The Rudolf Steiner Archive

Room. Dominant note rose-red. Large rose-red chairs are arranged in a semicircle. To the left of the stage a door leads to the auditorium. One after the other, the speakers introduced enter by this door; each stopping in the room for a time. While they do so, they discuss the discourse they have just heard in the auditorium, and what it suggests to them.

Enter first Maria and Johannes, then others. The speeches which follow are continuations of discussions already begun in the auditorium.

Maria:
My friend, I am indeed distressed to see
Thy spirit and thy soul in sadness droop,
And powerless to help the bond that binds
And that has bound us both for ten blest years.
E'en this same hour, filled with a portent deep
In which we both have heard and learned so much
That lightens all the darkest depths of soul,
Brought naught but shade and shadow unto thee.
Aye, after many of the speakers' words,
My listening heart could feel the very dart
That deeply wounded thine. Once did I gaze
Into thine eyes and saw but happiness
And joy in all the essence of the world.
In pictures beauty-steeped thy soul held fast
Each fleeting moment, bathed by sunshine's glow—
Flooding with air and light the forms of men
Unsealing all the depths and doubts of Life.
Unskilled as yet thine hand to body forth
In concrete colour-schemes, those living forms
That hovered in thy soul; but in the hearts
Of both of us there throbbed the joyous faith
And certain hope that future days would teach
Thine hand this art—to pour forth happiness
Into the very fundaments of Being;
That all the wonders of thy spirit's search
Unfolding visibly Creation's powers
Through every creature of thine art would pour
Soul rapture deep into the hearts of men.
Such were our dreams through all those days of yore
That to thy skill, mirrored in beauty's guise,
The weal of future men would trace its source.
So dreamed mine own soul of the goal of thine.
Yet now the vital spark of fashioning fire
That burned within thee seems extinct and dead.
Dead thy creative joy: and well-nigh maimed
The hand, which once with fresh and youthful strength
Guided thy steadfast brush from year to year.

Johannes:
Alas, 'tis true; I feel as if the fires
That erstwhile quickened in my soul are quenched.
Mine eye, grown dull, doth no more catch the gleam
Shed by the flickering sunlight o'er the earth.
No feeling stirs my heart, when changing moods
Of light and shade flow o'er the scenes around;
Still lies my hand, seeking no more to chain
Into a lasting present fleeting charms,
Shown forth by magic elemental powers
From utmost depths of Life before mine eyes.
No new creative fire thrills me with joy.
For me dull monotone obscures all life.

Maria:
My heart is deeply grieved to hear that thou
Dost find such emptiness in everything
Which thrives as highest good and very source
Of sacred life itself within my heart.
All, friend, behind the changing scenes of life
That men call ‘Being,’ true life lies concealed
Spiritual, everlasting, infinite;
And in that life each soul doth weave its thread.
I feel afloat in spirit potencies,
That work, as in an ocean's unseen depths,
And see revealed all the life of men,
As wavelets on the ocean's upturned face.
I am at one with all the sense of Life
For which men restless strive, and which to me
Is but the inner self that stands revealed.
I see, how oftentimes it binds itself
Unto the very kernel of man's soul,
And lifts him to the highest that his heart
Can ever crave. Yet as it lives in me
It turns to bitter fruitage, when mine own
Touches another's being. Even so
Hath this, my destiny, worked out in all
I willed to give thee, when thou cam'st in love.
Thy wish it was to travel at my side
Unhesitating all the way, that soon
Should lead thee to a full and perfect art.
Yet what hath happened? All, that in mine eyes
Stood forth revealed in its own naked Truth
As purest life, brought death, my friend, to thee
And slew thy spirit.

Johannes:
Aye. 'Tis so indeed.
What lifts thy soul to Heaven's sun-kissed heights
When through thy life it comes into mine own
Thrusts my soul down, to death's abysmal gloom.
When in our friendship's rosy-fingered dawn
To this revealment thou didst lead me on,
Which sheds its light into the darkened realms,
Where human souls do enter every night,
Bereft of conscious life, and where full oft
Man's being wanders erring: whilst the night
Of Death makes mock at Life's reality.
And when thou didst reveal to me the truth
Of life's return, then did I know full well
That I should grow to perfect spirit-man.
Surely, it seemed, the artist's clear keen eye,
And certain touch of a creator's hand,
Would blossom for me through thy spirit's fire
And noble might. Full deep I breathed this fire
Into my being; when—behold—it robbed
The ebb and flow of all my spirit's power.
Remorselessly it drove out from my heart
All faith in this our world. And now I reach
A point where I no longer clearly see,
Whether to doubt or whether to believe
The revelation of the spirit-worlds.
Nay more, I even lack the power to love
That which in thee the spirit's beauty shows.

Maria:
Alas! The years that pass have taught me this
That mine own way to live the spirit-life
Doth change into its opposite, whene'er
It penetrates another's character.
And I must also see how spirit-power
Grows rich in blessing when, by other paths,
It pours itself into the souls of men.
(Enter Philia, Astrid, and Luna.)
It floweth forth in speech, and in these words
Lies power to raise to realms celestial
Man's common mode of thinking; and create
A world of joy, where erstwhile brooded gloom.
Aye, it can change the spirit's shallowness
To depths of earnest feeling; and can cast
Man's character in sure and noble mould.
And I—yes, I am altogether filled
By just this spirit-power, and must behold
The pain and desolation that it brings
To other hearts, when from mine own it pours.

Philia:
It seemed as though the voices of some choir
(Enter Prof. Capesius and Dr. Strader.)
Mingled together, uttering manifold
Conceptions and opinions, each his own,
Of these who formed our recent gathering.
Full many harmonies there were indeed,
But also many a harsh-toned dissonance.

Maria:
Ah, when the words and speech of many men
Present themselves in such wise to the soul,
It seems as though man's very prototype
Stood centred there in secret mystery:
Became through many souls articulate,
As in the rainbow's arch pure Light itself
Grows visible in many-coloured rays.

Capesius:
Through changing scenes of many centuries
We wandered year on year in earnest search;
Striving to fathom deep the living force
That dwelt within the souls of those who sought
To probe and scan the fundaments of being,
And set before man's soul the goals of life.
We thought that in the depths of our own souls
We lived the higher powers of thought itself;
And thus could solve the riddles set by fate.
We felt we had, or seemed at least to feel,
Sure basis in the logic of our mind
When new experiences crossed our path
Questioning there the judgment of our soul.
Yet now such basis wavers, when amazed
I hear to-day, as I have heard before,
The mode of thought taught by these people here.
And more and more uncertain do I grow,
When I perceive, how powerfully in life
This mode of thought doth work. Full many a day
Have I spent thus, thinking how I might shape
Time's riddles as they solved themselves to me
In words, that hearts might grasp and trembling feel.
Happy indeed was I, if I could fill
Only the smallest corner of some soul
Amongst my audience with the warmth of life.
And oftentimes it seemed success was mine,
Nor would I make complaint of fruitless days.
Yet all results of teaching thus could lead
Only to recognition of this truth
So loved and emphasized by men of deeds,
That in the clash of life's realities,
Thoughts are dim shadows, nothing more nor less:
They may indeed wing life's creative powers
To due fruition, but they cannot shape
And mould our life themselves. So have I judged
And with this modest comment was content:
Where pale thoughts only work, all life is lamed
And likewise all that joins itself to life.
More potent than the ripest form of words,
However art might weave therein her spell,
Seemed nature's gift, man's talents—and more strong
The hand of destiny to mould his life.
Tradition's mountainweight, and prejudice
With dull oppressive hand will always quench
The strength of e'en the very best of words.
But that which here reveals itself in speech
Gives men, who think as I do, food for thought.
Clearly we saw the kind of consequence
That comes when sects, in superheated speech,
Blind souls of men with dogma's seething stream.
But nought here of such spirit do we find;
Here only reason greets the soul, and yet
These words create the actual powers of life,
Speaking unto the spirit's inmost depths.
Nay even to the kingdom of the Will
This strange and mystic Something penetrates;
This Something, which to such as I, who still
Wander in ancient ways, seems but pale thought.
Impossible, it seems, to disavow
Its consequences; none the less, myself
I cannot quite surrender to it yet.
But it all speaks with such peculiar charm
And not as though it really meant for me
The contradiction of experience.
It almost seems as if this Something found
The kind of man I am, insufferable.

Strader:
I would associate myself in fullest sense
With every one of thy last spoken words:
And still more sharply would I emphasize
That all results in our soul-life, which seem
To spring forth from the influence of ideas,
Cannot in any wise decide for us
What actual worth of knowledge they conceal.
Whether there lives within our mode of thought,
Error or truth—'tis certain this alone
The verdict of true science can decide.
And no one would with honesty deny
That words, which are, in seeming only, clear,
Yet claim to solve life's deepest mysteries,
Are quite unfit for such a scrutiny.
They fascinate the spirit of mankind,
And only tempt the heart's credulity;
Seeming to open door into that realm
Before which, humble and perplexed, now stands
The strict and cautious search of modern minds.
And he who truly follows such research
Is bound in honour to confess that none
Can know whence streams the wellspring of his thought,
Nor fathom where the depths of Being lie.
And though confession such as this is hard
For souls who all too willingly would gauge
What lies beyond the ken of mortal mind,
Yet every glance of every thinker's soul
Whether directed to the outer side,
Or turned towards the inner depths of life,
Scans but that boundary and naught beside.
If we deny our rational intellect
Or set aside experience, we sink
In depths unfathomable, bottomless.
And who can fail to see how utterly
What passeth here for revelation new,
Fails to fit in with modern modes of thought.
Indeed it needs but little thought to see,
How totally devoid this method is
Of that, which gives all thought its sure support
And guarantees a sense of certainty.
Such revelations may warm listening hearts,
But thinkers see in them mere mystic dreams.

Philia:
Aye, thus would always speak the science, won
By stern sobriety and intellect.
But that suffices not unto the soul,
That needs a steadfast faith in its own self.
She ever will give heed to words that speak
To her of spirit. All she dimly sensed
In former days, she striveth now to grasp.
To speak of the Unknown may well entice
The thinker, but no more the hearts of men.

Strader:
I too can realize how much there lies
In that objection; how it seems to strike
The idle dreamer, who would only spin
The threads of thought, and seek the consequence
Of this or that premise, which he himself
Hath formed beforehand. Me—it touches not—
No outer motive guided me to thought.
In childhood I grew up 'mid pious folk
And, following their custom, steeped my soul
In sense-intoxicating images
Of future sojourn in celestial realms,
Wherewith they seek to comfort and beguile
Man's ignorance and man's simplicity.
Within my boyish soul I sensed the throb
Of utmost ecstasy, when reverently
I raised my thoughts to highest spirit-worlds;
And prayer was then my heart's necessity.
Thereafter in a cloister was I trained;
Monks were my teachers, and in mine own heart
The deepest longing was to be a monk,—
An echo of my parent's ardent wish.
For consecration did I stand prepared
When chance did drive me from the cloistered cell;
And to this chance I owe deep gratitude.
For, many days before chance saved my soul
It had been robbed of inward peace and quiet;
For I had read and learned of many things,
That have no place within the cloister-gate.
Knowledge of nature's working came to me
From books that were forbidden to mine eyes;
And thus I learned new scientific thought.
Hard was the struggle as I sought the path
Wandering through many a way to find mine own;
Nor did I ever gain by cunning thought
Whate'er of truth revealed itself to me.
In fierce-fought battles have I torn the roots
From out my spirit's soil of all that brought
Peace and contentment to me when a child.
I understand indeed the heart that fain
Would soar up to the heights—but for myself,
When once I recognized that all I learned
From spirit-teaching was an empty dream,
I was compelled to find the surer soil
That science and discovery create.

Luna:
We may surmise, each after his own kind,
Where sense and goal of life doth lie for each.
I altogether lack the power to prove
According to the science of to-day,
What spirit-teaching I have here received:
But clear within my heart I feel and know
My soul would die without this spirit-lore,
As would my body, if deprived of blood.
And thou, dear doctor, 'gainst our cause dost fight
With many words, and what thou now hast told
Of thy life's conflict lends them weight indeed
Even with those who do not understand
Thy learned argument. Yet would I ask
(Enter Theodora.)
Exactly why it is that hearts of men
Receive the word of Spirit readily,
As though self-understood: yet when man seeks
Food for his spirit in such learned words
As thou didst use his heart grows chill and cold.

Theodora:
Although I am at home 'mid just such men
As circle round me here, yet strangely sounds
This speech I have just heard.

Capesius:
What strangeness there?

Theodora:
I may not say. Do thou, Maria, tell.

Maria:
Our friend has oftentimes explained to us
What strange experiences come to her.
One day she felt herself completely changed,
And none could understand her altered state.
Estrangement met her wheresoe'er she turned
Until she came into our circle here.
Not that we fully understand ourselves
What she possesses and what no one shares.
Yet we are trained by this our mode of thought
The unaccustomed to appreciate,
And feel with every mood of humankind.
One moment in her life, our friend perceived,
All that seemed hers aforetime, disappear;
The past was all extinguished in her soul.
And since these wondrous changes came to her,
This mood of soul hath oft renewed itself;
It doth not long endure; and other times
She lives her life as ordinary folk.
Yet whensoe'er she falls into this state,
The gift of memory doth fade away.
She loseth from her eyes the power to see
And senseth her surroundings, seeing not.
With a peculiar light her eyes then glow,
And pictured forms appear to her. At first
They seemed like dreams; anon they grew so clear,
That we could recognize without a doubt
Some prophecy of distant future days.
Full many a time have we seen this occur.

Capesius:
It is just this that little pleaseth me
Amongst these men; who mingle with good sense
And logic, superstition's fallacies.
'Twas ever thus where men have walked this path.

Maria:
If thou canst still speak so, thou dost not yet
Perceive our attitude towards these things.

Strader:
Well, as for me, I freely must confess,
That I would sooner revelations hear
Than speak of questionable spirit-themes.
For even if I fail to read aright
The riddle of such dreams, yet those at least
I count as facts; and would 'twere possible
To see one instance of the mystery
Of this strange spirit-mood before mine eyes.

Maria:
Perchance it is for look, she comes again.
And it doth seem to me as though e'en now
This mystic spirit-mood would show itself.

Theodora:
I am compelled to speak. Before my soul
A pictured form stands wrapped in robes of light;
From which strange words are sounding in mine ears.
I feel myself in future centuries,
And men do I behold as yet unborn:—
They also see the pictured form; they too
Can hear the words it speaks, which thus resound—
'O ye, who lived in faith's security,
Take comfort now in sight, and look on Me.
Receive new life through Me. For I am He
Who lived within the souls of those who sought
To find Me in themselves, by following
The gospel-words My messengers did bring
And by their own devotion's inward power.
The light of sense ye saw—believe ye now
In the creative spirit-world beyond.
For now indeed ye have yourselves achieved
One atom of divine prophetic sight.
Oh, breathe it deep, and feel it in your souls.'
A human form steps from that sphere of light.
And speaks to me: ‘Thou shalt make known to all
Who will give ear to thee, that thou hast seen
What all mankind shall soon experience:
Once, long ago, Christ lived upon the earth,
And from this life ensued the consequence
That in soul-substance clad He hovers o'er
The evolution of humanity,
In union with the earth's own spirit-sphere;
And though as yet invisible to men,
When in such form He manifests Himself,
Since now their being lacks that spirit sight,
Which first will show itself in future times;
Yet even now this future draweth nigh
When that new sight shall come to men on earth.
What once the senses saw, when Christ did live
Upon the earth; this shall be seen by souls
When soon the time shall reach its fullness due.’
(Exit.)

Maria:
This is the first time we have heard her speak
In such a manner to so many folk.
At other times she felt constrained to speech,
Only when two or three were gathered round.

Capesius:
To me indeed it seems most curious,
That she, as though commanded or required,
Should find herself to revelation urged.

Maria:
It may so seem; but we know well her ways
If at this moment she desired to send
Her inward soul-voice deep into your souls,
The only reason was, that unto you
The source, whence came her voice, desired to speak.

Capesius:
Concerning this strange future gift of sight;
Whereof she spake, as dreaming, we have heard
That he, who of this circle is the soul,
Hath oft already given full report.
Is it not possible that from his words
The content of her speech hath origin,
The mode of utterance coming from herself?

Maria:
If matters thus did stand, we should not deem
Her words of any consequence or weight:
But we have tested this condition well.
Before she came into our circle here,
Our friend had never heard in any way
Of that same leader's speeches, nor had we
Heard aught of her before she came to us.

Capesius:
Then what we have to deal with is a state,
Such as so often happens, contrary
To all the laws of nature; and which we
Must merely estimate as some disease.
And only healthy thought, securely based
On fully conscious sense-impressions, can
Pass judgment on the riddles set by life.

Strader:
Yet even here one fact presents itself;
And what we now have heard must have some worth—
For, even if we set aside all else
It doth compel the thought that spirit-power
Can cause thought-transference from soul to soul.

Astrid:
Ah me, if ye would only dare to tread
The ground your mode of thought doth choose to shun:
As snow before the sunlight's piercing glare
Your vain delusion needs must melt away,
Which makes the moods revealed, in such minds
Appear diseased, abnormal, wonderful.
They are suggestive, but they are not strange.
And small this wonder doth appear to me
When I compare it with the myriad
Of wonders that make up my daily life.

Capesius:
Nay, nay, one thing it is to recognize
What lies before our eyes on every side,
But quite another, what is shown us here.

Strader:
Of spirit 'tis not necessary to speak
Until there are things shown to us which lie
Outside the strictly circled boundary
Set by the laws of scientific thought.

Astrid:
The clear shaft of the sunlight on the dew
Which glistens in the morning's golden light,
(Enter Felix Balde.)
The hurling stream that riseth 'neath the rock,
The thunder rumbling in the cloud-wrapped sky,
All these do speak to me a spirit tongue:
I strove to understand it and I know
That of this speech's meaning and its might,
Only a faint reflection can be glimpsed
Through your investigations, as they are.
And when that kind of speech sank deep within
My heart, I found my soul's true joy at last.
Nor could aught else, but human words alone
And spirit teaching grant this gift to me.

Felix Balde:
Those words rang true indeed

Maria:
I must essay
To tell what joy fills all my heart to see
(Enter Felicia Balde.)
For the first time here with us yonder man,
Of whom we oft have heard; and joy doth cause,
The wish to see him here full many times.

Felix Balde:
It is not usual for me that I should
Associate with such a crowd of men:
And not alone unusual—

Felicia:
Aye, 'tis so.
His nature drives us into solitude
Away from all; year in, year out, we hear
Scarce any other converse save our own.
And if this good man here from time to time
(Pointing to Capesius.)
Came not to linger in our cottage home,
We scarce should realize that other men,
Besides ourselves, live on the earth at all.
And if the man, who spake such wondrous words
But recently in yonder lecture-hall,
And who affected us so potently,
Did not full many a time my Felix meet,
When he is gone about his daily tasks,
Ye would know nought of our forgotten life.

Maria:
So the professor often visits you?

Capesius:
Assuredly. And I may tell you all,
The very deep indebtedness I feel
To this good woman, who doth give to me
In rich abundance, what none other can.

Maria:
And of what nature are these gifts of hers?

Capesius:
If I would tell the tale, then must I touch
A thing that verily doth seem to me
More wonderful than much that here I've heard,
In that it speaks more nearly to my soul.
But were I in some other place, these words
Would hardly pass the barrier of my lips;
Yet here they seem to flow therefrom with ease.
In my soul-life there often comes a time
When it doth feel itself pumped out and dry.
It seems as though the very fountain-head
Of knowledge had run dry within my heart.
Then can I find no word of any kind
Worthy to speak or worthy to be heard.
And when I feel such spirit barrenness
I flee to these good people, and seek rest
In their reviving, peaceful solitude;
Then Mistress Felix tells me many a tale
Set forth in wondrous pictures, manifold,
Of beings, dwelling in the land of dreams,
Who lead a joyous life in fairy realms.
When thus she speaks, her tone and speech recall
Some oft-told legend of the ancient days.
I ask no question whence she finds these words
But this one thing alone I clearly know:
That new life flows therefrom into my soul,
And sweeps away its dull paralysis.

Maria:
To hear such splendid witness to the skill
Of Dame Felicia doth, in wondrous wise,
Harmoniously blend in every way
With all that Benedictus told to us
About his friend's deep hidden knowledge-founts.

Felix Balde:
He who spake words to us just now, which showed
(Benedictus appears at the door.)
How in the realm of universal space,
And vast eternities his spirit dwelt,
Hath surely little need to speak o'er much
Of simple men.

Benedictus:
Thou errest friend. For me
Infinite value hath each word of thine.

Felix Balde:
It was presumption only, and the bent
Of idle talk, when thou didst honour me
To wander at thy side our mountain paths.
Only because thou didst conceal from me
How much thyself dost know, I dared to speak.
But now our time is up, and we must go—
A long way hence doth lie our quiet home.

Felicia:
It hath been most refreshing once again
To come amongst mankind: and yet I fear
It will not happen very soon again:
There is no other life which Felix deems
Better than living in his mountain heights.
(Exeunt Felix and his wife.)

Benedictus:
Indeed I well believe his wife is right,
Nor will he come again for many days.
It needed much to bring him here to-day.
And yet the reason lies not in himself
Why no one knoweth aught of him or his.

Capesius:
He only seemed to me eccentric, strange;
And many an hour I found him talkative
When I was with him; but his mystic speech
And strange discourse remained obscure to me,
When he revealed all that he claims to know.
He spoke of solar beings housed in rocks;
Of lunar demons, who disturb their work;
And of the sense of number hid in plants;
And he who listens to him cannot long
Keep clear the thread of meaning in his words.

Benedictus:
And yet 'tis also possible to feel
As if the powers of Nature, through these words,
Sought to reveal themselves in their true state.
(Exit.)

Strader:
Already do I feel forebodings strange
That now dark hours are coming in my life.
For since the days of cloistered solitude,
Where I was taught such knowledge, and thereby
Struck to the very darkest depth of soul,
Not one experience has stirred me so,
As this weird vision of the seeress here.

Capesius:
Indeed I cannot see that aught of that
Should prove unnerving. And I fear, my friend,
That if thou once dost lose thy certainty,
Dark doubt will soon envelop all thy thought.

Strader:
Too true! And 'tis the fear of just this doubt
That causeth me full many an anxious hour.
From my experience I know nought else
Of this strange gift of seership, save that when
Life's vexing problems sorely trouble me,
Then, ghostlike, riseth from dark spirit-depth,
Before my spirit's eyes, some phantom form
Like some dream-being, grim and terrible,
Pressing with fearful weight upon my soul,
And clutching horribly around my heart.
It seems to speak right through me words like these:
‘If thou dost fail to gain the victory
O'er me with those blunt weapons of thy thought,
Thou art a fleeting phantom, nothing more,
Formed by thine own deluded imagery.’

Theodosius:
That is the destiny of all such men,
As do approach the world by thought alone.
The spirit's voice dwells deep in every soul.
Nor have we strength to pierce the covering
That spreads itself before our faculties.
Thought doth bring knowledge of things temporal,
Of things that vanish in the course of time:
The everlasting and all spirit-truth
Are found but in the inner depths of man.

Strader:
If, then, the fruitage of a pious faith
Is able to give rest to weary souls,
Such souls may wander safely in that path,
And find sufficiency within themselves.
And yet the power of knowledge, pure and true,
Doth never bloom on such a. path as this.

Theodosius:
Yet there can be no other way to light
True spirit-knowledge in the hearts of men.
Pride may seduce and change to fantasies
The soul's true depths of feeling, and may see
A vision only where faith's beauty lies.
One thing alone of all we here have heard
From spirit-teaching of the higher worlds,
Strikes clear upon our honest human sense:
That only in the spirit-world itself
The soul can feel itself in its true home.

The Other Maria:
So long as man feels need of speech alone,
And nought besides, so long such words as these
May satisfy bim: but the fuller life
With all its strife, its yearnings after joy,
And all its sorrow, needeth other food
To nourish and sustain the fainting soul.
For me, an inner voice did drive me on
To spend all the remaining days of life
Which were allotted me, in helping those
Whom stress of destiny had smitten down
And plunged in deepest poverty and need.
And far more oft I found it necessary
To soothe the anguish of the soul of man
Than heal his body's pain and suffering.
But I have felt indeed in many ways
My will's weak impotence to comfort men.
So that I am compelled to seek fresh strength
From out the treasured store which floweth forth
Abundantly from spirit-sources here.
The quickening warmth of words which greet my sense,
Flows forth with magic force into my hands;
And thence, like healing balsam, forth again,
When those hands touch some sorrow-laden soul.
It changeth on my lips to strengthening words
Which carry comfort unto pain-racked hearts.
The source of words like these I do not ask;
I feel their truth—they give me living life.
And every day more clearly do I see,
That they derive their strength not from my will
In all its weakness, but create anew
Myself each day unto myself again.

Capesius:
Yet surely there are men enough on earth
Who, though they lack such revelation's aid,
Perform innumerable deeds of good?

Maria:
In sooth there is no lack of men like these
In many places; but my friend doth mean
A different thing; and if thou didst but know
The life she led, thou wouldst speak otherwise.
Where unused powers in full abundance dwell
There love will cause the seed to germinate
In rich abundance in the heart's good soil.
But our friend here exhausted life's best powers
In never-ending toil beyond her strength;
And all her will to live lay crushed and dead
Beneath the cruel weight of destiny,
Which fell upon her. All her strength she gave
To careful guidance of her children's weal:
And low already had her courage ebbed
When early death took her loved husband home.
In such a state as this, days dull and drear
Seemed all fate had in store whilst life remained.
But then the powers of destiny prevailed
To bring her 'neath the spell of spirit-lore;
And soon with us she felt the vital force
Of life break forth in her a second time.
Fresh aims in life she found, and with them came
Fresh courage once again to fight and strive.
And thus in her the spirit hath achieved
In very truth to fashion from decay
A new and living personality.
And when the spirit in such fruit as this
Shows its creative potency, we learn
It s nature, and the way it speaks to us.
And, if no pride lies hidden in our speech,
And highest moral aims live in our hearts;
If we believe that in no way at all
Our teaching is our own;—but that alone
The spirit shows itself within our souls—
Then may we surely venture to assert
That in thy mode of thinking may be found
But feeble shadows waving to and fro
Athwart the real true source of human life:
And that the spirit, which ensouls our work
Is linked in inward harmony with all
That weaves the web of destiny for man
Deep in the very fundaments of life.
I have been privileged for many years
To give myself to vital work in life:
And during all this time more bleeding hearts
And yearning souls have come before mine eyes,
Than many would conceive were possible.
I do esteem thy high ideal flight,—
The proud assurance of thy sciences:
I like to see the student-audience,
Respectful, sit and listen at thy feet:
And that to many souls thy work doth bring
Ennobling clarity of thought, I know.
But yet regarding thought like this, it seems,
Trustworthiness can only dwell therein
So long as thought lives in itself alone.
Whereas the realm of which I am a part
Sends into deep realities of life
The fruitage of its words, since it desires
To plant in deep realities its roots.
Far, far away from all thy thought doth lie
The written word upon the spirit-heaven
Which with momentous tokens doth announce
New growth upon the tree of humankind.
Thought on the old lines clear and sure may seem,
Yet can it only touch the tree's coarse bark,
And never reach the living sap within.

Romanus:
For my part I do seek in vain the bridge
That truly leadeth from ideas to deeds.

Capesius:
'Tis true our friends do over-estimate
The power that can be wielded by ideas,
But thou dost in another way mistake
The actual course of true reality:
For it is certain that ideas must form
The germ of all the actual deeds of men.

Romanus:
If this friend doth so many deeds of good,
The impulse thereunto lies in herself
And her warm-hearted nature, not in thought.
Most certainly 'tis needful for man's soul,
After the busy day of toil and work,
With noble thought to edify the mind.
But yet 'tis only schooling of man's will
In harmony with all his skill and power
To undertake some real work in life
Which will help forward all the human race.
When whirr of busy wheels sounds in mine ears,
Or when I see some creaking windlass drawn
By strong stout hands of men content to work,
Then do I sense indeed the powers of Life.

Germanus:
Often in careless speech have I maintained
That I preferred things droll and humorous
And held these only full of wit and charm,
Deeming that for my brain at any rate,
They always would provide material
Best fitted to fill up the time that lies
Between my recreation and my work.
But now quite tasteless to me seem such things;
The Power Invisible hath conquered me;
And I have learned to feel that there may be
More powerful forces in humanity,
Than all our wit's frail castles in the air.

Capesius:
And did it seem that nowhere else but here
'Twas possible to find such spirit-powers?

Germanus:
Indeed the life I used to live did offer me
Full many a type of spiritual work:
Yet cared I not to pluck or taste its fruit.
But this strange mode of thought which blossoms here
Seems to attract and draw me to itself
However little I desired to come.

Capesius:
Most pleasant hath this hour of converse been,
And we are debtors to our hostess here.
(Exeunt all, except Maria and Johannes.)

Johannes:
Oh, stay a little while yet by my side,
I am afraid:—so desperately afraid:—

Maria:
Tell me; what is it aileth thee, my friend?

Johannes:
The first cause was our leader's speech; and then
The chequered converse of these people here.
It all hath moved and stirred me through and through.

Maria:
But how could simple speeches such as these
Seize on thine heart with such intensity?

Johannes:
Each word seemed in that moment unto me
A dreadful symbol of our nothingness.

Maria:
Indeed it was significant to see
Pour forth in such short time so many kinds
Of life and man's conflicting tendencies,
In all the speeches that we lately heard.
Yet 'tis indeed a most peculiar trait
Of life, as it is lived amongst us here,
To bring to speech the inner mind of man;
And much that otherwise comes slowly forth,
Stands here revealed in little space of time.

Johannes:
A mirrored picture 'twas of fullest life
That showed me to myself in clearest lines:
This spirit-revelation makes me feel
That most of us protect and train one trait
And one alone in all our character,
Which thus persuades itself it is the whole.
I sought to unify these many traits
In mine own self and boldly trod the path
Which here is shown, to lead unto that goal;
And it hath made of me a nothingness.
Keenly I feel what all these others lack,
And yet I sense as keenly that they all
Have actual part in life itself, whilst I
Stand but on unsubstantial nothingness.
It seemed whole lines of life ran into one
Significant in those brief speeches here.
But then mine own life's portrait also rose
And stood forth vividly within my soul.
The days of childhood first were painted there,
With all its fullness and its joy in life:
Then came the picture of my youthful prime
With that proud hopefulness in parent-hearts
Awakened by the talents of their son.
Then dreams concerning my career in art,
Which formed life's all in those old happy days,
Surged up from out my spirit's inmost depths
Exhorting to fulfil my cherished hopes;
And then those dreams in which thyself didst see
How I translated into coloured form
The spirit-life that liveth in thy soul.

Then saw I tongues of fire spring up and lick
Around my youthful dreams and artist hopes,
Reducing all to dust and nothingness.
Thereafter rose another pictured form
From out that drear and dreadful nothingness—
A human form, which once had linked its fate
In faithful love with mine in days long past.
She sought to hold me by her when I turned
Long years ago unto my home again,
Called to attend my mother's funeral rites.
I heeded not, but tore myself away;
For mighty was the power that drew me here
To this thy circle and the goals of life
Which here are set before our eager gaze.
In those dark days I felt no sense of guilt
When I did rend in twain the bond of love,
That was unto another soul its life.
Nor later when the message came to me
How that her life did slowly pine away,
And finally was altogether quenched
Did I feel aught of guilt until to-day;
But full of meaning were those recent words
In yonder chamber which our leader spake;
How that we may destroy by power misused
And perverse thought the destiny of those
Whom bonds of loving trust link to our souls.
Ah, hideously these words again resound
Out of the picture, thence re-echoing
With ghastly repetition from all sides:
‘Her murderer thou art! her hast thou slain!’
Thus whilst this weighty speech hath been for all
The motive to probe deep within themselves,
Within my heart it hath brought forth alone
The consciousness of this most grievous guilt.
By this new means of sight I can perceive
How far astray my striving footsteps erred.

Maria:
And at this moment, friend, in dark domains
Thou walkest, and none else can help thee there,
Save he, in whom we all do put out trust.
(Maria is called away; re-enter Helena.)

Helena:
I feel constrained to linger by thy side
A little while; since now for many weeks
Thy gaze hath held so much of grief and care.
How can the light, which streams so radiantly
Bring gloom unto thy soul, which only strives
With utmost strength to seek and know the truth?

Johannes:
Hath then this light brought naught but joy to thee?

Helena:
Not the same joy as that which once I knew,
But that new joy which springeth from those words,
Through which the spirit doth reveal itself.

Johannes:
Natheless I tell thee that the self-same power,
Which doth in thee create, can also crush.

Helena:
Some error must have crept into thy soul
With cunning tread, if this be possible;
And if dull care instead of happiness,
And moods of sorrow flow forth from the source
Of truth itself instead of spirit-bliss
In free abundance: seek then in thyself
The stumbling-blocks that thus impede thy way.
How often are we told that only health
Is the true fruitage of our teaching here,
Which makes to blossom forth the powers of life.
Shall it then show the contrary in thee?
I see its fruitage in so many lives,
Which gather trustingly around me here.
Their former mode of life grows day by day
Strange and still stranger to such souls as these;
As well-springs are fresh opened in their hearts,
Thenceforth renewing life within themselves.
To gaze into the primal depths of being
Doth not create those passionate desires
Which torture and torment the souls of men.
(Exit.)

Johannes:
It took me many years to understand
And know the vanity of things of sense
When spirit-knowledge is not joined with them
In close and intimate companionship.
But that the words of highest wisdom's light
Uttered by thee, are empty vanity
One single moment hath sufficed to prove.

There are several reasons why it would seem a somewhat risky enterprise to speak about fairy tales in the light of spiritual science.

First of all, the subject is indeed difficult, for the source of what one can call the true fairy tale mood lies deep down within the human soul. The methods of spiritual science that I have often described must take their way along extremely convoluted and lengthy paths in order to find this source. We little suspect how deeply hidden lie the springs that have given rise through centuries of human history to all the enchantment of genuine fairy tale poetry.

In the second place, it is just this poetic enchantment that causes one to feel strongly about fairy tales; studying them or trying to explain them with one's own ideas must surely destroy their fresh spontaneity, yes, even the whole effect of the tales. We often hear it said quite rightly that explanations and commentaries of poetry spoil the immediate, lively, artistic impression that a poem should give us; we want it to affect us simply on its own. All the more should this apply to the infinitely subtle and bewitching quality of the poetic tales arising from the deep, almost bottomless springs of the folk soul or from single human hearts. They flow out in such an original way that intruding our own strong judgment would seem like tearing a flower to pieces.

