of historical human evolution. How are we to transcend this ignorabimus? That is the burning question.

• 1. “... that social renewal must begin with the renewal of our thinking.” The original German (“... dass die soziale Erneuerung vom Geiste ausgehen musse”) might be translated alternately “that social renewal must proceed from the spirit.” The German word “Geist”—bane of all who would translate German into English—embraces two meanings that remain in English quite distinct “mind” and “spirit.” The translator must choose one, even though the German always implies both. If he chooses the former, he runs the risk of seriously distorting the author's intentions (as did the man who translated Hegel's Phanomenologie des Geistes as The Phenomenology of Mind). If he chooses the latter, he flies in the face of the dubious connotations that “spirit” and “spiritual” convey—no doubt as a result of the basically empirical cast of English thought. Although “Geist” as Steiner uses it should almost invariably be translated “spirit” (which of course comprehends “wind”), here the context has led us to choose the more restricted meaning.

We have seen that one arrives at two limits when one seeks either to penetrate more deeply into natural phenomena or, proceeding from the state of normal consciousness, to penetrate more deeply into one's own being in order to uncover the essential nature of consciousness. Yesterday we showed already what happens at the one limit to knowledge. We have seen that man awakes to full consciousness in coming into contact with an external, physical world of sense. Man would remain a more-or-less drowsy being, a being with a sleepy soul, if he could not awake in confronting external nature. And what has happened in the spiritual evolution of humanity, in man's gradual acquisition of knowledge about external nature, is actually nothing other than what happens every morning when we awake out of sleep or dream-consciousness by confronting an external world. This latter is a kind of moment of awakening, and in the course of the evolution of humanity we have to do with a gradual awakening, a kind of long, drawn-out moment of awakening.

Now, we have seen that at this frontier a certain inertia on the part of the soul very easily comes into play, so that when we come up against the extended world of phenomena we do not proceed in the manner of Goethean phenomenology by halting at this frontier and ordering the phenomena according to the representations, concepts, and ideas we have already gained, describing them in a systematic, rational manner, and so forth. Instead, we roll on a bit farther beyond the phenomena with our concepts and ideas and thereby create a world, for example a world of metaphysical atoms, molecules, and so forth. This world, when it is so constituted, is merely a fabrication of the mind, a world into which there enters a creeping doubt, so that we have to unravel again the theoretical web we have spun. And we have seen that it is possible to guard against such a violation of this frontier of our knowledge through phenomenalism, through working purely with the phenomena themselves. We have also had to show that at this point in our striving for knowledge something emerges that commends itself to our use as an immediate necessity: mathematics and that part of mechanics that can be comprehended without any empirical observation, i.e., the entire compass of so-called analytical mechanics.

If we call to mind everything comprehended by mathematics and analytical mechanics, we have before us the system of concepts that allows us to enter into phenomena with the utmost certainty. And yet, as I began to indicate yesterday, one should not deceive oneself, for the whole manner in which we call forth the notions of mathematics and analytical mechanics, this process within our souls, is entirely different from that employed when we experiment with or observe sensory data and then seek to comprehend them, when we try to gather knowledge from sensory experience. In order to arrive at the fullest clarity regarding these matters one must bring all one's mental energy to bear, for in this realm full clarity can be attained only with the greatest mental exertion.

What is the difference between accumulating knowledge from sensory experience in a Baconian manner and the more inward mode of apprehension we find in mathematics and analytical mechanics? One can sharply differentiate the latter from those modes of apprehension that are not inward in this way by formulating clearly the concepts of the parallelogram of motion and the parallelogram of forces. One theorem of analytical mechanics states that two angular vectors proceeding from one point result in a third vector. To say, however, that a vector of a specific force here [see diagram: a] and a vector of a specific force here [b] result in a third force, which can also be determined according to the parallelogram—that is another notion altogether.

The parallelogram of motion lies strictly within the province of analytical mechanics, for it is internally consistent and demands no external proof. In this it is like the Rule of Pythagoras or any other geometrical axiom, but the existence of the parallelogram of forces can be determined only by experience, by experimentation. In this case, we bring something into that which we work through inwardly: the force that can be given only empirically from without. Here we no longer have a pure, analytical mechanics but an “empirical mechanics.” One can thus differentiate sharply between that which is still actually mathematical—as we still conceive mathematics today—and that which leads over into conventional empiricism.

Now one stands before this phenomenon of mathematics as such. We comprehend mathematical truths. We proceed from mathematical phenomena to certain axioms. We weave the fabric of mathematics out of these axioms and then stand before an architectonic whole apprehended by the mind's eye [im inneren Anschauen]. If we are able by means of energetic thinking to differentiate sharply this inner apprehension from anything that can be experienced outwardly, we must see in this fabric of mathematics something that arises through an activity of soul entirely different from that which underlies our experience of the outer objects of sensation. Whether or not we arrive at a satisfactory comprehension of the world depends to a tremendous extent on our being able to make this clear distinction out of inner experience. We thus must ask: where does mathematics originate? Nowadays this question is still not pursued rigorously enough. One does not ask: how is this inner activity of the soul that we need in mathematics, in the wonderful architecture of mathematics—how is this inner activity of the soul different from that whereby we grasp external nature through the senses? One does not pose this question and seek an answer with sufficient rigor, because it is the tragedy of the materialistic world view that, while on the one hand it presses for sensory experience, on the other hand it is driven unawares into an abstract intellectualism, into a realm of abstraction where one is isolated from any true comprehension of the phenomena of the material world.

What kind of capacity is it, then, that we acquire when we engage in mathematics? We want to address ourselves to this question. In order to answer this question we must, I believe, have reached a complete understanding of one thing in particular: we must take fully seriously the concept of becoming as it applies to human life as well. We must begin by acquiring the discipline that modern science can teach us. We must school ourselves in this way and then, taking the strict methodology, the scientific discipline we have learned from modern natural science, transcend it, so that we use the same exacting approach to rise into higher regions, thereby extending this methodology to the investigation of entirely different realms as well. For this reason I believe—and I want this to be expressly stated—that nobody can attain true knowledge of the spirit who has not acquired scientific discipline, who has not learned to investigate and think in the laboratories according to the modern scientific method. Those who pursue spiritual science [Geisteswissenschaft] have less cause to undervalue modern science than anyone. On the contrary, they know how to value it at its full worth. And many people—if I may here insert a personal remark—were extremely upset with me when, before publishing anything pertaining to spiritual science as such, I wrote a great deal about the problems of natural science in a way that appeared necessary to me. So you see it is necessary on the one hand for us to cultivate a scientific habit of mind, so that this can accompany us when we cross the frontiers of natural science. In addition, it is the quality of this scientific method and its results that we must take very seriously indeed.

You see, if we consider the simple phenomenon of warmth that appears when we rub two bodies together, it would be utterly unscientific to say, regarding this isolated phenomenon, that the warmth had been created ex nihilo or simply existed. Rather, we seek the conditions under which this warmth was previously latent and now appears by means of the bodies. We proceed from the one phenomenon to the other and thus take seriously this process of becoming [das Werden]. We must do the same with the concepts that we consider in spiritual science. So we must first of all ask: is that which manifests itself as the ability to perform mathematics present in man throughout his entire existence between birth and death? No, it is not always present. It awakes at a certain point in time. To be sure, we can, while still remaining empirical regarding the outer world, observe with great precision how there gradually arise out of the dark recesses of human consciousness faculties that manifest themselves as the ability to perform mathematics and something like mathematics that we have yet to discuss. If one can observe this emergence in time precisely and soberly, just as scientific research treats the phenomena of the melting or boiling point, one sees that this new faculty emerges at approximately that time of life when the child changes teeth. One must treat such a point in the development of human life with the same attitude with which physics, for example, teaches one to treat the melting or boiling point. One must acquire the ability to carry over into the complicated realm of human life the same strict inner discipline that one can acquire by observing simple physical phenomena according to the methods of modern science. If one does this, one sees that in the course of human development from birth, or rather from conception, up to the change of teeth, the soul faculties enabling one to perform mathematics manifest themselves gradually within the organism but that they are not yet fully present. Now we say that the warmth that manifests itself in a body under certain conditions was latent in that body beforehand, that it was at work within the inner structure of that body. In the same way we must be entirely clear that the capacity to perform mathematics, which becomes most evident at the change of teeth and reveals itself gradually in another sense, was also at work beforehand within the human organization. We thus arrive at an important and valuable insight into the nature of mathematics—mathematics taken, of course, in the very broadest sense. We begin to understand how that which is at our disposal after the change of teeth as a soul faculty worked previously within to organize us. Yes, within the child until approximately its seventh year there works an inner mathematics, an inner mathematics not abstract like our external one but full of active energy, a mathematics which, if I may use Plato's expression, not only can be inwardly envisioned [angeschaut] but is full of active life. Up to this point in time there exists within us something that “mathematicizes” us through and through.

When we ask at first entirely superficially what can be seen by looking empirically at this “latent mathematics” in the body of the young child, we are led to three things resembling inner senses. In the course of these lectures we shall come to see that one can indeed speak of senses within as well. Today I want only to indicate that we are led to something that develops an inward faculty of perception similar to the outward perception developed by the eyes and ears, except that the former remains unconscious within us during these first years. And if we look within, look into our own inner organization not like nebulous mystics but with all our powers of apprehension, we can find within three functions similar to those of the outward senses. We find inner senses that exercise a certain activity, a certain inner mathematics, just in those first several years. One encounters first of all what I would like to call the sense of life. This sense of life manifests itself in later years as a perception of our inner state as a whole. In a certain way we feel either well or unwell. We feel comfortable or uncomfortable: just as we have a faculty for perceiving outwardly with the eyes, so also do we have a faculty for perceiving inwardly. This faculty is directed toward the whole organism and is for that reason dark and dull; yet it is there all the same. We shall have more to say about this later. For the moment I want to anticipate this later discussion only by remarking that this sense of life is—if I may use a tautology—especially active in the vitality of the child up until the change of teeth.

Another inner sense that we must consider when we look within in this way is that which I would like to call the sense of movement. We must form a clear conception of this sense of movement. When we move our limbs, we are aware of this not only by viewing ourselves externally but also by means of an internal perception. Also when we walk: we are conscious that we are walking not only in that we see objects pass and our view of the external world changes but also in that we have an internal perception of the movements of the limbs, of changes within ourselves as we move. Normally we remain unaware of the inner experiences and perception that run parallel to the outer because of the strength of the external impressions, much as a dim light is “extinguished” by a bright one.

And a third inward-looking faculty is the sense of balance. The sense of balance is what enables us to locate ourselves within the world, to avoid falling, to perceive in a certain way how we can bring ourselves into harmony with the forces in our environment. We perceive this process of bringing ourselves into harmony with our environment inwardly. We thus can truly say that we bear within ourselves these three inner senses: the sense of life, the sense of movement, and the sense of balance. They are especially active in childhood up to the change of teeth. Around this time of the change of teeth their activity begins to wane, but observe to take but one example, the sense of balance—observe how at birth the child has as yet nothing enabling it to attain the position of balance it needs in later life. Consider how the child gradually gains control of itself, how it learns at first to crawl on all fours, how it gradually achieves through its sense of balance the ability to stand and to walk, how it finally is able to maintain its own balance.

If one considers the entire process of development from conception to the change of teeth, one sees therein the powerful activity of these three inner senses. And if one can attain a certain insight into what is happening there, one sees that there is at work in the sense of balance and the sense of movement nothing other than a living “mathematicizing” [ein lebendiges Mathematisieren]. In order for it to come to life, the sense of life is there to vitalize it. We thus see a kind of latent realm of mathematics active within man. This activity does not entirely cease at the change of teeth, but it does become at that time considerably less pronounced for the remainder of life. That which is inwardly active in the sense of balance, the sense of movement, and the sense of life becomes free. This latent mathematics becomes free, just as latent heat can become liberated heat. And we see how that which initially was woven through the organism as an element of soul becomes free. We see how this mathematics emerges as abstraction from a condition in which it was originally a concrete force shaping the human organism. And because as human beings we are suspended in the web of existence according to temporal and spatial relationships, we take this mathematics that has become free out into the world and seek to comprehend the external world by means of something that worked within us up until the change of teeth. You see, it is not a denial but rather an extension of natural science that results when one considers rightly what ought to live within spiritual science as attitude and will.
We thus carry what originates within ourselves beyond the frontier of sense perception. We observe man within a process of becoming. We do not simply observe mathematics on the one hand and sensory experience on the other but rather the emergence of mathematics within the developing human being. And now we come to that which truly leads over into spiritual science itself. You see, that which we call forth out of our own inner life, this “mathematicizing,” becomes in the end an abstraction. Yet our experience of it need not remain an abstraction. In our time there is, to be sure, little opportunity for us to experience mathematics in a true light. Yet at a certain point in the development of Western civilization there does come to light something of this sense of a special spirit in mathematics. This comes to light at the point where Novalis, the poet Novalis, who underwent a good mathematical training in his studies, writes about mathematics in his Fragments. He calls mathematics a grand poem, a wonderful, grand poem.

One really must have experienced at some time what it is that leads from an abstract understanding of the geometrical forms to a sense of wonder at the harmony that underlies this inner “mathematicizing.” One really must have had the opportunity to get beyond the cold, sober performance of mathematics, which many people even hate. One must have struggled through as Novalis had in order to stand in awe of the inner harmony and—if I may use an expression you have heard often in a completely different context—the “melody” [Melos] of mathematics.

Then something new enters into one's experience of mathematics. There enters into mathematics, which otherwise remains purely intellectual and, metaphorically speaking, interests only the head, something that engages the entire man. This something manifests itself in such youthful Spirits as Novalis in the feeling: that which you behold as mathematical harmony, that which you weave through all the phenomena of the universe, is actually the same loom that wove you during the first years of growth as a child here an earth. This is to feel concretely man's connection with the cosmos. And when one works one's way through to such an inner experience, which many hold to be mere fantasy because they have not actually attained it themselves, one has some idea what the spiritual scientist [Geistesforscher] experiences when he rises to a more extensive grasp of this “mathematicizing” by undergoing an inner development of which I have yet to speak and which you will find fully depicted in my book, Knowledge of the Higher Worlds and Its Attainment.² For then the capacity of soul manifesting itself as this inner mathematics passes over into something far more comprehensive. It becomes something that remains just as exact as mathematical thought yet does not proceed solely from the intellect but from the whole man.

On this path of constant inner work—an inner work far more demanding than that performed in the laboratory or observatory or any other scientific institution—one comes to know what it is that underlies mathematics, that underlies this simple faculty of the human soul which can be expanded into something far more comprehensive. In this higher experience of mathematics one comes to know Inspiration. One comes to understand the differences between what lives in us as mathematics and what lives in us as outer-directed empiricism. In this outer-directed empiricism we have sense impressions that give content to our empty concepts. In Inspiration we have something inwardly spiritual, the activity of which manifests itself already in mathematics, if we know how to grasp mathematics properly—something spiritual which in our early years lives and weaves within us. This activity continues. In doing mathematics we experience this in part. We come to realize that the faculty for performing mathematics rests upon Inspiration, and we can come to experience Inspiration itself by evolving into spiritual scientists. Our representations and concepts then receive their content in a way other than through external experience. We can inspire ourselves with the spiritual force that works within us during childhood. For what works within us during our childhood is spirit. The spirit, however, resides in the human body and must be perceived there through the body, within man. It can be viewed in its pure, free form if one acquires through the faculty of Inspiration the capacity not only to think in mathematical concepts but to view that which exists as a real force in that it organizes us through and through up until the seventh year. And that which manifests itself partially in mathematics and reveals itself as a much more expansive realm through Inspiration can be inwardly viewed, if one employs certain spiritual scientific methods about which—as I have said—I plan yet to speak. One thereby gains not merely new results to add to those acquired through the old powers of cognition but rather an entirely new mode of apprehension. One acquires a new “Inspirative” cognition.

