The Rudolf Steiner Archive

When an earthquake takes place in some part of the world and people feel the earth stirring under their feet, as a rule they experience a feeling of terror, a shudder runs through them.

If we try to find the causes of this feeling of terror, we must turn our attention not only to those occasions when a person faces the unknown, unexpected and inexplicable, but also to those when terror arises because as long as the tremor lasts he is wondering how far it will go and what may still surge up from unknown depths.

This feeling—even if not always apparent in man's daily life—can often be experienced in contrast to conscious existence, to all those conscious thoughts and feelings in the depths of the soul-life, and which sometimes act in a way that suggests earthquakes.

In what flashes up as instincts and desires along with unaccountable moods and inhibitions which often encroach on our conscious life, with the havoc an earthquake makes where things on the earth's surface are concerned, in all this man—however well he believes he knows himself—confronts this uncertainty: Whatever else will be flung up from the innermost depths of my soul? For anyone who delves more deeply into his being soon sees that all the life of ideas playing part in the consciousness—namely, what he controls from waking to falling asleep—resembles the dancing waves on the surface of the sea, the upward striving of which and the way they carry on their game must be traced to depths unknown to ordinary perception. Such is man's life of ideas. This alone should make those pause who, starting from so-called scientific findings, repeatedly raised objections to the statements of spiritual science imparted in these lectures.

If spiritual science cannot view man as so simple a being as people so often see him, the outer testimony of life itself and daily service are proof of his complex nature.

Spiritual science cannot consider man as only composed of what the eye first sees, or as external anatomical physiological science perceives him, dissects him, and with its own methods studies him. But when confronted by everything outer perception and science can master—that is to say, man's physical body—spiritual science must set up in contrast the higher super-sensible members of his being. We must say that these are only perceptible by means of the knowledge I outlined in the lecture on “Death and Immortality”, [an untranslated lecture given in Berlin on October 26th, 1911. GA# 61. e.Ed.] and of which more will be said in forthcoming lectures. From direct observation, unobtainable in the world of the senses and open only to a clairvoyant consciousness, spiritual science must place over against the outer physical body what we may call the next member of man's being—the etheric or life-body. (One need not object to an expression which like others just serves for a description.)

And when spiritual science affirms that the forces and substances belonging to man's physical body are present and equally active in his environment, it must add that the original activity of these forces and substances first appears in man's physical body after he passes through the gate of death. Man brings these forces and substances into the physical world. During the whole of his life they are attached to the higher etheric forces which counteract the decay of the physical substance, which decay sets in the moment the etheric at death is loosened from the physical. As our study today will soon convince us, for an all-embracing experience of life there is nothing strange when, added to man's physical body, we mention a higher one too. For in life divisions appear everywhere, and man is obviously twofold in so far as this physical body contains all that belongs to his physical environment, and is penetrated by the etheric or life-body.

But spiritual science must point out that everything playing its part in our conscious life must be clearly distinguished from all activities and forces present even when consciousness is extinguished, as normally happens in sleep. For it would be logically absurd to claim that all our daytime instincts, desires and ideas, in their pulsating soul life, arises when we awake, but vanish, leaving no trace, when we fall asleep. When a man is asleep what we see belongs to the physical body and the activity of the physical world. This means that when the man lies on his bed we have the physical and etheric bodies for us, but sharply divided from what we will now call the astral body—the actual vehicle of our consciousness.

Where this vehicle of our consciousness is concerned, if we really want to understand our soul life, we must again clearly distinguished between what always lives in us and is subject to our inner thought and the decisions made by our will, and on the other hand what can be said to surge from deeper soul levels, and is responsible for our temperament, the colouring and character of our soul life, although outside our control. From our normal consciousness we must distinguish all that fills our soul in a wider sense, such as those things we possess from earliest childhood to the end of our days, what makes us talented or not, good or evil, what renders us sensitive to aesthetics and beauty but has no connection with what we consciously think, feel or will. In speaking the language of spiritual science we first distinguish two parts of our soul life: one that forms an extended, or subconscious (as it is now called, it being no longer possible to deny its existence) soul-life, and the other, our conscious life playing its part in all our thoughts, will impulses, tastes and opinions.

Whatever one thinks of the need to make this division, if we consider life in the light of experience we are bound to admit it proves that we must begin by distinguishing these four parts of man. By examining without prejudice what on all sides of life presents, proof is found everywhere of what spiritual science declares. This is especially apparent when one examines the more detailed evidence spiritual science offers. One finds first of all that this knowledge not only tells us of etheric forces working in the organism, shaping this body that bears our soul into a purely physical structure, but it tells us besides that all we reckon as memory is anchored in the etheric body. For not the astral but the etheric body carries our memory, and this etheric, though not closely knit to the life of soul, is closely knit to the physical body that, as a rule, remains attached to it when, as normally happens only in sleep, man sinks into subconsciousness. So according to spiritual science, memory, and everything in our depths of which we are not fully conscious, must be sought in the etheric underlying physical body. To justify considering the etheric as the vehicle of memory, apart from the physical, we should admit that everyday life has to offer us proof of the independence of memory from the physical body.

If these assumptions of spiritual science are correct, how do we explain our relation to the outer world, and does our ego register the conscious impressions this outer world makes on our soul?

In regard to all this we, as men belonging to the physical world, must first depend on our sense organs and our intelligence linked with the instrument of the brain. Thus we may say that everything belonging to man's world-picture, the sum of all that lives in his daily consciousness, depends on the physical body and the state of its health, but above all on normal well formed sense organs and a well-developed brain. Are we justified in saying that what lies in the depths of the soul and can only be reflected in memory, is not bound to the outer organism in the same degree as daily consciousness, but lives beneath the threshold of all that relates to the senses and the brain? Have we reason to speak of an independent memory? If this is so, one would have some right to say that the etheric inside the physical body also has an independent existence, and one that is unaffected by the outer injuries afflicted on the bodily organism. An interesting question we can raise is whether the normal course of consciousness, dependent on a well-developed brain, runs parallel with that of memory, or does the latter function separately so that when the physical body no longer acts as the vehicle of perception, the memory proves itself independent? Let us ask life to answer our question. We shall then discover a remarkable fact, that anyone can verify, for it is to be found in literature. For all our queries regarding facts dependent on clairvoyant consciousness can be answered by seeing whether they are verified by life itself.

A personality whose tragic fate is known to all can serve as an example—Frederick Nietzsche. When the final disaster had for sometime been approaching, and Nietzsche had already experienced sudden attacks of insanity, his friend Overbeck (formerly Professor in Basle who died a few years ago) fetched him from Turin and took him to Basle in very difficult circumstances. Now Bernoulli's interesting book relates the following. I shall skip the isolated episodes of the journey from Turin to Basle and just look at what struck Overbeck after returning with Nietzsche to Basle. Nietzsche had no special interest in what took place around him, nor in anything relating to the sphere of normal consciousness. He scarcely noticed it, nor did he apply any effort of will towards anything that happened. He made no difficulty over allowing himself to be taken to a nursing home where he met an old acquaintance who happened to be the director. When Nietzsche, who had lost all interest for the outside world, heard the man's name, something surged up and, to the great surprise of his friend Overbeck, he immediately went on with the conversation he had held with this doctor many years earlier! He took up the matter exactly where it had been left seven years before—so accurately did memory function; whereas the instruments for the outer perception—the brain, the reason and the normal consciousness—had all been destroyed, thus rendering him indifferent and inattentive to what he would have perceived had his consciousness been normal. This palpably shows how that to which we must now concede a certain independence, continues its function in spite of a damaged organism. But we will go further. An experiment so clearly shown by Nature herself lets us see how matters stand when we make comprehensive use of our powers of observation. When Nietzsche was later taken to Jena, and visited there by Overbeck and others, it was evident there too that they could speak only things he had experienced in the past, and nothing that played any part in his immediate surroundings which could only have been observed by the part of him dependent on the physical body. On the other hand, the independent activity of the etheric body, the vehicle of memory, was very much in evidence. And countless such examples could be cited. It is of course true that a completely materialistic thinker can say that certain parts of the brain had remained undamaged and happened to be those that carried the memory; but one who is of this opinion will find it does not hold good when he faces the actual fact and takes an unprejudiced view of everyday life. Thus over against the physical body there stands the etheric or life body, which spiritual science shows us to be also the vehicle of memory.

In considering man from another aspect, that of his inner life, we see how he is daily aware of waves surging up from unknown depths, of which he is not so conscious as of his thinking, feeling and willing. Among things that point to the way these lower regions affect our soul and our conscious life—for this soul extends beyond the ordinary consciousness—belongs something to which I have already alluded, something most important for people to understand—dream-life. Dreams surging up and down in chaotic forms apparently lack all law and order, yet follow a subtle inner pattern of their own, and, although beyond man's control, play their part in the soul's subconscious regions and come in contact with the upper regions. I never intend to make our arbitrary statements in these lectures, but only those statements which I borrowed as in natural science from life, experience, or based on the findings of spiritual science. In wider circles it is scarcely known that a science of dreams exists in the same way as one of physics and chemistry, but it has disclosed a great deal about what lies hidden in the depths of the soul life. We will begin by relating quite a simple dream, which will probably at first seem absurd but it characterises what tries to reach the soul's hidden depths.

A peasant woman once dreamed she was on her way to the church in the town. She dreamed quite clearly how she reached the town, entered the church and how the parson was standing in the pulpit preaching. She heard his sermon quite distinctly. She found the fervent and heartfelt way he preached most wonderful. She was especially impressed by the way the preacher spread out his hands. This indefinite gesture, which affects many folk more than a definite one, deeply impressed this woman. An extraordinary thing then happened. Both the figure and voice of the preacher were transformed, and, after several intermediate phrases had been passed through, nothing was left in the dream of the parson's fine words. His voice had become the crow of a cock and he had turned into a cock with wings! The woman wakes up, and a cock is crowing outside her window!

If we look into all this we find that this dream has a great deal to show us. First it points out that in elucidating a dream we cannot reckon with the ordinary idea of time. The same idea of time expressed when looking back on our waking life is no longer valid in regard to dreams. No doubt time seemed long to the dreamer as she dreamed of going to town step by step, entering the church, watching the preacher ascend the pulpit, listening to the sermon, and so on. In the physical world all this would have taken some time. Of course the cock did not crow for as long as this, yet it awakened her. Now what the crowing of the cock aroused in the woman's soul corresponds to the backward course of the dream pictures. She looks back on a world she believes herself to have experienced and it is filled with pictures borrowed from the daily life. But the occasion was outwardly caused by the crowing of the cock which lasted a very short time. So if we take an external view of the matter, the length of time necessary for the woman's inner experience would be quite brief in relation to what it seemed in the dream. Now when spiritual science informs us that from falling asleep to re-awakening man is absent from his physical and etheric bodies, and finds himself in his astral body and ego in a super-sensible world invisible to the outer eye, we must realise that the cock's crowing has jerked the woman out of this super-sensible life. It would be wrong for man to think he experiences less in the world he inhabits between sleeping and waking than he does in the physical world, only these experiences are of a purely soul nature. As the woman is roused the cock's crowing plays into her waking, and she looks back on her experience. Now we must not consider the pictures and all the illusions of the dream as what she really experienced in sleep. We must realise—otherwise we shall not grasp the true dream phenomena—that the woman cannot really see into the experiences she has had before waking. But when the moment for waking approaches, the impact of the sleeping on the waking life indicates she has experienced not what it really was: something which induces her to insert into sleep-life symbolic pictures borrowed from daily life. It is as if the woman merges what she sees everyday when awake into pictures concealing her real experience in sleep. For this reason the time sequence does not appear as it really runs; but these pictures drawn over her sleep life like a curtain seemed to take as long to unfold as if they had been physical perceptions. So we must say that dream pictures in many respects are a covering or veil rather than a disclosure of what a person experiences in sleep. It is important to note that the dream—through the pictures man places over his sleep life—is itself a reality but no true reflection, and merely points to the fact that something has been experienced in sleep.—Proof of this lies in these dreams being different according to what lives in the man's soul. Anyone who is tormented by a bad conscience or worried by some occurrence during the day will have quite different dreams from anyone who on reaching the spiritual world in his sleep can yield himself to the peace and blessedness through which life acquires meaning. The quality of the experience, not the experience itself, reveals it to be something happening in the hidden depths of the soul. The dream becomes a particularly good revealer when it appears in the following way. We shall now consider dreams of this sort; I have already referred to it in other connections. In the case of a certain man, this dream, evoked by an event in his youth, was periodically repeated.

Already as a school boy he had displayed a certain talent for drawing, for which reason when he was about to leave school his teacher set him the task of drawing something especially difficult. Whereas normally the boy could copy a number of drawings in a short time, owing to the detail and exactitude this one demanded he was unable to complete it during the year. So it happened that when the time for his leaving school was approaching much remained undone and he had only finished a comparatively small part of the work. One must realise that the student, knowing he would not finish, suffered a good deal of anxiety and fear. But the anxiety he felt at the time was nothing compared to what recurred at regular intervals after a number of years. After being free of the dream for several years the man would then dream he was a school boy again, was unable to finish his drawing, and re-experienced the same anxiety. This feeling would rise to a very high pitch, and once it had re-occurred it would be repeated throughout the week. It would then disappear for years, but would again return, be repeated for a week, then disappear again, and so on.

One understands such a dream only by considering the rest of the man's life. As a school boy, then, he had his gift for drawing and it developed in stages. Careful observation revealed that his ability always increased after the dream which announced improvement in his drawing. He was able to achieve more. So we can say that following the dream the man felt himself filled with a greater capacity for expressing himself in his drawing. This is an extraordinarily interesting thing which can play a part in man's world of reality. Now what light can spiritual science shed on such an experience? If we call to mind what was said in recent lectures, namely, that in man lives the super-sensible core of his being, which not only continuously organises his inner forces but shapes his physiognomy too, and note that this core is a super-sensible entity which is man's basis, we must say: This central core works all his life on man's organism enabling him to keep developing new faculties connected with his outer accomplishments. This central core worked on the physical organism in such a way as to keep increasing the man's grasp of form, giving him the faculties needed to look at things as a draughtsman and to express what he saw in forms. The central core of man's being works into his body. Now as long as its activity streams into the body it will be unable to rise into consciousness. The forces all flow into the transformation of the body and then appear as faculties—in this case a faculty for drawing. Only when a certain stage has been reached and the man is ripe to carry this transformation into his consciousness, enabling him to exercise his newly-won faculties, the moment this central core rises to consciousness, he is able to know what is happening and functioning in the hidden depths of his soul. But in this instance we have a transition. While the man remains unaware that the central core is working on his faculty for drawing, no progress being visible, everything remains hidden in the depths of his soul. But when the time is ripe for this central core to rise into consciousness, this is asserted through a particular dream. It is clothed in this form to announce that the inner core has reached a certain termination with the faculties in question. The dream proves each time that something has been achieved. Until the dream appears the soul forces have been working down in the hidden depths of the body so as gradually to produce the faculties in a crystallised form. But this stage having been reached, and the body being now ready for the faculty, a transition takes place. It does not enter the consciousness at first but streams into the semi-consciousness of the dream. By means of the dream the hidden part of the soul life breaks through to the level of consciousness. So this faculty is always enhanced after being symbolically expressed in the dream.

Thus we see how this central core of man's being works in both physical and super-sensible organisations. Then when man has raised it to a certain level of consciousness, its task is completed, and after expressing itself in a dream its activity is transformed into forces evident in conscious life. What lies below, thus corresponds with what plays its part above in the consciousness, so we see why so much cannot find its way there, being still needed first to form the organs which will produce the faculties destined for conscious use. Thus we see how all life is open to observation and how the central core of man's being works upon his organism. When in childhood man gradually develops from within outwards, this same inner core that later goes on working in him functions prior to the advent of ego-consciousness up to the point of time to which the first memory can be traced. The whole being of mankind is involved in continuous self-transformation. Man is sometimes ignorant of what his soul experiences yet this works creatively in him; at other times this creative activity is discontinued and then it rises into consciousness. In this way our higher spheres of consciousness are related to what lies in the sub-consciousness, in the hidden depths of the soul. These hidden depths often speak quite a different language and contain much greater wisdom than the fully conscious man is aware of. That human consciousness cannot be regarded as the equivalent of what we call the intelligence of things, which seems to reflect human consciousness, can be inferred from the fact that rational activity, the ruling of reason, meets us also where we cannot admit that the light of reason is working in the same way as in man. In this respect if we compare man with the animals we find that man's superiority does not consist in his rational actions but in the light his sub-consciousness sheds upon them. In the case of beavers and their constructions, and wasps too, we see that intelligence governs the animals performances. In this way we can survey the whole range of animal activity. We see that here there rules fundamentally the same intelligence man employs when his consciousness illumines some part of the rational activity of the world. Man can never consciously shed light on more than part of this world activity, but a far wider active intelligence streams through our subconscious soul-life. There, not only does intelligence bring about unconscious conclusions and concepts—as a naturalist like Helmholtz points out—but without man's participation, intelligence produces many things artistic and wise.

I may now refer to a subject already mentioned which I should like to call “The Philosopher and the Human Soul”. I am thinking especially of those 19th-century philosophers inclined towards pessimism. The philosopher deals particularly with reason, the conscious activity of the intelligence, and only admits what this activity can investigate. If we take philosophers like Schopenhauer, Mainländer and Eduard von Hartmann, we find them starting from the idea that when man views the world with an open mind, as far as he can judge everything points to the conclusion that evil and suffering far outweigh joy and happiness. Eduard von Hartmann has more over produced in interesting estimate by which he most ingeniously showed how suffering and sorrow predominate. First he put together all man is bound to experience in this way of suffering and sorrow and subtracted this from the sum of joy and happiness. According to his reckoning, suffering and sorrow predominate; the philosopher deduces this by a process of reasoning and so of course has some justification, for if sorrow and suffering predominate life must be viewed with pessimism. Reason is responsible for the philosopher's example based on calculation, and comes to the conclusion that, from the standpoint of conscious life, the world appears to be anything but good.

In my Philosophy of Spiritual Activity I have pointed out that this calculation based on reasoning, this subtraction, is really not applicable. For who performs the operation, even when it is carried out by an ordinary man who is no philosopher? It is performed by the conscious soul-life. But astonishingly enough consciousness makes no distinction between the values of life. For life again shows us that even if man produces such an example, based on calculation, it does not lead him to conclude life is worthless. From this we must realise (I have already said that Eduard von Hartmann's calculation is clever and correct) that if man makes this calculation he can draw no conclusion from it in his conscious life. Robert Hamerling has declared in his “Atomistik des Willens” that there must be an error in this calculation, for every living being including man even when sorrows prevail still desires life and does not want it to come to an end. So in spite of this subtraction man does not conclude life to be worthless. Now in my Philosophy of Spiritual Activity I have indicated that this example is inapplicable, because in the depths of his soul man calculates quite differently. Only consciousness subtracts, the subconscious part of the soul divides. It divides the amount of happiness by that of sorrow. You all know that in subtraction if the amount of sorrow equals 8 and that of joy 8, too, the result is nought. If one divides instead of subtracting, the sum would read: eight divided by eight equals one; so one always obtains one as a result instead of nought. However high the denominator, provided it is not infinite, it still results in desire for existence. This division is made in man's hidden depths of soul with the result that he consciously feels the value and joy of life. In the same context I indicated that this peculiar phenomenon in man's soul life, namely, that, provided his nature is sound, he still has pleasure and joy in existence and appetite for the world, even when faced by overwhelming sorrow—that this phenomenon is comprehensible only because in the depths of his soul man carries out what in arithmetic we may call a division sum.

So we see that in its depths the soul life reveals how man's subconscious is ruled by reason. Just as the beaver building his lodge, or the wasp, displays an intelligence that by no means reaches the animal's consciousness and for which it cannot consciously account, so intelligence rules the depths of man's soul. Like the force in the sea which drives the waves upwards, this intelligence rises into the consciousness that covers a far smaller part of life than is included in the wide horizon of the soul life. We now begin to understand how man has to look upon himself as swimming on the ocean of the life of soul and consciousness, and how consciousness actually illumines his soul life only in part—the part that with his upper consciousness is swimming on the subconscious. In daily life too we see how man's attention is continually drawn to what governs these lower regions, and how differently life deals with outer events in the case of different people. Things of which we know nothing may hold sway in the depths of our soul. We may have experienced them in a far distant past, and are perhaps outwardly no longer conscious of them, but they still work on. To spiritual investigator they appear implanted and functioning in the centre of man's being, even if their activity does not follow a conscious pattern. Thus the following may occur. An experience that has made a deep impression in childhood may remain present in later years in the depths of someone's soul. We know that children are particularly susceptible to injustice. A child is often extremely open to perceive such a thing. Let us say that, in his seventh or eighth year, a child who has done something or other has experienced injustice either at the hands of his parents or anyone else in his environment. In later years the conscious soul-life covered it. It may have been forgotten in so far as consciousness is concerned, but it is not inactive in deeper unconscious regions. Let us say such a child grows up and in his sixteenth or seventeenth year at school again suffers injustice. Another child who has been spared this earlier experience may grow up and be exposed to the same kind of thing. He goes home, cries, protests, and perhaps complains of the teacher, but there are no further consequences. The matter blows over as if it had never happened and sinks into subconscious regions. But the same thing may happen to the other child who grows up having experienced injustice in his seventh or eight year, no longer consciously remembering it, but this time the matter does not pass unnoticed—and may result in a suicide. The explanation is that, whereas the same thing may have affected the consciousness of both children, in the one something came to light that flashed up from hidden depths.

In countless cases we can see how our subconscious soul-life plays into our consciousness. Take the following which we meet with time and again, but which unfortunately are not properly observed. There are people who during their whole later life display a characteristic one could describe as a yearning. It surges up, and if no one asks what they longer for, they reply that the worst of it is they do not know. Everything one offers them by way of comfort they cannot accept; the yearning remains. Adopting the methods of spiritual science, if one looks back into such a man's earlier life, one will remark that this yearning is due to former quite special experiences. One will then find—anyone who observes in this way can convince himself of it—that in early youth these people's attention and interest were constantly turned towards some definite thing not really belonging to the essential part of their being. They were led into a sphere of activity for which their soul had no longing. Hence the soul was denied what it really desired. Attention was focused in quite another direction. So later the following is seen. As the man's former urge had remained unsatisfied, his various successive experiences have grown into something working as a passion or instinct, manifest as the yearning or indefinite hankering for what earlier could have been satisfied. This is no longer possible because in the course of life attention was first focused on matters to which the soul was not drawn. For this reason these concepts have become so fixed that the man in question no longer understands what earlier would have suited him. Formerly no understanding was shown him where what was ruling and weaving in the soul's depths was concerned. He has now become disaccustomed to it, can no longer grasp it, and what is left is not what was meant for him.

So we see how parallel with man's stream of consciousness there runs an unconscious stream, and it appears every day into thousands of instances. But other phenomena show us how the conscious soul-life plunges into subconscious regions, and how man may make contact with these subconscious depths. Here we come to the point where spiritual science indicates how the soul sheds its light into the etheric body when man descends into his own inner depths. But what does he finds there? He finds what carries him beyond the restricted confines of humanity, and unites him with the whole cosmos. For we are related to the cosmos in both our physical and etheric bodies. When our soul life streams into our etheric body we can live ourselves into the wide spaces of the world, and man then receives the first intimation of something no longer belonging to him but to the cosmos. We then reach the life of human imagination. When man descends still further and inwardly expands over what covers the normal conditions of time and space, he senses how his physical and etheric bodies depend on the cosmos and belong to it. So what is outside man illumines his consciousness when he delves into the hidden depths of his soul. Having seen how the soul's hidden life can flash into human consciousness, we must on the other hand realise that we make our descent in full consciousness. We obtained the same result when we start our descent through Imagination, that is, not fantasy but true Imagination as understood by Goethe. On plunging still deeper we come to what we call clairvoyant forces. There are not limited to man's concerns in time and space, but enable us to attain the wide spaces of the cosmos, normally invisible.

In so far as we penetrate beyond Imagination we come to the sphere of the hidden things of existence. The gateway lies deep in our own soul and only after going through it do we find the spiritual and super-sensible depths of existence which, imperceptible to normal consciousness, form the basis of perceptible things. Through imagination—provided that it does not give way to fancy but that man lives with things so that a comprehensive picture replaces his perception—he realises how he forms part of the things. He knows that Imagination will not disclose the essential being, but Imagination is the pathway leading to what lies deeper than anything reason and ordinary science can grasp. Because of this a philosopher, Frohschammer, in a one-sided way calls the world's basis its creative element, “the creative imagination in things”. So according to this philosophical statement, when from his normal consciousness man plunges into subconscious regions—and who will deny that imagination belongs there—he will become more closely related to the essence of things where imagination is more creative in the things than reason can render possible. In spite of the fact that this outlook is extremely one-sided, it is yet in closer agreement with what the world conceals, than a purely intellectual point of view—when man passes from his intellectual activity into the world of imagination—world of a thousand possibilities compared to the hundred his intellect offers—he feels himself leaving his every day world and entering the manifold possibilities provided by the subconscious. In comparison all surface experience seems merely a small extract. Or may it not be that life itself offers millions of possibilities, whereas barely a thousand are realised on the surface of existence, and these we perceive? One need look only at the spawn produced by fish in the sea, the countless seeds brought forth in life, and compare this with what later appears in life—with what becomes reality. This shows how in its depths life holds far greater riches than appear on the surface. The same thing applies when man descends from what his reason can grasp to the realm of Imagination. Just as when we descend from the realm of outer realities to that of manifold possibilities, do we plunge from the world of reason into the magic land of Imagination.

But it is one-sided to think world creative forces run parallel with Imagination, because although it enables man to make his descent he does not go so far as to rise from these depths to the reality of the super-sensible world. This is possible only after evolving the clairvoyant powers found when he descends—consciously of course—from the surface of the soul-life into its hidden depths. Here we reach those forces that flash up merely unconsciously. If a man has this aim he must fashion his soul into an instrument of spiritual perception, in the same way as the chemist and physicist set up their instruments to observe outer objects. The soul must become an instrument which it is not in everyday life. Here indeed Goethe's words ring true:

“Geheimnisvoll am lichten Tag
Lässt sich Natur des Schleiers nicht berauben;
Und was sie deinem Geist nicht offenbaren mag,
Das zwingst du ihr nicht ab mit Hebeln und mit Schrauben”

“Nature will ne'er by day unfold
From out her veils for you her secret stores;
What from your spirit she would fain withhold
You cannot force from her with any tool of yours.”

Instruments and experiments, those “tools”, will never enable one to reach the spirit, for they are based on what is external. But when consciousness illumines what lives in the depths veiled in darkness, one may then enter those spheres where the soul lives as an eternal, infinite being among creative beings who are infinite as the soul. Only by means of its own intimate experience can the soul be forged into such an instrument. It has been fully pointed out in Knowledge of the Higher Worlds how through meditation and concentration one can acquire what is needed to carry the conscious soul to the hidden depths. When we firmly resolve to exclude all sense impressions, to repress all remembrance of anxieties, sorrows, excitements and so on, including all other feelings, we are left with our emptied soul and all external memories are extinguished as in sleep. But in sleep the forces prevailing in the hidden depths are too weak to reach consciousness or, rather, the soul lacks the strength to plunge consciously into these regions. Man only succeeds in this by focusing his will on his subconscious life, for instance, devoting himself to a definite thought or chain of thoughts, thus performing the work normally done subconsciously. The will must govern the whole proceeding. The will must decide the thought, and only what the man's will sets in motion counts. In meditation man places before him a thought-content his will has selected. He takes a first step when for a given time he allows himself to think, contemplate and remember only what he has placed in his consciousness, keeping his spiritual eye focused, and concentrating his normally disbursed soul-forces. He must make of his will a focal point and not allow the thought to work suggestively. In other words, he must not be controlled by the thought but must always be able to extinguish it at the will. He must train his soul to the point where he brings thoughts to his consciousness through the will alone holding them as long as he likes, thereby inwardly strengthening his will. The thoughts belonging to the outer world are less effective than those we define as symbolic, or allegorical. For instance, if a man brings the thought “light” or “wisdom” into his consciousness, he will certainly reach a high point but will still not get very far. It will be different if he tells himself that wisdom is presented in the symbol of light, or love in that of warmth. In other words, he must choose symbols that have their life in the soul itself. In brief, he must dispense with thoughts borrowed from the outer world, bearing in mind, and devoting himself to, those that allow of many interpretations and are shaped by himself. Of course a materialist can say that such a person is in fact a visionary, as these thoughts mean nothing. But it is unnecessary for them to have any meaning. They serve only as training for the soul, enabling it to plunge into these depths. When man so strictly masters his soul that external influences, or those arising from the depths, no longer prevail, when his will controls every conscious thought, enabling strengthened in the forces to play their part, he then lives in true meditation, true concentration. By means of such exercises the soul undergoes a change. He who reaches this point will observe that his soul descends to other regions. If we described the experience open to one who thus meditates, we see at once in what the super-sensible core consists. The following experience is possible.

Man may come to a point where he perceives that the thoughts he develops are affecting him and transforming something within him. He no longer knows the soul only in thought, but perceives that part of it which drives to expand into cosmic space. It works upon him from cosmic space formatively; he feels himself to be growing into one with space, but always under fully conscious control. Now something of very great importance must be added that must never be neglected when investigating the reality of the outer super-sensible world. Man realises he is experiencing something, but he is unable to think of it in the way he ordinarily thinks. He cannot grasp these experiences with clear cut thoughts. They are manifold and allow of numerous interpretations, but he is unable to bring them into his consciousness. It is as if he were to come up against an obstacle when he attempts to bring all these into his usual consciousness. He must realise that a more extensive consciousness is behind him, but he senses resistance and feels powerless to use the ordinary instrument of his body. One then recognises the difference between what lives within us, and that of which we are conscious. We learn that our forces work into the etheric body, but that our physical body lies like a log outside. This is the first experience. And the second experience, following the exercises repeated time after time, is that the physical body begins to yield, so that the things we could not interpret at first and experienced only in the deeper regions of the soul can now be translated into ordinary ideas.

Everything spiritual science tells us regarding the spiritual worlds is clothed in concepts belonging to everyday life. But in this case the knowledge has not been acquired by logical processes nor by external judgments, but through super-sensible experience and the light shed by consciousness on the hidden depths of the soul. These things are brought into consciousness only after being supersensibly experienced, and he who has fashioned his soul into an instrument of super-sensible perception has now roused what reaches his physical and etheric forces, transforming his organism, thus enabling these facts to be imparted to the outer world and explained in ordinary terms. Spiritual science is imparted logically. When we clearly grasp what lies in our subconscious we can say: the spiritual investigator beholds what he referred to when he said that a repeated dream showed how the essential core first works inwardly, and how later, when the talent for drawing appeared, the man consciously experienced the result. So we first see this working on the subconscious, followed by a transformation; then what has worked in the depths rises into consciousness. In this conscious descent into the subconscious man starts by consciously living in meditation and concentration, after which the will forces he has applied to this transform the etheric and physical body. We ourselves then carry our super-sensible experience into our everyday consciousness. Thus it is possible by spiritual training to gain direct perception of what we observe in life provided we descend to the hidden depths of the soul.

What I have mentioned here as the result of this method of training, the only one suited to present-day man if he wishes to train himself for clairvoyant vision, makes its appearance in a natural way into man who has a tendency to work out of the centre of his soul. Through this natural tendency man can carry certain forces down into the hidden depths of his soul; then there arises in him a natural kind of clairvoyance. Clairvoyance of this kind can lead to what has been indicated just as well as the fully conscious clairvoyance described. When man thus penetrates down into the depths of his soul and perceives how what he has accomplished in his etheric body through meditation and concentration works on his bodily organisation, he no longer remains in the same spatial and temporal conditions as when he is within his purely external perception; he presses, rather, through space, time, and what is usually in the sense world, and comes to the spiritual things lying at the basis of the things of the senses. When we see a man with trained clairvoyant consciousness penetrating to the nature of things, it is possible for this to happen in certain conditions through a natural tendency. In the lecture on The Meaning of Prophecy, (see November 9, 1911 – Berlin) Nostradamus was shown to be a case where natural tendency resulted in clairvoyant powers. How this plays into life, how it generally works, what extended consciousness is and what means the working of soul forces which lie beyond the usual boundary of the conscious life of the soul—all this may be found in a book I should like to mention here. It gives a wonderful description of how the working of the hidden forces of the soul and spirit appear to ordinary science, and also of the connection of the spiritual forces acquired without particular training with what is given in my book about the relation of man to the higher worlds. The book referred to is written by Ludwig Deinhard and called “Das Mysterium des Menschen im Licht der Psychischen Forschung”. In it you find the two methods of super-sensible investigation described—the one which keeps to the methods of ordinary science as well as that which is in keeping with entrance into super-sensible worlds through actual schooling, that is, through meditation, concentration, and so on. But whoever wishes to penetrate more precisely into the soul's experience should turn to the description in my book Knowledge of the Higher Worlds.

Thus the soul manifests the same remarkable turbulence of underlying force that we experience in earthquakes. On the other hand spiritual science is called upon to point out that man can descend to these hidden depths of existence: an experiment of course only his own soul can make. But only by traveling through these regions and first grasping our own being shall we penetrate the depths where we find the spiritual external foundations of what belongs to the outer world. Spiritual science leads us through the inner depths of the soul to the hidden depths of the cosmos. This is the essential part of the methods of spiritual science. When we view things in this way, Goethe's words are confirmed in a quite special sense—words he spoke after Haller had written in such a mistaken way of nature. When Haller said:

“To Nature's hidden core no living soul can probe;
Happy the one to whom she does not show her shell!”,

Goethe, as one approaching the threshold of clairvoyance, was aware of the relation between human consciousness and the hidden depths of the cosmos. He knew it through his own experience, his life in the outer world, by his contact with nature; so to Haller's words which took account of knowledge of the outer world only, he replied;

“Ins Innre der Natur”—
O du Philister!—
“Dringt kein ershaffner Geist.”
Mich und Geschwister
Mögt ihr an selches Wort
Nur nicht erinnern;
Wir denken: Ort für Ort
Sind wir im Innern.
“Glückselig! Wem sie nur
Die äussre Schale weist!”
Das hör' ich sechzig Jahre wiederholen;
Ich fluche drauf, aber verstohlen
Sage mir tausend tausendmale:
Alles gibt sie reichlich und gern;
Natur hat weder Kern
Noch Schale,
Alles ist sie nit eniem Male;
Dich prüfe du nur allermeist,
Ob du Kern oder Schale seist.

“To nature's hidden core”—
O you philistine!—
“No living soul can probe.”
In voicing such a thought
You surely must forget
Me and my kin.
We think that everywhere
We are within.
“Happy the one to whom
She does but show her shell!”
I've heard this now for fully sixty years
Cursing in secret such ideas;
Again and yet again myself do tell:
Richly she gives of her rich store,
Nature has neither core
Nor has she shell,
For she is all in all and everything;
And at the most you can but find
Whether yourself you're core or rind.

We can truly say that the world contains much that is enigmatical and what enters mans consciousness is scarcely more than the outer shell of his life of soul. But if we adopt the right methods we see that man made break through the shell and reach the core of his being, and from these depths gain insight into cosmic life. Thus we can truly join with Goethe in saying:

“Müsset in Natur betrachten
Immer eins wie alles achten;
Nichts ist drinnen, nichts ist draussen:
Den was innen, das ist aussen ...”

“If you would on nature gaze
You must notice all her ways;
Nothing is without, within her,
What is outer, that is inner.”

Man must simply begin to discover what is hidden within! Since spiritual science has its own way of explaining these hidden depths, it must admit that when we contemplate the outer world we are faced by riddle upon riddle. These riddles may often cause a shudder when we find riddles in our own inner being and perceive how these inner forces work in our immediate experience, or when we stand anxiously facing what unknown things may be in store for us. The outside world presents man with a series of riddles. If we rightly compare our outer life with our inner life, we feel something of the activity of these inner soul forces which are excluded from the restricted range of our ordinary consciousness. But these forces surge into clear consciousness just as those of the earthquake thrust through the crust of the earth. When we see on the one hand, however, that we can entertain certain hope that man made descends to the depths of his being, there solving these manifold riddles, on the other hand, we can entertain the hope that the further promise of spiritual science may be fulfilled. This promise tells us that not only can the soul's riddles be solved, but that in passing the gateway of the spiritual world, further vistas of the great outside world unfold for man's soul, and its riddles, too, find solution. Man penetrates through the riddles and barriers of the soul if he has the courage to comprehend himself as a riddle and if he bestirs himself to raise his soul, as instrument of perception, to the hope and assurance that for his spirit the great riddles of the cosmos may be solved, thus bringing him satisfaction and a sense of security in life.

This is the 6th of 12 lectures given by Rudolf Steiner at Berlin, in the Autumn of 1913 through the Spring of 1914. The title of the series of lectures is: Spiritual Science as “Lebensgut”. It was published in German as: Geisteswissenschaft als Lebensgut.

This lecture is to deal with a subject taken from the study of culture and art, and my purpose is to show you how Spiritual Science aims to penetrate to the essence of historical evolution and of the human personalities which find themselves within it.

History nowadays has come to be regarded as a science among the sciences. Nevertheless a very notable book recently published disputes the claim of history to be called a science on the grounds that it is only the concatenation of single events and achievements which cannot recur, at least in that particular form, a second or third time. The author argues as follows: If we have a number of facts, say about a raindrop, we can deduce laws which the raindrop obeys—that is, we can make a scientific statement because other raindrops follow the same laws; and this we can also do in the world which does in some way repeat itself. Historical facts on the other hand are unique; we can recount them but we cannot base on them anything that could be truly called a science.—Now if we accept the ideas and concepts which are nowadays regarded as scientific, we shall have to admit that our author is right. But it is very different if we look at history in the light which Lessing in his day tried to do in his “Education of the Human Race”; as an evolution, an upward movement of the whole of humanity in which the effective influences passing from one epoch to another, are the souls of human beings. Sense and meaning come into human history as soon as we cease looking at it just as a series of events occurring in some sort of sequence and never repeating themselves, and begin to believe that the souls of human beings continue their existence in successive earth lives, and that what influenced them in one life is carried over into the spiritual world and there made fruitful in the period between death and a new birth until it appears in a new life: so that a real progress and development is possible in the succession of historical events. In this way we can see a meaning in the study of single epochs; their significance lies in the new experiences which souls were unable to have at the age in which they lived but which they can now experience and carry over once more into later epochs. In this way and thanks to Spiritual Science we can once again regard history as a science.