Nevertheless, spiritual research does find it possible to throw some light into those regions of soul that give rise to the poetic mood of the fairy tale. In doing this, the second doubt will be allayed. Simply by searching out the sources and wellsprings from which fairy tales flow, deep down in human soul nature, we can be completely sure that the explanations of spiritual science will touch those depths so gently that they are not harmed. Just the opposite: the wonder of everything lying down there in the human soul is so new, so original, so individual that one has oneself to resort to a kind of fairy tale in speaking about it all; nothing else will do to describe these hidden springs.

Goethe, for one, moving beyond his work as an artist in order to plunge fully into the wellsprings and sources of life, would not take to theoretical discussion nor destroy the fairy tale's living water with his scrutiny when he wanted to reveal one of the most profound insights into the human soul. No, as soon as he had won these insights, it seemed natural to use the fairy tale itself to describe what lives and comes to expression in the soul at its deepest level. In his Tale of the Green Snake and the Beautiful Lily, Goethe tried to express in his own way the extraordinary soul experiences that Schiller brought forward in a more abstract, philosophical style in the Aesthetic Education of Man.

The very nature of fairy tale enchantment leads us to believe that explaining and trying to understand it will probably never destroy the creative mood; to dig down into those wellsprings with the resources of spiritual research is to discover something quite remarkable. If I were to talk about fairy tales as much as I'd like to do, I would have to give many lectures. Today it will be possible to bring only a few hints regarding the results of research.

A person who attempts the spiritual exploration of the fairy tale sources will find that they lie in far more profound depths of the soul than those from which other works of art emerge, even for instance, the most awe-inspiring tragic drama. In a tragedy, the poet shows us how the human soul experiences the gigantic powers of fate that exalt as well as crush their victim. Fate is the cause of the ordeals and shocks of tragedy. We find that the tangled threads woven together and then unraveled in tragic drama belong more or less to what an individual has to suffer from the outside world. However difficult this may be to discern, requiring as it does our finding the way into the uniqueness of a human soul, it is nevertheless quite possible for anyone sensitive to the impact of life itself upon the soul. A tragedy, we feel, shows us how an individual is entangled in this or that fateful life-situation.

However, the source of fairy tale mood and fairy tale poetry lies still deeper than the complexities of tragedy. For one thing, we can feel that tragedy concerns itself—as do other artistic creations—with an individual who in a certain period of life, at a certain age, is exposed to some kind of misfortune. We take it for granted that when tragic drama affects us, it is because a human being is brought through his own unique experiences to what is happening; we realize that it is one single person with his own special destiny that we must come to understand. Here, as in other works of art, we meet a particular, circumscribed sphere of life.

It is altogether different, we feel, when we come knowingly to fairy tale poetry and its mood. The effect of a fairy tale on our soul is spontaneous, elementary, and therefore remains unconscious. When we try to get a feeling for it, however, we can find that what a fairy tale expresses is not about one person in a particular situation in life, is not a limited portion of life, but rather something so integrated in human experience that it has to do with the comprehensive truth of all mankind. It is not about some special individual who finds himself at a certain time of life in a singular dilemma; what the fairy tale describes lies so completely in everyone's soul nature that it represents actual experience to children in their early years to persons of middle age and even to old men and women.

Throughout our whole lifetime the fairy tale happenings picture our most profound experiences of soul, even though the style is light, playful and picturesque. The artistic enjoyment of a fairy tale, in its correspondence to inner soul experiences, can be compared—a rather bold comparison—to the relationship of an enjoyable taste on the tongue to the hidden, complex proceedings in the rest of the body, where the food takes up its task of nourishing the organism. What lies in that further process, after our pleasure in its taste, is not at all evident to our observation or understanding. Both things seem at first to have little to do with each other; no one is able to say, from savoring a food, what its particular use will be in the life processes of the body. And so it is with our joy in the art of the fairy tale. It is far, far removed from what is happening at the same time, all unconsciously, deep in the soul. There the essence of the fairy tale is pouring forth, satisfying the soul's persistent hunger for it. Just as our body has to have nutritive substances circulating through the organism, the soul needs fairy tale substance flowing through its spiritual veins.

Using the methods of research described in my books as a way to approach the higher worlds, you will discover, at a certain level of spiritual knowledge, the spiritual processes working unconsciously in the depths of the soul. In our ordinary life we are aware of these spirit impulses within our soul only when they surface as gentle dreams, caught at rare times by our waking consciousness. Now and then we may have such a special waking up that we realize: You are emerging out of a spiritual world where there is thinking and where there are intentions, and where something was happening down in the unapproachable grounds of your existence that was somehow akin to daily happenings; this something seems an intimate part of your own being but is completely hidden from your waking, everyday life.

It is often the same story with the spiritual researcher, even when he has progressed as far as experiencing a world of spiritual beings and spiritual deeds. However much further he then advances, he nonetheless reaches again and again the same edge of a world out of whose deep unconsciousness there come towards him spiritual impulses, impulses connected with himself. They appear to his spiritual gaze like a Fata Morgana but they do not yield themselves up to him completely.

This very peculiar experience is what awaits one on looking into the unfathomable spiritual relationships belonging to the human soul. It is fairly easy to follow attentively and understand certain intimate soul happenings, for example, the emotional conflicts that also lie there within the soul and that are revealed in art, in tragic drama. But far more difficult are the quite common human conflicts, which in our daily life we simply cannot imagine are there, and yet every one of us undergoes them at every period of our life.

One such soul conflict discovered by spiritual research takes place without the ordinary consciousness being aware of it: our waking up every day, when the soul leaves the world it has been in during sleep and slips down into the physical body. As I said, we have normally not the slightest knowledge of this, yet every morning our soul is engaged in a battle that the spiritual researcher can catch only to a slight degree: it is the battle of the single, lonely human soul meeting the gigantic powers of nature. Thunder and lightning and everything else in the elements that we have to confront out in the world unload their great strengths on us as we stand there more or less helplessly. All that tremendous power, however, even when we meet it head on, is a small thing compared to the unconscious battle at the moment of waking up, when our soul—alive only to itself up to then—has to unite with the pressures and substances of a purely physical body. The soul needs this organism in order to use the bodily senses that are governed by the laws of nature and to use also the bodily limbs in which the powers of nature prevail. There is something like a yearning in the soul to dip down into this sheer natural state, a yearning satisfied each time by waking up, and yet at this very moment there is a shrinking back, a feeling of utter helplessness in the face of the eternal opposition existing between the soul and the nature-related physical body, into which one awakens. It may sound strange that this daily battle takes place in the depths of our soul—but then it takes place in complete unconsciousness. The soul knows nothing of what it has to undergo every single morning, but nevertheless it is burdened by the conflict, which affects its very nature and its individual character.

There is something else happening in these depths, which can be caught on the wing by spiritual research; it occurs at the moment of falling asleep. The human soul withdraws from the sense world and from the bodily limbs and has more or less left behind the physical body in the physical-sense world. Then there comes to the soul what one may describe as an awareness of its inwardness. At that moment it begins to experience unconsciously the inner battles caused by its constraint in a physical body in the waking state, where it has to act in consequence of its entanglement in matter. It is aware of its bent toward the burdensome sense-world, which, however, represses its morality. In falling asleep and during sleep, the soul is alone with itself and pervaded unconsciously by so moral an atmosphere that it can hardly be compared to the morality we know in ordinary life. Besides other impressions, it is this that the soul experiences when it is outside the physical body and living a purely spiritual existence between falling asleep and waking up.

We should not imagine that all these occurrences in our soul are simply absent when we are awake. Spiritual research can show one very interesting effect as an example: we do not dream only when we believe we are dreaming but we actually dream the whole day long. In truth, our soul is full of dreams all the time, even though we don't notice it, for our waking consciousness is more forceful than the dream consciousness. As a somewhat weak light is extinguished altogether in the presence of a stronger one, our day-consciousness extinguishes what is continually running parallel to it, the dream experience in the depths of our soul. We dream all the time, but we are seldom conscious of it. Out of those abundant and unconscious dream experiences—an infinitely greater number than our waking perceptions—a few rise up like single drops of water shaken out of an immense lake; these are the dreams we become conscious of. But the dreaming that stays unconscious is perceived by the soul spiritually. In its depths many things are being experienced. Just as chemical processes that we are unaware of take place in the body, there are spiritual experiences taking place within us in unconscious regions of the soul.

We can throw more light into these hidden depths of soul life by adding something else to the facts we have mentioned. It has often been emphasized, and especially so in my last lecture, [Raphaels Mission im Lichte der Wissenschaft vom Geiste (January 30, 1913); The Mission of Raphael (unpublished MS).] that in the course of evolution on earth, human soul life has undergone a complete change. When we look far, far back into the past of humankind, we find the soul of ancient man having totally different experiences from those today. In earlier lectures we spoke about early mankind's primitive clairvoyance; we will speak further about it in the future. We look out at the world today in the wide-awake condition of soul that is normal, taking in sense impressions from outer stimuli, working on them with our intelligence, reason, emotions, and will forces—but this form of consciousness is merely the one that holds good for the present day. This modern consciousness has developed out of the earlier forms in ancient days that we can call—in the best sense of the word—clairvoyant; people were able in certain intermediate conditions between waking and sleeping quite normally to experience something of the spiritual worlds. At that time a person, even though he could not become really conscious of himself, would not find the experiences we have been describing as taking place in the depths of the soul at all unfamiliar or strange.

In ancient times the human being could more fully perceive his union with the spiritual world outside himself. He saw how everything going on in his soul, the happenings deep in his soul, were related to certain spiritual realities alive in the universe. He saw these realities moving through his soul, felt closely related to the spirit-soul beings and realities of the universe. This was a characteristic of mankind's primeval clairvoyance. In ancient times, not only artists but quite primitive people frequently had a feeling that I am going to describe, which today we arrive at only in quite special moods.

It can really happen that, living gently in the depths of the soul, as gently as anything can be, there is an experience of the spiritual realities mentioned above, one that does not come to consciousness. Nothing of it is perceived in the wide-awake life of the day. But something is there in the soul, just as hunger often is there in the physical organism, and just as we have a need for something to satisfy our hunger, we have also a need for something to satisfy this delicate need in our soul.

It is at this moment that one feels urged either to come to a fairy tale or a legend that one knows, or else, perhaps, if one has an artistic nature, to create something of the kind oneself, even though one senses that all the words one could theoretically use would only reach a kind of stammering about such experiences. This is how the fairy tale images arise. The nourishment that satisfies the hunger we spoke of is just this conscious filling of the soul with fairy tale pictures. In the earlier times of mankind's evolution, the human soul was closer to a clairvoyant perception of its inner spiritual experiences; often, therefore, the simple country folk felt this hunger more distinctly than we do today, and this led them to search for nourishing pictures arising out of their creative soul life; we find these today in the fairy tales coming down to us as folk traditions in various parts of the world. In those earlier times the human soul felt its connection to spiritual existence and felt more or less consciously the inner battles it had to undergo, even without understanding them. The soul formed these into pictures and images which had only a distant resemblance to what was happening in its depths. But still one can feel that there is a connection between the happenings of a fairy tale and the unfathomable, profound experiences of the soul.

It is evident—many can confirm this—that the heart of a child often succeeds in creating for itself a comrade or “friend” who is present only for that child and who stays at its side through all its coming and going. Probably everyone knows children with such invisible spirit-friends. These unseen playmates you have to imagine as being with the child wherever he is, sharing all his joys and sorrows. And then you see someone coming along, a so-called “intelligent” person, who hears about this invisible playmate and tries to talk the child out of it, even believes it's a healthy thing he's doing—but it has a bad effect on the child's feeling-life. A child will grieve for his soul-comrade and if he is susceptible to spiritual-soul moods, the grief will be weighty and can develop into a pining away or sickliness. This is actual experience, related to deep, inward happenings of the human soul.

We can take to heart, without dispelling the fragrance of such a tale, the Grimms' story of the child and the paddock (a small frog). A little girl lets the paddock eat with her out of her bowl of bread and milk; the paddock only drinks the milk. The child talks to the little creature as to another human being, saying one day, “Eat the bread crumbs as well, little thing.” The mother hears this, comes out to the yard, and kills the paddock. And now the child loses her rosy cheeks, wastes away and dies.

In this tale we can feel an echo of certain moods that really and truly are present in the depths of our soul. They are there not only at certain periods of our life, but whether we are children or adults, we recognize such moods because we are human beings.

Every one of us can feel reverberating in us how this something we experience but don't understand, something we don't even bring to consciousness, is connected with the effect of the fairy tale on our soul like the taste of food on our tongue. And then the fairy tale becomes for the soul very much like nutritious food when it is put to use by the whole organism. It is tempting to search in these deep-lying soul experiences for what reverberates in each different tale. Of course it would be a tremendous task over a long time, given the great collections of fairy tales from everywhere in the world, to probe into them just for this. However, what can be looked at in a few tales can be used in a general way for all of them, if the few are genuine fairy tales.

Take one of the stories that the brothers Grimm collected, “Rumpelstiltskin”. When a miller claims that his daughter can spin straw into gold, the king has him bring her to the castle in order to test her art. She comes to the king, is locked in a room with a bundle of straw and “there sat the poor miller's daughter and for the life of her could not tell what to do”. As she begins to weep, there appears a little man who says, “What will you give me if I spin the straw into gold for you?” The girl gives him her necklace and the little man spins the straw into gold. The king next morning is astonished and delighted but wants more; she should spin straw into gold again. She is locked in another room with even more straw, and when the little man appears again and asks, “What will you give me if I spin the straw into gold for you?” she gives him her ring. By morning all the straw is spun into glittering gold. But the king is still not satisfied. The manikin comes again, but now the girl has nothing more to give him. “Then promise me, if you should become queen, to give me your first child,” says the little man, and so she promises. And when, after a year, the child is there and the manikin comes and reminds the queen of her promise, she begs him to wait. “I will give you three days' time,” he replies. “If you know my name by that time, you shall keep your child.” The miller's daughter sends messengers far and wide. She must find every name and also the particular name of the little man. Finally, after several wrong guesses, she succeeds in naming the little man by his right name: Rumpelstiltskin.

No other work of art gives us the feeling of utmost inner joy as the fairy tale with its unsophisticated pictures, yet we can also know the deep soul experience from which such a tale arises. It is a prosaic but accurate comparison to say, we can know a great deal about the chemistry of our food and still take pleasure in something delicious we're eating. And so we can know and understand something about these deep inner soul experiences in us that are felt but not “known”—and that emerge as the pictures of fairy tales.

Indeed our solitary soul, this miller's daughter, is a lonely thing, both in sleep and in waking life, even though she is harbored in our body. The soul feels (but unconsciously) the great antithesis she has to live in; she experiences (but does not understand) her unending task, her own anchorage in divine worlds.

The soul will always be aware of other insignificant abilities in comparison to those of outside nature. Nature is the mighty enchantress, who can transform one thing into another in a trice—something the soul would like to be and do.

In everyday consciousness, one can submit with a good grace to this disparity between the human being and the omnipotent wisdom of the spirit of nature. In the depths of the soul, however, things are not so simple. The soul would certainly come to grief if she did not surmise that within her own conscious being a still deeper being is present, something she can trust, something she might be able to describe like this:

You, Soul, are still at such an imperfect stage—but there is something in you, another entity, who is far more clever than you, who can help you to accomplish the most difficult tasks and give you wings to rise up and look over wide perspectives into an infinite future. Someday you will be able to do what is still impossible, for there is something within you that is far, far greater than the part of you now that “knows”; it will be a loyal helper if you can enter into an alliance with it. But you must truly be able to form a concept of this creature who lives within you and is so much wiser, cleverer, more skilful than you are yourself.

When you try to imagine this conversation of the soul with itself, an unconscious conversation with the more capable part of the soul, you can then try to catch this nuance in the Rumpelstiltskin fairy tale: what the miller's daughter had to experience in not being able to spin straw into gold and then finding a loyal helper in the little manikin. It is impossible to blow away the fragrance of those pictures, even when we know their origin, deep down in our soul life. Let us take another tale. Please forgive me if it is connected with things that seem to have a personal coloring; it is not meant to be personal. It makes it somewhat easier to explain if I add this small personal note.

In my book Occult Science [ An Outline of Occult Science, Anthroposophic Press, New York, 1972.] you will find a description of the evolution of the world. I don't intend to speak about it now—possibly on another occasion. During this evolution of the world our earth has passed through certain stages as a planet in the universe, and these stages can be compared to the stages of life in the individual human being. Just as individuals go through one life after another, the earth itself has had various planetary stages or embodiments. In spiritual science, for certain reasons, we speak about the earth—before its “earth” stage began—as having a “moon” stage and before that, a “sun” stage. There was a sun evolutionary period as a planetary pre-stage of our earth in the primordial past; an ancient sun was still united with the earth, from which—at a later stage—it split away. The moon also split away from what originally was the sun. Our sun today is not the original one but only a piece of it; we can speak of an ancient sun-stage of the earth and also of our present sun. Spiritual research can look back to the time in earth evolution when the second sun, our present one, developed as an independent body in the universe. In searching for the existence at that time of beings actually perceptible to the senses, it finds only the lower species up to the level of the fishes.

You can read all this in more detail in Occult Science, and there you will be able to understand it. The actual details, however, can be found only through the scientific methods of spiritual research. At the time they were discovered and I wrote them down (more precisely, they were not discovered just when I wrote them down but they were, one can say, discovered for me and I wrote them down in Occult Science) the following fairy tale was quite unknown to me—and this is the personal note I wanted to add. I can verify the fact that it was unknown then, for I found it much later in Wundt's Elements of Folk Psychology and traced it then back to its source.

Before I give you a short summary of the fairy tale, let me say this: Everything the spiritual researcher finds in the spiritual world—and what was just described had to be found in the spiritual world, for otherwise it would no longer exist—everything in that world is very much connected with the human soul. In the very deepest roots of our soul we are united with that world. It is always at hand; we enter it unconsciously as soon as we fall asleep in a normal way. In our union with that world, our soul holds within itself not only its sleep experiences but also all those experiences related to world evolution as we have described them. It is a paradox but one can say that the soul knows unconsciously that it experienced the stream of evolution from the original sun to its daughter, the sun we see shining in the sky, and to the moon that is also a child of the original sun. Moreover, the soul can recognize that it was living through a soul-spiritual existence at that time, for it was not yet united with earthly substance. It could look down then on earthly happenings, for example, when the highest animal organisms were the fish-prototypes, at the time when the present sun and moon developed by separating from the earth. In the unconscious, the soul is connected with these happenings.

Now look at this short folk tale that can be found among several primitive peoples: There was once a man who was made of resin. He worked only at night. If he had worked in the daytime, the sun would have melted him. One day, however, he did go outside, for he wanted to catch some fish. And lo! the man made of resin melted away. His sons made up their minds to take revenge. They shot off their arrows. They shot so well that the arrows formed figures, towering one above the other. They became a ladder, reaching right up into the sky. The two sons climbed up the ladder, one by day, the other by night. And one son became the sun, the other son became the moon.

It is not my custom to explain such tales with abstract, intellectual ideas. Everyone can realize, however, through spiritual research how the human soul is deeply connected with everything happening in the world, how the soul can be understood only through spiritual means, and how it hungers to enjoy the picture-images of its unconscious experiences—this is truly different. If you feel this, you will also feel, vibrating like an echo of this folk tale, just what human souls experienced at the time of the primordial sun and then at the origin of the sun and moon during the time of fish-development in earth evolution. It was for me a most important event—and this is the personal note—to discover, long after these things were described in Occult Science, this particular tale. Even though I would never wish to explain it in an abstract way, a certain feeling comes over me when I look at the evolution of the world, a feeling that is twin-brother to the one I get from immersing myself in the wonderful picture-images of the folk tale.

We can look at another story, this one from the Melanesian Islands. Before we hear it, let us recall that according to spiritual research the human soul is closely connected to the present-day happenings and facts of the universe. It may be too picturesque, but nevertheless quite correct from the spiritual-scientific standpoint, to describe the life of the soul when it leaves the body in sleep as completely related to and united with the whole universe. One possibility of remembering or understanding this relationship of our ego, for example, to the cosmos, at least to something significant in the cosmos is to look at the plants. They can grow only when they have the light and warmth of the sun. They are rooted in the earth and consist, as spiritual science tells us, of a physical body interwoven by an etheric body. This is not enough, however, to cause the plants to unfold and blossom; they must also have the forces of the sun shining down on them.

Looking at the human body during sleep, we see to some degree its equivalence to a plant. Our sleeping body is like a plant, in that it has the same power to grow. But the human being has freed himself from the cosmic order in which the plant is caught. A plant has to wait for sunlight to come to it, the rising and setting of the sun. It is dependent, as we humans are not, on the external cosmic order. Why are we not? Because of a fact that spiritual research has discovered, that the human ego, which in sleep is outside the plant-like body, unfolds for the body what the sun unfolds for the plant. The sun pours its light over the plant; the human ego shines too, resting spiritually over the sleeping body. And the human ego is related to the life of the sun; it is itself a kind of sun for the plant-like human body, engendering its growth during sleep, repairing its various forces that have been used up during the daytime. In perceiving this, we realize how much like the sun our ego is. As the sun moves across the sky—of course I am speaking of its apparent movement—the effect of the sun's rays changes according to the constellations of the zodiac from which they come to earth. In the same way, spiritual science shows us ever more clearly that the human ego passes through the various phases of its experience; the physical body is influenced according to each aspect. We perceive the sun's effect on earth, with the help of spiritual science, according to whether it is passing through Aries, or Taurus, or any other constellation. Rather than refer to the sun in general terms, it is preferable to describe the effect of the sun from one of the twelve constellations of the zodiac. As we consider the sun's passage through the constellations, we become aware of its relationship to the ever-changing ego.

All this is described much more fully in Occult Science; it can be acquired as spirit-soul knowledge. We can perceive it as something that takes place unconsciously in the depths of the soul and yet takes place as an inward involvement with the spiritual powers of the cosmos alive in the planets and constellations.

Let us compare these secrets of the universe, disclosed by spiritual science, with the following Melanesian tale, which I will sketch very briefly.

In the road is a stone. The stone is the mother of Quatl, and Quatl has eleven brothers. After Quatl and his brothers were created, Quatl began to create the world. But in this world that Quatl created, there was no change of night and day. Quatl heard about an island where there was a difference between the day and the night. He traveled to that island and brought a host of beings back to his own land. And through the power of these beings, those in Quatl's land came into the alternation of sleeping and waking. Sunrise and sunset occurred for them as soul happenings.

It is amazing what vibrates as echo from this story. If you read the whole thing, you will find that every sentence vibrates with the tones of world secrets, just as our soul vibrates in its depths when it hears how spiritual science describes those secrets. It is true: the source of fairy tale mood and fairy tale poetry lies in the depths of the human soul! The tales are simply pictures using external happenings to help characterize the soul experiences we have described; the pictures are nourishment for the hunger arising from these experiences. This must also be true: we are quite distant from the experience but nevertheless we can feel them echoing in the fairy tale picture-images.

When all this has been said, we should not be surprised to find that the most beautiful and characteristic fairy tales have come to us from those very early times when human beings had a certain clairvoyant consciousness. Because of this, they were able to come close to the wellsprings of fairy tale mood and poetry; it is not at all strange that from those parts of the earth where souls are closer to spiritual sources than in the western world, for example in India or the Orient, fairy tales can have an especially distinctive character.

Furthermore, in German we find Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm's Children's and Household Tales, which they collected by listening to their relatives or other more or less simple, unsophisticated people telling stories that remind us of the ancient European sagas; even the fairy tales contain elements of the great stories of heroes and gods. We should not be surprised to hear that the most significant fairy tales have now been proven older than the sagas. The hero stories, after all, describe someone at a certain time of life in a particular difficulty, while the fairy tales show us what is relevant to every single person at every period of life from his first breath to his last. Then we understand how a fairy tale can press into itself the deep-seated soul experience on awakening from sleep, of feeling completely inadequate in the face of the powers of nature; how, too, one feels equal to it only with the consoling knowledge that something greater than oneself is present in the soul that may even allow one to triumph over the forces of nature.

When you have a feeling like this, you will understand why there are so many giants that have to be dealt with in the tales. Indeed, they make their appearance without fail as an image out of the soul's mood on waking up—of its wanting to enter the body and seeing the “gigantic” forces of nature alive there. The battle the soul has to undergo is exactly what corresponds—though this cannot be understood perhaps with the intellect—to the various descriptions of people having to fight giants. The soul realizes when confronted by battles with giants that it has only one advantage—and that is its cleverness. This is the soul's perception: You can slip into your body but what can you do about those tremendous forces of the universe? Why, there's one thing the giants don't have that you do have ... cleverness! reason! Unconsciously this lives in the soul even when it realizes the small strength it has; we find that the soul, put into this position, can express itself in the following pictures:

A man was going along the road. He came to an inn, went in, and asked for a bowl of milk soup. Flies by the dozen were buzzing around; some fell into the soup, the others he swatted. When he counted a hundred dead flies on the table, he boasted, “A hundred with one blow!” The innkeeper hung a medallion around his neck that said: He killed a hundred with one blow.

The man went further and came to a castle where the king was looking out of his window. When he caught sight of the wayfarer and his medallion, the king thought to himself, “This is a fellow I can make use of!” The king hurried out and took the man into his service to do a certain task. “There is a pack of bears coming ever and again into my kingdom. Look! if you've killed a hundred with one blow, you can put an end to those bears.” The man said, “I'll do it!” But first he demanded his wages and plenty of food before the bears should arrive, for he thought he might as well enjoy his life for a while, in case it should be cut short. Now came the time when the bears were expected; he collected together all the sweet things bears like to eat, and laid them ready.

The bears came, ate up everything they found and were so well stuffed that they had to lie down to sleep off their greed. And now as they lay helpless, the man came and finished them off. When the King arrived, the man told him, “I simply chopped off their heads while they jumped over my stick!” The King was delighted with this brave fellow and gave him a still harder task. “Look! The giants will soon be coming back into my kingdom. You must help me with them.” The man promised and when the time came, he collected a great amount of good things to eat, which he took along with him, besides a young lark and a piece of cheese. Sure enough, he met the giants and began to boast about how strong he was. One of them said, “We'll show you how much stronger we are!” Taking up a stone, he squeezed it into a powder. “Do that likewise, little man, if you're as strong as we are.” The other giant aimed an arrow up into the sky, shot it off, and only after a very long time, it dropped down again. “Do that likewise, little man, if you're as strong as we are.” At that, the man who had killed a hundred with one blow told them, “I can do better than that.” He took up a stone, stuck his piece of cheese on it and said, “Watch me press water out of the stone!” Sure enough, when he squeezed, water squirted out of the cheese. The giants were astonished. Then the man took the lark and let it fly upwards, saying, “Your arrow came back, but mine will go up so high that it never comes back!” Sure enough, the lark did not return. The giants were so astonished that they decided that they would have to overcome him with cunning, for it seemed that they couldn't manage it with strength. However, they failed to get the better of the man with cunning, for he got the better of them. They lay down together to sleep and in the dark the man put over his head a pig's bladder that was blown up and filled with blood. The giants told one another, “We can't overcome him when he's awake, so we'll have to wait until he sleeps.” As soon as he was asleep, they attacked him with great blows on the head and broke the pig's bladder. The blood gushed out; the giants were sure they had finished him off. Therefore they laid themselves to rest and slept so peacefully that it was easy for the man to put an end to them.

Just as it is in dreams, this fairy tale peters out in a somewhat vague, unsatisfactory way; nevertheless we do find in it the conflict of the human soul with the forces of nature, first with the “Bears” and then with the “Giants.” But something more is in the fairy tale. The man who “killed a hundred with one blow” stands out so clearly that we feel something vibrating in the unconscious depths of our soul to the utter trust he had in his cleverness, even in the face of those powerful forces he found so “gigantic.” It is wrong to try to explain in abstract detail the picture-images created with such artistry, and this is not the intention here. Nothing actually can disturb the character of a fairy tale if you feel how it echoes our inward soul processes. And these inner processes—however much one knows about them, however much as spiritual science itself can know about them—you do become ever and again entangled in them; then, experiencing them in a fairy tale, you see them in their most elemental, primary form. Knowledge of these soul-happenings, when it is present, does not destroy the ability to transform them into fairy tale magic.

It is certainly stimulating for the spiritual researcher to discover in fairy tales just what the human soul has need of when confronting its innermost experiences. The fairy tale mood can never be disturbed, for research that is able to arrive at the wellsprings of the tales in subconscious life will find there something that becomes poorer for the ordinary consciousness when it is described abstractly. The fairy tale itself is the most perfect description of these deepest of soul experiences. Now one can understand why Goethe put into the manifold eloquent picture-images of his Tale of the Green Snake and the Beautiful Lily the rich experiences of life that Schiller expressed in abstract philosophical terms. It was pictures that Goethe wanted to use—even though he was otherwise very much given to thought—in order to express his most profound perception of the subconscious roots of human soul life.

Because fairy tales belong to our innermost feeling and emotional life and to everything connected with it, they are of all forms of literature the most appropriate for children's hearts and minds. It is evident that they are able to combine the richest spiritual wisdom with the simplest manner of expression. One has the feeling that in the magnificent world of art there is no greater art than this one, which traces the path from the unknown, unknowable depths of the soul to the charming and often playful fairy tale pictures.

When what is most difficult to understand is able to be put in the most clearly perceptible form, the result will be great art, intrinsic art, art that belongs at a fundamental level to the human being. Human nature in the child is linked to the life of the whole world in such a primary way that children must have fairy tales as soul-nourishment. The expression of spiritual force can move much more freely when it comes towards a child. It should not be entangled in abstract, theoretical ideas if the child's soul is not to become dry and disturbed, instead of remaining linked to the deep roots of human life.

Therefore there is nothing of greater blessing for a child than to nourish it with everything that brings the roots of human life together with those of cosmic life. A child is still having to work creatively, forming itself, bringing about the growth of its body, unfolding its inner tendencies; it needs the wonderful soul-nourishment it finds in fairy tale pictures, for in them the child's roots are united with the life of the world. Even we adults, given to reason and intelligence, can never be torn away from these roots of existence; we are most connected with them just when we have to be fully involved with the life of the time. Therefore at various parts of our life, if we have a healthy, open-hearted mind, we will happily turn back to fairy tales. Certainly there is not a single age or stage of human life that can take us away from what flows out of a fairy tale, for otherwise we would be giving up the deepest and most important part of our nature; we would be giving up what is incomprehensible for the intellect: a sensing within ourselves, a sense for what is pictured in a simple fairy tale and in the simple, artless, primordial fairy tale mood.

The brothers Grimm, and other collectors like them, devoted long years to bringing the world the somewhat civilized fairy tales they had gathered out of the folk tradition. Although they had no help from spiritual science, they lived wholeheartedly with these tales, convinced that they were giving human beings what belonged intrinsically to human nature itself. When you know this, you will understand that although the age of reason did its best for a hundred years or so to alienate everyone, even children, away from fairy tales, now things are changing. Fairy tale collections like the Grimms' have found their way to every person who is alive to such things; they have become the property and treasure of every child's heart, yes, property of all our hearts. This will grow even stronger when spiritual science is no longer considered just a theory but becomes a mood of soul, one that will lead the soul perceptively towards its spiritual roots. Then spiritual science, moving and spreading outwards, will be able to confirm everything that the genuine fairy tale collectors, fairy tale lovers, fairy tale tellers wanted to do.

To sum up what spiritual science would like to say today in describing the fairy tale, we can take the poetic and charming tribute that a devoted friend of the tales [Ludwig Laistner (1848 – 1896)] liked to use in his lectures, some of which I was able to hear. He was a man who understood how to collect the tales and how to value them.

“The fairy tale is like a good angel, given us at birth to go with us from our home to our earthly path through life, to be our trusted comrade throughout the journey and to give us angelic companionship, so that our life itself can become a truly heart- and soul-enlivened fairy tale!”

Dear attendees! With regard to the historical life of humanity and the understanding of this historical life, as it was striven for in its time and is still striven for in our time in much the same way, Goethe made a significant statement that can force one to reflect. He said that the best thing about history is the enthusiasm it arouses. If one is accustomed to seeking in Goethe's sayings the result of his deep experience of life, his wisdom, then this saying in particular can certainly give rise to much reflection. And if one that one can have in relation to what is called historical knowledge, if one goes to certain experiences, then one certainly comes to an insight that can lead to what Goethe might actually have meant.

Historical knowledge – it may be said that, especially in the course of the last century, great human acumen, great scholarly care and conscientiousness have been applied to it. And it is not a frivolous criticism of the historical judgment that people have acquired when I point out how little, especially in tricky cases, what is called history to this day serves when it comes to gaining a judgment from history, as such a judgment demands of us in real, true life. In our catastrophic times, every thinking person is often confronted with considerations that suggest to him the question: What does historical knowledge say about the truly far-reaching events of this or that day, which are so frequent after all, what does historical knowledge say?

I would just like to give an example, by way of introduction, of how truly not to be taken lightly and not to be considered merely as theorists, but as very serious people who believed that they could form a truly sound judgment from the study of history. At the beginning of this catastrophic period of war, have come to the conclusion that this world-cataclysm could not last longer, in view of the general conditions which have developed in the social and moral life of mankind, and which have been recognized by the study of history. They thought that this catastrophic clash of humanity could not last longer than four to six months. This is what people who, in a sense, had already formed a justified judgment from history and who were also quite close to practical life thought in August, September and so on in 1914. And what did reality, what did life say to this judgment? This can certainly make one think, it can certainly draw attention to whether the historical approach, as one is accustomed to, is in fact suitable for forming a judgment, how reality seriously challenges such judgments.

Yes, esteemed attendees, I would like to mention another similar one – hundreds and thousands of examples could be given in this direction – I will mention another one that was given by a personality whose genius no one can doubt; a personality who felt called upon to ask himself the question: What does history say about human life in modern times? This question was posed to him when he took up his university professorship, and this personality who made this judgment is none other than Friedrich Schiller. And what judgment did Friedrich Schiller give when he felt compelled to instinctively express the effect of historical study on his soul in his inaugural lecture? Schiller said, back in 1789: History teaches that the peoples of European humanity have finally emerged as one big family, within which there may well still be these or those differences, but within which it could never again happen that they tear each other apart.

This judgment was delivered by none other than Friedrich Schiller, just before the outbreak of the French Revolution, the great clashes in Europe that followed. And if you add to that what has happened to this day, then Friedrich Schiller's judgment is also shown in a peculiar light. One can say: Because perhaps Goethe, in his wisdom, looked deeper into human life and existence, he did not seek what history, as it confronted him, could offer in a judgment that could be learned, but rather, Goethe sought the fruit of history, perhaps for good reasons, in an impulse that goes deeper in man than into the mind, deeper than into the outer intellect. He sought the fruit of history in the seizure of the whole soul with enthusiasm.