The course of human evolution has been such that these powers of Inspirative cognition have receded with the passage of time, after having been present earlier to a very high degree. One must come to understand how Inspiration arises within the inner being of man—that same Inspiration that survives in the West only in the diluted, intellectual experience of mathematics. The experience can be expanded, however, if only one comprehends fully the inner nature of that realm; only then does one begin to understand what lived in that earlier consciousness transmitted to us actually only from the East, from the Vedanta and the other Eastern philosophies that remain so cryptic to the Western mind. For what was it that actually lived within these Eastern philosophies? lt was something that arose through soul faculties of a mathematical nature. It was an Inspiration. It was not merely mathematics but rather something attained within the soul in a way similar to that in which one performs mathematics. Thus I would say that the mathematical atmosphere emanating from the Vedanta and similar ancient world views is something that can be understood from the perspective one attains in rising again to enter the realm of Inspiration. If one can raise to vivid inner life that which works unconsciously in mathematics and the mathematical sciences and can carry it over into another realm, one discovers the same mathematical element that Goethe viewed. Goethe modestly confessed that he did not have proficiency in mathematics in any conventional sense. Goethe has written on his relationship to mathematics in a very interesting series of essays, which you can find in his scientific writings under the heading “Relationship to Mathematics.” Extraordinarily interesting! For despite Goethe's modest confession that he had not acquired a proficiency in the handling of actual mathematical concepts and theories, he does require one thing: he calls for a phenomenalism such as he employed in his own scientific studies. He demands that within the secondary phenomena confronting us in the phenomenal world we seek the archetypal phenomenon [Urphänomen]. But just what kind of activity is this? He demands that we trace external phenomena back to the archetypal phenomenon, in just the same way that the mathematician traces the outward apprehension [äusseres Anschauen] of complex structures back to the axiom. Goethe's archetypal phenomena are empirical axioms, axioms that can be experienced.

Goethe thus demands, in a truly mathematical spirit, that one inwardly permeate phenomena with mathematics. He writes that we must see the archetypal phenomena in such a way that we are able at all times to justify our procedures according to the rigorous requirements of the mathematician. Thus what Goethe seeks is a modified, transformed mathematics, one that suffuses phenomena. He demands this as a scientific activity.

Goethe was able, therefore, to suffuse with light the one pole that otherwise remains so dark if we postulate only the concept of matter. We shall see how Goethe approached this pole; we modern must, however, approach the other, the pole of consciousness. We must investigate in the Same way how soul faculties manifest their activity in the human being, how they proceed from man's inner nature to manifest their activity externally. We shall have to investigate this. It shall become clear that we must complement the method of investigating the external world offered by Goethean phenomenology with a method of comprehending the realm of human consciousness. It must be a mode of comprehension justifiable in the sense in which Goethe's can be justified to the mathematician—a method such as I tried to employ in a modest way in my book, Philosophy of Freedom.³

At the pole of matter we thus encounter the results yielded by Goethean phenomenology and at the pole of consciousness those attained by pursuing the method that I sought to establish in a modest way in my Philosophy of Freedom.

Tomorrow we will want to pursue this further.

• 2. Wie erlangt man Erkenntnisse der hoheren Welten?, Berlin, 1909 (Knowledge of the Higher Worlds and Its Attainment. Anthroposophie Press, Spring Valley, N.Y., reprinted 1983).
• 3. Die Philosophie der Freiheit, Berlin, 1894 (The Philosophy of Freedom, Anthroposophic Press, Spring Valley, N.Y., 1964). Earlier translations of this book (1922, 1938, and 1963) bore the title The Philosophy of Spiritual Activity, following a suggestion given by Steiner himself. The English word “freedom” connotes a passive state; the German “Freiheit” (as is clean from the following lecture), an objective basis for moral action achieved through intense inner activity.

Yesterday's considerations led us to conclude that at one boundary of cognition we must come to a halt within phenomena and then permeate them with what the phenomena call forth within our consciousness, with concepts, ideas, and so forth. It became apparent that the realm in which these ideas are most pure and pellucid is that of mathematics and analytical mechanics. Our considerations then climaxed in showing how reflection reveals that everything present in the soul as mathematics, as analytical mechanics, actually rests upon Inspiration. Then we were able to indicate how the impulses proceeding from Inspiration are diffused throughout the ancient Indian Vedanta: the same spirit from which we now draw only mathematics and analytical mechanics was once the source of the delicate spirituality of the Vedanta. We were able to show how Goethe, in establishing his mode of phenomenology, always strives to find the archetypal phenomenon while remaining within the phenomena themselves and that his search for die archetypal phenomenon that underlies complex phenomena is, inwardly, the same as the mathematician's search for the axiom underlying complex mathematical constructs. Goethe, therefore, who himself admitted that he had no conventional mathematical training, nevertheless sensed the essence of mathematics so clearly that he demanded a method for the determination of archetypal phenomena rigorous enough to satisfy a mathematician. It is just this that the Western wind finds so attractive in the Vedanta: that in its inner organization, in its progression from one contemplation to the next, it reveals the same inner necessity as mathematics and analytical mechanics. That such connections are not uncovered by academic studier of the Vedanta is simply a consequence of there being so few people today with a universal education. Those who engage in pursuits that then lead them into Oriental philosophy have too little comprehension—and, as I have said, Goethe did have this—of the true inner structure of mathematics. They thus never grasp this philosophy's vital nerve. At the one pole, then, the pole of matter, we have been able to indicate the attitude we must assume initially if we do not wish to continue weaving a Penelope's web like the world view woven by recent science but rather to come to grips with something that rests upon a firm foundation, that bears its center of gravity within itself.

On the other side there stands, as I indicated yesterday, the pole of consciousness. If we attempt to investigate the content of consciousness merely by brooding our way into our souls in the nebulous manner of certain mystics, what we attain are actually nothing but certain reminiscences that have been stored up in our consciousness since birth, since our childhoods. This can easily be demonstrated empirically. One need think only of a certain man well educated in the natural sciences who, in order to demonstrate that the so-called “inner life” partakes of the nature of reminiscences, describes an experience he once had while standing in front of a bookstore. In the store he saw a book that captured his attention by its title. It dealt with the lower form of animal life. And, seeing this book, he had to smile. Now imagine how astonished he was: a serious scientist, a professor, who sees a book title in a bookstore—a book on the lower animals at that!—and feels compelled to smile! Then he began to ponder just whence this smile might have come. At first he could think of nothing. And then it occurred to him: I shall close my eyes. And as he closed his eyes and it became dark all around him, he heard in the distance a musical motif. Hearing this musical motif in the moment reminded him of the music he had heard as a young lad when he danced for the first time. And he realized that of course there lived in his subconscious not only this musical motif but also a bit of the partner with whom he had hopped about. He realized how something that his normal consciousness had long since forgotten, something that had not made so strong an impression on him that he would have thought it possible for it to remain distinct for a whole lifetime, had now risen up within him as a whole complex of associations. And in the moment in which his attention had been occupied with a serious book, he had not been conscious that in the distance a music box was playing. Even the sounds of the music box had remained unconscious at the time. Only when he closed his eyes did they emerge.

Many things that are mere reminiscences emerge from consciousness in this way, and then some nebulous mystics come forth to tell us how they have become aware of a profound connection with the divine “Principle of Being” within their own inner life, how there resounds from within a higher experience, a rebirth of the human soul. And thereby vast mystical webs are woven, webs that are nothing but the forgotten melody of the music box. One can ascribe a great deal of the mystical literature to this forgotten melody of the music box.

This is precisely what a true spiritual science requires: that we remain circumspect and precise enough to refrain from trumpeting forth everything that arises out of the unconscious as reminiscences, as mysticism, as though it were something that could lay claim to objective meaning. For it is just the spiritual scientist who most needs inner clarity if he wishes to work in a truly fruitful way in this direction. He needs inner clarity above all when he undertakes to delve into the depths of consciousness in order to come to grips with its true nature. One must delve into the depths of consciousness itself, yet at the same time one must not remain a dilettante. One must acquire a professional competence in everything that psychopathology, psychology, and physiology have determined in order to be able to differentiate between that which makes an unjustifiable claim to spiritual scientific recognition and that which has been gained through the same kind of discipline, as, for example, mathematics or analytical mechanics.

To this end I sought already in the last century to characterize in a modest way this other pole, the pole of consciousness, as opposed to the pole of matter. To understand the pole of matter requires that we build upon Goethe's view of nature. The pole of consciousness, on the other hand, was not to be reached so easily by a Goetheanistic approach, for the simple reason that Goethe was no trivial thinker, nor trivial in his feelings when it was a matter of cognition. Rather, he brought with him into this realm all the reverence that is necessary if one seeks to approach the springs of knowledge. And thus Goethe, who was by disposition more attuned to external nature, felt a certain anxiety about anything that would lead down into the depths of consciousness itself, about thinking elaborated into its highest, purest forms. Goethe felt blessed that he had never thought about thinking. One must understand what Goethe meant by this, for one cannot actually think about thinking. One cannot actually think thinking any more than one can “iron” iron or “wood” wood. But one can do something else. What one can do is attempt to follow the paths that are opened up in thinking when it becomes more and more rational, to pursue them in the way one does through the discipline of mathematical thinking. If one does this, one enters via a natural inner progression into the realm that I sought to consider in my Philosophy of Freedom. What one attains in this way is not a thinking about thinking. One can speak of thinking about thinking in a metaphorical sense at best. One does attain something else, however: what one attains is an actual viewing [Anschauen] of thinking, but to arrive at this “viewing of thinking,” it is necessary first to have acquired a concrete notion of the nature of sense-free thinking. One must have progressed so far in the inner work of thinking that one attains a state of consciousness in which one recognizes one's thinking to be sense-free merely by grasping that thinking, by “viewing” it as such.

This is the path that I sought to follow—if only, as I have said, in a modest way—in my Philosophy of Freedom. What I sought there was first to make thinking sense-free and then to present this thinking to consciousness in the same way that mathematics or the faculties and powers of analytical mechanics are present to consciousness when one pursues these sciences with the requisite discipline.

Perhaps at this juncture I might be allowed to add a personal remark. In positing this sense-free thinking as a simple fact, yet nevertheless a fact capable of rigorous demonstration in that it can be called forth in inner experience like the structure of mathematics, I flew in the face of every kind of philosophy current in the 1880s and 1890s. It was objected again and again: this “sense-free thinking” has no basis in any kind of reality. Already in my Theory of Knowledge Implicit in Goethes World Conception,⁴ however, in the early 1880s, I had pointed to the experience of pure thinking, in the presence of which one realizes: you are now living in an element that no longer contains any sense impressions and nevertheless reveals itself in its inner activity as a reality. Of this thinking I had to say that it is here we find the true spiritual communion of humanity and Union with reality. It is as though we have grabbed the coat-tails of universal being and can feel how we are related to it as souls. I had to protest vigorously against what was then the trend in philosophy, that to which Eduard von Hartmann paid homage in 1869 by giving his Philosophy of the Unconscious the motto: “Speculative Results Following the Method of Scientific Induction.” That was a philosophical bow to natural science. I wrote to protest against this insubstantial metaphysics, which arises only when we allow our thinking to roll on beyond the veil of sense as I have described. I thus gave my Philosophy of Freedom the motto: “Observations of the Soul According to the Scientific Method.” I wished to indicate thereby that the content of a philosophy is not contrived but rather in the strictest sense the result of inner observation, just as color and sound result from observation of the outer world. And in experiencing this element of pure thought—an element that, to be sure, has a certain chilling effect on human nature—one makes a discovery. One discovers that human beings certainly can speak instinctively of freedom, that within man there do exist impulses that definitely tend toward freedom but that these impulses remain unconscious and instinctive until one rediscovers freedom in one's own thinking. For out of sense-free thinking there can flow impulses to moral action which, because we have attained a mode of thinking that is devoid of sensation, are no longer determined by the senses but by pure spirit. One experiences pure spirit by observing, by actually observing how moral forces flow into sense-free thinking. What one gains in this way above all is that one is able to bid farewell to any sort of mystical superstition, for superstition results in something that is in a way hidden and is only assumed on the basis of dark intimations. One can bid it farewell because now one has experienced in one's consciousness something that is inwardly transparent, something that no longer receives its impulses from without but fills itself from within with spiritual content. One has grasped universal being at one point in making oneself exclusively a theater of cognition; one has grasped the activity of universal being in its true form and observed how it yields itself to us when we give ourselves over to this inner contemplation. We grasp the actuality of universal being at one point only. We grasp it not as abstract thought but as a reality when moral impulses weave themselves into the fabric of sense-free thinking. These impulses show themselves to be free in that they no longer live as instinct but in the garb of sense-free thinking. We experience freedom—to be sure a freedom that we realize immediately man can only approach in the way that a hyperbola approaches its asymptote, yet we know that this freedom lives within man to the extent that the spirit lives within him. We first conceive the spirit within the element of freedom.

We thereby discover something deep within man that weaves together the impulses of our moral-social actions—freedom—and cognition, that which we finally attain scientifically. By grasping freedom within sense-free thinking, by understanding that this comprehension occurs only within the realm of spirit, we experience that while performing this we are indeed within the spirit. We experience a mode of cognition that manifests itself simultaneously as an inner activity. It is an inner activity that can become a deed in the external world, something entirely capable of flowing over into the social life. At that time I sought to make two points absolutely clear, but at that time they were hardly understood. I tried above all to make clear that the most important thing about following such a cognitional path is the inner “schooling” [Erziehung] that we undertake. Yes, to have attained sense-free thinking is no small thing. One must undergo many inner trials. One must overcome obstacles of which otherwise one has hardly any idea. By overcoming these obstacles; by finally attaining an inner experience that can hardly be retained because it escapes normal human powers so easily; by immersing oneself in this essence, one does not proceed in a nebulous, mystical way, but rather one descends into a luminous clarity, one immerses oneself in spirit. One comes to know the spirit. One knows what spirit is, knows because one has found the spirit by traveling along a path followed by the rest of humanity as well, except that they do not follow it to its end. It is a path, though, that must be followed to its end by all those who would strive to fulfil the social and cognitional needs of our age and to become active in those realms. That is the one thing that I intimated in my Philosophy of Freedom.

The other thing I intimated is that when we have found the freedom that lives in sense-free thinking to be the basis of true morality, we can no longer seek to deduce moral concepts and moral imperatives as a kind of analogue of natural phenomena. We must renounce everything that would lead us to ethical content obtained according to the method of natural science; this ethical content must come forth freely out of super-sensible experience. I ventured to use a term that was little understood at the time but that absolutely must be posited if one enters this inner realm and wishes to understand freedom at all. I expressed it thus: the moral realm arises within us in our moral imagination [moralische Phantasie]. I employed this term “moral imagination” with conscious intent in order to indicate that—just as with the creations of the imagination [Phantasie]—the requisite spiritual effort is expended within man, regardless of anything external, and to indicate on the other hand that everything that makes the world morally and religiously valuable for us—namely moral imperatives—can be grasped only within this realm that remains free from all external impressions and has as its ground man's inner activity alone. At the same time I indicated clearly in my Philosophy of Freedom that, if we remain within human experience, moral content reveals itself to us as the content of moral imagination but that when we enter more deeply into this moral content, which we bear down out of the spiritual world, we simultaneously enter the external world of the senses.

If you really study this philosophy, you shall see clearly the door through which it offers access to the spirit. Yet in formulating it I proceed in such a way that my method could meet the rigorous requirements of analytical mechanics, and I placed no value on any concurrence with the twaddle arising out of spiritualism and nebulous mysticism. One can easily earn approbation from these sides if one wants to ramble on idly about “the spirit” but avoids the inner path that I sought to traverse at that time. I sought to bring certainty and rigor into the investigation of the spirit, and it remained a matter of total indifference to me whether my results concurred with all the twaddle that comes forth from nebulous mystical depths to represent the spirit. At the same time, however, something else was gained in this process.

