The Rudolf Steiner Archive

6. Superstition from the Perspective of the Science of the Spirit

[ 1 ] Some time ago, while I was staying in a small town in Germany, I met a poet and playwright, and at the time we met, he was in the midst of finishing a play. One afternoon, as I noticed during a visit I had to pay him, he was working on finishing his play with what seemed like steam-engine-like energy. It was impossible to talk to him, because his sole concern was to push the work forward as quickly as possible. In the evening, shortly before eight o’clock, I went for a walk. I ran into my good playwright as he was whizzing by on his bicycle at breakneck speed; he was racing to the post office and couldn’t be stopped. But I was curious—you’ll see why in a moment—as to why he was rushing to the post office so extraordinarily quickly on that particular day. It was shortly before eight o’clock, when the post office was closing. When he returned, I asked him why he had to rush to the post office today of all days, and he told me there was a special reason.

[ 2 ] You will best understand this situation if I preface it by saying that, in accordance with a trend that was just beginning at the time but soon became dominant, the playwright in question was considered one of the freest spirits of his day and expressed what he called his worldview in the most liberated language. He was quite a progressive thinker. I’d like to show, by adding the following, that I’m not being indiscreet. If he were here, he’d be quite pleased to hear that I’m recounting this story. Now we’ll be able to form an opinion about what he said when he came out of the post office: “I went to the post office so quickly because I wanted to mail my play today.” Today is the last day of good fortune. If I had waited until tomorrow, I would have run the risk of the theater management rejecting the play. “Did you actually finish it?” I asked, because it seemed impossible to me. “No,” he said, “but I wrote a letter asking them to send the play back to me so I can rework the final scenes.” There—that was the free spirit!

[ 3 ] I was reminded of a lady who, many years ago, had been working on a dress and wanted to finish it and wear it on Thursday. If she had worn it for the first time on Friday, it would surely have backfired on her. People usually don’t give it the consideration it deserves—what it means for our feelings and thoughts in the present when a free spirit undertakes a mission, like the poet dashing to the post office to send off the drama unfinished and then have it sent back so he can finish it. You see that what is called superstition can, at its core, be something quite remarkable. It may be something completely at odds with a person’s worldview—insofar as they articulate it—and it may be that they will vehemently protest, in a bombastic manner, that they have nothing to do with such superstition. But when it comes down to it, there are back doors through which this superstition can creep in quite effectively.

[ 4 ] We live in an age in which people speak of all manner of superstitions in the most dismissive sense. At the same time, however, it is the case in the present day that those who speak of superstition sometimes have absolutely no idea through which back door superstition is creeping in on them. After all, it doesn’t have to be an old form of superstition, as in the case of this playwright zooming along on his bicycle. All sorts of new forms of superstition can also arise. And it may well be that the very person who speaks of the old forms of superstition with a shrug of the shoulders is the one most exposed to some new form of superstition. It may be difficult to gain any clarity on these very concepts of superstition in our present age, for there is such a prevailing tendency today to regard everything one believes as the only reasonable thing and to deny everything one does not believe. Thus, it is precisely this way of thinking that will open the floodgates to various new forms of superstition in our time. Therefore, we cannot simply continue with the common talk about superstition if we wish to thoroughly engage with what, from the perspective of spiritual science, may be called superstition.

[ 5 ] Various old traditions have carried over into our time—various beliefs held by our ancestors, various ideas that were considered strictly scientific by our ancestors and the scholars of antiquity, but which today are dismissed as superstition. We ask ourselves: Shouldn’t it occur even briefly to those who shrug off the old traditions—which today seem scientifically advanced—that, under certain circumstances, what is believed today might be erroneous? Could it not be that, a few centuries from now, our descendants might regard this as the most absurd superstition? Certainly, those who believe they stand on the firm ground of natural science will, for example, be easily inclined to dismiss as superstition anything expressed from a standpoint that posits a spiritual world alongside the physically perceptible one. On the other hand, it is easy to understand that—perhaps just as unfounded, as cannot be denied—theosophical or spiritual-scientific perspectives may challenge and characterize the superstition of natural science. The fact that one party or another labels or perceives this or that as superstition can never serve as a defining characteristic of the true nature of superstition. Many things that have come down to us from ancient times show us, precisely when they are truly tangible superstitions, that such matters depend far less on human logic or human reason than on human habits of thought—on what people have become accustomed to thinking.