And perhaps today's reflections can be suitable to develop and expand this judgment of Goethe and to show it in all its reality. For I would like to base today's reflections on the question: What does science, which we have been accustomed to considering as history, offer in comparison to what reality demands of us? One could say: Precisely when we consider life in its various forms, this life in its various forms perhaps indicates in a meaningful way something extraordinarily instructive in a deeper sense by what has emerged as a historical judgment itself.

Therefore, I will start from the perspective and way of thinking of two historians, observers of history, who in their mental peculiarity are as far apart as can be imagined; but the present day really does demand a way of looking at things that is different from the kind that only wants to dwell on what can be grasped in the surrounding area, to the extent that you can see the church tower of the place. The events of today, of the immediate present, however, demand of us that we broaden the horizon of our consideration to include the whole earth, and so I would like to preface my today's consideration with that which two very different personalities had to think about history in a particular case in a particular field.

The first personality is the late Karl Lamprecht, a retired professor of history at the University of Leipzig. He summarized what he had to say after a lifetime of research devoted to the history of the German people in a short extract – which is why it is so instructive. He had summarized what he had to say about the developmental forces of his people summarized it in the way he believed he had to summarize it, especially for a foreign population, for a foreign audience; for I base this consideration on the lecture he held in 1904 at the World's Fair in St. Louis and at the invitation of Columbia University in New York. Karl Lamprecht spoke there about the driving forces behind the development of the German people from the beginnings that the historian can penetrate, the first Christian centuries, to the present.

And I would like to parallel this form with the way of presentation that a mind has given, which has grown out of Central European folklore and that which experiences this Central European folklore as its history. I would like to parallelize this with the peculiar way of thinking of another man, who is also a historian in a certain sense, with the way of thinking of Woodrow Wilson, who spoke almost at the same time about the same subject, but with reference to his American people. I cannot think of anything more characteristic for those who want to gain insight into the way history is sought on earth today than what results from comparing the historical view of their own people in these two personalities.

Karl Lamprecht attempts to go beyond the old English and Rankean views of history, which rely only on external documents. He tries to turn his attention to the inner driving forces of historical development, to that which cannot be found merely in external records, but which can be found if one wants to penetrate into the soul life of the people, seeking the deeper forces that condition historical development. Karl Lamprecht comes to many interesting conclusions. He says: If we look back at the earliest development of the German people, we find that by the third century A.D. a peculiar kind of emotional power and its effects had developed in the soul of this people. If we examine the various areas in which these powers were expressed in this ancient time, whether in the , in the military, in the state, in the social sphere, in the artistic sphere, in a primitive way, as it was then, one must say: the people of the German nation lived in such a way back then that they shaped their social life and their social work out of a certain symbolist, emblem-forming disposition. Not only did they try to depict world events in symbols in primitive art, they also lived from person to person in such a way that the symbolic nature shaped these experiences. For example, one identified with the leaders of the people, seeing in these leaders of the people symbols of the whole nation, and this, says Karl Lamprecht, meant that at that time what can be described as the military-comradely principle emerged in the moral, in the social togetherness.

Then, Karl Lamprecht believed, what lives as an inner impulse in historical becoming is replaced by another form of emotional power, which then comes to shape the configuration of German development up to the eleventh century. This symbolist, symbol-forming emotional nature is replaced by the typifying one. Now it is no longer imagination that is at work, but reason. It attempts to find types in the individual phenomena, representatives of a whole, not symbols, but types; even in the individual personality who is leading, one sees the type for the other people. Military-comradely life changes, while this disposition changes, into a more cooperative way of living together, where the rational, the reasonable, already has more influence on the imaginative, also in the social, moral structure of human coexistence. But the impulses are still elementary, primitive, arising from the will in this time.

Then, according to Karl Lamprecht, we can see very clearly an age in which quite different impulses prevail in the soul forces. It begins in the tenth or eleventh century, continues until the middle of the fifteenth century, and I would ask you to bear in mind that Karl Lamprecht's historical instinct led him to set the middle of the fifteenth century as the end of what he begins in the eleventh century and calls the conventional age. Whereas in the past the moral and social structure of human beings was shaped out of certain necessities, he argues, consideration is now entering into the structure, although the old remains: conventions. Contractually, cooperative life is formed between person and person, society and society, which differentiates people even less, creates powerful differences through this conventionality, and divides people into classes; knighthood and urbanity, knighthood and bourgeoisie develop under the influence of conventional impulses. Landlordry and serfdom emerge as a social-moral structure in relation to the manorial system and the lease relationship, which were already present earlier. But in the social-moral, the social configuration of the relationship of domination and the relationship of servitude is structured by this purely externally necessary configuration in the ownership structure.

Then Karl Lamprecht, by always also observing how the various artistic achievements emerge from the same impulses, finds that what he now calls the individualistic age begins in the middle of the fifteenth century. Now, he says, the assertion of the individual comes first. Before that, the individual works more out of the whole, out of the whole that is grasped in conventions, for example in the last [era]. Now the individual asserts himself and in the individual gradually, namely, the rational, the intellectual element. And it is quite interesting – to a certain extent – how Karl Lamprecht shows for individual areas of life how this understanding comes up with the intellectual from the mid-fifteenth century. It is quite interesting when Karl Lamprecht goes into this area in detail. For example, when he shows how the diplomatic and political relationships between different people in earlier ages arose out of elementary impulses of will and feeling, whereas now the diplomatic and political is submerged in intellectualism and begins to be determined by the intellect. Karl Lamprecht then allows this age to last until about the middle of the eighteenth century.

Then he begins the era that, in his opinion, continues to the present day and in which we ourselves are living: the subjective era, the individualistic era. From the fifteenth to the eighteenth century, the human individual remains on the scene; but this individual does not yet act through his internalized powers. Subjectivity, inwardness, first appears around the middle of the eighteenth century and then constitutes the actually decisive factor in the impulsive forces of the development of the German people. This subjectivism is particularly evident in the great, classical achievements, and so on, and so on.

I cannot go into the details. I just wanted to point out how, in the present day, the old historical view of Ranke and others has given rise to the endeavour to grasp inwardly what is alive in the course of historical development. It must be said that one is highly unsatisfied in many, many respects when one allows Karl Lamprecht's way of looking at things to take effect on oneself. It often gives the impression of a chaotic, confused presentation; but one sees in it the direct personal and most intimate struggle with certain forces that are sought, that are to be realized in that which then externally reveals itself as historical becoming. One has the feeling that someone is searching, but is not yet able to find what he is looking for due to the given time conditions.

If we now compare this kind of personal search by the German scientist with Woodrow Wilson's approach, something extraordinarily interesting emerges. I do not wish to be misunderstood, either way. I do not want what I say to be interpreted in a one-sided chauvinistic way, nor do I want to leave any doubt as to how I actually feel about Woodrow Wilson with regard to what I have to say. I have, dear ladies and gentlemen, characterized the whole nature of Woodrow Wilson before it was as obvious to characterize him as an opponent as it is today, namely long before the events that occurred in July 1914 In a series of lectures which I delivered in Helsingfors before the war, I pointed this out at a time when everything was still full of admiration for this new, great world view of Wilson's, even in our country. What is not admired in this day and age, if one is not pushed aside by some circumstances? When people were still admiring the greatness and novelty of Wilson's world view, I pointed out how limited, how narrow-minded, how incapable of penetrating the true impulses of reality the way of thinking of this personality in particular is, and how infinitely regrettable it is that the impulses of the times have truly not placed a way of thinking of such limitedness in a most important post of modern times for the benefit of humanity. I do not believe, therefore, that I am misunderstood if I attempt in an objective manner to characterize that which is now to characterize in its own way that which, like Karl Lamprecht for his people, Wilson has said for his Americans.

It must first be noted that this lecture, which Wilson gave on the development of the American people, provides a remarkable piece of powerful insight into the way the Americans have developed historically. Curiously, Wilson shows how the perspective he has acquired for the development of his people leads him to the salient points where it becomes clear to him how the American has become American historically. So let me also briefly characterize that.

Wilson points out that those who have completely false views about the development of the Americans are those who, like the English who settled in America's east, look at this development of the American people. Wilson rejects this English way of looking at things; he also rejects the one that comes more from the southern states; he points out that what has made the American an American, what is at the heart of the history of the American people, lies in what emerged when the American East advanced against the West , when this mixture of peoples, formed from Scandinavians, English, Germans, Russians, Latin peoples and so on, when this mixture of peoples moved from the east to the American west, that which had not yet been cultivated, cultivated, overcame the old wilderness. Not what was brought from Europe, but what was appropriated in the struggle with the wilderness by a mixture of peoples, that is the starting point, that made the American, whom he, as one can feel, accurately describes, with his adventurous spirit for everything that quickly arises and is quickly seized upon, with the homelessness that awakens plans that are not tied to a homeland but can be carried out anywhere, and so on, and so on. The cattle driver, he says, not the statesman, the woodsman, the hunter, not the statesman, is what the American has produced from the mixture of peoples in the advance from the east to the west in the course of the nineteenth century.

And his portrayal is, it must be said, accurate for this American people. He presents all the details that are otherwise usually viewed differently and that form the content of the social and moral history of America, of the United States, in the light of this approach. The tariff question, the land distribution question, and even the slave question – he shows that all three of these most important questions took on their particular form, their social and moral structure, through what he calls the conquest of the West from the East.

You could say: a powerful judgment! But it is precisely this judgment that is very instructive, and you have seen from the words I have mentioned before that, in my way of looking at things, Wilson is not a particularly likeable personality; but nevertheless, as I delved deeper and deeper into what actually underlies his way of thinking, something very peculiar presented itself to me. I had to ask myself: What about the peculiar impact of Woodrow Wilson's historical judgment? I tried to remember, to compare with the historical judgment of a personality whom I particularly appreciate and who has grown out of the latest phase of German intellectual life, I tried to compare Wilson with the peculiar way of his sentence formation and so on with Hermann Grimm, who only looked at history in terms of artistic phenomena. But he himself once explained to me, when I spoke to him personally, how he actually had in mind a comprehensive historical view that really, as far as he was able, wanted to go into a kind of intellectual grasp, intellectual consideration of the world of facts. I had to compare – the subject itself demanded it – some of Wilson's work with some of Hermann Grimm's.

The strange thing turned out to be that I was extremely surprised: some sentences could be taken as they stand in Wilson, could be taken and translated, and translated over into works by Hermann Grimm. According to their wording, they fit well. And conversely, one can take sentences as they stand in Hermann Grimm and translate and place them in Wilson's treatises. They fit in. The sentences are interchangeable. This peculiar fact presented itself to me, turned out. All the more reason to go into the psychological underpinnings, which are at issue here. In Hermann Grimm's work – and the same can be seen in Karl Lamprecht – there is a personal struggle for historical judgment. Everything that such personalities say is individually, personally experienced and fought for, is a direct personal experience in the inner struggle with the meaning of the facts. You get this feeling when you look at things quite objectively. What about Wilson? Especially where he judges so accurately, the matter is quite different. I am not afraid, because I believe that after my lecture the day before yesterday, I cannot be misunderstood with such remarks in terms of terminology. I am not afraid to use an expression that is very often interpreted in a superstitious sense, but certainly not by me, but in a strictly scientific sense, as I showed the day before yesterday. With Wilson, when you penetrate into the structure of his sentences, into the wording of his sentences, you have the insight: what he says, he does not say in the immediate struggle of the individual personality with the matter, with the object, but says it as if he this view as if he were possessed by an unknown power, as if possessed by something to which the soul is only remotely connected, which dawns in the soul from special irrational depths, whereby one is not completely aware of what one is possessed by. And I must say: when you take the accurate judgment that Wilson gives about the American national character from this development of his historical view, one feels, I would say, the exterior of the American, which he indicates there, something of this obsession with judgment. The “rapid mobility of the eye”; compare this, if one may say so, with the extraordinary calmness of the eye of a human observer such as Herman Grimm or other Central European human observers, who, although they fight with all their souls for their judgment, for their judgment, but who reflect the calmness in the eye, which has nothing of that mobility of the eye through which that which the soul is obsessed with, and also the other characteristics, which Woodrow Wilson means.

From such an example, dear attendees, we can learn something extraordinarily important for the present. Our present, of course, considers itself to be so extraordinarily practical, considers itself to be so akin to reality and realistic in its judgment; but our present is in fact excessively theoretical in a certain respect; for it is mostly clear about this: When two people say something with the same wording, they are saying the same thing. Nevertheless, you can be as different as possible by saying things that have the same wording. You only get to the reality of people when you are able to see the right reality behind the thing I just mentioned.

Those who establish a position of confession or opposition only on the basis of wording no longer meet reality. Today, if you want to go along with the impulses that the times demand of us, you have to develop something deeper in your soul than the mere intellectual and rational assimilation of a wording. Today, wordings no longer form the content of world views, because such a wording can be fought for in every single idea of the individual soul. Then, through the way it is said, it must be possible to become a participant in what is going on in the soul. Or such a wording can make the soul obsessed; then again one must be able to look deeper into some things that are empty and barren, even if, as is strikingly the case with Woodrow Wilson and Hermann Grimm, the sentences are interchangeable. And perhaps in no other field than where the present is viewed historically can one have such experiences.

It is interesting that the German scholar Karl Lamprecht is pushed by a certain instinct to base historical observation on spiritual forces; but he leaves something unsatisfied. Why? He is left unsatisfied because he turns to the soul study, the official soul study, by which he is surrounded in the present. He turns to the soul researchers who have emerged from the ranks of official philosophy today. He asks them: What goes on in the soul of the individual human being? That is already the new thing. But he starts from a great error. Even if one were to assume, which of course the spiritual researcher cannot assume, even if one were to assume that the official psychology or soul science practiced today is more than mere dilettantism compared to the real insight into the soul life, it would still not be possible to do what Karl Lamprecht tried out of an estimable instinct, but with which he must fail. He tries to make himself clear: what does the psychologist say about the development of the individual in relation to his soul? And then he applies what comes to light in the soul development of the individual in today's official psychology to his entire German nation.

A strangely enigmatic characteristic emerged, one that distinguished the different eras but indulged in endless repetition. If we wish to recognize the basis of this, we must point to something that can certainly be regarded today as paradoxical, perhaps as fantastic, perhaps as a mere reverie, but which must penetrate into the historical way of looking at humanity if history is really to become for life what it is believed to be for practical life. If we consider the individual human being in the development of his soul with that which enters into his ordinary consciousness, we do not stand at all in the realm that contains the driving forces in historical becoming. For why? That which works and lives from person to person in the moral, historical, and social togetherness does not live in the ordinary consciousness of the human being.

We can only come to terms with what is at stake here if we truly bring to mind a thought that I have often mentioned. In the ordinary, trivial consideration of life, one is of the opinion: the human state of consciousness alternates between the two great phases of daily waking life and nocturnal dull sleeping life, where consciousness is pushed back into the dullest possible twilight. But this is only a superficial way of looking at it. In truth, anyone who delves deeper into the conditions of inner human life and its revelations, using the means that I presented here the day before yesterday as imagination, inspiration, in short, as means of visual penetration into the spiritual world , that what we call dream life, what we call sleep life, does not merely occupy the human senses from the moment we fall asleep until we wake up, but that it extends into our waking life.

Even when we are awake, we are only awake, dear attendees, with regard to our perceptions, our imaginative or mental life. We are not fully awake to our emotional impulses. These emotional impulses are down there in the depths of our soul life. What we experience of our feelings while awake, what we bring into our ordinary consciousness, are only representations of our feelings, and these are to our feelings as the memories of dreams we have when we wake up are to the dreams themselves. Feelings are no brighter, no more manifest in our soul than dreams themselves. By leading an emotional life, we lead it in the element of dreaming. And only by imagining our emotional life do the waves of this emotional life break from the subconscious into the conscious.

And even in the impulses of the will! If you remember how I dealt with it from a different point of view the day before yesterday, even in the impulses of the will, one has to say: There the human being not only dreams, but there the sleep life in all its dullness continues in the actual element of the impulses of the will in the daytime consciousness. What does a person know, by having the idea of what he will do, how this idea is realized only in his hand movement! What does he know of the mechanism of this hand movement, of the transition of the will's idea into the hand movement! This is overslept in the depths of consciousness. Thus the life of dreams and sleep continues in its impulses in the waking life, and it does not express itself particularly in the individual human life; for man is so concerned with his individuality that his life of conception and of perception is of importance for him, for his development, for that which stands clearly before his soul stands clearly before his soul; but when man works for man, when man learns to know and love man, when man acts for man, then it is not the impulses of perception and thinking recognition alone that work, but what leaps from man to man out of dream-like feeling, out of sleeping volition. In social and moral life, there is an element that works through all of humanity, especially through a humanity that belongs together, which is dreamt, which is overslept, an unconscious element.

Dear attendees, to express such a truth in abstracto, as I have just done, is of course relatively easy. If it is introduced into the true contemplation of life, it requires a strictly scientific approach. But this strictly scientific approach leads to something completely different from the historical consideration, as we have been accustomed to in school so far, which, as I have shown you in the introductory words, is so inadequate in the most important cases of life assessment. Once we have recognized, in its full significance, that what pulses as historical, moral, and social life in humanity must be considered as it directly works, like dreaming, like sleeping, we will realize that History must become something other than what has been understood by it so far and than even Karl Lamprecht understood it, because he wants to consider the soul of the individual and now apply that which lives in the waking consciousness to the historical consideration. No history comes of it, because one does not approach the dreamy and sleepy impulses of the event with it. And one comes to it least of all when one does what has been done more and more in the course of the nineteenth century, when one, which has led to such great, such powerful results for natural science, which have also been fully recognized by spiritual science completely appreciated by spiritual science, if one wants to apply the scientific way of thinking to history, this scientific way of thinking, which is, after all, a result of the intellectualism of modern times.

The greatness of the modern study of history has been seen precisely in the fact that one has begun to look at everything scientifically, that one has begun to place historical development in the same light in which natural phenomena occur to us and in which natural phenomena are rightly viewed. Here, too, Hermann Grimm made a very significant remark out of a deep instinct, although he did not recognize the significance because he was not a scholar of the humanities and also rejected the humanities. He made a remark about the way history is viewed. He pointed to a typical nineteenth-century observer of history like Gibbon, with his history of the decline of the Roman Empire. And he said it was strange that this Gibbon, who, in the spirit of the natural sciences, wanted to link the events of historical life according to cause and effect, that for the first centuries of the Christian development of the Occident in the Roman world, he actually only finds the decay forces, while he simply lets the rising, sprouting, sprouting life, which comes over the world in the emerging Christianity, in the emerging impulses of the Mystery of Golgotha, fall between the lines, without even realizing it.

Herman Grimm did not know that there was a deep necessity underlying this. Just try to apply the scientific approach, the adherence to facts that can be grasped by the intellect, to the consideration of the individual, individual human life, which is right here and also good for directing the individual life, not [true], to historical becoming. And one will see, especially with a thorough and proper examination of historical life, that one can only find in history that which leads to decline in history, and that one can never find, through the way in which natural science is emphasized as a way of thinking, anything other than the products of history's decline, that one can never find through it the sprouting, sprouting forces, because for ordinary consciousness they remain below the threshold of consciousness and must first be brought up from the dreaming and sleeping through the forces of imagination, inspiration and so on, as they were described the day before yesterday here as the method of spiritual science.

If natural science is particularly illuminated by what can come from spiritual science, history will only be able to be written at all, will only be able to be found in its essence, when one decides to apply the spiritual scientific method. What Karl Lamprecht instinctively wanted, what he felt out of a very deep Central European spiritual need, will only become reality when one passes from the ordinary knowledge of ordinary consciousness to the spiritual knowledge of historical becoming in the way just characterized.

Dear attendees, anyone who gets to know life, who acquires the ability to understand life from spiritual science, knows that looking into the emerging forces of life, into that which is future-proof and future-oriented in life, can never come from the mere intellectual, theorizing, present-day mode of thought, which is brilliant for natural science. It is a somewhat radical statement, but one that can be fully justified: the human being is at the center of reality and must shape reality through his actions; he must place himself with what reason and intellect give him and what can make him great in science in social and moral action. If he wants to regulate it, if he wants to give it a structure, even if it is only in the external commercial or banking sector, he is bound to fail. If you try to put together a parliament, any kind of society that is called upon to give social structure to humanity, from brilliant, ingenious representatives of scientific intellectualism, which is so good for the natural sciences; such parliaments of such scholars will most certainly ruin the social order, because they will only be able to give those impulses that can serve to wither and decay.

One would come upon many of life's secrets if one were to observe life so full of life. Many uncomfortable truths would come out of it, but reality is so serious that it must also be viewed seriously, that one must know what kind of mental strength one has to deal with reality. If this were realized, much of what is today called amateurishness and what is today called fantasy and dreaming would be recognized for what it is: imbued with reality, akin to reality, and called to intervene in reality where the theorist of today, the scientific thinker of the Wilson type, only has the banal, so-called ideals of peoples, so-called principles of interstate treaties, and so on, and so on, as all the theoretical, impractical, self-abrogating stuff is only called; where such a purely theoretical personality sets something unreal, there must enter into a time that demands such seriousness from us as today.

Dear attendees! I will not shrink from developing at least a few points here before you, showing how what I developed yesterday as the consciousness of vision can truly be immersed in reality, and how this leads to a consideration of history. I will only be able to develop the initial, very elementary ideas today, since I cannot speak until midnight and beyond; but you will see from this how, admittedly, there is an instinctive desire for such a historical perspective in individual minds like Karl Lamprecht's, but how there is no awareness that, in the field of historical perspective in particular, one must move on to a real, spiritual-scientific way of looking at things. I have pointed out that, out of a correct instinct, Karl Lamprecht assumes the mid-fifteenth century to be a significant dividing line in the modern development of the German people. And since, in fact, the German people are placed in modern times as a representative people out of objective knowledge — I say this not out of chauvinism — one can study the demands of the impulses of modern times especially in the German people.

But Karl Lamprecht does not go beyond an instinctive observation; otherwise he would not have equated this profound point, this turning point in historical development in the mid-fifteenth century, with turning points in the eleventh century or even with one in the eighteenth century. But anyone who penetrates deeper than Karl Lamprecht into historical becoming will notice that – although this is only ever reflected in external events – a mighty leap, a mighty change in the current of development occurs in the depths of life around the mid-fifteenth century. And the beginning of this same European current, which ends around the middle of the fifteenth century and gives way to certain impulses in which we still stand, in the beginnings of which we actually stand, the beginning of this current, which ends with the middle of the fifteenth century, lies roughly in the seventh or eighth century BC.

From the seventh or eighth century BC to the mid-fifteenth century, European life had a unified moral, political and social configuration. All facts and impulses worked out of an inner spiritual fact, which I, because I must describe it briefly here, would like to describe by saying that it works as it works from person to person in historical development because during this time people are still dominated by a certain instinctive way of using the intellect. Until the middle of the fifteenth century, beginning with the seventh or eighth century BC, the soul life of human beings was, in a sense, homogeneous, shaped in a unified way, but in such a way that the intellect, which is grasped and experienced individually today, worked like an instinct; and all events, all that which human beings wanted, all cultural All these things can only be understood in this time if one can enter into this special way of the soul's activity, where the intellect works instinctively, where reflection does not yet play a major role, where events happen elementary from the human breast, which can only happen now when the human being has long deliberations behind him.

And in the mid-fifteenth century, what replaces the instinctive intellectual soul – in spiritual science, one can also call it the emotional soul – what replaces the instinctive what can be called the consciousness soul, where everything has to pass through the individual consciousness, where the human being has to place the concept, the thought, everywhere, where the instinctive no longer works so fundamentally in his soul. Everything that has happened since the middle of the fifteenth century – I can only hint at it here in rough outlines – can only be understood if one has the first foundation, if one really has this turning point that I have indicated. There you have one point of view – I can only give guidelines – I will give another point of view, which is, however, regarded by people of the present time as even more fantastic, that it is deeply rooted in a truly scientific way of thinking, not in a dilettantish way, but in a way that is difficult to achieve, the existence of which most people still have no idea. This will be recognized in the course of time, just as it has been recognized that not the old world view of the pre-Copernican era, but the Copernican world view is the appropriate one for more recent times.

Ordinary historical research into documents already leads back quite a long way today compared to earlier times; but we only arrive at an understanding of the developmental history of humanity, an understanding that can arise from comparing the various earthly developmental epochs, when we can go much further through the seeing consciousness, through the insight of the seeing consciousness into the development of humanity, than historical documents can provide. Of course, this will naturally be dismissed as fantasy – that may be – but it is nevertheless true that what I described the day before yesterday as the three foundations of true, non-fantastical, non-superstitious clairvoyant consciousness in imagination, inspiration and intuition, that this is added to by following the development of humanity on earth from within, by looking inwardly. Then, not guided by external documents but examining the life of the soul through inner spiritual vision, one goes further back than the seventh or eighth century BC. One goes back to a time that took hold a few millennia earlier. One goes back to those periods of time that follow that significant catastrophe in the earth's history, which geology reports as the Ice Age, which various folk traditions report as the Flood, which of course must be dated much further back than tradition says; one goes back into ancient times, into which no external document, no literary monument, but into which spiritual vision reaches - today I can only hint at the results - one comes back into an ancient past, where a culture existed from which that which emerged later, but in a much later time, existed as the culture of ancient India. Sanskrit literature reports on this, but it is a later product than what I actually mean here in the development of mankind. One goes back to an age in which the human soul worked under completely different conditions.

It is a prejudice today that the human soul has not changed since the time when it can be observed. Oh, it has changed so much. If you go back with a spiritual scientific view to the first period after the great glacial epoch of earthly development, which reached its peak in particular in ancient Indian culture, you encounter a completely different kind of mankind, from which impulses must have emerged that are quite different from those of later times; we encounter a type of human being that remained capable of development into old age in a way that we are only capable of development in the first years of childhood. We are capable of development so that we experience - we still experience it in dullness - what occurs at the change of teeth, for example. We experience the physical in the soul. How does the young person experience sexual maturity, the physical body in the spiritual soul! But in our time, this ends in the twenties. Certain precocious children – one dare not even say this today – even believe that this dependency of the spiritual soul on the physical body ends. It is believed that one is even more mature at twenty for writing “below the line” than at twenty. The dependency on the physical body also lasts until then. But then it stops. I do not mean the external dependency that occurs in the fatigue of the body, in the greying of the hair, in the wrinkles of the face - that is external dependency.

But in that ancient epoch of which I am now speaking, a person experienced such dependency until the age of fifty, which today is only experienced in childhood. Everyone who was there as a young person knew that you experience something new when you get old. That was something very significant, because from about the age of 35 onwards, a person's development takes a downward turn, with physical development entering into decline.

Now, the experience of the decline of the physical is not as we experience it today, but the inner experience, the way one experiences sexual maturity, is a special inner development in relation to the spiritual. It is precisely the spiritual that gives us this experience of physical decline. And by experiencing the physical in this oldest epoch, this physical in that older epoch was particularly suited to develop in the soul in an immediate, elementary, natural way. Just as we today only remember the different stages of our childhood and youth, so in this most ancient time, the human being was suited to experience special spiritual-soul experiences inwardly, the echo of which can be clearly perceived in later ancient Indian literature and culture.

Then came another age. There was already a decline. Man was only in this way with his spiritual-soul in connection with the physical-bodily, only until the last forties. Then came the third age after the great ice age. There man was only capable of development in the way I have indicated until the last thirties. And then came the age that began in the seventh and eighth centuries before the Christian era, of which I said that the mind still worked instinctively, because the ability to develop dawned on the whole of human life until the mid-thirties. During this Greco-Roman period, humans remained capable of development.

Then there was a decline, and for our time – one can calculate such things, but I can only present the results here – the 27th year is approximately the limit up to which the soul and spirit go along with the physical and bodily. In spiritual science, I call what I have just explained the process by which humanity becomes ever younger. Humanity remains, so to speak, youthfully fresh, growing and flourishing in older times well into old age; it retained its developmental forces well into old age. I call this process by which humanity becomes ever younger.

As you can see, if we look at the real laws of historical development on a large scale, we cannot consider the psychology, the soul science, of the individual human being, as Karl Lamprecht does; because the soul in humanity's development, in the times when people did what Karl Lamprecht wanted, they did it in such a way that they said: well, in ancient times humanity is in childhood; then it comes of age and then into mature age; then it becomes old. The opposite is true for the study of reality. Humanity remains young from the earliest times to the highest age, that is, it reaches a high age in youthful freshness and becomes ever younger and younger with its decisive powers, that is, it comes more and more to development, which depends on youth, which no longer gives anything to old age.

One must therefore apply a completely different method and psychology of soul observation if one wants to elevate what is otherwise experienced in the dream world, even in the sleeping state of human beings in their historical and moral development. And only when we study the pulsating depths of the human soul, when we truly get to know the driving forces of evolution, only when we study human evolution and delve into the individual facts, only then will we arrive at a vital and realistic view of historical life.

I would like to mention just one event. Those of you in the audience who have been coming to my lectures here every winter for years – it has been 14 or 15 years – know how little inclined I am to go into personal matters in these lectures; but here the personal is often also appropriate. If I may mention something personal, it may be the following: I myself tried to remain objective with regard to the greatest historical events of the coming into being of the earth, to remain as objective as was at all possible. I started out with no prejudice. And after decades of research, I found the law of this historical coming into being of the earth's humanity, as I have described it, this law of the aging of humanity, in regard to which one must say: There was an age when humanity was capable of development until the age of fifty, until the age of forty, then until the age of thirty, and so on, and in Greek times it was capable of development until around the age of thirty-five. In the seventh and eighth centuries, then, to the 34th, 33rd year, then back to the 28th year. We are roughly in the middle of the fifteenth century. There the instinctive knowledge of the mind ends in the human soul.

Now I said to myself: There comes a point in time when humanity stands in the middle of its development, when the development of humanity stands at a particular point. Once, in this Greco-Roman age, humanity was on the verge of growing older and older and younger and younger. 33 years old; a new impulse had to come if humanity was not to lose its connection with the spiritual world. For this spiritual world opens up to man especially when he sees within himself in his spiritual and soul experience the physical and bodily decay, as it was in ancient times. This spiritual impulse came. It is to be deepened through the newer spiritual science. For that which the human being can no longer draw out of his bodily form, the spirit must give him through spiritual-scientific knowledge as spiritual, in order to keep him capable of development up to the highest age. But for this to happen, a special impulse had to come at a particularly important moment in history, when humanity, going down from above, had reached the 33rd year. And strangely, the greatest symbol in human development is the new impulse of Golgotha, the Christ impulse. The greatest impulse for the development of the earth comes from the 33-year-old Christ Jesus in the 33rd year of humanity. I did not set out, dear attendees, to look at the Christ impulse first and to place it artificially. I knew nothing of this being placed in this way. This law presented itself to me first, as I have explained it before, and then I had to see the Christ impulse in the light of this law.

When one looks at it this way, one first recognizes how spiritual science does not lead to a superficiality, to a shallowness of religious life, but truly to a deepening of religious life, to that deepening which sinks this religious life so deeply into the human development of reality. I just wanted to mention this because you so often encounter the following: people criticize you, well, whether you speak of religious life in spiritual scientific lectures or whether you don't speak of it. What don't they criticize! If one does not speak of it, they say, spiritual science has no religion, no Christianity; perhaps this only arises because this spiritual science, in a deeper sense, understands a certain commandment that also exists:

Thou shalt not take the name of the divine being in vain! (Ex 20:7)

If one does not speak the name of Christ or God in every sentence, it is said that spiritual science leads away from religious life. If one does speak the names, people regard it as an attack because they all feel called upon to speak about religious life. You can't please people. But that is not the point. Those who get to the very heart of spiritual science can see how it can only lead to a deepening in all areas, including religious life. And how is moral, social and historical life grasped, which proceeds in such a way that its impulses do not even penetrate into consciousness? But we live in an age where awareness must arise, where what could remain unconscious in earlier times must emerge into consciousness. We can look back to those ancient times of human development, when the dream-like, the sleeping in human impulses was experienced in a different way. Then, historical life was lived out in consciousness in myths, legends and fairy tales.

Those who understand how to appreciate such things know that fairy tales and myths, in the external sense, do not contain any truth in the way that history is viewed today; but in a deeper sense, they contain the historical impulses that people otherwise dream about and ignore. By developing his myths, legends and fairy tales, man placed himself in the moral, social and historical context of his fellow human beings, and in his own way brought to consciousness in a pictorial way what is actually at work in historical, social and moral life.

Today, of course, we cannot invent myths and fairy tales; but we must use spiritual scientific imagination and inspiration to bring up from the depths of the human soul what would otherwise remain subconscious. We must recognize that when one person stands morally face to face with another, there is a kind of subconscious clairvoyance in this confrontation. And what the spiritual researcher recounts is only a raising of the subconscious, the dream-like, but in human actions to revelation coming, into consciousness.

In this way spiritual science has a hand in the investigation and deepening of reality. And this spiritual science corresponds fundamentally to what the instinctive consciousness has been striving for in our spiritual life. One has only to think of a spirit like Lessing and his “Education of the Human Race”, or of the great and significant impulses for the study of history that were given by Herder. Much of this has been forgotten. In my book “The Riddle of Man” I have pointed this out, and also pointed to a forgotten current in German intellectual life. But this forgotten current in German intellectual life will resurface; for in it lie the seeds of a spiritually appropriate view of reality.

Such a spiritual view of reality is particularly needed in history. Then the real impulses, which no intellectualism, no scientific observation, no Wilsonianism can bring to the study of humanity, will enter into the study of humanity. It will be realized that that which is revealed in history, that which is revealed through man, goes deeper to the soul than that which merely seizes the head, that which merely seizes the intellect and which rightly celebrates such glorious triumphs in scientific knowledge. But with this one cannot master reality. One will understand why a history educated in the natural science pattern had to make such mistakes as even Schiller made, as the people of our time have made in relation to the great world catastrophe.

In our time, we are called upon to form our judgments about the development of the earth. We must not shrink from deepening these judgments, we must grasp what Goethe means, what underlies Goethe's words when he says that history cannot be learned intellectually, but that history when we immerse ourselves in it so deeply that we bring the subconscious into consciousness and place it in the human context, we develop ideals that enable us to cope with current situations. False prophecies will not arise in our consciousness, but the strength will arise wherever we are placed in life; we will know how to grasp the context of the facts and will be able to act out of natural necessity. Then we will not be taken in by false prophecies, all kinds of predictions and the like, but by real prophetic, that is, future-proof, future-oriented action, which we will come to know through the study of history.