Perhaps one of the best ways to reach some notion of such an evolution of human history—not in abstract theory but appealing to the feelings—is to study the great epochs of art and the great artists. We shall never be convinced of the reality of man's repeated lives on earth by any abstract argument. But if we seriously observe life and try by every means to understand the secrets of our existence, we shall find ourselves becoming gradually more and more convinced of the fact of repeated earth lives, the more we study reality as a whole. I hope to contribute something towards such a study by trying to show you the place which Michelangelo holds in the spiritual life of the West.

If we look at this spiritual life of the West and indeed of the whole of humanity in the light of this conception of repeated earth lives we shall soon come to see a real significance in such an evolution of man, for each successive epoch differs from the earlier one and human souls have correspondingly different experiences. Unless we take a very shortsighted view of human history, we cannot accept the notion that the human soul has been more or less what it is today since first it rose above the animal. If we look a little more deeply into earlier periods of history and especially if with the help of Spiritual Science we look at pre-Christian times, we shall find that the whole basic tone and quality, the whole constitution of the human soul was different in those earlier periods and has changed considerably in the course of human history, that in fact the structure of the soul has been perpetually changing in the successive epochs of human history. We shall see this particularly significantly if we take an artist like Michelangelo in the Sixteenth Century and study him in relation to artists of earlier ages who worked within the same field. Obviously in such a study we should look at Michelangelo's achievement side by side with that of the Greeks. But as soon as we look beneath the surface we shall see the immense difference there is between the two. In order to recognize this it is necessary to go briefly into the particular way in which Greek sculpture affects us.

It is a pity that a lecture like this cannot be given with lantern slides or other visual aids, though fortunately you can easily get access to first-rate reproductions of the material necessary in any History of Art and see for yourselves in actual detail, what I am describing. When Herman Grimm set about writing his wonderful book on Michelangelo in the 1850's, he could not give any illustrations at all—though the second edition published forty years later was illustrated and thus reveals clearly the secrets of Michelangelo which even Grimm's descriptions in his “Life” could not give. Modern reproductions make it even more possible to reach some insight into the basic ideas and forms which are to be found in the development of art through the ages.

If we let Greek art and especially Greek sculpture work on us, we shall certainly feel that the best of it (much of which may be no longer accessible to us) in the forms in which it appeared, must have spoken to the Greeks like a message from another world. This creation of form was possible to the Greeks because something lived in their souls which did not come to them immediately through their physical senses. They bore within themselves an inner feeling-knowledge of the way in which the human organism is formed. The whole of a Greek's general education contributed to this but it was also important that the Greeks lived at a different epoch of humanity when the soul was more closely interwoven with man's whole organism; for instance, in the movement of the hand they felt the particular angle the hand made with the arm; or they could feel the particular muscle extended by their hand or foot. The Greeks could feel this sort of thing—they could feel and experience how the organic and the soul were related. They had an immediately-felt knowledge of their own organism so that the artist did not need to look at outer nature or external models in order to create his forms. An inner knowledge gave them the understanding of their muscular structure and anatomy, and their inter-relationship. They could permeate their whole organism with their mood of soul which flowered within them. Even what survives to us of Greek sculpture reveals that when the sculptor set his hand to a statue of Zeus, for instance, his soul was permeated with a sort of Zeus feeling. He then knew what inner tensions this feeling could resolve and thus, from within outwards, he could give to matter is appropriate form. He put his soul into matter. It is natural that at the present day we should have no feeling for the very different mode of experience of the Greeks. But, that mode being given, anyone who looks properly at the works of Greek sculpture will perceive that they give expression to what man experienced as the activity of his soul. Greek sculpture in general expresses what lies within the soul. We need not concern ourselves whether this Zeus or this Hera and the rest are gods: that makes artistic study a matter of storytelling. What does matter is the way in which the Greek sculptor worked upon his Zeus or Hera—withdrawn into his life of soul, as we ourselves feel withdrawn when we experience in the organic process of muscular tension the activity of the soul in our organism, and the soul is attuned to their experience. This withdrawing, and this having to go out in order to enter space, to manifest itself in space, is characteristic of the plastic art of Greece. This is a world that strives to reveal itself. This is true also of the larger sculptured groups, at least as late as the “Laocoon”; their purpose is to make us feel something of a world of soul. Around and about us is the rest of the human world, and indeed ourselves; and the work of art has some relation to us only when we direct our soul towards it. Yet this work of art does not belong to the same space, the same world, in which we normally move and hold converse; it remains alien to it.

Suppose now we pass from these Greek sculptures to the “Moses” of Michelangelo. We shall feel compelled to say that no sculptor has ever given expression to the powerful will of Moses as he did. The whole impression is of a leader of his people who fills his people with his own spiritual power and pours his own will over a whole people and remains their leader far beyond his own lifetime. So completely does this Moses diffuse the sense of human power that we are quite ready to accept in it something which is quite unrealistic. The statue as we all know has two horns; but it is by no means sufficient just to say that these are the symbols of Moses' power. If a lesser artist than Michelangelo were to do a sculpture of Moses and give it two horns like this and justify them as symbols of power, we should not admire them because we should not believe in them. Yet Michelangelo sets before us his Moses as representative of his age so completely penetrated with force of will that he can put upon him these extraordinary horns; and we are quite prepared to believe in them. What matters is not what is actually represented but rather that we should believe in all the details of what is represented, even if they are unrealistic.

Now let us turn from Moses to the statue of David; and let us look at him in relation to what we have seen to be true of Greek sculpture. He is shown at that moment when in his heart he becomes fully aware of what lies before him; he is shown grasping his sling at the very moment before he accomplishes his deed. Earlier artists like Donatello (1386–1466) and Verrocchio (1436–1488) who had done a statue of David, had shown him with Goliath's head beneath his feet. Michelangelo chooses the moment when the soul becomes aware of its task, and that moment is given external expression, and we might well believe that the artist had firmly seized hold of some special inner condition of soul. But as with the “Moses,” so with the “David”—that is by no means all, there is something else equally important. Moses might quite easily get up and proceed further: for he exists within our space, and the same space which gives us life gives it to him also. These two statues are removed beyond what is a mere element of soul; they are set within the actual world around us; we should not feel at all surprised if we saw David actually using his sling.

Here is the significant change between the old and the new, and from this point of view Michelangelo is the most significant artist. While the Greeks had created works of art which deny the outer world and produce their effect on our souls as from another world, Michelangelo sets his figures into the same world in which we live; they share our life within that world. With a slight exaggeration we might say that while the statues of the Greek gods breathe only the air of the gods, Michelangelo's breathe the same air as ourselves. This is not just a matter of realism or idealism as we use those clichés: rather we should recognize that Michelangelo is the most important artist who takes his figures away from the realm of the soul and sets them within this earth existence of ours so that they live as real beings among men. Once we have accepted the fact that in the spiritual development of humanity a special task was laid upon Michelangelo, we shall not be surprised to discover that in his earliest youth he displayed the faculties necessary for this task, faculties which he brought with him from the spiritual world. Our scientific geneticists would have difficulty explaining the facts: how he was descended from a family that belonged to citizens of noble extraction but which had fallen on evil days, a family which certainly did not possess any of the qualities needed for the specific task that was to be Michelangelo's. At first it was intended that he should go to school like the others, but he was perpetually drawing and drawing in such a remarkable way that no one could imagine where he got it from. Finally his father sent him to study with Ghirlandaio, but great artist as the latter was the boy could learn nothing from him. Michelangelo's drawing sprang from some self-evident quality of genius. Through having his attention attracted to Michelangelo's drawings Lorenzo de Medici took him into his house and there he spent the three years 1489 to 1492; he had been born in 1475. His first object of search that seemed to him especially important was the relatively insignificant relics of antiquity, of Greek sculpture. But—and this is the characteristic thing—he very soon combined all that he saw, and which made so deep an impression on him, with an energetic and intensive study of anatomy. In his soul he acquired an exact knowledge of the inner structure of the human body. In all his works we can see the effect of these anatomical studies and of the knowledge he had acquired. Before the soul could experience anything or have some particular mood, he found it necessary to know the position of the muscles. So we can see how two currents were flowing together in Michelangelo and were to produce something more than any contemporary talents could create: humanity had now moved forward to a new epoch, and what the Greeks had been able to experience within themselves, by the inner “life sense” which was still active within them, Michelangelo had to acquire through external senses by close observation of outer nature and her structure.

This sort of example can show us how the development of the human soul moves on, how what was impossible for the soul in one epoch becomes possible in another, and how the highest achievement is possible at different times with different means. While he was still quite young, in 1498, Michelangelo attained the wonderful Pieta which we see immediately on our right when we enter St. Peter's. This work still bears traces of the Italian tradition deriving from Cimabue and Giotto it even has still a sort of Byzantine quality. Yet if we note carefully what he actually achieved in the Pieta, we can see how his exact and realistic study of the human body has influenced it. Thus he could create a sculpture which was the equal of the Greek because he had learned to observe externally.

Why had this become necessary? We can see this particularly well in the Pieta if we note how in the progressive development of humanity since the days of the Greeks something quite alien to them had entered in. The natural life sense which the Greeks possessed made it possible for them to reveal almost spontaneously how the human body actually appears in some particular mood. In between the time of the Greeks and the rise of Western Europe we have the world conception which reached its peak in Christianity but which originated in Judaism and still retained to some degree the old command, “Thou shalt not make any graven image of what is spiritual.” I don't know how many people have given much thought to the fact that between the age of the Greeks and the age of Michelangelo there came one in which it really was a fact that no image was to be made. The earliest Christians did not make any pictorial representation of Christ but employed only symbols—the fish symbol, the monogram of Christ. The same had been true of the Jews who had, of course, as one of their Ten Commandments, “Thou shalt not make any image of the Lord Thy God.” Yet when we enter the most important chapel of Christendom, the Sistine Chapel in Rome, we see the command disregarded by Michelangelo when, at the height of his creative powers, he painted the Father God on the ceiling of that chapel.

Michelangelo could achieve these new heights of church art only by disregarding that command. But between his time and that of the Greeks there had to be a period of preparation. And so we shall be able to realize that it is not just a false analogy when we say that successive epochs of humanity are like day and night, and that between the day periods there have to be nights during which human faculties pass into a sort of rest state, to appear again later in strengthened form. The achievements of Greek sculpture had to pass through a sort of formative period in sleep, during which even for that the command had to be heeded: “Thou shalt not make any graven image.” Then, however, there follows the day of wakening, in a new form, in Michelangelo. But whereas in nature things reappear in the same form and one day resembles another and the plant its earlier form, the progress of humanity shows this special characteristic that the souls, who carry over their fruits from one epoch to another, undergo at the same time some upward change and metamorphosis. But this rest period of the human faculties has first to occur in this and every other sphere.

Thus after this period during which sculpture rested, there appeared the Christian ideal: an inner quality of soul, a mood of greater inwardness. This is true, for instance of the Pieta in which the youthful mother holds on her lap her dead son; if we compare it with any Greek work of art, we shall see that it could have been created only in an age when the soul had become more inward. There is a marked difference between Michelangelo and the Greek sculptors; he stands at the beginning of the modern age, the age that is of materialism. Man's senses were beginning to be directed outwards so that they could pass through a period in which these senses could reach their highest and intensest development. But there must always be some counterbalance in human evolution. Thus we see in Michelangelo on the one hand an artist who poured his soul forth into the outer world that he might create his figures. On the other hand, that he should not merely create what the senses can see, he employed to the full everything he could assimilate from a period of evolution during which the soul had become more inward. This inner deepening he expressed by external means; he made himself sensitive to what was inward in outer nature. If we look at the dead body of the Christ we can see at once that this is a beautiful human body such as nature would wish to create—and Michelangelo could recreate that. But there is also something further, and indeed in a double aspect: first, the extraordinary peace in death that streams over this body; and second, if we look at the group as a whole—the countenance of the young mother who bears the adult body of her son Jesus Christ on her lap yet seems too young to be in any external sense that man's mother—we receive from the form of the hard stone the feeling that what lies before us in death is the warrant for the external life of the human soul. The deepest secrets and the greatest inwardness are expressed realistically through the natural means which Michelangelo had studied.

When Michelangelo returned from Rome to Florence we can see a remarkable drama unfolding itself. There was an old block of marble from which some earlier sculptor had unsuccessfully sought to hew some figure and which the Council of Florence handed over to Michelangelo to try and make something of. He happened at the moment to be working on his David, so he decided to use this particular block. Now if we follow this work as it proceeded, we shall be able to see how Michelangelo set about his task. His greatness consists largely in a period which was to depend wholly on sense observation, yet he carried over something from those earlier epochs, the life of which he could share, and could thus still have some immediate feeling of what Goethe called the spirit of outer nature.

Here I should like to refer to something which in general receives too little attention. If through Anthroposophy we make our souls once again sensitive to the weaving of imagination, we shall feel when we see a block of marble before us, that something specific should be made from it. It is not without significance that we find among the inhabitants of mountain districts all those stories about enchanted beings which their folk soul devises: when people see a block of stone before them, there is a plastic imagination which tells them that not much would be needed to convert it into an example of some quality of human or animal nature. Each type of stone calls for its own specific form, and each type has its own secrets which the artist must extract from it.

Michelangelo began work on the block and at first made it a sort of image of his thoughts. This was merely the first expression of his ideas, his feelings; as he looked at the stone he felt that thus the hand must lie and thus the foot, and thus everything else. He could, as it were, listen into the secrets hidden in the stone; that after all is what plastic art means. In the end we feel that the block was presented us with what lay hidden within it when everything had been removed that did not really belong to it. An artist of the quality of Michelangelo would never create in bronze or other materials what he did in stone.

For this purpose, however, Michelangelo, because he no longer had the life sense active within himself, had to fall back on what he could get from his anatomical studies. Thanks to his careful studies, and to the fact that he comprehended artistically what came to him from an earlier period, he stands at the opening of the modern age in the same relation to art and nature as science had led to in its own sphere. It is not just a coincidence that Galileo was born on the day that Michelangelo died. Here is a point of view that we should bear in mind, particularly when we are looking at his David.

This then is the characteristic quality of Michelangelo: that he has penetrated to the heart of nature as she showed herself in his times, from one point of view still closely akin to what had gone before but at the same time a growing point for what is to come. If he created Madonnas or some other Christian motif, the reason for this lay in the culture within which he lived—and that is perhaps truer of him than of most other artists. What he brought through his own soul into his times I have been trying to describe, and what we can see in other ways as well. The fundamental trait about Michelangelo's work is that he sets his creations within the same space in which we ourselves stand. Look at his Madonnas; in the earliest phase the child rests wholly on his mother's lap. But Michelangelo moves beyond that phase and puts himself quite realistically in the same space in which we ourselves live. Thus he releases the child from the repose and inner withdrawal; he cannot leave it as a bare expression; he must bring it into motion so that it may seem to live in our world. And if we look at the wonderful ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, on which he has represented so majestically the creation of the world, the Prophets and the Sibyls, and if we let all this produce its effect upon us, we shall find that what really interests us is not the thing actually expressed but the way in which Michelangelo has represented it. We shall feel, for instance, that the foreshortening of the legs, which brings to expression the very nerve of his art, as I have tried to describe it, interests us much more than the content, the story that is described and that could be expounded in various ways.

We need not be surprised then that Michelangelo sets himself the task, supported to begin with by the Pope, Julius II, to create something which would be directly associated with the life of his time, in a different way, however, from that in which Zeus or Hera or Apollo even in the form of the Apollo Belvedere were related to the Greek world. These, although they were the creation of the Greek world, belong to a space of their own and reveal that space. Michelangelo wanted to create a truly gigantic work but wanted also to pour into it the whole inner development, the basic character and fundamental nature of his times. Now to Michelangelo and many of his contemporaries, Pope Julius II, who loved to compare himself to St. Paul, seemed the mighty incorporation of his age; he was, and seemed to himself to be, the great master of his times. When a man holds such a place in his times, he has some special relation to the soul of others who affect them; and this whole stream of culture, the inmost essence of the times and all they signified, represented in one man, was to flow together and be made immortal in the gigantic monument of Pope Julius II. The monument was to include not only the Pope but Moses and St. Paul, and other figures that influence events and in the truest sense direct the times. The very stone was to carry to later ages the living message so that generations to come might look at this monument and see in it the direct picture on earth of the course and culture of the times of Michelangelo. A truly gigantic task; and we should not be surprised that the man who was bold enough to contemplate it aroused the awe of his contemporaries and was called by Pope Leo X “Il Terribile.”

Thus Michelangelo returned to Rome in 1505 to discuss with Julius II the plans for his tomb, and he soon began on the preliminaries of the work. But petty jealousies brought it to a standstill and the Pope transferred his interests from the tomb to St. Peter's, the architect of which, Bramante, is said to have goaded him on because he feared the artistic greatness of Michelangelo. So Michelangelo had the bitter experience of being forbidden the Pope's presence though the Pope had summoned him to Rome. In fact, he was actually driven out and had to flee from Rome, only returning under a special safe conduct from the Pope.

Back in Rome he had to set about his new task, the painting of the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel; a task for which he had been commissioned as some compensation for the stopping of work on the tomb. Now though he had done a good deal of painting, he did not feel himself really to be a painter; nor did he regard himself as sufficiently prepared for his work. It was therefore with a sorrowing heart at having to give up work on the tomb, even if not with actual dislike, that he tackled the task which, as he said himself, was outside his own sphere but which kept him busy for the four years from 1508 to 1512.

Let us keep in mind what he has to tell us himself out of the depth of a sorrowing heart about this period of his life when he was at work on the ceiling—his head twisted backwards and his eyes distorted upwards to such an extent that months after the work was completed, he could read or study drawings only if he held the paper above his head. In addition, he did not receive the payments due to him and he lived in perpetual anxiety for his family in Florence whom he supported with every penny he could save. Under conditions like this he created one of the greatest works of art the world has seen, the noblest pattern that could be devised by the Christian world of the time. He sought to represent the whole story of man's evolution from the creation of the world to its highest point in the coming of Christ to earth and the Mystery of Golgotha. He successfully transferred from his sculpture to his painting the vital creative principle which informed his whole work. When we turn our gaze upwards to the ceiling, we really do feel as if God the Father were surging through the still chaotic space, and by His Word marvelously creating the world. But this space and this figure in all its details down to its flying hair, its glance and its gesture, all are part of the world in which we ourselves stand. We live together with this God the Father; we feel His creative Word surging through the world.

The way in which traditions from the past still echo in the work of Michelangelo can be seen particularly in his “Creation of Adam.” Michelangelo paints this with God the Father surging through space with hand outstretched, and with this hand touching that of the still-sleeping Adam. We can observe how sleep is gradually receding by the ray of light which passes from the index finger of God to that of Adam, who can be seen waking out of a sort of world existence into that of man. Within his cloudlike raiment which seems to be held aloft by the space-ordering powers, God the Father conceals the figure of a young woman just reaching maturity; she stands forth among the other Angel figures turning her curious glance to the just-waking Adam. According to the Bible Adam was first created and Eve created out of him but, for Michelangelo's Adam, Eve is brought forth from past ages by God the Father who conceals her in His raiment. Michelangelo can see more deeply than tradition could tell him into the secrets of creation; and what he saw is confirmed by the investigations of Spiritual Science into the male and female principles.

Let us now pass to the pictures of the Prophets and Sibyls, those beings who proclaim to man what is to come in the Christ-Impulse and the Mystery of Golgotha. Here again what matters is not the narrative element in the pictures but the purely artistic way in which Michelangelo has shaped these Jewish Prophets. All of them as they are seated there—one of them bending in deep thought over a book, another in meditation, a third perhaps in anger—point in the one direction which will only become clear to us if we turn our gaze towards the Sibyls.¹ These Sibyls are very peculiar figures and modern Christianity will have nothing to do with these heralds of the Mystery of Golgotha. What do they really signify?

In the Sixth Century B.C. philosophy came to birth, and unless we spin fantasies like Deussen we cannot really speak of the philosophy of any earlier times. Philosophy began in Ionia, and it was there that human thinking first tried to comprehend the world through its own powers. There we have the first instance of man reflecting about his own thought which led later to the immense developments in Plato and Aristotle. These Sibyls look like a sort of shadow of Aristotle, the man who raised thinking to the highest level of clarity. The first of them appear in Ionia: subconscious, dreamlike, mediumistic forces of the soul surge through them; they put into words, though often in confused form, what is given to them. Generally it is oracular sayings which they utter; often little more intelligible than we get from modern mediums. But there is something further in their utterances; they are pointers to the Christ Event and we have to take them just as seriously as we do, though from a different point of view, the utterances of the Jewish Prophets. How did the Sibyls come to make these utterances? The investigations of Spiritual Science show that the forces of the Sibyls come actually from the forces of the earth spirits which are directly related to the subconscious depths of the human soul. If we can feel what Goethe called the “spirits of bodies,” we shall be sensitive to the spirit surging in the wind, in the waters, in everything elemental. It was this spirit of bodies, spirit at its lowest level, the spirit nevertheless, which pointed the way to the Mystery of Golgotha, which possessed the Sibyls. The Prophets opposed this spirit. They sought to attain their purposes only by actual thinking by the conscious ego. They rejected everything that was subconscious or Sibyl-like, even if it foretold the highest things. Sibyls and Prophets stand over against each other like the North and South Poles—the Sibyls inspired by the spirit of earth, the Prophets by the cosmic spirit which lives not in the subconscious but in those experiences of the soul which are fully conscious. It was for this reason that the men who have written for us the story of Christ emphasized so strongly how He drove out the demons from those within whom the sibylline forces still worked: that is the after-effect of the Prophets whose aim it was to use their powers of reflection on everything that was higher than the sibylline. For this reason also, Christ Jesus was so insistent that these sibylline forces which showed themselves as demonic beings should be driven out.

Thus we have both the prophetic and the sibylline element proclaiming to us the Christ-impulse; that is the content, the theme of Michelangelo's work. How does he handle it? Let us take note of the Sibyls, and first the Persian. She holds a book immediately before her eyes so that she may foretell the future from what the book says; and she seems to be wholly possessed by lower elemental forces. In the case of the Erythrean Sibyl we can see from her countenance how forces live within her which are related to the spiritual evolution of humanity, but which concern the subconscious, not the fully conscious forces of the soul. A boy with a torch is lighting a lamp; every one of this Sibyl's movements expresses her elemental quality. The Delphic Sibyl stretches her hand towards a scroll; the wind sweeps through her and her raiment and hair flutter; she is directly bound up with the elemental forces of the earth which have gripped her soul so that she can utter her prophecies. In this way Michelangelo places the Sibyls within the realms of actual existence within which we live ourselves, and he expresses all this in external forms. If we then pass to the Cumaean Sybil with her opened lips and finally to the Libyan, we see in them, though transformed, what we must call the pagan proclamation of the Christ Impulse.

In the facial expression of the Prophets, in the movements and emotional turmoil of many of them, in the manner in which their eye reads as though it could never again leave the page—in all this we can see how they seize upon the truths which exist in eternity. We could not conceive of anything represented thus with artistic necessity that could use external forms so directly to express what was wanted as this juxtaposition of Prophets and Sibyls. We can read for ourselves, in these ceiling paintings, how the Christ-impulse was foretold. The whole of pre-Christian history is here put before our eyes—the ancestors of Mary, shown despite their number in majestic variation, and expressing always the character of the epoch through one of them.

How did Christ come into the world? And how did the world develop so that all human history until the coming of Christ could occur within it? The noblest answer that could be given in pictures is here on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.

Michelangelo hoped that after completing his task here he would be able to continue work on the Julius monument. But again nothing came of it for years and he was held up by the multifarious jobs to which in the meantime he had to apply himself. Of them we need not say anything here; but we should note the following—When developments at Rome prevented him from continuing with the monument, once again he was given a task of painting to do. He was to paint the two end walls of the Sistine Chapel. One he did complete, the Last Judgment. But what we can see there today in Rome is by no means what Michelangelo painted. Not only is the wall darkened by the smoke of the hundreds of candles used for the Mass, so that the original freshness of color has long since vanished, but even in his lifetime this mighty work was overpainted and spoiled by inferior artists who used the most appalling mixtures of paints and shading to clothe some of the too many figures which Michelangelo had painted naked. Yet in spite of all, we can see for ourselves how Michelangelo, the artist whose task it was to make the transition to the age of realism, created his figures within the same space in which we live. If we look at the portrait of “Christ as Judge of the World,” He will inevitably remind us much of Jupiter and Apollo. Herman Grimm, who copied this figure at close quarters, repeatedly stressed the likeness between this head and the Apollo Belvedere. We should remember that when Michelangelo came to Rome at the beginning of the sixteenth century the “Laocoon”, the “Hercules Torso” and other statues, had just been dug up (1506) and these survivals of antiquity made a deep impression on him, though he permeated everything that he did with what we can see to be his own creative principle. Thus it comes about that what men in general felt about the fate of the human soul in its earthly body, what they called the destiny of the Blessed and the Damned, can be seen in Michelangelo's painting growing out into space. If we look at it first through half-closed eyes we can see the cloud forms which appear as natural as those of real clouds. The Christ figure and the Angels with trumpets emerge quite naturally, so also do the souls of whom some are led into blessedness, others thrust down into hell. Michelangelo puts before us the deepest secrets of his work and reveals to us the hidden destiny of the human soul growing forth from what we ourselves know and what our senses show us.

Michelangelo was in actual fact deeply rooted in his own age. Those of you who can remember how I tried to represent Leonardo da Vinci and Raphael will have noticed how very differently I spoke of them. Unlike them, Michelangelo was rooted in what I have called the principle of his time.

He was nearly 90 when in 1564 he died. Every period of man's life can be creative; it depends only on what he can extract from it. His personality is closely related to what he has to give to the world. How different was Raphael who died in his middle thirties, just the age when the artist, more than other types, is doing work which will bear his own personal stamp. It is for this reason that we think of Raphael as a sort of revelation of super-sensible powers; there is nothing really personal that flows into his work. That is characteristic of him. Michelangelo is just the opposite; in every fiber of his work we see the color of his personality. Raphael wholly impersonal—Michelangelo wholly personal. If we try to judge by some set pattern as is so common with modern artists we shall never get the individual qualities of individual artists; we shall prefer one of them to the other, whereas both of them and Leonardo as well, have to be judged each by his own measure. Michelangelo's special quality is that in all his works, whether he worked in stone or in color, we find a peculiar artistic quality which was the expression of his time; hence the all-embracing character of his work which gives universal expression to what lives in him.

In order to make clear the way in which the spirit of Michelangelo developed I want to say a word about his work as builder and architect and to refer especially to what is his greatest achievement, that remarkable work of artistic mechanics, the Dome of St. Peter's at Rome, of which the present form is due really to him. He did not live to see it completed and died even before the drum was finished. But we possess sketches and drawings, and also the wooden model of the dome which was made with the greatest care and under his supervision from a clay model of his own construction. This dome was to express what in the end is the truly architectural problem of space; it was to enclose quite naturally the space within which a congregation of believers might meet. His feeling for space, his ability to transfer his artistic idea into the same world in which we live, helped him to think out in this wonderful way the architectural mechanics of space.

In Michelangelo we have a spirit who helped human evolution on its way because he had a maturity of soul which enabled him to imprint on the world of space and matter significant facts from the spiritual world. He stood wholly in the great current of his times yet his own inmost quality was not fully understood. A friend once wrote to him that even the Pope feared him; and yet in his soul there lived all the greatness of Christian impulses which flowed into his work. While he felt himself at one with the great Christian impulses he yet lived at the dawn of a later epoch—closely though it was still connected with earlier ages. The content of older Christian impulses still affected his soul and out of that he created something which in its form and artistic method was already part of the ties in which we ourselves live. Hence comes the mood of the poem which he wrote—probably during his last days as he looked back over his life—and which makes it clear what our relation is to him, and how we should allow his influence over us to work:

Now hath my life across a stormy sea
like a frail barque reached that wide port where all
are hidden, ere the final reckoning fall
of good and evil for eternity.

Now know I well how that fond phantasy,
which made my soul the worshipper and thrall
of earthly art, is vain; how criminal
is that which all men seek unwillingly.

Those amorous thoughts which were so lightly dressed
what are they when the double death is nigh?
The one I know for sure, the other dread.

Painting nor sculpture now can lull to rest
my soul that turns to His great Love on high
Whose arms to clasp us on the cross were spread.

(Translation by J. Addington Symonds)

Michelangelo was a great poet also, and the poems of his which survive show the same spirit which we have found in his sculpture and painting. The last three lines of this sonnet make it clear that he could never be at ease in the world, and that was fundamentally true of him all his life. He was a sort of hybrid, still part of the old but already living within the new. This is particularly evident in that work which he carried out at the instigation of one of the Popes: the tombs of Giuliani and Lorenzo dei Medici. It is not merely that the chief figures show us Michelangelo as we have come to know him—one of the Medici musing, the other vigorous of will, both at each moment ready to carry out what Michelangelo has set within them. There is something else very significant in this chapel: the four allegorical figures, arranged two and two: Day and Night, Dawn and Twilight. I have often gazed at them; in fact they are one of the things which by a sort of spiritual compulsion I always look at longest when I have had the privilege of being in Florence. These figures are not mere allegories without force and without vitality. Use every means that Spiritual Science gives you to look at them and think about them; then if we remember that what anthroposophy calls the ego and the astral body leave the physical and etheric bodies at night, and if we ask ourselves what qualities and gesture of the etheric body we should select to represent plastically the truth which Spiritual Science tells us—how, that is, we should picture the physical body of the sleeping human being if we really feel him to be what Spiritual Science describes him as being—we know that he should be represented in the form which Michelangelo has given to “Night”. It is not just a symbol of night but the true spiritual reality of man as he really is in sleep which we have before us in this female figure. Thus Michelangelo, who knew so well how to set the figures in his works within the same space in which we ourselves stand, was also well aware what it means if the soul and spirit leaves man's physical body but leave it with life still within it. If we also study the other individual members of the human being and then look at the other figures in the tomb, we shall see how closely they run parallel with what I once called spiritual chemistry.

Michelangelo stands at the beginning of the age whose task it was to trace out the inner qualities, especially those that exist within Christianity, if we understand it more inwardly and in the present age see how the human soul is to be found within the human ego as Anthroposophy teaches, in close relation with the soul which moves and surges through the world. We shall be very much moved if we picture Michelangelo shut way by himself in the Medici Chapel, working in the night alone till he was physically exhausted, yet with the strength that enabled him to carry out for many years afterwards all those other great works of his in Rome; and if we also realise that the forces were already active in him which we in our turn seek through spiritual science. That is why we feel him to be so closely akin to us - most closely perhaps if we sink ourselves as deeply as possible into these four realistic figures; for in them he showed how the spiritual in man is as much part of our life and being as he had done in earlier years with the figures of his Moses and David, or with the colour and form of his paintings in the Sistine Chapel.

Spiritual Science is always closely in harmony with the highest striving and hopes of those spirits among humanity who are themselves closest to true spiritual being and working. That is supremely the case with Michelangelo. If we start from this standpoint and try to get as close to his soul as we can, we shall feel that a soul like his cannot help feeling that it enters only once into earthly evolution and cannot carry the fruits of its life over into the future of human evolution. This transition-point had to be passed before the doctrine of reincarnation could be revived, a doctrine which men of today are ripe enough to accept if only they are willing. So let us look, once more at Michelangelo and observe him carefully, and see how although he bears clearly within himself the marks of the age in which we are living, yet he could not master the process of the world's evolution to which he had himself contributed so much.

Now hath my life across a stormy sea
like a frail barque reached that wide port where all
are hidden, ere the final reckoning fall
of good and evil for eternity.

Now know I well how that fond phantasy,
which made my soul the worshipper and thrall
of earthly art, is vain; how criminal
is that which all men seek unwillingly.

Those amorous thoughts which were so lightly dressed
what are they when the double death is nigh?
The one I know for sure, the other dread.

Painting nor sculpture now can lull to rest
my soul that turns to His great Love on high
Whose arms to clasp us on the cross were spread.

And yet we have the assurance which anthroposophy gives us: that nothing can really be destroyed which has been so significantly granted to the development of humanity as happened through Michelangelo, but that the fruits of what has been granted will continue active in further lives of so unique an individual as he was, and that the earth can never lose what has once been imprinted upon it. Even if the present age does not understand the doctrine of repeated earth lives any more than his contemporaries understood Michelangelo's paintings in the Sistine Chapel; even if it thinks the doctrine ridiculous or fantastic, it is just the greatest spirits that teach us most vividly how the meaning of life is to be found when we observe repeated earth lives and transfer into ever new ages what has been experienced in older epochs of mankind. And if Goethe once said that Nature had invented death in order that she might have so much life, spiritual science should add that not only was it to have life but to have it ever more richly and abundantly. This is the only thought we may find worthy to be set side by side with the thoughts which arise naturally in us when we gaze on the works of an artist like Michelangelo.

• 1. See Rudolf Steiner, Christ in the Spiritual World: The Search for the Holy Grail and The Four Sacrifices of Christ.

This is lecture 3 of 14 in the lecture series entitled, Experiential Knowledge of the Supersensible. It is also lecture 3 of 5 included in the collection of lectures known as, Psychoanalysis in the Light of Anthroposophy, Psychoanalysis and Spiritual Psychology, or Freud, Jung, and Spiritual Psychology.

When public lectures are held for a larger public, certain things must be dealt with differently than at Group-meetings, because the members of a Group who have worked together and have studied these matters for some time, are prepared to accept such things differently than a larger public. Yesterday we saw that we can speak of hidden aspects of man's soul-life and we must place these hidden sides of human soul-life against the facts ascertained through ordinary, everyday consciousness.

If you were to observe superficially what lives in your soul, from the morning when you awake until the evening when you fall asleep—what lives in it in the form of ideas, feelings or moods, and impulses of the will-including of course all that enters the soul from outside through sense-perception—if you observe all this, then you will obtain all that can be termed as forming the contents of ordinary consciousness. We must now realise that everything which is thus contained in the life of our consciousness, is dependent as far as this ordinary consciousness is concerned upon the instruments of the physical body. The nearest and most obvious fact proving what has just been said, is that man must awake in order to live within the course of events, ascertained through an ordinary consciousness. This signifies that man must dive into the physical body with that part of his being which is outside the physical body during sleep, and that this physical body with its instruments is then at his disposal. He should be able to use these instruments in order to ascertain the happenings which are accessible to ordinary consciousness. The following question immediately arises:—How does man, as a spirit-soul being, use his bodily instruments—the sense-organs and the nervous system? How does he use his bodily organs in order to live within his everyday consciousness? In materialistic spheres it is held that the physical or bodily instruments constitute for man something which produces the facts of his consciousness. I have often pointed out that this is not the case; we should not imagine that the inner structure of our body, namely the sense-organs or the brain, produce the facts of consciousness, just as a candle, for instance, produces a flame. The relationship of what we call consciousness to the bodily instruments is entirely different; we may compare it with the relationship of a man who sees his reflection in a mirror, to this mirror. When we are asleep, we live within our consciousness as if we were walking, so to speak, in a straight line. If we are walking in a straight line, we do not see what our forehead, etc. looks like—but the very moment that someone holds a mirror in front of us, we can see ourselves. Then that which is already a part of us, comes toward us; it begins to exist for us. The same thing occurs in the case of the facts in our ordinary consciousness. They live in us continually, but in reality they have nothing to do with our physical body. Just as we ourselves have nothing to do with the mirror, so the facts in our consciousness have nothing to do with our physical body. The materialistic theory in this sphere is not even an acceptable hypothesis—it is sheer nonsense! For in this connection the materialist states something which may be compared to nothing less than this—namely, that someone who sees himself in a mirror, declares that he has been produced by the mirror. If you wish to delude yourself that the mirror has produced you, because you can only see yourself when a mirror is held before you, then you may also believe that various parts of the brain, or your sense-organs produce the contents of soul-life. Both things are equally clever and equally true. The truth, that a mirror can produce a man, has just the same value as the other truth, that a brain can produce thoughts. The facts that live in our consciousness have their own existence. It is necessary however that our ordinary organisation should perceive these existing facts of consciousness. To render this possible, we must be faced by something which reflects the facts of consciousness—namely, our physical body. Thus we possess in our physical body something which we may call a mirroring apparatus for the facts of our ordinary consciousness. These live in our spirit-soul being, and we perceive them because the mirror of our corporeality is held in front of what lives in us and is part of us, but cannot be perceived by us through the soul (just as we cannot see ourselves unless a mirror is held before us). This is the true aspect of things, But the body is not merely a passive mirroring apparatus—it is something in which processes take place. You may therefore imagine at the back of this mirror—instead of the dark coating which brings about the reflections—all kinds of happenings which take place there, behind the mirror. This comparison may be used to characterise the true relationship between our spirit-soul being and our body. Hence we must bear in mind that the body is a mirroring instrument for everything we experience within our normal, everyday consciousness and that moreover the physical body is a true mirror. Behind—or if you like—beneath these normal facts of consciousness, lie all those things which rise to the surface of our ordinary soul-life, which must be designated as the facts contained in the hidden depths of the soul.

Something of what lives in the hidden depths of the soul is experienced—let us say—by the poet, by the artist. If he is a real poet, a real artist, he will know that he does not attain what comes to expression in his poetry in the usual way—he does not attain it through logical thinking, or in the way in which we come to the facts of consciousness through outer perception. He knows that things arise out of unknown depths and are there, really exist, without having been formed by the forces of ordinary consciousness. But other things also arise out of these hidden depths of soul-life. These are things which play a part in normal consciousness, although we do not know anything about their origin, as far as ordinary life is concerned. But yesterday we saw that we can descend more deeply into soul-life—as far as the region of semi-consciousness, the region of dreams, and we know that dreams lift something out of the hidden depths of soul-life which we would be unable to lift up in the usual, normal way, through an effort of consciousness. If something, which has been buried in memory long ago, rises before a man's soul in the form of a dream-picture, as happens again and again—then, in most cases, this man would never have been in a position to lift these things out of the hidden depths of his soul-life by trying to recollect them—because ordinary consciousness does not reach as far as this. What can no longer be reached through normal consciousness, can however be reached through sub-consciousness. In this semi-conscious state during dreams, many things are brought to the surface which have remained behind, as it were—which have been stored. They surge up—but only those things surge up which could not become active, in the same way as other things become active, which dive down into hidden soul-depths, from out the experiences gained in life. We acquire health or we grow ill, we become bad-tempered or glad—but this takes place so that we do not notice it in the normal course of life, because it constitutes bodily conditions, determined by what has dived down into the soul out of our life-experiences—something which we cannot remember, but which is nevertheless active in the depths of soul-life, making us into what we then become during the course of life. We would understand many human lives if we were to know what has entered the hidden depths during the course of life. We would understand many a human being in his 30th, 40th, 50th year—we would know why he has this or that inclination, why he feels so deeply the cause of his dissatisfaction—we would understand many things if we were to trace the life of such a man back to his childhood. In his childhood, we would see how parents and surroundings influenced him; what was called forth during childhood in the form of sorrow and joy, pain and pleasure—things perhaps that are completely forgotten, but influence a man's entire state of health and of mind. For what surges and rolls down into the hidden depths of soul-life out of our consciousness, continues to be active there below. The strange part of it all is that these forces which are working there, first work upon ourselves and do not abandon—so to speak—the sphere of our personality. Hence, when clairvoyant consciousness descends to these depths (this occurs through imagination, through what we call imaginative knowledge), when it descends to the depths where these forces are active in sub-consciousness, as just described, then man always finds his own self. He finds what surges and lives within him. And this is a good thing. Indeed, in a true self-knowledge, man must learn to know himself; he must contemplate and learn to know all the impulses which are active within him.