If one pursues further the two paths that I described on the basis of actual observation of consciousness in my Philosophy of Freedom, if one goes yet further, takes the next step—then what? If one has attained the inner experiences that are to be found within the sphere of pure thought, experiences that reveal themselves in the end as experiences of freedom, one achieves a transformation of the cognitional process with respect to the inner realm of consciousness. Then concepts and ideas no longer remain merely that; Hegelianism no longer remains Hegelianism and abstraction no longer abstraction, for at this point consciousness passes over into the actual realm of the spirit. Then one's immediate experience is no longer the mere “concept,” the mere “idea,” no longer the realm of thought that constitutes Hegelian philosophy—no: now concepts and ideas transform themselves into images, into Imagination. One discovers the higher plane of which moral imagination is only the initial projection; one discovers the cognitional level of Imagination. While philosophising, one remains caught within a self-created reality; now, after pursuing the inner path indicated by my Philosophy of Freedom, after transcending the level of imagination [Phantasie], one enters a realm of ideas that are no longer dream-images but are grounded in spiritual realities, just as color and tone are grounded in the realities of sense. At this point one attains the realm of Imagination, a thinking in pictures [bildliches Denken]. One attains Imaginations that are real, that are no longer merely a subjective inner experience but part of an objective spiritual world. One attains Inspiration, which can be experienced when one performs mathematics in the right way, when this performance of mathematics itself becomes an experience that can then be developed further into that which one finds in the Vedanta. Inspiration is complemented at the other pole by Imagination, and only through Imagination does one arrive at something enabling one to comprehend man. In Imaginations, in pictorial representations [bildhafte Vorstellungen]—representations that have a more concrete content than abstract thoughts—one finds what is needed to comprehend man from the point of view of consciousness. One must renounce proceeding further when one has reached this point and not simply allow sense-free thinking to roll on with a kind of inner inertia, nor believe that one can penetrate into the secret depths of consciousness through sense-free thinking. Instead one must have the resolve to call a halt and confront the “external world” of the spirit from within. Theo one will no longer spin thoughts into a consciousness that can never fully grasp them; rather, one will receive Imagination, through which consciousness can finally be comprehended. One must learn to call a halt at this limit within the phenomena themselves, and thoughts then reveal themselves to one as that within cognition which can organize these phenomena; one needs to renounce at the outward limit of cognition and thereby receive the spiritual complement to phenomena in the intellect. In just this way one must renounce in the process of inner investigation, one must come to a halt with one's thinking and transform it. Thinking must be brought inwardly to a kind of reflection [Reflexion] capable of receiving images that then unfold the inner nature of man. Let me indicate the soul's inner life in this way [see illustration]. If through self-contemplation and sense-free thinking I approach this inner realm, I must not roll onward with my thinking lest I pass into a region where sense-free thinking finds nothing and can call forth only subjective pictures or reminiscences out of my past. I must renounce and turn back. But then Imagination will reveal itself at the point of reflection. Then the inner world reveals itself to me as a world of Imagination.

Now, you see, we arrive inwardly at two poles. By proceeding into the outer world we approach the pole of Inspiration; by proceeding into the inner world of consciousness we approach the pole of Imagination. Once one has grasped these Imaginations it becomes possible to collate them, just as one collates data concerning external nature by means of experiments and conceptual thinking. In this manner one can collate inwardly something real, something that is not a physical body but an etheric body informing man's physical body throughout his whole life, yet in an especially intensive manner during the first seven years. At the change of teeth this etheric body takes on a somewhat different configuration [Gestalt], as I described to you yesterday. By having attained Imagination one is able to observe the way in which the etheric or life-body works within the physical body.

Now, it would be easy to object from the standpoint of some philosophical epistemology or other: if he wishes to remain logical, man must remain within the conceptual, within what is accessible to discursive thinking and capable of demonstration in the usual sense of the term. Fine. One can philosophise thus on and on. Yet however strong one's belief in such an epistemological tissue, however logically correct it may be, reality does not manifest itself thus; it does not live in the element of logical constructs. Reality lives in pictures, and if we do not resolve to achieve pictures or Imaginations, man's real nature shall elude our grasp. It is not at all a matter of deciding beforehand out of a certain predilection just what form knowledge must take in order to be valid but rather of asking reality in what form it wishes to reveal itself. This leads us to Imagination. In this way, then, what lives within moral imagination manifests itself as the projection into normal consciousness of a higher spiritual world that can be grasped in Imagination.

And thus, ladies and gentlemen, I have led you, or at least sought to lead you, to the two poles of Inspiration and Imagination, which we shall consider more closely in the next few days in the light of spiritual science. I had to lead you to the portal, as it were, beforehand, in order to show that the existence of this portal is well founded in the normal scientific sense. For it is only upon such a foundation that we later can build the edifice of spiritual science itself, which we enter through that portal. To be sure, in traversing the long path, in employing the extremely demanding epistemological method I described to you today—which many may feel is difficult to understand—one must have the courage to come to grips not only with Hegel but also with “anti-Hegel.” One must not only pursue the Hegelianism that I sought to depict in my Riddles of Philosophy;⁵ one must also learn to give Stirner his due, for in Stirner's philosophy there lies something that rises out of consciousness to reveal itself as the ego. And if one simply gives rein to this ego that comes forth out of instinctive experiences, if one does not permeate it with that which manifests itself as moral imagination and Imagination, this ego becomes antisocial. As we have seen, Philosophy of Freedom attempts to replace Stirner's egoism with something truly social. One must have the courage to pass through the instinctive ego Stirner describes in order to reach Imagination, and one must also have the courage to confront face-to-face the psychology of association that Mill, Spencer, and other like-minded proponents have sought to promulgate, a psychology that seeks to comprehend consciousness in a bare concept but cannot. One must have the courage to realize and admit to oneself that today we must follow another path entirely. The ancient Oriental could follow a path no longer accessible to us, in that he formulated his experiences of an inner mathematics in the Vedanta. This path is no longer accessible to the West. Humanity is in a process of constant evolution. It has progressed. Another path, another method, must be sought. This new method is now in its infancy, and its immaturity is best revealed when one realizes that this psychology of association, which seeks to collate inner representations according to laws in the same way one collates the data of natural phenomena, is nothing but the inertia of thinking that wants to break through a boundary but actually enters a void. To understand this one must come to know this psychology of association for what it really is and then learn to lead it over through an inner contemplative viewing [Schauung] into the realm of Imagination. Just as the Orient once saw the Vedanta arise within an element of primal mathematical thought and was able to enter thus into the spirituality of the external world, so we must seek the spirit in the way in which it tasks us today: we must look within and have the courage to proceed from mere concepts and ideas to Imaginations, to develop this pictorial consciousness within and thereby to discover the spirituality within ourselves. Then we shall be able to bear this spirituality back out into the external world. We shall have attained a spirituality grasped by the inner being of man, a spirituality that thus can bear fruit within the social life. The quality of our social life shall depend entirely on our nurturing a mode of cognition such as this, which can at the same time embrace the social. That this is the case I hope to show in the lectures yet to follow.

• 4. Grundlinien einer Erkenntnistheorie der Goetheschen Weltanschauung, Berlin and Stuttgart, 1886 (A Theory of Knowledge Implicit in Goethes World Conception, Anthroposophic Press, Spring Valley, N.Y.,1968).
• 5. Die Rätsel der Philosophie in ihrer Geschichte als Umriss dargestellt, Berlin, 1914 (Riddles of Philosophy, Anthroposophie Press, Spring Valley, N.Y, 1973).

Today it will be necessary to come to terms with a number of things that actually can be understood only if one is able to overcome certain prejudices that have long been cultivated and zealously inculcated right up to the present day. Much of what shall be said here today, and further substantiated tomorrow, must be comprehended through raising oneself up to an inner viewing [Anschauung] of the spirit. You must consider that when the results of a scientific investigation of the spirit are met with a demand for proof such as is recognized by contemporary science or jurisprudence, or even contemporary social science—which is so useless in the face of life itself—one does not get very far at all. For the true spiritual scientist must already bear this method of demonstration within himself. He must have schooled himself in the rigorous methods of contemporary science, even of the mathematical sciences. He must know what mode of demonstration is demanded in these circles, and he must suffuse the processes of his whole inner life with this method: therein he builds the foundation for a higher mode of cognition. For this reason it is usually the case that when the demands of normal consciousness are placed before the spiritual scientist, he is thoroughly at home in the field from which the question stems. He has long since anticipated the objections that can be raised. One could even go so far as to say that he is only a spiritual scientist in the true sense of the word—in the sense in which we characterized spiritual science yesterday—to the extent that he has subjected himself to the rigorous discipline of the modern scientific method and knows at least the tenor of modern scientific thought quite well. I must make this one preliminary remark and add one other. If one cannot transcend the manner of demonstration that experimentation has made scientific habit, one shall never attain knowledge that can benefit society. For in a scientific experiment one proceeds—even if one cherishes the illusion that it is otherwise—in such a way that one moves in a certain direction and allows phenomena to confirm what lives within the ideas one has formulated as a natural law, or perhaps mathematically.

Now, when one is required to translate one's knowledge into social judgments, in other words, if the ideas that one has formulated as the natural laws of contemporary anthropology or biology or Darwinism—no matter how “progressive” this Darwinism might be—are to have validity; if one wants to translate them into a social science that can become truly practical, this knowledge obtained through experimentation is totally inadequate. lt is totally inadequate because one cannot simply sit in a laboratory and wait to see what one's ideas call forth when they are applied to society. Thereby thousands upon thousands of people could easily die or starve or be made to suffer in some other way. A great part of the misery in our society has been called forth in just this way. Because they have originated in pure experimentation, our ideas have gradually become too narrow and impoverished to subsist in reality, which they must be able to do if thought is ever to enrich the sphere of practical life. I have already indicated the stance the spiritual scientist must take regarding the two boundaries that arise within cognition—the boundaries at the poles of matter and consciousness—if he is to attain knowledge that can reflect light back into nature and at the same time forward into the social future. I have shown that at the boundary of the material world one must not allow one's thinking to roll on with its own inertia in order to construct mechanistic, atomistic, or molecular world conceptions tending toward the metaphysical but call a halt at the boundary and develop instead something that normally is not yet present as a faculty of cognition. One must develop Inspiration. On the other hand, I have shown you that if one wishes to come to an understanding of consciousness, one must not attempt, as Anglo-American associative psychology does, to penetrate into consciousness with ideas and concepts called forth by the natural world. It must be entirely clear in one's mind that consciousness is constituted such that these ideas culled from the external world can gain no access. We must abandon such ideas and seek rather to enter the realm of Imaginative cognition. In order to achieve self-knowledge we must permeate the concepts and ideas with content, so that they become images. Until the view of man which was born in the West and now has all of civilization in its grasp is transformed into Imaginative cognition, we shall never progress in coming to terms with this second boundary presenting itself to normal human cognition.

At the same time, however, one can say that humanity has evolved from certain stages, now become historical, to the point that requires that it progress to Inspiration on the one hand and Imagination on the other. Whoever is able to perceive what humanity is undergoing at the present, what is just beginning to reveal its first symptoms, knows that forces are rising out of the depths of human evolution that tend toward the proper introduction of Imagination and Inspiration into human evolution.

Inspiration cannot be attained except by exercising a certain faculty of mental representation in the way that I described in my book, Knowledge of the Higher Worlds and Its Attainment, and shall describe at least in outline in the coming lectures. When one has progressed far enough in a kind of inner self-cultivation, a schooling of the self in a certain form of mental representation [Vorstellen]; when one schools oneself to live within the realm of representations, ideals, and concepts that live within the mind—then one learns what it means to live in Inspiration. For when one exercises consciously the faculty that otherwise “mathematicizes” within us during the first seven years up to the change of teeth (in normal life and in conventional science this occurs unconsciously), when one enters into this “living mathematics,” into this “living mechanics,” it is as though one were to fall asleep, entering not into unconsciousness or nebulous dreams but into a new form of consciousness that I shall begin to describe to you today. One takes up into full consciousness what otherwise works within as the sense of balance, the sense of movement, and the sense of life. It is as though one were to wrest from oneself what otherwise lives within as sensations of balance, movement, and life so that one lives within them with the extended mathematical representations. Tomorrow I shall speak about this at greater length. One passes over into another consciousness, within which one experiences something like a toneless weaving in a cosmic music. I cannot describe it otherwise. One unites with this weaving in a toneless music in a way similar to that by which one makes the physical body one's own through the activity of the ego in childhood. This weaving in a toneless music provides the other, rigorously demonstrable awareness that one is now outside the body with one's soul-spirit. One begins to comprehend that even in normal sleep one's soul-spirit is outside the body. Yet the experience of sleep is not permeated with that which vibrates when leaving the body consciously through one's own initiative, and one experiences initially something like an inner unrest, an inner unrest that exhibits a musical quality when one enters into it with full consciousness. This unrest is gradually elucidated when the musical element one experiences there becomes a kind of wordless revelation of speech from the spiritual cosmos. These matters naturally appear grotesque and paradoxical to these who hear them for the first time. Yet much has arisen in the course of cosmic evolution that first appeared paradoxical and grotesque, and human evolution will not advance if one wishes to pass over these phenomena only half-consciously or unconsciously. Initially one has only a certain experience, an experience of a kind of toneless music. Then out of this experience of toneless music there arises something which, when experienced, enables us to comprehend inwardly a content as meaningful as that which is conveyed to us when we listen outwardly to a man who speaks to us via sensible words. The spiritual world simply begins to speak, and one has only to begin to acquire an experience of this.

Then one comes to experience something at a higher level. One no longer only weaves and lives in a toneless music and no longer merely perceives the speech of the super-sensible spiritual world: one begins to recognize the contours of something that reveals itself within this super-sensible world, the contours of beings. Within this universal spiritual speech that one initially encounters there emerge individual spiritual beings, in the same way that we, listening at a lower level to the speech of another man, crystallize or organize—if I may use such trivial expressions—what reveals itself as his soul and spirit into something substantial. We begin to live within the contemplation and knowledge of a spiritual reality. This realm of the spirit replaces the vacuous, insubstantial, metaphysical world of atoms and molecules: it confronts us as the reality that lies behind the phenomena of the sense world. We no longer stand in the same relation to the boundary of the material world as when we allow conceptualizing to roll on with its own inertia, attempting to carry the kind of thinking developed through interaction with the sense world beyond the boundary. Now we stand in a relationship to this boundary of sense such that the spiritual content of the world suddenly stands revealed there. This is one boundary to cognition.

Ladies and gentlemen, humanity at this point in its evolution is yearning to step out of itself, to step out of the body in this way, and one can see this tendency exemplified quite clearly in certain individuals. Human beings seek to withdraw from their bodies that which the spiritual scientist withdraws with full consciousness. The spiritual scientist withdraws this in a way analogous to the way in which he applies inwardly obtained concepts in a systematic, organized fashion to the natural world. As some of you will know, for some time now a great deal of attention has been paid to a remarkable illness. Psychologists and psychiatrists term this “pathological questioning or doubt” [Grübelsucht; Zweifelsucht]; it would perhaps better be termed “pathological skepticism.” One now encounters innumerable instances of this illness in the most remarkable forms, and it is already necessary that the study of this disease in particular be promoted within the cultural context of our time. This illness manifests itself—you can learn a great deal about it from the psychiatric literature—in these people, from a certain age onward, usually from puberty or the period immediately preceding puberty, no longer being able to relate properly to the external world. When confronted with their experiences in the external world, these people are overcome by an infinite number of questions. There are certain individuals who, though they remain otherwise fully rational, can pursue their duties to a great extent and are fully cognizant of their condition, must begin to pose the most extraordinary questions if they are but slightly withdrawn from what normally binds them to the external world. These questions simply intrude into their life and cannot be brushed aside. They intrude themselves especially strongly in individuals with healthy, or even conspicuously healthy, organizations—in individuals who have an open mind and a certain understanding for the manner in which modern scientific thinking proceeds. They experience modern science in this way, so that they cannot understand at all how such questions arise unconsciously thereby. Such phenomena are evident especially in women, who have less robust natures than men and who also tend to acquire their knowledge of natural science, if they undertake to do so, not so much through the highly disciplined scientific literature but rather through works intended for laymen and dilettanti. For if at this time immediately before puberty, or just when puberty is on the wane, there should occur an intense preoccupation with modern scientific thought in the way I have just described, among such people a high incidence of this disease can be observed. It manifests itself in these people having then to ask: where ever does the sun come from? And no matter how clever the answers one gives them, one question always calls forth another. Where does the human heart come from? Why does it beat? Did I not forget two or three sins at confession? What happened when I took Communion? Did a few crumbs of the Host perhaps fall to the ground? Did I not try to mail a letter somewhere and miss the slot? I could produce a whole litany of such examples for you, and you would see that all this is eminently suited to keeping one uneasy.