[ 6 ] How much is published today in our popular literature and daily newspapers that seems to run completely counter to enlightened thinking! For example, there is a city in Germany—not far from Berlin—where you would search in vain for a No. 13 horse-drawn carriage. The person who used to have it stopped getting any passengers. Number 13 was omitted. In hotels, too, you’ll often find that number 13 is missing from the room numbers. You’ll also find in bathhouses—where there are all sorts of enlightened doctors—that number 13 is omitted from the changing rooms because no one wants to go in there. And this is right in the midst of—and alongside—the mindset of today’s literature and daily press. But anyone who has even a little insight into the human soul will find that superstition is, after all, something that creeps quite quietly into people’s thoughts and feelings.

[ 7 ] For example, there is a popular little book on superstition that contains some sensible ideas and some absurd ones. But then, after the author has thoroughly debunked astrology, astronomy, and other forms of superstition, he goes on to claim that in earlier times there were supposedly astrologers who drew up horoscopes for people and determined their fate based on the moment of their birth. To his knowledge, such astrologers no longer exist; that task is now performed by midwives. Not in Berlin, mind you, but it happens elsewhere in Germany. — That is a sentence that actually appears in this little book on superstition. I don’t believe anyone can describe it as anything other than yet another form of superstition, because otherwise they would have to say that there are a great many astrologers today who draw up horoscopes. What the man says does not correspond to the facts at all; it is therefore the purest superstition. Any investigation could show him the opposite of his claim. Similar ideas creep into people’s consciousness every day, even if they are less tangible, and it would be considered a paradox if I were to call them superstition.

[ 8 ] For some time now, the view has emerged in certain circles of scientific inquiry that physical causes—and possibly physical causes specific to a particular realm, namely the sexual realm—must be sought for everything that manifests as memory in the psychological and spiritual realm of the human being. And not only that, but there are numerous writings and pamphlets that seek to examine the mental states of great minds. Until recently, a scholar from Leipzig went to the trouble of examining a whole series of great minds—including Goethe, Schopenhauer, Scheffel, and Conrad Ferdinand Meyer—to determine to what extent they might actually have been afflicted by this or that mental illness and whether their genius was connected to this or that mental disorder. On the other hand, a person’s predisposition to physical illness is linked to heredity, and scarcely a single daily event in our time escapes such an interpretation. Here we are dealing with a superstition that is just now emerging, but which pervades our education like a plague. Future generations will not understand how it was possible for science to have indulged in such superstition for a time. And if our descendants were to treat us in the same way—judging what science believes and teaches today in the same way that we judge what our ancestors believed in earlier times—then those who are active in this field today will fare very badly indeed. Thus, simply by taking an unbiased look at the facts, we can already see that the old forms of superstition are rightly being thrown out the window, while, on the other hand, new forms are creeping in that are simply not yet recognized as such.

[ 9 ] Anyone who takes a brief look around the world of science knows how many demons of superstition creep in here and there—demons that, fortunately, have only a short lifespan, but can be no less harmful for that. Trends in medicine are sometimes not far removed from what one might call superstition. I would like to give an example of this. During my time as a teacher, I was able to make many observations that were only possible because I had the opportunity to explore a broad field of human development. It has now been well over twenty years since it was customary to give small children—around the ages of two, three, or four—red wine, or wine in general. One could see how, due to a certain trend in medicine, children of this age in particular were given a glass of red wine at every meal. Anyone observing such a thing may be looking at too short a time frame to assess the effects of these practices. If one compares people who are twenty years old today—having been children between the ages of two and five back then—with others who did not receive wine for fortification at that time, the difference between those who received wine and those who did not is evident in their current nervous disposition—as one might express it in materialistic terms today.