If man does not pay attention to this fact, if he pays no attention to the fact that first of all he will find his own self with all that constitutes it and is active within it, he will be exposed to all kinds of errors when his clairvoyant consciousness penetrates into sub-consciousness through the exercises of an imaginative knowledge. Through a form of consciousness resembling the ordinary consciousness, man cannot be aware at all that he comes across his own self when he descends into the depths of soul-life. At a certain stage of development it will be possible to have visions—let us say—to see shapes which are unquestionably something new, when we compare them with what we have learnt to know through the experiences of life. Such a circumstance can indeed arise. But if we were to imagine that such things belong to the outer world, this would be a great illusion. These things do not arise in the same way in which the facts connected with our inner life generally arise in ordinary consciousness. If we have a headache, this is a fact which enters usual consciousness. We know that the pain is in our own head. If we have a stomach-ache, the pain is experienced within our own self. If we descend to the depths which we call the hidden soul-depths, we can only be within our own self—yet we can see things which appear to us as if they were outside our own selves. Let us take, for instance, a striking case. Let us suppose that someone desires most intensely to be the reincarnated Mary Magdalene, (I once mentioned that I have already met twenty-four reincarnated Magdalenes in my life); let us assume that someone desires most intensely to be Mary Magdalene. But let us also assume that this person does not confess this wish to himself (we need not confess our wishes to ourselves—this is unnecessary). Well—someone may read the story of Mary Magdalene and may like it immensely. In his sub-consciousness the desire to be Mary Magdalene may now immediately arise. He is aware of nothing in his usual consciousness except that he likes this character. The person in question has a liking for this character. He is aware of this in his upper consciousness. But in his sub-consciousness lives the burning desire to be himself this Mary Magdalene—yet he knows nothing about this. He does not bother about this. He is guided by the facts of his usual consciousness; he can go through the world without being compelled at all to become aware of this erroneous fact in his consciousness—the intense wish to be Mary Magdalene. But let us suppose that such a person has attained, in some way or other, a kind of occult training. This would enable him to descend into his sub-consciousness—but he would not become aware of the fact, “in me lives the desire to be Mary Magdalene”—he would not become aware of this in the same way that he becomes aware of a headache. If he were to notice this desire to be Mary Magdalene then he would be sensible and assume toward this desire the same attitude as toward a pain—namely, he would try to get rid of it. But through an irregular descent into sub-consciousness, this does not take place, because his desire acquires the form of something which is outside his own personality, and to the man in question it appears as the vision: “You are Mary Magdalene”. This fact stands before him, is projected outside his own being. Moreover, a human being at this stage of development is no longer able to control such a fact through his Ego. This lack of control cannot arise when we undergo a regular, sound and absolutely careful training; for then the Ego accompanies all experiences in every sphere. But as soon as the Ego no longer accompanies all our experiences, the fact described above can arise in the form of an objective outer happening. The observer believes that he can remember the events connected with Mary Magdalene and feels himself identified with this Mary Magdalene. This is unquestionably possible. I emphasize this possibility, because it shows you that only a careful training and the conscientiousness with which we penetrate into occultism, can rescue us from falling into error. If we know that we must first see before us an entire world, that we must see around us facts, not something which we apply to our own selves, but something that is in us, and yet appears like the picture of a whole world—if we know that we do well to consider what we first see before us is the projection of our own inner life—then we possess a good shield against the errors which can beset us along this path. The best thing of all is to consider at first everything that rises out of our inner being as if it were an exterior fact. In most cases these facts arise out of our desires, vanities, ambition—in a few words, out of all the qualities connected with human selfishness. These things above all project themselves outside and now we may ask:—How can we escape from such errors? How can we save ourselves from them?

It is not possible to save ourselves from error through the usual facts of consciousness. Error arises because we cannot, so to speak, come out of ourselves at the moment when we are being faced by a world picture; we remain entangled within ourselves. This will show you that the essential thing is to come out of ourselves, to distinguish in one way or another that here we have before us one kind of vision, and there another. Both visions are outside; one is perhaps merely the projection of a wish, and the other one is a real fact. Yet they do not differ as much as things differ in ordinary life—for instance, when one person states that he has a headache and we ourselves have a headache. For our own inner life, as well as that of another man, are both projected outside into space. How can we discriminate between them?

We must learn to investigate the occult sphere—we must learn to distinguish a true impression from a false one, although all impressions are mixed together and arise as if they were all equally entitled to be taken for true impressions. It is just as if we were to look into the physical world and were to see there, beside the actual trees, other imaginary trees, and as if we were unable to discriminate between them. The true facts outside and the facts which arise only within ourselves are mixed together, just as if false and true trees were standing side by side. How can we learn to distinguish one sphere from the other? We do not learn this at first through our consciousness. If we remain only within the life of thoughts we cannot possibly discriminate, for this possibility is given to us only through a slow occult training of the soul. If we progress more and more, we reach the point where we learn to distinguish one thing from another—that is, we do in the occult what we would have to do if we were to see actual trees beside imaginary ones. If we walk toward imaginary trees, we do not strike against them, but we do collide with real trees! Something similar also occurs—but as a spiritual fact, of course—in the occult sphere. If we proceed in the right way, we can learn to discriminate in a comparatively easy manner between what is true and false in this sphere; but we cannot do this through thoughts—only through a decision of the will. This decision of the will can arise as follows:—If we survey our life, we find in it two distinct groups of events. We often find that this or that thing in which we succeed or fail, is connected quite normally with our capacities. In other words—we can understand our failure in a certain direction because we are not particularly clever in that sphere. On the other hand, we can understand our success in this or in that direction because we know that we have certain capacities which account for it. Perhaps it may not always be so strictly necessary to realise this connection existing between our actions and our capacities. There is also a less clear way of realising it. For instance, when misfortune strikes someone at some later stage in life and he then thinks about this, he may say to himself:—“I have been a man who has done very little in order to become more active ... ” Or else he may admit to himself:—“I have always been such a happy-go-lucky fellow ... ” In both cases he will be able to say that he did not realise immediately the connection between his failure and his past actions, but he did realise that a light-hearted lazy man will not succeed in all things as well as a conscientious, diligent one. There are things where we can see quite well their connection with our successes or failures, but there are others where it seems impossible to find a connection—where we must say:—In spite of this or that capacity which should have guaranteed our success in this or in that direction, we have not succeeded. Evidently there are also certain kinds of successes or failures where we can not see at once the connection with our capacities. This is one aspect. The other one is that in the case of certain things which we encounter, such as blows of destiny, we may sometimes say:—“Well, this seems justified; for we ourselves have supplied the conditions for it.” But for other occurrences we find that they happen without our being able to discover anything which could be indicated as their cause. Thus we have two kinds of experiences—experiences which come from us, and where we can see the connection with our own capacities—and the other kind of experience which has just been described. In the case of some experiences which come to us from outside, we find happenings of which we cannot say that we ourselves have given rise to them, and again there are others of which we know that their foundation lies in us. Let us look about us in life and make an experiment which is very useful for every human being. This experiment can be made as follows. We place together all things the causes of which are unknown to us, and also all the things in which we have succeeded and of which we can say that they have happened in some unaccountable way—things for the success of which we are not responsible at all. But also failures which we can remember may be placed together in this way. Then we look upon outer events which have met us by chance, for which we cannot find any influence on our part. Now we may make the following soul-experiment. Let us imagine that we build up in thoughts an artificial man (bear in mind that first of all we make this grotesque soul-experiment)—we construct this artificial man; he is made in such a way that all the things in which we have succeeded in an unaccountable way are brought about through his capacities. Hence when we find that we have succeeded in something which requires wisdom, whereas we are stupid in this very thing, we build up an imaginary man who is particularly wise in this very sphere and who would therefore have met with success in it. We may also apply this experiment as follows in the case of an outer event. Let us assume that a brick falls on our head. At first we cannot realise the cause of this. Let us now construct an imaginary man who brought about the falling of this brick, as follows:—First of all he ran up on to the roof and pulled out a brick so that it would necessarily fall down soon afterwards. Then he quickly ran down again and the brick struck him. This is exactly what we do in certain happenings, although we know quite well in accordance with the usual course of events that we have not caused them; in fact these happenings may even be very much against our will. Let us suppose that someone has struck us at a certain time in our life. To facilitate matters, let us place this occurrence in our childhood; let us suppose that someone engaged to look after us, has beaten us. And let us imagine that we did all we could to deserve this beating. In short, we now construct an imaginary person in whom all those things are centred which are impenetrable to our understanding. You see, if we wish to progress in occultism, we must carry out several things which are in contrast to ordinary facts. But if we only do what appears to be sensible in the usual meaning of the word then we do not come much further in occultism, for the things connected with the higher world may at first seem foolish to an ordinary human being. But it does not matter if the method may appear foolish to a superficial sober-minded man. Let us therefore construct this imaginary human being. At first this may appear grotesque, and perhaps we do not realise its purpose. Yet we shall make a discovery within ourselves; everyone who makes this experiment will discover that it is impossible to get rid of this man whom we have built up in our thoughts—he will begin to interest us. Indeed, when we make this experiment, we will find that we cannot rid ourselves any more of this artificial man—he lives in us. Strange to say, he does not only live in us, but transforms himself within us; he changes greatly. He transforms himself so that in the end he differs entirely from what he was before. He becomes something, of which we cannot but say that after all it is contained in us. This is an experience which we all can have. What has now been described—not the imaginary human being which we have first constructed, but what has become of him—may be designated as a part of what is contained within ourselves. It is exactly that part which has, so to speak, brought about those things in life which apparently have no cause. Thus we find within ourselves something which really brings forth the things that cannot be explained otherwise. What I have described to you constitutes in other words a way enabling us not only to gaze into our own soul-life and to find something in it, but also to tread a path leading out of this soul-life into the surrounding world. For the things in which we fail do not remain in us, but become a part of the world around us. We have taken from it something which is not in keeping with the usual facts of our consciousness. But we have obtained something which appears as if it were contained within us. Then we feel as if we had after all some connections with the things that apparently arise with no real cause. Thus we begin to feel how we are connected with our destiny, with what is called karma. This soul-experiment is a true path, enabling us to experience karma in a certain way.

You may argue:—“I cannot quite understand what you say.” But when you say this, it is not because you think that you cannot understand; you say it because you fail to understand something which is in reality quite easy to understand—but you do not think about it. It is impossible to understand such things unless we have carried out the above mentioned experiment. Hence, these things can be looked upon merely as the description of an experiment which can be made and experienced by everybody. Through this experiment we can all realise that in us something lives which is connected with our karma. If we were to know this beforehand, it would not be necessary to be given directions showing us how to attain it. It is quite natural that this cannot be realised unless we have made the experiment. However, it is not a question of “understanding” things in the usual meaning of the word, but of accepting a communication concerning something which our soul can experience. If our soul treads such paths, it will grow accustomed to live not only within itself, within its wishes and passions, but it will grow accustomed to look upon exterior happenings and to connect them with its own self. Our soul will grow accustomed to this. The very things which we have not desired are those which we ourselves have brought into the occurrences. Finally, if we are able to face our whole destiny so that we accept it calmly, if in the case of things about which we generally grumble and protest, we think instead—“let us accept them gladly, for we ourselves are responsible for them”—if we are able to do this, then we develop a particular frame of mind. This frame of mind will enable us to distinguish the true from the false when we descend into the hidden depths of soul-life, to discriminate with absolute certainty; then what is true and what is false will appear with wonderful clearness and certainty.

If we look upon a vision with the spiritual eye and are able to dispel it simply through the fact that we dispel or conjure away all the forces which we experience as our inner being and which we learn to know anew in this form—if we can dispel them as it were through a mere glance—then this vision is nothing but a phantasm. But if we can not eliminate it in this way and are able to dispel only that part which reminds us of the outer sense world—that is the visionary part—if the spiritual element remains as an undeniable fact, then the vision is a true one. This distinction however cannot be made before we have accomplished what has already been described. Hence, on the super-sensible plane the true and the false cannot be distinguished with certainty unless we have undergone the above mentioned training. The essential fact during a soul-experience is that our usual consciousness is in reality always contained in what we desire, so that through this soul-experiment we become accustomed to consider as our own will what we do not wish at all as far as our ordinary consciousness is concerned—what usually goes against our will. In a certain connection we may have reached a definite stage of inner development; if however such a soul-experiment does not induce us to place this connection with what we have not wished, against the wishes, pensions, sympathies and antipathies living within our soul, then we shall make one mistake after another. The greatest mistake of this kind was made just in the Theosophical Society by H. P. Blavatsky. She observed the field where the Christ may be found, and because her wishes and desires—in a few words all that constituted her upper consciousness—contained antipathy, indeed hatred for everything Christian and Jewish, whereas she had a predilection for all that had spread over the earth as spiritual civilisation, excluding the Christian and the Hebrew, and because she had never passed through the training described today—she was faced by an entirely false idea of the Christ. This is quite natural. She handed this idea over to her more intimate disciples and it is still alive today, coarsened into a grotesque picture. These things reach into the highest spheres. We can see many things on the occult plane, but the capacity of distinguishing them is higher than merely seeing or perceiving them. This must be emphasized sharply.

Now the following problem arises: When we dive down into our hidden soul-depths (every clairvoyant must do this), we first reach our own self. We must learn to know ourselves by passing really and truly through that stage where we are at first faced by a world in which Lucifer and Ahriman continually promise us the kingdoms of the world. This signifies that we are placed before our own inner world and that the devil tells us—this is the objective world. This is the temptation which even the Christ could not escape. The illusions of the inner-world were placed before Him. But through His own strength He was able to see from the very beginning that this was not a real world, but something contained in man's inner world. Through this inner world, in which we must distinguish two parts—one which we can eliminate, namely, our true inner content, and another which remains—we reach the objective super-sensible world through the hidden depths of our soul-life. Just as our soul-spiritual kernel must use the mirror of the physical body in order to perceive the things outside, or what constitutes the facts of ordinary consciousness, so the human being must use his etheric body as a mirror, as far as his soul-spiritual kernel is concerned, in order to perceive the spiritual super-sensible facts which he at first encounters. The higher sense-organs, if we may use this expression, appear in the astral body, but what lives in them must be reflected through the etheric body, just as the soul-spiritual content which we perceive in ordinary life is reflected through the physical body. We must learn to use our etheric body. Since our etheric body is generally unknown to us, although it is that part which really gives us life—it is quite natural that we should first learn to know this etheric body before we learn to know what enters into us from the super-sensible world outside, and before this can be reflected through the etheric body.

You see, what we thus experience by reaching the hidden depths of our soul-life—when we experience, so to speak, our own self and the projection of our own wishes—this very much resembles the life which we usually call Kamaloca. It differs from Kamaloca-life through the fact that during our ordinary life we progress as far as an imprisonment (for we may call it thus) within our own self; yet our physical body is there and we can always return to it, whereas in Kamaloca the physical body no longer exists. Even a part of the etheric body no longer exists—that part which during life throws back to us a reflection; we are surrounded by the general life-ether which is now the reflecting instrument and mirrors everything that is contained in us. During the Kamaloca-period our own inner world is built up around us, with all its wishes and passions. All that we experience and feel within us, is now around us as our objective world. it is important that we should realise that Kamaloca-life can first of all be characterised through the fact that we are enclosed within ourselves and that this constitutes a prison; all the more so, as we cannot return to any form of physical life, which constitutes the foundation of our whole inner life. When we experience our Kamaloca-life so as to realise gradually (we gradually realise this) that everything contained in it can only be eliminated when we begin to feel in a different way, when we no longer have within us passions etc.—only then do we break through the walls of our Kamaloca-prison.

In what sense can this be understood? In this sense:—let us suppose that someone dies cherishing a certain wish. This wish will be part of what is then projected outside; it will be contained in one of the formations that surround him. As long as this wish still lives in him he will not be able to open the gates of Kamaloca with any key, as far as this wish is concerned. When he realises that this wish can be satisfied only by eliminating it, by giving it up, by not desiring any more—only when this wish has been torn out of the soul and he assumes toward it the very opposite attitude, only then everything that imprisons him in Kamaloca, including this wish, will be torn out of the soul. At this stage between death and a new birth we reach the sphere which is called Devachan: we can also reach it through clairvoyance if we have learned to know what forms a part of us. Through clairvoyance we reach Devachan, when we have obtained a definite degree of maturity; during Kamaloca we reach Devachan in the course of time, just because time torments us through our own desires, so that they are gradually surmounted in the course of time. Through this, all that is conjured up before us, as if it were the world and its glory, is burst asunder.

The world of real, super-sensible facts is what we generally call Devachan. How do we generally encounter this world of real, super-sensible facts? Here on the earth we can speak of Devachan only because we can penetrate through clairvoyance (if the Self has really been overcome) into the world of super-sensible facts which actually exist, and these facts coincide with what is contained in Devachan. The chief characteristic of Devachan is that moral facts can no longer be distinguished from physical facts, or physical laws; moral laws and physical laws coincide. What is meant by this? In the ordinary physical world the sun shines over the just and the unjust; one who has committed a crime may perhaps be put in prison, but the physical sun will not be darker because of this fact. This signifies that the world of sense-reality has both a moral order of laws and physical one; but they follow two entirely different directions. In Devachan it is otherwise—there, this difference does not exist at all. In Devachan everything that arises out of something moral, or intellectually wise, or esthetically beautiful, etc., leads to a creation, is creative—whereas everything that arises out of something immoral, intellectually untrue, or esthetically ugly, leads to destruction, is destructive. The laws of Nature in Devachan are indeed of such kind that the sun does not shine equally brightly over the just and the unjust. Speaking figuratively, we may say that the sun actually is darkened in the case of an unrighteous man, whereas the righteous man who passes through Devachan really finds in it the spiritual sunshine, that is, the influence of the life-spending forces which help him forward in life. A liar or an ugly-minded man will pass through Devachan in such a way that the spiritual forces withdraw from him. In Devachan an order of laws is possible, which is not possible here or earth. When two people, a righteous and an unrighteous one, walk side by side here on the earth, it is not possible for the sun to shine upon one and not to shine upon the other. But in the spiritual world the influence of the spiritual forces undoubtedly depends upon the quality of a human being. In Devachan this signifies that the laws of Nature and the spiritual laws do not follow separate directions, but the same direction. This is the essential thing which must be borne in mind—in Devachan the laws of Nature and the moral and intellectual laws coincide.

As a result of this, the following will arise:—When a human being enters Devachan and lives there, with all that is still contained in him from his last life on earth—righteousness and unrighteousness, good and evil, esthetic beauty and ugliness, truth and falsehood—all this becomes active in such a way that it immediately takes possession of the laws of Nature existing in Devachan. We may perhaps compare it to the following fact in the sense-world. Let us suppose that someone has stolen, or has told a lie here on earth and then goes out into the sunshine; but the sun no longer shines upon him, he cannot find sunshine anywhere, so that through the want of sunlight he gradually becomes ill ... Or let us suppose—this can also serve as a comparison,—that someone who has told a lie here on earth cannot breathe any more—all these cases would be similar to what actually happens in Devachan. One who is guilty of this or that sin, will find there, as far as his soul-spiritual being is concerned, that the laws of Nature coincide with the spiritual laws. Consequently, when this man continues to develop in Devachan as described above, and he progresses more and more, then such laws and qualities will live in him, that what he now becomes in Devachan, corresponds to the qualities which he has brought with him from his preceding life. Let us suppose that someone lives in Devachan for 200 years; he has peered through Devachan, and if he told many lies during his life on earth, then the Spirits of Truth will withdraw from him in Devachan. Something in him will then die, whereas in another truth-loving soul this will instead flourish and come to life.

Let us suppose that someone passes through Devachan with a pronounced vanity, which he has not set aside. In Devachan this vanity will be a most foul exhalation, and certain spiritual beings avoid such an individuality that exhales these foul odours of ambition or vanity. This is not described figuratively. Vanity and ambition are indeed most foul exhalations in Devachan, so that certain beings, who withdraw because of this, cannot exercise their beneficial influence. It is just as if a plant were to grow in a cellar, whereas it can flourish only in the sunshine. The vain person cannot prosper. He develops under the influence of this quality. Then, when he reincarnates, he has not the strength to take into himself the good influences. Instead of developing certain organs soundly, he develops an unsound organic system. Thus, not only our physical condition, but also our moral and intellectual condition, show us what we will become in life. On the physical plane, the laws of Nature and the spiritual laws go separate ways. But, between death and a new birth they are one—the laws of Nature and the spiritual laws are one. Destructive forces of Nature enter our soul, as the result of immoral deeds during a preceding life; but life-spending forces enter it, as the result of moral deeds. This is not only connected with our inner configuration, but also with what we encounter in life, as our karma.

The characteristic element of Devachan is that there is no difference between the laws of Nature and spiritual laws. The clairvoyant who really penetrates into the super-sensible worlds experiences this. The super-sensible worlds differ very much from the worlds here on the physical plane. It is simply impossible for a clairvoyant to make the distinction usually made by a materialistic mind, namely, that there are merely objective laws of Nature. Behind the objective laws of Nature there are in reality always spiritual laws; and a clairvoyant cannot, for instance, cross a dry piece of meadow land, or a flooded region, or perceive a volcanic eruption, without realising that spiritual powers, spiritual beings, are behind all phenomena in Nature. A volcanic eruption is for him also a moral deed, although the moral element may perhaps lie on an entirely different plane than we may, at first, imagine. Those who always confuse the physical and the higher worlds will say:—“If innocent people perish through a volcanic eruption, how can we suppose this to be a moral deed.” But at first, we need not consider this opinion; for it would be just as cruelly narrow-minded as the opposite one—namely, to consider this eruption as a punishment inflicted by God upon the people who live near the volcano. Both opinions are only the result of the narrow-minded mentality here on the physical plane. But this is not the point in question; far more universal things must be taken into consideration. Those people who live on the slopes of a volcano and whose possessions are destroyed through an eruption, are perhaps without any guilt in this life. But this will find its balance later on, and does not imply a merciless attitude on our part (to consider it as such would again be a narrow-minded interpretation of the facts). In the case of volcanic eruptions, for instance, we find that in the course of the evolution of the earth human beings cause to certain things; and because these things occur, the entire evolution of humanity is held up. For this very reason, good Gods must work in a certain way in order to establish the balance—and such phenomena in Nature sometimes bring about such a balance. Very often, this connection can be seen only by penetrating into occult depths. Thus, adjustments occur in the case of things brought about by human beings—things which are in opposition to the spiritual course of mankind's true development. All events, even if they are mere phenomena of Nature, have something moral in their depths, and the bearers of this moral element; which lie behind the physical facts, are spiritual beings. Thus, if we imagine a world where it is impossible to speak of a division between the laws of Nature and spiritual laws—in other words, a world where justice rules as a law of Nature—then this world would be Devachan. And in Devachan we need not think that actions which deserve punishment are punished arbitrarily; for there, the immoral element destroys itself and the moral one progresses, with the same necessity with which a flame sets fire to combustible material.

Thus, we see that just the innermost characteristics, the innermost nerve, so to speak, of existence, varies in the different worlds. We cannot form a picture of the various worlds unless we bear in mind these peculiarities which differ radically in each world. Hence, we may characterise the physical world, Kamaloca, and Devachan, as follows: in the physical world, the laws of Nature and the spiritual laws constitute a series of facts which take their course in separate directions. In the world of Kamaloca, the human being is imprisoned within his own self, enclosed in the prison of his own being. The world of Devachan is the very opposite of the physical world. There, the laws of Nature and the spiritual laws are one and the same thing. These are the three characteristics; and if we bear them carefully in mind, if we try to feel the radical difference between our world and one where the intellectual laws, and also the aesthetic laws, are at the same time laws of Nature, then we shall have an inkling of what is contained in Devachan. If we meet an ugly person, or a beautiful one, here in the physical world, we have no right to treat the ugly man as if he had something repulsive in his soul-spiritual being, nor can we place a beautiful human being on a certain height, from a soul-spiritual aspect. But in Devachan it is entirely different. There, we never meet anything ugly, unless it has been caused by something; and the human being who owes his ugly face to his preceding incarnation, but strives to be true and upright in this life, cannot possibly meet us in Devachan with an ugly face. Such a human being will indeed have transformed his ugly face into beauty. On the other hand, it is just as true that one who tells lies and is vain and miserly wanders about in Devachan with an ugly form. Something else, however, must also be borne in mind. In ordinary physical life we do not find that something is continually being destroyed in an ugly face, and that a beautiful face continually adds something to its beauty. But in Devachan we see that ugliness is a destructive element, and whenever we perceive something beautiful we are compelled to realise that it brings about a continual growth, a continual fructification. Hence, in the world of Devachan we must have entirely different feelings than in the physical world.

It will be necessary to find the essential element in these feelings, and to acquire the capacity of adding to the outer description of things these feelings and experiences which are described in spiritual science. If you strive to experience a world wherein the moral, the beautiful, and the mentally true elements appear with the same necessity as a law of Nature, you will attain the experience of Devachan. It is for this reason that we must collect so many facts and work so hard, in order to melt down to a living experience what we have thus acquired through study. Without effort it is impossible to attain a true knowledge of the things which must gradually be made clear to the world through spiritual science. Today there are undoubtedly many people who argue:—“Why should we learn so many things through spiritual science? Must we become schoolboys again? Feelings or experiences seem to be the most important thing in it.” Indeed, feeling is precisely what should be taken into consideration—but, first of all, the right kind of feeling must be acquired. The same thing applies to everything. A painter also would find it far more pleasant if there were no need for him to learn the elements of his art, and so forth, and if he were not obliged to paint his final picture slowly and gradually on the canvas. It would be far more pleasant if he could just breathe on the canvas, and so produce his finished picture! The peculiar thing in the world today is this—that, the more we reach the soul-spiritual sphere, the more people fail to understand that a mere breathing on the canvas does not suffice! In the case of music, few people will admit that a man who has learnt nothing at all can be a composer; this is quite obvious to them. They will also admit this in the case of painting—although less strictly than in the case of music—and in the case of poetry they will admit still less that study and training is necessary. This is why there are so many modern poets. No age has been so unpoetical as our present age, in spite of its many poets! Poets need not learn much—they are simply expected to write (although this has nothing to do with poetry)—at least orthographically; it suffices if they are able to express their thoughts intelligibly! And less still is expected from philosophers. For it is taken for granted that anyone may express his opinion concerning all kinds of things which belong to a conception of the world, or life-conception. Everybody has his own point of view. Again and again we find that careful study, entailing the application of all means available to an inner activity, in order to investigate and know at least something of the world, counts for nothing in the present day. Instead, it is taken for granted that the standpoint of one who has toiled and worked in order, to venture to say at least a few things concerning the secrets of the universe is equivalent to the standpoint of one who has simply made up his mind to have an opinion! Hence today everybody has, so to speak, his own conception of the world. And a Theosophist above all others! In the opinion of some people, still less is required to be a Theosophist. In their opinion, all that is needed is not even to acknowledge the three principles of the Theosophical Society, but only the first one—and this entirely according to their own liking! Since all that is required is to admit with more or less truthfulness that love toward others suffices—whether or not one is really filled with love does not count so much—it is easy enough to be a Theosophist, and then of course one has the right kind of feeling! Thus we descend continually. We begin with an estimation of music and expect a certain standard from those who wish to have an opinion on music—we descend continually and require less and less, until we finally reach Theosophy, where least of all is required! For we think that what is generally considered inadequate in the case of painting, for instance, is sufficient in the case of Theosophy—no effort is needed here, yet we lay the foundation for a universal brotherhood, and then we are Theosophists! We need not learn anything else! But the essential point is this—we must strive with all our might to transform into living experiences what we gather in the form of study—for the shadings of these feelings will give us the highest and truest knowledge. You should direct all your efforts toward the attainment of an experience such as the impression derived from a world where the laws of Nature and the spiritual laws coincide. If you work in full earnestness (let the people believe that you have only studied theoretical facts!), if you have spared no effort in comprehending this or that theory, then an impression will be left behind in Devachan. If an experience, a real feeling, exists not only in your fancy, but you have really acquired it through careful work, then this experience, these nuances of feeling, will reach further than they can reach merely by themselves—they will become real through earnest, diligent study. And then you are not far distant from the point where this nuance of feeling will acquire life, and Devachan will really lie before you. For this nuance of feeling becomes a perceptive capacity if it is worked out truthfully. Our groups, our working centres, are what they should be, only if the work within them is really carried out without any sensation and on an honest basis. In this case our groups and centres are schools which are meant to lead man into the spheres of clairvoyance. Only someone who does not wish to attain this and is unwilling to work can have a false opinion concerning these things.

In connection with some spiritual-scientific considerations, I have often said that it concerns within our spiritual-scientific movement and its efforts of taking up those concepts and ideas not only in theory which one can learn by spiritual science, but that the spiritual-scientific results have to penetrate the innermost movements, the innermost impulses of our soul life. Indeed, we have to start from the results of the spiritual-scientific knowledge, and we can gain such knowledge if we just study it if we occupy ourselves with it. But spiritual science is not to be taken up like another science, so that one knows only afterwards that one has heard this or that, that this or that is true concerning one or another matter in the world. Spiritual science has to work on our souls so that the souls become different in this or that field of feeling that they become different taking up what can flow out of spiritual science. The concepts, ideas and mental pictures which we take up by means of spiritual science have to rouse our souls in the core, have to unite with our feelings, so that we learn through spiritual science to look at the world not only differently, but also to feel differently than without it. The spiritual scientist, actually, has to familiarise himself with certain circumstances quite differently than this is possible without spiritual science. If he is able to do this, he has basically only arrived at what has to flow to us from spiritual science.

We live in a grievous time today, in which to us one of the most important questions of spiritual science, the question of death, appears in so countless cases before our eyes, before our souls, before our hearts, closer to one, closest to the other. The spiritual scientist has also to be able to prove spiritual science in his feelings in this grievous time. He should be able to have a different attitude to the events of time than the others, even if these events touch him so near. Indeed, the one needs consolation, the other needs encouragement; but both should find this also in spiritual science. If this can be the case, we have only correctly understood the intentions of spiritual science.

We have thereby to experience a certain shock in our souls through the ideas of spiritual science already that we learn to feel quite differently about some matters than we can feel without spiritual science about anything in the world. If you summarise all that which has already been said about the mystery of death within our spiritual science, you can understand what I would also like to explain today not only repeating, but something adding to former considerations. We must learn to think about death not only differently, but we must learn to feel about death differently. Since, indeed, the mystery of death is connected with the deepest world mysteries. We should be quite clear to ourselves that we take off all that through which we get perception and knowledge in the physical world, through which we experience something of the external world when we go through the gate of death. We get impressions about the world in the physical world by means of our senses. We take off these senses when we enter the spiritual world. Then we do not have the senses any more. This must already be a proof to us that we must try if we think about the supersensible world to think differently than we have learnt to think by means of our senses.

Indeed, we have a clue of sorts, while also in the everyday life, which we spend between birth and death, something analogous, something similar of the experiences in the spiritual world projects. These are the dream experiences projecting into the everyday life. The dream experience does not come into being to us through our senses; our senses have really nothing to do with the dream experience. Nevertheless, it is in the pictures that sometimes remind of the sensory life. We have in these dream pictures, even if a weak reflection, just a reflection of that type, as the spiritual existence faces us as an Imaginative world between death and a new birth. We have Imaginative perception, however, after death; the experience appears in pictures. Only if you see, for example, a red colour in the sensory world and must have the thought: what is behind this red colour?—Then you will say to yourselves: there is something that fulfils the space, something material is behind it.—The red colour also appears to you in the spiritual world, but there is nothing material behind it, nothing that would exercise a material impression in the usual sense. Behind the red is a psycho-spiritual being; behind the red is the same which you feel as your world in your soul. One would like to say: from the sense-impression of the colour we descend externally in the physical down to the material world, from the Imaginations we ascend to spiritual regions of the spiritual world.

Now we must be aware—this has been emphasised strongly in the new edition of my Theosophy—that also these Imaginations do not appear to us like the sensory impressions of the physical world. They are there indeed, these Imaginations, but they appear as experiences: the red, the blue colours are there experiences. One can rightly call these Imaginations red or blue, but they are something different than the sensory impressions of the physical world. They are more intimate; we unite more intimately with them. Without the red colour of the rose you are yourself; within the red colour of the spiritual world you feel to be therein, you are united with the red colour. While you perceive a red colour in the spiritual world, a will, a very effective will of a spiritual being develops. This will shines, and that which it shines is red. But you feel to be in the will, and you call this experience red, of course. I would like to say that a physical colour is like the frozen spiritual experience. Thus we must get the possibility in many fields to think something different, to give our ideas other values and meanings if we really want to rise to an understanding of the spiritual world.

Then we have to realise that above in the spiritual world the Imaginations do not have the same relationship to the spiritual beings—whose expression, for example, the colours are—as a colour has to a sensory being. The rose is red; this is a quality of the rose. But if a spirit comes to the nearness and we must have the consciousness according to that which I have now said: the spirit shines red, and then the red does not mean a quality of the spirit like the red of the rose is a quality. This red colour is more something like a revelation of the inside of the spiritual being; it is more a character which the spiritual being puts in the spiritual world. You have only to behold through the Imaginations. The activity which you develop there is to be compared in the physical world only with its ahrimanic image, namely with reading. We look at the red colour of the rose and know: it is a quality of the rose. We do not only look at the red colour in the spiritual world, but we interpret it, but not fantasising—I must warn about it always again. However, our soul itself already finds that something is given like a sound, a letter, like something that should be deciphered, should be read, so that it recognises the meaning.

The spiritual being means something if he manifests himself as a C sharp or G sharp or as red or blue or green colours. The spiritual being means something with it; one starts speaking with him, one starts reading his writing. The external culture is based on it that such matters which have their deep wisdom in the spiritual world are transplanted then also to the external world. We speak rightly of an occult reading, because somebody who attains the clairvoyant consciousness, who enters the spiritual world, who is able to see out over the Imaginations and reads in them, looks through them at the bottom of the souls living in the spiritual world, not only through colours, but also through other impressions, such impressions which remind of sensory impressions, and those which are added in the spiritual worlds.

This activity which is a purely psycho-spiritual activity is subordinate, as it were, to the government of the really progressive spiritual beings. Here in the physical world, Ahriman creates a reflection just of that which I have characterised now. The external reading of characters in the physical world is an ahrimanic reflection of this occult reading. Since reading in the physical world by signs which were developed artificially is an ahrimanic activity. Not without good reason, the invention of the art of printing was felt as an ahrimanic art, as a “black art,” as one called it. You are just not allowed to believe that you could escape the claws of Lucifer and Ahriman using any performances. Lucifer and Ahriman must be in the external culture. It is only that you find the balance, the way if life turns perpetually to the luciferic or the ahrimanic side. If anybody did not want to be touched at all by Ahriman, never would he have to learn reading. But this is why it concerns not that we flee Ahriman and Lucifer, but that we get the right relationship to them, that we position ourselves correctly to them, although they are as forces round us. If we know that we follow what we have described so often as the Christ Impulse which lives in us, and if we get the spiritual sensations which impose the intention to follow Christ to us at every moment of our life, then we are also able to read. Then we can get to know—and we already shall do it if it is right according to our karma—that Ahriman also established reading, and we see this ahrimanic art in the right light. If we do not experience this, we declaim something about the ahrimanic culture, about the progress and the splendour of the ahrimanic culture, for example, about reading.

But all these matters also impose duties, and this is why it concerns that such duties are also kept. Just in our present time, a lot can be stated to defend or accuse this or that. Really, we have what we can call a flood of war literature. Every day produces not only brochures, but also books et cetera. There you can often read: this country has so and so many illiterates, in this country so and so many people can read and write, and the like. Adopting this easily would not be according to what somebody who is well-versed in spiritual science has to say out of his responsibility. If I wanted to indicate, for example, that which I have to state with regard to our time, all the especially bad of a nation and say that in this nation are so and so many people who cannot read and write, I would not correctly speak spiritual-scientifically. There only matters must be stated for which one can take responsibility to the occult duties.

You see—I wanted to give only an example—that spiritual science must go over into life and imposes duties in this deeper sense. If the spiritual scientist says such things which the others also say, you are always able to notice that they are said in a different context, and it depends on this. Hence, something appears rather strange to somebody who does not know spiritual science, if it is said in spiritual science, because he is accustomed to have other ideas and must say to himself sometimes: this spiritual science calls the black white, and the white black.—This is necessary sometimes, because if one ascends to the spiritual world with the usual ideas and concepts which one learns in the physical world, some ideas and concepts must be changed thoroughly.

From this point of view let us take one of the most important, most enigmatic concepts which we have to acquire out of the impressions of the physical world, the concept of death. In the physical world, the human being sees death always only from one side, from the side that he sees developing the human life up to the point where the human being dies. That is where the physical body is separated at first from the higher members of the human nature and is dissolved then within the physical world. One can really say what the human being sees as death within the physical world: looking at death from one side. However, looking at death from the other side means to look at it in an opposite light, to see it as something totally different.

When we enter the physical life by birth, we experience something at first in such a way that the peak of our physical consciousness is not yet reached. You know that we do not remember the first years of our experience with the usual physical consciousness. Nobody can remember his birth with the usual physical consciousness. At least no one will appear in the world who states that he can remember with his usual consciousness how he was born. We can say: this is a characteristic of the physical consciousness that the birth of the human being must be forgotten. It is forgotten; also the first years are forgotten. If we look back at our life between birth and death, we remember up to a certain point. Then memory ends. The point where it stops is not our physical birth, but an experience precedes. Nobody can know from experience that he is born. He can only conclude it. We conclude that we are born—and only from that—that after us human beings are born whose birth we perceive. If the naturalist states that he only admits what can be seen, nobody could claim his birth after this principle if he wants to be logical, because it is impossible to perceive his own birth without being clairvoyant; one can only conclude it.