Now, when the spiritual scientist comes to consider this matter he feels himself right at home. It is simply a manifestation of the element in which the spiritual scientist resides consciously when he achieves an experience of the toneless musical speech of spiritual beings through Inspiration. Those afflicted with pathological skepticism enter this region unconsciously. They have cultivated nothing that would enable them to comprehend the state into which they enter. The spiritual scientist knows that throughout the entire night, from falling asleep until waking, one lives in an element consisting entirely of such questions, that out of the sleeping state countless questions arise within one. The spiritual scientist knows this condition, because he can experience it consciously. Whoever approaches these matters from the standpoint of normal consciousness and seeks thus to comprehend them will perhaps make attempts at all kinds of rationalistic explanations, but he will not arrive at the truth, because he is unable to comprehend the matter through Inspirative cognition. Such a one sees that there are, for example, people who go to the theater in the evening and on leaving the theater are helpless to resist the countless questions that overcome them: what is this actress's relationship to the outer world? What was that actor doing some previous year? What are the relationships between the individual actors and actresses? How was this or that flat constructed? Which painter is responsible for each? and so on, and so on. For days on end such people are subject to the influence of this pesky questioner within. This is a pathological condition that one begins to understand only by realizing that these people enter a region the spiritual scientist experiences in Inspiration by approaching this realm differently from these afflicted with this pathological condition. Persons in this pathological state enter the same region as the spiritual scientist, but they do not take their egos with them; in a certain sense they lose their egos upon entering this realm. And it is just this ego that is the ordering faculty. It is the ego that is capable of bringing the same kind of order into this world as we are able to bring to our physical environment. The spiritual scientist knows that one lives in this same region between falling asleep and waking. Everyone who returns from the theater actually is deluged by all these questions in the night while he sleeps, but due to the operation of certain laws sleep normally spreads itself out over this interlocutor, so that one has finished with him by the time one awakes again.

In order to perform valid spiritual research, one must bear into this region unimpaired judgment, complete discretion, and the full force of the human ego. Then we do not live in this region in a kind of super-skepticism but rather with just as much self-possession and confidence as in the physical world. And actually all the meditative exercises that I have given in my book, Knowledge of the Higher Worlds and Its Attainment, are intended in large part to result in a greater ability to enter this region preserving one's ego in full consciousness and in strict inner discipline. The purpose of a large part of the spiritual scientist's initial schooling is to keep him from losing the inner support and discipline of the ego while traversing this path.

The finest example in recent times of a man who entered this region without full preparation is someone whom Dr. Husemann has characterized here in another context. The finest example is Friedrich Nietzsche. Nietzsche is, to be sure, an extraordinary personality. In a certain sense he was not an intellectual at all. He was not your conventional scholar. With the tremendous gifts of genius, however, he grew out of puberty into scientific research; with these tremendous gifts he was able to take in what the contemporary sciences can offer. That, despite having acquired this knowledge, he did not become a scholar of the conventional sort is shown quite simply by the polemics of so exemplary a modern scholar as Wilamowitz, who came out in opposition immediately after the appearance of the young Nietzsche's first publication. Nietzsche had just published his treatise, The Birth of Tragedy out of the Spirit of Music, in which there resounds a readiness to undergo initiation, to enter the musical, the Inspirative—even the title reveals his yearning for the realm that I have characterized—but he could not. The possibility did not exist. In Nietzsche's time a conscious spiritual science did not exist, but in giving his work the title, The Birth of Tragedy out of the Spirit of Music, he indicated that he wished to come to terms with a phenomenon such as Wagnerian tragedy out of this spirit of music. And he entered further and further into this realm. As I said, Wilamowitz immediately came out in Opposition and wrote his polemics against The Birth of Tragedy, in which he completely rejected from his academic point of view what Nietzsche, unschooled but yearning for knowledge, had written. From the point of view of modern science he was of course completely justified. And actually it is hard to understand how so excellent a thinker as Erwin Rohde could have believed a compromise was possible between this modern philology that Wilamowitz represented and what lived within Nietzsche as a dark striving, as a yearning for initiation, for Inspiration. What Nietzsche had acquired in this manner, had inwardly appropriated, grew out into the other fields of contemporary sciences. It grew into positivism, namely that of the Frenchman, Comte, and the German, Dühring. While cataloguing Nietzsche's library in the 1890s I saw with my own eyes all the marks Nietzsche had so conscientiously made in the margins of Dühring's works, from which he acquired his knowledge of positivism; I held all these books in my own hand. I could enter sympathetically right into the manner in which Nietzsche took positivism up into himself. I could well imagine how he then reverted to an extra-corporeal existence, where he experienced this positivism again without having penetrated into this region sufficiently with his ego. As a result, he produced works such as Human, All Too Human, exhibiting a constant oscillation between an inability to move within the world of Inspiration and a desire to remain there nonetheless. One notices this in the aphoristic progression of Nietzsche's style in these works. Nietzsche strives to bring his ego into this realm, but it tears itself away again and again: thus he produces not a systematic, artistic presentation but only aphorisms. It is just this constant self-interruption in aphorism that reveals the inward soul of this remarkable spirit. And then he rises to encounter that which has provided modern science, the contemporary physical sciences, with their greatest riddles. He rises up to encounter what lives in Darwinism, what lives in the theory of evolution, and attempts to demonstrate how the most complicated organisms have gradually arisen out of the most primitive. He penetrates into this realm, a realm into which I have sought in a modest way to bring inner structure and an inward mobility—you can follow this in the discussion of Haeckel in my book, The Riddles of Philosophy. Nietzsche enters this realm, and there emerges from his soul the notion of a kind of super-evolution [Überevolutionsgedanke]. He follows the course of evolution up to man, where this notion of evolution explodes to create his “super-man.” In following this self-progression of evolving beings he loses the content, because he is unable to obtain the true content through Inspiration: he is confined to the empty idea of “eternal recurrence.”

Only by virtue of the inner integrity of his personality was Nietzsche able to avoid what the pathologist calls “pathological skepticism.” It was something within Nietzsche, a prodigious health that Nietzsche himself sensed underlying his debility, that asserted itself and kept him from falling prey to complete skepticism, leading him rather to contrive what later became the content of his most inspiring words. No wonder, then, that this excursion into the spiritual world, this striving to proceed from music to the inner word, to inner being, culminated in the most unmusical of ideas—that of “the eternal recurrence of the same”—and the empty, merely lyrical “superman.” No wonder that it had to end in the condition that his physician, for example, diagnosed as an “atypical case of paralysis.”

Yes, this man who did not know Nietzsche's inner life, who was incapable of judging it from the standpoint of spiritual science and confronted the images and ideas of Nietzsche's inner life as a mere psychiatrist, without sympathetic understanding—this man found only an abstraction to answer the question posed by the concrete case before him. With regard to all nature du Bois-Reymond had said in 1872: ignorabimus. Confronted with exceptional cases, the psychiatrist says: paralysis, atypical paralysis. Confronted with concrete cases that reveal the essence of present human evolution, the psychiatrist can say only ignorabimus, or ignoramus. This is but a translation of what is clothed in the words “atypical case of paralysis.”

This eventually destroyed Nietzsche's body. It produced the condition that makes Nietzsche such a revealing phenomenon within our contemporary cultural life. This is the other form of the debility appearing in certain highly cultivated individuals, which psychiatrists term pathological doubt or hyper-skepticism. And the phenomenon of Nietzsche—here I must be allowed a personal remark—stood before my eyes the moment that, trembling, I entered his room in Naumburg a few years after his illness. He lay upon the sofa after dinner, staring into space. He recognized nobody around him and stared at one like a complete idiot, but the light of his former genius still gleamed within his eyes.

If one looked at Nietzsche knowing all one could about his world view, about the ideas and images that lived within his soul; if, unlike the mere psychiatrist, one stood before Nietzsche, this ruin of a man, this physical wreck, with this image in one's soul, then one knew: this man strove to view the world revealed by Inspiration. Nothing of this world came forth to him. And the part of him that desired to achieve Inspiration finally extinguished itself: for years the physical organism was filled by a soul-spirit devoid of content.

From such a sight one can learn the whole tragedy of our modern culture, its striving for the spiritual world, its inclination toward that which can proceed from Inspiration. For me—and I do not hesitate in the slightest to introduce a personal remark here—this was one of those moments that can be interpreted in a Goethean manner. Goethe says that nature conceals no secret that she is not willing to reveal in one place or another. No, the entire world contains not a single secret that is not revealed in one place or another. The present stage of human evolution conceals the secret that humanity is giving birth to a striving, an inclination, an impulse that rumbles within the social upheavals our civilization is undergoing—an impulse that seeks to view the spiritual world of Inspiration. And Nietzsche was the one point where nature revealed its open secret, where the striving that exists within humanity as a whole could reveal itself. We must seek this if all those striving for education, seeking within modern science—and this shall be the entire civilized world, for education must become universal—if humanity as a whole is not to lose its ego and civilization fall into barbarism.

That is one great cultural anxiety, one great threat to civilization, which must be faced by anyone who follows the contemporary progress of human evolution and seeks to develop a thinking that can grasp the realities of social life. Similar phenomena assert themselves on the other side as well, on the side of consciousness. And we shall have to study these phenomena on the side of consciousness at least in outline as well. We shall see how these other phenomena arise out of the chaos of contemporary life, phenomena that appear pathologically and have been described by Westphal, Falret, and others. It is no accident that these have been described only just in the most recent decades. On the other side, that of the boundary of consciousness, we encounter the phenomena of claustrophobia, astraphobia, and agoraphobia,⁶ just as we encounter pathological skepticism on the side of matter. And in the same way (we shall discuss this further) in which pathological skepticism must be cured culturally-historically through the cultivation of Inspiration—one of the great talks of contemporary social ethics—we are threatened with the emergence of the phenomena that I shall describe tomorrow: claustrophobia, astraphobia, and agoraphobia. These emerge pathologically and can be overcome through Imagination, which, when civilization has acquired it, shall become a social blessing for all humanity.

• 6. “Astraphobia” = morbid dread of storms; “agoraphobia” = morbid dread of crossing, or being in, open spaces.

I would like to conclude the lectures on the fourth spatial dimension today if possible, although I would like to demonstrate a complicated system in more detail today. I would have to show you many more models after Hinton; therefore, I can only refer you to the three detailed and spirited books.” Those who do not have the will to form a picture through analogies in the way we have heard it in the past lectures cannot, of course, form a picture of four-dimensional space. It involves a new way of forming thoughts.

I will try to give you a true representation [parallel projection] of the tessaract. You know that in two-dimensional space we had the square, which is bounded by four sides. This is the three-dimensional cube, which is bounded by six squares (Figure 42).

In four-dimensional space, we have the tessaract. A tessaract is bounded by eight cubes. The projection of a tessaract [in three-dimensional space] therefore consists of eight interlocking cubes. We have seen how the [corresponding eight] cubes can be intertwined in three-dimensional space. Today I will show you a [different] way of projecting the tessaract.

You can imagine that the cube, when held up to the light, throws a shadow on the blackboard. We can mark this shadow figure with chalk (Figure 43). You see that a hexagon is obtained. Now imagine this cube transparent, and you will observe that in the hexagonal figure the three front sides of the cube and the three rear sides of the cube fall into the same plane.

In order to get a projection that we can apply to the tessaract, I would ask you to imagine that the cube is standing in front of you in such a way that the front point A covers the rear point C. If you imagine the third dimension, all this would give you a hexagonal shadow again. I will draw the figure for you (Figure 44).

If you imagine the cube like this, you would see the three front surfaces here; the other surfaces would be behind them. The surfaces of the cube appear foreshortened and the angles are no longer right angles. This is how you see the cube depicted so that the surfaces form a regular hexagon. Thus, we have obtained a representation of a three-dimensional cube in two-dimensional space. Since the edges are shortened and the angles are changed by the projection, we must therefore imagine the [projection of the] six boundary squares of the cube as shifted squares, as rhombi.

The same story that I did with a three-dimensional cube that I projected into the plane, we want to do this procedure with a four-dimensional spatial object, which we therefore have to place in three-dimensional space. We must therefore bring the structure composed of eight cubes, the tessaract, into the third dimension [by parallel projection]. With the cube, we obtained three visible and three invisible edges, all of which enter into the space and in reality do not lie within the [projection] surface. Now imagine a cube shifted in such a way that it becomes a rhombicuboctahedron.” Take eight of these figures, and you have the possibility of combining the eight [boundary] cubes of the tessaract in such a way that, when pushed together, they form the eight (doubly covered) rhombicuboctahedra of this spatial figure (Figure 45).

Now you have one more axis here [than in the three-dimensional cube]. Accordingly, a four-dimensional spatial structure naturally has four axes. So if we push it together, four axes still remain. There are eight [pushed together] cubes in this projection, which are represented as rhombicuboctahedra. The rhombicuboctahedron is a [symmetrical] image or silhouette of the tessaract in three-dimensional space.

We arrived at this relationship by means of an analogy, but it is completely correct: just as we obtained a projection of the cube onto a plane, it is also possible to represent the tessaract in three-dimensional space by means of a projection. It behaves in the same way as the silhouette of the cube in relation to the cube itself. I think that is quite easy to understand.

Now I would like to tie in with the greatest image that has ever been given for this, namely Plato and Schopenhauer and the parable of the cave.

Plato says: Imagine people sitting in a cave, and they are all tied up so that they cannot turn their heads and can only look at the opposite wall. Behind them are people carrying various objects past them. These people and these objects are three-dimensional. So all these [bound] people stare at the wall and see only what is cast as a shadow [of the objects] on the wall. So they would see everything in the room only as a shadow on the opposite wall as two-dimensional images.

Plato says that this is how it is in the world in general. In truth, people are sitting in the cave. Now, people themselves and everything else are four-dimensional; but what people see of it are only images in three-dimensional space.

This is how all the things we see present themselves. According to Plato, we are dependent on seeing not the real things, but the three-dimensional silhouettes. I only see my hand as a silhouette; in reality it is four-dimensional, and everything that people see of it is just as much an image of it as what I just showed you as an image of the Tessaract. Thus Plato was already trying to make clear that the objects we know are actually four-dimensional, and that we only see silhouettes of them in three-dimensional space. And that is not entirely arbitrary. I will give you the reasons for this in a moment.

Of course, anyone can say from the outset that this is mere speculation. How can we even imagine that the things that appear on the wall have a reality? Imagine that you are sitting here in a row, and you are sitting very still. Now imagine that the things on the wall suddenly start to move. You will not be able to tell yourself that the images on the wall can move without going out of the second dimension. If something moves there, it indicates that something must have happened outside the wall, on the real object, for it to move at all. That's what you tell yourself. If you imagine that the objects in three-dimensional space can pass each other, this would not be possible with their two-dimensional silhouettes, if you think of them as substantial, that is, impenetrable. If those images, conceived substantially, wanted to move past each other, they would have to go out of the second dimension.

As long as everything on the wall is at rest, I have no reason to conclude that something is happening outside the wall, outside the space of the two-dimensional silhouettes. But the moment history begins to move, I must investigate the source of the motion. And you realize that the change can only come from motion outside the wall, only from motion within a third dimension. The change has thus told us that there is a third dimension in addition to the second.

What is a mere image also has a certain reality, possesses very definite properties, but differs essentially from the real object. You will not be able to deny that the mirror image is also a mere image. You see yourself in the mirror, and you are also there. If there is not a third [that is, an active being] there, then you could not actually know what you are. But the mirror image makes the same movements that the original makes; the image is dependent on the real object, the being; it itself has no ability [to move]. Thus, a distinction can be made between image and being in that only a being can bring about movement and change out of itself. I realize from the shadows on the wall that they cannot move themselves, so they cannot be beings. I have to go out of them if I want to get to the beings.

Now apply this to the world in general. The world is three-dimensional. Take this three-dimensional world for itself, as it is; grasp it completely in your thoughts [for yourself], and you will find that it remains rigid. It remains three-dimensional even if you suddenly think the world frozen at a certain point in time. But there is no one and the same world in two points in time. The world is completely different at successive points in time. Imagine that these points in time cease to exist, so that what is there remains. Without time, no change would occur in the world. The world would remain three-dimensional even if it underwent no change at all. The pictures on the wall also remain two-dimensional. But change suggests a third dimension. The fact that the world is constantly changing, and that it remains three-dimensional even without change, suggests that we have to look for the change in a fourth dimension. We have to look for the reason, the cause of the change, the activity outside the third dimension, and with that you have initially uncovered the fourth of the dimensions. But with that you also have the justification for Plato's image. So we understand the whole three-dimensional world as the shadow projection of a four-dimensional world. The only question is how we have to take this fourth dimension [in reality].