History must first come into being and will only come into being when people come to a spiritual-minded view of reality. Then history will also develop true moral science, then history will be what can give man the best in the first place, namely the right enthusiasm for life, an enthusiasm that is full of understanding, that penetrates into reality, and that meets the right thing in the right place. And such a thing is demanded by the life of the immediate present. The life of the immediate present teaches many things; it also teaches that we must meet the demand for a true view of history.

We saw yesterday that the Gospel of John contains something that can only be experienced on higher levels of consciousness. Before such experiences are possible, the human being must first develop higher.

The human being is a developing creature. We can observe this from subordinate to ever higher states. This is already shown by the difference between a savage and a civilized European, or between an ordinary person and a genius like Schiller, Goethe or Francis of Assisi. An unlimited potential for development is open to every human being. To understand this, let us take up yesterday's lecture and use a diagram to clarify the theosophical basic teachings on the development of the human being:

During the following explanations, the diagram below will be drawn on the “board, starting from the bottom left.

We have thus seen that man has his physical body in common with all inanimate beings, the etheric body with all plants in our physical world, and the astral body with all animal creatures in his environment. We then saw that man, in terms of his development, differs from all other beings in that he can say “I” to himself.

The “I” is by no means a simple entity. On closer inspection, it is also something that is structured. The animal feels, has desire and passion, the plant does not; the animal because it already possesses an astral body. In this, the I develops in man. But this I has been at work long before man became clearly aware of it. A look at the development of humanity teaches us more about this.

The earth has not always been as it is today. Its face has repeatedly changed; the present continents have not always been there. During the penultimate earth period, a continent called Atlantis was located where the Atlantic Ocean now rages. Traces of it and the story of its downfall have been preserved in ancient legends. In the Bible, the Flood is meant by this. The ancient fathers of a different nature, whose descendants we are, experienced this. In this old Atlantis, the air and water conditions were quite different from what they are now. The whole thing was shrouded in a dense fog. In the words Nebelheim, Niflheim, we still have a hint of this. There was no rain and no sunshine; instead of rain, only fog currents; instead of sun, only diffuse illumination. Only after long periods did the fog condense as water. The sun only penetrated a little, like a faint premonition, through the constant fog. In such an environment, people also lived a completely different mental and spiritual life than today. It was only towards the end of the Atlantic period, roughly in the area of present-day Ireland, that people began to show self-awareness for the first time, and to think clearly and logically. In the mists there was no possibility of distinguishing objects as we do today. Man only develops a consciousness like ours in relation to his surroundings. As the objects emerged from the mists, so did the physical eye; and in the same measure the consciousness soul developed, and within it the self-aware ego. Even then, man could speak.

If we go back even further to the earliest times of Atlantis, we find that man looked significantly different. He had no external vision at that time, but a different way of perceiving, in images. To understand this state of consciousness, imagine a very vivid dream that reflects something of your surroundings. The following “dream” may serve as an example. A student dreams that he is standing at the door of the lecture hall, and another student deliberately brushes against him, which is a serious offense that can only be atoned for by a duel. He challenges him, they drive into the forest, the duel begins, the first shot rings out. Then our student wakes up – he has pushed over the chair next to his bed. Had he been awake, he would have noticed that a chair had fallen over. But because his consciousness soul had descended into sleep, he perceived with a deeper, less developed soul power. The dramatic action of the dream is a pictorial transformation of an external process.

The processes of consciousness in the ancient Atlanteans were similar. Although the images were more regulated and ordered, they did not have a clear perception of their surroundings. The life of feeling expressed itself quite characteristically in fine perceptions of touch and color. If the early Atlantean perceived a warm mist that symbolized itself to him in red, he knew that something pleasant was approaching him. Or if he encountered another person who was unpleasant to him, this was also indicated to him by a very specific sensation that became an image, an ugly color tone. But warmth, for example, was symbolized to him in a beautiful red cloud. This happened in many degrees and variations. The early Atlanteans thus had visual perceptions. We only have such perceptions in the case of pain, which is obviously only within us, however much it is caused by the outside world and can become loud. Our pain is also experienced inwardly, spiritually, and is thus truer than the external facts.

The Atlanteans, however, already developed ordered ideas. Not so the Lemurians. The Atlantean period was preceded by the Lemurian period. Man was not yet able to express language. He was merely able to internalize what the animal also feels. Thus, what we call the sentient soul developed in him. The continent of Lemuria, which was destroyed by the forces of fire, we have to imagine between Africa, Australia and Asia.

But now back to our scheme: IIIa sentient soul, IIIb intellectual soul, IIIc consciousness soul are all three transformations, ennobled transformations from the astral body. It is only towards the end of the Atlantean period that man becomes capable of consciously working on himself. What does he do now?

Up to now, cosmic forces have lifted man up in his development. Now man begins to consciously take his development into his own hands, to work on himself, to educate himself. On which body does he now begin his work? It is important to pay strict attention to the sequence here. First, man was and is able to work on and in his astral body. And on this level of ability, the human being of the present day is still standing today. In general, we can say of today's human being: He uses his experiences and experiences to transform his astral body. Later we will see that a higher level of development consists of working into the lower bodies. Let us first stay with the first: with the ability to transform the astral body.

To do this, let us compare the civilized man with the savage. The savage first follows his instincts, desires and passions, every craving, without restraint. But then he can begin to work on his self. To certain instincts he says: remain; to others: leave. Thus, for example, the man-eater ceases his habit of eating his own kind; in so doing, he leaves a certain stage of civilization and becomes another. Or he learns to act logically, learns, for example, to plow. Thus his astral body becomes more and more structured. Formerly external powers determined man, now he does it himself. The astral body of a Hottentot circles in wild dark red vortices, in a person like Schiller in bright green and yellow, in Franz of Assisi in wonderful blue. This is how the astral body is worked on. That which is consciously worked into the astral body from the I is called the spirit self or manas. With the conscious working in of the I, something very special begins. Before that, however, before one comes to the formation of this manas, that part which the animal also has remains completely unchanged in the astral body. Despite the growth of intellect, the astral body can remain essentially unchanged, full of animal desires. But there are influences that do transform the sentient body: conscious religiosity and art. From these we draw strength to overcome and ennoble ourselves, which is a much stronger power than mere morality. Man has as much of the spirit or Manas as he has worked into his astral body. This is not something external, it is a transformation product of what used to be the sentient soul.

As long as I am merely working on my sentient body, I use my achievements to transform this my astral body. All the morality in the world cannot achieve more, nor can all intellectuality. But if true religiousness is at work in me, this stronger power expresses itself through the astral body and works its way into the next lower one, the etheric body. This is naturally a much greater achievement than when the ego merely works with the astral, because the raw material of the etheric body is much coarser and more resistant than the finer astral body. We call the result of this transformation the spirit of life or Budhi. The spirit of life is thus the spiritualized life body. In the Orient, someone who had brought it to the highest level was called a Buddha. This tremendous moral power proceeds from consciousness when the three souls are governed by a strong ego. These are preparatory steps for humanity in general. Only the chela works consciously in his etheric body. The chela aims to spiritualize everything, even into his etheric body. The chelaship is concluded when he has allowed Budhi to stream completely into his life body, so that the life body, which he ennobles from the I, has become a life spirit.

In the third stage, man reaches the highest principle that is currently accessible to us. He is able to work down to his physical body. In doing so, he rises above the level of the chela and becomes a “master”. When, on the second step, Budhi glows through his etheric body, the human being gains control not only of moral principles but also of his character. He can change his temperament, his memory, and his habits. Today's human being has only a very imperfect command of all these. To understand the task of the chela, compare yourself as you are now with yourself when you were ten years old. How much knowledge have you gained since then, and how little your character has changed! The content of the soul has changed quite radically, but the habits and inclinations only very slightly. Those who were hot-tempered, forgetful, envious, inattentive as a child are often still so as adults. How much our ideas and thoughts have changed, how little our habits! This gives you a clue to estimate how much tougher, firmer, more difficult to shape the etheric body is compared to the astral body. Conversely, how much more fruitful and consequential an improvement achieved in the etheric body!

The following sentence can be used as an example of the different speeds at which transformation is possible: What you have learned and experienced has changed like the minute hand of the clock, your habits like the hour hand. Learning is easy, unlearning is difficult. You can still recognize yourself from the writing of yesteryear, because that is also a habit. It is easy to change views and insights, but difficult to change habits. Changing this tenacious thing, habit, little by little, is the task of the chela. This means becoming a different person by creating a different etheric body, thus transforming the life body into the life spirit. This puts the forces of growth in your hands. Habits are among the manifest growth forces. If I destroy them, the vis vitalis, the power of growth, is released and placed at my disposal, to direct my consciousness. Christ says: “I am the way, the truth and the life.” Christ is the personification of the power that changes the life body.

Now to the third stage. There is something that is even more difficult to bring under the control of free will than our habits and emotional stirrings: the physical body in its animal and vegetative, mechanical or reflexive dependency. There is a stage of human development in which no nerve is activated, no blood corpuscle rolls without the human being's conscious will. This self-transformation reaches into conditions and states that were fixed long, long before Atlantis and Lemuria, and are therefore the hardest to reverse: into cosmic primeval states. In this work, man develops Atman, the spiritual man. The potential for this is present in every human being today. This whole cycle depends on the attainment of fully clear self-awareness.

The most powerful and potent laws are those of the breathing process. The entire spiritual being depends on lung breathing, because it is the outer expression of the gradual drawing in of the I. In ancient Atlantis, this potential emerged through the saying of the I. In Lemuria, man did not breathe through lungs, but through gill-like organs. Nor did he walk as we do today, but floated or swam in a more fluid element, where water and air were not yet separated. To maintain his balance, he had an organ analogous to the swim bladder of a fish. As the air gradually separated, the swim bladder was transformed into our present lungs. The development of the sense of self runs parallel to the development of the lungs. This is still expressed in the words: “And God breathed into the man his breath of life, and he became a living soul.” Atman means nothing other than “breath”. The regulation of the breath is therefore one of the most powerful tools in the work of yoga, which teaches the control of all bodily functions. Here we look into a future in which human beings will have transformed themselves from within.

Conscious work in the etheric body is therefore a mastery.

Conscious work in the physical body: mastery.

The human being perceives the growth into these two stages as an opening up of new worlds, new environments, comparable only to the feelings of the child when it emerges from the dark, warm womb into the cold, light world at birth. The moment of generating Budhi is called second birth, rebirth, awakening in all mysteries. As man formerly left an inner world, of which only echoes remain in dreams, so he enters a new world as one awakened to the same world on a higher level. In those ancient times, man perceived the world with the help of his own inner images. On the future level of higher clairvoyance, man steps out of himself and sees behind the essence of things; he sees their souls. It is a kind of clairvoyance that is directed outwards and highlights the 'inherent essence' of things. The seer penetrates, for example, below the surface of the plant or stone. This outward-directed clairvoyance, with full mental alertness, not only illuminates the very basis of his own soul, but also that of the beings and things outside of himself. This is how development takes place.

Modern man lives in the manasical state, that is, he is able to change something in his astral body, but not yet in his etheric body, and least of all in his physical body. Therefore, man takes in from another only as much as corresponds to his stage of development. “You are like the spirit you understand, not like me!” This saying also applies here.

According to Christian terminology, the designations correspond:

Why is Budhi called the “Word”? This brings us to the edge of one of the great mysteries, and we will see the great significance of the term “Word”.

We have seen that man spiritualizes his life body through the Budhi. What does the life body do in man? Growth and reproduction, everything that distinguishes the living being from the mineral. What is the highest expression of the life body? Reproduction, growth beyond itself. What becomes of this last expression of the life body when man consciously covers the path back to spiritualization? How is this reproductive power transformed, what becomes of it when it is purified, spiritualized? — In the human larynx you have the purification, the transformation of the reproductive power, and in the articulated vowel sound, in the human word, you have the transformed reproductive capacity. Analogous to the law “All is below as above”, we find the corresponding process in the physical: the breaking of the voice, the mutation at the time of sexual maturity. All that becomes spirit emanates from the word or the content of the word. This is the very first glimpse of Budhi, when the first articulated sound emerges from the human soul. A mantram has such a significant effect because it is a spiritually articulated word. A mantram is therefore the means for the chela to work down into the depths of his soul.

Thus, in the physical, we have the power of reproduction, through which life is generated and passed on beyond the physical body, becoming something permanent. And just as the physical generative organs transmit bodily life, so the organs of speech — tongue, larynx and breath — transmit spiritual life like an ignition device. In the physiological, the close connection between voice and procreation is obvious. We encounter it in the song of the nightingale, in courtship display, voice change, vocal magic, in singing, cooing, crowing, roaring. We can truly call the larynx the higher sexual organ. The word is the power of procreation for new human spirits; in the word, man achieves a spiritualized creative power. Today, man rules the air with the word, by shaping it rhythmically and organically, by stirring it and enlivening it. On a higher level, he is able to do this in the liquid and finally in the solid element. Then you have transformed the word into the creator's word, for man will achieve this in his development because it was originally so. The life body, emanated from the word of the primal spirit, - this is to be taken literally. That is why Budhi is called the “word”, which means nothing other than: I am.

Thus we see with geometrical clarity the words of the miracle in St. John's Gospel: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. In him was life, and the life was the light of men.” The astral body, which is radiant as the stars, becomes the Word-light; the Primordial God, the Life and the Light, these are the three fundamental concepts of the Gospel of John. John had to develop to the point of Budhi in order to grasp what was revealed in Christ Jesus. The other three Evangelists were not so highly developed. John gives the highest, he was an awakened one. John is the name given to all who are awakened. This is a generic name, and the resurrection of Lazarus in the Gospel of John is nothing more than a description of this awakening. The writer of the Gospel of John, whose name we will hear later, never calls himself by any other name than “the disciple whom the Lord loves”. This is the term for the most intimate disciples, for those in whom the teacher and master has succeeded in awakening the disciple. The description of such an awakening is given by the author of the Gospel of John in the resurrection of Lazarus: “the Lord loved him,” he could awaken him.

Only if we approach such religious documents as the Gospel of John with the deepest humility can we hope to arrive at a literal understanding and to grasp at least a small part of its sacred content.

Last night I tried to give some thoughts here about what a spiritual scientific worldview sets out to achieve, about the sources from which it originates, and I tried to draw attention to how this spiritual scientific worldview wants to place itself in a similar way in the spiritual cultural development of humanity, as the natural scientific worldview placed itself in the spiritual life of humanity centuries ago. Most of the honored audience is aware that here in this country, near Basel, on a hill surrounded by beautiful natural surroundings, in Dornach, a building is to be erected - work on this building has already progressed to a certain extent - that is intended to serve the spiritual-scientific world view, and which is to be, so to speak, a place where this spiritual-scientific world view can be cultivated in a right and dignified way.

Now, of course, it is certainly not possible to judge anything that is unfinished. But among the many voices and judgments that have come from the outside world to those who have to do with this building, there is so much that is adventurous, so much that is completely misunderstood and inaccurate, that it might perhaps be of interest to talk here in this city, in whose vicinity this building is located, about the principle of what is intended with this building. I would like to make it clear that this evening I will not be discussing the artistic or other details of this building, but will confine myself to a general description of what characterizes this building as a setting for spiritual scientific research. Anyone who has become familiar with the spiritual scientific world view and at the same time is aware of the prevailing habits of thought and feeling in the present day will not be at all surprised when those who have not yet concerned themselves much with the spiritual scientific world view see all kinds of fantastic, dreamy, perhaps even crazy and twisted things in it. Basically, however, this will appear quite natural to anyone whose whole soul is immersed in the spiritual-scientific world view. But nor will anyone be surprised that the architectural framework of such a structure, which - and this should be stated explicitly - is undertaken as a first, weak attempt, can often appear to the outside world as something adventurous, fantastic, and strange. After all, what lives in this spiritual-scientific world-view current, with all the people who profess this world-view current, is often and quite understandably taken at face value today.

To mention just one thing, really only as something symptomatic: After a lecture I was once asked whether a woman who embraces the spiritual scientific world view must wear her hair short and eccentric clothing. Surely that is not particularly appealing? Yes, I was also asked whether anyone could believe that women could somehow advance in their spiritual development by cutting their hair and wearing peculiar clothes? Such questions have really been asked, and they are actually not fundamentally different from some of the strange things that can be heard from some quarters, not only about the way the Dornach building is shaped, but also about what is to be done in this Dornach building, what mysterious things are to take place in this building in the future. I believe that an understanding of the design of this building as a house for spiritual science can best be gained by sketching out at least a few strokes of the origin of the building.

Spiritual science has been practised by a number of people for years. It goes without saying that at the beginning of its development it had to be cultivated in the spaces that are currently available in the world. Now it became apparent in various cities, including one in Germany, that the premises that had been used until then were gradually becoming too small as the number of participants in the spiritual-scientific worldview grew. So they thought about how to build their own house in this city for the cultivation of the spiritual-scientific worldview. Since the spiritual-scientific worldview not only produces certain ideas of beauty and art from its sources, but can also have a fertilizing effect on artistic creativity itself, the aim was to construct a building that, in its uniqueness, would be a framework for spiritual science, so that the world of feeling corresponding to this way of thinking would be expressed in the artistic form.

Another idea was connected with this. The need arose to express what spiritual science has to say about the laws and facts of the spiritual world not only through words, which in a certain way can only hint at the spiritual facts and spiritual laws hidden behind the physical, but to express it in a living presentation, one could say - if the word is taken with the necessary seriousness - to express it through a theatrical presentation. How could one arrive at this necessity for a theatrical presentation from the spiritual science itself?

Well, spiritual science wants to be something that, although the human soul rises through spiritual science to the regions of spiritual life, of the invisible and the supersensible, nevertheless directly engages with life. Spiritual science does not want to be something unworldly and escapist; in the strictest sense of the word, it wants to be a servant of life, a servant of life for those souls who, for enlightenment about what they experience in life, need insight into the deep connections of existence.

Take, for example, something very close at hand. People meet each other in life. We know that one soul meets another; perhaps at first the other person does not make any particular impression on the first, even though the first has the opportunity to get to know them well. In this way, you get to know hundreds and hundreds of people without being particularly impressed by any of them. But it is not like that with one soul. You feel drawn to this one soul in the first hour, perhaps even earlier, in the deepest sense. You feel something related in it; you do not ask what the relationship is; but that, of which we are not even aware, lives in the subconscious depths of the soul's life. It becomes the shaping of our further life. We are brought together with such a personality by bonds that are of deep, most important significance for our further life.

Spiritual science shows that man has a soul essence that can be brought, through the development of himself, to lift itself out of the physical and can be viewed purely spiritually. Spiritual science, not through philosophical speculation but through direct, real soul experience, thus learns that an eternal being, which goes through birth and death and is linked to the physical body for the time between birth - or let us say conception - and death, is present in man. And just as we have seen that our soul essence, before it enters its physical existence through birth or conception from a spiritual world, was already present in earlier earthly lives, so too does spiritual science show that our soul essence, when it has passed through the gate of death, has gone through a life between death and a new birth, in order to then bring to expression in a new life what it has carried through the spiritual world as results, as fruits one might say, of this life, in order to shape it anew in a new life. All these things are difficult for today's way of thinking to understand, but at the same time they are things that in the not too distant future will certainly have entered into the general consciousness of mankind to such an extent that human life will no longer be imaginable without these things being taken for granted.

Now, in response to what was said yesterday, I would like to say that even in ordinary life, without a person becoming a spiritual researcher, he goes out of his physical body with his soul every night from the moment he falls asleep until he wakes up and lives in a purely spiritual world. I already mentioned yesterday that dreams arise, dreams about the nature of external experiences, about the nature of what passes by during the day. Of course, these dreams are not such that they can provide enlightenment about the spiritual worlds. But if one does not approach the dream life superficially, as often happens today, but interprets it oneself with the probe of spiritual research, if one can see through the chaotic, the fantastic of dream experiences with understanding, and if one can separate from these what is only reminiscence, only memory of everyday life, then something remains at the bottom of the dream images that can be characterized as saying: there is something in dreams that has not been lived out in ordinary physical life.

Let us assume that we met with some personalities one day. We can then dream of them and of what we experienced with them. What we dream can be completely different from any memories, but it does not have to be that way. These experiences that we had with individual personalities can be transformed in such a way that we say to ourselves: “You neither experienced this in being with these personalities, nor did you think this.” The whole thing has shifted, so to speak, and something different has emerged from it. And if you now investigate – I can only briefly hint at this – you realize that in this unexperienced, but in the dream pushing through, something lives out of what still keeps us away from the personalities we have come together with, but what contains the seeds of something that will be experienced with them in a later life, something that is carried through the gate of death and will bring one together again with these personalities in a later life.

Now it seems fantastic what I am saying, but the one who can examine dreams in a spiritual scientific way knows that in these dreams, albeit chaotically, that which becomes fate for a person in later lives is already announced in the soul. We carry something in the depths of our minds that reaches into the distant, distant future, and what is just as decisive for our destiny in later life as the plant germ is for the formation of the flowers and leaves of the plant. And in the same way, in what we experience as fate, we can see the results of what was formed in the core of our soul in earlier earthly experiences. This is how man stands in the world. When he meets another person, there are forces at the bottom of his soul, soul forces, which he is not aware of, but in which he is alive. I would like to say that human life is interwoven, permeated and interwoven by that which determines man, which sometimes determines him to the most important and weighty actions of his life, but which does not come up so much in full day consciousness. How we place ourselves in life, how we place ourselves in the whole world, how we are determined by other people, by the whole world and its events, is based on hidden, supersensible experiences.

'If you look at modern dramatic art, it represents above all what takes place consciously in front of people. And it is quite natural that a drama appears all the more transparent the more it is composed merely of what can be directly surveyed. Those deeper forces that determine the human soul, that are connected with the soul, insofar as there is something in this soul that goes beyond birth and death, cannot be represented in ordinary drama. But the fact that life is dominated by such forces is an immediate result of spiritual science. Now spiritual science, by living out itself, not theoretically, not philosophically, but genuinely artistically, can come to a dramatic representation of life through something other than the word, so that in the play, in the way how the dramatic characters are juxtaposed and grouped, how the entire dramatic action is shaped, the deepest forces of life are expressed, which we do not talk about in ordinary life and which we often do not bring to consciousness. What determines and rules life from its depths can basically only be understood if one looks into this life with the same methods that spiritual science uses to look into what is behind external nature, into what transcends and determines the world. A deepening of human relationships, a deepening of the human soul's relationship to the world, that is what must underlie such drama, I would say, such dramatic expression of the facts of spiritual science.

So, in order to, so to speak, sensualize what spiritual science has to say about human life, dramatic representations had to be presented. In the early days we had to present such dramatic performances in ordinary theaters. It is understandable that the ordinary theaters, which are really - nothing at all should be said against them - intended for quite different tasks and goals, cannot provide the right setting for what this spiritual scientific worldview wants. Thus the idea arose from these and other reasons, arising out of pure necessity, to carry out such a building project ourselves and in doing so to combine an auditorium with a space – which does not need to be called a 'stage' – a space that is suitable for allowing such performances, drawn from the spiritual-scientific point of view, to be performed in it.

I am mentioning all this about the origin of our plan because all sorts of things have been said about what this building should contain. It has been thought that ghosts will only haunt the place, that ghosts will be cited there, that people will come into contact with all kinds of ghosts. No, that is not the case, but it is a matter of seriously grasping the depths of life, which are there, which people long and thirst for, and which are presented to the human soul through spiritual science, not through spooks and ghosts, but through artistic creation, artistic design with the means, which must be means of expression for that which has been hinted at as grounding life ever more deeply. It is with these means, these forms of expression, that spiritual science should speak to the audience in this building. This building in Dornach is therefore intended to be a house for cultivating spiritual science through the word and spiritual science through presentation. It goes without saying that as spiritual science advances, many other things will be connected with it, but it had to be be mentioned.

Now, basically, everything that is expressed in art, if it is to be real art, is a revelation of that which works through the human soul as a world view. Otherwise, art remains a mere appendage of life, an idle addition to life. Let us try to imagine ourselves in those art epochs that were truly great epochs of artistic development. Of course, because of the limited time available to us today, we can only touch on the most characteristic aspects, but let us try to realize how, in the dawn of the Italian Renaissance, Renaissance painting, in all that it offered, was in the deepest, most characteristic sense of the word an expression of what permeated and inspired the Christian world view at that time, what was revealed in it. There we see in Leonardo da Vinci's, in Michelangelo's, in Raphael's creations, what pervaded the mind as a world view. All art that does not flow with inner necessity from a world view is only an addition to life and not art in the real sense.

However, it must be clear that when we speak of a “world view,” we do not mean that it demands to flow out into art, as it were, and also not in such a way that this world view only touches our minds, as is the case with some modern philosophical or scientific world views that only affect the mind. When a worldview is built on mere philosophical or scientific concepts and ideas based on reason, there is no need to create or shape the framework, the architecture, in which the word of this worldview is expressed. But when a worldview seizes the entire human soul, when everything that vibrates in the human soul, in feelings and will impulses, is seized by this worldview, when the whole person belongs to this worldview, then this worldview is one that is not merely conceived, but brings the human being into connection with the whole world around him, then this world view is one that does not merely live in its concepts, but, by forming its relationship to the world around it, sees in all that it sees in its surroundings a continuation of its own inner in every tree, every cloud, every mountain.

Everything that surrounds us externally and everything that can be spiritually assumed behind what surrounds us externally wants to be grasped in a living connection with what we experience inwardly. Through his world view, the human being wants to grow together with everything that surrounds him; he wants to grasp his surroundings, not only in abstract understanding, but he wants to grasp spiritually and soulfully with his whole mind what extends out there in space. When, therefore, the world view takes hold of the whole person, it demands to flow out and radiate into the form, into everything that surrounds us. Since we cannot pursue a worldview in the great outdoors according to the needs of today's life, since it does not provide us with the space in which we can pursue a worldview, a spiritual-scientific worldview demands that it be framed by that with which the person pursuing this worldview is truly and inwardly connected.

Let us just realize that there is a core of being in every human being that is spiritual and soulful, that goes out of the human being in sleep. Let us realize that this spiritual-soul core of our being can become independent of the physical human being by recognizing, by grasping the whole world in a living, cognizing way. This core of being unites with the outer world in a completely different way than the human being who only uses the senses and his brain-bound intellect. While we are in the world of the senses, the human being stands here; the world is outside, is, as it were, spatially removed. As we advance into spiritual knowledge, we have to recognize that this spiritual knowledge is something that is much more intimately connected with the things and beings that are to be grasped by this spiritual knowledge than the sensual things are grasped by our senses. When the spiritual researcher with his soul-spiritual relates in such a way that he recognizes outside of his body – as I explained yesterday – he merges, as it were, identifies with everything in the environment. While we, when we stretch out our hand and point to something sensual, keep this sensuality outside of us, when we recognize something spiritually or soulfully, we connect with everything that fills the spiritual and soul world; we immerse ourselves in the spiritual and soul realm.

Let us now bear in mind that this spiritual scientific worldview should be expressed in the artistic realm. Is it not natural then that the need arises to have such an architecture, such an artistic framework, from which the soul can imagine: if you take the next thing that surrounds you here, should it not be something that arises directly from your spiritual-soul life itself; should it not be something that you would like to experience when you want to be with your immediate surroundings? Well, it necessarily follows that a very special form, a very special spatial arrangement, emerges. When we make a physical gesture, we are satisfied when the hand or the arm takes on the form of this gesture. When we speak of the spiritual context in which the soul comes into contact with its surroundings through spiritual knowledge, the gestures come out of us, the gestures directly populate our surroundings; that which otherwise lives in our skin, in that we are physical human beings, that comes out of us in spiritual knowledge, one might say it becomes a spiritual gesture that lovingly embraces the surroundings.

What this spiritual gesture wants to grasp, what it wants to touch, what it wants to see, the forms in which it wants to live, that is what the basic design must provide for a building in which spiritual science is practised. The forms, the colors, everything artistic must arise directly out of that which can be experienced with the world when it is understood spiritually. Thus, a building that is to serve the spiritual scientific world view is so directly connected to the essence of spiritual science itself in its forms, colors, and everything that is created, that spiritual science must transform itself out of its ideas and words into artistic forms. And by transforming itself in this way into artistic forms, it creates the necessary artistic framework for what must be done within the structure.

Now, very specific difficulties arise here from the thought habits of our time. Spiritual science is really only in its beginning, and that which shines forth for the human being, perhaps not so very far in the future, for the one who stands in spiritual science with his whole soul, is nevertheless quite fundamentally present in what we can pursue in the present as spiritual science. Hence it is that among those who today approach spiritual science, there are many who, though not attached to outward materialistic prejudices, are still attached to other prejudices. How often must we see that just those who approach spiritual science with inner zeal of their soul, often with fanatical zeal, yes, even too fanatical zeal, with fanatical zeal that borders on untruthfulness, still cling to all kinds of concepts from mysticism and theosophy, which one would like to overcome through true spiritual science. Do we not very often hear a popular definition of mysticism today: Mysticism is that which cannot be understood, that which cannot be grasped. Mysticism is that which must remain hidden. Some people believe themselves to be infinitely profound when they utter the word “occult” every quarter of an hour, when they say, “These are occult truths!” It is precisely through the clarity made possible by spiritual science that one would like to eliminate such things.

I myself have experienced (please forgive me for mentioning such examples in order to characterize them) how, twenty-seven or twenty-eight years ago, in the city where I lived at the time, various Theosophists approached me and explained what otherwise reasonable people take for an ordinary poem or a dramatic poem, or otherwise a work of art or even a painting, they have explained it by looking for this or that meaning in it, which one must first spin into it if one wants to find it in it. If they wanted to say something very significant to show that they know more than ordinary reasonable people, then they said: That is abysmally deep! That was something you could hear at every turn back then; it was thought to be a very special way of saying something. Sometimes people don't seek to penetrate the things of the world, but rather to put something into them, to mix something in; and what they don't understand, what they don't penetrate, seems particularly deep to them.

We have even had to experience, for example, that Shakespeare's 's “Hamlet” drama, which everyone must take as self-explanatory, has been interpreted by Theosophists in such a way that one principle is seen in Hamlet, another principle in other characters and yet another in yet others; all sorts of things were pulled in and added. It was miserable, terrible. One could say: Yes, this Shakespeare did not just want to depict this dreamy Danish prince, but a particular principle. As if the work of art would gain something by turning a human being into an allegorical-symbolic straw man and a dramatic structure into an external skeleton of Theosophical-philosophical truths! It can happen that one seeks what is truly deeper in the symbols and allegories, while life becomes impoverished when one sees it only in symbols and allegories.

The rich life becomes impoverished when one believes that one can find something deeper in the symbols. There are people who see something special in putting a pentagram on any old wall or anywhere else. They don't realize what this pentagram is, they don't understand it at all, but this pentagram, that is the number five, the pentagram is directed upwards, you can talk a lot about it, you can whisper and obscure a lot about it and obscure, and if you can say something that is not really connected with the five lines that are intertwined, then you are convinced that you have said or expressed something particularly profound. Or even if you attach the snake staff, the so-called Caduceus, somewhere, then you believe you have done something very special. Anyone who somehow puts up such abstract symbols and forms and believes that they have something to do with art is like someone who has notes in front of him and spins and theorizes all kinds of abstractions about their form, while only the person who has a natural relationship to the notes, to whom the musical concepts arise, can truly appreciate the notes, in that the sound fixed in the notes comes to life in such a way that the sound lives in the mind. Only in relation to what lives in the mind can that which is recorded with the external note symbols have any meaning.

When it comes to a building that is intended to serve true spiritual science, it is only natural to have to deal with such misconceptions, which come from false mysticism, false theosophy, and all kinds of adventurous ideas. If the intention is not to express some kind of empty concepts in stone and wood, but to depict something artistic, then it is eminently necessary that nothing be given a symbolic form by a philosophical or theosophical idea or some mystical non-idea , but it is necessary that what emanates from the idea, what the mind experiences inwardly, shapes itself through the creative power of the soul into form and color, so that the art does not need an explanation, but explains itself. Art that needs an explanation is not art at all.

The aim is that anyone who understands the language of this structure should not need an explanation of the structure. Of course, no one who has not learned Spanish cannot understand a Spanish poem. Those who understand the language of spiritual science do not need an explanation of the structure; for them, without a word being said, there is something self-explanatory in this structure because they have their joy, their upliftment, an inner realization of the soul forces from the direct connection with what is standing there, with what really lives in the form and in the color. One would like to say that a picture is no longer a real work of art, where one needs to write below what it actually represents. A picture is only a work of art when one has only to look at it and when all that the picture has to say follows from what one sees. If we therefore seek symbolism or allegory in the Dornach building, if we seek something that requires us to answer the question, “What does this or that mean?” after every step, then nothing will be found in the Dornach building that corresponds to this. But if we seek something in the Dornach building that provides answers to the question, “Which forms does one find beautiful who has a spiritual-scientific feeling? What forms would he who wishes to gather his spiritual strength around him like to have around him? Then the answer to these questions will be found in the Dornach building.

But in a certain respect spiritual science is something that seeks to establish itself as a new element in our cultural life. It is therefore understandable that such a setting must also be something that, in a certain way, introduces something new into our artistic life. And here, at this point, I would like to emphasize that I ask you not to believe that what one might have in mind as architecture, or as an artistic expression of what spiritual science can give, has already been achieved in the Dornach building. The Dornach building is a beginning, and as a beginning it is as incomplete as any beginning can be. The limited funds that were available, despite the fact that the building took up considerable funds for certain concepts, only allowed the very first step to be taken. And even the work that was necessary from circles of friends could initially only make a very first start on what can present itself to the soul as a new style of art, as it must arise out of spiritual science itself.

Therefore, I would ask you to consider this Dornach building only from the point of view of a very first, primitive beginning, with all the defects and imperfections of a beginning; to consider it only from the point of view of asserting aspects of artistic creation of forms that correspond to spiritual-scientific feeling and sensing, not to spiritual-scientific thinking, but to feeling and sensing when it is artistically intensified. What is being built today, still very imperfectly, on that beautiful hill outside, is really the primitive beginning of something that will one day be formed into a real beauty, into an adequate expression of what spiritual science has to give to human cultural development. Therefore, it must seem quite understandable when so many objections are raised from this or that side against what is being built out there, when so much is found to be imperfect and incomplete. But I would like to mention some of the, one could say, basic feelings that can guide one in the architecture of such a building.