Now exactly the opposite takes place with regard to death. The whole life through between death and new birth the moment of death which he experienced stands before the soul eye of the dead as the liveliest, as the brightest impression. However, do not believe that you are allowed to possibly conclude from it that this would be a painful impression. Then you would believe that the dead looks back at what you see in the physical world of death, of decay, of decline. He sees death, however, from the other side; he sees something in death what one must call the most beautiful also in the spiritual world. Since the human being can experience nothing more beautiful than the sight of death in the spiritual world first of all. Seeing this victory of the spirit over the material, this lighting up of the spiritual light of the soul from the deep darkness of the material is the greatest, the most significant that can be beheld on the other side of life which the human being goes through between death and a new birth.

If the human being takes off the etheric body between death and new birth and has fully developed his consciousness what happens not very long time after death, then he has not the same relationship to himself as here in the physical world. If the human being sleeps here in the physical world, he is unaware, and if he is awake, he realises that he knows now: I have a self, an ego in myself. After death in the spiritual world, this is something different—there is his self-consciousness on a higher level,—then it is not just the same. I will immediately speak about that. But there is also something like a self-contemplation. Exactly the same way as one must call to mind the self in the morning while waking up it is in the spiritual world. But this self-contemplation is a looking back at the moment of death. Always it is in such a way, as if we say to ourselves to perceive our ego between death and a new birth: you have really died, so you are a self, you are an ego.

This is the most important thing: one looks back at the victory of the spirit over the body, one looks back at the moment of death which is the most beautiful of the spiritual world that can be experienced. In this looking back one notices his self in the spiritual world. This is always, one cannot say like waking up—one would stamp the concepts one-sidedly,—it is the self-contemplation to look back at his death. That is why it is so important that the human being has the possibility to look really back at the moment of death with full postmortal consciousness—with a consciousness which enters after death. So he dreams not only in any way what he beholds there but can completely understand what he beholds; this is extremely important. We can already prepare ourselves during life while we try to practice self-knowledge. In particular, this is necessary for humankind from now on to practice self-knowledge. Basically all spiritual science is there to give that self-knowledge to the human being which is necessary to him. For spiritual science is an introduction to the enlarged self of the human being, that self by which one belongs to the whole world. I said that the consciousness after death is something different than here in the physical world. If I might to plot the consciousness after death diagrammatically to you, I could do it in the following way.

(sehendes Auge = seeing eye, sinnlicher Körper = material object, geistige Wesenheit = spiritual being)

Imagine we would have an eye here, and here we would have an object. How do we attain the consciousness that there is an object outside us? Because the object makes an impression on our eye. The object makes an impression on our eye, and we learn to know something about the object. The object is outside in the world, it makes an impression on our senses, and we take up the mental picture, which we can form of the object, in ourselves, in our souls. The object is outside us. Then it has delivered the mental picture which we form then. It is different now in the spiritual world. Because I cannot draw it graphically differently, I would want what I always call soul eye to draw as a soul eye, although it is wrong strictly considered. Now this soul eye which the human being has after death has the disposition that after death the human being sees, for example, an angel or another human soul who is also in the spiritual world not as he sees a flower in the physical world, but this soul eye has the disposition—we disregard a human soul at first, we look only at a being of the higher hierarchy—that it does not have as an eye the consciousness if here an angel, an archangel is: I see this angelic being outside myself,—but: I am seen by the angelic being, he sees me.—It is just the opposite of the physical world. We familiarise in the spiritual world so that we get the consciousness of the beings of the higher hierarchies that we are known by them that they think us. We feel embedded in them, we feel that we are conceived by the angels, archangels, spirits of personality like the realms of minerals, plants, and animals feel to be conceived by us.

Only concerning human souls we have the feeling that they see us as we also have the feeling that our view goes into them. We see them and the human souls see us. As to all the other beings of the higher hierarchies, we have the feeling that we are perceived by them, are thought, imagined by them; and while we are perceived by them, are thought, are imagined by them, we are in the spiritual world. Now imagine that we walk around as souls in the spiritual world, like we walk around in the physical world. We then have the feeling everywhere to get a relationship to the beings of the higher hierarchies, like we have the feeling here in the physical world to get a relationship to the mineral, plant, and animal realms. Only we need the meditation repeatedly that we have a self. Then we look at our death and say to us: this is you.—This is a continual consciousness, continual contents of our conscioussnes.

What I have said today is to be added to the various ideas which you can take up from talks and books. It is spoken more emotionally than that which is spoken, for example, in the book Theosophy more from an external point of view. But only while you look at such a matter emotionally, you can feel as if you are in the sensations which one must have towards these matters and generally towards the spiritual world.

Hence, self-knowledge is that which supports us which makes us strong for the life between death and a new birth. That could face me recently again with particular liveliness when I had the task to speak several times at the cremation, after some of our friends had deceased. There it was necessary to speak about something that is connected intimately with the character, with the self of that who had gone through the gate of death. Why did this Inspirative or Intuitive come into being to speak something to the dead that is connected with their beings? This appears in the life of the persons concerned after death. It comes to their assistance what invigorates the forces of their self-knowledge. While speaking about these qualities, which they feel in themselves, immediately after death when their consciousness had not yet awoken, one let flow, as it were, something of the strength towards them that they need to gradually develop the ability to look at the moment of death. Their whole being seems to be concentrated there, as it has developed between birth and death. One helps the dead if one lets flow something towards them just after death that reminds them of their qualities, of their experiences et cetera. One thereby fosters the strength of self-knowledge. If anybody has the possibility as clairvoyant to familiarise himself with the soul of such a dead person, then he feels the desire in his soul to hear something just in this time about the kind, as he was, about this and that which he has gone through or which his main qualities are. You can understand that here on earth the life of a human being does not resemble the life of the other, but that all human beings have lives which are different from each other. It is the same with those who have gone through the gate of death. Not one soul-life resembles the other between death and new birth. I would like to say: every soul-life which one can observe there is a new revelation, and one can always emphasise individual particular qualities only. I would like to speak about such matters today and then also in Cologne the day after tomorrow. I would like to speak of a concrete case as an example.

In Dornach before some time, we saw a member leaving the physical plane who was rather old-aged (Lina Grosheintz-Rohrer). A member who had spent her life, in any case, in industrious work, caring work, but during the last years, since longer time already, she was connected in the deepest soul with our spiritual-scientific world view and had completely developed it in her heart, in her soul. So that one may say: this personality had come so far that in the last times of her physical existence she was completely one in her feeling with our world view. Now you know that the human being if he/she goes through the gate of death takes off his physical body first, carries the etheric body in himself still for a while and then takes off the etheric body, too. There comes a time when the human being must only gain the consciousness gradually which he has to possess between death and a new birth. Immediately after death, the human being is in his etheric body. There he experiences, we know this, a complete review of his life as a big life tableau. In this time, particularly the powerful impulses also appear in his soul, I would like to say, all at once, so that something that is important just in this regard can appear after death that is completely different than during life.

During life the human being is often tied up by the restrictions which his physical body places on him. Immediately after death, the human being has overcome what burdens, presses, solidifies him, and also the physical that weakens the clearness of some soul impulses. One has not yet lost the etheric body and, hence, the memory of life. It is an Imaginative world which contains the pictures of the past life, and also contains the especially strong impulses. If now a soul has taken up the impulses of spiritual science during life so intensely, if this soul has brought these impulses up to the innermost feeling in herself, she can develop these impressions after death also in another way, because she has the elastic, malleable etheric body at her disposal, then she is no longer tied up to that which the physical body allows.

One could see this with that personality in particular about which I have just spoken who shortly after death let flow out of her soul what had lived from the spiritual-scientific impulses in her, after I had just succeeded in transporting myself completely into this soul. Of course, it would not have stamped this in such words during her physical life. Because the etheric body was still there, she could dress it in physical words. It was not yet out of her elastic etheric body, when she developed what she had taken up from spiritual science, so that it became the expression of her soul. Then I had the necessity at the cremation of the concerning personality a few days later that I had to speak these words, which sounded from her being, which belonged to her, not to me:

Into cosmic distances I will carry
My feeling heart, so that it grows warm
In the fire of the holy forces' working;

Into cosmic thoughts I will weave
My own thinking, so that it grows clear
In the light of eternal life-becoming;

Into depths of soul I will sink
Devoted contemplation, so that it grows strong
For the true goals of human activity;

In the peace of God I strive thus
Amidst life's battles and cares
To prepare myself for the higher Self;

Aspiring to work in joy-filled peace,
Sensing cosmic being in my own being,
I seek to fulfill my human duty;

May I live in anticipation,
Oriented toward my soul's star
Which gives me my place in spirit realms.

I would like to say that these are the words expressing the sensation after death what the soul has become through spiritual science. Then came the time which everybody has to go through after death more or less which one improperly calls the time of sleeping. Because if you have taken off the etheric body, you are actually in the spiritual world, only the fullness of the spiritual world is dazzling you. You cannot have an overview of everything, you have only to adapt your strength which you have brought into the spiritual world; you have to belittle yourself. You see too much after death; the consciousness is there, you have to reduce it to the level of the forces which you have acquired. Then you can orientate yourself and live really in the spiritual world. It is spoken not quite properly if anybody says that one becomes conscious after some time, but one has to say that somebody has too much consciousness and has to reduce it to the levels which he can endure. This means waking up. That is why the soul of which I have just spoken to you reached this condition—when the etheric body is taken off—that she was unable to endure the spirit light. But she had a lot of strength in herself. You notice that in the words which I have read, and that this strength had been completely filled bit by bit with that which spiritual science can make of the human feeling and willing. That is why this being, this soul got a consciousness which was tolerable to her some time after death. Of course, one would have to describe a lot of the time which begins then for a soul when one wanted to describe everything that such a soul experiences there. One only describes parts always; and while we are within our movement, it belongs, of course, to the most significant matters you can observe in the souls what connects these souls with our movement. You can learn what generally human souls connects with the whole world after death; but you can observe best of all in such souls what is the life of the soul after death, particularly when it has approached you like this soul of whom I speak now. Therefore I could observe just with this soul how she got the orientating consciousness while taking part in our meetings, really taking part in our meetings. And she completely took part in a Dornach Easter festival of this year, in that Easter festival when I tried to explain the particular depth of the Easter thought to our dear friends there in Dornach. This soul was present there. She took part as she had taken part once with intimate warmth; she took part now as a soul. She wanted to express herself like somebody has the need in the physical body to express himself afterwards about that which he has taken up. She wanted to express herself, and the peculiar is that she stamped such words, because thereby the possibility exists to communicate, that she formed such words describing her present life and its experience of this Easter lecture. The soul added something like a supplement of that which had come from her at that time after death. This supplement which came out of the consciousness is the following:

I will steer in human souls
Spirit feeling, so that willingly
It wakes in hearts the word of sacrifice;

I will think with human spirits
Soul warmth, so that powerfully
It can feel the Risen One;

I had taken care just in those Easter talks and in some other talks, which I held at that time, to draw attention—as I did it repeatedly—to the significance of spiritual science not only here for the life on earth, but for the whole world. Somebody who goes through the gate of death can also experience and get to know what is done here in spiritual science. That is why I advise so many people if they have dear dead to read out to them or to tell about the spiritual-scientific teachings, because what is stamped in spiritual-scientific words has not only significance for the souls living in physical bodies, but it has full significance also for the souls who are disembodied. It is to them like spiritual air of life, like spiritual water of life, or one could also say, they perceive light by us here below. This light is for us symbolic at first, one would like to say, because we hear words and take up them as thoughts in our souls; the dead see it, however, really as a spiritual light.

Now it is very significant that just this soul who has often heard this wanted to say really: I have understood this, and it is real that way.—Since her words in this regard are:

The earthly flame of spiritual knowledge
Brightly illuminates death's appearance;

This is the fact for the soul. She wants to say: what you speak there below shines like a flame.—She expressed this, while she said “earthly flame:” it “brightly illuminates death's appearance ...” Why does she say “death's appearance?” If you meditate, you find out it. She said it, because she had always heard that we call the world maya: on earth she is in the appearance of the senses; now she is also in an appearance by which she only has to behold the being:

The earthly flame of spiritual knowledge

Brightly illuminates death's appearance;—

And something that she also confirms now:

The Self becomes cosmic eye and ear.

She means cosmic ear. She means that now the whole self becomes a powerful sense-organ, becomes the perception organ for the whole universe. It is a nice way by which the dead shows how she becomes conscious that that becomes true which spiritual science says. For this soul it is typical that she wants to express herself straight away after death and wants to say: yes, now I am so far that that which I have learnt on earth appears to me as the right thing.

These words were to me of a certain importance, because they came after some time, maybe a few weeks later, from the spiritual world from that soul of which I have spoken, after shortly before, a few weeks before, another event satisfying me took place.

Friends of our movement lost a rather young son in the current war who had volunteered for the army. The young man fell. He had half approached spiritual science; one would like to say, in his last earth time which he went through. He was only seventeen, eighteen years old. Now he had gone, he had fallen. After some time I could behold the soul of this young man really approaching his parents. With many souls who have now gone through the gate of death during the war this is the case that they become conscious rather rapidly. It was thus—I could really hear it,—as if he said to them: now I would like to make it comprehensible to you that that which I have often heard of spiritual science, of spiritual light and spiritual beings in your home can become clear to me that it is true that it helps me what I heard there.

I do not mention this, because it is something special, but because it just shows how the relationship is between the earthly life and the spiritual life. Nevertheless, I want to mention something strange besides. At that time after a lecture which I held in one of our branches—I had written down the words which had come through to me, I went to the parents of the young man and told this to them and also gave the night in which the young man approached his parents and spoke as it were to their souls. There said the father: this is quite strange, I dream very seldom. However, I dreamt this night, this same night of my son that he appeared to me and that he wanted to say something to me; however, I have not understood it.

It touches those people strangely even today who are outside our spiritual movement if these matters are explained to them. Hence, we keep them among us. But it must be important to us to deal specifically also with these matters, because our knowledge is composed of these single stones of the experiences of the spiritual world. We only get a concrete picture if we do not want to limit ourselves only to hear nice theories of the spiritual world but if we can enliven spiritual science in our souls, so that we endure that which one speaks of the spiritual world really, like reasonable human beings just speak of that which they experience in the sensory world. Spiritual science thereby becomes life in the right sense in us, and it should become life in us, that we gain a life by it—not only a teaching, a knowledge. It should bridge the abyss which results from materialism which extends outside spiritual science and must become bigger and bigger. It bridges this abyss between the physical-sensory realm, which we go through between birth and death, and the spiritual realm in which we live between death and a new birth, so that we gradually learn to become citizens also of the spiritual world. What matters is that we learn to feel: somebody who has gone through the gate of death has only taken on another condition of life and has an attitude towards our feeling after death like somebody who just had to move because of the events of life to a distant country in which we can follow him only later. So we have to endure nothing but a time of separation. But this must be felt vividly by means of spiritual science. If you risk forming an idea about single concrete facts, you will already see that these facts also correspond to it and support each other for somebody who does not look into the spiritual world. That is why the confidence, which one has, before one beholds in the spiritual world, is actually no blind confidence, no trust in authority, but a confidence which is supported by the feeling which is deeper than critical knowledge, by the original feeling of truth indigenous to the human soul.

We live in a time in which the external destiny-burdened events make it clear that the human life has to be deepened. It would be much better if the human beings looked at these military events as a warning to deepen the souls more than the predominating majority of the human beings do. They discuss instead who has the war guilt, who does this or that. I said, while I discussed the most important matters before you: concerning some matters we must learn by spiritual science to change our ideas, our concepts. We can count the concept of war to these concepts—today this may be still added to our consideration about such a significant object like death.

One will be right, also from the spiritual-scientific point of view, to consider the war as an illness of development. Indeed, it is an illness, but you remember only once that you also do not do justice to an illness if you condemn it. What matters in illness is often that which has preceded the illness in the human body: the disorder, the disharmony has preceded. Then the illness comes into being which often is there to work just against the disorder in the body. Even if the human being goes through an illness before death, it is this way. He carries disharmonies in himself which make it impossible for him to enter the spiritual world. Perhaps, the spiritual world would be obscured to him too long, or other obstacles would be there, because disharmonies are in him which cannot just be brought into the spiritual world. This is why an illness infects him before death. It frees his soul from disharmony so far that he can enter the spiritual world.

If it is an illness which leads to recovery, then this illness is there to compensate that which has preceded the illness which was caused by the karma of previous lives, maybe of thousands of years. One would not do well to say at all: the child has the measles; had it not got these measles.—One cannot know what would have come about the child if it had not got the measles. Because that came out which sat deeply always in the child and looked for its compensation.

It is also good to consider the war, and to see the evil not so much in that which must be experienced now in blood and iron but also to look at that which happened since long, long times in the cultural currents. The human beings must learn to look deeper at the connections. After this war, a time will come when the human beings start thinking about this war. There they will get on how many hollow words were talked if one said: this one has the guilt, that one has the guilt.—Something will just happen, even if it takes place only long after the war. Then the people will say something different than today. There will be people who say: if one studies history the way as one studied it up to now, indeed, one finds in these acts of the diplomats this, in those acts of diplomats that; here and there or this and that was written.

But if one proceeds that way as history treated all that up to now, and wants “to objectively judge” everything, as one says, then one never finds out why this war came into being. Then one will discover that it is necessary to look at the deeper reasons beyond the external causes which then spiritual science has to explain. Unfortunately, I can make only remarks about these matters. One will find that at various places just at the outbreak of this war this or that happened where not the consciousness played the most significant role, but something unconscious, something under the threshold of the external events was a contributory factor; so that those matters are not exhausted at all which the historian is accustomed to consider as something decisive for the causality. Just with this example one learns: history, as we are accustomed to it up to now, explains nothing at all to us. It is an admonition to go into deeper reasons.

As I had to admonish our souls at the end of almost each talk which I held in the last time, I would like to do it also again today.

A certain responsibility arises for you simply from the fact that you have approached the spiritual-scientific world view. You must become able to have the thoughts by the spiritual-scientific world view at least that those superficial judgments which are delivered everywhere today, because materialism controls the world, should also not become judgments of ours who we are supporters of spiritual science. What plays a role in the world today is a superficial hatred from nation to nation. I have often spoken about that in our branch talks. It must not penetrate us to the same degree, but we also must not become unfair. For we can learn from the old Theosophical Society to become rather unfair. They have impressed on their supporters with regard to the religions: all religions are equal.

This is approximately the same, as if one liked to impress on the human beings: on the table are pepper, salt, sugar, paprika; now, they all can be used as spices, one should not prefer anything. So, here I have a cup of coffee, I put some pepper into it, because everything is the same. The identical logic is in it if one speaks of the fact that the same core of truth forms the basis of all religions. This logic saves one from studying the great miraculous world development in its details, because one gets by with the sentence: a core of truth forms the basis of everything. But we have freed ourselves from the most superficial judgments since long. Thus that cannot prevent us from recognising rightly to go into any national characteristic with affectionate understanding, where we have to stand with our hearts out of knowledge. It is not possible that all friends agree in this regard. That does not matter, but that our souls try to get over the point of view of the external world and to deal with the characteristics of the different folk-souls.—Then we will already see that the belief in our spiritual-scientific world view imposes a certain responsibility to us in many respects, the responsibility to deal with the matters as thoroughly as possible and to pay more attention on them on the basis of spiritual science.

One experiences painful things sometimes. Not any human being does remember the big admonition of our destiny-burdened events, so that he feels obliged to turn his heart really deeper, more thoroughly to the events instead of judging superficially in the way of the external materialism we just want to overcome. In this regard, one would like to wish and long for that the human beings who are within our movement form a host, as it were, which deals thoroughly with the deeply moving questions of today. Thoroughness is necessary concerning a lot of matters. You do not imagine at all what is possible in our time.

Oh, I could tell a lot about that which can make the heart bloody to somebody who pursues the time really with the goodness of his heart. Today a lot of views and thoughts are spread, sometimes with the best intention, from an unhealthy, ahrimanic world view. But looking at the flood of war literature we have just to deeper meditate about the tasks of the cultural development. I attempt this now in my talks showing the real position of the single human beings. Because it is often a matter of defending thoroughness against superficiality. You could experience something very strange, for example, during the last weeks. Because of comprehensible reasons I would not like to mention the title of a book which has appeared abroad, even in German, and some people state that a German would have written it. Expressly I would like to stress that you can bring yourselves to understand any point of view. Perhaps, you can understand the most anti-German standpoint if the one or the other shows it. You may try to understand it, you need not share it, but perhaps you are able to understand it.

But the concerning book has characteristics to which it does not depend on the fact that it takes a thoroughly anti-German standpoint, that it reviles Germanness and the German nature on every line. One may understand that it is written viciously. But nobody is allowed to come and say: if a German speaks about the book that way, we can understand this, because he talks disparagingly about Germanness.—However, it depends on something different. The book is written, so that somebody who has a little feeling for internal professionalism and internal thoroughness, who is educated a little, must find: it is the most terrible simulation of the cheapest literature.—Completely apart from its standpoint, its literary level is so low that somebody who finds something in the book shows that he accepts the most trivial literature as something that one can take seriously, a book cobbled together with ignorance, I would like to say, with the most obvious ignorance.

So the standpoint does not matter; but you see from the way, as it is written like anybody who learnt thinking would not write, that one deals with a quite inferior sort of book. Nevertheless, I also had to hear judgments that this book whose title I do not mention because of particular reasons is taken seriously. If such matters appear, it is just to us not to shrink from forming a judgment on the basis of certain versatility. If anybody agrees to certain sentences which are expressed in that book as regards content, he does not need to take such a book seriously, already because the book is a terrible concoction, and because one does not take a terrible concoction seriously, because one cannot wish that even the truth is expressed terribly in the worst affect and in an uneducated way. I wanted to characterise such an example, because I would like to draw your attention to the fact that it depends on various things if the spiritual scientist tries to form a judgment about the world.

If it were possible to take a book for good, even if it is stylistically a horror book, then somebody would admit that he has not enough enlivened the spiritual-scientific feeling in his heart, in his soul. Not to express anything differently but to draw attention to the fact that spiritual science has to penetrate our feeling and thinking vividly in the most profound sense, concrete examples are also given in this field. It is very necessary that such concrete impulses are searched for in our souls. I have to admit what satisfied me particularly up to now, travelling through Germany, that I could not notice terrifying cheering after great victories. One noticed that pain about the enormous losses was in every soul at the same time. I believe that it is that way. Futile joy of victory must not be there. Since these destiny-burdened days demand not only enormous sacrifices, but they open up enormous wounds, also spiritual wounds if one considers the behaviour of many human beings. That is why it is very necessary that we remember now and again, just if we look at important matters in the field of spiritual science which responsibility is imposed on our souls and that we must long for times in which the effects of the young, unused etheric bodies and the souls can really meet who still are below in the bodies of the human beings and can send their sensations and abilities up to them.

A time will come after this war when the unused etheric bodies of those work who went through the gate of death and developed forces out of the sacrifices they made and which they could send down now for the spiritualisation of humankind. But below there must be souls who are able to receive this, who look up in lively confidence at that which went up in the spiritual world from the early deceased to shine down the forces of the spiritualisation of humankind.

There I would want that it appears to our eyes in the sense of the words which I would like to speak at the end of this consideration again:

From the courage of the fighters,
From the blood of the battles,
From the grief of the bereaved,
From the nation's sacrifices
Will grow up the fruits of spirit
If souls aware of spirit turn
Their senses to the spirit-land.

Notes

The earthly flame of spiritual knowledge
Brightly illuminates death's appearance;
The Self becomes cosmic eye and ear.

The translation of these verses in Our Dead contains some mistakes; perhaps, they occurred because Steiner used a script consisting of normal Latin but also of old German letters (Sütterlin script):

Es leuchtet hell dem Todesscheine
Des Geisteswissens (not: Geisteswillens) Erdenflamme;
Das Selbst wird Welten (not: Wellen)-Aug und Ohr.

a book which has appeared abroad: Richard Grelling J'accuse. By a German. Third edition, Lausanne, 1915

[ 1 ] “The bud vanishes in the breaking of the blossom, and one could say that the former is contradicted by the latter. In the same way, the fruit declares the blossom to be a false existence and replaces it as its truth. These forms are not merely different from one another but they crowd each other out as they are incompatible. Their Quid nature makes them at once into moments of the organic whole in which they not only do not contradict each other, but in which the one is as necessary as the other, and it is only this equal necessity that constitutes the life of the whole.”

In these words of Hegel, the most significant traits of his mode of conception are expressed. He believes that the things of reality carry within themselves their own contradiction and that the incentive for their growth, for the living process of their development, is given by the fact that they continually attempt to overcome this contradiction. The blossom would never become fruit if it were without contradiction. It would have no reason to go beyond its unquestioned existence.

An exactly opposite intellectual conviction forms the point of departure of Johann Friedrich Herbart (1776–1841). Hegel is a sharp thinker, but at the same time a spirit with a great thirst for reality. He would like to have only things that have absorbed the rich, saturated content of the world into themselves. For this reason, Hegel's thoughts must also be in an eternal flux, in a continuous state of becoming, in a forward motion as full of contradictions as reality itself. Herbart is a completely abstract thinker. He does not attempt to penetrate into things but looks at them from the corner into which he has withdrawn as an isolated thinker. The purely logical thinker is disturbed by a contradiction. He demands clear concepts that can exist side by side. One concept must not interfere with another. The thinker sees himself in a strange situation because he is confronted with reality that is full of contradictions, no matter what he may undertake. The concepts that he can derive from this reality are unsatisfactory to him. They offend his logical sense. This feeling of dissatisfaction becomes the point of departure. Herbart feels that if the reality that is spread out before his senses and before his mind supplies him with contradictory concepts, then it cannot be the true reality for which his thinking is striving. He derives his task from this situation. The contradictory reality is not real being but only appearance. In this view he follows Kant to a certain degree, but while Kant declares true being unattainable to thinking cognition, Herbart believes one penetrates from appearance to being by transforming the contradictory concepts of appearance and changing them into concepts that are free from contradictions. As smoke indicates fire, so appearance points at a form of being as its ground. If, through our logical thinking, we elaborate out of a contradictory world picture given to us by our senses and our mind, one that is not contradictory, then we gain from this uncontradictory world picture what we are looking for. This world picture, to be sure, does not appear in this form that is free from contradictions, but it lies behind the apparent one as true reality. Herbart does not set out to comprehend the directly given reality, but creates another reality through which the former is to become explainable. He arrives in this fashion at an abstract thought system that looks rather meager as compared to the rich, full reality. The true reality cannot be a unity, for a unity would have to contain within itself the infinite variety of the real things and events. It must be a plurality of simple entities, eternally equal to themselves, incapable of change and development. Only a simple entity that unchangeably preserves its qualities is free from contradictions. An entity in development is something different in one moment from what it is in another, that is, its qualities are contradictory at various times. The true world is, therefore, a plurality of simple, never-changing entities, and what we perceive are not these simple entities but their relations to one another. These relations have nothing to do with the real being. If one simple entity enters into a relationship with another, the two entities are not changed thereby, but I do perceive the result of their relationship. The reality we perceive directly is a sum of relations between real entities. When one entity abandons its relation to another and replaces it by a relationship with a third entity, something happens without touching the being of the entities themselves. It is this event that we perceive, namely, our apparent contradictory reality. It is interesting to note how Herbart, on the basis of this conception, forms his thoughts concerning the life of the soul. The soul is, as are all other real entities, simple and unchangeable in itself. This entity is now engaged in relations with other beings. The expression of these relations is life in thought-pictures. Everything that happens within us—imagination, feeling, will—is an interplay between the soul and the rest of the world of real entities. Thus, for Herbart, the soul life becomes the appearance of relations into which the simple soul-entity enters with the world. Herbart has a mathematical mind, and his whole world conception is derived fundamentally from mathematical conceptions. A number does not change when it becomes the link of an arithmetical operation. Three remains three, whether it is added to four or subtracted from seven. As the numbers have their place within the mathematical operations, so do the individual entities within the relationships that develop between them. For this reason, psychology becomes an arithmetical operation for Herbart. He attempts to apply mathematics to psychology. How the thought-images condition each other, how they effect one another, what results they produce through their coexistence are things calculated by Herbart. The “ego” is not the spiritual entity that we lay hold of in our self-consciousness, but it is the result of the cooperation of all thought-pictures and thereby also nothing more than a sum, a last expression of relationships. Of the simple entity, which is the basis of our soul life, we know nothing, but its continual relation to other entities is apparent to us. In this play of relations one entity is entangled. This condition is expressed by the fact that all these relationships are tending toward a center, and this tendency expresses itself in the thought of the ego.

[ 2 ] Herbart is, in another sense than Goethe, Schiller, Schelling, Fichte and Hegel, a representative of the development of modern world conception. Those thinkers attempt a representation of the self-conscious soul in a world picture capable of containing this self-conscious soul as an element. In so doing they become the spokesmen for the spiritual impulse of their age. Herbart is confronted with this impulse and he must admit the feeling that this impulse is there. He attempts to understand it, but in the form of thinking that he imagines to be the correct one, he finds no possibility of penetrating into the life of the self-conscious being of the soul. He remains outside of it. One can see in Herbart's world conception what difficulties man's thinking encounters when it tries to comprehend what it has essentially become in the course of mankind's evolution. Compared to Hegel, Herbart appears like a thinker who strives in vain for an aim at which Hegel believes actually to have arrived. Herbart's thought constructions are an attempt to outline as an external spectator what Hegel means to present through the inner participation of thought. Thinkers like Herbart are also significant for the characterization of the modern form of world conception. They indicate the aim that is to be reached by the very display of their insufficient means for the attainment of this aim. The spiritual aim of the age motivates Herbart's struggle; his intellectual energy is inadequate to understand and to express this struggle sufficiently. The course of the philosophical evolution shows that, besides the thinkers who move on the crest of the time-impulses, there are also always some active ones who form world conceptions through their failure to understand these impulses. Such world conceptions may well be called reactionary.

[ 3 ] Herbart reverts to the view of Leibniz. His simple soul entity is unchangeable; it neither grows nor decays. It existed when this apparent life contained within man's ego began, and will again withdraw from these relations when this life ceases to continue independently. Herbart arrives at his conception of God through his world picture, which contains many simple entities that produce the events through their relations. Within these processes we observe purpose-directed order. But the relations could only be accidental and chaotic if the entities, which, according to their own nature, would have nothing in common, were left entirely to themselves. The fact that they are teleologically ordered, therefore, points toward a wise world ruler who directs their relations. “No one is capable of giving a close definition of deity,” says Herbart. He condemns “the pretensions of the systems that speak of God as of an object to be comprehended in sharply drawn contours by means of which we would rise to a knowledge for which we are simply denied the data.”

[ 4 ] Man's actions and artistic creations are completely without foundation in this world picture. All possibility to fit them into this system is lacking. For what could a relationship of simple entities that are completely indifferent to all processes mean to the actions of man? So Herbart is forced to look for independent tools both for ethics and for esthetics. He believes he finds them in human feeling. When man perceives things or events, he can associate the feeling of pleasure or displeasure with them. We are pleased when we see man's will going in a direction that is in agreement with his convictions. When we make the opposite observation, the feeling of displeasure overcomes us. Because of this feeling we call the agreement of conviction and will good; the discord, we call morally reprehensible. A feeling of this kind can be attached only to a relationship between moral elements. The will as such is morally indifferent, as is also the conviction. Only when the two meet does ethical pleasure or displeasure emerge. Herbart calls a relation of moral elements a practical idea. He enumerates five such practical-ethical ideas: The idea of moral freedom, consisting of the agreement of will and moral conviction; the idea of perfection that has its basis in the fact that the strong pleases rather than the weak; the idea of right, which springs from displeasure with antagonism; the idea of benevolence, which expresses the pleasure that one feels as one furthers the will of another person; the idea of retribution, which demands that all good and evil that has originated in a person is to be compensated again in the same person.

Herbart bases his ethics on a human feeling, on moral sentiment. He separates it from the world conception that has to do with what is, and transforms it into a number of postulates of what should be. He combines it with esthetics and, indeed, makes it a part of them. For the science of esthetics also contains postulates concerning what is to be. It, too, deals with relations that are associated with feelings. The individual color leaves us esthetically indifferent. When one color is joined to another, this combination can be either satisfactory or displeasing to us. What pleases in a combination is beautiful; what displeases, is ugly. Robert Zimmermann (1824 – 1898) has ingeniously constructed a science of art on these principles. Only a part of it, the part that considers those relations of beauty that are concerned with the realm of action, is to be the ethics or the science of the good. The significant writings of Robert Zimmermann in the field of esthetics (science of art) show that even attempts at philosophical formulations that do not reach the summit of cultural impulses of a time can produce important stimulation's for the development of the spirit.

[ 5 ] Because of his mathematically inclined mind, Herbart successfully investigated those processes of human soul life that really do go on with a certain regularity in the same way with all human beings. These processes will, of course, not prove to be the more intimate and individually characteristic ones. What is original and characteristic in each personality will be overlooked by such a mathematical intellect, but a person of such a mentality will obtain a certain insight into the average processes of the mind and, at the same time, through his sure skill in handling the arithmetical calculations, will control the measurement of the mental development. As the laws of mechanics enable us to develop technical skills, so the laws of the psychological processes make it possible for us to devise a technique in education for the development of mental abilities. For this reason, Herbart's work has become fruitful in the field of pedagogy. He has found many followers among pedagogues, but not among them alone. This seems at first sight hard to understand with regard to a world conception offering a picture of meager, colorless generalities, but it can be explained from the fact that it is just the people who feel a certain need for a world conception who are easily attracted by such general concepts that are rigidly linked together like terms of an arithmetical operation. It is something fascinating to experience how one thought is linked to the next as if it were through a self-operative mechanical process, because this process awakens in the observer a feeling of security. The mathematical sciences are so highly appreciated because of this assurance. They unfold their structure, so to speak, through their own force. They only have to be supplied with the thought material and everything else can be left to their logical necessity, which works automatically. In the progress of Hegel's thinking, which is saturated with reality, the thinker continually has to take the initiative. There is more warmth, more direct life in this mode of thinking, but it also requires the constant support of the soul forces. This is because it is reality in this case that the thinker catches in his thoughts, an ever-flowing reality that at every point shows its individual character and fights against every logical rigidity. Hegel also had a great number of pupils and followers, but they were much less faithful than those of Herbart. As long as Hegel's powerful personality enlivened his thoughts, they exerted their charm, and as long as his words were heard under its spell, they carried great conviction. After Hegel's death many of his pupils went their own paths. This is only natural, for whoever is self-dependent will also shape his own attitude toward reality in his own fashion. We observe a different process with Herbart's pupils. They elaborate the master's doctrine, but they continue the fundamental stock of his thoughts without change. A thinker who finds his way into Hegel's mode of thinking penetrates into the course of the world's development that is manifested in innumerable evolutionary phases. The individual thinker, of course, can be stimulated to follow this course of evolution, but he is free to shape the various stages according to his own individual mode of conception. In Herbart's case, however, we deal with a firmly constructed thought system that commands confidence through the solidity of its structure. One may reject it, but if one accepts it, one will have to accept it in its original form. For the individual personal element, which challenges and forces us to face the self of another thinker with our own self, is lacking here.

[ 6 ] “Life is a miserable affair; I have decided to spend mine by thinking about it.” Arthur Schopenhauer (1788–1861) spoke these words in a conversation with Wieland at the beginning of his university years, and his world conception sprang from this mood. Schopenhauer had experienced personal hardship and had observed the sad lives of others when he decided upon concentrating on philosophical thought as a new aim of life. The sudden death of his father, caused by a fall from a storehouse, his bad experiences in his career as a merchant, the sight of scenes of human miseries that he witnessed as a' young man while traveling, and many other things of similar kind had produced in him the wish, not so much to know the world, but rather to procure for himself a means to endure it through contemplation. He needed a world conception in order to calm his gloomy disposition. When he began his university studies, the thoughts that Kant, Fichte and Schelling introduced to the German philosophical life were in full swing. Hegel's star was just then rising. In 1806 he had published his first larger work, The Phenomenology of the Spirit. In Goettingen, Schopenhauer heard the teachings of Gottlob Ernst Schulze, the author of the book, Aenesidemus, who was, to be sure, in a certain respect an opponent of Kant, but who nevertheless drew the student's attention to Kant and Plato as the two great spirits toward whom he would have to look. With fiery enthusiasm Schopenhauer plunged into Kant's mode of conception. He called the revolution that his study caused in his head a spiritual rebirth. He found it even more satisfactory because he considered it to be in agreement with the views of Plato, the other philosopher Schulze had pointed out to him.

Plato had said, “As long as we approach the things and events merely through sensual perceptions, we are like men who are chained in a dark cave in such a way that they cannot turn their heads; therefore, they can only see, by means of the light of a fire burning behind them, the shadows upon the opposite wall, the shadows of real things that are carried between the fire and their backs, the shadows of each other and of themselves. These shadows are to the real things what the things of sensual perception are to the ideas, which are the true reality. The things of the sensually perceptible world come into existence and pass again, the ideas are eternal.”

Did not Kant teach this, too? Is not the perceptible world only a world of appearances for him also? To be sure, the sage from Koenigsberg did not attribute this eternal reality to the ideas, but with respect to the perception of the reality spread out in space and time, Schopenhauer thought Plato and Kant to be in complete agreement. Soon he also accepted this view as an irrevocable truth. He argued, “I have a knowledge of the things insofar as I see, hear, feel them, etc., that is to say, insofar as I have them as a thought picture in my mind's eye. An object then can be there for me only by being represented to my mind as a thought image. Heaven, earth, etc., are therefore my mind's imaginations, for the “thing in itself' that corresponds to them has become my mind's object only by taking on the character of a thought representation.”