[ 10 ] Back then, there was a superstition that wine contained a certain strength. That was a fashionable superstition. This belief was propagated just as any other superstitious belief is propagated. Now we can set all that aside and move on to other areas where one no longer speaks of superstition at all, even though the psychological reality within human beings is exactly the same. If we were to speak of the strange idols, fetishes, and catchphrases that people pursue in social and political life—just as others pursue certain idols in other spheres—and of the degree of superstition contained therein, then you would see: If that degree of superstition does not find its outlet in one sphere, it simply shifts to another. So if a person rises above superstition in one area, it quickly manifests itself in another area where it is simply not as noticeable.

[ 11 ] Now that we have outlined the situation to some extent, perhaps we may try to identify the actual source of superstition—that is, the peculiar state of mind in which a person finds themselves, a person whom we may describe as superstitious. Above all, it must be said that a person’s bias toward one school of thought or another plays the greatest possible role in the development of this state of mind. The same fact will be interpreted in one way or another, depending on a person’s school of thought. Let us try to visualize a concrete case. The French physiologist Richet, who is often mentioned these days, had the following experience: He was walking down the street one day, and a person was also walking on the other side of the street. At that moment, he had the thought: It is strange, after all, that Professor Lacassagne is in Paris today. But it is not really that strange. Fourteen days ago, Professor Lacassagne sent me an article and wrote that he would be here in fourteen days. Richet was just about to cross to the other side to greet him when he reminded himself that he was on his way to the editorial office, and the other man would probably be coming there as well. At that very moment, it occurred to him how much the professor resembled an ophthalmologist he knew. Richet goes to the editorial office, and an hour later Professor Lacassagne arrives there. Richet says to him, “I saw you on the street an hour ago.” — The professor replies, “That’s not possible. I wasn’t there an hour ago; I was somewhere else entirely.” — There’s no doubt that Richet couldn’t have seen him. It is curious how two people often relate to one another when they have different ways of thinking. Richet saw a man and had the distinct impression that he was seeing Professor L. But when he saw Professor L. standing before him, it seemed quite foolish to him to have mistaken another man—who was tall and blond—for Professor L., whereas the latter is of medium height and wears a dark mustache. Richet, however, is a man who believes in occult phenomena and the transmission of thoughts. He told himself, “Professor L. is in Paris and thought he’d go to the editorial office”—and at that very moment, I saw that thought through the transmission of thoughts!

[ 12 ] Lehmann, a Danish researcher who has written a book on “Superstition and Sorcery,” takes a different view. He says: “Richet believes in telepathy; that is why he sees something mystical in this very ordinary experience—something that is supposed to prove the validity of his belief—but in doing so, he completely overlooks the surrounding circumstances that explain the matter in a perfectly natural way. I myself have experienced several such cases, and since I do not believe in telepathy, I have always sought and found an obvious cause for the phenomenon.”

[ 13 ] Here you have two people who, depending on their way of thinking, assess the same event in completely different ways. I myself would agree with the Danish researcher Lehmann, for those who approach occult matters with inadequate means are most likely to overshoot the mark and, as in this case, can use them to explain all sorts of things in the world. But you can see from this how the bias a person holds regarding his or her line of thought causes him or her to view another person standing before him or her in such a colored light.