You see, we have the one idea to make it clear to ourselves, of course, that it is impossible for the fourth dimension to fall [directly] into the third. That is not possible. The fourth dimension cannot fall into the third. I would like to show you now how one can, so to speak, get an idea of how to go beyond the third dimension. Imagine we have a circle – I have already tried to evoke a similar idea recently – if you imagine this circle getting bigger and bigger, then a piece of this circle becomes flatter and flatter, and because the diameter of the circle becomes very large at the end, the circle finally turns into a straight line. The line has one dimension, but the circle has two dimensions. How do you get a second dimension from a single dimension? By curving a straight line, you get a circle again.

If you now imagine the surface of the circle curving into space, you first get a shell, and if you continue to do this, you get a sphere. Thus a line acquires a second dimension by curvature and a surface acquires a third dimension by curvature. If you could now curve a cube, it would have to be curved into the fourth dimension, and you would have the [spherical] tessaract.

You can understand the sphere as a curved two-dimensional spatial structure. The sphere that occurs in nature is the cell, the smallest living thing. The cell is limited spherically. That is the difference between the living and the lifeless. The mineral always occurs as a crystal bounded by flat surfaces; life is bounded by spherical surfaces, built up of cells. That means that just as a crystal is built from spheres that have been straightened out, that is, from planes, so life is built from cells, that is, from spheres that have been bent together. The difference between the living and the dead lies in the way they are defined. The octahedron is defined by eight triangles. If we imagine the eight sides as spheres, we would get an eight-limbed living thing.

If you curve the three-dimensional structure, the cube, again, you get a four-dimensional structure, the spherical tessaract. But if you curve the whole space, you get something that relates to three-dimensional space in the same way that a sphere relates to a plane.

Just as the cube, as a three-dimensional structure, is bounded by planes, so every crystal is bounded by planes. The essence of a crystal is the assembly of [flat] boundary planes. The essence of the living is the assembly of curved surfaces, of cells. The assembly of something even higher would be a structure whose individual boundaries would be four-dimensional. A three-dimensional structure is bounded by two-dimensional structures. A four-dimensional being, that is, a living being, is bounded by three-dimensional beings, by spheres and cells. A five-dimensional being is itself bounded by four-dimensional beings, by spherical tessaracts. From this you can see that we have to ascend from three-dimensional to four-dimensional, and then to five-dimensional beings.

We only have to ask ourselves: What must occur in a being that is four-dimensional?* A change must occur within the third dimension. In other words: If you hang pictures on the wall here, they are two-dimensional and generally remain static. But if you have pictures in which the second dimension moves and changes, then you must conclude that the cause of this movement can only lie outside the surface of the wall, that the third dimension of space thus indicates the change. If you find changes within the third spatial dimension itself, then you must conclude that a fourth dimension is involved, and this brings us to the beings that undergo a change within their three spatial dimensions.

It is not true that we have fully recognized a plant if we have only recognized it in its three dimensions. A plant is constantly changing, and this change is an essential, a higher characteristic of it. The cube remains; it only changes its shape when you smash it. A plant changes its shape itself, that is, there is something that is the cause of this change and that lies outside the third dimension and is an expression of the fourth dimension. What is that?

You see, if you have this cube and draw it, you would labor in vain if you wanted to draw it differently at different moments; it will always remain the same. If you draw the plant and compare the picture with your model after three weeks, it will have changed. So this analogy is completely accurate. Everything that lives points to something higher, where it has its true essence, and the expression of this higher is time. Time is the symptomatic expression, the appearance of liveliness [understood as the fourth dimension] in the three dimensions of physical space. In other words, all beings for whom time has an inner meaning are images of four-dimensional beings. This cube is still the same after three or six years. The lily bud changes. Because for it, time has a real meaning. Therefore, what we see in the lily is only the three-dimensional image of the four-dimensional lily being. So time is an image, a projection of the fourth dimension, the organic liveliness, into the three spatial dimensions of the physical world.

To understand how a following dimension relates to the preceding one, please imagine the following: a cube has three dimensions; when you visualize the third, you have to remember that it is perpendicular to the second, and the second is perpendicular to the first. The three dimensions are characterized by the fact that they are perpendicular to one another. But we can also imagine how the third dimension arises from the following [fourth dimension]. Imagine that you would change the cube by coloring the boundary surfaces and then changing these colors [in a certain way, as in Hinton's example]. Such a change can indeed be made, and it corresponds exactly to the change that a three-dimensional being undergoes when it passes into the fourth dimension, when it develops through time. If you cut a four-dimensional being at any point, you take away the fourth dimension, you destroy it. If you do that to a plant, you do exactly the same thing as if you were to make a cast of the plant, a plaster cast. You have captured that by destroying the fourth dimension, time. Then you get a three-dimensional object. If for any three-dimensional being the fourth dimension, time, has an essential significance, then it is a living being.

Now we enter the fifth dimension. You can say to yourself that you must again have a boundary that is perpendicular to the fourth dimension. We have seen that the fourth dimension is related to the third dimension in a similar way to the third dimension being related to the second. It is not immediately possible to visualize the fifth dimension in this way. But you can again create a rough idea by using an analogy. How does a dimension come into being in the first place? If you simply draw a line, you will never create another dimension by simply pushing the line in one direction. Only by imagining that you have two opposing directions of force, which then accumulate at a point, only by expressing the accumulation, do you have a new dimension. We must therefore be able to grasp the new dimension as a new line of accumulation [of two currents of force], and imagine the one dimension coming from the right one time and from the left the next, as positive and negative. So I understand a dimension [as a polar [stream of forces] within itself], so that it has a positive and a negative dimension [component], and the neutralization [of these polar force components] is the new dimension.

From there, we want to create an idea of the fifth dimension. We will have to imagine that the fourth dimension, which we have found expressed as time, behaves in a positive and negative way. Now take two beings for whom time has a meaning, and imagine two such beings colliding with each other. Then something must appear as a result, similar to what we have previously called an accumulation of [opposing] forces; and what arises as a result when two four-dimensional beings come into relation with each other is their fifth dimension. This fifth dimension arises as a result, as a consequence of an exchange [a neutralization of polar force effects], in that two living beings, through their mutual interaction, produce something that they do not have outside [in the three ordinary spatial dimensions together], nor do they have in [the fourth dimension,] time, but have completely outside these [previously discussed dimensions or] boundaries. This is what we call compassion [or feeling], by which one being knows another, thus the realization of the [spiritual and mental] inner being of another being. A being could never know anything about another being outside of time [and space] if you did not add a higher, fifth dimension, [i.e. enter the world of] sensation. Of course, here the sensation is only to be understood as a projection, as an expression [of the fifth dimension] in the physical world.

Developing the sixth dimension in the same way would be too difficult, so I will only indicate it. [If we tried to progress in this way, something could be developed as an expression of the sixth dimension that,] when placed in the three-dimensional physical world, is self-conscious.

Man, as a three-dimensional being, is one who shares his imagery with other three-dimensional beings. The plant, in addition, has the fourth dimension. For this reason, you will never find the ultimate essence of the plant within the three dimensions of space, but you would have to ascend from the plant to a fourth spatial dimension [to the astral sphere]. But if you wanted to grasp a being that has feeling, you would have to ascend to the fifth dimension [to the lower Devachan, to the Rupa sphere]; and if you wanted to grasp a being that has self-awareness, a human being, you would have to ascend to the sixth dimension [to the upper Devachan, to the Arupa sphere]. Thus, the human being as he stands before us in the present is indeed a six-dimensional being. That which is called feeling or compassion, or self-awareness, is a projection of the fifth or sixth dimension into ordinary three-dimensional space. Man extends into these spiritual spheres, albeit unconsciously for the most part; only there can he actually be experienced in the sense indicated last. This six-dimensional being can only come to an idea of even the higher worlds if it tries to get rid of the actual characteristics of the lower dimensions.

I can only hint at the reason why man considers the world to be only three-dimensional, namely because he is conditioned in his perception to see only a reflection of something higher in the world. When you look in a mirror, you also see only a reflection of yourself. Thus, the three dimensions of our physical space are indeed reflections, material copies of three higher, causally creative dimensions. Our material world therefore has its polar [spiritual] counter-image in the group of the three next higher dimensions, that is, in those of the fourth, fifth and sixth dimensions. And in a similar sense, the spiritual worlds that lie beyond this group of dimensions, which can only be sensed, are also polar to those of the fourth to sixth dimensions.

If you have water and you let the water freeze, the same substance is present in both cases; but in form they differ quite substantially. You can imagine a similar process for the three higher dimensions of man. If you think of man as a purely spiritual being, then you have to think of him as having only the three higher dimensions – self-awareness, feeling and time – and these three dimensions are reflected in the physical world in its three ordinary dimensions.

The yogi [secret student], if he wants to advance to a knowledge of the higher worlds, must gradually replace the mirror images with reality. For example, when he looks at a plant, he must get used to gradually substituting the higher dimensions for the lower ones. If he looks at a plant and is able to abstract from one spatial dimension in the case of a plant, to abstract from one spatial dimension and instead to imagine a corresponding one of the higher dimensions, in this case time, then he actually gets an idea of what a two-dimensional, moving being is. To make this being more than just an image, to make it correspond to reality, the yogi must do the following. If he disregards the third dimension and adds the fourth, he would only get something imaginary. However, the following mental image can help: when we make a cinematographic representation of a living being, we remove the third dimension from the original three-dimensional processes, but add the [dimension of] time through the sequence of images. If we then add sensation to this [moving] perception, we perform a procedure similar to what I described earlier as the bending of a three-dimensional structure into the fourth dimension. Through this process you then get a four-dimensional entity, but now one that has two of our spatial dimensions, but also two higher ones, namely time and sensation. Such beings do indeed exist, and these beings - and this brings me to a real conclusion to the whole consideration - I would like to tell you about.

Imagine two spatial dimensions, that is, a surface, and this surface endowed with motion. Now imagine a bent as a sensation, a sentient being that then pushes a two-dimensional surface in front of it. Such a being must act differently and be very different from a three-dimensional being in our space. This flat creature that we have constructed in this way is incomplete in one direction, completely open, and offers you a two-dimensional view; you cannot go around it, it comes towards you. This is a luminous creature, and the luminous creature is nothing other than the incompleteness in one direction.

Through such a being, the initiates then get to know other beings, which they describe as divine messengers approaching them in flames of fire. The description of Mount Sinai, where Moses received the Ten Commandments,® means nothing other than that a being could indeed approach him that, to his perception, had these dimensions. It appeared to him like a human being from whom the third spatial dimension had been removed; it appeared in sensation and in time.

These abstract images in the religious documents are not just external symbols, but powerful realities that man can get to know if he is able to appropriate what we have tried to make clear through analogies. The more you devote yourself diligently and energetically to such considerations of analogies, the more you really work on your mind, and the more these [considerations] work in us and trigger higher abilities. [This is roughly the case when dealing with] the analogy of the relationship of the cube to the hexagon and the tessaract to the rhombic dodecahedron. The latter represents a projection of the tessaract into the three-dimensional physical world. If you visualize these figures as living entities, if you allow the cube to grow out of the projection of the die – the hexagon – and likewise allow the tessaract itself to arise from the projection of the tessaract [the rhombic dodecahedron], then you create the possibility and the ability in your lower mental body to grasp what I have just described to you as a structure. And if, in other words, you have not only followed me but have gone through this procedure vividly, as the yogi does in an awakened state of consciousness, then you will notice that something will occur to you in your dreams that in reality is a four-dimensional entity, and then it is not much further to bring it over into the waking consciousness, and you can then see the fourth dimension in every four-dimensional being.

The astral sphere is the fourth dimension. Devachan to rupa is the fifth dimension. Devachan to arupa is the sixth dimension.

These three worlds, the physical, astral and celestial [devachan], comprise six dimensions. The even higher worlds are completely polar to these.

Mineral Plant Animal Human Arupa Self-consciousness Rupa Sensation Self-consciousness Astral plane Life Sensation Self-consciousness Physical form Life Sensation Self-plan consciousness Form Life Sensation Form Life Form

Let's imagine that we are in the world into which the Apocalypticer wants to translate men during the next earthly period. He describes his visions of the breaking in of spiritual worlds and of how they will take possession of earthly human beings. He precedes this by three stages which we must become familiar with; three stages,—in a certain sense each of these represents something which must fall before mankind will become worthy and capable of obtaining the spiritual world in a pure form for their working, thinking and feeling.

The first stage is the fall of Babylon; we will call it this to begin with. The second stage is the fall of the beast and his companion the false prophet who spreads the teaching of the beast. The third stage is the fall of the divine counter powers which are usually called Satan. These three stages become quite objective and real in connection with the spiritual perception of future human evolution.

A great deal concerning human evolution will be decided in our century, and one has good reason to direct the eye of one's soul upon these three falls'. For they will break in upon us in a certain form; they will occur after the first appearance of Christ on earth in his etheric body, which is really his second appearance upon earth. And mankind will have to prepare itself and make itself strong enough in order to go through this threefold fall of the adversaries of the Christ impulse without endangering their soul development. We shouldn't forget how precise the Apocalypticer really is, for each time such a fall occurs he lets an angel come down from the spiritual worlds, and we notice something which can give someone who hasn't acquired a spiritual conception of the world a rather strange feeling. He lets the angel who comes down rejoice about the great suffering and terrible things which accompany this terrible fall, and it will be necessary for us to understand this rejoicing. But before we do that let's take a look at the three stages of the fall of the powers who oppose the Christ.

First comes what is called the fall of Babylon. Here we can place the sum of all the errors which men and mankind can fall into through their human nature before our souls. Everything which tends to drag human beings down below the spiritual level at which they really belong is included in what the Apocalypticer calls the Babylonian temptation.

Man is really only a human being—although of course he has to acquire this humanness first, and he can't just have it at every moment in his evolution—man is only truly human if there is a complete harmony between the material and spiritual principles in him, that is, if the material doesn't play up into emotions which are not controlled by the spiritual. This is the important thing and we must understand it quite well, for even the Apocalypticer could not speak the way he does if he assumed that passions, desires and everything which comes from the will sphere was quite unjustified right from the beginning. To say that this is unjustified—this ascetic striving in a false sense—also arises from the sphere of passions and desires, for someone who doesn't feel strong enough to permeate his passions from the spiritual side in such a way, that he places them in the service of good world evolution is indulgencing his weak emotions. He wants the good evolution, but he wants to impoverish it in this way and he wants to indulge his weakness. For the Apocalypticer it's not a question of tearing out emotions or of tearing out passions and desires, it's a question of their not remaining uncontrolled by the spiritual world.

Babylon is the city in which a falling away from spirituality through passions held sway in an almost stereotyped way at a certain period in its mystery development, and everything which represents emotions in human life, which remain out of control on a smaller or larger scale is summarized by this city. Here we should translate the strong, coarse expressions which were used at that time (they weren't coarse then) into our language. The people in ancient times didn't form abstract concepts, they always referred to concrete things, always pointed to something characteristic and looked at concrete things. And so the Apocalypticer speaks of Babylon. Why of Babylon?

Really deep mysteries existed in Babylon or in the mystery centers of Babylon in which one could be initiated into the secrets of the super-earthly cosmos, far out into star worlds, and in which one could learn about starry secrets concerning the star worlds and their spiritual content. The earliest priests in ancient Babylon used human powers of clairvoyance and dreams in a way which we would call mediumistic today; this was the case in ancient Babylon. A wonderful, ancient Babylonian teaching developed in this somewhat mediumistic way. However, as one can also see today, mediums—even though they are suited for spiritual mediations, and they are often used in this way, although the process must be controlled by discerning initiates—have very questionable moral characteristics. Mediums become morally degenerate, and because there is a certain discrepancy between what they reveal and what they are, they can eventually no longer distinguish between truth and lies. Here one gets into a region where morality and immorality are no longer distinct.