[ 7 ] Although Schopenhauer found everything that Kant stated concerning the subjective character of the world of perception absolutely correct, he was not at all satisfied with regard to Kant's remarks concerning the thing in itself. Schulze had also been an opponent of Kant's view in this respect. How can we know anything at all of a “thing in itself"? How can we even express a word about it if our knowledge is completely limited to thought pictures of our mind, if the “thing in itself” lies completely outside their realm? Schopenhauer had to search for another path in order to come to the “thing in itself.” In his search he was influenced by the contemporary world conceptions more than he ever admitted. The element that Schopenhauer added to the conviction that he had from Kant and Plato as the “thing in itself,” we find also in Fichte, whose lectures he had heard in 1811 in Berlin. We also find this element in Schelling. Schopenhauer could hear the most mature form of Fichte's views in Berlin. This last form is preserved in Fichte's posthumous works. Fichte declared with great emphasis, while Schopenhauer, according to his own admission, “listened attentively,” that all being has its last roots in a universal will. As soon as man discovers will in himself, he gains the conviction that there is a world independent of himself as an individual. Will is not a knowledge of the individual but a form of real being. Fichte could also have called his world conception, The World as Knowledge and Will. In Schelling's book, Concerning the Nature of Human Freedom and Matters Connected with This Problem, we actually find the sentences, “In the last and deepest analysis there is no other being than will. Will is fundamental being and will alone can claim all its predicates: To be without cause, eternal, independent of time, self-assertive. All philosophy is striving for just this aim, to find this highest expression.”

That will is fundamental being becomes Schopenhauer's view also. When knowledge is extinguished, will remains, for will also precedes knowledge. “Knowledge has its origin in my brain,” says Schopenhauer, “but my brain must have been produced through an active, creative force. Man is aware of such a creative energy in his own will.” Schopenhauer now attempts to prove that what is active in all other things is also will. The will, therefore, is, as the “thing in itself,” at the root of all reality that is merely represented in the thought pictures of our mental life, and we can have a knowledge of this “thing in itself.” It is not, as Kant's “thing in itself,” beyond our perceptive imagination but we experience its actuality within our own organism.

[ 8 ] The development of modern world conception is progressive in Schopenhauer insofar as he is the first thinker to make the attempt to elevate one of the fundamental forces of the self-consciousness to the general principle of the world. The active self-consciousness contains the riddle of the age. Schopenhauer is incapable of finding a world picture that contains the roots of self-consciousness. Fichte, Schelling and Hegel had attempted to do that. Schopenhauer takes one force of the self-consciousness, will, and claims that this element is not merely in the human soul but in the whole world. Thus, for him, man is not rooted with his full self-consciousness in the world's foundation, but at least with a part of it, with his will. Schopenhauer thus shows himself to be one of those representatives of the evolution of modern world conception who can only partially encompass the fundamental riddle of the time within their consciousness.

[ 9 ] Goethe also had a profound influence on Schopenhauer. From the autumn of 1813 until the following spring, the young Schopenhauer enjoyed the company of the poet. Goethe introduced him personally to his doctrine of colors. Goethe's mode of conception agreed completely with the view that Schopenhauer had developed concerning the behavior of our sense organs and our mind in the process of perception of things and events. Goethe had undertaken careful and intensive investigations concerning the perceptions of the eye and phenomena of light and colors, and had elaborated their results in his work, Concerning the Doctrine of Colors. He had arrived at results that differed from those of Newton, the founder of the modern theory of color. The antagonism that exists in this field between Newton and Goethe cannot be judged properly if one does not start by pointing to the difference between the world conceptions of these two personalities. Goethe considered the sense organs of man as the highest physical apparatuses. For the world of colors, he therefore had to estimate the eye as his highest judge for the observation of law-determined connections. Newton and the physicists investigated the phenomena that are pertinent to this question in a fashion that Goethe called “the greatest misfortune of modern physics,” and that consisted in the fact that the experiments have been separated, as it were, from man.

One wants to know nature only according to the indications of artificial instruments and thereby even intends to limit and to prove what nature is capable of.

The eye perceives light and darkness and, within the light-dark field of observation, the colors. Goethe takes his stand within this field and attempts to prove how light, darkness and the colors are connected. Newton and his followers meant to observe the processes of light and colors as they would go on if there were no human eye. But the stipulation of such an external sphere is, according to Goethe's world conception, without justification. We do not obtain an insight into the nature of a thing by disregarding the effects we observe, but this nature is given to us through the mind's exact observation of the regularity of these effects. The effects that the eye perceives, taken in their totality and represented according to the law of their connection are the essence of the phenomena of light and color, not a separated world of external processes that are to be determined by means of artificial instruments.

It is really of no avail that we attempt to express directly the nature of a thing. What we are aware of are effects, and a complete account of these effects might possibly encompass the essence of that thing. Vainly do we endeavor to describe the character of a man; we put his deeds and actions together, however, and a picture of his character arises before our eyes. Colors are the actions of light; they are what light does and suffers. In this sense we can expect information from them concerning the nature of light. Color and light are indeed in close relation but we must think of them both as belonging to nature as a whole; for it is nature as a whole that is ready to manifest itself in special ways to the sense of the eye.

Here we find Goethe's world view applied to a special case. In the human organism, through its senses, through the soul of man, there is revealed what is concealed in the rest of nature. In man, nature reaches its climax. Whoever, therefore, like Newton, looks for the truth of nature outside man, will not find it, according to Goethe's fundamental conviction.

[ 10 ] Schopenhauer sees in the world that the mind perceives in space and time only an idea of this mind. The essence of this world of thought pictures is revealed to us in our will, by which we see our own organism permeated. Schopenhauer, therefore, cannot agree with a physical doctrine that sees the nature of light, not in the mental content of the eye, but in a world that is supposed to exist separated from the eye. Goethe's mode of conception was, for this reason, more agreeable to Schopenhauer because Goethe did not go beyond the world of the perceptual content of the eye. He considered Goethe's view to be a confirmation of his own opinion concerning this world. The antagonism between Goethe and Newton is not merely a question of physics but concerns the world conception as a whole. Whoever is of the opinion that a valid statement about nature can be arrived at through experiments that can be detached from the human being must take his stand with Newton's theory of color and remain on that ground. Modern physics is of this opinion. It can only agree with the judgment concerning Goethe's theory of colors that Helmholtz expressed in his essay, Goethe's Anticipations of Future Ideas in Natural Science:

Wherever it is a question of problems that can be solved through poetic divination producing imaginative pictures, the poet has shown himself capable of the most excellent work; wherever only a consciously applied inductive method could have helped, Goethe has failed.

If one sees in the pictures of human imagination only products that are added to an already complete nature, then it is of course necessary to determine what goes on in nature apart from these pictures. But if one sees in them manifestations of the essence contained in nature as Goethe did, then one will consult them in investigating the truth. Schopenhauer, to be sure, shares neither the first nor the second standpoint. He is not at all ready to recognize sense perceptions as containing the essence of things. He rejects the method of modern physics because physics does not limit itself to the element that alone is directly given, namely, that of perceptions as mental pictures. But Schopenhauer also transformed this question from a problem of physics into one of world conception. As he also begins his world conception with man and not with an external world apart from man, he had to side with Goethe, who had consistently drawn the conclusion for the theory of colors that necessarily follows if one sees in man with his healthy sense organs “the greatest and most exact physical apparatus.” Hegel, who as a philosopher stands completely on this foundation, had for this reason forcefully defended Goethe's theory of colors. He says in his Philosophy of Nature:

For the description of the color phenomenon that is adequate to its concept, we are indebted to Goethe, who was attracted early by the phenomena of color and light and who was drawn to their contemplation especially in painting; his pure and simple sense of nature had to revolt against such barbarism of reflected thought as is found in Newton. Goethe took up everything about light and color that had been stated and experimentally demonstrated since Plato. He conceived the phenomenon as simple, and the truest instinct of reason does consist in the ability of approaching a phenomenon from that side that allows its simplest representation.

[ 11 ] For Schopenhauer, the essential ground for all world processes is the will. It is an eternal dark urge for existence. It contains no reason because reason comes into existence only in the human brain, which in turn is created by the will. Hegel sees the spirit as the root of the world in self-conscious reason, and in human reason, only as individual realization of the general world reason. Schopenhauer, by contrast, recognizes reason only as a product of the brain, as a mere bubble that comes into being at the end of the process in which will, the unreasoning blind urge, has created everything else first. In Hegel, all things and processes are permeated by reason; in Schopenhauer, everything is without reason, for everything is the product of the will without reason. The personality of Schopenhauer exemplifies unequivocally a statement of Fichte, “The kind of world conception a man chooses depends on the kind of man he is.”

Schopenhauer had bad experiences and had become acquainted with the worst side of the world before he decided to spend his life in contemplation of it. It is for this reason that he is satisfied to depict the world as essentially deprived of reason as a result of blind will. Reason, according to his mode of thinking, has no power over unreason, for it is itself the result of unreason; it is illusion and dream, produced out of will. Schopenhauer's world conception is the dark, melancholy mood of his soul translated into thought. His eye was not prepared to follow the manifestations of reason in the world with pleasure. This eye saw only unreason that was manifest in sorrow and pain. Thus, his doctrine of ethics could only be based on the observation of suffering. An action is moral only if it has its foundation in such an observation. Sympathy, pity, must be the source of human actions. What better course could be taken by a man who has gained the insight that all beings suffer than to let his actions be guided by pity. As everything unreasonable and evil has its roots in will, man will stand morally the higher the more he mortifies his unruly will in himself. The manifestation of this will in the individual person is selfishness, egotism. Whoever surrenders to pity and thereby wills not for himself but for others, has become master of the will.

One method of freeing oneself from the will consists in surrendering to artistic creations and to the impressions that are derived from works of art. The artist does not produce to satisfy a desire for something; he does not produce his works because of a will that is selfishly directed toward things and events. His production proceeds out of unegotistic joy. He plunges into the essence of things in pure contemplation. This is also true of the enjoyment of art. As long as we approach a work of art with the desire stirring in us to own it, we are still entangled in the lower appetites of the will. Only when we admire beauty without desiring it have we raised ourselves to the lofty stage where we no longer are dependent on the blind force of will. Then art has become for us a means to free ourselves for the moment from the unreasoning force of the blind will to exist. The deliverance takes place in its purest form in the enjoyment of the musical work of art, for music does not speak to us through the medium of representative imagination as do the other arts. Music copies nothing in nature. As all things and events are only mental pictures, so also the arts that take these things as models can only make impressions on us as manifestations of imaginations. Man produces tone out of himself without a natural model. Because man has will as his own essence within himself, it can only be the will through which the world of music is directly released. It is for this reason that music so deeply moves the human soul. It does this because music is the manifestation of man's inner nature, his true being, his will, and it is a triumph of man that he is in possession of an art in which he enjoys selflessly, freed from the fetters of the will, what is the root of all desire, of all unreason. This view of Schopenhauer concerning music is again the result of his most personal nature. Even before his university years, when he was apprenticed to a merchant in Hamburg, he wrote to his mother:

How did the heavenly seed find a place on the hard ground on which necessity and poverty struggle for every little spot? We have been banished from the primordial spirit and are not to reach up to him. Yet, a pitiful angel has begged the heavenly flower for us and it blossoms in full glory rooted in this soil of misery. The pulsation's of the divine art of music have not ceased to beat through the centuries of barbarism, and a direct resonance of the eternal is preserved in this art for us, understandable to every soul and exalted above even vice and virtue.

[ 12 ] From the attitude that is taken toward art by the two antipodes of world conception, Hegel and Schopenhauer, one can learn how a world conception deeply affects the personal relation of man toward the various realms of life. Hegel, who saw in man's world of conceptions and ideas the climax toward which all external nature strives as its perfection, can recognize as the most perfect art only the one in which the spirit appears in its most perfect form, and in which this spirit at the same time clings to the element that continuously strives toward the spirit. Every formation of external nature tends to be spirit, but it does not reach this aim. When a man now creates such an external spatial form, endowing it as an artist with the spirit for which material itself strives without being capable of reaching it, then he has produced a perfect work of art. This is the case in the art of sculpture. What otherwise appears only in the inward life of the soul as formless spirit, as idea, is shaped by the artist out of matter. The soul, the inner life that we perceive in our consciousness as being without shape, is what speaks out of a statue, out of a formation of space. This marriage of the sensual world with the world of the spirit represents the artistic ideal of a world conception that sees the purpose of nature in the creation of the spirit, and therefore can also recognize the beautiful only in a work that appears as immediate expression of the spirit emerging in the form of nature. Whoever, like Schopenhauer, however, sees in all nature only mental pictures, cannot possibly recognize the ideal of art in a work that imitates nature. He must choose an art as his ideal that is free of all nature, that is to say, music.

[ 13 ] Schopenhauer considered everything that leads toward the extirpation, the mortification of the will quite consistently as desirable, for an extirpation of the will means an extinction of the unreasonable in the world. Man is to give up will. He is to kill all desire within himself. Asceticism is, for this reason, Schopenhauer's moral ideal. The wise man will extinguish within himself all wishes; he will annihilate his will completely. He will reach the point where no motivation forces him to exert his will. All striving consists merely in quietistic yearning for deliverance from all life. In the world-renouncing life-views in Buddhism, Schopenhauer acknowledged a doctrine of profound wisdom. Compared to Hegel's, one can thus call Schopenhauer's world view reactionary. Hegel attempted everywhere to affect a reconciliation of man with life; he always strove to present all action as a cooperation with a reason-directed order of the world. Schopenhauer regarded enmity to life, withdrawal from reality and world flight as the ideal of the wise man.

Hegel's mode of world and life conception contains an element that can produce doubts and questions. Hegel's point of departure is pure thinking, the abstract idea, which he himself once called “an oyster-like, gray or entirely black” being (in a letter to Goethe on February 20, 1821), of which he maintained at the same time should be considered the “representation of God as he is in his eternal essence before the creation of nature and a finite spirit.” The aim that he reaches is the individual human spirit endowed with a content of its own, through whom first comes to light what led only a shadow-like existence in a gray, oyster-like element. This can easily be understood to mean that a personality as a living self-conscious being does not exist outside the human spirit. Hegel derives the content-saturated element that we experience within ourselves from the ideal element that we obtain through thinking. It is quite comprehensible that a spirit of a certain inner disposition felt repulsed by this view of world and life. Only thinkers of such a selfless devotion as that of Karl Rosenkranz (1805–1879) could so completely find their way into Hegel's movement of thought and, in such perfect agreement with Hegel, create for themselves structures of ideas that appear like a rebirth of Hegel's own thought structure in a less impressive medium. Others could not understand how man is to be enlightened through pure idea with respect to the infinity and variety of the impressions that pour in on him as he directs his observations toward nature, crowded as it is with colors and forms, and how he is to profit if he lifts his soul from experiences in the world of sensation, feeling and perception-guided imagination to the frosty heights of pure thought. To interpret Hegel in this fashion is to misunderstand him, but it is quite comprehensible that he should have been misunderstood in this way.

This mood that was dissatisfied with Hegel's mode of thinking found expression in the current thought that had representatives in Franz Xaver von Baader (1765–1841), Karl Christian Friedrich Krause (1781–1832), Immanuel Hermann Fichte (1797 – 1879), Christian Hermann Weisse (1801–1866), Anton Guenther (1783–1863), Karl Friedrich Eusebius Thrahndorff (1782–1863) Martin Deutinger (1815– 1864), and Hermann Ulrici (1806–1884). They attempted to replace the gray, oyster-like pure thought of Hegel by a life-filled, personal, primal entity, an individual God. Baader called it an “atheistic conception” to believe that God attained a perfect existence only in man. God must be a personality and the world must not, as Hegel thought, proceed from him like a logical process in which one concept always necessarily produces the next. On the contrary, the world must be God's free creation, the product of his almighty will. These thinkers approach the Christian doctrine of revelation. To justify and fortify this doctrine scientifically becomes the more-or-less conscious purpose of their thinking. Baader plunged into the mysticism of Jakob Boehme (1757–1624), Meister Eckhardt (1250– 1329), Tauler (1290–1361) and Paracelsus (1494–1541), whose language, so rich in pictures, he considered a much more appropriate means to express the most profound truths than the pure thoughts of Hegel's doctrine. That Baader also caused Schelling to enrich his thoughts with a deeper and warmer content through the assimilation's of conceptions from Jakob Boehme has already been mentioned.

In the course of the development of the modern world conception personalities like Krause will always be remarkable. He was a mathematician who allowed himself to be swayed by the proud, logically perfect character of this science, and attempted a solution of the problems of world conception after the model of the method he was used to as a mathematician. Typical of this kind of thinker is the great mathematician, Newton, who treated the phenomena of the visible universe as if it were an arithmetical problem but, at the same time, satisfied his own need concerning the fundamental questions of world conception in a fashion that approached the belief to be found in revealed religion. Krause finds it impossible to accept a conception that seeks the primal being of the world in the things and processes. Whoever, like Hegel, looks for God in the world cannot find him, for the world, to be sure, is in God, but God is not in the world. He is a self-dependent being resting within himself in blissful serenity. Krause's world of ideas rests on “thoughts of an infinite, self-dependent being, outside of which there is nothing; this being comprises everything by itself and in itself as the one ground, and that we have to think of as the ground of reason, nature and humanity.” He does not want to have anything in common with a view “that takes the finite or the world as the sum total of everything finite to be God itself, idolizing and confusing it with God.” No matter how deep one may penetrate into the reality given to the senses and the mind, one will never arrive in this way at the fundamental ground of all being. To obtain a conception of this being is possible only if one accompanies all finite observation with a divinatory vision of an over-worldly reality.

Immanuel Hermann Fichte settled his account with Hegelianism poignantly in his essay, Propositions for the Prolegomena of Theology (1826), and Contributions Toward a Characterization of Modern Philosophy (1829). Then, in numerous works, he tried to prove and elaborate his view that a conscious personal being must be recognized as the basis of all world phenomena. In order to procure an emphatic effect for the opposition to Hegel's conception, which proceeded from pure thought, Immanuel Hermann Fichte joined hands with friends who were of the same opinion. In 1837, together with Weisse, Sengler, K. Ph. Fischer, Chalybäs, Fr. Hoffmann, Ulrici, Wirth and others, he began the publication of the Journal for Philosophy and Speculative Theology. It is Fichte's conviction that we have risen to the highest knowledge only if we have understood that “the highest thought that truly solves the world problem is the idea of a primal subject or absolute personality, which knows and fathoms itself in its ideal as well as real infinity.”

The world creation and preservation that comprises the world reality, consists solely in the uninterrupted consciousness-permeated will-direction of God, such that he is only consciousness and will, but both in a highest union, therefore, only person, or person in the most eminent sense of the word.

Chr. Hermann Weisse believed that it was necessary to proceed from Hegel's world conception to a completely theological mode of conception. In the Christian idea of the three personalities in the one deity, he saw the aim of his thinking. He attempted to represent this idea as the result of a natural and unsophisticated common sense and did so with an uncommon array of ingenuity. In his triune, Weisse believed that in a personal deity possessing a living will he had something infinitely richer than Hegel with his gray idea. This living will is to “give to the inner godly nature with one breath the one definite form and no other that is implied at all places in the Holy Writ of the Old and New Testaments. In it, God is shown prior to the creation of the world as well as during and after that event in the shining element of his glory as surrounded by an interminable heavenly host of serving spirits in a fluid immaterial body, which enables him to fully communicate with the created world.”

[ 14 ] Anton Guenther, the “Viennese Philosopher,” and Martin Deutinger, who was under his influence, move with the thoughts of their world conception completely within the framework of the catholic theological mode of conception. Guenther attempts to free man from the natural world order by dividing him into two parts—a natural being that belongs to the world of necessary law, and a spirit being that constitutes a self-dependent part of a higher spirit world and has an existence comparable to an “entity” as described by Herbart. He believes that he overcomes Hegelianism in this manner and that he supplies the foundation for a Christian world conception. The Church itself was not of this opinion, for in Rome Guenther's writings were included in the Prohibitory Index. Deutinger fought vehemently against Hegel's “pure thinking,” which, in his opinion, ought to be prevented from devouring life-filled reality. He ranks the living will higher than pure thought. It can, as creative will, produce something; thought is powerless and abstract. Thrahndorff also takes living will as his point of departure. The world cannot be explained from the shadowy realm of ideas, but a vigorous will must seize these ideas in order to create real being. The world's deepest content does not unfold itself to man in thoughtful comprehension, but in an emotional reaction, in love through which the individual surrenders to the world, to the will that rules in the universe. It is quite apparent that all these thinkers endeavor to overcome thinking and its object, the pure idea. They are unwilling to acknowledge thinking as the highest manifestation of the spirit of man. In order to comprehend the ultimate substance of the world, Thrahndorff wants to approach it, not with the power of knowledge, but of love. It is to become an object of emotion, not of reason. It is the belief of these philosophers that through clear, pure thinking the ardent, religious devotion to the primordial forces of existence are destroyed.

[ 15 ] This opinion has its root in a misconception of Hegel's thought world. Its misunderstanding becomes especially apparent in the views concerning Hegel's attitude toward religion that spread after his death. The lack of clarity that began to prevail regarding this attitude resulted in a split among Hegel's followers into one party that considered his world conception to be a firm pillar of revealed Christianity, and another that used his doctrine to dissolve the Christian conceptions and to replace them by a radically liberal view.

[ 16 ] Neither party could have based its opinion on Hegel if they had understood him correctly, for Hegel's world conception contains nothing that can be used for support of a religion or for its destruction. He had meant to do this with respect to any religion as little as he had intended to create any natural phenomena through his pure thought. As he had set out to extract the pure thought from the processes of nature in order to comprehend them in that way, so he had also, in the case of religion, merely the intention to bring its thought content to the surface. As he considered everything that is real in the world as reasonable just because it is real, so he held this view also in regard to religion. It must come into existence by soul forces quite beyond those that are at the disposal of the thinker when he approaches them in order to comprehend them.

It was also an error of such thinkers as Fichte, Weisse, Deutinger and others that they fought against Hegel because he had not proceeded from the realm of pure thought to the religious experience of the personal deity. Hegel had never set himself a task of this kind. He considered that to be the task of the religious consciousness. The younger Fichte, Weisse, Krause, Deutinger and the rest wanted to create a new religion through their world conception. Hegel would have considered such a task to be as absurd as the wish to illuminate the world through the idea of light, or to create a magnet out of the thought of magnetism. To be sure, in Hegel's opinion, religion has its root in the idea, just as the whole world of nature and the spirit. For this reason, it is possible that the human spirit can rediscover this idea in religion, but as the magnet was created out of the thought of magnetism before the human mind came into being, and as the latter only afterwards has to comprehend the magnet's creation, so also religion has become what it is before its thought emerged in the human soul as an illuminating part of world conception. If Hegel had lived to experience the religious criticism of his pupils, he would have felt compelled to say, “Take your hands off all foundation of religion, off all creation of religious conceptions, as long as you want to remain thinkers and do not intend to become messiahs.” The world conception of Hegel, if it is correctly understood, cannot have a retroactive effect on the religious consciousness. The philosopher who reflects on the realm of art has the same relation to his object as the thinker who wants to fathom the nature of religion.

[ 17 ] The Halle Yearbooks, published from 1838 to 1843 by Arnold Ruge and Theodor Echtermeyer, served as a forum for the philosophical controversies of the time. Starting with a defense and explanation of Hegel, they soon proceeded to develop his ideas independently, and thus made the transition to the views that are called “radical world conceptions” in the next chapter. After 1841, the editors called their journal, The German Yearbook, and, as one of their aims, they considered “the fight against political illiberality, against theories of feudalism and landed property.” In the historical development of the time they became active as radical politicians, demanding a state in which perfect freedom prevails. Thus, they abandoned the spirit of Hegel, who wanted to understand history, not to make it.

The first part of our lecture today is devoted to insights that are connected with real experiences that our social karma has led us to in recent times. The second part is intended to cast some highlights on what may interest us particularly in current events.

In these two public lectures, I had to emphasize how it is necessary for the presentation of the spiritual worlds to gradually get used to a kind of different language than the one we use to characterize the insights of the worlds in which we find ourselves through our sensory observation and through the mind that is bound to the brain. To support our friends, I would like to refer to specific recent experiences that have taken place within our wider circle, events for which I could certainly choose others, but I choose these events because they tie in with, I would say, recent experiences and can give us ideas about the relationship between the human soul and the spiritual worlds.

I have always emphasized that when the soul on its path of knowledge crosses the threshold that leads into the spiritual world, then one of the first experiences is becoming one with what one experiences, observes. Here on the physical plane, one is, so to speak, enclosed in one's skin when facing the things one observes. As soon as one enters the spiritual world, has something to do with the spiritual world, one does not feel enclosed in the way one does in the physical body in the skin; one feels one's whole being spread out, as if identified with the beings and events one is dealing with. To explain this, I will go into positive events.

Recently, an elderly member passed through the gate of death. For years this member had lived with all his mind and soul in the ideas that one acquires when one really feels what spiritual science can give. It is of very special importance and is therefore mentioned so often that the theoretical absorption of what is given as spiritual-scientific ideas cannot be everything. It can be a starting point, but not everything. These ideas must take hold of our feelings and perceptions. In my public lecture, I was even able to explain how the sentient soul is currently much more closely related to the eternal core of the human being, while what is experienced from the consciousness soul is more relevant to what the human being experiences in connection with the physical world in the present epoch. That is why it is so important to feel what one can feel when absorbing spiritual knowledge, because this feeling has a much greater power to grasp our soul and to really bring it into contact with the supersensible world than mere thinking, intellectual reasoning. So the personality I am talking about has lived a great deal in our spiritual-scientific ideas, and now I can see, I can say, a very short time after death – before the actual occurrence of death on the physical plane has been reported to me in any way , how this personality, while still in its etheric body, processed within itself what it had absorbed in the way of feeling and intuitive powers, what it had become through living for years in the spiritual-scientific current. When its etheric body was still united with the astral body and the ego, what I have described above entered of its own accord. The personality that had passed through the gate of death came and told me that she now feels within herself what she has become through spiritual science, what she feels within herself now that she is no longer confined by the physical body. And so, as it were, sentences sounded from the individuality that had passed through the gate of death, which I will read aloud.

You will notice that in the first three lines the dead personality uses a word that cannot really be justified when used by an individuality that has already discarded the physical body; but that is not the point. The word, which refers to the physical heart, is meant in a symbolic sense. Heart here stands for the etheric organ of feeling. We have here the case of an individuality that has passed through the gate of death, which summarized its strongest experience before death as a result of life, in order to say to itself: I am now in a certain situation to experience the nature of my self, how this nature of my self arises for me by dealing with it with the understanding that I have gained in my feeling recognition through spiritual science. So it was that this individuality, who had at most passed through the gate of death two hours earlier, allowed something to resound from within that sounded in such a way that I must say that the words were put in such a way that I myself did nothing to them, I only took in the words that came from this self. These words then served as the beginning and the end when I had to give the funeral oration at the cremation. They are read:

In world-wide I will carry
My feeling heart, that it may become warm
In the fire of sacred power;

In world-thoughts I will weave
My own thinking, that it may become clear
In the light of eternal becoming-life;

I will dive into the depths of the soul
With devoted thoughts, that they may become strong
For the true goals of human endeavor.

In God's rest I strive so,
With struggles and worries,
Preparing my self for the higher self;

Longing for a peace that is joyful to work for,
Sensing the existence of the world in my own existence,
I would like to fulfill my duty as a human being;

Then I may live in anticipation
of my destiny,
which will grant me a place in the spiritual realm.

Let us hear here, as it were, from the self, what the self feels within itself, through what it has become by filling itself with spiritual-scientific feeling. It is important to bear in mind that we are dealing here with a personality who had reached a ripe old age in this physical life and that the possibility of wanting to characterize the self is connected with this attainment of a higher age, that the self only after after death expresses itself so completely in its own being that one has nothing to do but to observe it, to lose oneself completely, to surrender, to identify with the being, that one can let it express itself completely.

It was different in another case. There one had to deal with a relatively early death. To look at such a case, especially the events of the time urge us, since so many people today pass through the gate of death at a young age. In the case I am talking about, it was not the cause that is the cause in many cases today, but it was an early death. When death occurs so early that one can say: If the person had grown old, he would have lived for many decades more, then we are dealing with an etheric body that will indeed be laid aside, but it is such that it could still supply the physical body with forces for many decades. Someone who dies in such a way that he could have lived for decades hands over to the spiritual elementary world an etheric body that is still unused. Countless such unused etheric bodies are now entering the spiritual world. When we say that we have great hope for the age that is developing from the womb of our events, based on spiritual science, it should be borne in mind that those who are now passing through death will be witnesses in the spiritual world for a spiritual work and will send forces into earthly life through their individuality. But their etheric body is still there as something second, something special, it is unused. A large number of such etheric bodies will represent a force that will have an effect on people who will live when peace has been restored, and they will be helpers so that the materialistic world view can be replaced by a spiritual one.

We can become attached when we experience people dying at a young age and we can then, so to speak, perceive what is happening.

In the second case, where again the karma of our spiritual current led to me having to speak at the cremation of a personality who had passed through the gate of death, it was the case that a long time had passed between the onset of death and the cremation, from Wednesday to Monday. By then, this etheric body had already been separated, and for my occult observation, I had lost the etheric body, so to speak, on the night before I had to speak; the etheric body had been lost for the observation. The individuality had already been separated from the astral body and I. Here the observing soul was confronted with an astral body and I, and the impulse arose to introduce and conclude the eulogy with words that had something to do with individuality. Something did not arise that the individuality itself had expressed. Because it was released from the etheric body and the physical body, it was possible to put into words, which I believe were precise, the whole way this individuality had been here on earth. Again, these words are not the way I made them, but the way an inspiration impulse made them, the way they had to be, the way they characterize the individuality that had passed through death. They arose as the inspiration of the contemplating soul, yielding to the impression of the personality that had passed through the gate of death. The words arose:

You came among us.
Your gentle nature moved
Spoke from your eyes of silent strength
Calm that soulfully animated,
flowed in the waves
with which your gaze
to things and to people
carried your inner weaving; –
And this being was imbued with it
your voice, which eloquently
through the nature of the word more
than in the word itself
revealed what dwells hidden
in your beautiful soul;
But the part of devoted love of compassionate people
revealed itself wordlessly in full – –
This being, of noble, silent beauty,
told of the receptive feeling of the creation of the soul of the world.

These words were spoken at the cremation, and the peculiar thing turned out to be that the moment, which could only be called a moment of awakening, occurred when the heat of the furnace was just taking hold of the personality's physical body. And so, for this personality that had passed through the gate of death, there was a moment when it was possible to develop consciousness, and not during the funeral ceremony, but when the heat surrounded the body that had been given over to the fire. Then unconsciousness set in again. After being interrupted by unconsciousness, such moments of consciousness can occur again until full consciousness sets in some time after death. In this case it was particularly clear how consciousness works when a person has passed through the gate of death. This consciousness perceives time in a different form than a person perceives time when he lives here in the physical body. In such a case, it is particularly meaningful. The perception of time by someone who does not have a physical body can only be compared to our perception of space. Here in the physical body, we can always look back; what we have seen remains. If something has passed us by in time, we have to look back on the image in our memory, it has to rise up in our consciousness. This is not the case with someone who no longer has a physical body. The disembodied soul looks back as we do in space.

So the dead woman looked back at what had been said, as one looks back in space. What had been said now stood before her soul. It is precisely in such concrete cases that the peculiarity of the spiritual world becomes apparent. Now I just said that at the time when the words of the funeral oration were to be formed, I had, so to speak, lost the etheric body for the observation, but a second observation showed that it was precisely this etheric body that made it possible to have the inspiration that was shaped into these words. When I was able to find the ether body again - I mean for the observation - I became aware of where this ether body was when I shaped the words. It was in the night from Sunday to Monday. I said I had lost it, I only realized much later where it actually was: I was in it myself. It was a dissolving cloud. The ego and the astral body had already been separated. Because I was inside it, I did not perceive the aetheric body, like a cloud in which one is stuck; but what lived in it gave the inspiration to shape the words I read.

They provide an insight into the intimate secrets of the human soul's coexistence with the spiritual worlds. I would not dare to say so out of hand if this had only occurred in a single case, but it was confirmed to me again in the third case. There I was again in the same situation of shaping words that characterized the individuality of this third personality who had passed through the gateway of death and was part of our circle. The death of this personality had something particularly painful for our feelings on the physical plane, because it gave the best hopes with regard to the spiritual scientific work within our circle. This personality, during the time she lived here on earth, absorbed much of what can currently be called scholarship, became completely immersed in it and had the firm desire to do something that is necessary in our spiritual movement, namely to immerse oneself in what is currently called science, and to transform this science in the soul itself in such a way that it gives birth again on a higher level to spiritual-scientific insight. Not everyone can do this, but it is one of the necessities of our spiritual science. Concordance between science and spiritual science can often lead someone who is unfamiliar with spiritual science to a conviction, but it is necessary to become imbued with contemporary science, and when this is there, to ascend with it in a living way in spiritual science. One then comes to a certain point where one feels so surely, so knows so surely in one's inner experience the agreement between what present science gives and what spiritual science gives that one can no longer be misled by anything that comes from the present materialistic culture of our time.

When this personality passed through the gate of death, the necessity arose again to shape the beginning and end of the funeral oration in a certain way at the cremation, and the special impulse arose, precisely in the face of this individuality, to point out the bridge that exists for our spiritual science movement between the physical plan and the spiritual world. For our feelings on the physical plane, it is particularly painful that this personality was taken from us young. But the spiritual current in which we live would not be able to awaken as much hope as it must awaken if we were not sure that the forces flowing in spiritual science come not only from those who live on the physical plane, but that such forces also come from those who have already passed through the gate of death and are equipped with spiritual science. Thus the soul was faced with the necessity of emphasizing: At this moment you are given a great thing where you have gone through death: a call to remain a loyal co-worker even now that you have gone through the gate of death.

Especially those who take spiritual science seriously must count on those who are no longer on the physical plane as real co-workers.

Thus it became necessary to coin words, in the coining of which I am, so to speak, completely uninvolved, which resulted from a necessary impulse in the way I will read them now. You will see in a moment what the significance of such coined words is. The words are as follows:

A hope that brings us happiness:
So you entered the field,
Where the earth's spiritual blossoms,
Through the power of the soul's being,
Want to show themselves to research.

Your pure love of truth was your longing was kindred;
To create from the light of the spirit
Was the earnest goal of life
You strove for tirelessly.

You cultivated your beautiful gifts
in order to walk the bright path of spiritual knowledge,
unperturbed by the contradictions of the world,
as a faithful servant of the truth,
with sure steps.

You practiced your spiritual organs
So that they bravely and persistently
On both sides of the path
You pushed error aside
And created space for truth.

To reveal your true self
To create pure light,
So that the soul's solar power
radiates powerfully within you,
was your life's concern and joy.

Other concerns, other joys
hardly touched your soul,
because knowledge appeared to you as light,
which gives meaning to existence,
as life's true value.

A hope that makes us happy:
So you entered the field,
Where the earth's spiritual blossoms
Through the power of the soul's being
Would like to show themselves to research.

A loss that deeply hurts us,
So you disappear from the field,
Where the spirit's seeds of creation Matured in the womb of the soul, Your sense of the spheres.

Feel how we look lovingly Into the heights that now call you Towards other work. Give your strength from spiritual realms To your abandoned friends.

Hear our souls' request,
Sent to you in trust:
Here for our earthly work we need
Strong power from spiritual realms,
Which we thank our dead friends for.

A hope that makes us happy,
A loss that deeply pains us:
Let us hope that Thou, far-near,
Unlost, to our life dost shine
As a soul star in the realm of minds.

It was sometime during the following night when, as if it were an answer, it sounded to me from the being in question, not from its consciousness, but from its essence, so that one could immediately feel it as an answer to the words. Not as if the individuality had said it from the consciousness. The individuality resounded as if in sounds:

To shape my self to a revelation
of pure light,
That the soul's solar power
might radiate powerfully within me
Was my life's care and joy.

Other worries, other joys,
They hardly touched my soul,
Because knowledge appeared to me as light,
Which gives meaning to existence,
As the true value of life.

Only now did I realize that this was only a rearrangement of the two verses, a rearrangement of the second person into the first. From this example you can see how a correspondence takes place between the soul that dwells here in physical life and the soul that has passed through the gate of death. I would like to draw special attention to the fact that such things are given in such a way that the words cannot be changed, and you can see that I was not at all aware why the words of the two verses were so shaped. I only realized this from the answer that came the following night from the soul that had passed through the gate of death. We must get used to the fact that in this respect too, we cannot have direct feelings towards the spiritual worlds that are taken from our experiences here in the physical world. Note that much depends on this if we are to gain a true understanding of the relationship with the spiritual world. As a small example, I could also mention something that was taken from a completely different side. When these difficult days began, these formulas that we are using now were given as if from the spiritual worlds, which I also use today to guide the souls of those who are in the fields of the events or have passed through the gate of death:

Spirits of your souls, watchers in action,
your wings may bring
the love of my soul imploring
to the spheres (earthly people) entrusted to your care, so that, united with your power,
my plea may help to radiate to the souls that seek them lovingly.

It says: “Spirits of your souls.” I had to experience in Berlin that someone objected that this is grammatically incorrect, and now one does not know in the second line what the “your wings” refer to, because if one says, “spirits of your souls,” one turns to those who live as human beings, but one still turns to the spirits of those who live there. So the pedant might think that one should say, “Spirits of their souls.” Yes, we have to get used to the fact that in the spiritual world, the grammar that applies quite naturally to the sensual world is not always adhered to, that one must have more flexibility in the soul. One turns: “Spirits of your souls,” but in the second line it is understood that one does not turn to one or a number of people, that one turns to the protecting spirits there. Grammar is not the deciding factor. We must realize that in the higher worlds everything is much more mobile, that one does not need to divert one's conception of the human being when one turns to the protecting spirit. He is much more closely connected with the man himself than two people here. There one must apply physical grammar, because there need not be such a connection between two physical people as between the protecting spirit and the human being. So one could say: It is precisely through these given words, which are contestable before physical grammar, that something is given that is peculiar to the higher worlds. When one receives such things from the higher worlds, the words become teachings. Sometimes one only understands such things much later, and sometimes this learning is not as easy as prying into grammar, which is not a great art. We have to find our way into such an intimate relationship with the spiritual world. Even in the presentation of the higher worlds, it is important that one does not grasp them with the rough word combinations that one has acquired here in the physical world, so that it is often quite easy to find a presentation of the higher worlds, in which the realm of the spirits of form loses its special power, contestable. Crossing the threshold, we enter the realm of the spirits of movement. Even the style must become more flexible there. The spirits of form are for the world around us. Style must adapt to the realm of the spirits of movement. The time will come when we will find our way into such things, and we must not believe that we can truly depict what is mobile and fluid in the spiritual world with a style that is suitable for the physical world.

I wanted to explain a few things about the relationship between the human soul and the spiritual worlds, using specific cases that our social karma has brought us into contact with. Even more than in abstract descriptions, such concrete involvement in individual conditions of the spiritual worlds, and above all, we can develop a feeling that through our spiritual scientific movement, a living interaction between the physical world and the higher world must gradually come about. After the manifold experiences that have had to be made in recent times, it can be said that the hopes that certain things will already happen in relation to our spiritual movement can only be firmly held inwardly if one is certain that those who have already passed through the gate of death will be our helping co-workers. This does, however, require that we take the content and intention of our spiritual science with the utmost seriousness.