[ 14 ] Now consider how things, if they are not thoroughly understood, are reflected in the human soul. This brings us to what must be said, from the perspective of the spiritual sciences, about the true nature of superstition. Today you can read countless writings and debates about the superstition surrounding alchemy—that ill-fated art of making gold—to which so many have devoted themselves. Those who wrote about it were, for the most part—by today’s standards—exceptionally capable, objective researchers in other fields. With their writings, in which the art of making gold is described in one way or another here and there, they occupy a prominent place. But what you read there mostly strikes you as the purest madness, as the most utter nonsense. Moreover, in numerous cases it appears to be such an obvious hoax that it is very easy to see how, back when people believed such things, one error after another was spread in this field. Even though chemistry developed out of alchemy, we must be infinitely glad that we finally have true chemical science, in contrast to those fables and errors to which our ancestors succumbed in the field of alchemy. Perhaps the easiest way for us to understand precisely what constitutes a delusion here is to consider a few simple cases to illustrate how such things played out. Let us now set aside the number thirteen, but you know that for some people the number seven evokes something dreadful; that it is regarded by some as a lucky number, but sometimes also as an unlucky number, with which magical effects are said to be associated. I need only mention something that can lead you to what is connected with the number seven. I do not merely wish to mention that the number seven is also “found” in purely physical nature—seven colors, seven tones, and so on—which has already been mentioned here many times and from which one can conclude that this or that is indeed connected with the number seven. But let us set that aside for today. Let us draw attention to something else.

[ 15 ] There is a disease—pneumonia—that progresses for seven days and then subsides. It is not until the seventh day that the crisis sets in, so that anyone treating such a patient must pay particular attention to this physical rhythm. We have thus linked a very specific process to the number seven—something that can be observed in every single case. Yet today’s materialistic science refuses to offer any explanation for this process whatsoever. If we were to trace medicine back to ancient times—which you must not view merely as a collection of errors, as it is portrayed today in the history of medicine—it would become clear that the ancient physicians and naturalists knew how all life unfolds according to a certain rhythm, that there is a rhythmic connection between what happens within the human being and certain processes taking place out there in the great natural world, in the macrocosm. Because human beings are, in fact, born from the macrocosm and their lives unfold in accordance with certain external processes, human life, too, unfolds according to a specific rhythm. Anyone familiar with the rhythm of human life knows full well that in an organ such as the lung there is a rising and falling rhythm that spans twenty-eight days—that is, four times seven days—during which certain functional strengths and weaknesses occur. Once one recognizes this fundamental principle, it is not surprising that lung disease becomes particularly dangerous precisely where it, so to speak, clashes with the very rhythm that underlies all life phenomena. In short, if we were to shed light on this in the spirit of spiritual science—that is, through a deeper understanding of the nature of the human being, not in some superstitious way, but in a manner that can be described as strictly law-governed—we would see how we can explain why, after seven days, a particular crisis in pneumonia is ripe to occur. But in our materialistic age, people do not want to address such matters, which can only be explored through the methods of spiritual science.

[ 16 ] There was a time when doctors not only knew that pneumonia goes through this crisis on the seventh day, but also knew why that is the case. They knew how this is connected to the healthy rhythm as well. But this insight from the spiritual sciences has been forgotten in everyday life. The actual law is no longer known; it has been lost to humanity. All that remained was the dry number seven. Eventually, people no longer knew why pneumonia happens to exhibit something quite special after seven days. And then, of course, one takes such a thing out of context without being able or willing to understand it further. People apply it because they see something special in the number itself. They tell themselves that something special is connected to the number seven. Somehow, they can apply it here or there. As long as one sticks to outward appearances and does not look into the matter itself, there is no reason to apply it here or there. So one applies it where there appears to be a reason to do so. And above all, a human law comes into play here that is all too understandable: In all cases where one has established such a concept from abstraction, where one applies it and sees that it fits, things work out; but if it doesn’t fit, one overlooks it.

[ 17 ] The same is true of some folk sayings. Anyone who grew up in the countryside will know exactly how the first thunderstorm of spring is used to predict this or that. If the prediction comes true, it is accepted as fact; if it does not, it is forgotten. Nevertheless, some folk sayings contain profound wisdom, and one should explore them to uncover that wisdom. Then, once again, it is a matter not of applying the purely superficial aspects of superstition, but of seeking to truly delve into the matter itself. Certainly, I, too, have quite enjoyed it when, alongside other folk sayings, this one is once again voiced: “If the rooster crows on the manure heap, the weather will change—or it will stay as it is.” — Here a healthy trait is revealed that must not be generalized but rather individualized. And that is the essential point upon which our intellectual and spiritual development should hinge.