You must understand how mediums get into this condition. Someone is a medium if his ego and astral body are pulled out of his physical and etheric bodies by an external force, and this was also what happened at the time of the Babylonian priests. However, another power sits in this ego and astral body as soon as they have been pulled out of the medium's physical and etheric body. Depending on whether the initiate who brings this about has good or bad intentions and belongs to the left or the right, this can be a good power or an evil one. Excellent things came to light in this way in ancient Babylonian times, but the problem was with what occurred when the medium returned to his physical body. You see, one cannot get by in the spiritual world with the logic and discrimination between lies and truth which one has in the physical world. It is a complete error to think that one can use the concepts of lies and truth which one rightly uses in the physical world, in the spiritual world. There is nothing there which one could distinguish in such a way. Some of the beings there are good and others are evil. One has to know them through themselves, and in fact, they tell one the kind of being they are. Even the evil ones are truthful in their own way. Of course this is difficult to understand, just as it is difficult to understand what happens in the spiritual world as soon as one enters it. For instance, here in the physical world we say that a straight line is the shortest path between two points. However, in the spiritual world it is the longest distance between two points and every other one is shorter. So that we cannot apply anything which we have to use in the physical world to the spiritual world.

Hence a true initiate must have the right attitude of soul for the spiritual world, but he must also feel fully responsible for the fact that the moment he returns to the physical world he has to work with physical concepts. A medium cannot do this because he doesn't leave his body consciously. When he comes back again his ego and astral body fill the physical and etheric bodies with a line of thought which is no doubt appropriate for the spiritual world, but it corrupts all moral feelings in the physical world. Hence mediums become corrupted, and the corruption with respect to truth and lies then' extends to other forms of corruption. Hence the fact is that Babylon went through this development from the greatest revelations of spiritual worlds to a terrible corruption; first with respect to the principle of spiritual revelation, and then also with respect to human life in general, so that the previous corruption in the spiritual sphere extended to the latter. This spiritual corruption is very powerful; so that someone becomes more immoral if he becomes corrupt after he has gone into spiritual realms than he did before with his ordinary human tendencies. This is why Babylon was considered to be a representative of moral corruption.

The expressions for corruption which we find here are ones which were in common use. The whole of humanity over the entire earth imitated the Babylonians and thereby became a kind of city of Babylon. And this is what the Apocalypticer means. The city of Babylon is to be found among mankind on earth; it exists wherever human beings have succumbed to the Babylonian temptation. It is this human attitude which must fall before that fin—al condition of which the Apocalypticer speaks can come. And if we investigate what is active in the Babylonian corruption, we find that the Ahrimanic principle is active in it everywhere. Ahriman is sitting in men, and he is a power who stands close to them in the whole world, as it were. He is in our emotions, which thereby degenerate. The Ahrimanic and Luciferic principles are opposite poles. The Ahrimanic element is present in what falls here, as for instance when Babylon falls, and it is opposed to the Luciferic element. What kind of an image must the Apocalypticer use when he sees this? The image of jubilating Luciferic, angelic sentiments. We must be aware of this.

It's a big mistake to look upon the worst world conceptions as the best ones, as for instance the idea about the evil principle being down below and the good principle being in everything which comes to meet it from above. This is not the actual state of affairs. The Ahrimanic principle is down below and one has the Luciferic principle above where the angels are rejoicing about the falls. The rejoicing one hears is the voice of Lucifer which accompanies the diving angels, for the actual Christ principle is the balance between the two.

One can only understand something like what the Apocalypticer is presenting if one understands this threefoldedness in the world's makeup in the right way. For anyone with ordinary human feelings it is completely incomprehensible why pure and good spirits would begin to scream for joy when the misery which is described here befalls other beings. This is of course immediately comprehensible if one sees it as the jubilant cries of those who were basically opposed to the creation of the world in which man experiences his spiritual development. They want to keep his whole evolution on a very different spiritual level. They didn't want that connection or marriage of the spirit with matter which took place in earthly existence. So that when what is grasped by Ahriman is eliminated from earthly existence, what they're really feeling in their souls is: we now have the satisfaction that one part of earth-existence will no longer be continued; it is falling during earth evolution he world view which speaks out of the images which the Apocalypticer describes for each fall is wonderfully honest in this respect.

Now the first one, the fall of Babylon, is all the errors men can fall into when they are also influenced by the initiation principle, it is human perversions. When Babylon falls the remaining human aberrations will be eliminated from further world evolution, at a point in time which we will discuss later. To begin with we will place coming events before our soul in a qualitative way.

The second thing is where man is no longer just involved by himself. The beings who fall with Babylon are men; it is human aberration. However, in the case of the fall of the beast and the false prophet who supports the teaching of the beast, what falls is something spiritual and superhuman, and not something human.

Something which is outside of the human kingdom falls, namely, the beast who breaks in upon human communities, and the one who proclaims the teaching of this beast. Hence one is dealing with something which can take possession of' human beings where something superhuman is working directly in men with an evil impulse, and it's not a matter of a weak nature working, as in the case of a medium. We can add the following to make the Imagination even clearer. All those who will participate in the fall of Babylon will have become degenerate through the fact that they tried to do things which their organization couldn't stand; their organization became weak with respect to these things, and therefore they became corrupt. In the fall of Babylon man's organization acts out of weakness. In the fall of the beast and the false prophet it's not as if a medium became corrupt because he got weak, but it's as if the spirit which overpowers the ego and astral body of the medium during hypnosis would then go into his physical and etheric body and make use of the physical body in order to wreak havoc on earth through the human being.

This is exactly the idea which we encounter here in the Apocalypticer. He wants to say that a time will come when we will see human beings walking around on earth who couldn't stand what really, lay in the Christian annunciation who took the Christ into their souls, but who didn't get to the level of the Christ with their etheric and physical bodies, and therefore became corrupt and devoted to other spirits; but they didn't devote themselves to them with full consciousness, so that they became corrupt. These are the first ones, who are included in the fall of Babylon.

The other ones walk around like men, but their fate is that their human ego is not in them, so that one can no longer speak of them as human beings, for they are possessed by the beast and the false prophet. This will come after the fall of Babylon. There will be people walking around on earth who will be demons, for Ahrimanic powers will act in them directly.

Many of the preliminary conditions for all of these things already exist today; one could say that all of this is already present in a germinal form. After all we already have the terrible case where Ahriman appeared amongst us as an author, perhaps not through a human being entirely, but at least through the temporary weakness of a human being. Nietzsche was a wonderful and brilliant writer, but the Nietzsche individuality was not in him when he wrote the AntiChrist and Ecce Homo. I know this individuality in Nietzsche, and I even described it in my autobiography; but Ahriman becomes a direct author here, and Ahriman is a much more brilliant writer than Nietzsche.

Ahrimanic powers will intervene more and more and Ahrimanic spirits will also use human bodies for other things. A time will come when Christians will have to ask themselves seriously when they meet this or that human being: Is that really a human being or is it a very loose mantle for Ahrimanic spirits? In the future one will have to make this distinction in addition to the other ones one has to make today. This will be the second fall, and the beast and his herald will take possession of human bodies. Thereby these demons will have fallen. So first we have the fall of corrupt human beings and then the fall of certain corrupt spirits, who are close to men. These spirits take a tumble in the second fall.

Then we have the third fall, which is the fall of Satan in the Apocalypse. Here we have a very high being who does a different kind of work than the one which can be done on earth. The beast and the false prophet are powers who lead mankind astray; they want to steer men in the wrong direction in a moral and intellectual respect. However, the power which is meant in the fall of Satan wants something quite different. It wants to throw the whole earth off its course, and not just mankind. Seen from a human, earthly standpoint, this power is a terrible adversary of the Godhead.

One can only ask the following in a hypothetical way, and one can't look at it from the viewpoint of human or earthly evolution, if one doesn't want to commit an intellectual or spiritual sin. If one looks at it from other viewpoints, how does this satanic power in the universe compare with other spirits?

Now Michael has a different standpoint than human beings do, and it's no wonder that his opinion about Satan is quite different from that of men. Human beings tend to be rather abstract, and they think that Satan is an evil power. But he is also a great power from the viewpoints which are important for the earth, a great power that has gone astray. And archangel Michael does not have the rank of Satan, who is at the level of a principality or an archai; Michael is only an archangel. Satan is a very terrifying power from Michael's standpoint and not a despicable one, because he thinks that this power who belongs to the Archai is higher than he is. Except that Michael holds views which are in line with earth evolution.

With respect to everything which is connected with the orbits of the planets, Michael decided a long time ago to travel in the orbits which are prescribed by the sun's existence. Satan is a power who is continually lurking around in our cosmos. There is something sinister about this lurking of Satan. One can perceive this at the moments when one sees a comet shooting through our cosmos, with its different orbit (drawing).

If one draws it according to Copernicus which is not quite correct, although it doesn't make much difference here one has sun, Mercury, Venus, earth, Mars; those are the inner planets: Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune—one can see that such comets have very irregular orbits with respect to these regular orbits. The view that these comets describe long ellipses is nonsense, but we don't have to go into that now. But in any case, the segments of the cometary orbits which lie within our planetary system do not agree with the planetary orbits at all.

And so this Satan lies in wait in order to catch every comet that comes along, and to use its momental inertia so that—when he has collected enough comets—he can throw the planets out of their orbits, and the earth with them. This situation exists in the universe; Satanic powers are continually lying in wait so that they can transform the entire planetary system. Thereby this planetary system would be taken away from the divine, spiritual powers in whose footsteps men should be walking, and it would be taken into quite different directions of world evolution. This intention is a terrible mistake from Michael's point of view, but an intention about which Michael would have to say: I couldn't even do it, for it would be impossible for a being who is in the archangel class to do something like that. Only beings who are in the archai class might have enough forces to carry out something along these lines. Michael—who decided to move in the sun's orbit a long time ago, and who therefore (in the sense of the Ptolemaic system) has become what is known in occultism as an archangel of the rotation of time for the planets and has decided to remain entirely within the orbital periods.

The angels had to decide to remain in these scheduled orbits at some point. In a certain epoch of Atlantean evolution the gods descended into the mystery centers, and one could really perceive that the hosts of archangels which include Oriphiel, Anael, Zachariel and so on, resolved to move within the prescribed planetary orbits. So this came about at a certain time.

However, the mighty hosts which are led by Satan have not made this decision up to the present time and they're still trying to use every cometary orbit in order to give a different configuration to the entire planetary system. Here one is dealing with an adversary of Christ who not only wants to corrupt individual human beings, and who doesn't just want to corrupt groups of human beings like the beast and the false prophet, but we have to do with Satan and his hosts and with direct attacks upon the earth's connection with the planetary system, as it were. This will have to be the third fall. In both of these last two falls we again have the rejoicing of the Luciferic kind of spiritual beings.

One must foresee these things. For the first stage, the Babylonian stage, will have straying human beings who have drawn an aberration into themselves through their physical constitution, so that there is no hope that anything particularly good will become of these walking human bodies over which the ego and astral body have entirely lost control. These bodies must be given up for lost although perhaps not the ego and astral body which belong to them. The former will then go on as such along the karmic paths of humanity. At a particular point in time we see certain men walking around in their bodies, who are men who have succumbed to the Babylonian temptation and whose bodies and what is in them fall out of evolution: the fall of Babylon.

The second thing is that human beings will walk around—one will be able to see this—of whom one will have to say that Ahrimanic power's, are living in them. Here Ahriman is acting directly; this is the beast; the fall of the beast and of the false prophet of the beast, who is a superhuman being and not a man.

The third thing is that one will notice that something about the laws of nature is becoming unexplainable. This will be the greatest and most important experience that people will be able to have, when they notice that something is becoming unexplainable about natural laws and that phenomena are not taking place in accordance with the laws of nature. It will often happen that one will have something which is not merely an erroneous calculation, but is calculated correctly, let's say that a planet should be in a certain place, but it doesn't get there.

Satan will make some first successful attempts to bring disorder into the planetary system. Mankind will have to develop a very strong spirituality in order to counteract this. For the disorder that can be brought about in this way will and can only be harmonized through the strong spirituality of human beings. These are the things which we can foresee today if we place future stages of human and earth evolution before our soul. This is what we see again when the Apocalypticer speaks to us. You should try to feel your way into this coincidence with what can really be gained from Anthroposophy or can gradually be disclosed through Anthroposophy.

For one will be able to speak of comets and one can already speak about them today to the effect that Satan is lying in wait for them in the cosmos, and that he wants to use their orbits to replace cosmos with chaos. For if you take what can be gained through Anthroposophic understanding into yourself and you can discover it again in the Apocalypse, there is something important about this rediscovery. A kind of soul encounter with the Apocalypse and therewith the Apocalypticer himself is present in this; that is important,—thereby with the Apocalypticer himself. For this will be very important, that the priest who is living into the future should increasingly get the longing to meet the Apocalypticer who looked into the future in this way after the Mystery of Golgotha,—the Apocalypticer at any time, regardless of whether he is living on earth or not.

For priests must get the feeling that the help that can come from John, the creator of the Apocalypse, to the one who wants to work in a Christian way that this help is an extremely important one, and one that one needs. However, we will only really be able to accompany John the Apocalypticer if we approach the Apocalypse with the attitude of soul that I described. Then John becomes our ally, and after all he is closely connected with Christ Jesus, he was initiated by Christ Jesus himself, he is an initiate of Christ Jesus. Therefore, he is an important ally. It is tremendously important to come to the Christ through him.

It is really true that a real understanding of the Apocalypse leads deep down into the region where one has the greatest imaginable prospects of meeting John and then the Christ himself. There is a deep truth connected with this and a truth which one can hope will have a very deep aftereffect upon your thinking and feeling, for it is a real priests' truth, that is, a truth which draws a priest into the spiritual realm in a legitimate way. We will continue with this tomorrow.

A question was asked about the design that appeared on the cover of the Austrian journal, Anthroposophy, showing the heads of an eagle, a lion, a bull and a man.

Dr. Steiner. Gentlemen, I think we should first bring to a conclusion our explanation of the human being, and then next time consider the aspects of man that these four symbols—the eagle, lion, bull and man—represent. Before we can say anything about them we must build a foundation, and this is something I shall try to do before the end of today's lecture. These four creatures, including man, spring from an ancient knowledge of the human being. They cannot be explained as the ancient Egyptians, for instance, would have done, but today they must be explained differently. One can interpret them correctly, of course, but nowadays one must begin from slightly different suppositions.

I would like now to direct your attention again to the way the human being evolves from his embryonic stage. I would like you to look once more at the very first stage, the earliest period. Conception has occurred, and the embryo is developing in the mother's womb. At first, it is just one microscopic cell containing proteinaceous substance and a nucleus. This single cell, the fertilized egg, actually marks the beginning of man's physical life.

Let us look then at the processes that immediately follow. What does this tiny egg, placed within the body of the mother, do? It divides. The one cell becomes two, and each of these cells divides in turn, thus creating more and more cells like the first. Eventually, our whole body is made up of such cells. They do not remain completely round but assume all manner of shapes and forms.

We must now take into account something I have mentioned before, which is the fact that the whole universe acts upon this minute cell in the mother's body. Nowadays, of course, such matters generally cannot be met with the necessary understanding, but it is nonetheless true that the whole cosmos works upon this cell. It is not at all the same if the ovum divides when, say, the moon stands in front of, or at a distance from, the sun. The whole starry heavens shed an influence on this cell, whose interior forms itself accordingly.

I have said before that during the first few months only the head of the unborn child is developed. (Referring to a drawing.) The head is already formed to this extent, and the rest of the body is really only an appendage. There are tiny little stubs, the hands, and other small protrusions, the legs. As it develops, the human being will transform its little appendages into hands, arms and feet.

How does this come about? How does it occur? The reason lies in the fact that in the earlier embryonic stages the influence of the starry heavens is greater. As the embryo develops and grows during those months in the mother's womb, it becomes increasingly subject to the gravity of the earth. When the world of the stars acts upon man, the emphasis is always on the head. It is gravity that, in time, draws out the other parts. The farther back we go, examining the second or first months of pregnancy, the more do we find these cells exposed to the influence of the stars. As more and more cells appear and millions gradually develop, they become increasingly subject to the forces of the earth.

Here is convincing evidence that the human body is magnificently organized. I would like to make this evident by considering one of the sense organs. I could just as easily take the example of the eye, but today I shall speak about the ear. You see, one of these cells develops into the ear. The ear is set into one of the cavities of the skull bones, and if you examine it properly, you will find that it is quite a remarkable structure. I shall explain the ear so that you can get some idea of it. You will see how such a cell moulds itself while it is still partially under the influence of the stars and partially under the influence of the earth. The ear is formed in such a marvellous way so that man can actually make use of it.