In summary, I would like to say something that has already been discussed in detail in the cycle in Vienna about life between death and a new birth, which is important to consider. One can say, because one must use certain words that serve the physical life: After death, the human being is in a kind of unconscious, sleeping state. Then he awakens, but “awakens” is not quite the right word. It seems as if one comes to a kind of consciousness upon awakening. This is not the case. When the human being has discarded the etheric body, he does not have too little or sleeping consciousness, he has too much consciousness. He has a kind of overflowing consciousness. Just as one cannot see when blinded by flooding light, so there is too much consciousness after death. We are completely flooded by infinitely effective consciousness, and it must first subside to the degree that we have acquired after our development in the physical world. We have to orient ourselves in the abundance of consciousness. What is called “waking up” is only an accustoming to the much higher degree of consciousness that we enter after death. It is a dimming of consciousness to the degree that we can bear.

Another thing is that, I would say, every observation shows more and more how, for certain conditions of existence, the experience in the spiritual worlds is exactly the opposite of the experience in the physical world. This is also the case with the one I am about to mention. Between birth and death, no one actually remembers their birth without higher knowledge. For no one is it a matter of their own observation. If you were to listen to those people who say they believe nothing except what their five senses give them, you might object: Then you cannot believe that you were once a small child either. You only believe that from the following two reasons: Because you see that all other people begin their lives that way, you conclude that it was the same for you. That is only an analogy, or the others have told you. - It is known through communication and not through observation that one also enters life through birth. No one realizes that this is only an analogy. One would have to say: I cannot know from my own observation about the origin of this physical body. When a person looks back in physical life, he does not see as far as his birth. It is different between death and a new birth. This is shown by the very case in which the inner impulse arose to send the one who had passed through the gate of death such words that had something to do with his self, that characterized him. This impulse comes from the urge to serve the one who has gone through the gate of death, to make it easier for him to have what he needs as soon as possible: an unobstructed view of the moment of death. For just as little as one looks back on birth in physical life, it is indispensable to look back on death between death and a new birth. Death is always there in retrospect, only from the spiritual side it looks different. From the physical point of view it may have been a terrible death, but from the other side it is the most glorious event one can look back on. It shows the glory of the spirit's victory over the physical by freeing itself from it. This is one of the most beautiful experiences one has between death and a new birth in retrospect. This is another example of how the physical world and the spiritual world are opposed to each other.

We are gradually getting to know the peculiarities of the spiritual world. These are aspects that I wanted to develop before you today in aphorisms. Another aspect is indirectly significant for things that we are experiencing now: the aspect that in the case of a person who could have lived here for a long time under normal circumstances, an unused etheric body stands as an individuality alongside the individuality. The dissolution of the etheric body only takes a short time in older people. We are always surrounded by such as yet unresolved etheric bodies. We are living towards a time when this will be particularly noticeable, because a kind of atmosphere is formed indirectly from these etheric bodies, the like of which has not yet been seen in the development of the earth. One might think that something similar has already occurred in earlier wars, but things are changing because people in the past went through death differently. There were not as many people in the past who were surrounded only by material thinking as there are now. This justifies the fact that these etheric bodies will give off spiritual impulses. Furthermore, there will be people here on earth who will feel and sense this. I have already hinted at this in the lectures I would like to call the lectures on current events. What our time wants to teach us is that, in addition to the spiritual shallowness, we also need to deepen what will later appear as the accompanying phenomena. Should we not be deeply saddened to learn that in our time, which considers itself so enlightened in terms of logic, where scientific culture has spread through all kinds of popular channels to the widest circles, that something can take hold again in the widest circles that we must regard as a judgment born of passion?

Those who follow the voices of those who consider Central Europe to be locked up in a large fortress will already have realized what this passion is doing to people's souls. One need only look to the west and northwest, where one can stand in amazement at what human passionate judgment has brought about. Better newspapers will be particularly instructive there. How is it shouted out by these or those: We did not want this war! — How is it senselessly blamed for this war by those who are hostile to the German essence, to that area that had the least reason for this war: the Central European one.

In this respect, the way in which German character has developed makes it objectively possible for the German people to achieve a kind of national self-awareness that is sorely lacking in other nations. It will certainly be a long time before most people, especially outside of Central Europe, will be able to see the situation clearly enough to get past the most foolish judgments of the present. For us, who are part of a spiritual movement that not only wants to pass on theory, it should be clear that an objective judgment can be gained in the face of such difficult events and that we can clarify many things in the present precisely because we live in these fateful days. How easily some short-sighted minds criticize what belongs to the impulses, to the core of our spiritual science. Painful things have had to be experienced in this field in recent months. There is a spiritual science movement that says it is lovingly working to want to reach people without distinction of race and so on. One can say: How does what I have put forward in this time relate to this? Before these difficult, fateful days befell us, I warned against interpreting the principle of equality in such a way that it is transformed into something completely abstract. Do you remember how I often said: When people come and say that Buddhists, Mohammedans, and Christians are only different forms of one being, that is like saying: salt, sugar, pepper are all food additives, so it doesn't matter what I take – and sprinkle sugar into soup and beer because it is a food additive. It may be convenient to apply such a principle in such an abstract way, but for the one who is seriously seeking, it cannot be the point. If we lovingly engage with the essence of the individual European nations, we come to recognize that the soul of the people speaks to the sentient soul in the Italians, to the intellectual soul in the French, to the consciousness soul in the British, and to the I in the Germans. We do not come to understand these things by pouring love over everything in the abstract. The essential thing in our movement is that the human soul, while recognizing national peculiarities, wants to rise to the general human level. Spiritual science can bring it about that someone born in Britain this time says: “I have recognized that I have the folk soul speaking particularly through the consciousness soul, through that which regulates the soul's relationship to the physical plane, which makes the human being suitable for being material. When he recognizes this, he recognizes that he must discard what stands in his way from his nationality if he wants to rise to the general humanity. This knowledge always helps, and it is important to recognize what is peculiar to the individual national entity. When the member of Russian culture will say to himself: The peculiarity of the national soul is that it hovers like a cloud over the individual, that the individual, in chaotic thinking, looks up to the national soul, and thus relies on finding his way into the productive life of other nations – then he will find his way. Those who recognize the essence of the Russian national soul through spiritual science will say: Why am I Russian? The strength that I have acquired as a result, I have to absorb the strength of other nations.

The German will recognize through spiritual science — he needs to understand this in all objectivity and humility — that he is predestined to seek the universal human through his nationality through what the national soul speaks to his ego. That he perceives what leads him beyond nationality, that is the national essence of the German. The specifically national essence of the German consists in this, that through nationality it is driven beyond the nation into the general human essence. Therefore the transition from German idealism to spiritual science is to be found in the flowing of German idealism into spiritual science. It is necessary to struggle through to a concrete grasp of spiritual realities. Spiritual science makes it possible to grasp these things concretely. When one learns that a Frenchman like Renan says that what he has received in German culture seems to him like higher mathematics compared to the lower mathematics of the experiences of other peoples, then what characterizes the German essence is being stated. It is our fate to have to recognize this. We must recognize it, we cannot help but recognize it, but with the same objectivity we must recognize that it is our destiny, if we are true Germans, to progress to spiritual life, just as it is necessary for the British to shed materialism in order to enter into the spiritual. Different tasks arise for different nations from their national character. It is particularly important for the German to immerse himself in the spiritual worlds of that which flows through German culture. For the Russian, there is no such thing as a national culture. For him, there is only the possibility of gaining the strength of blood that makes it possible for him to accept the essence of others. It turns out that the German essence underwent an important development in the evolution of the folk soul.

The folk souls, like human beings, undergo development. Between 1530 and 1550 something special happened to the Italian folk soul. Before that time this culture was not yet as separate from the rest of Europe as it was afterwards. Before that time the folk soul worked in the soul; afterwards it reached beyond the soul, shaping the physical into the national. The human being progresses to becoming independent of the physical. The folk soul does the opposite. It first affects the soul, then the body, so that the Italian folk soul before the 16th century only affected the soul, but later it reaches beyond the merely soulful into the physical, shaping the nervous system, shaping the etheric body, so that the human being is also defined and identified in terms of the physical. The human being becomes more rigid, more closed to the other cultures.

For the French national soul, such a point in time occurs in the middle of the 17th century. At that point, the national soul begins to shift from the soul to the body, making the nation rigid. For the British, this only happens from the middle of the 17th century onwards, and Shakespeare does not yet belong to an age when the national soul shifts to the body. In the period between 1750 and 1850, a kind of spillover from the German folk soul from the spiritual to the physical takes place, but it withdraws again. In Western peoples, the folk soul floats higher at first, then descends into the physical. That which previously descended into the physical then rose again into the spiritual. The descent occurred between the mid-17th and 18th centuries. As a result, the German national soul remains more flexible. It does not remain down there permanently, it goes up and down, takes hold of people and then releases them again.

These are things that will only be fully understood in the future. We must say that we cannot empathize enough with the present difficult time, with all its greatness and significance, in the depths of our soul. These present events must be infinitely significant for anyone who is interested in the spiritual essence that is weaving through the world. When people reflect on the causes that led to the present war events, one thing will become clear: the antagonism between the national souls has contributed to these present war events, but no matter how hard someone in the future will search for the causes on the physical plane, they will always find something that does not clarify the matter, because the causes do not lie on the physical plane, but because one can say about these events: spiritual individualities, spiritual impulses have an effect. Only when mankind will recognize this, will one speak reasonably about the causes that have led to these events. One will recognize that people were only the tools through which good and evil forces have worked. To come to this judgment, it is necessary to be unprejudiced, by penetrating ourselves with what spiritual science can be to the innermost part of the soul, not just to the intellect.

It may be important at some point to realize how much of what the British world has taken part in is really intimately connected with the national character. Then one will have to recognize something that has been impressed on me since July, before the war had even begun. Then one could hear different judgments. I am reporting objectively and would like you to disregard the personal aspect. It occurred to me that the world was in danger because such a terrible fool was in charge of foreign affairs in London. The world considers Grey to be a clever, perhaps shrewd man. I could never consider him to be anything other than a fool, from intuitive impressions, and today I must consider him to be an especially foolish person, chosen by Ahrimanic powers because he could cause particular harm through his ignorance of things. It is not really possible to prove that such a person is a fool on the basis of external reasons. Yesterday I bought a book and found a letter in it that a colleague of Grey's wrote. I only learned about the letter yesterday, but I have considered Grey a fool chosen by Ahriman to wreak havoc since July. It is interesting for us to see how the writer of the letter characterizes his cabinet colleague: “It is very entertaining for us, who have known Grey since the beginning of his career, to watch him impress his continental colleagues. They seem to suspect something in him that is not there at all. He is one of the Kingdom's most outstanding sports anglers and a reasonably good tennis player. He has no political or diplomatic abilities, unless one were to recognize a certain tiresome dullness of speech and a strange tenacity as such. Earl Rosebery once said of him that he makes such a concentrated impression because he never has an idea of his own that could distract him from a task that has been handed to him with precise instructions. When a somewhat temperamental foreign diplomat recently expressed admiration for Grey's quiet manner, which never revealed what was going on in his mind, a cheeky secretary said, “If a clay money box is filled to the top with gold, it certainly doesn't rattle when you shake it. But if there isn't a single penny in it, it doesn't rattle either. With Winston Churchill, a few nickels rattle so loudly that it gets on your nerves; with Grey, not a single rattle. Only the person holding the box can know whether it is completely full or completely empty!” That was impertinent, but well said. I believe that Grey has a very decent character, even if a certain stupid vanity may occasionally tempt him to get involved in matters that hands that insist on absolute cleanliness would do better to stay away from. But his excuse is always that he is incapable of overlooking and thinking through a matter on his own. He, who is in no way a schemer in his own right, can, as soon as a clever schemer uses him, appear to be the most accomplished schemer. This has always been a temptation for political schemers to choose him as their tool, and it is only thanks to this circumstance that he owes his present position."

This is an example of how one can err if one does not try to look at things objectively. In this personality, who is not distinguished by particular cleverness but by personal angling skills that have nothing to do with the skills that matter, one sees the Ahrimanic powers at work, which necessarily had to work from the inner side for the events to occur. We shall gradually realize that in the face of these events in particular, we must be clear about how the supersensible must be acknowledged in both good and evil. If we try to understand these events on the basis of what can be observed on the physical plane, we will not be able to understand them. One will realize how the various impulses have streamed across, how for a long time the East has been preparing what gave the impulse for these events, how from those things that can be observed in Eastern Europe, the factors developed which must necessarily one day ignite the torch of war, how the present moment brought the war because the western factors allowed themselves to be drawn into the arson from the east, for reasons that can only be recognized if one goes into the important causes. It will be important that precisely these historical events will force people, if they want to recognize the causes, to look to the supersensible, not to remain on the physical plane, because otherwise they will be able to argue for a long time. We shall have to recognize that it is more necessary for the man of letters than for other men to place himself on a surer horizon than that which can arise from the experience of the affairs of the physical world.

How narrow the physical horizon can become has been evident for years. For many, historical consideration only began in July. Even some in our circles made strange judgments. The elements of what I want to say have already been given in the cycle 'The Mission of Individual National Souls' in Kristiania. It also says that what wants to come forth in the sixth post-Atlantic culture is preparing itself in the East. We live here in the fifth culture. If you think abstractly, that humanity is rising higher and higher from the fifth culture to the sixth and seventh cultures, then you may get a stiff neck. But such penetration is not the progress of the cultural development of humanity. Up to the fourth culture, there was a repetition of the development of the earth. The fifth culture is the one that matters; it is something new that has been added, that must be carried over into the sixth age. The sixth culture will sink into decadence; it will be a descending culture. This must be taken into account. Connected with this is the fact that a mind like Solowjow, which in certain respects has outgrown the Russian national character with its habitual traits, has sunk into the Western world, that his philosophy is Western, although it is enclosed in the temperament of the East, but in the way the sentences flow, it reveals the Russian. It would be foolish to say that someone steeped in Western European culture could be given something that went beyond that Western European culture.

These have again been only brief sentences, but you will hear the appeal to our spiritual science to try to use this difficult time to see with concreteness and to grasp with concreteness that which can really flow into our feeling when spiritual scientific ideas flow into this our feeling. In the future, our spiritual science will have to prove itself precisely by finding its way through the raging passions of our time.

I am well aware that since the beginning of this difficult time for us, I have spoken neither here nor elsewhere about these matters in any other way than so that one can advocate these matters before an objective world view. But what all could one hear! From what has happened in the last few months, one can also learn how things stand with regard to much of what is being criticized in the outside world. One often had to hear the judgment that a large part of the members only listened to the judgment of one person, that it was all based on blind trust. — How far that blind trust went could be seen at that moment.

About what was said about me, one could hear: He uses his occult abilities to waste them on checking the Wolffian telegrams. — Strange trust for someone who is in our movement to say that I use the truth of the Wolffian telegraph office in favor of the enemies of Germany! That is only one of countless judgments. There you see how what is now flooding the world in desires and passions also plays a role in spiritual science. This must not deter us from fathoming the truth with regard to what it is our duty to emphasize now. You will be able to see that.

Basically, it has always been as it is now. What has been said now has always been said and done. I have emphasized before that this Theosophical movement, which has become the Anthroposophical movement, never wanted to develop in any other way than in the direct progression of Central European culture. It was never a matter of being taken in tow by someone. On the English side, when this was noticed, mistrust was immediately aroused against these Central Europeans, who were not the imitators of what was given by British Theosophy. The sense of truth had to reject the British view of the Christ problem, it was of such a nature that the belief could arise that Christ would re-embody himself in the physical body, because one could not understand a spiritual coming of the Christ. This showed the impossibility of the two directions going together. In English theosophical magazines you will now find letters from Mrs. Besant, who in every way calls upon the world of Theosophy to work against Germany. There you will find a subsequent explanation of why the German Theosophical movement had to break away from the English one at that time. Mrs. Besant says: ” Now, looking back, in the light of the German methods, as revealed to us by the war, I see that the long-standing efforts to capture the Theosophical Society and place a German at its head, the anger against me when I thwarted those efforts, the complaint that I had spoken about the late King Edward VII as the protector of European peace instead of giving honor to the Kaiser – that all this was part of the widespread campaign against England, and that the missionaries were tools, skillfully used by German agents here (in India) to push through their plans. If they could have turned the Theosophical Society in India, with its large number of officials, into an armed force against the British government and trained it to look to Germany as its spiritual leader, instead of standing, as it always has, for the equal alliance of two free nations, then it could gradually have become a channel for poison in India.

[Gap in the transcription] This personality has come up with what I wanted at the time. - There you can see the causes of why this war between Germany and England broke out. But you can also see that our spiritual struggle has preceded it. Many things that had to happen there will perhaps be understood differently now.

The assertion of occultism [...] is a double-edged sword. It must be said again and again that a sense of truth must intensively permeate the souls who, through occultism, want to bring salvation and not disaster into the world. How this is connected, what must penetrate our soul through the events of the time, what we, as occult students, should learn from the events of the time, can be revealed to us by the thought: When peace returns, there will be unused etheric bodies in the spiritual world that want to bring down forces. From souls that are stimulated by spiritual science, forces should also go up to connect with the forces from above. Then, for the progress and salvation of humanity, what spiritual science can be will be significant. If there are really quite a number of souls that feel this in truth and objectivity, if many souls with thoughts inspired by the spiritual world view long to reach up into the spiritual worlds, then the difficult times of our time will also have value for these souls. That is why I would like to express the connection of our spiritual striving today through the words:

From the courage of the fighters,
From the blood of the battles,
From the suffering of the abandoned,
From the people's sacrificial deeds
The fruit of the spirit will grow
Guiding souls, spirit-conscious
Their minds into the spiritual realm.

In the first two lectures with which I began this winter lecture series, I tried to use the impulses that the great events of the time in which we live can give us to tie in with the essence of German spiritual culture as it presents itself in its great personalities. What I tried to elucidate through these reflections was that it is in the nature of this spiritual culture to become more and more imbued with the consciousness of the reality of the spiritual, of eternal existence. To a certain extent, I will try to give a special chapter from what spiritual scientific reflection has brought about in our time, in order to gain a basis for what should form the content of tomorrow's lecture: a reflection on the nature of the European folk souls. In doing so, I would like to suggest, at least with a few traits taken from spiritual science, what the latter has to say, from its point of view, to help us understand what is happening around us.

The contemplation that is to be undertaken today about the human soul in life and death is, after all, always close to man as one of the greatest riddles of life – in our time, especially so – where we see the question of life and death way, where so many are intensely affected by this question through the reality of existence, where we see that — as it were through the facts — the noblest sons of the people are confronted with this question in every hour of their existence. In the lectures I have been privileged to give here over the years, I have often pointed out that we are living in a time when questions such as the nature of the human soul, the fate of the human soul and of man in general, and similar questions enter into a scientific approach, into an approach that is demanded by the development of that other scientific field that has been so greatly perfected in the last two to four centuries: the field of natural science. To place what can be known about the soul-spiritual in a truly scientific way alongside what has been scientifically conquered for humanity, that has often been described here as the task of spiritual science; and it has also been said that it should come as no surprise if this spiritual-scientific approach is still rejected by the vast majority of people today. This fate is shared by spiritual science with everything that wants to enter human spiritual and cultural development as something new, and it also shares it with natural science itself, which in its time appeared in exactly the same way, met with opposition after opposition, and which first had to prove - but could only prove it after centuries - what it is called upon to achieve for human development. Spiritual observation must relate to what we call knowledge and science in a completely different way to that of natural science. In order for spiritual contemplation to be called scientific in the true and best sense, it must proceed differently, it must approach the human being in a different way than what constitutes the essence of the scientific approach. In the scientific approach, we first turn our gaze outwards to the facts of nature and life, and from the abundance of the manifold that comes to us, we recognize the laws of life. What reaches us through the senses becomes an inner spiritual experience in us, it becomes thought, concept, idea. But who does not feel that with this ascent from the full contemplation of external diversity to the clarity — but also to the abstractness — of ideas and natural laws, the human soul with its inner experiences actually moves away from what one could call reality? We have the fullness of nature before us; we appropriate it in science, but we feel how, in principle, we present concepts and ideas that contain the laws of nature for us, and we feel how thin, one could say reality-less, we are in the face of external reality. And so we ascend from the abundance of external reality, which is spread out before our senses, to the — I would say — ethereally thin soul experience that we have when we have taken possession of the laws of nature in our world of ideas. In a sense, we distance ourselves from nature and its abundance; but we strive for this distance because we know that we can only recognize nature and its laws by distancing ourselves from it. This is the highest thing we strive for in science: the inner soul experience in ideas and thoughts.

Spiritual research must take exactly the opposite path if it is to be scientific. The ultimate consequence of the inner experience of science in relation to external nature is preparation — merely preparation — for the knowledge of the spiritual, of the soul; and it would be a complete mistake to believe that spiritual science could proceed in the same way as natural science. What natural science ultimately strives for is the preparation for spiritual science: living in inner soul experience, immersing oneself in that which strengthens the soul inwardly and which it cannot obtain from external nature. In short, knowledge and science can only be a preparation for what one ultimately comes to: to beholding, to perceiving the spiritual world. One could say: in natural science, one strives for knowledge and science; in spiritual science, one prepares oneself through knowledge and science for what is to approach the soul, and everything that one can have in the way of knowledge and science remains, basically, in spiritual science an inner matter for the soul. But what the soul and spirit live through does not lead to something merely subjective, something that concerns only the individual soul of the person, but it leads to what is real, just as external nature is only real.

I have often pointed out the way in which this preparation for beholding, for the real inner experience of spiritual reality, is designed. I will do so again today from a certain point of view.

Only through this preparation can one lead the soul further and further, so that in the end what is spiritual reality spreads out around it. We leave nature; it is there. We go forward to the spirit. We must seek spiritual reality. We cannot start from it, it is not there at first; we can only prepare ourselves for its contemplation. But when we prepare ourselves inwardly for its contemplation, then it comes to us like a grace, spreading out of the spiritual twilight. We must acquire the ability to contemplate it.

The first thing needed to experience the human soul in its reality, so to speak, is an inner experience — not paying attention, not just thinking, but an inner experience of that which we otherwise have only as a reflection of external reality – the world of thoughts, the world of feelings – that which we otherwise feel within us when we confront the external world, and which we regard as a reflection of nature, as an image in which nature is embedded. We have to experience this intensely and powerfully by turning our gaze away completely from external reality, by making ourselves blind and deaf to external sensory reality; we have to experience it so that we allow it to be intensely present as the only inner reality in the soul. The natural scientist seeks to extract a law of nature as a thought from the outer reality of the senses. The spiritual scientist gives himself up to a thought, or to a thought imbued with feeling, in inner experience; he lets, as it were, neither the eye nor the ear send out into the outer reality, and lets the inner interweaving and interworking of the soul and turns his most intense attention to this inner experience; he forgets himself and the world and lives only in what he, as it were, lets rise in his empty but alert consciousness from the depths of his soul. And then the strange thing happens: the thought to which we devote ourselves with infinitely increased attention over a long period of time, this thought, the stronger it becomes through our inner strength, the weaker it becomes precisely in relation to what it contains; it becomes more and more transparent and transparent, more and more ethereal and ethereal. One could say: the more the spiritual researcher endeavors to be present in the thought, which is called inner thought concentration, the more the content of the thought fades away. The more we endeavor to make the thought firm and, as it were, visible by devoting ourselves to it, the more this devotion leads to the thought fading away more and more, as if dissolving in a fog, and then disappearing completely from consciousness. One could also say, expressing a principle of this inner experience: the more the thought is experienced in its sharpness in the soul, the more it gains in energy through our own activity, the more it dies in the soul. To put it in an epigrammatic way, we can say: in order for the thought to reach the goal of spiritual research, it must die in the soul; and in dying, it undergoes an inner destiny, the destiny that also has the seed that is sunk into the earth to rot. But from its rotting, the strength for a new plant arises. When thought dies in us in the concentration of thought, it awakens to a completely different life; and one does not discover this different life until thought has died in inner sharp concentration. One must stop thinking in order to let the soul plant, that which arises from thought, germinate within oneself.

And what then arises from the thought?

It is difficult to express in human language what arises from the thought, because human language is created for the external sense experiences and not for the internal soul experiences. Therefore, in a certain respect, one can only hint at the inner experiences that come into question. As the thought, made energetic, dies away, the soul inwardly feels a burgeoning power, a power of which it becomes aware and of which it knows at the moment it becomes aware : This is spiritual-soul power; this is something that is not tied to your body; something that you carry within you without the mediation of your nervous system and your brain. But in grasping not the thought but the power of thought, there arises, as if by an inner necessity, the question that presents itself like a flash of lightning: “Where has the thought gone? After all, it was basically you yourself, in that you gave yourself over to it in sharp concentration of thought. You lived in the thought, and when it dissolved and died, it carried you away with it. Where has it gone? And where have you arrived now?” — Here one must choose a comparison. Just as we carry the thoughts we have of external nature within us, just as we know we have the thoughts, so we immediately perceive a state in ourselves through which we say: the thought as you had it has died in your concentration of thought; but through this it has awakened to another life – and has taken you with it. You are now thought of in the spiritual world!

This is a harrowing, great, tremendously significant experience in the life of the spiritual researcher. For only in this way can one ascend into the spiritual world, by feeling itself grasped by it – as thought, if it were alive, would feel itself grasped by us. And basically, there is no other way to experience immortality than to appeal through our inner soul development to the invisible spiritual beings that always rule over us – just as the beings of nature visibly rule over us – and by appealing to our relationship with these spiritual beings, who begin to take the thought for themselves and think it for us the moment the thought fades. Now we begin to know: within the spiritual world there are beings whose existence goes beyond mere nature; as we human beings think with our thoughts, so our spiritual beings think, so these higher geniuses think the content of our soul. They hold us, they carry us; and through the fact that we are in them, our immortal being, which goes beyond our physical existence, is conditioned. We tell ourselves through spiritual science: If we cannot hold ourselves in death, if we lose what we have been able to create for ourselves in our existence between birth and death as inner experience through outer nature, then we pass through the gate of death and then see from the results of spiritual science that what is independent of us in the body is basically thought from higher beings.

It is not the case that what we call the spiritual world expands around us in a similar way to the external nature – which many expect. External nature stands before us; we stand before it and we look at it. When we ascend into the spiritual world, it is different. There the spiritual world penetrates into our own experience, which we have only transformed; there we do not think about the spiritual world, there we must inwardly experience how we are thought. We are in the same situation vis-à-vis the spiritual world as our thoughts about external reality are vis-à-vis our soul. This is basically the most surprising thing about the external reality. It is the experience of spiritual reality that is reversed compared to that of sensual reality, that we say to ourselves: in the face of spiritual reality, when we really experience it, we feel the way nature should feel in the face of sensual reality; we do not think about the spiritual beings; we experience that when we have risen to them, we are thought of and held by them. If you want to express it pedantically and scientifically, we become the object of the spiritual world. Just as we are the subject in relation to the outer reality of nature, so we become the object in relation to the spiritual world. And just as the outer reality of nature stands before us as an object, so we rise to an experience of spiritual reality in which we ourselves are the object; for the spiritual reality comes to us as a subject — or as a multitude of subjects.

This inner experience is very often, but always only by those who do not know it and who have no will to enter into it, presented as something subjective, as a purely personal matter. In a sense, the objection that is raised with this is quite correct. For what one can get to know in the first stage of spiritual research has a subjective character; this carries a personal nuance in all the struggles and inner conquests that one has to undergo in the process. And one can justifiably raise the objection that The researcher has the task of defining the limits of human knowledge, and he should be aware that what goes beyond the general limits imposed by external nature can basically only be subjective knowledge. The objection is justified, and none will recognize it as much as the spiritual researcher; but it is only valid up to a certain stage, and for the reason that in reality everything that one can go through subjectively, personally, is only preparation. In the moment when the preparation is sufficient, the objective spiritual reality comes to us as if by a grace that comes upon us as strength. What is experienced as preparation can basically be quite different for the most diverse people; but where they arrive in the end is the same for everyone. The objection is also often made that the spiritual researchers usually communicate what they communicate in a subjectively colored way; one says this about the facts of the spiritual world, the other that. That is quite right, but only right because many do not know how to communicate what presents itself through the grace mentioned, but because it is still their personal, subjective knowledge that they communicate, because they have not brought it to the point where the spiritual researcher arrives at a spiritual world that stands before him as objectively as the images of nature appear objectively before the human soul. The objections raised against spiritual scientific research — I have often said this here — are best understood by the spiritual researcher himself.

When the spiritual world is reached by the spiritual researcher after sufficient preparation, then this spiritual researcher knows himself as experiencing an invisible, supersensible world. Knowledge has ceased to have meaning for him. This knowledge has been completely transformed into direct experience, into the most immediate inner perception. And now the spiritual researcher experiences what becomes immediate truth for him. He knows: Now you live in the world in which you are always during the course of twenty-four hours; you now live in the spiritual realm, in the soul's existence, in which you are otherwise always unconsciously during sleep. Through spiritual research one gets to know the state of sleep, learns to recognize that in it the human soul is really outside its body, that it has the body before it, as one otherwise only has the objects of the external world before it. How does one learn to recognize this? By the fact that one is now really in a state in which one is otherwise during sleep, only in a completely opposite way. In sleep, consciousness is depressed and darkness spreads around us. But now, as a spiritual researcher, one can look at this state because one experiences it – but not unconsciously, as in sleep, but consciously. One knows: One is, by having come out of the body – for one consciously comes out of the body – inwardly united with the spiritual world; one has become one with the spiritual world. And now the question is answered: Why is it then usually the case that the soul is unconscious during sleep? Why is it outside of its body in this dull, dark state? This question is answered for the spiritual researcher by the fact that he can now recognize what has been removed through his preparation in his inner soul being, and what is there for the soul when it is asleep. For the spiritual researcher arrives at a battleground, at an inner battleground, through his preparation, and it is difficult to find words to express what comes to man with tremendous intensity, with an inner tragedy, when he wants to bring the thought to extinction and to rebirth in another sphere. What takes hold of the human soul and can lead to the human soul being torn apart is that, if you do not properly control yourself, an inner opposition, an inner rebellion arises against what you do inwardly. For at the moment when the thought extinguishes itself inwardly, one feels: the more one lives out of one's own consciousness into the consciousness of the invisible spiritual beings that rule in the invisible, the more inner forces are awakened that lead the most fierce opposition against this rising out of one consciousness into another. One senses something coming that does not want to be done. And that inner discord, that rebellion against one's own act becomes the tragic inner struggle that every true spiritual research has to fight intensely. All words are too weak to really express what has to be lived through. For when one is so inwardly absorbed, one feels as it were removed from oneself, when one is lifted up into another sphere, then that opposition asserts itself, which says: “You do not want to lose yourself, but you do everything to lose yourself. It is indeed death that you are preparing for yourself; you do not live with your being in you, you become the thought of another. You die within yourself!” And everything that can be mustered with an enormous will, in protest against inner action, asserts itself as an opposition to this absorption.

The next step is to gain control over this inner opposition, over what arises from the depths of the soul. One must first find it, which offers the possibility of getting out of this state. Once one has found it, the second step is to add to the concentration of thought, which, as it were, is subject to the second greatest spiritual law of the development of the human soul.

One asks oneself: What is it in you that rebels? What is it that rears up like a terrible rebel? And just as one builds on the thought by having it and making it disappear and resurrect in another sphere, so too must one now build on what one already has. And that which one has, which one must build on, is what one can call human destiny. This human destiny approaches us in such a way that we experience its inner blows – whether good or bad – as coming from outside. How far removed are we in human experience from taking what fate is as something other than what “happens” to us, what “coincidence” is in the best sense of the word? But one can begin to take it differently. And by beginning to take fate differently, one becomes a spiritual researcher. One can start by asking oneself: What are you actually in relation to your fate? You can look back into your past, which you can survey in your youth or in the years you have lived through so far, and survey your destiny; you can look at the individual events of this destiny, as far as you can grasp them, in retrospective investigation, and you can ask yourself the question: What would you actually be if this destiny with all its “coincidences” had not befallen you? And if you look into this question, which must now be a very personal one, very deeply, you realize: however the blows of fate may lie, whether they have turned out well or badly, what we are now, we are through all the good and bad blows of fate; we are basically nothing other than the result of our fate. One wonders: what are you, then, other than the result of this fate? If this or that had not affected you, it would not have shaken and stirred your soul, and so you would not be what you are now. And when you then survey your entire destiny in this way, you find that you, with your present self and all your experiences, are basically connected with destiny in the same way that the sum in an addition is connected with the individual addends and addents. Just as the sum in an addition is nothing other than what flows together through the individual addends, so we are basically nothing other than the sum of all the good and bad blows of fate we have suffered, and we grow together with our destiny by contemplating it. The first feeling we can then give ourselves over to is: You are one with your destiny. And whereas we used to separate ourselves from our destiny, whereas we used to stand apart as a special ego, now the special ego flows into the stream of these events of destiny. But it flows into it in such a way that it does not just stand there like a result in the stream of the present; but by gradually experiencing this flowing together, our destiny takes our ego – that which we are – with it, so to speak. We look back on the course of our destiny and, as we look at our destiny, we find our own activity in it; we grow into the becoming of our destiny. We not only feel at one with our destiny, but we gradually grow into our destiny to such an extent that we unite with destiny and its deed. And now it is again one of the most significant, great inner experiences that, looking back on a stroke of fate, we do not say to ourselves: it hit us, it happened to us by chance, but that we say to ourselves: we were already involved in this fate; through it we have made ourselves into what we are today.

Such a contemplation cannot be carried out only in thoughts, in ideas and images. Every step of such contemplation is filled with inner emotional, vital soul reality. The growing together with destiny is experienced; the I expands through destiny. And what expands – one learns to recognize it as something quite different from thought. As the other soul element, one learns to recognize it as present in us, as the will that is carried by feeling. We feel the thought as it concentrates, dies away and, as a force, rises up in a foreign spiritual world, from which we are, as it were, thought; our will, our will carried by feeling, grows back into the vastness of time, grows out of itself, so that it coincides with our destiny and becomes ever stronger. By feeling ourselves as one with our destiny, we do not experience dying in thought, but an ever-living and becoming-alive of the will. While the will is initially concentrated in the single point of our present, and we let it flow into our deeds and words, it expands, as from a small point of germination, in the stream of time to that which shines backwards, which, as it were, has created us ourselves. Our will – that is the second law that comes into play here – by giving itself to fate, by losing itself to fate, becomes stronger and stronger, more and more powerful. It moves from the state in which we usually have it to a completely different state.

The thought dies in order to be reborn in a new existence. With the will, we stand in such a way that at a certain moment it is dead to our destiny; it is dead to the vicissitudes of fate. If we guide the will in inner meditation about our destiny, it becomes stronger and stronger – by sacrificing itself and, as it were, becoming more and more devoted to our destiny, by recognizing that we ourselves live in our destiny. The thought passes from its strength to its dying away and to its revival in another sphere; the will passes from its momentary effect to an enormous breadth, in that it becomes the bearer of our entire destiny. And here is where experience really expands into a realm that is not accessible to outer experience. Outer experience is only accessible to the extent of experiences where consciousness has awakened, where outer memory begins: in the third or fourth year of a person's life. But when we really live through ourselves with our will, so that we no longer regard our destiny as something alien, as something that is “outside,” then we no longer remain — and with time this inner experience develops — with the consciousness of the soul in our present life. Then we look back into the far, far distance, look back to the states of our soul that preceded our birth or conception, look back to times when our soul itself lived in the spiritual world before entering into physical earthly existence, look back to a state of the soul when it prepared forces to take hold of our body. Thus, by preparing the will to undergo the opposite of what is experienced in the concentration of thought, we grasp our own life beyond birth and death. If we want to grasp the thought, we must detach ourselves from external reality, we must become blind and deaf to the external sensory reality, we must withdraw completely into ourselves; then the thought is transformed so that we ourselves are thought by higher consciousnesses. With the will, we must do the opposite: we must spread into what is otherwise only outside of us. With our thoughts we go within ourselves; with our will we go out of ourselves, go into our destiny and through the passage through our destiny we find the way into the spiritual worlds, where we, according to the reality of our soul, stand in the most comprehensive reality, in that reality which has already taken hold of us before we descended to physical existence. What I am expounding here, seemingly theoretically, is only a description of the inner experiences that the spiritual researcher has to undergo in order to ascend to the knowledge of the spiritual world, to come to the vision of the spiritual world. In relation to external nature, nature precedes and knowledge follows; in relation to spiritual nature, knowledge — that is, something that proceeds like knowledge — precedes as preparation; the vision follows. And now we recognize ourselves in what basically always lives in us, but which humanity will also have to look at scientifically if the development of culture is to continue spiritually; but in order for this to enter consciousness through the progressive forces of development, the scientific grasping of these processes must precede. Of course — one should not even have to mention this — we do not “make” the soul experience by grasping it in this spiritual-scientific way; but we perceive that which is always within us. But just as in the knowledge of nature, experience and knowledge develop out of observation, so in spiritual science, if human evolution is to progress, then the knowledge of spiritual processes must develop into an understanding of the spiritual world. And what one recognizes is that which is independent of the outer physical body, which, as it were, attracts it by descending from the spiritual world into the physical.