As I said, I cannot go into details today due to the limited time. I would just like to recall a saying of Michelangelo, in reference to the old master of architectural art, Vitruvius, a saying that truly reflects the idea, the essence of architecture. Michelangelo says: Only he who knows human anatomy is capable of truly grasping the inner necessity that underlies an architectural plan. It is a strange saying, but for someone who can engage with such things, it is perfectly understandable. When we survey the whole of nature, when we bring to our soul all the forces at work in nature, when we bring to our soul the formations that live in nature, then we ask ourselves: for an unbiased observer of the whole of nature and the world, where does all this world-becoming, all this world activity, point to? They point ultimately to the human form. In the human form, there is something before us of which we can say, in terms of form and in terms of the way it expresses itself, that Goethe's words apply: 'Man is placed at the summit of nature, so he regards himself as a whole nature that has to produce a summit within itself once again. To do so, he elevates himself by permeating himself with all perfections and virtues, invoking choice, order, harmony and meaning, and finally rising to the production of the work of art, which takes a prominent place alongside his other deeds and works.

That that which man himself then reshapes when he, as an artist, continues nature, so to speak, will therefore gain the most diverse points of reference precisely from what has been shaped from the whole world and its secrets into the human form, the human structure with all its gestures, with all its life. Today, it is not possible to go into architectural styles or the development of architecture. Those who are truly familiar with the development of architecture know that, while it is true that the essence of artistic creation is most difficult to see in architectural art, it is also expressed in this architectural art. But because this essence of artistic creation is most difficult to see in architectural art, it shall be shown in sculpture. The same could be shown in painting, in music, in other arts.

In our time, precisely because the materialistic view and attitude has taken hold of everything, there is little real insight into what the essence of artistic creation actually is, which is the emergence of art from the inner soul activity of the human being. Today, the artist is so often obliged to rely on the model, and the person who looks at something that is a work of art has the first question: Is this natural? Does it depict this or that naturally? Such judgments do not belong to real art, but to the decline of art. Real art is connected with what happens inwardly in man. When the sculptor creates a face, something of the feelings and inner soul experiences must truly live in him, which the physiognomy, which even the gesture of the face, conjures up from the depths of the soul. If it lives in the soul of the artist, then what lives in him feeling and creating can pour out into what he shapes.

The forms that we reproduce architecturally are not so close to what we experience directly or what lives in our soul. But in a certain way, what can be architecturally designed does arise from what is experienced in the human soul. I have already indicated how the gesture is continued, how that which can be created in the environment emerges from the movement, from the gesture - not from the gesture that the physical hand makes, but from the gesture that the spiritual organs make when they want to grasp the immediate environment. What is experienced inwardly, to be shaped in forms and colors and in other artistic means so that one stands in everything in it, so that what one creates in space as forms and colors is a continuation of the inner being that flows out into the forms, into all curves and inclinations, into all colors that cover the walls: that is what spiritual science wants to show.

Let us look at how the building should be designed from this point of view. As was explained in the description of the genesis, the challenge is to present to the audience's eyes and ears something that becomes clear to human knowledge through the results of spiritual science. Spiritual science is something that should be absorbed by the soul in a concentrated way; those who want to absorb what is presented in spiritual science must be concentrated. We are therefore dealing with a space for the audience and a space for what is to be presented from the sources of spiritual science.

When a person is collected, he must close himself off from the outside world; he must, as it were, hold his powers together. This is the outer nature of the structure. What kind of space will have to be created if what is in the people who are in such a space is to express itself meaningfully, but also to continue in the surroundings? It is quite clear, not for abstract concepts but for artistic sensibilities, that a rotunda must be created and that, above all, the collection can best be presented in a dome-shaped space. The dome-shaped conclusion expresses what is really alive there, not in a symbolic or allegorical way, but rather in such a way that, as it were, an excavation is made in the room, I would say, that the space is pushed back, and the way the space is pushed back results in the architectural form. In essence, therefore, such a building, which is based on interior design, must be a building that takes its form from the fact that what happens in it vibrates and bumps into its surroundings, and that the vibrations persist. What I have only hinted at so far could be developed further. It would then become clear that two rotundas are created by the two departments - the one derived from the humanities and the other from the audience; two rotundas that are connected, however, that must belong together. This would become clear, not through abstract thought, but by feeling it out in a very artistic way. The two interconnected round structures would arise in the middle, overlapping and closed at the top by parts of spherical surfaces (Figs. 1, 3, 8, 9).

It goes without saying that the exterior architecture, I would say, is of lesser importance for such a building, which is dedicated to inner contemplation and concentration. Everything that seeks to be artistically shaped in forms and colors must arise from within, must be projected from the inside out. What is formed on the outside is, so to speak, that which arises from the fact that, by repelling the waves of the world, the other waves of the world approach again, meet with what reaches out into space; and in the encounter, what is formed is, if I may use the word, the outer form, the outer decoration. But the whole must be formed out of this fundamental idea. Out of this fundamental idea, but out of the felt, sensed fundamental idea, this outer form necessarily arose. Technically, it was not at all easy to execute what you see executed there: to join spherical surfaces together in such a way that the thing can technically exist. And I may mention here that we were able to solve this problem, which has not been solved in architecture before, through the insight and efforts of a Basel engineer friend of ours. In this way we gave the outer form.

In the same way, we must think about how the building itself is to be designed. If you walk around the building, you will find three gates (Figs. 3-9). These three gates are designed in such a way that you may wonder about their forms. Why are these forms exactly as they appear to us? Is there an answer to the question: Do these gates have to be designed in this way?

Yes, you can get an answer, but it cannot be an abstract, philosophical one, nor can it be an unartistic one , but one could say something like this: Yes, I also know something else where something comes in from the outside into an interior, how people will enter through the gate into the interior, I know, for example, the human eye. Light enters through the eye to do its work, the weaving of light, inside the human being. And now do not ask for some abstract idea of how the eye is formed, but feel how the light necessarily evokes a very specific design of the eye. In order for light to come from the outside into the human interior, it needs the eye; in order for the light to propagate, it must come into the interior through something that is designed like the eye. Look at our gates, then you will have to give the answer: Let us assume that there are people who want to gain a certain relationship with spiritual science; these people enter this room from the outside through the gate. The fact that they enter, felt and sensed vividly, should be expressed in these forms of the gate.

And again, we enter the room (Figs. 28, 29). From the way I have depicted it, you can see that there are spectators sitting in it. In the smaller room, which is also a round structure and adjoins the other (Figs. 55, 62), something is taking place that is a revelation. It is not a ghostly or spectral revelation, but a natural revelation of the results of spiritual science, only it is completely transformed from the philosophical-theoretical into the artistic. There are spectators concentrating on what is happening in the space of the performance. The spectators' attention rushes through the space. Now let us imagine that this space, completely animated by the attention of the spectators, should reveal itself within itself. The whole atmosphere, which, so to speak, must take hold of the soul when it feels: There are spectators, there are listeners, there are attentive people, people in whose souls what is happening before them is taking place, this whole atmosphere, this feeling is continued in the structure of the columns that run along the room, is continued in the peculiar sculptural forms that .

There is a single axis of symmetry that runs from the entrance through the center of the room, and the shapes on the individual columns indicate that the audience's attention is directed towards the performance space, and that what emanates from the performance space in turn comes towards them (Fig. 29). If you look at what the columns are supporting, you will recognize from the forms carved out of the wood how attention really does encounter what comes towards it from the representational space, and how this is continued. It is not just depicted, it is really captured in the gestures in these wooden structures in the living life.

The whole thing is designed down to the material. I have heard it said that it is a complicated idea of these Theosophists out there in Dornach that they make their wooden columns in such a way that they always use different woods for the individual columns. Such a question arises precisely from the urge to get something philosophical and theoretical as an answer, and not an artistic feeling, not something that reaches in from direct life. What can one say in answer to someone who asks: Why do you make your columns out of different types of wood? One can perhaps answer: Have you ever seen a violin with only A strings? No, there are different strings; it has to do with the design of the violin. The whole structure is built for life, for direct feeling and sensing, right down to the material. Therefore, the structure should express what lives in spiritual science completely artistically and only artistically, not abstractly meaningfully. It was, of course, necessary for the individual artistic fields to develop in very specific ways, because spiritual science, as it were, seeks to penetrate the secrets of existence in the sensory world. This means that what would otherwise be developed as art only in direct connection with sensuality is shaped in a different way.

The interior of that dome – which can only be called a dome in a figurative sense, because it is not a dome at all, but only a spherical termination – this interior is painted (Figs. 29, 62). But this painting is based on something other than what usually underlies painting. Of course, the painting cannot depict what really is in the materialistic sense of the word. This painting shows the way in which a being, an object, a landscape is illuminated, what flits across the external material reality; it shows what in the next moment can no longer be there, it shows the fleeting, that for which the objects are only the cause of its being there. In a still completely different sense, our painting must have an effect.

Do you remember what I said before: that the essence of artistic creation is that the artist himself is present in what is created by the artist, that the artist, by shaping the material, shapes something that lives within him, where he is inwardly present, not painting after something external, but rather shaping the external itself according to what is within him. That this can also be transferred precisely to the principle of painting may not yet be universally understood today. But there is a way of thinking about it: How would you experience it in your mind if you, I would say, saw the world through and through red? Would it affect your mind differently? That the question is justified was known to those who had a somewhat deeper connection to art at all times. Goethe, for example, remarked that if someone wanted to depict how, at the end of earthly existence, the wrath of the world would pour out over all that is sinful in humanity, this divine wrath would have to shine in a red-hot light. Here we see how colors merge into the moral, into the soul-spiritual.

What do we experience in red, in green, in blue? Just as the form can be experienced, so can the color. Then one is not dealing with a reproduction of the colors of what light offers as a coloration; then one crawls into the color, so to speak, and experiences the essence of the color, and by living out in the color, one creates from the essence of the color itself. Thus, in our entire wall painting, nothing should be copied, but from the inner reason of things, insofar as they have something to do with color or with the moral, the spiritual-soul, which is expressed in color, the form should be created from the color itself. What is painted on the walls should express itself, not something else; it should speak to us through itself.

And so the whole structure is formed in such a way that the walls, as it were, are not real walls. The spiritual scientist is convinced that, just as he as a physical person is surrounded by air and the rest of the physical world, he as a spiritual being is surrounded by the spiritual, with all its entities and processes, which fills and fulfills the world. While a building is otherwise designed to be thought of as complete, it must be said of our building that, however much it is a frame for the gathering audience, it is at the same time something that cancels itself out. Seen from within, this ceiling should give the impression that basically there is nothing there, but that we know that by looking up at this ceiling, this ceiling lifts itself up; it becomes a spiritual direction, into infinite spiritual expanses it is the beginning. We will basically have no walls despite the frame, but something that is permeable, that leads into distant worlds, into vast worlds. And it is the same with architecture, with sculpture, with column forms, with everything that surrounds us. It should not shut us off; it should lead us out into the expanses and distances of the spiritual world. The walls must be placed in such a way that one says: when one takes the step out, that must be the first thing, and if one pursues this further, one comes out into the expanses of the spiritual world. Walls that destroy themselves through what they are, that is what, in a certain respect, is the goal of a new art, even if, as I have indicated, it is only in its very beginning.

And something else may be said. Anyone who enters our building today will be able to say: Yes, everything that is so often regarded as the actual architecturally correct, as the noblest forms of architecture, is basically no longer there here. And there is some truth to that. If we take an extreme case and look at a Greek building in its harmonious forms, built by the forces that act outside as spatial forces, brought into beautiful harmony, then we cannot say: our building is designed in the same way. The Greek building is designed in such a way that it represents the highest level of utilization of the forces of space, of pressure, or, as they are called, of gravity, which otherwise fills space. In our case, a breath of the living and weaving permeates the entire building. While we have something mathematical in Greek temple construction, something that comes from the mere interplay of forces, which is nevertheless inanimate, even if it is composed in the most beautiful harmony, in rhythm and proportion, our building is conceived in such a way that one can have the feeling that something alive is quietly passing through its lines, as something highly alive passes through the human form. Life pulses and vibrates through that which is expressed in forms. This is true; but therein lies the progress of architecture.

I would need many hours to discuss the architectural principles of style; how Greek gradually leads to that which brings life into architecture. In the future, the hitherto dead architectural form will truly come to life. We can only make an imperfect very first start. But this start must be made, and something dynamic, something invigorating, something that moves must be introduced into the purely physical-mathematical forms. Here, too, we may refer to Michelangelo's saying: Only he who knows human anatomy is able to form a true conception of the inner necessity on which an architectural plan is based.

But we find that when we look at the human form as it we see in the truly spiritually understood anatomy, that alongside all its movement and life, there is something that already presents itself in life as something dead, as something merely mathematical: the way in which the structure of our bone system relates to each other. The way in which we physically move the various parts of our skeletal system in relation to each other shows that something dead and mathematical is present in the life of a human being, that death is contained in it. And now it is possible to bring just as much life into the dead structure as there is death in the living human being. And that is what has been attempted with our structure. It has been lifted out of the rigidity of the merely mathematical, of merely following lines and adding forces. It has been imbued with life, with organicity, as much as there is dead matter in a living human being. The living element in the human being can only exist because the dead is mixed in with it in a certain way.

Our building takes on the appearance of life because what is merely joined together dead is given the appearance of life, the appearance of the living is lent to it. And at one point, it is shown what underlies it as a basic idea of spiritual science, that this spiritual science should stir up something in the soul that brings the soul into intimate contact with life. Spiritual science should make people life-friendly and devoted to life. In spiritual science, people should find something that introduces them to life, that makes them strong and powerful for life, which is becoming ever more complicated. Therefore, our building must also have something that directly shows how to not just put something together and paint it with the means that are available to us as human beings, but something must be presented here that expresses the tendency for our building to be in close contact with the whole world so that not only we as human beings work on the building but the whole world works on it.

This is attempted by transforming the earlier glass painting into a kind of glass etching (Figs. 102, 103). A special kind of artistic treatment of the windows in the Dornach building will be found. I can only hint at it. The window panes will not be treated in the way that stained glass was treated in the past. Instead, the panes of different colors will be treated in such a way that a special etching technique is used to scrape out the form from the glass, so that the corresponding figures are created by the fact that the light from outside can penetrate through the different thicknesses of the glass and the outer light, by holding the glass against it, works together with us. A glass pane like this is not a work of art in itself; it is only when it is installed and the external light passes through the glass pane that the work of art is created. Glass etching, through which sunlight penetrates directly into the interior of the room through various drawings on the glass. Here we have the whole world working together in the way that light can come in from the outside into the interior, which, during events, usually has to be illuminated with the artificial light of the modern age, with electric light.

And so it must be said that such a building is not intended to to represent something particularly abstract, something quite strange, which a few good-for-nothings of life perceive as a pleasant place to stay, but rather it should be presented in such a way that it is sought out by precisely those who need a boost for their lives, so that they can get to know life in its depths. It was not allowed to put something there that has nothing to do with what today's culture is. Therefore, the most recent material was used quite consciously. In addition to the part that was made of wood, for reasons that cannot be discussed today, the most recent concrete material was used, and an attempt was made, because artistic creation must really shape out of the material, to use this concrete material in such a way as to express, materially, if I may use the paradox, the most spiritual with this most recent, most material product. Not something outlandish should be collected, but that which the time yields should be used for the ideas that are supposed to bring, precisely for the time that works through external materiality, the spiritual, the ideal, the spiritual-soul.

Next to the building, you can see something else that many people today find particularly crazy (Figs. 100, 101). This is something that arose from the question: How should the whole building be heated? For certain reasons, one did not want what is in this annex to be inside the building itself, mainly for artistic reasons. Should one now build a chimney in the current way, should one put all that such a chimney requires with a boiler house in the way it is often put in the world? That was the question, and at the same time, the task of using concrete for such a construction had to be solved. Now this had to be solved: what concrete casing should be given to such a boiler house? How should what is formed in concrete be constructed? Certainly, the forms that have emerged will not be understood by very many people today. But that is how it is with everything that is built as something new. But people will learn to understand.

The boiler house is only completely finished when smoke comes out of it; that belongs to the forms. And people will one day understand that the forms carved out of the concrete material really relate to what happens inside, to the whole idea of the building – artistically speaking – like the nutshell to the nut. Just as we feel that the nutshell is designed for the nut – the nutshell has to be designed for the sake of the nut, and it would be ugly if it were not designed to be a proper shell for the nut – so what is going on in the boiler house must be enveloped in such a shell, like the strange concrete building that stands next to our Dornach building. So you see that artistic considerations have played a part everywhere. They were questions of artistic feeling, questions of feeling, not questions of allegorical or symbolic meaning.

I have taken up a great deal of your time and yet I have only been able to present to you, I might say, the most elementary main ideas of our Dornach building, without going into the actual fundamental artistic aspects. But perhaps it is precisely through what I have taken the liberty of discussing with you that it has become apparent how such a building must be formed, so to speak, out of the needs of modern life. And anyone who visits this building will also be able to find that this beautiful landscape, which lies around the Dornach hill, this beautiful landscape that continues on all sides, has something in the Dornach building that can be said in the same way as for many successful buildings: they really grow out of the earth, it is as if the earth were sending the power upwards for their creation. Those who allow the forms of mountains and hills, the whole of nature out there, to work on their soul, will find in the outer form of the Dornach building, to a certain extent, an architectural continuation of all of nature.

Therefore, those who were able to erect this building in this beautiful country can greet with particular joy that this has become possible, that it has been shaped by the circumstances. And I believe that those for whom this building is so close to their worldview are filled with a deep sense of gratitude that it was possible to erect this building in this part of the country. It may be called a kind fate that those people who are out there in the world, one in this, the other in that profession, one in this, the other in that place in the world, may stop at certain times of the year on the beautiful Dornach hill and get there, for what they have to do in the outside world, strength of life, strengthening of life, through that collection which is to be sought in our building and which is to be expressed through the forms, through the art of building.

In this context, it may perhaps be mentioned that it is perfectly understandable, indeed self-evident, that people who, through their lives, are able to be where they want, to build where they want, will build their houses near the building. It is indeed a great joy to see, from many points of view, that the building will be surrounded by a number of houses, perhaps later a larger number of houses, in which people will live who are in tune with the purpose of the building. But the main thing is not what is called this colony; the main thing is the building, which wants to be neither a church nor a temple, but precisely that which can be called an embrace of the spiritual-scientific world view. And because this building wants to be what has been described, it wants to serve people who are out there in the world, some of whom work here and others there. Our worldview cannot have much time for theosophical or mystical worldviews, or whatever you want to call them, through which people withdraw from the immediate life of the present, gathering in colonies to pursue their whims and fantasies and dreams in idleness. Spiritual science is not intended for idlers, for people who do nothing but sit together dreaming in what they call colonies. Our world view is not intended for them, but for people who want to work diligently on what is being achieved in the present for human labor, for human salvation and human progress; for these people, who are in the prime of life, for people who have something to do in life, this structure is intended. They should only be there during the times that are their life Sundays, their life holidays, when they come together to gain strength for the innermost forces of the soul for the rest of their active lives. We certainly do not want to found a colony for idlers, but we want to create something that serves life as it presents itself to people in our time, in our cultural epoch. We want to serve what is demanded of people in our cultural epoch. Of course, this is not a criticism of people who want to retire or have a summer house and recover, so that something can arise that can be called a colony surrounding the building. From certain points of view, this will have great advantages, but the basic idea requires that I express what I have just expressed.

Anyone who has grasped what has been said about spiritual science in connection with the design of this house in Dornach will no longer need to be told that this spiritual-scientific worldview is not hostile or opposed to this or that religious belief, this or that way of relating to the supersensible world. On the contrary, spiritual science wants to bring to the human soul that which lives behind physical-sensory phenomena, wants to bring this to the human soul in a way that has not been possible through the achievements of human culture to date, but which is demanded by the future. Just as from a certain point in the development of humanity, the Copernican worldview, the worldview of a Galileo, a Kepler, everything that is connected with modern science, was required for the outer space, so in our time something is required for the life of the soul, something that must come in, just as the scientific worldview has come in, something that will serve life in its moral , its spiritual-soul development, just as natural science has served material life.

Just as progress was indispensable and necessary there, so progress in the spiritual-soul sphere is indispensable and necessary, and in the future people will be just as unable to live without what spiritual science has to give as people today are unable to live without the achievements of natural science. Just as true scientific progress cannot in any way hinder religious elevation to the supersensible, the religious connection of the soul with the supersensible, so the spiritual scientific world view will not do this either. On the contrary, this may be particularly emphasized: While the natural-scientific world view easily leads man to what may be called a soul that does not want to concern itself with anything supersensible, that believes that a satisfactory world picture can be formed from what natural science itself provides, spiritual science shows us that man's soul is in contact with supersensible worlds. And by opening up these supersensible worlds to the human soul, it will deepen precisely the religious need.

Just as our building does not want to be a temple or a church, so spiritual science does not want to be anything that replaces any religion. On the contrary, anyone who penetrates into the depths of the world in a spiritual scientific way will be led back to religious life. What the individual then does with his religious belief is his personal business; spiritual science does not concern itself with this. Spiritual science aims to found a spiritual-scientific world view; it does not alienate people from their religious beliefs; it can only lead them more intimately, more deeply, more energetically into their religious life. And if one were to really see through the very core of true spiritual science, then religious beliefs would have very little to object to against this spiritual science. Rather, they would say: “Due to many things that have arisen in the has estranged many a soul, but now a current is coming that brings people together with the supersensible worlds; this will awaken and fertilize religious life in its depths. Once people have gained an understanding for it, they will no longer see spiritual science as something that encroaches on the religious communities, but as something that must necessarily come into the world, but that comes into the world in such a way that a religious person must welcome it as something gratifying.

But here too we see that there is still much remains to be done if our contemporaries are to develop a true and genuine understanding of what spiritual science wants and what it has to do in all areas of life – for example, in relation to the arts, but one could say the same in relation to social issues – in a world in which human conditions are becoming increasingly more complicated and complex as we look towards the future. And for many areas, indeed for all areas of life, it can be shown that spiritual science wants to be there to sow the seeds of renewal of life as it will be needed. This renewal of life, its inner necessity can be recognized by anyone who sees through life. The task of spiritual science is not to replace religion, nor to found another religion. The task of spiritual science is not to appear somehow polemically or critically against what has been artistically created so far. But like every genuine world view, one that takes hold not only of our abstract intellect, our ideas and concepts, but of the whole human being, must express itself artistically, so must spiritual science express itself artistically. And the first step in this direction is the building in Dornach – a primitive beginning, as I said.

It will be understood that spiritual science is able to deepen religious life and to fertilize art. But spiritual science wants to be a science, albeit a science that is close to the most intimate needs of the human soul. And it wants to be such a science, a strong promoter of the life that our time needs. Therefore, for everything artistic, for everything social, for religious and many other special areas of life, we can say what Goethe said in relation to the religious feeling of man:

He who possesses science and art also has religion. Those who do not possess these two, have religion.

Those who truly possess spiritual science and who immerse themselves in the artistic perception that flows from spiritual science in a feeling-based way, for them it can be said, once again summarizing a feeling, this time a Goethean feeling, which is also what every stone, every piece of wood in our building should express: Those who possess science (in the sense of spiritual science) and those who possess art (especially art in the sense of spiritual science) also possess religion. This is what can be said for religion and for many other areas of life from the point of view of spiritual science. Therefore, the feelings that should flow through my reflections today may end with Goethe's words – even if this only refers to the religious current, what applies to religion also applies to the other areas of life:

Those who possess science and art also have religion.
Those who do not possess these two may have religion.

In the last lecture we retraced the past of man more particularly from the point of view of his form and his body. We will now consider the past as regards his states of consciousness.

The following questions often arise before the mind: Is man the only being upon Earth who possesses self consciousness? Or again: What is the relation between the consciousness of man and that of the animals, plants and metals? Have these lower kingdoms of life any consciousness at all?

Imagine that a tiny insect crawling on the body of a man could see only his finger. It could have no conception whatever of the organism as a whole, nor of the soul. We ourselves are in exactly the same position as regards the Earth and other beings indwelling it. A materialist has no conception of the soul of the Earth and, as a natural result, he is not aware of the existence of his own soul. Similarly, if a tiny insect is unaware of the soul of man, this is because it has no soul with which to perceive.

The Earth-soul is much more sublime than the soul of man and man knows nothing of it. In reality, all beings have consciousness but man's consciousness is quite different, inasmuch as in our age it is perfectly attuned to the physical world.

As well as the waking state (corresponding to the physical world), man passes through other conditions of consciousness. During dreamless sleep, his consciousness lives in the devachanic world. The consciousness of the plant is always devachanic. If a plant ‘suffers,’ the suffering brings about a change in devachanic consciousness. The animal has astral consciousness, corresponding to the dream-life of man.

These three states of consciousness are very different. In the physical world we evolve ideas simply by means of the sense organs and the outer realities with which these organs put us into touch. In the astral world, we perceive the surrounding milieu only in the form of pictures, feeling at the same time as if we were part of them.

Why does man, who is conscious in the physical world, feel himself separate from all that is not himself? It is because he receives all his impressions from a milieu which he perceives very distinctly outside his body. In the astral world, on the contrary, we do not perceive by means of the senses but by the sympathy which makes us penetrate to the heart of everything we encounter. Astral consciousness is not confined within a relatively limited field; in a certain sense it is liquid, fluidic. In the devachanic world, consciousness is as diffused as a gas might be. There is no resemblance whatever with physical consciousness, into which nothing penetrates except by way of the senses.

What was the object of this shutting-off of consciousness which followed the stage of imaginative consciousness? If such a shutting-off had not taken place, man could never have said ‘I’ of himself. The divine germ could not have penetrated into his being in the course of evolution if it had not been for the crystallisation of his physical body. Where, then, was this divine Spirit before the solidification of the Earth and of consciousness? Genesis tells us: “The Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.” The divine Spirit, the spark of the Ego, was still in the astral world.

In higher Devachan, beyond the fourth degree, referred to in occultism as Arupa (without body), where Akasha (negative substance) has its rise—there is the home of the consciousness of the minerals. We must try to reach a deep and true understanding of the mineral kingdom and discover our moral link with it. The Rosicrucians in the Middle Ages taught their disciples to revere the chastity of the mineral,—“Imagine,” they said, “that while retaining his faculties of thinking and feeling, a man becomes as pure and free from desire as the mineral,—He then possesses an infallible power—a spiritual power.”—If we can say that the spirits of the several minerals are living in Devachan, we can say equally correctly that the spirit of the minerals is like a man who might live only with devachanic consciousness.

In other beings, then, the existence of consciousness must not be denied. Man has traversed all these degrees of consciousness on the descending curve of evolution. Originally he resembled the minerals, in this sense, that his Ego lived in a higher world and guided him from above. But the aim of evolution is to free man from being subject to beings endowed with a consciousness higher than his own and to bear him to a point where he himself is fully conscious in higher worlds.

All these levels of consciousness are contained within man today:

1. The consciousness of the mineral-corresponding to deep sleep.
2. The consciousness of the plant-ordinary sleep.
3. Animal consciousness-dream-life.
4. Physical, objective consciousness-the normal waking state. The two former states are atavistic survivals.
5. A consciousness which repeats the third stage but retains the acquired quality of objectivity. Images have definite colours and are realised as being quite distinct from the perceiver. The subjective sense of attraction or repulsion vanishes. In this new imaginative consciousness, the faculty of reason that has been acquired in the physical world retains its own powers.
6. Sleep itself—not the dream—here becomes a conscious state. We do not only behold images but we enter into the living essence of beings and hear their inner tones. In the physical world we give names to things but the names are merely outer appellations. Only man can express his own being from within by saying ‘I’—the ineffable name of conscious individuality. By this word we distinguish our own personality from the rest of the universe. But when we become conscious of the world of sound, each being, each thing communicates its own true name; in clairaudience we hear the sound which expresses its innermost being and rings forth as a tone in the universe that is distinct from all others.
7. One stage further and deep sleep becomes a conscious state. Description is impossible, for this condition passes beyond the limits of comparison. All that can be said is that it exists.

Such are the seven states of consciousness through which man passes, and he will pass through others too. There is always one central state, with three beneath and three above. The three higher states reproduce, in a higher sense, the three lower. A traveler is always at the centre of the horizon. Each state of consciousness develops through seven states of life, and each state of life through seven states of form. Thus seven states of form always constitute one state of life; seven states of life compose one whole period of planetary evolution, for example that of our Earth.

The seven states of life culminate in the formation of seven kingdoms, of which four are actually visible: the mineral, plant, animal and human kingdoms. In each state of consciousness, therefore, man passes through 7 x 7 states of form this brings us to 7 x 7 x 7 metamorphoses (343).

If we could envisage in one single tableau the 343 states of form, we should have a picture of the third Logos.

If we could envisage the 49 states of life, we should have a picture of the second Logos.

If we could envisage the 7 states of consciousness, we should have a conception of the first Logos.

Evolution consists in the mutual interaction of all these seven forms. In order to pass from one form to the other, a new spirit is necessary (the action of the Holy Spirit). In order to pass from one state of life to another, a new power is necessary (the action of the Son). In order to pass from one state of consciousness to another, a new consciousness is necessary (the action of the Father).

Christ Jesus brought a new state of life and was in very truth the Word made Flesh. With the coming of the Christ, a new force entered into the world, preparing a new Earth in a new relationship with the heavens.

[ 1 ] In this chapter we shall describe a number of cases from the practice of the Clinical and Therapeutic Institute at Arlesheim. They will show how, with the help of a knowledge of spiritual man, it is possible to achieve such a thorough picture of the disease that diagnosis directly teaches us the remedy which should be used. Fundamental to this is a view which recognizes the process of illness and of healing as one complete cycle. The illness begins with an irregularity in the composition of the human organism with respect to its parts, which have been described in this book. It has already reached a certain stage when the patient is received for treatment. Our object must now be to bring about a reversal of all the processes which have taken place in the organism since the beginning of the illness, so that we arrive at length at the previous state of health of the organism. A process of this kind, reversing on itself, cannot be accomplished without the organism as a whole undergoing some loss in the forces of growth, which are equivalent to those forces which the human organism - needs during childhood in order to increase in size. The therapeutic substances must therefore be so composed as not only to bring the diseased process back to its starting-point, but also to support the reduced vitality again. To some extent this latter effect must be left to dietary treatment. But as a general rule, in the more serious cases of illness, the organism is not in a condition to evolve sufficient vitality in the assimilation of its food. Therefore the actual treatment will also have to be constituted so as to give the organism the necessary support in this respect. In the typical remedies supplied by our clinical/therapeutic institutes, this provision has been made throughout. Hence it will only be realized on closer inspection, why a given preparation contains particular constituents. In estimating the course of the disease, not only the localized pathological process, but the changes suffered by the organism as a whole must be considered and included in the reversing process. How this is to be conceived in detail will be shown by the individual cases we shall now describe. We shall then continue the more general considerations.

First Case

[ 2 ] A twenty-six years old woman patient. The whole personality reveals an extraordinarily labile condition. It is clear from the patient that that part of the organism, which we have here called the astral body, is in a state of excessive activity. One observes that the ego-organization has only slight control over the astral body. As soon as the patient begins to do some work, the astral body develops a state of agitation. The ego-organization tries to make itself felt, but is constantly repulsed. This causes the temperature to rise in such a case. A well regulated digestion depends mainly on a normal ego-organization. The impotence of this patient's ego-organization expresses itself in an obstinate constipation. The migraine-like conditions and vomiting from which she suffers are a consequence of this disturbance in the digestive activity. In sleep, her impotent ego-organization shows itself in a deficient organic activity from below upward and impaired expiration. The consequence is an excessive accumulation of carbonic acid in the organism during sleep, which shows itself organically in palpitations on awakening; psychologically in anxiety, and screaming. Physical examination can show nothing other than a lack of those forces which bring about a regular connection of the astral, etheric and physical bodies. Owing to the excessive activity of the astral body in itself, too little of its powers can flow over into the physical and the etheric. The latter, therefore, have remained too delicate in their development during the period of growth. This has shown itself on examination in the patient's slight build and weak body, and also in the fact that she complains of frequent back pain. The latter arises because in the activity of the spinal cord the ego-organization must make itself felt most. The patient talks of many dreams. The reason is that the astral body, separated in sleep from the physical and the etheric, unfolds its own excessive activity. We must start with the fact that the ego-organization needs to be strengthened and the over-activity of the astral body lowered. The former is attained by selecting a remedy that is suitable to support the weakened ego-organization in the digestive tract. Such a remedy is to be found in copper. Applied in the form of a copper ointment compress to the region of the loins, it has a strengthening effect on the deficient inner warmth coming from the ego-organization. This is observed in a reduction of the abnormal activity of the heart and the disappearance of anxiety. The excessive activity of the astral body in itself is combated by the smallest doses of lead taken orally. Lead draws the astral body together and awakens in it the forces through which it unites more intensely with the physical body and the etheric. (Lead poisoning is composed of an over-intense union of the astral with the etheric and physical bodies, so that the latter are made subject to excessive breakdown processes.) The patient recovered visibly under this treatment. Her labile condition gave way to a certain inner firmness and assurance. Her moods, recovering from their disrupted state, grew inwardly calm and contented. The constipation and back pain disappeared; likewise the migrainous conditions and the headaches. The patient's capacity for work was restored.

Second Case

[ 3 ] A forty-eight year old man. He had been a robust child with an active inner life. During the war, as he informed us, he had undergone a five months' treatment for nephritis and been discharged as cured. Married at the age of thirty-five, he had five healthy children; a sixth child died at birth. At the age of thirty-three, as a consequence of mental overwork, he began to suffer from depression, tiredness and apathy. These conditions increased continuously. At the same time he began to feel spiritual despair. He is confronted by questions, in which his profession—that of a teacher—appears to him in a negative light, which he cannot meet with anything positive. The illness shows an astral body which has too little affinity with the etheric and physical, and is rigid in itself. The physical and etheric bodies are thus enabled to assert their own inherent qualities. The feeling of the etheric not being rightly united with the astral body gives rise to states of depression; while the deficient union with the physical produces fatigue and apathy. That the patient is in a state of spiritual despair is due to the fact that the astral body cannot make use of the physical and the etheric. Consistently with all this, his sleep is good; for the astral body has little connection with the etheric and physical. For the same reason he has great difficulty in waking up. The astral body is loath to enter the physical. It is only in the evening, when the physical and etheric bodies are tired, that their normal union with the astral begins to take place. Therefore the patient becomes properly awake in the evening. This whole condition indicates that it is necessary first of all to strengthen the astral body in its activity. This can always be attained by giving arsenic internally in the form of a mineral water. It becomes clear that the particular individual is seen to gain more command over his body after some time. The connection between the astral and the etheric is strengthened; the depression, apathy and fatigue cease. But the physical body also, which through its long defective union with the astral has become sluggish and immobile, must be helped; this is done by giving treatment with a mild dose of phosphorous. Phosphorous supports the ego-organization, enabling it to overcome the resistance of the physical body. Rosemary baths are used to open a way out for the accumulated products of metabolism. Curative eurythmy re-establishes the harmony of the individual members of the organism (nerve-sense system, rhythmic system, motor and metabolic system), impaired as they are by the inaction of the astral body. Finally, by giving the patient elder-flower tea, the metabolism, which has gradually become sluggish owing to the inactivity of the astral body, is restored to a normal condition. We were able to observe a complete cure in this case.