Let us proceed from the outside inward. To begin with, each of you can take hold of your auricle, the outer ear. We have sketched it as seen from the side (1). It consists of gristle and is covered with skin. It is designed to receive the maximum amount of sound. If we had only a hole there, the ear would capture much less sound. You can feel the passage into your ear; it goes into the interior of the so-called tympanic cavity, the interior of the head's bony system. This passage or canal is closed off inside by the eardrum, the tympanic membrane. There is really a thin, delicate, tiny skin attached to this canal, which might be likened to that of a drumhead. The ear, then, is closed off on the inside by the eardrum (2).

I'll continue by drawing the cavity that one observes in a skeleton (3). Here are the skull bones; here are the bones going to the jaw. Inside is a cavity into which this canal leads that is closed off by the eardrum. Behind the outer ear, the auricle, you have a hollow space, which I shall now tell you about. Not only does this canal, this outer passage that you can put your little finger into, lead into the head cavity, but another canal also leads into this cavity from the mouth. In other words, two passages lead into this cavity: one from the exterior that extends inward to the eardrum, and one from the mouth that enters behind the eardrum, which is called the Eustachian tube, though the name does not matter.

Now we come to a strange-looking thing—a veritable snail shell, the cochlea. It consists of two parts. Here is a membrane, and here is a space, the vestibule. Over here is another space, the tympanic cavity. The whole thing is filled with fluid, a living fluid, which I have described to you in another lecture. So within all this fluid is something made of skin that looks like a snail shell. Inside this snail shell, called the cochlea, are myriad little fibres that make up the basilar membrane. This is quite interesting. If you could penetrate the eardrum and look beyond it, you would find this soft snail shell, which is covered on the inside with minute, protruding hair-like fringes.

What, actually, is inside the cochlea? When one approaches the question truly scientifically, one notices that this is really a small piece of intestine that has somehow been placed within the ear. Just as we have the intestines within our abdomen, so do we have a tiny piece of intestine-like skin within our ear. The ear's configuration, then, is such that it contains a little intestine, just as in another part of the body we have a larger intestine. The cochlear duct, which is surrounded by a living fluid called the endolymph, is filled with another called the perilymph. All this is extremely interesting. The cochlea is closed off here by a tiny membrane shaped like an oval window, and here, again, by another little membrane that looks like a round window. Just as we can beat on a drum and make it vibrate, so do the sound waves, coming in from both sides, set into motion this little membrane, the oval window.

The oval window is a membrane set in the middle of the cochlea, and it closes off the inside of the little snail shell, which is filled with the slightly thicker fluid, the perilymph. The fluid on the outside is thinner. Below the oval window is another little membrane called the round window. Here we now approach something marvellous. Two tiny delicate bones sit on the membrane of the oval window. They look like a stirrup and are called the stapes. People also refer to them as the stirrup. So the stirrup sits on the little membrane, protruding in such a way as to resemble an upper and a lower arm on the membrane. Picture such an upper and lower arm of the stirrup and then here, strangely enough, another independent bone, the incus or anvil. The first two bones of the stirrup are connected by a joint; the incus is independent. These tiny bones are all in the ear, and since materialistic science looks at everything superficially, it calls the bone that sits directly on the eardrum, the hammer, this other bit of bone in the middle, the anvil, and this other, the stirrup—or malleus, incus and stapes.

Ordinary science, however, doesn't really know what these bones are. What is found here in the two arms of the stirrup is only a little different from an arm bent at the elbow. See, an elbow joint is the same as this joint of the stirrup above the membrane. And there is a kind of hand, on which sits an independent bone. We don't have such a bone in our hand, but it is comparable to our kneecap. So we can rightfully say that this is also like a leg, a foot; then that would be the thigh, that the knee (sketching), there the foot stands on the membrane, and there is the kneecap.

You see, it is most interesting that in the cavity of the ear we have first a kind of intestine and then a real hand, arm or foot. What is the purpose of all this? Well, imagine that a sound strikes the eardrum and everything in there begins to vibrate. Without being aware of it, the person is determining within the ear what kind of vibration it is. Now think of this, which you may have experienced at some time. You are standing somewhere on a street when something explodes behind you. You feel the explosion inwardly and may feel sick to your stomach from the shock. But this delicate shock that vibrates through the cochlea's “intestine” is felt by the fluid within, which conveys the vibrations that are imparted by the “touching” of the eardrum with a “hand,” as it were.

Now I would like to point out something else to you. What is the purpose of this Eustachian tube leading from the mouth to the inner ear? If sounds simply passed into the ear from the auricle, we would not need it, but to comprehend another's speech we must first have learned to speak ourselves. When we listen to someone else and wish to comprehend him, the sounds we have learned to speak pass through the Eustachian tube. When another person is speaking to us, the sounds come in through the auricle and make the fluid vibrate. Because the air passes into the ear from the outside, and since we know how to set this air in motion with our own speech, we can understand the other person. In the ear, the element of our own speech that we are accustomed to meets the element of what the other person says; there the two meet.

You see, when I say, “house,” I am accustomed to having certain vibrations occur in my Eustachian tube; when I say, “powder,” I experience other vibrations. I am familiar with these vibrations. When I hear the word “house,” the vibration comes from outside, and because I am used to identifying this vibration when I say the word myself, and since my comprehension and the vibration from outside encounter each other in the ear, I am able to recognize its meaning. The tube that leads from the mouth into the ear was there when as a child I learned to speak. Thus, we learned to understand the other person simultaneously as we learned to talk. These matters are most interesting.

Now, things are really like this. Imagine that nothing but what I have just sketched here existed in the ear. Then you could at least understand another person's words and also listen to a piece of music, but you would not be able to remember what you had heard. You would have no memory for speech and sound if the ear had nothing more than these parts. There is another amazing structure in the ear that enables you to retain what you have heard. These are three hollow arches, which look like this (sketching). The second is vertical to the first, and the third, vertical to the second. Thus, they are vertical to each other in three dimensions. These so-called semi-circular canals are hollow and are also filled with a living, delicate fluid. The remarkable thing about it is that infinitely small crystals are constantly forming from it. If you hear the word, “house,” for example, or the tone C, tiny crystals are formed in there as a result. If you hear a different word—“man,” for instance—slightly different crystals are formed. In these three little canals, microscopically small crystals take shape, and these minute crystals enable us not only to understand but also to retain in our memory what we have comprehended. For what does the human being do unconsciously?

Imagine that you have heard someone say, “Five francs.” You want to remember what has been said, so with a pencil you write it into your notebook. What you have written with lead in your notebook has nothing to do with live francs except as a means of remembering them. Likewise, what one hears is inscribed into these delicate canals with the minute crystals that do, in fact, resemble letters, and a subconscious intelligence in us reads them whenever we need to recall something. So, indeed, we can say that the memory for tone and sound is located within these three semi-circular canals. Here where this arm is located is comprehension, intelligence. Here, within the cochlea is a portion of man's feeling. We feel the sounds in this part of the labyrinth, in the fluid within the little snail shell; there we feel the sounds. When we speak and produce the sounds ourselves, our will passes through the Eustachian tube. The whole configuration of the human soul is contained in the ear. In the Eustachian tube lives the will; here in the cochlea is feeling; intelligence is in the auditory ossicles, those little bones that look like an arm or leg; memory resides in the semi-circular canals. So that man can become aware of the complete process, a nerve passes from here (drawing) through this cavity and spreads out everywhere, penetrates everywhere. Through this auditory nerve, all these processes are brought to consciousness in our brain.

You see, gentlemen, this is something quite remarkable. Here in our skull we have a cavity. One enters the inner ear cavity by passing from the auricle through the auditory canal and eardrum. Everything I have described to you is contained therein. First, we stretch out the “hand” and touch the incoming tones to comprehend them. Then we transfer this sensation to the living fluid of the cochlea, where we feel the tone. We penetrate the Eustachian tube with our will, and because of the tiny crystal letters formed in the semi-circular canals, we can recall what has been said or sung, or whatever else has come to us as sound.

So we can say that within the ear we bear something like a little human being, because this little being has will, comprehension, feeling and memory. In this small cavity we carry a tiny man around with us. We really consist of many such minute human beings. The large human being is actually the sum of many little human beings. Later, I'll show you that the eye is also such a miniature man. The nose, too, is a little human being. All these “little men” that make up the total human being are held together by the nervous system.

These miniature men are created while man is still an embryo in the mother's body. All that is being formed and developed there is still under the influence of the stars. After all, these marvellous configurations—the canals that produce the crystals, the little auditory bones—cannot be moulded by the gravity and forces of the earth. They are organized in the womb of the mother by forces that descend from the stars. The cochlea and Eustachian tube are parts that belong to man as a being of earth and are developed later. They are shaped by the forces that originate from the earth, from the gravity that gives us our form and that enables the child to stand upright long after it is born.

You see, if initially one knows how the whole human being originates from one small cell, and how one cell is transformed into an eye while another becomes an ear and a third the nose, one understands how man is gradually built up. Actually, there are ten groups of cells that transform themselves, not just one, but we may still imagine there to be one cell in the beginning. So, at first, just one cell exists. This produces a second, which by being placed in a slightly different position comes under a different influence and develops into the ear. Another develops into the nose, a third into the eye, and so on. None of this proceeds from any influence of the earth. The forces of the earth can mould only those parts that are mostly round, just as in the abdomen the earth organizes the intestinal system. Everything else is formed by the influence of the stars.

We know of these matters today because we have microscopes. After all, the auditory bones are minute. Remarkably enough, these things were also known by men in ancient times, though the source of their knowledge was completely different from that of today. For example, 3,000 years ago the ancient Egyptians were also occupied with a knowledge of man's organization and knew in their way just how remarkable the inner functions of the human ear are. They said to themselves that man has ears, eyes and other organs belonging to the head. If we wish to explain them, we must ask how the ear, for instance, was moulded so differently from the other organs. The ancients said that those organs that are part of the head developed primarily from what comes down to the earth from above. They said, “High up in the air the eagle develops and matures. One must look up into that region if one wishes to observe the forces that form the organs in the human head.” So, these ancient people drew an eagle in place of the head when they were depicting the human being.

When we observe the heart or lungs, we find that they look completely different from the ear or eye. When we look at the lungs, we cannot turn to the stars, nor can we do so in the case of the heart. The force of the stars works strongly in the heart, but we cannot deduce the heart's configuration solely from the stars. The ancient Egyptians knew this; they knew that these organs could not be as closely linked to the stars as those of the head. They pondered these aspects and asked themselves which animal's constitution emphasized the organs similar to the human heart and lungs. The eagle particularly develops those organs that man has in his head.

The ancients thought that the animal that primarily develops the heart, that is all heart and therefore the most courageous, is the lion. So they named the section of man that contains the heart and lungs “lion.” For the head, they said “eagle,” and for the midsection, “lion.”

They realized that man's intestines were again organs of a different kind. You see, the lion has quite short intestines; their development is curtailed. The minute “intestine” in the human ear is formed most delicately, but man's abdominal intestines are by no means shaped so finely. In observing the intestines, you can compare their formation only with the nature of those animals that are mainly under their influence. The lion is under the influence of the heart, and the eagle is under the sway of the upper forces. When you observe cows after they have been grazing, you can sense how they and their kind are completely governed by their intestines. When they are digesting, they experience great well-being, so the ancients called the section of man that constitutes the digestive system, “bull.” That gives us the three members of human nature: Eagle—head; lion—breast; bull—abdomen.

Of course, the ancients knew when they studied the head that it was not an actual eagle, nor the midsection a lion, nor the lower part a bull. They knew that, and they said that if there were no other influence, we would all go about with something like an eagle for our head above, a lion in our chest region and a bull down below; we would all walk around like that. But something else comes into play that transforms what is above and moulds it into a human head, and likewise with the other parts. This agent is man himself; man combines these three aspects.

It is most remarkable how these ancient people expressed, in such symbols, certain truths that we acknowledge again today. Of course, they could form these images easier than we because, though we modern people may learn many things, the thoughts we normally acquire in school do not touch our hearts too deeply. It was quite different in the case of these ancient people. They were seized by the feeling emanating from thoughts and therefore dreamed of them. These people dreamed true dreams. The whole human being appeared as an image to them, and from his forehead they saw an eagle looking out, from the heart, a lion, and from the abdomen, a bull. They combined this into the beautiful image of the whole human being. One can truly say that long-ago people composed their concept of the human being from the elements of man, bull, eagle and lion.

This outlook continued in the description of the Gospels. One frequently proceeded from this point of view. One said that in the Gospel of Matthew the humanity of Jesus is truly described; hence, its author was called “man.” Then take the case of John, who depicts Jesus as if He hovered or flew over the earth. John actually describes what happens in the region of the head; he is the “eagle.” When one examines the Gospel of Mark, one will find that he presents Jesus as a fighter, the valiant one; hence, the “lion.” Mark writes like one who represents primarily those organs of man situated in the chest. How does Luke write? Luke is presented as a physician, as a man whose main goal is therapeutic, and the healing element can be recognized in his Gospel. Healing is accomplished by bringing remedial forces into the digestive organs. Consequently, Luke describes Jesus as the one who brings a healing element into the lower nature of man. Luke, then, is the “bull.” So one can picture the four Gospels like this: Matthew—man; Mark—lion; Luke—bull; John—eagle.

As for the journal whose cover depicts the four figures that you asked about, its purpose is to present something of value that can be communicated from one human spirit to another. So the true human being should be depicted in it. In rendering this drawing, the eagle is represented above, then the lion and bull, with man encompassing them all. This was done to show that the journal represents a serious concern with man. This is its aim. Not much of the human element is present in the bulk of what newspapers print these days. Here attention was to be drawn to the fact that this newspaper or journal could afford man the opportunity to express himself fully. What he says must not be stupid: the eagle. He must not be a coward: the lion. Nor should he lose himself in fanciful flights of thought but rather stand firmly on earth and be practical: the bull. The final result should be “man,” and it should speak to man. This is what one would like to see happen, that everything passed on from man to man be conducted on a human level.

Well, I did have time after all to get to your question after looking at those subjects I started with. I hope my answer was comprehensible. Were you interested in the description of the ear? One should know these things; one should be familiar with what is contained in the various organs that one carries around within the body.

Question: Is there time to say something about the “lotus flowers” that are sometimes mentioned?

Dr. Steiner: I'll get to that when I describe the individual organs to you.

At the beginning of the study evening, Ludwig Graf Polzer-Hoditz will give a lecture “On foreign policy in the light of spiritual science and threefolding”. Rudolf Steiner will then take the floor.

Rudolf Steiner: Dearly beloved! I would like to say a few words, perhaps aphoristically, about some of the things that Count Polzer touched on today, since, after all, things that I have touched on here and there over the course of time have been repeatedly alluded to.

One can clearly see from various phenomena how the fact that Count Polzer wanted to point out, this rupture, I would say, which then led to the catastrophe, appears in the more recent political development of the 19th century. He spoke of these years of transition and of the complete bewilderment of the Central European peoples, of the 1870s and 1880s, when the battles over the occupation of Bosnia, the Slav question and so on took place in Austria. This was preceded by the 1860s, when there was still a certain after-effect of those European political moods that originated in 1848. These sentiments can be traced throughout Central Europe, both in the Austrian lands and in what later became the German Empire: it is what one might call the emergence of a certain abstract liberalism, an abstract-theoretical liberalism.

In Austria, at the end of the 1860s, the first so-called People's Ministry, Carlos Auersperg's, emerged from the Schmerling and Belcredi ministries. It had a distinctly liberal character, but a theoretical and abstract one. Then, after a very short interim government, in which the Slav question was brought to a certain height under Taaffe, Potocki, Hohenwart, the so-called second bourgeois ministry, the Adolf Auersperg Ministry, emerged in Austria in the 1870s, and with it a kind of bourgeois-liberal direction. These movements were paralleled by the struggles waged by the liberal parties of Prussia and the individual German states against the emerging imperialism of Bismarck and so forth. These liberal currents that emerged are extremely instructive, and it is actually a shame that today's generation remembers so little of what was said in Germany, in Prussia in the 1870s and 1880s, by men like Lasker and so on, and what was said in Austria by Giskra, mentioned today by Count Polzer, and other similar liberalizing statesmen. One would see how a certain liberal, good will arose, but which was basically abandoned by any kind of positive political insight. That is the characteristic feature: an abstract liberalism is emerging in Central Europe that has many fine liberal principles but that does not know how to reckon with historical facts, that talks of all possible human rights but knows little about history and is particularly unskilled at drawing conclusions from it. And it was perhaps the undoing of the whole of Central Europe – the World War began in Austria, or at least it started from Austria – it was the undoing that this liberalizing tendency in Austria was so terribly unpolitical towards the great problems that arose precisely in Austria and to which Count Polzer has pointed out in the most important parts.