But even in our ordinary everyday life, we live out of our physical body, in that – for reasons that have been discussed here many times – we alternately enter into a state of sleep within the course of twenty-four hours. And when we consider the state of sleep, we can ask the question: Why does that which otherwise enters into spiritual consciousness become dulled during sleep? Why is there darkness around us then? And then, through spiritual science, we recognize precisely at the moment when the soul, through real preparation in concentration of thought and meditation, takes hold of itself powerfully, how this power enters the body, and we also recognize, because we then grasp the inner, immortal power, what obscures it in ordinary sleep, what makes it impossible to see spiritual reality in sleep when one is out of the body. When one examines this, when one beholds the spiritual reality, which is otherwise darkened, one notices: There is an excess of desire in the soul, an overgrowth of cravings, an emotional penetration of the most intense life of desire, a much stronger life of desire than is present when the soul submerges back into the body and wakes up. And what does the sleeping soul desire? This can be seen through spiritual scientific research: in sleep the soul desires to re-enter the physical body, into that which it has left, in an intense way. And because the desire to re-enter the body is overwhelmingly strong in the soul, this desire, like a fog that covers the clarity, extinguishes for the soul what it would otherwise perceive as belonging to the spiritual world: the consciousness of higher beings and their experiences, their — the soul's — inclusion in higher beings — and their inclusion in these before birth and death. But because the soul needs the forces that can come to it only from the spiritual world, just as the body needs the forces that can come from the world of atoms, it must immerge again and again into the spiritual world. But because it always desires to immerge into the body, its consciousness for the spiritual processes remains extinguished, even when it is free of the body in sleep. What a person experiences in his body, he will never be able to experience directly without this body. What he experiences in this body is that the little power he has in his soul to see the spiritual directly is overgrown in ordinary life by the desire for the body, and that this power in the body, where the soul has this power, becomes stronger and stronger. In the body, the soul learns to develop consciousness and self-awareness. That is the essence of this bodily life. The soul undergoes this life in the body, not as in a dungeon, not as a form of imprisonment, but as something necessary for its overall experience. For the soul can only become what it is meant to be through experience, and this experience changes from a dull to a brightly conscious one. But the conscious powers are first stimulated in the body. When the soul has, as it were, received its satisfaction, it devotes itself to being overshadowed by consciousness. This consciousness passes over into the soul as a power. And then — this is made especially clear by spiritual science — when the soul experiences 'becoming conscious' in the body, it retains the after-experience of this consciousness. Something comes into force that is higher than ordinary memory, but still similar to ordinary memory. In our lives, we remember through our ordinary memory what experiences we have gone through; we can call this up again in the soul. What the soul experiences in the body – this brightening of consciousness, this permeation with consciousness, this remembrance of self-awareness – occurs in the spiritual researcher when he undergoes what I have spoken of, so that he has the experience in his soul as in a memory. We must hold on to this.

The spiritual researcher lives in a higher spiritual world; he becomes, as it were, a thought of higher beings. But by permeating himself with what spiritual research can give, what would otherwise become rebellion becomes such an inner experience that he now, by living in the spiritual world, remains afflicted with a memory of his bodily life. Now he knows: this physical life does belong to you after all. And now this rebellion is stripped away by the memory that one has gained through the expansion of one's destiny. One knows: now one is not exposed to spiritual death in the spiritual world. For however much one may merge into the consciousness of higher entities, one lives oneself up in such a way that although the thoughts are grasped by the higher entities, we remain in the power of inner experience; we preserve ourselves, we retain ourselves when we live ourselves up into the higher consciousnesses, how the thoughts are preserved in the consciousness of the higher entities. What we keep in our memory as a memory is not reality until we bring it up from our memory. How it is down there in the dull subconscious is of no interest to man at first; there it has no reality. That is why I called it what the spiritual researcher then has, something like a higher memory, which is similar to memory after all. It is as if we live ourselves up into the consciousness of higher beings, as if all our thoughts retained independent reality, and the stream of our experiences is not just like a stream for our memory, which is there for us to draw up into our memory, but as if the experiences in their own spiritual reality are floating in it. Thus, through the experience that has been hinted at, through the memories, we live our way up into a higher world, but these memories are ourselves, grasping us in our own remembering. It is hardly different from a parable, but it expresses the fact when one says: by developing itself further through meditation, through concentration of thought and through outpouring of the will over fate, the human soul becomes something for those entities which it takes up in its consciousness and which it holds in the regions in which it lives after death and before birth. But just as thoughts only have an existence that is borrowed from us, so we live our way up into the “thought-being” of the higher consciousnesses, and in that they look back on us, they look back on us as on entities that have remained independent. By taking hold of ourselves in our destiny, we maintain ourselves in the consciousness of higher entities.

All that I express in this way is only the knowledge of the facts, which is always there for the soul. For what the spiritual researcher experiences is nothing other than the knowledge of what the soul experiences when it goes beyond the external reality through the gate of death. But as external natural events take place without our initially knowing about them, so too does death pass us by and makes the soul what it must make it. But in the course of human development, man must learn to know what death makes of the soul; through spiritual science he must acquire knowledge about what is called: the approach to the riddle of death. That is why what the spiritual researcher comes to in his inner soul development has been called, with a certain justification, “arriving at the gate of death”. From the observation made about sleep, it can be seen that the human soul, in its purely spiritual existence, is “dulled” by the desire for the body. When it passes through the gate of death and detaches itself from the body, it does not remain dulled by this desire. Rather, by withdrawing from the body, it is cured of the desire for the body; the desire pushes itself out of the soul, and the soul experiences being together with the spiritual world. The soul learns to experience itself in the spiritual world. But it would be dependent if it had not passed through death. The soul must pass through death because it is the greatest fact, the greatest experience for it. As we must enter the body through birth, so we must leave the body, pass through death, must die, in order to grasp ourselves as a self in the spiritual world through the experience of death and dying. We become a memory of higher consciousness by shedding the consciousness of the present that we have in the body; and after death, what our self gives us is presented to us in a different way than it is presented to us in the form of our self between birth and death. Between birth and death, we are so immersed in life that we lose our sense of self when consciousness is dulled, that we obscure what we experience in our sleep. Simultaneity exists between us and our body, but also between us and our self-awareness. After death, this changes. What in ordinary life between birth and death is, as it were, the ordinary spatial relationship to our spatial body, becomes after death a relationship to our being in time. After death, we look back on what we have gone through in our corporeal existence, and in this looking back, in this connection with our corporeal existence, we feel our self-awareness, we feel ourselves as selves. In time, the relationship to our self becomes. By looking at our spiritual surroundings, we merge into the higher beings in which we live. We retain our independence, our full self-consciousness after death, by immersing ourselves with our memories in the past life of the body — just as we immerse ourselves each day in the existence of space in order to arrive at our self-consciousness.

Thus the human soul passes through the full experience, which includes death, to which death belongs as something necessary; for to self-awareness in the spiritual world belongs the experience of death in the sense world. With this, we can at the same time suggest – but only suggest; in the following lectures this winter, this will be explained in more detail – how this experience of death presents itself. Of course, when a person passes through the gate of death, he will remain unconscious of what he is experiencing. But as he becomes more and more familiar with the spiritual world, he strengthens himself with the forces that can flow to him from the spiritual world, and purifies himself from the forces that, between birth and death, as the desire for the body; and in this inner purification from dullness, the retrospect into one's own self arises, and with it, the insight into the spiritual world arises. The experience after death occurs, so to speak, in such a way that the memory of the experience of death gradually arises in the human soul only as the human being penetrates into the spiritual world after death. But then, when looking back on earthly life each time, it is the case for the human being that his self-awareness blossoms just as it blossoms within the sensory world when he normally awakens.

What has been explained here cannot, of course, be proven externally. Therefore, it is very easy for those who do not want to engage in the true proof of the spiritual world to make objections. Anyone who demands that the spiritual world should be proved in the same way as the facts of external natural science and its laws, and who then, when that is not possible, is of the opinion that all talk about a spiritual world is only subjective talk, must be told: The spiritual world cannot speak to the general public in such a way that anyone can conduct the experiment, the observation. But that is why spiritual science does not remain mere subjective talk, but something that has value and significance for the general public; because there are methods, the workings of the soul, that lead every person to penetrate into the spiritual world when they go through them. Therefore, if someone says, “Your spiritual world is not clear to me; prove it to me according to the methods of external natural science,” the reply must be: You must obtain the proof for yourself by applying to your soul what is applicable to every human soul as the methods indicated by spiritual science!

What I have today only been able to discuss in general terms, about the thought, its dying away and its revival in another sphere, about the spreading of the will over fate, and how it must work there in detail, I have presented in more detail in my book “How to Know Higher Worlds”, which has now been extensively revised and is available in a new and I have also tried to present it in a different way in the book 'The Riddles of Philosophy', which has now been published as a second edition of my 'World and Life Views in the Nineteenth Century' with a 'sketchy outlook on an anthroposophy' as a result of the entire spiritual-philosophical development of the West.

Let it be emphasized once more: spiritual science does not give something that would not be there without it — just as natural science does not give something that would not be there without it. But the fact that man knows something presupposes that the facts of knowledge are there first. But when the facts are absorbed into consciousness, spiritual science will give the human soul what equips the soul with strength and power, as it will need it in the future. The soul has certainly had an awareness of its connection with the spiritual world in the past as well. But humanity continues to develop and evolve. And the results of spiritual scientific research will increasingly be part of what the soul will need for its inner strength, what will bring it to an awareness of itself, will be a real knowledge of the spiritual world, the world of the soul, which can only be imparted through research, just as knowledge of nature can only be imparted through research. Through this spiritual scientific research, the human soul is given what memory expands beyond the horizon, beyond which it can otherwise only roam. Today, this can only be hinted at. As the will expands to embrace destiny and the human being becomes one with destiny, and as the will in man grows to such strength that he grasps what blows of fate are in good and evil, and knows: I myself have formed all this —, memory grows back over earlier experiences, and also grows into those times that represent earlier human lives on earth. Only a hint can be given of what is to be explained in later lectures: intimately connected with the expansion of will over fate is the realization that man not only accomplishes one earth-life, but that this one life is the result of previous earth-lives, that this preparation of the will of fate has taken place in previous earth-lives. And so it presents itself in our consciousness that what we now grasp with our will is the cause for later earthly lives, and has an effect on later earthly lives.

Especially in the spiritual culture of Central Europe, the stages by which outstanding leader spirits have grasped this connection between the human soul's experiences and the spiritual world have always emerged in their souls. And if it has been said today that the human soul can, through the concentration of thought, cause this thought to die away and to revive in a higher world, then reference can be made to a spirit to which I have already drawn attention in earlier lectures: to Johann Gottlieb Fichte. He did not yet have spiritual science. But he was so immersed in German, Central European spiritual life that he saw the certainty of the human soul's place in eternity from the way he found himself placed in this spiritual life, as if from an elementary, impulsive consciousness. In many places in his works, Fichte has expressed what emerged to him, what he felt about the human soul's standing within the world of a higher consciousness; but perhaps there is no place where he expresses this connection of the human soul with eternity more intensely than in his appeal to the public, in which he defended himself against the false accusation of atheism. There he says – addressing external nature as “thou” and the I that comes to grasp itself as “I” – the following words:

These convictions are not merely theoretical realizations; these convictions are experienced. And that is what I wanted to bring to the feeling and emotion in the last of my lectures here, that precisely Central European, German intellectual life is the one that contains the best, the most beautiful, the most energetic seeds for this experience. Hence it is that out of this spiritual life itself there may flow the consciousness of its significance in the world, and that now, when in the outer life of Central Europe this spiritual life too is confronted with the question of being or non-being, this spiritual life can know from its own direct knowledge what its calling is and how it must live, and how it must not perish because it is necessary to form the bond between the human soul and the eternals. Then, especially from this spiritual life, flows that consciousness which sees, as it were, in an intense form when one now turns one's gaze to all – we may already say – heroic natures who stand between life and death in the stream of today's events. We look at the great riddle, at the great question of fate that is posed to us today by the epoch — also in this form in which it is posed to us by today's events: the question of life and death. And when we look from the point of view of spiritual science at what lives in the human body, lives in the knowledge that it is sheltered in the consciousness of higher beings, that it can believe itself to be preserved as a living, independent memory then, when this body is destroyed, — that which lives there, that is what must appear before our soul today, when we see so many bodies fall in sacrifice, in the great sacrifice of the time.

We ask ourselves: When viewed from the perspective of spiritual science, do the events of the soul really impose themselves on the soul of the one from whom death is demanded by the events of the time, mostly at a young age? We look up to the one from whom death is demanded in the sacrificial service of time, we look at what we grasp spiritually as a soul-like measure of strength, and we know: The thread of life is torn from that which lives in the body in the bloom of youth, at a time when the soul and spiritual powers could still experience for a long time. But truly, when we have recognized these spiritual powers through spiritual science, then we know that they remain alive, that they pass over into a spiritual world, into a new context, when they detach themselves from the old one. And when we then think how we ourselves become memories and thoughts in higher consciousnesses, then this death of the times, which appears so tragic to us today, will appear to us in a higher light. So that we see the forces that we see taken from the body penetrating into higher consciousnesses – and see these higher consciousnesses looking down on physical life on earth. With their strengthened powers, they have absorbed everything that man has sacrificed to them. And because it is the higher consciousnesses that offer us spiritual nourishment, the powers for the fertilization of the soul, the powers of preservation and life, just as physical powers offer us physical nourishment, we can look up to those who today, through the events of the times, go into the spiritual world with a sacrificial death, as something that in the future will look down strengthening and invigoratingly on what is taking place on the physical plane of the earth. It acquires a real, a true meaning when it is said: the sacrifice on the battlefield acquires a meaning through the whole development of humanity. And what is meant by this becomes understandable when we know: just as we, as physical human beings, face nature and it gives us its nourishment, so we give ourselves to the spirits and gods for nourishment; but they themselves give us what we need for nourishment and for strengthening the soul. And when young forces, who die on the battlefield or languish from the consequences of their wounds, leave the body, then these young forces are refreshment forces for the human evolution of the future.

It becomes very real when the one who sacrifices himself on the battlefield is imbued with the consciousness that he does not merely die, but lives in his death and will live differently than if he had died a different death, will live for the salvation and for the vigorous future of humanity. We look at the meaning of these sacrificial deaths by recognizing how the seeds are sown for the prosperity of humanity in the future, and by knowing how consciousness can permeate the warrior, that he experiences his death today, that he experiences his wounded fate today, but that he retains the strength through which he will remain united with that for which he dies throughout the future. Torn out of all sentimentality and placed in the simple reality,

reality, is placed in what otherwise could so easily only be taken symbolically or figuratively. Such a spiritual contemplation, as we have undertaken today, about the life of the human soul in the outer existence and also in the supersensible existence, I believe, in the right sense, creates right impulses in that which we experience today as the “fate of the times”. And if, in the context of a significant spiritual experience, a poet — Robert Prutz — has spoken beautifully of the ideal deeds of his people, then we may, from the point of view of spiritual science, give these words an even deeper meaning in view of current events. Regarding what the human soul experiences in life and in death, we may ask: What is the meaning of the death and suffering that are now demanded of us by the times? And today, deepening the meaning of Robert Prutz's words, we can say to anyone who will sympathize with and experience what is demanded of us today: what Robert Prutz said in the face of an event less significant in world history:

It is for the coming generation,
It is for the future dawn,
It is for freedom and for the right,
It is for life and for death!

[ 1 ] When I observe how a billiard ball, when struck, communicates its motion to another, I remain entirely without influence on the process before me. The direction and velocity of the motion of the second ball is determined by the direction and velocity of the first. As long as I remain a mere spectator, I can say nothing about the motion of the second ball until after it has happened. It is quite different when I begin to reflect on the content of my observations. The purpose of my reflection is to construct concepts of the process. I connect the concept of an elastic ball with certain other concepts of mechanics, and consider the special circumstances which obtain in the instance in question. I try, in other words, to add to the process which takes place without any interference, a second process which takes place in the conceptual sphere. This latter process is dependent on me. This is shown by the fact that I can rest content with the observation, and renounce all search for concepts if I have no need of them. If, therefore, this need is present, then I am not content until I have established a definite connection among the concepts, ball, elasticity, motion, impact, velocity, etc., so that they apply to the observed process in a definite way. As surely as the occurrence of the observed process is independent of me, so surely is the occurrence of the conceptual process dependent on me.

[ 2 ] We shall have to consider later whether this activity of mine really proceeds from my own independent being, or whether those modern physiologists are right who say that we cannot think as we will, but that we must think exactly as the thoughts and thought-connections determine, which happen to be in our minds at any given moment. (Cp. Ziehen, Leitfaden der Physiologischen Psychologie, Jena, 1893, p. 171.) For the present we wish merely to establish the fact that we constantly feel obliged to seek for concepts and connections of concepts, which stand in definite relation to the objects and processes which are given independently of us. Whether this activity is really ours, or whether we are determined to it by an unalterable necessity, is a question which we need not decide at present. What is unquestionable is that the activity appears, in the first instance, to be ours. We know for certain that concepts are not given together with the objects to which they correspond. My being the agent in the conceptual process may be an illusion; but there is no doubt that to immediate observation I appear to be active. Our present question is: what do we gain by supplementing a process with a conceptual counterpart?

[ 3 ] There is a far-reaching difference between the ways in which, for me, the parts of a process are related to one another before, and after, the discovery of the corresponding concepts. Mere observation can trace the parts of a given process as they occur, but their connection remains obscure without the help of concepts. I observe the first billiard ball move towards the second in a certain direction and with a certain velocity. What will happen after the impact I cannot tell in advance. I can once more only watch it happen with my eyes. Suppose some one obstructs my view of the field where the process is happening, at the moment when the impact occurs, then, as mere spectator, I remain ignorant of what goes on. The situation is very different, if prior to the obstructing of my view I have discovered the concepts corresponding to the nexus of events. In that case I can say what occurs, even when I am no longer able to observe. There is nothing in a merely observed process or object to show its relation to other processes or objects. This relation becomes manifest only when observation is combined with thought.

[ 4 ] Observation and thought are the two points of departure for all the spiritual striving of man, in so far as he is conscious of such striving. The workings of common sense, as well as the most complicated scientific researches, rest on these two fundamental pillars of our minds. Philosophers have started from various ultimate antitheses, Idea and Reality, Subject and Object, Appearance and Thing-in-itself, Ego and Non-Ego, Idea and Will, Matter and Mind, Matter and Force, the Conscious and the Unconscious. It is, however, easy to show that all these antitheses are subsequent to that between observation and thought, this being for man the most important.

[ 5 ] Whatever principle we choose to lay down, we must prove that somewhere we have observed it, or we must enunciate it in the form of a clear concept which can be rethought by any other thinker. Every philosopher who sets out to discuss his fundamental principles, must express them in conceptual form and thus use thought. He therefore indirectly admits that his activity presupposes thought. We leave open here the question whether thought or something else is the chief factor in the development of the world. But it is at any rate clear that the philosopher can gain no knowledge of this development without thought. In the occurrence of phenomena thought may play a secondary part, but it is quite certain that it plays a chief part in the construction of a theory about them.

[ 6 ] As regards observation, our need of it is due to our organization. Our thought about a horse and the object “horse” are two things which for us have separate existences. The object is accessible to us only by means of observation. As little as we can construct a concept of a horse by mere staring at the animal, just as little are we able by mere thought to produce the corresponding object.

[ 7 ] In time observation actually precedes thought. For we become familiar with thought itself in the first instance by observation. It was essentially a description of an observation when, at the beginning of this chapter, we gave an account of how thought is kindled by an objective process and transcends the merely given. Whatever enters the circle of our experiences becomes an object of apprehension to us first through observation. All contents of sensations, all perceptions, intuitions, feelings, acts of will, dreams and fancies, images, concepts, ideas, all illusions and hallucinations, are given to us through observation.

[ 8 ] But thought as an object of observation differs essentially from all other objects. The observation of a table, or a tree, occurs in me as soon as those objects appear within the horizon of my field of consciousness. Yet I do not, at the same time, observe my thought about these things. I observe the table, but I carry on a process of thought about the table without, at the same moment, observing this thought-process. I must first take up a standpoint outside of my own activity, if I want to observe my thought about the table, as well as the table. Whereas the observation of things and processes, and the thinking about them, are everyday occurrences making up the continuous current of my life, the observation of the thought-process itself is an exceptional attitude to adopt. This fact must be taken into account, when we come to determine the relations of thought as an object of observation to all other objects. We must be quite clear about the fact that, in observing the thought-processes, we are applying to them a method, which is our normal attitude in the study of all other objects in the world, but which in the ordinary course of that study is usually not applied to thought itself.

[ 9 ] Some one might object that what I have said about thinking applies equally to feeling and to all other mental activities. Thus it is said that when, e.g., I have a feeling of pleasure, the feeling is kindled by the object, but it is this object I observe, not the feeling of pleasure. This objection however is based on an error. Pleasure does not stand at all in the same relation to its object as the concept constructed by thought. I am conscious, in the most positive way, that the concept of a thing is formed through my activity; whereas a feeling of pleasure is produced in me by an object in a way similar to that in which, e.g., a change is caused in an object by a stone which falls on it. For observation, a pleasure is given in exactly the same way as the event which causes it. The same is not true of concepts. I can ask why an event arouses in me a feeling of pleasure. But I certainly cannot ask why an occurrence causes in me a certain number of concepts. The question would be simply meaningless. In thinking about an occurrence, I am not concerned with it as an effect on me. I learn nothing about myself from knowing the concepts which correspond to the observed change caused to a pane of glass by a stone thrown against it. But I do learn something about myself when I know the feeling which a certain occurrence arouses in me. When I say of an object which I perceive “this is a rose,” I say absolutely nothing about myself; but when I say of the same thing that “it causes a feeling of pleasure in me,” I characterize not only the rose, but also myself in my relation to the rose.

[ 10 ] There can, therefore, be no question of putting thought and feeling on a level as objects of observation. And the same could easily be shown of other activities of the human mind. Unlike thought, they must be classed with any other observed objects or events. The peculiar nature of thought lies just in this, that it is an activity which is directed solely on the observed object and not on the thinking subject. This is apparent even from the way in which we express our thoughts about an object, as distinct from our feelings or acts of will. When I see an object and recognize it as a table, I do not as a rule say “I am thinking of a table,” but “this is a table.” On the other hand, I do say “I am pleased with the table.” In the former case, I am not at all interested in stating that I have entered into a relation with the table; whereas, in the second case, it is just this relation which matters. In saying “I am thinking of a table,” I adopt the exceptional point of view characterized above, in which something is made the object of observation which is always present in our mental activity, without being itself normally an observed object.

[ 11 ] The peculiar nature of thought consists just in this, that the thinker forgets his thinking while actually engaged in it. It is not thinking which occupies his attention, but rather the object of thought which he observes.

[ 12 ] The first point, then, to notice about thought is that it is the unobserved element in our ordinary mental life.

[ 13 ] The reason why we do not notice the thinking which goes on in our ordinary mental life is no other than this, that it is our own activity. Whatever I do not myself produce appears in my field of consciousness as an object; I contrast it with myself as something the existence of which is independent of me. It forces itself upon me. I must accept it as the presupposition of my thinking. As long as I think about the object, I am absorbed in it, my attention is turned on it. To be thus absorbed in the object is just to contemplate it by thought. I attend not to my activity, but to its object. In other words whilst I am thinking, I pay no heed to my thinking which is of my own making, but only to the object of my thinking which is not of my making.

[ 14 ] I am, moreover, in exactly the same position when I adopt the exceptional point of view and think of my own thought-processes. I can never observe my present thought, I can only make my past experiences of thought-processes subsequently the objects of fresh thoughts. If I wanted to watch my present thought, I should have to split myself into two persons, one to think, the other to observe this thinking. But this is impossible. I can only accomplish it in two separate acts. The observed thought-processes are never those in which I am actually engaged but others. Whether, for this purpose, I make observations on my own former thoughts, or follow the thought-processes of another person, or finally, as in the example of the motions of the billiard balls, assume an imaginary thought-process, is immaterial.

[ 15 ] There are two things which are incompatible with one another: productive activity and the theoretical contemplation of that activity. This is recognized even in the First Book of Moses. It represents God as creating the world in the first six days, and only after its completion is any contemplation of the world possible: “And God saw everything that he had made and, behold, it was very good.” The same applies to our thinking. It must be there first, if we would observe it.

[ 16 ] The reason why it is impossible to observe the thought-process in its actual occurrence at any given moment, is the same as that which makes it possible for us to know it more immediately and more intimately than any other process in the world. Just because it is our own creation do we know the characteristic features of its course, the manner in which the process, in detail, takes place. What in the other spheres of observation we can discover only indirectly, viz., the relevant objective nexus and the relations of the individual objects, that is known to us immediately in the case of thought. I do not know off-hand why, for perception, thunder follows lightning, but I know immediately, from the content of the two concepts, why my thought connects the concept of thunder with that of lightning. It does not matter for my argument whether my concepts of thunder and lightning are correct. The connection between the concepts I have is clear to me, and that through the very concepts themselves.

[ 17 ] This transparent clearness in the observation of our thought-processes is quite independent of our knowledge of the physiological basis of thought. I am speaking here of thought in the sense in which it is the object of our observation of our own mental activity. For this purpose it is quite irrelevant how one material process in my brain causes or influences another, whilst I am carrying on a process of thought. What I observe, in studying a thought-process, is not which process in my brain connects the concept of thunder with that of lightning, but what is my reason for bringing these two concepts into a definite relation. Introspection shows that, in linking thought with thought, I am guided by their content not by the material processes in the brain. This remark would be quite superfluous in a less materialistic age than ours. Today, however, when there are people who believe that, when we know what matter is, we shall know also how it thinks, it is necessary to affirm the possibility of speaking of thought without trespassing on the domain of brain physiology. Many people today find it difficult to grasp the concept of thought in its purity. Anyone who challenges the account of thought which I have given here, by quoting Cabanis' statement that “the brain secretes thoughts as the liver does gall or the spittle-glands spittle, etc.” simply does not know of what I am talking. He attempts to discover thought by the same method of mere observation which we apply to the other objects that make up the world. But he cannot find it in this way, because, as I have shown, it eludes just this ordinary observation. Whoever cannot transcend Materialism lacks the ability to throw himself into the exceptional attitude I have described, in which he becomes conscious of what in all other mental activity remains unconscious. It is as useless to discuss thought with one who is not willing to adopt this attitude, as it would be to discuss colour with a blind man. Let him not imagine, however, that we regard physiological processes as thought. He fails to explain thought, because he is not even aware that it is there.

[ 18 ] For every one, however, who has the ability to observe thought, and with good will every normal man has this ability, this observation is the most important he can make. For he observes something which he himself produces. He is not confronted by what is to begin with a strange object, but by his own activity. He knows how that which he observes has come to be. He perceives clearly its connections and relations. He gains a firm point from which he can, with well-founded hopes, seek an explanation of the other phenomena of the world.

[ 19 ] The feeling that he had found such a firm foundation, induced the father of modern philosophy, Descartes, to base the whole of human knowledge on the principle “I think, therefore I am.” All other things, all other processes, are independent of me. Whether they be truth, or illusion, or dream, I know not. There is only one thing of which I am absolutely certain, for I myself am the author of its indubitable existence; and that is my thought. Whatever other origin it may have in addition, whether it come from God or from elsewhere, of one thing I am sure, that it exists in the sense that I myself produce it. Descartes had, to begin with, no justification for reading any other meaning into his principle. All he had a right to assert was that, in apprehending myself as thinking, I apprehend myself, within the world-system, in that activity which is most uniquely characteristic of me. What the added words “therefore I am” are intended to mean has been much debated. They can have a meaning on one condition only. The simplest assertion I can make of a thing is, that it is, that it exists. What kind of existence, in detail, it has, can in no case be determined on the spot, as soon as the thing enters within the horizon of my experience. Each object must be studied in its relations to others, before we can determine the sense in which we can speak of its existence. An experienced process may be a complex of percepts, or it may be a dream, an hallucination, etc. In short, I cannot say in what sense it exists. I can never read off the kind of existence from the process itself, for I can discover it only when I consider the process in its relation to other things. But this, again, yields me no knowledge beyond just its relation to other things. My inquiry touches firm ground only when I find an object, the reason of the existence of which I can gather from itself. Such an object I am myself in so far as I think, for I qualify my existence by the determinate and self-contained content of my thought-activity. From here I can go on to ask whether other things exist in the same or in some other sense.

[ 20 ] When thought is made an object of observation, something which usually escapes our attention is added to the other observed contents of the world. But the usual manner of observation, such as is employed also for other objects, is in no way altered. We add to the number of objects of observation, but not to the number of methods. When we are observing other things, there enters among the world-processes—among which I now include observation—one process which is overlooked. There is present something different from every other kind of process, something which is not taken into account. But when I make an object of my own thinking, there is no such neglected element present. For what lurks now in the background is just thought itself over again. The object of observation is qualitatively identical with the activity directed upon it. This is another characteristic feature of thought-processes. When we make them objects of observation, we are not compelled to do so with the help of something qualitatively different, but can remain within the realm of thought.

[ 21 ] When I weave a tissue of thoughts round an independently given object, I transcend my observation, and the question then arises, what right have I to do this? Why do I not passively let the object impress itself on me? How is it possible for my thought to be relevantly related to the object? These are questions which every one must put to himself who reflects on his own thought-processes. But all these questions lapse when we think about thought itself. We then add nothing to our thought that is foreign to it, and therefore have no need to justify any such addition.

[ 22] Schelling says: “To know Nature means to create Nature.” If we take these words of the daring philosopher of Nature literally, we shall have to renounce for ever all hope of gaining knowledge of Nature. For Nature after all exists, and if we have to create it over again, we must know the principles according to which it has originated in the first instance. We should have to borrow from Nature as it exists the conditions of existence for the Nature which we are about to create. But this borrowing, which would have to precede the creating, would be a knowing of Nature, and that even if after the borrowing no creation at all were attempted. The only kind of Nature which it would be possible to create without previous knowledge, would be a Nature different from the existing one.

[ 23 ] What is impossible with Nature, viz., creation prior to knowledge, that we accomplish in the act of thought. Were we to refrain from thinking until we had first gained knowledge of it, we should never think at all. We must resolutely think straight ahead, and then afterwards by introspective analysis gain knowledge of our own processes. Thus we ourselves create the thought-processes which we then make objects of observation. The existence of all other objects is provided for us without any activity on our part.

[ 24 ] My contention that we must think before we can make thought an object of knowledge, might easily be countered by the apparently equally valid contention that we cannot wait with digesting until we have first observed the process of digestion. This objection would be similar to that brought by Pascal against Descartes, when he asserted we might also say “I walk, therefore I am.” Certainly I must digest resolutely and not wait until I have studied the physiological process of digestion. But I could only compare this with the analysis of thought if, after digestion, I set myself, not to analyse it by thought, but to eat and digest it. It is not without reason that, while digestion cannot become the object of digestion, thought can very well become the object of thought.

[ 25 ] This then is indisputable, that in thinking we have got hold of one bit of the world-process which requires our presence if anything is to happen. And that is the very point that matters. The very reason why things seem so puzzling is just that I play no part in their production. They are simply given to me, whereas I know how thought is produced. Hence there can be no more fundamental starting-point than thought from which to regard all world-processes.

[ 26 ] I should like still to mention a widely current error which prevails with regard to thought. It is often said that thought, in its real nature, is never experienced. The thought-processes which connect our perceptions with one another, and weave about them a network of concepts, are not at all the same as those which our analysis afterwards extracts from the objects of perception, in order to make them the object of study. What we have unconsciously woven into things is, so we are told, something widely different from what subsequent analysis recovers out of them.

[ 27 ] Those who hold this view do not see that it is impossible to escape from thought. I cannot get outside thought when I want to observe it. We should never forget that the distinction between thought which goes on unconsciously and thought which is consciously analysed, is a purely external one and irrelevant to our discussion. I do not in any way alter a thing by making it an object of thought. I can well imagine that a being with quite different sense-organs, and with a differently constructed intelligence, would have a very different idea of a horse from mine, but I cannot think that my own thought becomes different because I make it an object of knowledge. I myself observe my own processes. We are not talking here of how my thought-processes appear to an intelligence different from mine, but how they appear to me. In any case, the idea which another mind forms of my thought cannot be truer than the one which I form myself. Only if the thought-processes were not my own, but the activity of a being quite different from me, could I maintain that, notwithstanding my forming a definite idea of these thought-processes, their real nature was beyond my comprehension.

[ 28 ] So far, there is not the slightest reason why I should regard my thought from any other point of view than my own. I contemplate the rest of the world by means of thought. How should I make of my thought an exception?

[ 29 ] I think I have given sufficient reasons for making thought the starting-point for my theory of the world. When Archimedes had discovered the lever, he thought he could lift the whole cosmos out of its hinges, if only he could find a point of support for his instrument. He needed a point which was self-supporting. In thought we have a principle which is self-subsisting. Let us try, therefore, to understand the world starting with thought as our basis. Thought can be grasped by thought. The question is whether by thought we can also grasp something other than thought.

[ 30 ] I have so far spoken of thought without taking any account of its vehicle, the human consciousness. Most present-day philosophers would object that, before there can be thought, there must be consciousness. Hence we ought to start, not from thought, but from consciousness. There is no thought, they say without consciousness. In reply I would urge that, in order to clear up the relation between thought and consciousness, I must think about it. Hence I presuppose thought. One might, it is true, retort that, though a philosopher who wishes to understand thought, naturally makes use of thought, and so far presupposes it, in the ordinary course of life thought arises within consciousness and therefore presupposes that. Were this answer given to the world-creator, when he was about to create thought, it would, without doubt, be to the point. Thought cannot, of course, come into being before consciousness. The philosopher, however, is not concerned with the creation of the world, but with the understanding of it. Hence he is in search of the starting-point, not for creation, but with the understanding of the world. It seems to me very strange that philosophers are reproached for troubling themselves, above all, about the correctness of their principles, instead of turning straight to the objects which they seek to understand. The world-creator had above all to know how to find a vehicle for thought, the philosopher must seek a firm basis for the understanding of what is given. What does it help us to start with consciousness and make it an object of thought, if we have not first inquired how far it is possible at all to gain any knowledge of things by thought?

[ 31 ] We must first consider thought quite impartially without relation to a thinking subject or to an object of thought. For subject and object are both concepts constructed by thought. There is no denying that thought must be understood before anything else can be understood. Whoever denies this, fails to realise that man is not the first link in the chain of creation but the last. Hence, in order to explain the world by means of concepts, we cannot start from the elements of existence which came first in time, but we must begin with those which are nearest and most intimately connected with us. We cannot, with a leap, transport ourselves to the beginning of the world, in order to begin our analysis there, but we must start from the present and see whether we cannot advance from the later to the earlier. As long as Geology fabled fantastic revolutions to account for the present state of the earth, it groped in darkness. It was only when it began to study the processes at present at work on the earth, and from these to argue back to the past, that it gained a firm foundation. As long as Philosophy assumes all sorts of principles, such as atom, motion, matter, will, the unconscious, it will hang in the air. The philosopher can reach his goal only if he adopts that which is last in time as first in his theory. This absolutely last in the world-process is thought.

[ 32 ] There are people who say it is impossible to ascertain with certainty whether thought is right or wrong, and that, so far, our starting-point is a doubtful one. It would be just as intelligent to raise doubts as to whether a tree is in itself right or wrong. Thought is a fact, and it is meaningless to speak of the truth or falsity of a fact. I can, at most, be in doubt as to whether thought is rightly employed, just as I can doubt whether a certain tree supplies wood adapted to the making of this or that useful object. It is just the purpose of this book to show how far the application of thought to the world is right or wrong. I can understand anyone doubting whether, by means of thought, we can gain any knowledge of the world, but it is unintelligible to me how anyone can doubt that thought in itself is right.

Impulses connected with the spiritual world, whatever their direction, can only be understood from the viewpoint of spiritual science. As we have seen, playing into today's events there are impulses which we have traced back to human beings, but only to those who know how to handle spiritual impulses in one way or another.

We must ask ourselves: Why do certain people do the kind of things we have been talking about? Which leads to the next question: Why are we living in an age when untruth—untruthfulness—is working as a dominant force in the world, a force which drives human beings with a veritable passion that could, if only it would turn towards the truth instead, bring about infinitely much in the way of healing?

These things are indeed connected with what are, at the moment, the deepest impulses of humanity. We can gain a closer understanding of them, in a manner appropriate for our time, by including in our considerations the most urgent task of that spiritual-scientific view of the world which we have made our own. Remember that our anthroposophical spiritual science seeks to understand certain spiritual aspects which exist in the world, certain forces which are at work in the world of human beings in so far as they develop not only between birth and death but also between death and a new birth. It is difficult for people today to think about these things in the right way, because they have lost certain faculties which were once present in human evolution; for a while these faculties had to go underground, but now they must light up again through spiritual science.

We know well enough that in olden times the human soul was linked with the spiritual world in a way that was more elementary, more natural; such links did not have to be brought about by active spiritual work but existed of themselves. We called them atavistic. We know, too, that in those days it was impossible for human beings to doubt the existence of life after death. The possibility of such doubt only arose for an interim period which is now to be succeeded by an age in which all shall know about life between death and a new birth.

In those olden times something else—a third condition—came as naturally to the human soul as waking and sleeping do today. In today's state of being awake, human beings are restricted entirely to the physical world which they can perceive with their senses; they live between birth and death in a world which they can experience through their senses and through their understanding which is bounded by the brain. And in sleep they are unconscious. The entities of ego and astral body in which they live between falling asleep and waking up are not yet strong enough to supply them with a comparable consciousness. We know that the astral body has only been developing since the time of ancient Moon and the ego only since the beginning of Earth evolution. Both are young measured against cosmic evolution and they are not yet strong enough to achieve consciousness when left to themselves between going to sleep and waking up.

Dreams, however, with all their manifold pictures, do rise up out of sleep. These dreams can contain a great deal that belongs to the spiritual world. There is a great deal in dreams which belongs to the spiritual world, but the human soul as it is today is not capable of seeing beyond the dreams in order to discover what it is that lives in these dreams. Dreams are deceptive pictures woven out of a veil of maya. When they are rightly interpreted they yield experiences of earlier times or prophetic indications for the future. They also reveal the interplay which takes place between the living and the dead during sleep. Everything can come to us through dreams. But, at the present stage of their evolution, human beings do not understand the strange language of dreams. Dream pictures remain incomprehensible, and this is quite natural. Just as Europeans cannot interpret the sounds spoken by the Chinese, so people today cannot interpret the picture language of dreams.

Thus during this interim period the human being is totally restricted in consciousness to whatever he can discover through those older instruments, the physical body and also the etheric body, which have been developing since the time of ancient Sun and ancient Saturn and are therefore so constituted that they can offer him consciousness as long as he is in them, that is, between waking up and going to sleep.

Now the spiritual science for which we are striving gives us concepts of the super-sensible world working in and behind the sense-perceptible world. The concepts and ideas given to us by spiritual science and which we make our own are related to nothing that can be perceived by the senses. They relate either to what lies between death and a new birth, or to the super-sensible world which lies beyond the world of the senses. Comprehension of these is not, or ought not to be, a mere comprehension of certain theories. We are not concerned with knowing one thing or another but with achieving a certain inner mood of soul when we take in truths relating to the super-sensible world.