Third Case

[ 4 ] This patient was a musician, thirty-one years old, who visited our clinic during a concert tour. He was suffering from a severe inflammatory and functional disturbance of the urinary tract, catarrhal symptoms, fever, excessive bodily fatigue, general weakness, and incapacity for work.

[ 5 ] The past history of the patient showed that he had repeatedly suffered the same condition. Examination of the patient's spiritual state revealed a hypersensitive and exhausted astral body. The susceptibility of the physical and etheric body to catarrhal and inflammatory conditions was a consequence of this. Already as a child, the patient had a weak physical body, badly supported by the astral. Hence measles, scarlet fever, chicken-pox, whooping-cough and frequent attacks of sore throat; at the age of fourteen, there was an inflammation of the urethra, which recurred at the age of twenty-nine in conjunction with cystitis. At the age of eighteen, pneumonia and pleurisy; at twenty-nine, pleurisy again, following on an attack of influenza; and at the age of thirty, catarrhal inflammation of the frontal sinus. There is also a perpetual tendency to conjunctivitis.

During the two months which he spent at our hospital the patient's temperature curve rose at first to 39.9¡C, after which, it descended, only to rise again on the fourteenth day; it then fluctuated between 37¡ and 36¡, occasionally rising above 37¡ and falling to 35¡. Such a temperature curve gives a clear picture of the changing states of the ego organisations. Such a curve arises when the effects of the semi-conscious contents of the ego-organization find expression in the warmth-processes of the physical and etheric bodies without being reduced to a normal rhythm by the astral. In this patient, the whole capacity of action of the astral body was concentrated on the rhythmic system, where it found expression in his artistic talent. The other systems fell short. As a significant result of this, the patient suffers from severe fatigue and insomnia during the summer. In the summer season, considerable demands are made upon the astral body by the outer world. Its inner capacity for activity recedes. The forces of the physical and etheric body become predominant. In the general perception of one's sense of well being, this manifests as severe fatigue. At the same time the weakened capacity for action of the astral body hinders its separation from the physical. Hence the insomnia. The deficient separation of the astral body from the etheric finds expression in anxious and unpleasant dreams, arising from the sensitivity of the etheric body to the lesions in the physical organism. Characteristically, the dreams symbolize these lesions in images of mutilated human beings. Their terrifying aspect is simply their natural quality and emphasis of feeling. As a consequence of the astral body functioning deficiently in the metabolic system, there is a tendency to constipation. And owing to the independence of the etheric body, which is too little influenced by the astral, the protein received as food cannot be completely transformed from vegetable and animal protein into human. Hence, protein is excreted in the urine, so that it is positive for albumen. If the astral body is functioning deficiently, processes will arise in the physical body which are really foreign processes in the human organism. Such processes express themselves in the formation of pus. This represents, as it were, an extra-human process within the human being. Thus in the sediment of the urine we actually find pure pus. But this formation of pus is accompanied by a parallel process in the soul. The astral body works as little psychically on the experiences of life, as it works physically on the substances of food. While extra-human substances are produced in the form of pus, mental and psychic contents of a extra-human character arise at the same time, as a keen interest in abnormal relationships of life, forebodings, premonitions and the like. We therefore set out to bring a balancing, purifying and strengthening influence to bear upon the astral body. As the ego organization is very much alive, its activity could be used, in a manner of speaking, as a carrier of the therapeutic remedy. The ego-organization, which is directed toward the external world, is most readily approached by influences whose direction is from without inward. This is achieved by the use of compresses. We first apply a compress of Melilotus, a remedy which works upon the astral body in such a way as to improve the balance and distribution of its forces, counteracting their one-sided concentration on the rhythmic system. Naturally the compresses must not be applied to that part of the body where the rhythmic system is especially concentrated. We applied them to the organs where the metabolic and motor systems are concentrated. We avoided compresses around the head, because the mood swings of the ego-organizations proceeding from the head, would have paralysed the effect. For the Melilotus to take effect, it was also necessary to assist the astral body and ego-organization, by drawing them together. This we sought to do by the addition of oxalic acid, derived from Radix bardanae. Oxalic acid works in such a way as to transform the activity of the ego-organization into that of the astral body. In addition, we gave oral remedies in very diluted doses; with the object of bringing the excretions into a regular connection with the influences of the astral body. We tried to normalise the excretions directed from the head organization by means of potassium sulphate. Those processes that depend upon the metabolic system in the narrower sense of the word, we sought to influence by potassium carbonate. We regulated the excretion of urine with Teucrium. We therefore gave a medicament, consisting of equal parts of potassium sulphate, potassium carbonate and Teucrium. The whole treatment had to reckon with a very labile balance in the whole, physical, psychical and spiritual organism. Thus we had to provide complete bed rest for physical rest, and mental quiet for spiritual balance; this alone made possible the proper interaction of the various remedies. Movement and agitation render such a complicated therapeutic process almost impossible. On completion of the treatment, the patient was restored to bodily strength and vigour, and was mentally in good condition. With such a labile state of health, it goes without saying that any external disruption may bring about a recurrence of one or another disturbance. It is part of the total treatment that in such a case such events should be avoided.

Fourth Case

[ 6 ] A child, who was brought to our clinic twice, first at the age of four, and then at the age of five and a half years. Also the mother of the child, and the mother's sister. Diagnosis led us from the illness of the child to that of her mother and of the sister. As for the child, we received the following information: it was a twin, born six weeks prematurely. The other twin died in the last stage of foetal life. At the age of six weeks, the child was taken ill, began to scream excessively, and was admitted to hospital. They diagnosed pyloric stenosis. The child was partly breast fed by a wet nurse and partly fed artificially. At the age of eight months it left the hospital. On the first day after arrival home the child had a convulsion, which recurred daily for the next two months. During the attacks the child became stiff, with the eyes deviated. The attacks were preceded by fear and crying. The child also squinted with the right eye and vomited before the attack began. At the age of two and a half years there was another attack lasting five hours. The child was again stiff and lay there as though dead. At the age of four there was an attack lasting half an hour. According to the report we received, this was the first attack which was seen to be accompanied by fever. After the convulsions that had followed directly on the return from hospital, the parents had noticed a paralysis of the right arm and the right leg. At two and a half the child made the first attempt to walk, but was only able to step out with the left leg, dragging the right after it. The right arm, too, remained without volition. The same state prevailed when the child was brought to us. Our first concern was to determine the condition of the child with respect to the members of the human organization. This was attempted independently of the syndrome. We found a severe atrophy of the etheric body, which, in certain parts, received only a very slight influence from the astral body. The region of the right chest was as though paralysed in the etheric body. On the other hand, there was a kind of hypertrophy of the astral body in the region of the stomach. The next thing was to establish the relation between this diagnosis and the syndrome. There could be no doubt that the astral body strongly involved the stomach during the process of digestion, which, however, owing to the paralysed condition of the etheric body was blocked at the transition from the gut to the lymph. Hence the blood was under-nourished. We thus attached great importance to the symptoms of nausea and vomiting. Convulsions always occur when the etheric body becomes atrophied and the astral gains a direct influence over the physical without the mediation of the etheric body. This was present to the greatest extent in the child. Moreover, if, as in this case, the condition becomes permanent during the period of growth, those processes which prepare the motor system to receive the will normally fail to take place. This showed itself in the uselessness on the right side in the child. We had now to relate the condition of the child to that of the mother. The latter was thirty-seven years old when she came to us. At the age of thirteen, she told us, she had already reached her present size. She had bad teeth at an early age, and had suffered in childhood from rheumatic fever, and maintained that she had had rickets. Menstruation began comparatively early. At the age of sixteen she had had a disease of the kidneys and she told of convulsive conditions which she had had. At twenty-five she had constipation owing to cramp in the sphincter ani, which had to be stretched. Even now she suffered from cramp on defaecation. Diagnosis by direct observation, without drawing any conclusions from this syndrome, revealed a condition extraordinarily similar to that of the child. But everything appeared in a far milder form. We must bear in mind that the human etheric body has its special period of development between the change of teeth and puberty. In the mother this expressed itself thus: with their deficient strength, the available forces of the etheric body enabled growth to take place only until puberty. At puberty the special development of the astral body begins and, being hypertrophied, now overwhelms the etheric body and takes hold of the physical organization too intensely. This showed itself in the arrest of growth at the thirteenth year. The patient was, however, by no means dwarf-like, on the contrary, she was very big; this was because the growth forces of the etheric body, deficient though they were, had worked uninhibited by the astral body and so brought about a large expansion of the volume of the physical body. But these forces had not been able to enter properly into the functions of the physical body. This showed itself in the appearance of rheumatic fever and, at a later stage, convulsions. Owing to the weakness of the etheric body there was a particularly strong influence of the astral body on the physical. Now this influence is a disintegrating one. In the course of normal development it is balanced by the regenerative forces during sleep, when the astral body is separated from the physical and the etheric. If, as in this case, the etheric body is too weak, the result is an excess of disintegration, which showed itself in the fact that she had the first filling already in the twelfth year. Moreover, if great demands are made on the etheric body as in pregnancy, on every such occasion the condition of the teeth grows worse. The weakness of the etheric body with respect to its connection with the astral was also shown by the frequency of the patient's dreams and by the sound sleep which she enjoyed in spite of all irregularities. Again the weakness of the etheric body shows itself in that foreign processes unmastered by the etheric take place in the physical body, and reveal themselves in the urine as protein, isolated hyaline casts, and salts.

[ 7 ] Very remarkable was the relationship of these disease-processes in the mother with those of her sister. As to the composition of the members of the human being, diagnosis revealed almost exactly the same. A feebly working etheric body and hence a preponderance of the astral. The astral body was, however, weaker than that of the mother. Accordingly, menstruation had begun early as in the former case, but instead of inflammatory conditions she had only pains due to an irritation of the organs, e.g. the joints. In the joints the etheric body must be particularly active if the vitality is to go on in the normal way. If the activity of the etheric body is weak, that of the physical body will predominate, a fact which appeared in this case in the swollen joints and in chronic arthritis. The weakness of the astral body, that did not work enough in the subjective feeling, was indicated by her liking for sweet dishes, which enhanced the experience of the astral body. When the weak astral body is exhausted at the end of the day, then, if the weakness persists, the pains will increase in intensity. Thus the patient complained of increased pain in the evening. The connection between the pathological conditions of these three patients points to the generation preceding that of the two sisters, and more especially to the grandmother of the child. It is here that the real cause must be sought. The disordered equilibrium between the astral and etheric bodies in all three patients can only have been founded in a similar condition in the grandmother of the child. This irregularity must have been due to a deficiency of the embryonic organs of nutrition, especially the allantois development by the astral and etheric bodies of the grandmother. A deficient development of the allantois must be looked for in all three patients. We determined this to begin with by purely spiritual-scientific methods. The physical allantois, passing into the spiritual realm, is metamorphosed into the effectiveness of the forces of the astral body. A degenerated allantois gives rise to a lessened efficiency of the astral body, which will express itself, especially, in all the motor organs. Such was the case in all three patients. It is indeed possible to recognize, from the constitution of the astral body that of the allantois. From this it will be seen that our reference to the preceding generation was not the result of drawing far-fetched conclusions, but of real spiritual-scientific observations.

[ 8 ] To anyone who is irritated by this fact, we would say that our statements here are not inspired by any love of paradox; rather by the wish not to withhold existing knowledge from anyone. Conceptions of heredity will always remain dark and mystical, as long as we shrink from recognizing the metamorphosis from the physical to the spiritual and vice-versa, which takes place in the sequence of the generations.

[ 9 ] Therapeutically, such an insight could of course only lead us to perceive the right starting-point for a healing process. Had not our attention thus been drawn to the hereditary aspect, had we merely observed the irregularity in the connection between the astral and etheric bodies, we should have used therapeutic substances which affect both these members of the human being. Such remedies however would have been ineffective in our case, for the damage, running through the generations, was too deep-seated to be made good within the etheric and astral bodies themselves. In a case like this, one must work on the organization of the ego; here it is, that one must bring to bear all those influences which relate to a harmonizing and strengthening of the etheric and astral bodies. One can achieve this if one gains access to the ego-organization through intensified sensory stimuli, (Sensory stimuli work upon the ego-organization.) For the child, we attempted this in the following way: we bandaged the right hand with a 5% iron pyrites ointment and simultaneously we massaged the left half of the head with ointment of Amanita caesarea. Externally applied, pyrites, compound of iron and sulphur, has the effect of stimulating the ego-organization to make the astral body more alive and increase its affinity to the etheric. The Amanita substance, with its peculiar content of organized nitrogen, gives rise to an influence proceeding from the head, which, working through the ego-organization, makes the etheric body more alive and increases its affinity to the astral. The healing process was supported by curative eurythmy, which moves the ego-organization as such into quickened activity. This brings what is externally applied into the depths of the organization. Initiated in this way, the healing process was then intensified, with remedies making the astral and etheric bodies especially sensitive to the influence of the ego-organization. In rhythmic daily succession we gave a decoction of solidago in baths, massaged the back with a decoction of Stellaria media and gave orally willow bark tea (which particularly affects the receptivity of the astral body) and stannum 0.001 (which particularly makes the etheric body receptive). We also gave diluted doses of poppy juice, to allow the damaged organization to give place to the healing influences. In the mother's case, the latter kind of treatment was mainly adopted, since the inherited forces had worked far less than in the succeeding generation. The same applied to the sister of the mother. While the child was still with us in the clinic, we established that it became more easily guided and the general psychological condition was improved. It grew far more obedient, for example; movements which it had carried out very clumsily, it now accomplished with greater skill. Subsequently the aunt reported that a great change had taken place in the child. It had grown quieter and the excess of involuntary movements had decreased; the child is now sufficiently adroit to be able to play by itself, psychologically the former obstinacy has disappeared.

Fifth Case

[ 10 ] A woman patient, twenty-six years old, came to our clinic suffering from the serious consequences of influenza and bronchitis which she had undergone in 1918; this had been preceded in 1917 by pleurisy. Following the influenza, she had never properly recovered. In 1920 she was very emaciated and weak, with a slight temperature and night sweats. Soon after the influenza, back-pains began, which worsened continuously up to the end of 1920. Then, with violent pain, a curvature in the lumbar region became apparent. At the same time there was a swelling of the right forefinger. A rest cure had considerably lessened the back-pains. When the patient came to us, she was suffering from a cold abscess on the right thigh; her body was distended with slight ascites. There were catarrhal sounds over the apices of both lungs. Digestion and appetite were good. The urine was concentrated, with traces of protein. Spiritual-scientific investigation revealed a hypersensitivity of the astral body and the ego-organization; such an abnormality expresses itself to begin with in the etheric body, which produces, in place of the etheric functions proper, an etheric impress of the astral functions. The astral functions are destructive. Thus, the vitality and the normal process of the physical organs showed themselves to be stunted. This is always connected with processes occurring to some extent outside man, but taking place in the human organism. Hence the cold abscess, the lumbar pains, the distended abdomen, the catarrhal symptoms in the lungs, and also the deficient assimilation of protein. The treatment must therefore seek to reduce the sensitivity of the astral body and the ego-organization. This may be done by administering silicic acid, which always strengthens the inherent forces against sensitivity. In this case we gave powdered silicic acid in the food and in enemata. We also diverted the sensitivity by applying mustard plasters to the lower back. The effect of this depends upon the fact that it induces sensitivity of its own accord, thus relieving the astral body and ego-organization of theirs. By a process which damps down the over-sensitivity of the astral body in the digestive tract, we were able to divert the astral activity to the etheric body where it ought normally to be. We achieved this by minute doses of copper and carbo animalis. The possibility that the etheric body might withdraw from the normal activity of digestion, to which it was unaccustomed, was countered by administering pancreatic fluid.

[ 11 ] The cold abscess was punctured several times. Large quantities of pus were evacuated by aspiration. The abscess grew smaller and the distended stomach decreased in that the pus-formation grew continuously less and finally disappeared. While it was still flowing we were surprised one day by a renewed rise in temperature. This was not inexplicable to us, since, with the above-described constitution of the astral body, small psychological excitements could give rise to such fever. However, one must differentiate between the explanation of fever in such cases and its strongly harmful effect. For under these conditions, such a fever is the mediator for a profound intervention of the processes of destruction in the organism. One must provide at once for a strengthening of the etheric body, which will then paralyse the harmful effects of the astral. We gave high potency silver injections and the fever sank. The patient left the clinic with a twenty pounds' increase in weight, and in a stronger condition. We are under no illusion as to the necessity for further treatment to consolidate the cure.

Interpolation

[ 12 ] With the cases hitherto described, we wished to characterize the principles whereby we seek to find the therapeutic substances out of the diagnosis. For the sake of clear illustration we selected cases where it was necessary to proceed along very individual lines. But we have also prepared typical therapeutic substances applicable to typical diseases. We will now deal with a few cases where such typical medicaments were used.

Sixth Case. Treatment of Hay Fever.

[ 13 ] We had a patient with severe symptoms of hay fever. He had suffered with it from childhood. He came to us for treatment in his fortieth year. For this disorder we have our preparation “Gencydo”. This we used in this case at the time—the month of May—when the disease was at its worst. We treated him with injections and locally by painting the inside of the nose with “Gencydo” fluid. Following this there was a marked improvement, at a time of the year when formerly the patient had suffered severely from hay fever, undertaking a journey, he reported feeling incomparably better than in former years. In the hay fever season of the next year, he was travelling again from America to Europe and only had a far milder attack than previously. The repetition of the treatment achieved a tolerable condition for this year. For a thorough cure, treatment was repeated the next year, although he had no actual attack. In the fourth year the patient himself described his condition in the following words: “In the spring of 1923, I again began the treatment, as I was expecting fresh attacks. I found my nasal mucous membranes far less sensitive than before. I had to spend my time working among flowering grasses and pollen-producing trees. I also had to ride all through the summer along hot and dusty roads. Yet with the exception of a single day, no symptoms of hay fever occurred the whole summer, and I have every reason to believe that on that single day it was an ordinary cold, not an attack of hay fever. In thirty-five years this was the first time that I could stay and work unhindered in an environment where in former years I experienced real hell.”

Seventh Case. Treatment of Sclerosis.

[ 14 ] A woman patient, sixty-one years old, came to our clinic with sclerosis and albuminuria. Her immediate condition was the sequel of an attack of influenza, with slight fever and disturbances of the stomach and intestines. She had not felt well again since the influenza. She complained of difficult breathing on waking, attacks of vertigo, and a pounding sensation in the head, ears and hands, which was especially troublesome on waking, but occurred also when she walked or climbed uphill. Her sleep was good. There was a tendency to constipation. The urine contained protein. Her blood pressure was 185mm Hg. We took our start from the sclerosis which was noticeable in the over-activity of the astral body. The physical and etheric bodies were unable to receive the full activity of the astral. In such a case, excess activity of the astral body remains, which the physical and etheric do not re-absorb. The normal and firm poise of the human organization is only possible when this re-absorption is complete. Otherwise, as in this case, the non-absorbed part will make itself felt in attacks of vertigo and subjective sensory illusions, pounding etc. Also the non-absorbed part takes hold of the digested substances, forcing certain processes upon them before they have penetrated into the normal metabolism. This became apparent in the tendency to constipation, in the excretion of albumen, also in the stomach and intestinal disorders. The blood pressure is raised in such a case because the excess activity of the astral body also heightens the activity of the ego, and this reveals itself in raised blood pressure.—We treated the case mainly with our remedy, “Scleron”; we supplemented this with very minute doses of belladonna, only as an aid to counteract immediately the attacks of vertigo. We gave elder-flower tea to help the digestion, regulated the action of the bowels by enemas and laxative tea, and ordered a salt free diet, because salts tend to aggravate sclerosis. A comparatively quick improvement was the result. The attacks of vertigo receded, likewise the pounding. The blood pressure went down to 112mm Hg. The patient's subjective feeling visibly improved. During the subsequent year the sclerosis made no further progress. At the end of a year the patient came to us again with the same symptoms in a lesser degree. A similar treatment brought about a further improvement; now, after a lapse of considerable time since the treatment it is evident that the sclerosis is producing no further degeneration of the organism. The external symptoms characteristic of sclerosis are on the decline, and the accompanying rapid aging of the patient is no longer there.

Eighth Case. Treatment of a Goitre.

[ 15 ] A woman patient, who came to us in the thirty-fourth year of her life. She is typical of an individual whose psychic state is strongly influenced by a certain heaviness and fragility of the physical body. Every word she utters seems to cost her an effort. Very characteristic is the concavity in the whole shape of her face; the root of the nose is as if it were held back within the organism. She tells us that she was delicate and sickly even as a schoolgirl. The only actual disease that she went through was a slight attack of measles. She was always pale and very tired and had a poor appetite. She was sent from one doctor to another, and the following were diagnosed in succession: Infection of the apex of the lung, gastritis, anaemia. In her own mind the patient felt that she was not so much physically ill, but rather psychologically.

[ 16 ] Having given this part of her history, we will now indicate the spiritual-scientific diagnosis, in order to examine everything further against the latter.

[ 17 ] The patient reveals a highly atonic condition of the astral body. The ego-organization is thus held back, as it were, from the physical and etheric bodies. The whole life of consciousness is permeated by a subtle, dull drowsiness. The physical body is exposed to the processes arising from the ingested substances. Therefore, these substances are transformed into parts of the human organization. The etheric body in its coherent vitality is too strongly muted by the ego and the astral body; hence the inner sensations, namely, the sense of well-being and the sense of the orthostasis of the body become far too vivid, and the activity of the external senses is too dull. All the bodily functions thus have to take a course whereby they come into disharmony with one another. Inevitably the feeling arises in the patient that she cannot hold the functions of her body together with her own ego. This appears to her as a powerlessness of the soul. Hence she says she is more psychologically than physically ill. If the powerlessness of the ego and astral body increases, disease conditions must arise in various parts of the body, as is also indicated by the different diagnoses. Powerlessness of the ego expresses itself in irregularities of glands, such as the thyroid and the suprarenal; also in disorders of the stomach and intestinal system. All this is to be expected in the patient and does in fact occur. Her goitre and the condition of her stomach and intestinal system correspond entirely with the spiritual-scientific diagnosis. Most characteristic is the following: owing to the powerlessness of the ego and the astral body the need for sleep is partly satisfied during waking life, the patient's sleep is therefore lighter than a normal person's. To her, this appears as a persistent insomnia. In connection with this, she has a sense of easily falling asleep and easily awakening. Also in this connection she thinks she has many dreams, they are not, however, real dreams but mixtures of dreams and waking impressions. Thus they do not remain in her memory and are not powerfully exciting, for her excitability is lowered. In the inner organs the powerlessness of the ego first expresses itself in the lungs. Infection of the apex of the lung is in reality always a manifestation of a weak ego organization. The metabolism not being fully taken care of by the ego leads to rheumatism. Subjectively these things come to expression in the patient's general fatigue. Menstruation began at the age of fourteen; the weak ego organization cannot supply a sufficient unfolding of its forces to repress and restrain the menstrual process once it has come into flow. The work of the ego in this act of restraint comes as a sensation into consciousness through those nerves that enter the spinal cord in the region of the sacrum. Nerves insufficiently permeated by the currents of the ego-organization and the astral body are painful. Thus the patient complains of lower back pain during menstruation. All this led us in the following way to treatment. We have discovered that Colchicum autumnale has a powerfully stimulating action on the astral body, notably on the part that corresponds to the organization of the neck and head. Hence, we apply Colchicum autumnale to all those diseases which have their most important symptom in goitre. Accordingly, we gave the patient five drops of our Colchicum preparation three times a day; the goitre swelling receded and the patient felt much relieved. When the astral body is thus strengthened, it mediates a better functioning of the ego-organism, so that remedies which can work upon the organs of digestion and reproduction keep their strength in the organism. As such a remedy we used wormwood enemas, mixing them with oil, since oil stimulates the digestive tract. With this remedy we attained a considerable improvement. We hold that this treatment can develop its particularly favourable influence about the thirty-fifth year of life, for at this age the ego-organization has a strong affinity to the rest of the organism and can be readily stimulated, even when weak. The patient was thirty-four years old when she came to us.

Ninth Case. Migrainous Conditions in the Menopause.

[ 18 ] This patient came to us at the age of fifty-five. She informed us that she had been weak and delicate as a child; during childhood she had measles, scarlet fever, chicken pox, whooping cough and mumps. Menstruation began at the age of fourteen to fifteen. The bleeding was unusually intense and painful from the outset. In the fortieth year she underwent an oopherohysterectomy because of a tumour in the lower abdomen. She also reported that she suffered since the age of thirty-five from a migrainous headache lasting three days, every three or four weeks, which in her forty-sixth year developed into a cerebral illness lasting three days with unconsciousness. The spiritual-scientific diagnosis of her current condition is as follows: General weakness of the ego organization, which expresses itself in that the activity of the etheric body is insufficiently immobilized by the ego organization. Hence the vegetative organic activity extends over the head and nerve-sense system to a far greater degree than is the case when the ego-organization is normal. This diagnosis is corroborated by certain symptoms. Firstly a frequent urgency of micturition. This is due to the fact that the normally developed astral body which regulates the secretion of the kidneys is unopposed by a normally restraining ego-organization of sufficient strength. A second symptom is the long time she took to fall asleep and her tiredness on awakening. The astral body has difficulty in leaving the physical and etheric, for the ego is not strong enough in drawing it away. And when she has awakened, the vital activity, working on after sleep, was perceived as a feeling of fatigue owing to the weakness of the ego. A third symptom is to be found in the scarcity of her dreams. The pictures which the ego-organization can impress upon the astral body are feeble and cannot express themselves as vivid dreams.

[ 19 ] These perceptions led to the following treatment: we had to pave the way for the ego-organization to the physical and etheric bodies. We did this by compresses with a two per cent Oxalis solution on the forehead in the evening, compresses with a seven per cent solution of Urtica dioica on the lower abdomen in the morning, and compresses with a twenty per cent solution of lime blossom on the feet at midday. The object was, in the first place, to tone down the vital activity during the night; this was brought about by the oxalic salt, which exercises within the organism the function of suppressing an excessive vital activity. In the morning we had to ensure that the ego-organization could find its way into the physical body. This was done by stimulating the circulation. The iron effect of the stinging nettle (Urtica dioica) was applied for this purpose. Finally, it was desirable to assist the penetration of the physical body by the ego-organization in the course of the day. This was done by the downward drawing action of the lime blossom compresses at midday. We have already referred to the headaches to which the patient had become subject, with their intensification at the forty-sixth year of life. For us there was connection between the headaches and the cessation of the menses after the operation and their intensification with unconsciousness as a compensatory symptom for the menopause. We first tried to effect an improvement by the use of antimony. This should have worked if we had been concerned with the general metabolism, regulated by the organization of the ego. There was, however, no improvement. This proved to us that we were dealing with the relatively independent part of the ego-organization which primarily regulates the organs of reproduction. For the treatment of this, we see a specific remedy of the root of Potentilla tormentilla at a very high dilution, and in fact this worked.

The background mood out of which I shall be addressing you today is not the same as that that prevailed on earlier occasions when I was privileged to speak here. Since New Year's Eve 1922, that mood is conditioned by the dreadful picture of the burning Goetheanum. The pain and suffering that picture inevitably causes anyone who loved the Goetheanum because of its connection with anthroposophy are such that no words can possibly describe them.

There might seem to be some justification for feeling that a movement as intent on spiritual things as ours is has no real reason to grieve over the loss of a material expression of its being. But that does not apply in the case of the Goetheanum we have lost. It was not an arbitrary building for our work. During its erection, a process that went on for almost ten years, I often had occasion to explain that a structure that might suitably have housed some other spiritual or similar movement would not have been appropriate for our Anthroposophical Movement. For, as I have often said, we are not just a spiritual movement, which, as its membership increased, found itself with a number of people in its ranks who wanted to build it a home in some conventional style or other. The point here was that anthroposophy is built on a spiritual foundation that is not one-sidedly religious or scientific or artistic. It is an all-embracing movement, intent on demonstrating every aspect of mankind's great ideals: the moral-religious, the artistic, and the scientific ideals. There could, therefore, be no question of erecting any arbitrary type of building for the Anthroposophical Movement. Its design had to come from the same source from which anthroposophical ideas receive their shaping as an expression of the spiritual perspective gained on the anthroposophical path of knowledge, and it had to be carried out in artistic harmony with that outlook. For almost ten years many friends worked side by side with me trying to incorporate and demonstrate in every single line, in every architectural and sculptural form, every choice of color, what was flowing from the wellsprings of anthroposophical investigation, anthroposophical life, anthroposophical intention. That was all incorporated there, and the building was intimately associated with the artistic and scientific striving in the Movement. Friends who attended eurythmy performances in the Goetheanum will surely have felt how, for example, the architectural forms and decoration of the auditorium harmonized with and responded to eurythmic movement. It was even possible to have the feeling that the movements of the performers on the stage there were born of those architectural and plastic forms. If one stood on the podium speaking from the heart in a truly anthroposophical spirit, every line and form responded and chimed in with what one was saying. That was our goal there. It was, of course, a first attempt, but such was our goal, and it could be sensed. That is why those who worked on the Goetheanum at Dornach have the sensation that the very feelings they put into their efforts went up in the flames of New Year's Eve. It was just this intimate connection of anthroposophical feeling and will with the Goetheanum forms—forms that were artistically shaped by and for spiritual contemplation and that can never find a substitute in any thought forms or words—that makes our grief at the loss we have suffered so immeasurably deep.

All this ought to become part of the memories of those who grew to love the Goetheanum and to feel the intimate connection with it just described. We must, in a sense, build a monument to it in our hearts in memory form. Even though the very intimacy of our connection with it is the reason why we are now shelterless, we must seek the more intensively for a shelter in our hearts that will replace the one we have lost, We must try with every means at our disposal to rebuild in our hearts, for all eternity, this building that has been lost as an external source of artistic stimulation. But the terrible flame into which all the lesser flames of New Year's Eve were drawn is there in the background of every effort yet to be made in the field of anthroposophy. Though living, spiritual anthroposophy came to no harm in the fire, a great deal of work that we had been trying to accomplish for anthroposophy in the present day world was brought to naught.

I do believe, though, that if what we experienced on that occasion becomes properly rooted in our members' hearts, the grief and pain we suffered can be turned into strength to support us in everything we are called upon to accomplish for anthroposophy in the near future. It is often the case in life that when a group of people find themselves faced by a common disaster, they are united by it in a way that gives them strength and energy to go on together in effective common action. Experience, not grey theories or abstract thoughts, should be the source on which we draw for the strength needed for our anthroposophical work.

My dear friends, I want to add these comments to those I will be making in connection with the theme I have had to choose for this conference, to a description of the conditions that must prevail in anthroposophical community building. I would like to include them not only because they are graven on my heart, but because they point to a fact on which we would do well to focus our attention in these coming days. A great deal of sacrifice and devotion went into the work on the Goetheanum. The impulses from which that sacrifice and devotion sprang have always been there to count on in the two decades of our work, wherever anthroposophy really lived. They were born of hearts filled with enthusiasm for anthroposophy, and the Goetheanum was the product of deeds done by anthroposophically-minded individuals. Though, for a variety of reasons, we are thinking—are having to think—today about how to regenerate the Society, we should not forget on the other hand that the Society has been in existence for two decades; that a considerable number of people have undergone experiences of destiny in their common work and effort; that the Society is not something that can be founded all over again. For history, real history, history that has been lived and experienced, cannot be erased. We cannot begin something now that began twenty years ago. We must guard against any such misconceptions as these as we proceed with our current deliberations. Anyone who has found his way into the Society over the years certainly sees plenty to find fault with in it, and is justified in doing so. Many a true and weighty word has already been uttered here on that score. But we must still take into account the fact that the Society has been effective and done things. There are certainly people enough in the Society who can express the weight of their grief and sorrow in the words, “We have suffered a common loss in our beloved Goetheanum.”

It makes a difference whether a person joined the Society in 1917 or later, and whether one's relation to it is such that these grief-stricken words issue from long and deep experience in it. That should influence our deliberations. It will do much to tone down the feelings that some of our friends had good reason to express here. I heard someone say (and I certainly felt the justice of the remark), “After what I have listened to here I will go home unable to continue speaking of anthroposophy as I used to when I was still full of illusions.” Part of what that sentence conveys will disappear if one considers how much those individuals who have been anthroposophists for two decades have gone through together, and how much they have had to suffer with each other recently, because that suffering is the product of a long life in the Anthroposophical Society. The load of worry we are presently carrying cannot wipe out all that human experience; it remains with us. It would still be there even if events here were to take a much worse turn than they have taken thus far. Are we to forget the depths for the surface? That must not be allowed to happen in a spiritual movement born of the depths of human hearts and souls. What has come into being as the Anthroposophical Movement cannot rightly be called sunless. Even the sun sometimes suffers eclipse.

Of course, this should not prevent our dealing with the situation confronting this assemblage in a way that enables us to provide anthroposophy once again with a proper vehicle in the form of a real Anthroposophical Society. But our success in that depends entirely on creating the right atmosphere.

It will, of course, be impossible for me to cover the whole situation today. But in the two lectures I am to give I shall try to touch on as much of what needs to be said as I possibly can. Some things will have to be left out. But I do want to stress two matters in particular. Those are the pressing need for community building in the Society and the symptomatic event of the entrance into the Anthroposophical Movement of the exceedingly gratifying youth movement. But in anthroposophical matters we have to develop a rather different outlook than prevails elsewhere. We would not have taken our stand on ground that means so much to many people if we could not see things in a different light than that in which the modern world habitually views them.

Community building! It is particularly noteworthy that the community building ideal should be making its appearance in our day. It is the product of a deep, elemental feeling found in many human souls today, the product of a sense of definite relationship between person and person that includes an impulse to joint activity.

A while ago, a number of young theologians came to me. They were preparing to enter the ministry. They were intent above all else on a renewing of religion, on a renewal permeated through and through by the true Christ force, such as to be able to take hold of many people of the period in the way they long to be taken hold of but cannot be by the traditional confessions as they are today. I had to bring up something that seemed to me to have vital import for the development of such a movement. I said that a suitable method of community building must be found. What I had in mind was to develop a religious and pastoral element capable of really uniting people. I told these friends who had come to me that religious community could not be effectively built with abstract words, the usual kind of sermon, and the meagre remnants of a divine service, which are all that most contemporary churches have to offer. The prevailing intellectualistic trend that is increasingly taking over the religious field has had the effect of saturating a great many present day sermons with a rationalistic, intellectualistic element. This does not give people anything that could unite them. On the contrary, it divides and isolates them, and the social community is reduced to atoms. This must be easy to see for anyone who realizes that the single individual can develop rationalistic and intellectualistic values all by himself. Simply attaining a certain cultural level enables an individual to acquire increasingly perfect intellectual equipment without depending on anyone else. One can think alone and develop logic alone; in fact, one can do it all the better for being by oneself. When one engages in purely logical thinking, one feels a need to withdraw from the world to the greatest possible extent, to withdraw from people. But the tendency to want to get off by oneself is not the only one man has. My effort today to throw light on what it is in the heart's depths that searches for community is called for by the fact that we are living in a time when human nature must go on to develop the consciousness soul, must become ever more conscious.