Now we must study a little more closely what this liberalism in Austria actually represents. We can study it by listening to the speeches of the older and younger Plener today. You can study it by listening to the speeches of Herbst, that Herbst who wanted to be a great Austrian statesman of the liberalizing tendency. Bismarck, the realist, called Herbst's followers “die Herbstzeitlosen”, one of those bon mots that are deadly in public life. And this liberalism can be studied in another place, in Hungary, where Koloman Tisza repeatedly appeared in the Hungarian parliament with an extraordinarily strong sense of power, and in his outward demeanor, I would say, the true representative of a liberalism that is turned away from the world, that is unworldly, and which - without the historical facts - only reckons with what emerges from abstract, general principles. Tisza, the elder, the father of the man who played a role in the World War, showed this even in his outward behavior. He could never appear anywhere without a pencil in his hand, as if he were going to expound his principles, which are fixed in pencil notes, to those who represent a believing audience. In a sense, one can study a somewhat inferior edition in the person of Bismarck's opponent Eugen Richter, who, however, belongs to a later period in Prussia-Germany. These people can be used to analyse what has emerged as a thoroughly fruitless policy. In particular, all these people learned politics in the English political school. And the most important fact, the essential thing, was that everything that Plener, Giskra, Hausner, Berger, Lasker and Lasser put forward, everything that the Tisza put forward in Hungary, was something positive, concrete for the English; that it means something to the English because it refers to facts, because what is being pursued there as liberalizing principles, applied, can gradually lead to imperialism in the world. Yes, I would like to say that imperialism is strongly inherent in these things in the English representatives of these principles. When the same principles were advocated by the above-named personalities in their parliaments, they were like squeezed lemons; the same principles referred to nothing; they were abstractions. This is precisely where one can best study the difference between a reality and a phrase. The difference is not in the wording, but in whether one is in reality or not. If you say the same things in the Viennese or Berlin parliament as in the London parliament, it is something completely different. And that is why what came from England as a liberalizing trend and was a positive, concrete policy in England was just empty phrases and empty-phrase politics in Berlin and Vienna.

I cannot develop all these things here today, but just a few aphorisms, perhaps just images. But if one wants to see the contradictions that exist, it is interesting to hear or recall how speakers like Suess, Sturm or Plener spoke in the Austrian parliament of the time, or in the delegations, during the debate that followed on from the planned and then executed occupation of Bosnia and Herzegovina. And then a man appeared who spoke from the perspective of the Slavic nation. I still vividly remember a speech that made a certain great impression at the time. It was the speech that Otto Hausner gave in the Austrian Parliament, which he then published under the title 'Germanness and the German Reich'. Unfortunately, I was unable to get hold of it again. I would very much like to have it again, but I don't know if it is completely out of print. If one reads this speech in connection with another that he gave when the Arlberg tunnel was being built, if one reads what he said there from the point of view of higher politics and what he threw into the Austrian parliament from the political podium when Andrássy set out to work for the occupation of Bosnia, then realities were spoken. Hausner was, on the surface, a kind of fop, a kind of faded, snobbish and masked fop who could constantly be seen with his monocle in the Viennese mansion, whom one always met at a certain hour in Café Central, an old fop, but thoroughly brilliant and speaking out of realities. If you take all these speeches together, then basically [the catastrophe of] 1914 to 1918 was predicted back then, even what we are experiencing now, the soul sleep that is descending on this Central Europe. And there you can see how anyone who looks at reality — and I could give you many more such examples — must indeed come to the second thesis that has been mentioned to you this evening, out of reality.

These things that are connected with the threefold social order are certainly not something that has been thought up theoretically, they are not something professorial, but they are taken entirely from reality. And anyone who experienced how, in Austria, Austrian Germanness – for that was essentially the mainstay of Austrian liberalism – clashed with the then emerging and pretentious Austrian Slavdom, had to crystallize the view that Pan-Slavism is a positive force. Pan-Slavism has truly come into its own as a positive force. And perhaps more important than what came from Czechism – from Palacki to Rieger – is what came from Polishness. The Poles played an exceptionally important role in Austria as a kind of advance element, as a vanguard for Slavdom, and they represented all-embracing political points of view. Hausner, who was of Polish origin, once said in a speech that “Rhaetian-Alemannic blood globules” - a strange chemistry - rolled in his veins; but he felt he was a primeval Pole. But there were other Poles speaking in the Viennese parliament during these important times: Grocholski, Goluchowski and Dzieduszycki and so on, and it must be said that they did come up with some great political points of view, while the liberal German element unfortunately degenerated into empty phrases. It could not hold its own, so that it finally merged into the party that Polzer-Hoditz also mentioned, the Christian Social Party, which among young people in Vienna who were involved in politics at the time, and I was one of them, was called the “Party of the foolish fellows of Vienna”; it then became the Lueger Party.

This contrast between a declining direction and a rising one is very interesting. And in a sense, the Poles were unscrupulous, so that all sorts of things came out, for example the following: In Austria, they wanted to return to the old school law, to the old, clerical school law – I say “Austria”, but, to express its concreteness, they spoke in the Austrian parliament, [the Reichsrat], not of “Austria” or something like that, but of the “Kingdoms and Countries represented in the Reichsrat”; Austria-Hungary had a dualistic form of government; one part was called “the Kingdoms and Countries represented in the Reichsrat”, the other “the representation of the countries of the Holy Crown of Stephen”. So when they wanted to go back to a clerical school law in Austria, a majority could not be formed by the Germans alone, but either the Poles or the Ruthenians had to join forces with them. Whenever the opinion went in a certain direction, a coalition was formed between Germans and Ruthenians, and when it went in a different direction, between Germans and Poles. At that time, the issue was to create a clerical school law. The Poles tipped the scales, but what did they do? They said: Yes, all right, we agree to this school law, but we exclude Galicia. So they excluded their own country. So at that time a school law was created by a majority that had Polish delegates in its bosom, but these Polish delegates excluded their own country and imposed a school law on the other Austrian countries. This ultimately resulted in one area ruling over the other and enacting something that it did not want applied in its own area. That was the situation. How could the huge political tasks that arose be tackled with such a background!

It so happened that after this second bourgeois ministry, the government finally passed to this Taaffe ministry, which itself issued the certificate: In Austria, if you want to govern properly, you can only muddle through – that is, juggle from one difficulty to another, save one thing by another, and so on. The ministry that Taaffe headed as prime minister was then also “wittily” led. Taaffe owed his position less to his intellectual capacities than to the fact that at the time at the Viennese court - the Viennese court was already in a state that sailed into the gruesome drama of Mayerling —, that at that time at the Viennese court there was a great receptivity for the special art of Count Taaffe, which consisted in his being able to make little rabbits and shadow puppets with a handkerchief and fingers. The Viennese courtiers were particularly fond of them at the time, and that is how Taaffe's position was consolidated. He was able to keep this Austrian chaos in a corresponding current for a decade. It was actually quite bleak when you saw it happening. I really talked to quite sensible people at the time. They knew that Taaffe was kept in power by the little men. But people like the poet Rollett, for example, said to me: Yes, but Taaffe is still the most intelligent of them. It was a bleak situation. And we must not forget how, little by little over the course of that half-century to which Count Polzer has referred, the stage was set for the situation in which, during the World War, the very witty but thoroughly frivolous Czernin was able to play a leading role at the most important moment. How could one hope that something like the idea of the threefold social order, which was born out of the inner forces of history and brought to the Central European powers in 1917, would be understood otherwise than through adversity? People just didn't understand it, and that's not surprising, because after all, the threefold order is not understood by making bunnies. Other arts will be needed to penetrate into these things.

Now, you see, I have presented all this as a kind of image. One could show in many similar images how this whole catastrophe has been in preparation for a long time and how [in Central Europe] what was and is a reality in the West has become a cliché. And that was mainly something that I always used as a way of putting things to people [such as Kühlmann] - you needed a way of putting things to Kühlmann -: the fact that English politics is part of the great historical perspective in reality. This English policy has been preparing for centuries what has happened out of historical events. I believe that, of course, to understand the whole thing, it is necessary to delve into what underlies the external development and presentation of history.

But, dear ladies and gentlemen, read the memoirs of people. You will see how, in fact, where people present themselves in a certain way, as they are, we are confronted with what can be called: Central Europe is gradually degenerating in terms of the greatness of ideas, and the ideas that are particularly fruitful for Central Europe are emerging in England. It is interesting to follow, for example, the figure of the predecessor of Andrássy, Count Beust, that remarkable minister who could represent every form of patriotism and serve everyone. I would also like to describe Count Beust to you figuratively – there are various accounts in memoirs of how he related to Western European personalities: he would fold up into his knees, very politely, but he would fold up into his knees. So that is the Central European statesman who is actually unable to keep up. I have to mention all this because I was immediately asked about it by Count Polzer: How does it show itself, what has been working from the West for centuries, namely as a conscious English policy working with the historical powers?

The actual external agent [of this English policy] is King James VI, and I would like to say that the gunpowder conspiracy is something quite different from what is presented in history. It is actually the outward sign, the outward symptom of the importance of what is going through Europe from England as an impulse. This is a policy of the great historical perspective. You can see quite clearly the thesis that Count Polzer mentioned today and which I put forward when I first advocated the threefold order: you cannot take some measures – which are foolishly called the League of Nations today – to eliminate from the world what is factually given and must continue to have a factual effect, namely the Central European-English-American economic struggle. This struggle exists, just as the struggle for existence exists within the animal kingdom. It must be there, it cannot be eliminated from the world, but it must be taken up because it is a fact. The supporters of this Anglo-American policy see through this very well. And there something comes to meet us that can be clearly demonstrated – I am not telling hypotheses, but I am telling you things that you could hear in speeches in England in the second half of the 19th century. It was said quite clearly there: a great world war must break out in Europe – as I said, I am only quoting from speeches from the second half of the 19th century – this world war will lead to Russia becoming the great *testing ground for socialism. There, [in Russia], experiments will be carried out for socialism that we in the Western countries would not dream of wanting to strive for, because the conditions there do not allow it. There you see great aspects, the greatness of which you recognize by the fact that they have largely come true and – you can be sure – will continue to come true. But these aspects are not from yesterday; the “minds” of today's people are from yesterday, but not these aspects – they are centuries old.

And what Count Polzer will show you in a week's time as the actual spirit of Peter the Great's testament was simply what was to be opposed [from the East] to the imperialism of the West. Western imperialism, the Anglo-American essence, wanted to found the Anglo-American empire from the standpoint of the universal producer, so to speak. In the East, it has truly been thought of for a long, long time to tie in with the principles of the testament of Peter the Great – you will hear more about whether the testament is true or a forgery; but these are things that are actually of very little importance. And this, what is there in the West, should have been countered, so to speak, by a universal empire of consumption – the latter has already taken on terrible forms today. But these two realms are confronting each other. One can say that basically the one is as evil as the other in its one-sidedness. And in between, what appears to be a foray by the West into the liberalizing politics of Beust, Andrässy, Tisza, Berger, Lasker, Lasser and so on, is rubbing up against what appears to be an advance of Western liberalism. What appears to be an offshoot of Western liberalism comes up against what comes from the East. In Prussia, this is only a form of undifferentiated Polishness, while in Austria it is the strong characters that are there. For in fact, all types of character are represented in this Slavdom: the short, stocky, broad-shouldered Rieger with the broad, almost square face, with the tremendously powerful gaze – I would say that his gaze was power; in Rieger lived something like an after-effect of Palacky, who in 1848 from Prague had Panslavism; the old fop Hausner, very witty, but with him another nuance of what is active in the East emerges; and then people like Dzieduszycki, who spoke as if he had dumplings in his mouth, but was thoroughly witty and thoroughly in control of the matter. There one could study how Austrian Germanism in particular preserved a great, wonderful character. When I was in Hermannstadt in 1889 and had to give a lecture, I was able to study the declining Germanism in the Transylvanian Saxons – Schröer wrote a grammar of the Zipser Germanism and that of the Gottschee region. I have emphasized some of the greatness of this declining Germanness in my book “Vom Menschenrätsel” (The Riddle of Man). There we find these remarkable figures, who still had something of the elemental greatness of Germanness in them, such as Hamerling and Fercher von Steinwand. But Fercher von Steinwand, for example, gave a speech in the 1850s that encapsulates the entire tragedy of Central Europe. He said: What should one actually think of when thinking of the future of Germanness? He describes the gypsies, the homelessness of the gypsies. It is remarkable how some things have prophetically dawned on the best people in Central Europe. And it is true, the best people have actually been oppressed, and those who were at the top were terrible people. And so this adversity has prepared the way, which should actually be the great teacher.

In this state, in Austria, where there were thirteen official languages before the war, it really showed how impossible this old state structure actually is in modern humanity, how impossible it is to call a unified state what one was accustomed to. These thirteen different peoples – there were actually more, but officially there were thirteen – demanded with all their might what then had to be expressed as the idea of threefold social order. And Austria could be a great school for this world-historical policy. Especially if one studied it in Austria in the 1880s – I had to take over the editorship of the “Deutsche Wochenschrift” at that time – in the 1880s, when Taaffe ruled externally, when Lueger was being prepared, one really had the opportunity to see the driving forces. At that time, the whole character of Vienna changed. Vienna changed from a city with a German character to a city with an international, almost cosmopolitan character, due to the influx of Slavs. You could study how things developed. Then you realized that there was something impotent about the outcome of liberalism. It was like the impotence when Herbst spoke. Then it finally came to the point that people thought: This policy is no longer good! But they did not come to this conclusion because they inwardly recognized the empty phrases of a policy like Herbst's, which only produced abstractions, but because the Viennese government was striving for prestige and imperialism and used the occupation of Bosnia and Herzegovina. When someone like Herbst opposed it, people didn't see the emptiness of his words, they just saw that he couldn't identify with imperialist politics. In contrast to this, Plener, who basically spoke the same empty phrases, but who identified with and won over the people who were in favor of the occupation, because he was a bigger sycophant. It was at that time, under the impact of the Bosnian occupation, that Hausner delivered his great speeches, in which he prophetically predicted what basically came to pass. Even in what was said then, where the testament of Peter the Great played a role, there was something of the sheet lightning of what then came to pass in such a terrible way. Particularly in the speeches that Count Polzer mentioned today, in which the testament of Peter the Great and the grand perspectives of the Slavs were so often touched upon, a certain opportunity can be seen to see what one should have done, if one had been sensible, in the face of British policy and its grand historical perspectives.

Politics, ladies and gentlemen, must be studied as a reality and experienced as a reality. And again and again I have to say that it is actually extremely painful for me when the people who get hold of the “key points” do not look at them, that they are written out from a faithful observation of the European and other conditions of civilized modern life and with due consideration of all the relevant details. But, my dear audience, you really can't write all these things in detail in a book that is published as a kind of program book. Today I have only hinted at some things in pictures; but if you wanted to write about it, you would have to write fifty volumes. Of course, these fifty volumes cannot be written, but their content has been incorporated into the “Key Points”. And that is the great – or small – thing: it is the small characteristic of our time that one does not feel that there is a difference between the sentences that are spoken and written out of reality and all the gigantic nonsense that is going around the world today and that is actually treated today as having the same meaning as what is drawn from positive reality and what has been experienced. One should feel that this is included in the “key points” and does not need the proof of the fifty volumes. It is an indictment of humanity, this inability to feel whether a sentence, which may only be two lines long, is alive or just a journalistic phrase.

That is what is necessary and what we must and can arrive at: the ability to distinguish between journalism and empty phrases and content that has been experienced and born of blood. Without this, we will not make any progress. And precisely when an attempt is made to orient ourselves in terms of grand foreign policy, it becomes clear how necessary it is today for humanity to arrive at such a distinction.

That is what I wanted to suggest with a few rather inadequate sentences in response to Count Polzer's remarks.

After Rudolf Steiner's remarks, there will be an opportunity for discussion.