It is difficult to describe these things in words because our language has been coined for the external, physical plane, so we have to exert ourselves when applying it to super-sensible conditions. You could say that everything to which we ordinarily apply our understanding lives coarsely, densely in our soul because our brain is always at our disposal and is trained to deal with ideas and concepts relating to the physical plane. But to explain things which do not relate to the physical plane we have to exert our soul to such an extent that, when we study spiritual science, our brain plays an ever-decreasing part. When we experience difficulties in understanding what spiritual science gives us, this is only because our brain impedes our understanding. Our brain is adjusted and adapted to the coarse concepts of the physical plane and we have to exert ourselves to acquire the subtler concepts—subtler only in so far as human comprehension is concerned—of the spiritual world. This exertion is entirely healthy, it is certainly good, because with spiritual science we then live in our soul in a new way, quite different from that required by physical knowledge and understanding and ideas. We transport ourselves into a world of mobile, subtle pictures and ideas, and that is significant.

It is possible for all of you to be aware of the point at which you are sufficiently within the sphere where the etheric body more or less lives on its own, using the brain only in faint vibrations. It is the point at which you begin to feel that you no longer have to exert yourself to think the thoughts given by spiritual science, in the way in which you have to exert yourself to think everyday thoughts. You know very well that you yourself make the thoughts which you think about everyday matters on the physical plane; you develop the concepts in accordance with the daily requirements and conditions of life, in accordance with sympathies and antipathies and with whatever is prepared by your senses and by your brain-bound understanding. With spiritual science, however, once you really enter into it, you will begin to sense: I have not thought all this myself; it has already been thought before I think it; it is floating there as a thought and merely enters into me. When you begin to feel: This is floating in the objective thinking of the universe and merely enters into me—then you will have won a great deal. You will have experienced a relationship to that delicate etheric, floating and weaving world in which your soul lives. After that it is really only a matter of time, though it might be quite a long time, before you gradually enter that sphere which we share with those among the dead with whom we are karmically linked.

I said that in olden times there was no question of discussing whether immortality existed or not. People then had a third condition apart from sleeping and waking, an in-between condition which was not merely a state of dreaming. It was an elementary and natural condition, in which human beings saw their dead spiritually face to face. They were there and they lived together with them. In those earlier times, when people did something, or when something happened to them which was a little out of the ordinary—and this of course happened and still happens all the time, for we are not only creatures of habit—they then felt beside them one or another of those who had gone through death before them, either long, or not so lang, ago. They felt as though the dead person acted with them, or joined in their counsel. So when the soul of a person living on the earth decided to do something, or when something happened to that person, this soul felt that there was one who had died who joined in the action or the suffering. The dead were present. So there was no discussion about immortality or the lack of it. It would have been as pointless as questioning whether someone with whom we are speaking is actually there or not. Whatever we experience is a reality, and in olden times people experienced how the dead shared in all that happened.

We know the reasons why those times had to go into the underground of existence. But they will return, though in a different form. The manner of their return will be brought about by human beings who achieve the mood of soul which can be achieved through spiritual science, through actively living in the pictures of the spiritual world given by spiritual science. This will enable the soul to attain a delicate attuning, and then into this delicate attuning the souls of the so-called dead will enter. Of course they are always present, but what matters now is that we should be aware of how they enter into our soul-sphere. Of course, the dead always surround those of us with whom they were karmically linked during life. But to enable them to enter our consciousness we must go to meet them with the fine attuning I have just described. For you see it is always possible for the dead to gain entry into human souls if these souls lead their life in a mood such as that described just now, where the concepts and ideas formed by these souls live, somehow, in a super-sensible sphere. From the bodily, physical aspect of man the dead have to flee, for at the moment they cannot enter there. Neither can they enter those thoughts which only rise up from the brain after the manner of the physical world. And because today human beings mostly entertain only thoughts that rise up from the brain, it is so very difficult for the dead to make contact with the living.

But if the living go to meet the dead by developing the fine attuning that arises when one concerns oneself a great deal with super-sensible ideas, then the dead can enter that floating and weaving world which extricates itself from the bodily aspect and takes no account of it. Today everything depends on whether human souls will find it possible, in some measure, to tread the path which leads to the dead. For then the dead will come to meet them. There must be a meeting in a common realm.

I have often stressed that what spiritual science has to say about the super-sensible world, the concepts and ideas we develop—all this is there for both the living and the dead. That is why I have recommended the practice of reading to the dead: that is, of unfolding thoughts orientated to them which refer to the super-sensible world. Doing this is a way of offering them a bridge and it is one which can reach not only those who have died recently, but all those who have died, even a very long time ago.

In this way the living have the possibility of approaching the dead. And similarly the dead have the possibility of working into the thoughts of the living. When you have absorbed the spirit of spiritual science you will be able to form from such arguments a fair conception of the fact that in the materialistic age we human beings have lived through for so long the dead can have less and less influence on the course of events here in the physical world where human beings have turned towards more materialistic ideas relating only to the physical plane, ideas which are of no use to the dead. So events in the physical world now run their course without any, or with only very little, influence from those who have passed on. This will have to change. Active communication must once more be established between the living and the dead. Those who have died must become able to work into the physical world, so that what takes place there no longer goes on solely under the influence of conceptions which arise in this physical world.

So our pursuit of spiritual science is indeed intimately bound up with giving the dead an opportunity to work here in the physical world. It must be said that a grave and lofty aim of our work in spiritual science is the creation of a link between the spiritual world, where the dead have their home, and the physical world. Then the dead will no longer have to say to themselves that they are more or less exiles from the physical world owing to the fact that the living, down here, cannot develop thoughts through which the dead might bring their influence to bear in this physical world.

Many, for sure, will say: I have been striving to open myself to the ideas of spiritual science, but I have seen no sign of any influence emanating from the dead. My dear friends, these things demand a good deal of patience. You must take into account the degree to which for centuries the life of mankind on the physical plane has tended towards materialism and against anything that might make it possible for the dead to work here in a suitable way. Amongst all that has been going on for centuries, certain feelings, certain sensations have developed which human beings now entertain quite unconsciously towards the spiritual world. To these feelings and sensations, what comes today from spiritual science frequently appears as no more than abstract theory. One may well be convinced that what spiritual science has to say about the spiritual world is true. And yet it has not thus far entered so fully into one's whole soul life as to enable one to develop those sensations and feelings which do not disturb the delicate and subtle play of what comes over from the dead.

It is not easy to see these things in their proper light. People today are the children, or the grandchildren, or the great-grandchildren, or even the great-great-grandchildren of those who have lived during recent centuries and who have, under the influence of rising materialism, turned their sensations and feelings in certain directions. These directions are now expressed in every detail of these feelings and sensations. We can have the best will in the world to turn in the right way to someone who has died, to remember someone in the right way. But the whole disposition of our feelings and sensations working, perhaps one could say, through our blood which flows down to us from our ancestors, is not suited to placing before our soul in a proper way the delicate and intimate manifestations and revelations which come from the dead. Instead our feelings are like flickering lights, excitable flickering lights which interpose themselves in front of these subtle impulses which are today still so very delicate and intimate.

But though this may be the case we need not be discouraged, but should always cling to the positive aspect. And the positive aspect is that we genuinely strive for that condition which in certain moments of life, as the fruit of studying spiritual science, can give us a peacefulness of soul. What matters is that peacefulness of soul, the fine attuning in that peacefulness of soul, which makes it possible for us to receive these delicate, intimate manifestations and revelations from the kingdom of the dead.

Something else, too, is necessary, and that is the goodwill to resist all that untruthfulness about which we have been speaking in these lectures. All these untruthfulnesses that buzz about in the world enter into what might be called the spiritual aura and generate there a thick fog which the dead find impossible to penetrate. This thick fog contains all that black rubbish which comes, for instance—to name only one source—from today's journalism, in the form of untruths which are printed and repeated, creating an aura of untruthfulness spanning the earth. It is no exaggeration to say that it is exceedingly difficult for the dead to penetrate this black fog. Therefore, with the help of ideas such as those we have been developing concerning the absolutely concrete untruthfulness buzzing about in the world, it is necessary to endeavour to reach clarity, to really make the effort in this field to recognize the purely external truth of the physical plane in so far as this can become accessible to us, in order not to cover our soul with a dense fog through which the spiritual world simply cannot penetrate. You will understand how very necessary this is.

In conjunction with the concepts we have just been discussing, let us now touch on the question: What is the aim of those secret societies which send impulses of the kind we have been describing into the world, impulses which then live in the life of untruthfulness and which have led, out of this untruthfulness, to the painful events of today? What do these secret societies want? Among others—we cannot go into everything—there is one particular thing they want: They want to materialize materialism even further; they want to create even more materialism in the world than would come about as part of the natural evolution of mankind in the fifth post-Atlantean period. They want even more materialism. This is only one aspect of what they are aiming for, but it is the aspect we want at least to touch on here. With this aspect in mind such societies are founded and with this aspect in mind people are persuaded to join them, people who are approached during their lives because they are deemed suitable.

There are the most varied types of such societies. One type, much in evidence in the West and taking all kinds of forms, includes organizations which practise ceremonial magic. Ceremonial magic can, of course, be good magic, but we are speaking now of those societies which do not practise ceremonial magic for the good of mankind in general, but for the good of certain groups of people, or certain specific aims which are not general human aims.

Let us look first at those societies which practise ceremonial magic from this point of view. As we have said, it can be good, but in these societies it is not good. Certain kinds of ceremonial magic have definite effects on the human physical body. Everything physical is, after all, a manifestation of the spirit. Certain spiritual aspects which come into being under the influence of ceremonial magic can have an effect on the human physical body, specifically on the system of ganglia, as I described it the other day, and also on the spinal system. The cerebral system is the most difficult of all to influence by means of ceremonial magic. All this has to be done via the detour of the spiritual element, but it can be done and it can become effective.

Imagine certain secret societies carrying on a form of ceremonial magic directed towards its grey or black aspects. Imagine they influence their members in a way that affects even their physical body, even the delicate vibrations and weavings of their physical body, so that something spiritual flows into this physical body.

What is the consequence? The consequence is that something now comes about which was suitable in earlier periods of human evolution but is no longer permissible today. Such procedures make it possible for the spiritual world to influence those human beings who participate, even though they do not turn towards it along the path I have described. This means that it becomes possible for the dead, as well as other spirits, to influence the members of a circle created by ceremonial magic. In this way today's materialism can be made hyper-materialistic.

Imagine a human being—and there are countless such in the West—who is entirely materialistic, not only in his view of the world but also in all his feelings and sensations. And then imagine this materialistic disposition increasing to a high degree. Such a person must of necessity develop an urge to exercise an influence on the material world, not only while he lives in his physical body but also after he has died. He is bent on the following: When I die I want to have some abode through which I can affect the people I have left behind on the earth, or who are trained in such a way in relation to me. There are indeed certain people today whose materialistic urge is so great that they strive for means by which they can cultivate connections with the physical world even beyond death. And such means, through which a person secures for himself the possibility of affecting the material world from beyond death, are abodes of certain kinds of ceremonial magical practice.

This is something that can have immense consequences. Imagine a number of people brought together to form a certain brotherhood. These people know: Others have gone before us; their urge to exercise their power was so great that their life on earth was not enough for its gratification, so they want to go on gratifying it even after death. For them we are creating an abode, and through the acts of ceremonial magic we perform, they work into our bodies. Because of this we gain greater power than we have; because of this we are enabled to exercise a certain degree of magical power over other, weaker people who stand outside such brotherhoods. When we speak words, when we give a speech, these dead souls work in us because we have been prepared by sharing in these acts of ceremonial magic.

It is one thing if somebody who simply participates honestly in the cultural processes of our time gives a speech in parliament or writes a newspaper article. But it is something entirely different if a person who belongs to a circle of ceremonial magic, and is thus strengthened by the power urges of some who have died, gives a speech in parliament or writes an article for a newspaper. The latter exercises an immensely greater degree of influence in the direction of his wishes than would be the case if he did not have this backing. This is one side of the matter.

The other side is that those who enter the circle of certain societies practising ceremonial magic are securing for themselves a power that reaches beyond death, a kind of ahrimanic immortality. For these people this is their main concern. For them, the society they enter provides a kind of guarantee that certain forces—which should by rights only live in them until the moment of death—will continue to live, even beyond death. More people than you might think are nowadays filled with this idea of guaranteeing for themselves an ahrimanic immortality, which consists in exercising influence not only as an individual human being, but also through the instrument of a society of this kind. Such societies exist in the most varied forms, and individuals who have attained certain degrees of advancement in these societies know: As a member of this society I shall become to some degree immortal because forces which would otherwise come to an end at my death will continue to work beyond death.

What these people then experience through this ceremonial magic makes them quite oblivious to a thought which would concern someone who takes such things truly seriously and in a genuinely dignified way. This is that the more a person gains by way of materialistic immortality, or rather ahrimanic immortality, the more he loses of the consciousness of true, genuine immortality. Yet materialism has taken such a hold on many souls today that they remain unconcerned about this and are tricked into striving for ahrimanic immortality. It could indeed be said that societies exist today which, from a spiritual or occult point of view, could be called ‘insurance companies for ahrimanic immortality’!

It is only a small number of people in each case who understand all these things. For as a rule these societies are organized in such a way that the ceremonial magic they practise influences only those who are unaware of the implications, merely desiring to make contact with the spiritual world by means of symbolic ceremonies. There are many such people. And those who have this desire are by no means necessarily the worst. They are accepted as members of the circle of ceremonial magic among whom there are then a few who simply use the rest of the members as instruments. Therefore one should beware of all secret societies administered by so-called higher grades whose aims are kept hidden from the lower grades. These administrative grades usually comprise those who have been initiated to a stage at which they only have a vague idea of what I have just been explaining to you. They comprise those who are to work positively in connection with certain goals and aims which are then realized by the wider group of those who have been merely inveigled into the circle of ceremonial magic. Everything these people do is done in such a way that it leads in the direction required by the higher grades but is strengthened by the forces which come from ceremonial magic.

Those who know how huge a number of such societies exist in the West can begin to gain an idea of what immensely effective tools such societies of ceremonial magic can be for certain far-reaching plans for the world. As you have seen, the chief aim is to prolong into our time a way of proceeding in which the spiritual world works into the sense-perceptible, physical world in a manner that was right in earlier times. For our times, however, the right procedure is for human beings to go towards the dead and meet them half-way. In the mood we have just been discussing, however, a path is sought which was appropriate in earlier, atavistic times but which today is brought about through the medium of ceremonial magic.

This should give you an idea of the disproportionate lengths to which exaggerated materialism, materialism that is hyper-materialistic, is prepared go in order to cross the border to the spiritual world, a border which today should only be crossed by means of attuning the soul to that mood which can be achieved through contemplating super-sensible concepts. An attitude appropriate for today is one that never accepts things which are given out by many secret societies, and which are not understood, for indeed a great deal that has not been understood is today both given out and accepted. Today it is appropriate to treat what these societies give out as something that is at most a failure to give the spoken word its true value, that is, something that uses words as mere concepts.

In much that today buzzes about in the world by way of untruthfulness and by way of egoism, in much that has even led to the canonization of egoism—not by the Pope, of course—in much that has led to the coining of the phrase sacro egoismo, which has become a new saint, though not canonized by the Pope, in much that today buzzes about in the world by way of egoisms and untruthfulnesses, influences and impulses are at work which gain extra strength from the world of the dead, in the manner described. And by searching for these impulses you will be led on to link up with other impulses about which you may find information in my book The Spiritual Guidance of Man. The lectures on which this book is based were given in 1911 in Copenhagen, for the most varied reasons. You will find there a description of how certain angelic powers remained behind in the third post-Atlantean period, in order today to unfold a force resembling that developed during the ancient Egyptian epoch. In those lectures I said:

‘Anything wonderful can become a tempter and seducer of mankind if people follow it one-sidedly; and then if this one-sidedness starts to take a hold, the great danger arises that all kinds of good endeavours begin to manifest as fanaticism. True though it is that mankind progresses by means of its noble impulses, it is equally true that an over-enthusiastic, fanatical pursuit of these most noble impulses can lead to all that would be worst for their right unfolding.’

The lecture then goes on to describe how certain forces which had their proper place in the third post-Atlantean period are now starting to work in our time. One may now add that just as an individual quite rightly finds a connection with his proper angel, so is it also possible for him to find a connection to those retarded spirits of the Egypto-Chaldean period, those retarded angels, if he seeks those forces and impulses which, in fact, are exaggerated ahrimanic forces coming in the manner described from the realm of the dead. These retarded angels play an important role in the secret societies I have been describing to you. There they are important helpers and leading spirits. A great deal that goes on in such secret societies is aimed at bringing Egypto-Chaldean elements in the old way into the present time. When these matters are no mere tomfoolery but stand fully in occult life, this takes place under the influence of retarded beings from the hierarchy of the angels who become leaders there. These are the beings from the hierarchy next above man who are sought by these societies.

This points to something exceedingly important. When we understand how the living testaments of these societies—not written testaments left over for those still alive, but testaments which are forces going beyond death—when we understand how these work and are preserved, which is something that ought not to happen, then we understand something of the magical power wielded by such societies which often enables them to impress the stamp of truthfulness on to something untrue. And indeed, one of their important magical functions is to spread untruth in the world in such a way that it gives the effect of being the truth. For in this working of the ‘untruth in what is true’ lies one of the mighty strengths of evil. This strength of evil is then put to considerable use in all kinds of quarters.

This I wanted to say today, in order to give you the esoteric background to the more exoteric matters I have been describing. Tomorrow we shall continue with this and endeavour to enter even more deeply into certain aspects.

When with the normal perception belonging to outer existence we study human life in its relation to life in the rest of the Universe, we are observing only the smallest part of world-existence that is connected with man himself. In other words, what a man can observe if he is not prepared to penetrate behind the mysteries of existence, can throw no real light upon his essential nature and being. For when we look around us with the ordinary organs of perception, with the organ of thinking, we have before us only that which does not in any way contain the deepest and most significant secrets of existence. This fact will strike us most strongly of all if we succeed in developing, even to a comparatively small extent, the capacity to view life and the world from the other side, namely, from the side of sleep. What can be seen during sleep is for the most part concealed from man's present faculty of perception. As soon as a person goes to sleep, from then until the moment of waking he really sees nothing at all. But if and when in the course of development the time comes when observation is also possible during sleep, most of what a man sees to begin with is connected with him as a human being but remains entirely hidden from ordinary observation. It is easy to understand why this is so, for the brain is an instrument of judgement, of thinking. Hence we must use or at least activate the brain when in everyday life we want to think or form judgements, but for that very reason we cannot see it. After all, the eye cannot see itself while it is actually observing something, and the same holds good of the whole organism. We bear it about with us but we cannot observe it in the real sense, we cannot penetrate it to any depth. We direct our gaze out into the world but in modern life we cannot direct this gaze into our own being.

Now the greatest mysteries of existence are not to be found in the outside world but within man himself. Let us recall what we know from Spiritual Science, namely that the three kingdoms of nature around us owe their existence to a certain retardation in evolution. Mineral kingdom, plant kingdom, animal kingdom are, fundamentally speaking, entities attributable to the fact that something remained backward in the evolutionary process. Normal progress in evolution has in point of fact been made only by beings who have reached the stage of human existence during the Earth period. When a man looks at the mineral, plant or animal kingdoms, he is really observing in the world that which amounts in his own existence to what he ‘remembers’, to the content of his memory of his actual experiences; he is in fact contemplating what has taken place in the past and still enjoys a certain existence. But he is not experiencing the living, invisible soul-life of the immediate present when he concerns himself only with his memory. The memory with all its mental pictures represents something that has been deposited in our living soul-existence, is fixed there. All this is, of course, to be taken metaphorically, but the memories embedded in the soul are not the direct, basic elements of its life. The same applies to the mineral, plant and animal kingdoms in outer nature. The thoughts conceived by divine-spiritual Beings in the past live on in these kingdoms and they continue into present existence, just as our memory-pictures continue into our present life of soul. Hence we have in the world around us, not the thoughts of the immediately present, living, divine-spiritual Beings but the memory-pictures, the preserved thoughts of the Gods.

As to the content of our memory, this may well be of interest because with our memory we grasp a tiny corner of world-creation, we grasp what has passed over from creation into existence. Our memory-pictures are the first, the lowest, the most fugitive stage of created existence. But when we waken spiritually during sleep we see something quite different. We see nothing of what is outside in space, nothing of the processes manifesting in the mineral, plant and animal kingdoms or in the external aspects of the human kingdom. But then we know that the essential realities which we are there beholding are the creative, life-giving principles working on man himself. It is actually as if everything else were blotted out and as if the Earth, observed from the viewpoint of sleep, contained nothing except Man. What would never be seen by day, in the waking state, is revealed when contemplated from the viewpoint of sleep. And it is then, for the first time, that knowledge dawns in us of the thoughts which the divine-spiritual Beings kept in reserve in order to work at the creation of man, at a level above that of mineral, plant and animal existence.

Whereas through physical perception of the world we see everything except the real being of man, through the spiritual perception exercised from the viewpoint of sleep, we see nothing except man—as a creation, together with happenings in the human kingdom—that is to say, from the viewpoint of sleep we see everything that is hidden from the ordinary perception of waking life. This accounts for the element of strangeness that is present in our vision when we are contemplating the world from the viewpoint of sleep, in other words, when we become clairvoyant, having wakened spiritually during sleep.

Now the human body—and here I mean the physical and etheric bodies together—which lies in the bed during sleep, this human body itself has a singular appearance, a characteristic of which can be expressed in words somewhat as follows. Only in the very first years of a child's life does this human body as seen during sleep show a certain similarity with the weaving life and activity in the other kingdoms of nature. The body of a grown-up person, however, or of a child from a certain age onwards, when seen from the viewpoint of sleep, reveals a constant process of decay, of destruction. Every night during sleep the forces of destruction are ever and again subjugated by the forces of growth; what is destroyed by day is repaired during the night, but the forces of destruction are always in excess. And the consequence of this fact is that we die. The forces that are renewed during the night are never the equal of those that have been used up during the waking life of day, so that in the normal life of the human being a certain surplus of destructive forces is always present. This surplus accumulates and the natural death of old age ensues when the destructive forces eclipse the upbuilding forces.

Thus when we observe the human being from the viewpoint of sleep we are actually witnessing a process of destruction—but without sadness. For the feelings we might have in our waking life about this process of destruction are absent when we see it from the viewpoint of sleep, because then we know that it is the precondition of man's true spiritual development. No being who did not destroy his body in some measure would be capable of thinking or of developing an inner life of soul. No life of soul as experienced by man would be possible if the process of growth were not opposed by processes of destruction. We therefore regard these processes of destruction in the human organism as the precondition of man's life of soul and feel the whole development to be beneficial. Looked at from the other side of life, the fact that man's body can gradually be dissolved is felt to be a blessing. Not only do things look different when viewed from the other side of life but all our feelings and ideas are different; consciousness during sleep has always before it the spectacle of the body in decline—and rightly in decline.

Study of the life between death and rebirth, however, affords a different spectacle. A certain connection with the preceding life is experienced for a time after death. All of you are aware that this is the case during the period of Kamaloka; even after that period, however, the experience of connection with the previous life continues for a time. But then, at a certain point during the life between death and rebirth, a reversal of all ordinary vision and perception takes place, a reversal far more radical than takes place during sleep-consciousness. During existence on Earth we look out from our body into the world that is not our body; from the point of time to which I have just referred, between death and the new birth, we direct hardly a gaze to the universe around us but look with all the great intensity at what may now be called the human body; we discern all its secrets. Thus between death and rebirth there comes a moment when we begin to take special interest in the human body. It is extremely difficult to describe these conditions and it can really only be done with halting words. There comes a time between death and the new birth when we feel as if the whole universe were within us and outside us only the human body. We feel that the stars and other heavenly worlds are within our being, just as here on Earth we feel that the stomach, the liver, the spleen, are within us. Everything that here, in life on Earth, is outside us becomes in that other life an inner world, and just as here we look outwards to the stars, clouds and so forth, in that other life we gaze at the human body. At which human body?

To understand this we must be clear that the new human being who at his next birth is to enter into existence, has for a long time previously been preparing his essential characteristics. Preparation for a return to the Earth begins a long time before birth or conception. The conditions of central importance here are quite different from those accepted by modern statistical biology which assumes that when a human being comes into existence through birth he simply inherits certain traits from his father, mother, grandparents and the whole line of ancestors. Quite an otherwise attractive little book about Goethe has recently been published, in which his characteristic qualities are traced back to his ancestors. Outwardly speaking, that is absolutely correct in the sense I have often indicated, namely, that there is no contradiction between a scientific fact that is correctly presented and the facts brought forward by Spiritual Science. It is just as if someone were to say: Here is a man; how comes it that he is alive? It is because he has lungs inside him and there is air outside. Needless to say, that is quite correct. But someone else may turn up and say: This man is alive for an entirely different reason. A fortnight ago he fell into the water and I jumped in after him and pulled him out; but for that he would not be alive today! Both these assertions are correct. In the same way, natural science is quite correct when it says that a man bears within himself characteristics inherited from his ancestors; but it is equally correct to attribute them to his karma and other factors. In principle, therefore, Spiritual Science cannot be intolerant; it is external natural science alone that can be intolerant, for example, in rejecting Spiritual Science. Someone may insist that he has preserved the characteristics of his own ancestors. But there is also the fact that from a certain point of time between death and rebirth a human being himself begins to develop forces which work down upon his ancestors. Long before an individual enters into physical existence there is a mysterious connection between himself and the whole line of his ancestors. And the reason why specific characteristics appear in a line of ancestors is that perhaps only after hundreds of years a particular individual is to be born from that ancestral line. This human being who is to be born, perhaps centuries later, from a line of ancestors, regulates their characteristics from the spiritual world. Thus Goethe—to take this example once again—manifests the qualities of his ancestors because he worked continuously in the spiritual world with the aim of implanting into these ancestors qualities that were subsequently to be his. And what is true of Goethe is true of every human being.

From a specific point of time between death and rebirth, therefore, a human being is already concerned with the preparation of his later earthly existence. The physical body which a man has on Earth does not by any means derive in all details from the physical lives of his ancestors, nor indeed from processes that can operate on the Earth. The physical body we bear is in itself fourfold. It has evolved through the periods of Saturn, Sun, Moon and Earth. Its very first foundation was laid during the Old Saturn period; during the Old Sun period the etheric body was woven into this foundation; during the Old Moon period the astral body was added and then, during the Earth period, the Ego, the ‘I’. As a result of these processes the physical body has undergone many changes. Thus we have within us the transformed Saturn foundation, the transformed Sun and Moon conditions. Our physical human body is the product of transformed physical conditions. The only part of all this that is visible is what has come from the Earth; everything else is invisible. Man's physical body is visible because he takes in the substances of the Earth, transforms them into his blood and permeates them with something that is invisible. In reality we see only the blood and what has been transformed by the blood, that is to say, a quarter of the physical human body; the other three-quarters are invisible. In the first place there is an invisible framework containing invisible currents—all this exists in the form of forces. Within these invisible currents there are also the influences exercised by one current upon another. All this is invisible. And now this threefold entity is filled out, permeated by the foodstuffs that have been transformed into blood. It is through this process that the physical body becomes visible. And it is only when we come to deal with the laws governing this visible structure that we are in the earthly realm itself. Everything else stems from cosmic, not from earthly conditions and has already been prepared when, at the time of conception, the first physical atom of the human being comes into existence. Thus what is later on to become the body of the human being has been prepared in past ages without any physical connection with the ultimate father and mother. It was then that the qualities transmitted by heredity were first worked into the process of development.

The human soul looks down upon what is thus being prepared from the above-mentioned point of time onwards between death and the new birth. It is the spiritual embryo, the spiritual seed of life. This is what constitutes the soul's outer world. Notice the difference between what is seen when we wake spiritually during sleep and have clairvoyant perception of the human body undergoing a process of continual destruction, and what is seen when our own inner organism is perceived as outer world. The outer world is then the inner man in process of coming into being. This means that we are then seeing the reverse of what is perceived clairvoyantly during sleep. During sleep we feel that our inner organs are part of the outer world, but otherwise what we see is a process of destruction. From the above-mentioned time onwards between death and rebirth our gaze is focused upon a human body in process of coming into being. Man is unable to preserve any remembrance of what he has seen between death and rebirth, but the spectacle of the building of the wonderful structure of the human body is veritably more splendid than anything to be seen when we gaze at the starry heavens or at the physical world with vision dependent in any respect upon the physical body. The mysteries of existence are truly great, even when contemplated from the standpoint of our physical senses only, but far greater still is the spectacle before us when, instead of external perception of our inner organs, we gaze at the human body that is in process of coming into being with all its mysteries. We then see how everything is directed to the purpose of enabling the human being to cope with existence when he enters the physical world through birth.

There is nothing that can truly be called bliss or blessedness except vision of the process of creation, of ‘becoming’. Perception of anything already in existence is trivial compared with vision of what is in process of coming into being; and what is meant by speaking of the states of bliss or blessedness which can be experienced by man between death and rebirth is that during this period he can behold what is in process of coming into being. Truths such as these, that have been revealed through the ages and grasped by minds adequately prepared, are indicated in words to be found in the ‘Prologue in Heaven’ in Goethe's Faust:

Das Werdende, das ewig wirkt und lebt,
Umfass' euch mit der Liebe holden Schranken,
Und was in schwankender Erscheinung schwebt,
Erfistiget mit dauernden Gedanken.

May that which works and lives, the ever-growing,
In bonds of love enfold you, mercy-fraught,
And Seeming's changeful forms, around you flowing,
Do ye arrest, in ever-during thought!

(Tr. Anna Swanwick, L.L.D.,
Bohn's Standard Library)

The difference between vision in the world between birth and death and the world between death and rebirth is that in the former we behold what is already in existence and in the latter what is coming into being.

The thought might occur: Is a man, then, concerned only with the vision of his own being? No, that is not the case. For at the stage of coming into being this body is actually part of the outer world; it is the manifested expression of divine mysteries. And it is then that we realise for the first time why the physical body—which after all is only maltreated between birth and death—may be seen as the temple of cosmic mysteries, for it contains more of the outer world than is seen when we are within it during earthly existence. At that stage between death and rebirth what is otherwise outer world is our inner world; what is otherwise called Universe is now that of which we can say ‘I’—and what we then behold is outer world. We must not allow ourselves to be shocked by the fact that when we are looking at our body—or rather the body that will subsequently be ours—all other bodies which are coming into being must naturally also be there. This is of no significance because here it is simply a matter of number. In point of fact, differentiation between human bodies that can be of interest and importance to us has little significance until shortly before human beings enter into physical existence. For the greater part of the period between death and the new birth, when we are looking down upon the body that is coming into being, it is actually the case that the single bodies are differentiated only according to their number. If we want to study the essential properties of a grain of wheat, it will not make much difference whether we pick an car from a grain of wheat in a particular field or go fifty paces farther on and pick one there. As far as the essential properties are concerned, one grain is as good as another. Something similar applies when between death and rebirth we are gazing at our own body; the fact that it is our own has significance only for the future because later on we are to inhabit it on the Earth. At the moment it interests us only as the bearer of sublime cosmic mysteries and blessedness consists in the fact that it can be contemplated just like any other human body. Here we stand before the mystery of Number which will not be further considered now, but among many other relevant aspects there is this, namely, that Number—that is to say, multiple existence—cannot be regarded from the spiritual standpoint exactly as it is from the physical. What is seen in countless examples will again be seen as a unity.

Through the body we feel ourselves to be in the Universe and through what in physical life is called Universe we feel that we are living within our own Ego-hood. Such is the difference when the world is contemplated at one time from this world and at another from yonder.

For the seer, the most significant moment between death and the new birth is when the human being concerned ceases to concern himself only with his last life and begins to direct his attention to what is in process of coming into existence. The shattering impression received by the seer when, as he follows a soul between death and the new birth, this soul begins to be concerned with what is coming into being—this shattering impression is due to the fact that the soul itself at this moment experiences a severe shock. The only experience comparable with it is the coming of death in physical existence, when the human being passes over from life into being. In the other case—although it is impossible to describe it quite exactly—the transition is from something connected with a life that ended in death to experience of the process of ‘becoming’, of resurrection. The soul encounters that which bears a new life germinally within it. This is the moment of death in reverse. That is why it is so immensely significant.

In connection with these things we must turn our minds to the course of human evolution on the Earth. Let us look back to an age, for example the ancient Egypto-Chaldean epoch, when our souls, looking out through physical bodies, did not see the stars merely as material bodies in the heavens; spiritual Beings were connected with the stars—although this experience occurred only in certain intermediate states during the life between birth and death. The souls of men were deeply affected by this vista and in those times impressions from the spiritual world crowded in upon them. It was inevitable that in the course of evolution the possibility of beholding the spiritual should gradually cease and man's gaze be limited to the material world. This came about in the Graeco-Latin epoch, when men's gaze was diverted to an ever greater extent from the spiritual world and limited to the world of the senses. And now we ourselves are living in an era when it is becoming more and more impossible for the soul to see or detect spiritual reality in the life of the physical environment. The Earth is now dying, withering away, and man is deeply involved in this process. Thus whereas in the Egypto-Chaldean epoch men still beheld the spiritual around them, they now see only what is material and actually boast of having established a science which deals only with what is physical and material. This process will go to further and further lengths. A time will come when men will lose interest in the direct impressions of the world of the senses and will concentrate attention on what is sub-material, sub-sensory. Today, in fact, we can already detect the approach of the time when men will be interested only in what is sub-sensory, below the level of the sense-world. This often becomes very obvious, for example when modern physics no longer concerns itself with colours as such. In reality it takes no account of the actual quality of colour but concerns itself only with the vibrations and oscillations below colour. In many books today you can read the nonsensical statement that a yellow colour, for example, is merely a matter of oscillations, wave-lengths. Observation here is already diverted from the quality of the colour and directed to something that is not in the yellow colour at all but yet is considered to be the reality. You can find books on physics and even on physiology today in which it is emphasised that attention should no longer be fettered to the direct sense-impression but that everything resolves itself into vibrations and wave-lengths. This kind of observation will go to further and further extremes. No attention will be paid to material existence as such and account will be taken only of the working of forces. Historically, one example suffices in order to provide empirical evidence of this. If you refer to du Bois-Reymond's lecture ‘On the Boundaries of Knowledge’, given on 14th August, 1872, you will find a peculiar expression for something that Laplace already described, the expression ‘astronomical knowledge of a material system’—that is to say when what lies behind a light- or colour-process is presented as something only brought about by mathematical-physical forces. A time will come when human souls—and some of those who are being educated in certain schools today will have the best possible foundations for this attitude in their next incarnation—will have lost real interest in the world of light and radiant colour and enquire only into the working of forces. People will no longer have any interest in violet or red but will be concerned only with wave-lengths.

This withering of man's inner spirituality is something that is approaching and Anthroposophy is there to counter it in every detail. It is not only our present form of education that helps to bring about this withering; the trend is there in every domain of life. It is in contrast to everyday life when with our Anthroposophy we want to give again to the souls of men something that fertilises them, that is not only a maya of the senses but springs forth as spirit. And this we can do when we impart to human souls knowledge that will enable them to live in the true world in their following incarnations. We have to speak of these things in a world which with its indifference to form and colour is in such contrast to what we ourselves desire; for it is particularly in regard to colours that the world of today is preparing souls to thwart what we want to achieve. We must work not only according to the concepts and ideas of everyday existence but with cosmological ideas. Hence it is not a mere liking on our part when we arrange surroundings such as those to be seen in this room¹ but it is connected with the very nature of Spiritual Science. Immediate response to what is presented to the senses must again be generated in the soul in order that active life in the spirit may begin. Now, in this incarnation, each one of us can assimilate Anthroposophy in the life of soul; and what is now assimilated is transformed into faculties for the new incarnation. Then, during his life between death and the next birth, the individual sends from his soul into his body that is coming into being influences which prepare his future bodily faculties to adopt a more spiritual view of the world. This is impossible for him without Anthroposophy. If he rejects Anthroposophy he prepares his body to see nothing but barren forces and to be blind to the revelations of the senses.

And now something shall be said that enables a seer to form a judgement of the mission of Anthroposophy.

When a seer today directs his gaze to the life between death and the new birth of souls who have already passed beyond the above-mentioned point of time and are contemplating the body that is coming into being for a further existence, he may realise that this body will afford the soul no possibility of Developing faculties for the comprehension of spiritual truths. For if such faculties are to be part of life in the physical body, they must have been implanted before birth. Hence in the immediate future more and more human beings will be devoid of the faculties needed for the acceptance of spiritual knowledge—a state of things that has existed for some time already. Before the seer there will be a vista of souls who in previous lives deprived themselves of the possibility of accepting any knowledge of a spiritual kind. In their life between death and rebirth such souls can indeed gaze at a process of development, but it is a development in which something is inevitably lacking—that is the tragic aspect. These vistas lead to a grasp of the mission of Anthroposophy. It is a shattering experience to see a soul whose gaze is directed towards its future incarnation, its future body, beholding a budding, burgeoning process and yet being obliged to realise: something will be lacking in that body but I cannot provide it because my previous incarnation is responsible. In a more trivial sense this experience may be compared with being obliged to work at something knowing from the outset that ultimately it is bound to be imperfect. Try to be vividly aware of the difference: either you can do the work perfectly and be happy in the prospect, or you are condemned from the outset to leave it imperfect.

This is the great question: are human souls in the spiritual world to be condemned in increasing numbers to look down upon bodies which must remain imperfect, or can this be avoided? If this fate is to be avoided, souls must accept during their life in physical bodies the proclamation and tidings of the spiritual worlds.

What those who make known these tidings regard as their task is verily not derived from earthly ideals but from the vista of the entire span of life, that is to say, when to life on Earth is added the period of existence between death and the new birth. Herein is revealed the possibility of a fruitful future for humanity, the possibility too of militating against the withering of the souls of men. The feeling can then be born in us that Spiritual Science must be there, must exist in the world. Spiritual Science is a sine qua non for the life of mankind in the future but not in the sense that is applicable to some other kind of knowledge. Spiritual Science imparts life, not concepts and ideas only. But the concepts of Spiritual Science, accepted in one incarnation, bring life, inner vitality, inner forcefulness. What Spiritual Science gives to man is an elixir of life, a vital force of life. Hence anyone who regards himself as belonging to a Movement for the promulgation of Spiritual Science should feel Spiritual Science to be a dire necessity in life, unlike anything that originates from other unions and societies. The realisation of being vitally involved in the necessities of existence is the right feeling to have in regard to Spiritual Science.

We have embarked upon these studies of the life between death and rebirth in order that by turning our minds to the other side of existence we may receive from there the impulse that can kindle in us enthusiasm for Spiritual Science.

• 1. Dr. Steiner recommended that restful and refreshing colours should be displayed in lecture halls and rooms used for the presentation and study of Spiritual Science, also in rooms for the sick.