Becoming more conscious is not the same thing as becoming more intellectualistic. It means outgrowing a merely instinctual way of experiencing. But it is just in presenting anthroposophy that every attempt should be made to portray what has thus been raised to a clear, conscious level in all its elemental aliveness, to offer it in so living a form that it seems like people's own naive experiencing and feeling. We must make sure that we do this.

Now there is one kind of community in human life that everyone over the entire globe is aware of, and it shows that community is something built into humankind. It is a type of community to which a lot of attention is being given in modern cultural and even political and economic life, and this in an often harmful way. But there is a lesson of sorts to be learned from it, though a primitive one.

In a child's early years it is introduced into a human community that is absolutely real, concrete and human, a community without which one could not exist. I am referring to the community of human speech. Speech is the form of community that we might say nature presents to our contemplation. Speech—and especially our mother tongue—is built into our whole being at a time when the child's etheric body is not yet born, and it is our first experience of the community building element. We can lay it to the rationalism of our age that though people nowadays have some feeling for languages and nationality and conceive folk groups in relation to the language they speak, they do so from the political-agitational standpoint, without paying any heed to deep and intimate underlying soul configurations, to the tremendous aspects of destiny and karma attached to a language and to the spirit behind it, all of which are the real and intrinsic reason why human beings cry out for community. What would become of us if we passed one another by without hearing resounding in the other's words the same life of soul that we ourselves put into those same words when we use them? If everybody were to practice just a little bit of self-knowledge, we would be able to form an adequate picture, which I cannot take the time to develop now, of all we owe to language as the foundation of a first, primitive building of community.

But there is a community building element still deeper than language, though we encounter it more rarely. On a certain level, human language is indeed something that unites people in community life, but it does not penetrate to the deepest levels of soul life. At certain moments of our life on earth we can become aware of another community building element that transcends that of language. A person feels it when his destiny brings him together again with others whom he knew as children. Let us take an ideal example. Someone finds himself in later life—in his forties or fifties, say—in the company of several companions of his youth or childhood whom he has not seen for decades but with whom he spent the period between his tenth and twentieth years. Let us assume that good relationships prevailed among them, fruitful, loving relationships. Now imagine what it means for these individuals to share the experience of having their souls stirred by common memories of their youthful life together. Memories lie deeper than experiences on the language level. Souls sound more intimately in unison when they are linked by the pure soul language of memories, even though the community experience they thus share may be quite brief. As everyone knows from such experiences, it is certainly not just the single memories that are summoned up to reverberate in the souls of those present that stir such intimate soul-depths in them; it is something quite else. It is not the concrete content of the particular memories recalled. An absolutely indefinite yet at the same time very definite communal experiencing is going on in these human souls. A resurrection is taking place, with the countless details of what these companions experienced together now melting into a single totality, and what each contributes as he enters into the others' recollections with them is the element that awakens the capacity to experience that totality.

That is how it is in life on earth. As a result of pursuing this fact of soul life into the spiritual realm, I had to tell the theological friends who had come to me for the purpose described that if true community were to come of the work of religious renewal, there would have to be a new form of worship, a new cultus, suited to the age we live in. Shared experience of the cultus is something that quite of its own nature calls forth the community building element in human souls. The Movement for Religious Renewal understood this and accepted the cultus. I believe that Dr. Rittelmeyer spoke weighty words when he said from this platform that such a development of community could conceivably become one of the greatest threats to the Anthroposophical Society that the Movement for Religious Renewal could present. For the cultus contains a tremendously significant community building element. It unites human beings with one another. What is it in this cultus that unites them, that can make a commonality out of separate individuals atomized by intellectuality and logic, and that most certainly will create commonality? For that is surely what Dr. Rittelmeyer had in mind, that this is the means of building community. Since community, however, is also a goal of the Anthroposophical Society, the Society will have to find its own way of building it if the Movement for Religious Renewal is not to pose a threat to it from that angle.

Now what is the secret of the community building element in the cultus developed for the Movement for Religious Renewal with that specific end in view?

Everything that comes to expression in the various forms of worship, either as ceremonial acts or words, is a reflection, a picturing of real experiences, not earth experiences, of course, but real experiences in the world through which man makes his way before he is born; in other words, experiences of the second half of his path between death and rebirth. That is the part of the cosmos he passes through from the midnight hour of life after death to the moment when he descends again into life on earth. In the realm thus traversed are found the beings, the scenes, the events faithfully reflected in all true forms of worship. What is it, then, that a person is experiencing in the cultus in common with others whom some karma or other has brought together with him? For karma is so intricately woven that we may ascribe all encounters with our fellow men to its agency. He is experiencing cosmic memories of pre-earthly existence with them. They come to the surface in the soul's subconscious depths. Before we descended to earth, we and these others lived through a cosmic lifetime in a world that reappears before us in the cultus. That is a tremendous tie. It does more than just convey pictures; it carries super-sensible forces into the sense world. But the forces it conveys are forces that concern man intimately; they are bound up with the most intimate background experiences of the human soul. The cultus derives its binding power from the fact that it conveys spiritual forces from the spiritual world to earth and presents supernatural realities to the contemplation of human beings living on the earth. There is no such reality for man to contemplate in rationalistic talks that have the effect of making him forget the spiritual world, forget it even in subconscious soul depths. In the cultus he has it right there before him in a living, power-pervaded picture that is more than a mere symbol. Nor is this picture a dead image; it carries real power, because it places before man scenes that were part of his spiritual environment before he was incarnated in an earthly body. The community creating power of the cultus derives from the fact that it is a shared, comprehensive memory of spiritual experiences.

The Anthroposophical Society also needs just such a force to foster community within it. But the ground this springs from need not be the same for the Anthroposophical Movement as for the Movement for Religious Renewal. The one by no means excludes the other, however; the two can co-exist in fullest harmony provided the relationship between them is rightly felt.

But that can be the case only if we acquire some understanding for a further community building element that can be introduced into human life. Memory, transposed into the spiritual realm, rays out to us from the form the cultus takes. The cultus speaks to greater depths than those of intellect: it speaks to man's inwardness. For at bottom the soul really does understand the speech of the spirit, even though that speech may not be fully consciously perceived in present day earth life.

Now, in order to grasp the further element that must come to play a corresponding role in the Anthroposophical Society, you will not only have to contemplate the secrets of language and memory in their relationship to community building; you will also have to consider another aspect of human life. Let us study the condition in which we find a dreaming person and compare it with that of someone going about his daytime activities wide awake.

The dream world may indeed be beautiful, sublime, rich in pictures and in significance. Nevertheless, it isolates people here on earth. A dreaming person is alone with his dreams. He lies there asleep and dreaming, perhaps in the midst of others awake or asleep, the content of whose inner worlds remains completely unrelated to what is going on in his dream consciousness. A person is isolated in his dream world, and even more so in the world of sleep. But the moment we awake we begin to take some part in communal life. The space we and those around us occupy is the same space; the feeling and impressions they have of it are the same we have. We wake at hand of our immediate surroundings to the same inner life another wakes to. In waking out of the isolation of our dreams we awaken, up to a certain point at least, into the community of our fellowmen, simply as a result of the way we are related to the world around us. We cease being completely to ourselves, shut in and encapsulated, as we were when absorbed in our dream world, though our dreams may have been beautiful, sublime, significant. But how do we awaken? We awaken through the impact of the outer world, through its light and tones and warmth. We awaken in response to all the various impressions that the sense world makes on us. But we also wake up in ordinary everyday life in the encounter with the external aspects of other human beings, with their natural aspects. We wake up to everyday life in the encounter with the natural world. It wakes us out of our isolation and introduces us into a community of sorts. We have not yet wakened up as human beings by meeting our fellow men and by what goes on in their innermost beings. That is the secret of everyday life. We wake up in response to light and tone and perhaps also to the words someone speaks in the exercise of his natural endowment, words spoken from within outward. In ordinary everyday life we do not wake up in the encounter with what is going on in the depths of his soul or spirit, we wake up in the encounter with his natural aspects.

The latter constitutes the third awakening, or at least a third condition of soul life. We awaken from the first into the second through nature's impact. We awaken from the second into the third at the call of the soul-spiritual element in our fellowmen. But we must first learn to hear that call. Just as a person wakes up through the natural world surrounding him in the right way in everyday life, so do we wake up rightly at a higher level in the encounter with the soul-spirit of our fellowmen as we sensed light and tone on awakening to everyday life. We can see the most beautiful pictures and have the most sublime experiences in our isolated dream consciousness, but we will scarcely be able to read, for example, unless highly abnormal conditions prevail. We are not in a relationship to the outer world that would make such things possible. We are also unable to understand the spiritual world, no matter how many beautiful ideas we may have garnered from anthroposophy or how much we may have grasped theoretically about such matters as etheric and astral bodies. We begin to develop an understanding for the spiritual world only when we wake up in the encounter with the soul-spiritual element in our fellowmen. That is where the first true understanding of anthroposophy sets in. Yes, it is indeed necessary to base our understanding of anthroposophy on what can be called a waking up in the encounter with the soul and spirit of another person.

The strength needed to achieve this awakening can be created by implanting spiritual idealism in human communities. We talk a lot about idealism these days, but it has become a threadbare thing in the culture and civilization of the present. For true idealism exists only where man reverses the direction he takes when, in presenting the cultus, he brings the spiritual world down to earth; when, in other words, he consciously makes himself capable of lifting to the super-sensible-spiritual, the ideal level, what he has seen and learned and understood on the earthly level. We bring the supernatural down into a power-permeated picture when we celebrate the ritual of the cultus. We lift ourselves and our soul life to the super-sensible level when our experiences in the physical world are experienced so spiritually and idealistically that we come to feel we have experienced them in the super-sensible world itself and that what we perceive here in the sense world suddenly comes all alive on being lifted to the ideal level. It comes alive when properly permeated with our wills and feeling. When we ray will through our inner being and infuse it with enthusiasm, we carry our idealized sense experience in a direction exactly opposite to that taken when we embody the super-sensible in the ritual of the cultus. Whether the anthroposophical community be large or small, we can achieve what I am characterizing when, infusing living power into the spiritual ideas we form, we put ourselves in a position actually to experience something of that awakening element, something that doesn't stop at idealizing our sense experience and leaving it at the stage of an abstract thought, but that endows the ideal with a higher life as we live into it and make it the counterpart of the cultus by raising it from the physical to the super-sensible level. We can achieve it in our life of feeling by taking care to imbue everything we do for anthroposophy with thoroughly spiritualized feeling. We do this when, for instance, we feel that the very doorway we reverently enter on our way to an anthroposophical assemblage is consecrated by the common anthroposophical purpose being served in the room it leads to, no matter how mundane the setting. We must be able to feel that everybody joining with us in a communal reception of anthroposophy has the same attitude. It is not enough to have a deep abstract conviction of this; it must be inwardly experienced, so that we do not just sit in a room where anthroposophy is being pursued, a group of so and so many individuals taking in what is being read or spoken and having our own thoughts about it. A real spiritual being must be present in a room where anthroposophy is being carried on, and this as a direct result of the way anthroposophical ideas are being absorbed. Divine powers are present in sense perceptible form in the cultus celebrated on the physical plane. Our hearts and souls and attitudes must learn similarly to invoke the presence of a real spiritual being in a room where anthroposophy is being talked of. We must so attune our speaking, our feeling, our thinking, our impulses of will to a spiritual purpose, avoiding the pitfall of the abstract, that we can feel a real spiritual being hovering there above us, looking on and listening. We should divine a super-sensible presence, invoked by our pursuit of anthroposophy. Then each single anthroposophical activity can begin to be a realizing of the super-sensible.

If you study primitive communities, you will find another communal element in addition to language. Language has its seat in the upper part of man. But taking the whole man into consideration, you will find that common blood is what links members of primitive communities. Blood ties make for community. But what lives there in the blood is the folk soul or folk spirit, and this is not present in the same way among people who have developed freedom. A common spiritual element once entered groups with common blood ties, working from below upward. Wherever common blood flows in the veins of a number of people, there we can discern the presence of a group soul.

A real community spirit is similarly attracted by our common experiencing when we study anthroposophy together, though it is obviously not a group soul active in the bloodstream. If we are able to sense this, we can form true communities.

We must make anthroposophy real by learning to be aware in anthroposophical community life that where people join in anthroposophical tasks together, there they experience their first awakening in the encounter with the soul-spiritual element in their fellows. Human beings wake up in the mutual encounter with other human beings. As each one has new experiences between his encounters with these others, and has grown a little, these awakenings take place in an ever new way as people go on meeting. The awakenings undergo a burgeoning development.

When you have discovered the possibility that human souls wake up in the encounter with human souls, and human spirits wake up in the encounter with human spirits, and go to anthroposophical groups with a living awareness that only now have you come awake and only now begin to grow together into an understanding of anthroposophy, and on the basis of that understanding take anthroposophical ideas into an awakened soul rather than into an everyday soul asleep to higher things, then the true spirit of community descends upon the place where you are working. Is truth involved when we talk of the super-sensible world, yet are unable to rise to awareness of a spiritual presence and of this reversed cultus? We are firmly grounded in our understanding of things of the spirit only when we do not rest content with abstract spiritual concepts and a capacity to express them theoretically, but instead grow into a sure belief that higher beings are present with us in a community of spirit when we engage in spiritual study. No external measures can bring about anthroposophical community building. You have to call it forth from the profoundest depths of human consciousness.

I have described part of the path that leads to that goal, and tomorrow we will follow it further. Descriptions of this kind are intended to show that the most important thing for any further development of the Anthroposophical Society is that it become absorbed in a true grasp of anthroposophy. If we have that grasp, it leads not only to spiritual ideas but to community with the spirit, and an awareness of community with the spiritual world is itself a community building force. Karmically preordained communities will then spring up as an outcome of true anthroposophical awareness. No external measures for achieving that can be indicated, and a person who offers any such is a charlatan.

Now these matters have been understood to some degree during the two decades of anthroposophy's development, and quite a good many members have also understood them in a spiritual sense. I will perhaps return to this subject and discuss it more fully tomorrow when I continue with these reflections and go on to point out a further goal. For now, I would like to add just a few words on matters that may have been occupying you after hearing my description of the spiritual bases of anthroposophical community life. On the one hand, things in the Anthroposophical Movement are really such as to necessitate my describing them as I have done. The Anthroposophical Society may present this or that appearance in a given phase. But anthroposophy is independent of anthroposophical societies and can be found independently of them. It can be found in a special way when one human being learns to wake up in the encounter with another and out of such awakening the forming of communities occurs. For one undergoes ever fresh awakenings through those with whom one finds oneself foregathered, and that is what holds such groups together. Inner, spiritual realities are at work here.

These matters must be increasingly understood in the Anthroposophical Society. Every consideration brought up in connection with the Society's welfare ought really to be pervaded with forces intimately related to anthroposophy itself.

It was deeply satisfying to me, after spending weeks attending larger and smaller conclaves where preparations were being made for these delegates' meetings, and listening there to debates reminiscent of the ordinary, everyday kind of rationalistic considerations in which parliaments and clubs engage, to go to an assemblage of young people, a meeting of young academicians. They, too, were pondering what ought to be done. For a while the talk was about external matters. But as time passed, it changed, all unaware, into a truly anthroposophical discussion. Matters that first appeared in an everyday light took on aspects that made anything but an anthroposophical treatment impossible.

It would be ideal if, instead of dragging in anthroposophical theories in an artificial, sentimental, nebulous way, as has so often happened, a down-to-earth course were to be pursued. Taking life's ordinary concerns as a starting point, the discussion should lead to the conclusion that unless anthroposophy were called upon, no one would know any longer how to go about studying such subjects as physics and chemistry. This spirit could serve to guide us.

But no solution will be found by tomorrow evening if things go on as they have up to this point; they can only lead to a state of tremendous, tragic chaos. The most important thing is to avoid any sentimental dragging in of all sorts of matters, and instead fill our hearts with anthroposophical impulses, conceived in full clarity.

As things are now, I see two parties, two separate groups of human beings sitting in this room, neither of which in the least understands the other, neither of which is able to take the first small step toward mutual understanding. Why is this the case? It is because what one side is saying issues inevitably from the experience of two whole decades, as I explained briefly earlier today, and the other side takes no interest whatsoever in that experience. I say this not in criticism, but in a spirit of concerned pleading. There have been occasions in the past when well-meaning people, in their own way genuinely enthusiastic about anthroposophy, have simply cut across our deliberations with such comments as, “What possible interest can these reports have for us when they keep on being served up at a moment when the important thing is that people unacquainted with the great dangers the Society faces want to learn about them?” Here, on the one side, we see an elemental, natural interest in the life of the Anthroposophical Society, a life that may have certain familial characteristics, but that has the good aspects of the familial as well. On the other side we find no interest in that life, and instead just a general conception of an Anthroposophical Society.

As things stand today, both points of view are justified, so justified that unless we can quickly develop a wholly different form of discussion, the best thing we could do (I am just expressing my opinion, for the decision will have to be made by the Society) would be to leave the old Society as it is and found a union of free anthroposophical communities for those who want something entirely different. Then each party could carry on in the way that suits it. We would have the old Society on the one side, and on the other a loose but closely related confederation of free communities. The two societies could work out ways of living together. It would be better to solve the problem this way than to continue on in the hopeless situation that would present itself tomorrow evening if the discussion were to go on as it has thus far. So I ask you to put on the agenda the further question whether you would not prefer to avoid the false situation that would develop from keeping the two groups welded together, regardless of whether things stay as they have been or undergo some modification. If the situation remains as it is, with each side failing to understand the other, let us go ahead and set up the two suggested groups within the one movement. I say this with an anxious, a very anxious heart; for surely no one will deny that I understand what it is to feel concern for our anthroposophical undertaking and know what it means to love it. But it is better to have two devoted sisters, each going her own way and united only by a common ideal, than to settle for something that would again lead in short order to a state of chaos.

My dear friends, you simply must not let yourselves overlook the fact that it is the various single enterprises that are causing our troubles. That should have been worked out in clearest detail. I am certainly not stating that the last Central Executive Committee accomplished a great deal more, materially, than the one before it, not any more, that is, than I accomplished when I was similarly active at the center in my role as General Secretary. But that is not the question. The real question is: What should have happened, anthroposophically speaking, after all the various enterprises were started here in Stuttgart? This will have to be answered. We cannot at this point dissolve what has been brought into being. Once these enterprises exist, we must find out how to keep them flourishing. But if we fail, as we have in the past four years, to learn how to go about this in an anthroposophical spirit, if we introduce enterprises as foreign bodies into the Anthroposophical Movement, as we have done, these institutions that have been in existence since 1919 will ruin the whole Anthroposophical Movement. They will ruin any Central Executive Committee, no matter what name it is given.

We should therefore keep our discussions objective and impersonal, and try to reach some clarity on what form the Society ought to take, now that it embraces all these institutions, and among them one as wonderful as the Waldorf School. Not a single word has yet been spoken on this subject, for those who are most familiar with what is going on in Stuttgart have thus far kept fairly silent. I would particularly like to hear what the two members of the Central Executive Committee would say to this. [The members of the Central Executive Committee were Ernst Uehli, Emil Leinhas, Dr. Carl Unger.] (I am not including Herr Leinhas, the third member, as he was the only one who helped me in a problematical situation and who continues to help. Indeed, for his sake I hardly like to see him go on devoting himself to the Central Executive Committee, ideally fitted for it though he is.) It is not a question of these two gentlemen defending themselves, but simply of saying what they think about the future shaping of the Anthroposophical Society, which is capable of amalgamating the enterprises that have been in existence since 1919; otherwise, it would have been an irresponsible deed to launch them. We cannot leave it at that, now that they exist.

These are very, very serious questions. We have to deal with them and discuss them objectively and impersonally. I meant what I said objectively, not as an attack on any member or members of the Central Executive Committee. Nobody is being disparaged, but in my opinion these problems, thus again sharply enunciated by me, had to be brought up. If the two proposed societies are to be established, the group that would be a continuation of the old Anthroposophical Society could make itself responsible for the projects the Society has undertaken, and the other group, that feels no interest in them, could pursue a more narrowly anthroposophical path.

This is what I wanted to put before you in a brief sketch. Tomorrow at twelve I shall speak in detail about matters of business.

This lecture is the first of sixteen given between October and December 1922, eventually to be collected and published in one volume of the Complete Centenary Edition of Rudolf Steiner's works in the original German. (Vol. 218 in the Bibliographical Survey, 1961.) The lecture series is entitled, Spiritual Relationships in the Human Organism.

In speaking of the life of the soul, a certain expression in common use today is made to cover a great deal. I refer to the expression: the ‘unconscious.’ On the one hand it admits that in respect of the soul we are obliged to speak of forces or the like which do not play into the ordinary consciousness; but on the other hand, by the very word itself we confess our inability to say anything about these forces. We merely label them the ‘unconscious.’

In setting out to describe what is the essential nature of human knowledge, we have to say that man's search for knowledge has to be pursued in the external world by means of observation and experiment, aided by the understanding with its power of combination. But then we can go on to show that when we investigate our consciousness, we find in it all manner of manifestations—thoughts, feelings, impulses of will, etc.—of which we are aware that they cannot be fathomed in their true nature by following the method of external scientific investigation and working with experiment, observation and the combining power of thought. Neither does such vision as we can gain by practising self-observation enable us to penetrate to the nature and being of what thus reveals itself in the life of the soul, so long as our self-observation is carried out purely with the ordinary forces of consciousness. We speak accordingly of the ‘unconscious,’ but while we do so, at the same time we renounce all claim to be able to penetrate into its world. This renunciation is entirely justified if we want to restrict ourselves to those means of attaining knowledge which are in common acceptance today. For as a matter of fact, no one who relies on these methods alone can ever carry his observation of the life of the soul any further than that during waking life, ideas, feelings, impulses of will-expressions, that is, of the inner nature and being of man—surge up from the depths; they are obviously closely bound up with the external bodily nature, and it is quite impossible to demonstrate conclusively that what shows itself to begin with in such close dependence on bodily conditions can have any existence of its own beyond these bodily conditions.

Now as you know very well, in Anthroposophy we take this as our starting-point. We fully accept the fact that with such means of acquiring knowledge as are recognised today, the depths of man's soul-nature can never be fathomed. We fully accept the fact that as far as these means go we can do no other than refer simply to an ‘unconscious.’ We do not even need to consider birth and death—the two boundaries of physical life on earth; we need look only at the condition of ordinary sleep as it occurs every day of a man's life, and we shall be obliged to admit that, taking what can be learned about the experiences of the soul with the ordinary means of attaining knowledge, it is impossible to raise any objection when a conclusion such as the following is reached. It is asserted, for example, from the point of view of ordinary knowledge, that all thinking, feeling and willing, as they are present in consciousness in ordinary day-to-day life, show so great a dependence upon bodily conditions that it may well be inferred that experiences of soul emerge out of the bodily conditions as out of a subconscious region, and that what happens during sleep is simply that the purely organic life predominates as such and during such time allows no ideas or feelings or acts of will to flow forth from it. When such a statement is made there is nothing to be said. At the most we can point to the dream and suggest how dreams appear to come out of the life of sleep and to be simply remembered in the waking life. From the way the dream plays through the life of sleep the conclusion might be drawn that the soul-nature does in some way or other persist during sleep. Here, however, we are on uncertain ground; and the fact is, no serious and open-minded person can, with no more than the ordinary means of knowledge at his disposal, be expected to speak in any other way about the soul than to say it exhibits phenomena which are to all appearances absolutely dependent on bodily conditions.

Anthroposophical knowledge, however, just because it accepts in all seriousness this capacity—or rather incapacity—of the ordinary means of knowledge, must, on the other hand, endeavour to find other means of knowing the world. And, as you are aware, such have been attained; they have often been explained and described here Imaginative, Inspired, Intuitive Knowledge. By means of these special ways of knowing—ways of knowing that by dint of strenuous effort have to be developed as new faculties from out of the ordinary life of the soul we are then in a position to bring clarity into a realm where with the ordinary means of knowledge clarity can never be attained.

And now, on the basis of these three stages of higher knowledge, I should like to give you a picture of a very important region of the subconscious or unconscious in man, namely the region of soul-life between going to sleep and waking. I have already described this region to you many times from various standpoints. Today I will do so again from one particular aspect.

Let me begin by picturing to you quite simply the condition of sleep as seen by Imaginative, Inspired and Intuitive Knowledge. For ordinary consciousness all that we can say is that whereas from waking to going to sleep consciousness is filled with a content, on going to sleep this content first of all grows dim, is then gradually extinguished and a condition of unconsciousness ensues. During the consciousness of daytime man cannot, with ordinary means of knowledge, tell what his soul does during the time between going to sleep and waking. If the soul has any experience of this condition, the experience does not enter into ordinary consciousness. For ordinary consciousness darkness spreads over all that the soul undergoes—assuming, that is, that it undergoes any experience at all in sleep. But now, with the advent of Imaginative Knowledge, the condition of sleep begins to be lit up, the darkness begins to change into light, and it is possible to judge clearly of what is experienced by the soul during, at any rate, the early stages of sleep. And in Inspired and Intuitive Knowledge one can penetrate still farther into these experiences. Do not suppose that we can by this means look into sleep somewhat in the way we look into a peepshow; but through Imaginative, Inspired and Intuitive Knowledge we can experience conditions of soul that resemble sleep inasmuch as our relation to our body at such times is similar to the relation during sleep; only it is experienced, not unconsciously, but in full consciousness. And through being able thus consciously during waking life to experience in a similar manner to the way one experiences in sleep, the possibility is opened for us to behold what the soul of man undergoes during sleep, and to describe it.

When a man goes to sleep, you know how in the moment of doing so the consciousness, already growing vague and indistinct, is often confused by dreams. This dream-world can, to begin with, help us very little indeed towards a knowledge of the life of the soul. For all we can know about dreams in daytime consciousness with the ordinary means of knowledge remains something that is quite external. Dreams are obviously not things upon which we can build in a sure and well-defined way, until we have a knowledge about sleep itself by some other means. He who truly acquires a knowledge of the condition of sleep knows very well that dreams are in reality misleading rather than enlightening. What the soul experiences in sleep it experiences unconsciously. But now, since I am going to place a picture of it before you arising from Imaginative, Inspired and Intuitive Knowledge, I must portray it as if it were experienced consciously. I shall have to describe to you the experiences of the soul from going to sleep to waking as if they were experienced in consciousness. They are not; nevertheless, what I describe is truly experienced by the soul, although without knowing anything of it. It is present as an actual fact, and the effect of the experience is not limited to the time between going to sleep and waking. For it works into the physical organism of the human being, and it does so most of all during waking life. We carry within us during the day, from waking until going to sleep, the after-effects of the experiences of the night; and if it is true that for the civilization in which we live what we do with the instrumentality of consciousness is of great significance, it is no less true that all that goes on with our own selves depends very little indeed upon our consciousness, and very much upon what we experience unconsciously between going to sleep and waking.

When we have gone to sleep, and the sense-perceptions have been gradually paralysed and the will-impulses have ceased to work, we experience in the first place an undifferentiated condition of soul. In this undefined experience a strong sense of time is present, but all feeling of space is almost completely wiped out. It is an experience that is comparable with swimming; we are, so to speak, moving about in a general, indefinite world-substance. One has really to coin words to express what the soul goes through at this stage. One might say, the soul feels as if it were like a wave in a great sea, a wave that is organised within itself and yet feels itself surrounded on every hand by the sea and affected by the influences of the sea much as during the life of day the soul is affected by impressions of colour, tone or warmth, perceiving them in a quite definite and differentiated manner. In the life of day you feel yourself as a human being enclosed within your skin, and having a definite position in space. in the moment that follows the going to sleep, you feel—I say you ‘feel,’ I describe it all as if it were consciousness; the fact is there, it is only the consciousness of the fact that is lacking—you feel like a wave in a universal sea; you feel yourself now here, now there; as I said, the definite sense of space ceases. A general sense of time, however, persists.

But now this experience is united with another, namely, an experience of being forsaken and alone. It is like sinking into an abyss. If a man were to experience consciously this first stage of sleep without right preparation, he would in truth be exposed to great risk, for he would find it quite unbearable to lose in this way almost all sense of space and live merely in a general, universal feeling of time, to feel himself in this vague way merely a part of a universal sea of substance, where scarcely anything is distinguishable—where indeed the only thing one can distinguish is that one is a self within a universal world-existence. If consciousness were present, one would actually have the sensation of hovering over an abyss.

And now a still further experience is united with this one. A tremendous need for the support of the spiritual makes itself felt in the soul, a great need and longing to be united with the spiritual. In the universal sea in which one is swimming, one has, as it were, lost that feeling of security which comes from being in contact with the material things of the world of our waking hours. Hence one feels—one would feel, that is, if the condition were conscious—a deep yearning to be united with the divine and spiritual. And one may say too that this experience of movement in an undifferentiated world-substance carries with it the sense of being concealed and protected within divine-spiritual reality. Please observe the way I am describing all this. To repeat once more, I am describing it to you as if the soul experienced it consciously. It does not do so; but let me remind you that when you experience something consciously in waking life, a great deal is going on at the same time unconsciously in your organism. This is a simple fact. Let us say, for example, you feel joy. When you feel joy, your blood beats differently from the way it beats when you are sad. You experience the joy or sorrow in your consciousness, but not the difference in the pulsation of the blood. The pulsation of the blood is, notwithstanding, a fact. And it is the same here too. What I describe as swimming in an undifferentiated world-substance, and again what I describe as a need of God—there is a reality in the life of soul answering to each one of these descriptions. And Imaginative Knowledge does nothing else than lift this reality into consciousness, just as ordinary waking consciousness can lift into consciousness the pulsation of the blood which lies behind joy or sorrow. The facts are there, and they work on into our life of day; so that when we wake in the morning our whole organism is refreshed. The refreshment is due to the experience we have undergone during the night in our life of soul. What takes place in the soul when it is separated from the body during the time between going to sleep and waking is of great significance in its after-effects during waking life on the following day. We should not be able rightly to make use of our body on the following day if we had not raised ourselves up out of our connection with the external world of the physical senses and been immersed in this undefined experience which I have described. Nor would there rise up from the depths of our will during waking life something like a need and longing to relate all the differentiated world around us to a universal existence. The fact that we feel a need to relate the world of the senses to a divine existence is a direct result of this first stage of sleep.

The question may well be asked: Why is man not content merely to place the several objects of the world side by side? Why is he not content to go through the world accepting the existence of plants, animals, etc., without question? Why does he want to try to philosophize about it all? For the very simplest people do so; and incidentally, I may say they do it with far more understanding than the philosophers themselves! Why does man want to build up a philosophy of how the things hang together? Why does he relate the single example that meets his eye to a universal whole, and ask how the individual is rooted and grounded in the cosmos? He would not do so, if it were not that during sleep he enters in an intensely real and living way into the undefined existence I have described; nor would he ever in the waking state come to a feeling of God, were it not that he has experienced the corresponding fact in the first stage of sleep. We owe to sleep something that has untold significance for our deep inner nature as human beings.

As man continues asleep, he comes into other stages which are not accessible to Imaginative Knowledge, but require Inspired Knowledge for their perception. Something else now shows itself as a fact of the life of soul and is reflected for Inspired Knowledge in the way that the pulsation of the blood is reflected in joy and sorrow. To begin with, we find a disintegration of the soul into the greatest possible number of individual entities. The soul literally splits up its life into many parts, and this process is united with an experience which, when it lights up into consciousness, is felt as an experience of anxiety and fear. After the soul has passed through what we have described as a hovering over the abyss or as a swimming in a universal world-substance, and has experienced at the same time a longing for the divine-spiritual, it comes into this condition of anxiety—that is to say, into a condition that would be anxiety, if it were consciously experienced. The experience is due to the fact that the soul is no longer merely swimming in a general world-substance, but has, as it were, immersed itself in individual beings of soul-and-spirit. The soul comes into a certain relationship with these beings, and doing so severally, is now itself not one but manifold.

The anxiety of this stage of sleep has to be somehow met and overcome. In the time of the Earth's evolution that preceded the Mystery of Golgotha, teachings were given in the places of the Mysteries and found their way to the individual human beings; these teachings enabled the soul to experience other feelings in addition to those aroused by contact with the outer world of the senses. Such teachings were given in connection with the most varied religious practices, but they all awakened these feelings in the souls of men by giving them ideas and conceptions of God in such a way as was right for those ancient times. Men were then so constituted that even during waking life the spiritual world still shone into their consciousness. The farther we go back in the evolution of mankind on Earth, the more evident does it become that man had a kind of clairvoyance in very ancient times, traces of which remained on into later epochs; through this clairvoyance he perceived inwardly how he himself, before he began his life on Earth, had lived in pre-earthly existence as a being of soul-and-spirit. It was not something that he merely believed; it was for him a certainty; he experienced within himself something left over from a pre-earthly existence.

If I may be allowed to use a trivial comparison, I would remind you of how when someone has inherited a certain faculty from his parents, he is aware that this faculty has inserted itself into the course of his life through its own immediate existence; he has not acquired it, it has come over to him from his ancestors. In a similar way the men of an older time knew that certain experiences they had in their soul did not come to them from what they had seen with their eyes, but were an inheritance from a pre-earthly existence. They knew it from the experiences themselves. We have again and again to call attention to the fact that in the course of evolution man has grown free from such experiences, and that we live in an age when the ordinary consciousness has no experiences that are explicable as an inheritance from a pre-earthly existence. It was accordingly easier for the men of olden times to be taught by their spiritual leaders in the Mystery-centres how they should relate themselves in their feelings to what they already had in their soul as spiritual experience. Power came to them with the impulses they received from the Mystery-centres, and they were able to carry out of ordinary day life into the life of night, into the life of sleep, the strength to hold their own against the anxiety described above. The anxiety rose up out of the depths of the life of sleep. If a man was to have power to bring away with him out of this anxiety not general fatigue or exhaustion or the like, but instead a freshness of his whole organism, then he had to acquire that power on the previous day during the waking life.