[ 18 ] Many aspects of alchemy have unfolded in a similar way, though not quite as transparent. Some of you who have already attended these lectures in previous years will recall that when the Rosicrucian initiation and the Philosopher’s Stone were discussed at that time, it was shown how, in genuine spiritual science throughout the ages, the Philosopher’s Stone is understood as something that, when one delves into it, can certainly hold its own even against our most modern thinking today. Among the various methods that lead human beings to higher knowledge—namely, to Rosicrucian initiation—there is also one that is specifically called the “preparation of the Philosopher’s Stone.” This preparation of the Philosopher’s Stone refers to something connected with the regulation of the breathing process. Among the various methods through which a person works their way up into the higher worlds is a certain awareness and a form of breathing regulated by spiritual laws at specific times. According to very specific instructions, one who becomes a disciple of spiritual science in the positive sense breathes in this manner.

[ 19 ] This breathing has a very specific effect on the entire organism, one that conventional science can no longer investigate because it knows nothing about the matter. Through the instrument of his own body, the human being develops within himself something very specific—something that truly manifests in his life right down into his body, which is then present and enables him to view the world in an entirely different way, because breathing produces an effect that expresses itself even in the mineral composition of the physical body. Thus, by regulating the rhythm of breathing within the human being himself through his own instrument, we have produced something that has been called the Philosopher’s Stone or the wise stone. It is what must be produced within the human organism if the human being is to grow into the higher worlds. The process can be described precisely, but it cannot simply be communicated to just anyone. For, by the very nature of the matter, only those who do so in a completely selfless manner, unbound by any personal considerations, can apply this process.

[ 20 ] Once, when I was speaking to a small group about how this is already possible today—as I would also hint at unreservedly in one of my lectures—though the very last point should not be mentioned, because that would require referring to the training in spiritual science itself—one person said afterward: “But it would be quite good if this method—of producing a specific mineral within the human being—were made public. For this mineral would be very useful if it could be produced on a large scale.” — I had to reply: “The very fact that you are asking this question is the reason why it must not be made public. As long as such questions are asked, it is simply impossible for this to be made public. You can find it in the literature, but it is veiled there. It is understandable only to those who, through the preparatory course, have become familiar with this mode of expression.” “Mercury,” “Philosopher’s Stone,” and “silver” actually mean something entirely different. And when one speaks of the combination of mercury and its addition to any other product, “mercury” and “Philosopher’s Stone” here mean something entirely different from the arrangement of external objects.

[ 21 ] But these things do exist in literature. Those who have no idea what the terms mean in this context—and especially the symbols associated with them—simply take the matter literally. Taken literally, however, it is utter nonsense. For example, a Danish researcher on superstition once read about remarkable figures of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, such as Raimundus Lullus and others. Everyone is free to regard him as a fraud, a charlatan, or the greatest sage of his time, depending on how they understand him. Now, however, it is said that Raimundus Lullus succeeded, after thirty years of study—an arduous undertaking for most people—in finding the philosopher’s stone, and that this enabled him to make gold by using a portion of the stone to transform a certain amount of mercury into a powder that still possessed all the properties of the stone. If one takes a small amount of this powder, it in turn acquires the ability to transform the mercury. A small amount is then taken from this, and so on, until gold is ultimately produced.