Such is the connection between day and night. Night brings, at a certain stage of sleep, anxiety. Into this anxiety must flow power man has gained from religious or similar experience on the day before; and when these two things come together and unite—the power remaining over from the day before and the new and original experience of the night—then a reviving and refreshing force streams into the organism for the new day that follows.

A true spiritual science is not concerned to speak in general, abstract phrases and affirm the presence of a universal divine ordering in the world. It is not satisfied to describe the single objects of the world in their sense-aspect and then add: And now within this sense-appearance a general world-ordering holds sway. Spiritual science has to show in concrete detail how this divine ordering of the world works. If we would be adequate to the tasks of human evolution in the future, we cannot be content merely to say: I feel refreshed after a sound and healthy sleep; God has granted me refreshment. We should have to despair of science if we must insist upon a strict science for the world of the senses, and could not at the same time extend this strictness to what relates to the supersensible, but there had to remain content with phrases, such as the general statement that a divine ordering lies at the foundation of the world. No, on the contrary, we learn to be more and more definite; and we can show how the anxiety which occurs in the second stage of sleep, is as it were blended and intermingled with the power drawn from the religious experience of the previous day that works on into the night, and how these then give rise in their union to the power with which the physical organism is refreshed for the next day.

In this way we come to see more and more clearly how the spiritual lives in the physical. The means of knowledge that hold good today admit only a physical content of the world, supplemented by a way of speaking in general terms of how in, or above, this physical content lives something spiritual. Humanity will, however, sink lower and lower in civilization and culture if men will not learn to extend to the spiritual world the strict exactitude practised in the study of the external world.

When, with Inspired Consciousness, we follow up further the stages of sleep and pass from the first to the second stage, the inner experience of the soul becomes altogether different from what it is in the life of day.

Now it is quite possible to recognise by means of ordinary natural science—if we will only follow it out to the consequences—that our life of soul is intimately attached to the processes of breathing and of blood-circulation, and to the process of nutrition that permeates the circulation; we can feel that something is taking place when, for example, we exert ourselves strongly in movement. We feel how the soul-and-spirit within us is united with the activities of our body, and when we try to form a picture of the breathing process or of the circulatory process, we know that we are picturing something in which, during waking life, dwells the experience of the soul, in which it is, as it were, embedded. The experience of the soul during sleep is not attached in any way to the senses, nevertheless it too is a well-defined inner life that can also be referred to something, in the same way that the inner life of day can be referred to the life of breathing and the life of circulation. Inspired Knowledge leads us to see how this inner life of night-time is connected with an unfolding of inner forces, comparable with the unfolding of the forces of breathing and of circulation, and is in fact a copy of the planetary movements of our system. Note well, I do not say that every night from going to sleep until waking we are ourselves within, or united with, the movements of the planets, but that we are inserted into something which is a copy, so to speak in miniature, of our planetary cosmos or rather of its movements. As our life of soul by day has its dwelling-place in the circulation of the blood, so our life of soul by night is inserted into something which is a copy of the planetary movements of our solar system. If we must say for the day-time: the white corpuscles, the red corpuscles circulate in us, the breathing power revolves in us, enabling us to breathe in and breathe out—then we must say for the night-time: there revolves in us a copy of the movement of Mercury, of the movement of Venus, of the movement of Jupiter. Our life of soul from going to sleep to waking is, so to say, in a little planetary cosmos. From being personal and human our life becomes cosmic during sleep. And Inspired Knowledge can then discover how when we are tired in the evening, the forces which have held our blood in pulsation during the day are able to keep vitality going during the night through their own faculty of persistence, but that in order to be turned again into the day life of soul, these forces require the fresh impulse that comes from the experience of a copy of the planetary cosmos during the night. In the moment of waking the after-effects are implanted into us of the experience we have received from the copies of the planetary movements.

This it is which unites the cosmos with our individual life. When we wake in the morning, the forces we need would not be able to stream into us in the right way so that consciousness is properly present, if we had not this after-working of the experiences of the night.

You will be able to see from this how little justification there often is when people complain bitterly of sleeplessness. As a general rule, they are deeply self-deceived. I will not, however, enter into this subject now. Naturally, those who labour under the delusion have themselves no idea of it. They think they are not asleep, whereas in reality they are in an abnormal sleep. They think that their soul is not outside the body and cannot experience this planetary existence. The fact is, they are in a condition which is certainly dull, but which yet admits of their experiencing the very same that another human being experiences when he is in a healthy sleep. But as I have said, I will not at the present moment enter further into these exceptional cases.

Speaking generally, the description I am now giving is true for man, namely that in the second stage of sleep he lives a cosmic life. I have indicated to you how in olden times before the Mystery of Golgotha, impulses went forth from the places of the Mysteries which gave man the power to come out of this anxiety, the power to withstand the tendency to dispersion and pass through in a sound and healthy way what he had to pass through at this time. That is to say, he was imbued with a power that enabled him to enter into the experience of the planets and not stop short at the experience of being dismembered and scattered. The anxiety was due to this latter experience, while the experience of being in the planets came as a result of taking with one out of the experience of the previous day the power I have described. Since the time of the Mystery of Golgotha it has been possible for men to possess themselves of the same power that was formerly given from the Mysteries, by directing their souls to the events of the Mystery of Golgotha. Whoever enters in a right and living way into an experience of the Mystery of Golgotha will have Christ for his strong guide in the moment when his soul comes into the realm of anxiety during the time between going to sleep and waking. Thus the humanity of modern times has through the Christ-experience what an older humanity had from the Mysteries.

Passing onward from the stage of sleep just described, man enters upon a stage which I may be permitted to name in plain terms; for after I have taken time to explain more fully the planetary experience, you will not take offence when I say at once that following on the planetary experience man has an experience of the fixed stars. Having lived during the second stage of sleep in the copy of the planetary movements, he now lives in the constellations, or rather in copies of the constellations, of the fixed stars of the zodiac. This experience is a very real fact during the third stage of the life of man by night. He begins then also to experience the difference between the Sun as a planet and as a fixed star. It is not at all clear to a man of the present day why in ancient astronomies the Sun counted at the same time as a planet and also in a sense as a fixed star. During the second stage of sleep the Sun has actually, in this experience, planetary qualities; we learn to know the conspicuous and distinct relation in which it stands to the whole life of man on Earth. In the third stage we learn to know the Sun in its constellation in relation to the other constellations of the stars, for example, of the zodiac.

In short, we live our way into the cosmos with far greater intensity than was the case in the previous stage of sleep. We have this experience of the fixed stars, and we retain from it deeper and still more important impulses for the life of the following day than we should be able to have from the planetary experiences alone. We owe it to the experience of the planets that our breathing process and circulatory process are, if I may so express it, ‘enfired;’ but in order for these processes to be permeated, as they need to be, with substance, in order that they may be continually carrying the means of nourishment to the whole of the organism, they require the stimulation that is given by the experience of the fixed stars. The activity that results is apparently a most material one; nevertheless it owes its origin to the working of higher forces than the mere movement of the blood in circulation. As physical human beings we are dependent in our soul-and-spirit on the way in which this or that substance circulates in us, and this dependence is connected, if I may so express it, with the highest heavens; it is connected with the fact that we, as beings of soul-and-spirit, feel within us during the third stage of sleep pictures of the constellations of the fixed stars, just as by day when we are awake we feel within us our stomach or our lung. We have already heard that, as by day our body is in movement inwardly, is filled with the movements of breathing and circulation, so by night our soul, the substance of our soul, is something that has within it copies of the planetary movements. And now we learn that as by day we have in us stomach and lung and heart, so by night we have in us the constellations of the fixed stars. They constitute our inner being. Thus during sleep man becomes in very truth a cosmic being. This third stage of sleep is the deepest of all. Out of it man emerges to return little by little to the waking life of day. Why does he return? He would not return into waking life, did not forces take hold in his soul which lead him again into his physical organism.

We have already approached these forces from many and varying points of view and described how they may be named. Today I want to describe them to you from their cosmic aspect. When through intuition we attain to a knowledge of the experience of the fixed stars, then we learn at the same time that the forces which lead man back again into the physical organism are Moon forces; that is to say, they are what corresponds in the realm of spirit to what appears in a physical picture as the Moon. The action of the forces does not, of course, depend on whether it is full Moon at the time or some other phase, for the Moon can shine through the Earth in a spiritual sense. The metamorphoses which come to expression in the visibility of the Moon do, it is true, enter into the working, but to explain how they enter in would take us to the consideration of much finer and subtler distinctions than we want to describe today. It is in general the forces of the Moon that lead man back.

We may express it in this way. Just as the soul of man is permeated from going to sleep to waking by the planetary forces and by the forces that reveal themselves in the constellations of the fixed stars, just as these forces permeate him through and through and remain with him—for the effects work on in the waking life of day—so is man permeated unceasingly with those spiritual forces which correspond in the cosmos to the physical Moon. It is in reality a marvellously complicated process, but if we want to find some way of expressing it, we might say it is like stretching out a piece of elastic. You know how if you stretch a piece of elastic, it goes a certain distance and then springs back. In a somewhat similar way we, as it were, stretch the Moon forces to a certain point and then are obliged to return. The point is reached in the third stage of sleep, and we are then led back stage by stage by the Moon forces, which are always intimately connected with the bringing into the physical world of soul-and-spirit. From the third, through the second and the first stage we are gradually led back.

It is a fact that the initiative man is able to carry in his powers of ideation and of feeling and thought during day-waking life, is an after-effect of the experience of the fixed stars during the night, whilst the powers of combination he is able to carry in them, the powers of wisdom and cleverness, are an after-effect of the planetary experience. That which rays into the life of day from the cosmos, coming from the experience of the night, is obliged however to enter by way of the body. The experience of the fixed stars shoots into our life of day by way of the metabolism of food. Our food would not enter our head in such a way as to enable us to unfold powers of initiative, were it not that the whole process of metabolism is fired by what we experience at night in connection with the stars. Nor would we be able to think intelligently unless we received into our breathing and blood-circulation during the day the after-effects of the planetary experience of the night.

Things like this are always correct only in a broad and general way; and when the facts appear to be contradictory, as in the case of people who suffer from sleeplessness, then it rests with us to explain the corresponding abnormalities. If such cases are looked into with real thoroughness, they will not be found to tell against these truths. On the contrary, these truths, which are correct in the main, open up for the first time the possibility of explaining the single instance in its real and essential nature.

A true understanding of the human being is alone possible when we become conscious in the widest sense of the fact that man lives not only in his physical body within his skin, but in the whole world. This life in the whole world is concealed from ordinary consciousness only because it is very much dulled and dimmed for the waking life of day. At most we can say that in the general sensation and experience of light we have something of an after-working of our share in the being of a universal cosmos. And there are perhaps other feelings, very dull and dim, wherein man has something left between waking and going to sleep of that sense of being within the cosmos. All such feelings, however, that are given to man remain silent within him by day in order that he may unfold his individual consciousness, in order that he may not be disturbed by whatever plays into his experience from the Cosmos. During the night the case is reversed. There man has a cosmic experience. True, it is a copy only, but it is a faithful copy, as I have indicated. By night man has in reality a cosmic experience and because he must pass through this cosmic experience, therefore is his day-consciousness darkened and paralysed.

The future evolution of mankind will consist in this, that man will more and more live his way into the Cosmos, and that the time will come when he will feel himself with his consciousness in Sun and Moon and Stars, in the same way as now he feels himself with his consciousness upon Earth. Then he will look from the Cosmos upon the Earth, just as now he gazes from the Earth into the Cosmos in his present waking condition. The looking, however, will be essentially different in kind.

If we want to take our stand for evolution in all sincerity and in a wide and comprehensive sense, we must recognise that human consciousness too is subject to evolution, that the body-consciousness man has today is a transition stage that leads over to another consciousness, which will also be a reflection in the soul of facts. Man already now experiences the facts every night. He has need of them; for through them alone in their after-effects can his life be maintained by day. Man's further evolution will consist in this, that he will be conscious in normal life of that which today constitutes for him the unconscious. For this, however, it is essential that he should find his way into Spiritual Science; for just as we need to bend our course in some direction or other when we are swimming, so do we need to give a direction to present-day ordinary consciousness. We cannot merely let ourselves be carried along, as is the case in the customary methods of obtaining knowledge. We need a clear direction. This guidance anthroposophical Spiritual Science alone is able to give, because it unveils, in so far as is necessary for present times, that which is living in man and of which he is not yet conscious. He must receive it into his consciousness, otherwise he can make no cosmic progress.

I have here portrayed for you one section of all that is commonly gathered up from the rubbish heap of modern knowledge and labelled the ‘unconscious.’ Having thus described man’s unconscious experiences during sleep, I will try in the next lecture to describe for you the experiences that lie beyond birth and death.

Dear friends, once again let us first of all remember those who are out there at the front, in the great arena of present-day events:

Spirits of your souls, guardian guides,
On your wings let there be borne
The prayer of love from our souls
To those whom you guard here on earth.
Thus, united with your might,
A ray of help our prayer shall be
For the souls it seeks out there in love.

And for those who because of those events have already gone through the gate of death:

Spirits of your souls, guardian guides,
On your wings let there be borne
The prayer of love from our souls
To those whom you guard in the spheres.
Thus, united with your might,
A ray of help our prayer shall be
For the souls it seeks out there in love.

May the spirit we are seeking as we work towards spiritual knowledge, the spirit who has gone through the Mystery of Golgatha for the good of the earth, for the freedom and progress of man, be with you and the hard duties you have to perform.

Dear friends, I want to begin today by reminding you of something I have told most of you, I think, on previous occasions. If the soul of man develops in the way I have clearly enough described in my public and other lectures, we arrive at a different image of the world. The essential point is that the soul takes the path, as it were, from the sense-perceptible into the spiritual world.

As the development of the soul progresses the physical world will gradually change in our eyes into the spiritual world. We might say that the peculiar features of the physical, sense-perceptible, world gradually disappear and the forms, entities and realities of the spiritual world makes their appearance within the horizons of our conscious awareness. Something important comes to conscious awareness in this way, something I might describe as follows: We ourselves become different—as far as our vision is concerned, of course—we ourselves become different, and the world which is around us to be beheld With our senses then also becomes different. Let us stay with what is nearest to us to begin with: the world that is our earth. Basically spealung, people know really very little of the world beyond this earth during their life on this planet, at least if we persist in the way in which W have grown together with our earthly life. As we advance into the spiritual world—in which case we are outside our bodies—we shall find, as we look back on the body, or the whole of our physical life, or the whole human being, that basically it is growing richer and richer. This human being is all the time gaining in content, is expanding into a world. Man is actually growing and becoming a whole world as we look back on him. That is the reality of words we often hear stressed—in that through spiritual development man grows identical with the world. He sees a new world, a world he normally Is within, and sees it as though arising out of himself. He expands into a world. As far as the earth is concerned, on the other hand, all that is solid in it, all we are used to seeing as its mountains, rivers and so on, disappears. It vanishes and we gradually come to feel ourselves within the earth—please note I am saying within the earth—as though within a great organism. We have left our own world and this inner world, this inner reality, becomes a wide world, whilst the earthly world that was spread out around us now becomes an entity, a being, we must imagine ourselves to be within. As we grow out of ourselves our human world expands into a wide world; at the same time we grow into the earth organism and feel ourselves to be within it just as our finger, say, would feel itself to be part of the organism if it were to have conscious awareness.

That is the experience human beings will have, an experience quite frequently brought to expression by more poetic natures. It is very common for instance for people to compare their awakening in the morning with the awakening of nature around them, their life in the course of the day with the ascent of the sun, and dusk with the need for sleep that develops as we get tired. Such comparisons arise with the feeling men have of being part of earthly nature. They are not worth much, however, for they do not touch on what really matters. As I have said on a number of previous occasions, if we want to choose a comparison that is really in accord with the facts we cannot compare what goes on when we go to sleep and wake up with the processes occurring in nature outside. Instead, we must compare 24 hours in our life with the seasonal cycle of the year. We must take the whole cycle of the seasons to make a fair comparison with what happens in us in a single waking-and-sleeping cycle of 24 hours.⁵⁷ It is quite wrong to compare the period during which a person is awake—between waking up and going to sleep—to summer for instance. This waking state has to be compared to winter in ouside nature whilst summer has to be compared to the sleeping state in man. Making the comparison we would therefore say: The human being goes to sleep and this means he enters into the summer of his personal existence, and in waking up he progresses into the winter of his personal existence. The waking state would approximately correspond to late autumn, winter and early spring. Why would this be in accord with the facts? Because, in evolving into part of the whole earth organism in the way I have indicated, we would indeed have to note that the spirit of the earth is asleep in summer. The earth is then truly asleep; the great conscious awareness of the earth's spirit is dimming. As spring comes the earth's spirit begins to go to sleep. It wakes up again in autumn when the first frosts come. Then it is thinking, it is awake and thinking. That is how a day for the earth's spirit corresponds to the cycle of a year.

Looking back upon a sleeping person we can indeed see how his going to sleep means that ego and astral body are leaving the body. A kind of plant-type activity does actually develop in the organism when astral body and ego have departed from it. Their departure initiates a particular activity in the inner man. We really experience the first stages of sleep as the onset of a vegetative process, and sleep progresses in such a way that to the clairvoyant eye the body is pervaded with vegetative growth processes that are genuinely apparent to imaginative perception. This vegetation has a different way of growing from that of the earth's vegetation, however. These things can be told and they can be much meditated on and in this way we continue to make progress.

The plants of the earth grow upwards from the soil. It is different when we observe this ‘plant growth’ in man. The plants have their roots outside and grow into the human being. This means that we have to look for the flowers inside the human being. The human betng is very beautiful when seen asleep by someone who has grown Clairvoyant. He is like a whole earth shooting and sprouting, with vegetation growing into it. The picture is to some extent marred, however, for we get the impression at the same time that the astral body is gnawing away at the roots. That is how the progress of sleep presents itself. The animal world consumes, eats up, the plants that grow in summer. And we find that our astral body acts like the animal world except that it gnaws at the roots. If this did not happen we would not able to develop that core which we take through the gate of death. what the astral body makes its own in this way is the harvest of life which we do, in truth, take with us through the gate of death. I am describing things the way they appear to clairvoyant awareness. And just as winter comes upon the fruits of the earth and its frosts kill those fruits of the earth, so the entry of our astral body and ego into the etheric and physical body is like a frost coming to kill the vegetation, the spiritual plant growth, that has come up in the organism during the night.

The entity I have called the earth's spirit is indeed an individual entity, just as we are, except that it has a different form of existences with a year being a day for it. Within the earth's spirit we are able to perceive everything I have said of the impulse of Golgotha,⁵⁸ for within it we find the life-giving energy that was not in the earth prior to Golgotha. In it we find ourselves secure, accepted by the spirit which has gone through the Mystery of Golgotha. We become aware of this when we are able to enter fully into the state where the earth has become a being, an entity, of which we are part of the way a finger is part of our organism. It is inevitable therefore that when modern man enters deeply into the world in an occult way there is also a touch to this of religious immersion in the divine element that streams through the world, filling it with spirit. It is a fact that genuine perception of the spiritual world will never deprive man of religious feeling but rather make such feeling more profound.

I wanted to give an indication of what it really looks like when we enter into the world of images of spiritual reality. What we seem to be to ourselves in our ordinary everyday physical awareness is mere semblance, is only an inner core. Yet at the same time it has to be said that this is not correct, for it is not easy to find the words for these significant truths. What we seem to be to ourselves is always at our periphery when we are outside the body with our soul element. It is therefore not correct to say it is a core, for a fruit has its shell or peel on the outside and its valuable part inside. But many things are the other way round when it comes to the spirit, and the valuable Part of man is outside and the shell or peel equivalent is inside. The inner part is shell-like by nature and the spiritual part is what may be called the shell-like part in terms of space. We come to see when we take the path into the spiritual world that the human being is far from simple and indeed very complex. Something we have already made our own to quite an extent is the knowledge that man bears within him something through which he takes part in all the worlds that are accessible to him. Through our physical body we are part of the physical world, through the soul element within us we are part of the soul world, and, through our spirit, of the spiritual world. We extend into these three worlds. We know that when a human being takes the path into the spiritual world he will in fact experience himself in a kind of multiple reproduction. This is what causes enxiety. Our comfortable feeling of being of one piece is broken up and one does indeed get the feeling of belonging to several worlds. This may be presented from many different points of view. Today I shall take one particular point of view, drawing your attention again to what has been the basis of my recent lectures.

Considering the life of man in its inner aspects we must think of it as based on a number of principles, and when we step outside the body man will indeed be found to be divided into four principles. First of all there is the power on which our memory is based. Through memory we raise into consciousness the things we experienced earlier on in life. Memory creates a context for our life, making this life between birth and death a whole. A second principle is the one we call thinking, the forming of ideas. I cannot define it in detail here, for that is not the point, but the activity of forming ideas takes place in the present. And moving further ahead we come to feeling and yet further on to will activity. Looking into ourselves, our own inner life apppears in the activities of remembering, thinking, feeling and exerting our will. Now we may ask: ‘What is the essential difference between these four functions of the soul?’ Psychologists will merely list these functions as a rule, making no further distinction between them. We shall arrive at the truth only by going into the essential nature of these four functions of the soul. We shall then find that will activity is more or less the baby among our soul functions; feeling activity is older, thinking still older, and the activity performed in remembering is th‘old man’, the oldest of our soul functions. You will understand this more clearly if I present the matter to you from the following point of view.

It has been said on a number of occasions that man's development has not been on this earth only but that his present evolution was preceded by evolution on the Old Moon, the Old Sun and on Old Saturn. Man did not just come into being on this earth. To become what he is now he needed to go through evolution on Saturn, Sun and Moon. Now, you see, any will activity we develop is a product of man's earth life. Will evolution is not yet complete, in fact, and it is entirely a product of earth evolution. During Moon evolution man was not yet endowed with an independent will. Angels willed for him. Will activity may be said to have radiated in only with earth evolution. Feeling on the other hand was already acquired during Moon evolution, thinking during Sun evolution and remembering during Saturn evolution. If you now take this together with the thoughts expressed in my Cosmic Memory and Occult Science,⁵⁹ you will discover an important connection. During Saturn evolution the first beginnings of man's physical body arose; during Sun evolution those of man's ether body; during Moon evolution those of man's astral body; and now, during earth evolution, the human ego is evolving.

Let us now take a separate look at the process we call remembering. What is this? The soul retains something of the image of an event we have experienced just as a book we are reading has within it something of the thoughts of the person who wrote it. When you have a book before you, you are able to read and to think—not always perhaps, but I'll ignore that—everything thought by the person who wrote the book. Remembering is a subconscious reading process; the record consists in signs the ether body has engraved into the physical body. If something happened to you years ago, you went through the experiences to be gained from that event. What remains of this are impressions made by the ether body in the physical body. When you recall the event now, the act of remembering is a subconscious reading process.

The hidden processes in the organism which enable the ether body to engrave the signs on which memory depends were in-formed into it during Old Saturn evolution. It is a fact that our organism holds within it this hidden Saturn organism. This may be perceived as a genuine entity into which the ether body is able to enter the signs which record the experiences that come from outside, to recall them again in the process of remembering. Essentially, man owes this subconscious recording faculty to the fact that his body, and specifically the element within the physical body which is to receive those imprints, is still pliable during the first seven years of life. It is therefore important not to subject children to forced memory training. I have drawn attention to this in The Education of the Child.⁶⁰ During the first seven years the still pliable organism should be left to its own elementary powers and we should not use coercion. We should tell children as much as we can but not attach too much value to artificial memory development, rather leaving the child to itself where memory development is concerned. This is a point where spiritual science is of tremendous importance in educational life.

The ability to remember is thus one of the oldest elements in human nature. The activity on which thinking is based is part of what may be said to have evolved on the Sun. It, too, is relatively ancient. The Sun-forces contain a principle which organizes man's ether body in such a way that it is able to perform this specific function of thinking, of forming ideas. So you see that it is necessary to go far, far back in the cosmos in order to answer the question: Why is man able to remember, and why is he able to think? It is necessary to go back as far as the Saturn and the Sun stages of evolution.

To consider man's ability to feel we need only go back as far as the Moon, and for will activity to earth evolution. This will make many things clear to you. Certain individuals bear a particularly strong imprint of earlier incarnations; they are not pliable but clear cut. Much will imprint itself upon their organism. These are people with an almost automatic memory who however cannot be very creative in their thinking.

The faculty of remembering thus relates predominantly to the physical body; the ability to think to the ether body; man's feelings and emotions to the astral body; and his will activity above all to the ego. Man is only able to refer to himself as T because he is a creature of will. If he were only able to think, life would proceed as in a dream. All this means that we are an organic complex of soul functions which were imprinted into our soul life in the course of evolution. I have said that our will activity only evolved during earth evolution and that spiritually higher hierarchies, the Angeloi, willed for man on the Moon. The result was that during Moon evolution all will activity in man was such that if we recall it to clairvoyant consciousness we will indeed see it to have been at a higher level, yet it was involuntary will activity in man, as we see it in animal evolution on earth today. Animals will of necessity follow whatever seethes and boils up within them for they live within the common will of the species.

During Moon evolution, therefore, spiritual entities of a higher kind, the Angeloi, did our willing for us. Now, the spiritual entities of a higher kind are active in determining our karma from one incarnation to the next. The Angeloi are no longer active in our will but in the ongoing stream of our karma. During Moon evolution man did not feel his will to be his own; in the same way we do not, living on earth, believe that we make our own karma. It is controlled by spirits from the higher hierarchies. Only at times when our will is for once able to be still, as it were, will it be possible to have a glimmer of the progress of karma even for nonclairvoyant consciousness, a progress that normally stays hidden.

Please hold on to the fact I have stated—that a core forms in man which enters into the spiritual realm through the gate of death. This core is the vehicle for our karma. Karma has today already determined what each of us will be doing tomorrow. We would be able to see through our karma if it were not our mission on earth to develop the will. We would be able to see through it to the effect that we could under certain circumstances foresee our immediate future. But the will irrupts into the karmic stream and this obscures the prospect, say, of what will happen to us tomorrow. The will has to be completely silent; only then will it be possible for something to come through of what will happen not through us but to us.

As an example, let me give you a story told of Erasmus Francisci.⁶¹ This is based on the truth. As a young man Erasmus Francisci lived with his aunt. On one occasion he dreamed that a man whose name was shouted out to him in his dream was going to take a shot at him, but that he would not be killed, for his aunt would save his life. That was his dream. The next day, before anything had actually happened, he told the dream to his aunt. She got rather worried, telling him that someone had been shot dead quite recently in the neighbourhood. She strongly advised her nephew to stay at home so that nothing might happen to him. She gave him the key to the apple loft so that he might go up at any time and get himself some apples. The young man went up to his room and sat at his desk to read something. Yet what he had been reading was of less interest to him at the moment than the key to the apple loft which his aunt had given and which was in his pocket. He decided to go up there. Hardly had he got up from his chair when a shot rang out and the bullet went exactly to the place where his head had been. If he had not got up the bullet would have gone straight through him. A servant in the house next door—whose name was indeed the one called out to Erasmus Francisci in his dream, a name not known to him before—this servant had not known that the two guns he was supposed to clean were loaded and the gun went off as he started to handle it. If Francisci had not got up to go the the apple loft at that very moment, his aunt having given him the key, he would without doubt have lost his life. His dream therefore had shown exactly what was to happen the following day.

An event occurred of which we are able to say that the will was in no way involved, for Francisci would not achieve anything with his will. He could in no way protect himself; something irrupted into the karma of this individual to the effect that this life was to continue. The spirit controlling his karma had already had the idea that would save his life. The dream represented the pre-vision of the spirit guiding the young man's karma, perceiving what was to happen the next day. Francisci's state of soul was such that a certain depth had already been achieved through natural meditation as it were, and as a result something occurred which I might also compare with something in external life. I think you will agree that man's gift of prophesy with regard to external life on earth is rather limited. In a certain sense we are all prophets for we all know that dawn will come at a certain time tomorrow and so on, or someone walking across a field today will be able to say what that field is going to look like tomorrow. He will not be able to foretell whether rain is going to fall on that field the next day and so on. It is the same with regard to the inner life. Man lives according to his will, and his karma lies within that will. It is possible to develop a certain sense for what is coming next, and in the same way there are certain people whose inner soul has been deepened and for whom an inner point of light may arise for events where the will has to fall silent. It is important in the pursuit of spiritual science to consider such things on occasion, for we then see that there certainly is something alive within man that points to the future, something man is not able to encompass in his ordinary state of consciousness. Karma emerges through a will that has fallen silent.

All the things brought before our soul in this way through spiritual research are able to show us that what we call the great illusion consists predominantly in man being unable to perceive the full picture, in his ordinary consciousness, of what he is—that man is part of the whole world whilst his ordinary consciousness really only shows him the shell, as though he were enclosed within his skin, and so on. Yet what he is shown within this enclosedness is merely a fraction of what man really is, for he is as big as the whole world. We really only look back on man from the outside in ordinary life. In becoming fully aware of these things we can gradually develop a feeling for the presence in man of what is known as his ether body. It is indeed possible to make observations in ordinary life that show at least this second human being, the etheric man, within the physical human being. Imagine you are having a nice lazy lie-in one morning, not feeling inclined to get up as yet; you'd like to stay in bed and it is difficult to find the resolution to get up. If you depend entirely on what is within you it will be difficult to reach the point of getting up. But now imagine there is something in the next room which you have been waiting for during the last few days. The thought occurs of something out there and you will find that this thought can bring about a minor miracle. You will find that once you enter into this thought for a bit you will actually leap from your bed! What has happened? As you woke up, entering again into the physical body, you felt whatever the physical body made you feel and this was not likely to give rise to the thought of getting up. Your ether body then came to act independently, because you engaged it in something outside yourself. There you can see how you have been opposing your ether body to the physical body and how the ether body took hold of you and lifted you out of bed. You arrive at a very specific feeling regarding yourself, the feeling of being an onlooker and making distinction between two kinds of human actions which we perform. There are the actions we perform in the ordinary run of life and those where one is aware of inner activity coming to the fore. These are rather subtle observations and it is, of course, always possible to deny them. We have to attune our observations to life and really see through life and the way it presents itself. Then man's whole inner perception will move in the right direction. It has to be clearly understood that the path to the spiritual world cannot be achieved all at once. It gradually leads out of the world so that we ascend to the point I have just referred to, where what used to be the world for us loses its deadness and itself becomes a living entity.

Gaining in insight, man thus grows together with the spiritual world. He grows together with what we may call his portion which remains when he has put away from him everything gained through the instrument of the physical body, everything which essentially made up his life between birth and death. In going through the gate of death we grow into a world very similar to the one I have just spoken of as the one revealed to higher perception. And then we shall discover something that is very important. In the world we enter on passing through the gate of death, if we want to make ourselves at home in it in the right way, we shall just as we need a light to illumine a dark room—need whatever we have been able to develop within our innermost souls whilst here on earth. Earth life is not something to be regarded merely as a dungeon, a prison cell. It is certainly Part of the natural progress of evolution that man has to go through the gate of death. And he can of course live the life between death and rebirth. But life as a whole exists in order that every part of us adds something that is necessary, something new. As we go through the present cycle, life here is to give us something that ignites like a torch, so that we are not merely alive in this life of the spirit but gain insight and live so as to illumine the whole of this life. The light which illumines us is the one thing we gain between birth and and death that shall remain for our life between death and rebirth.

This is the one thing of which we must say again and again that as many people as possible must come to understand it, particularlY in the present time. All we come to understand of the spiritual world whilst here in the physical world in our physical bodies shall be as a flame to illumine the life of the spirit. In a certain sense all the difficult things the most developed part of mankind has to go through in the present time serve as a reminder that we need to deepen the life of the soul, and it will have to come about that from the depths of the human soul a longing is brought forth for the worlds of which man is part because of his soul. Let us hope that the present time will cause a longing to arise in which every soul says to itself: Man is something quite different again from what he appears to be in so far as he wears the garment of a body. May the events we are experiencing serve to remind us of the need to deepen our soul life, to let the soul become immersed in spiritual perceptiveness, spiritual vision.

Out of our awareness for this need to enter deeply into spiritual science in the present time, and the awareness that the difficulties of the present time are intended as a warning, let us again conclude the way we have always concluded these meetings. I hope it will be possible to continue in the not too distant future. For today let us conclude with the words:

Out of courage shown in battle,
Out of the blood shed in war,
Out of the grief of those who are left,
Out of the people's deeds of sacrifice
Spirit fruits will come to grow
If souls with knowledge of the spirit
Turn their mind to spirit realms.

• 57. See, for example, the lectures Rudolf Steiner gave (a) in Augsburg on 14 March 1913 and (b) in Stockholm on 8 June 1913, both in Die Welt des Geistes and ihr Hereinragen in das physische Dasein (GA 150). In English as (a) ‘The Interactivity of the Good Progressive Powers and of the Retarding Forces—The Significance of These Truths for Teachers’ in Anthroposophical News Sheet 16:45-8 (NSL 398) (tr. not mentioned); and (b) ‘Nature and Spirit in the Light of Spiritual Scientific Knowledge’ in Anthroposophical News Sheet 3:42-4 (NSL 147) (tr. not mentioned).
• 58. This is a subject frequently referred to, e.g. in the following lectures: (a) Nuremberg, 23 June 1908, in Die Apokalypse des Johannes (GA 104); in English as The Apocalypse of St. John (tr. Johanna Collis) (London) Rudolf Steiner Press 1977; (b) Kassel 6 and 7 July 1909 in Das Johannes¬Evangelium im Verhaltnis zum den drei anderen Evangelien, besonders zu dem Lukas-Evangelium (GA 112); in English as The Gospel of St. John in Relation to the Other Three Gospels, Particularly to the Gospel of St. Luke (tr. S. and L. Lockwood) Anthroposophic Press, New York and Rudolf Steiner Press, London 1948.
• 59. Steiner, Rudolf: Aus der Akasha-Chronik, 1904 (GA 11); in English as Cosmic Memory: Atlantis and Lemuria (tr. Karl E. Zimmer) Rudolf Steiner Publications, New York 1971. Die Geheiniwissenschafi im Umriss, 1910 (GA 13); in English as Occult Science: An Outline (tr. G. and M. Adams) Rudolf Steiner Press, London 1969.
• 60. Steiner, Rudolf: ‘Die Erziehung des Kindes vom Gesichtspunkte der Geisteswissenschaft’ (1907) in Lucifer-Gnosis: Grundlegende Aufsatze zur Anthroposophie aus den Jahren 1903–1908 (GA 34): in English as The Education of the Child In the Light of Anthroposophy (tr. M. and G. Adams) Rudolf Steiner Press, London 1975.
• 61. von Schubert, Gotthelf Heinrich: Die Symbolik des Traumes (Leipzig 1840) S. 10 f