[ 22 ] Now, if someone goes and tries this—if they take what they find in the book, take certain substances, mix them, and add them to mercury—that is the most utter nonsense one could possibly do. Everyone has every right to make fun of it. The Danish researcher does so as well. He makes fun of it. But anyone who understands how to interpret the terms will find that the “Philosopher’s Stone” is just as precisely described in the literature as it is in the writings of Raimundus Lullus—and that this is how he achieved his goal. That is the marvelous thing about it: the statement has been known for centuries and is still correct today. This shows those who know anything about it just how magnificently true it is. To them, it is then clear that Raimundus Lullus truly possessed the soul of one of the wisest men of his age. Those, on the other hand, who focus only on the outward phrasing are really talking nonsense.

[ 23 ] Many others who believed that the wise alchemist had created artificial gold also engaged in this nonsense, and they, too, lost their minds—although I believe they had already lost a little of it by the time they began this story. Psychiatrists, however, claim that this is what caused them to lose their minds. They may well have lost their fortunes, for in the end they found no gold. Therefore, one cannot entirely blame the writer who calls alchemy nonsense, for—as far as he could understand it—it is indeed nothing but nonsense. In fact, however, no nonsense is so great that it cannot be believed by one person or another.

[ 24 ] This is connected to a tendency that you can experience day after day in the field of spiritual science. You will easily observe the following: When you confront this or that natural phenomenon that requires explanation, and attempt to explain such a phenomenon in connection with its spiritual underpinnings—and claim to trace an everyday phenomenon back to its spiritual basis—you will not arouse any particular interest among most people today. Many people today do not seek the explainable, but rather the inexplicable. They are happy when they can find something that remains inexplicable to them. Tell someone that something has happened here or there for which no one has an explanation, and they are satisfied. People, in other words, want to be pointed directly toward the inexplicable. They do not want to penetrate what is presented to them, but rather to multiply the wondrous. Try to explain something to a person about the development of plants—so that they can grasp it from the very foundations of development and look deeply into nature, and then, starting from the sensory realm, where one grasps the spirit at one end, be led deep into the spiritual—then they cannot believe in a spiritual world! But tell such a person that a hand was lost from a statue, found in another city, and put back in place, and they will say: “No human can explain that; therefore, I believe in a spiritual world.” — The fact is that people want to remain ignorant of the spiritual realm because they believe it must not be fathomed. In doing so, however, they open the floodgates to superstition in every nook and cranny.

[ 25 ] If a person does not strive for impartiality using the faculties available to them through reason and logical thinking, then the moment they choose not to rely on these faculties—as soon as something occurs that is different from what they are accustomed to—they are already at the mercy of all manner of superstition. For example—forgive me for saying this, even though I stand firmly on the ground of spiritual science and theosophy—one could observe how often it is precisely those who stand on the ground of theosophy who reject what, in the sense of spiritual science, could lead to enlightenment. When the theosophical movement began in the world, there were two significant human individualities through whom this wisdom was first revealed to humanity. Those who received this wisdom generally did not behave as one might expect... [gap]. This has, after all, been described here countless times. For how could one have behaved in the face of a truth received from an unknown source? The first mediators of the Theosophical worldview said: “We received the wisdom we entrusted to this or that book from personalities who remain in the background.” — One could have responded as follows: “Well, these are, after all, honorable people who bring this wisdom, but we want to examine this wisdom for ourselves.” — It is always emphasized that in the higher worlds, only those who have acquired special abilities can conduct research. But if the wisdom has been communicated in such a way that it is verifiable, what then? In many cases, the wisdom has not been subjected to scrutiny. Some have accepted the matter in good faith because they were told that it came from higher individualities. Others, however, said: Whether it is well-founded or not is irrelevant; what matters is whether the higher individualities exist at all; and if we do not know for certain whether these higher individualities exist or not, then we reject the whole of Theosophy.

[ 26 ] But could there never have been anyone who said to himself: “Regardless of where this wisdom may have come from—I will examine it to see if and how it fits with the phenomena of life, whether it holds true in life; above all, I will examine how it relates to what the conventional worldview—based on positive science—offers us.”—One might then perhaps come to the conclusion: How meager is what the worldview based on positive science offers us compared to what has come from the theosophical side. One need not accept it on faith, but one can examine and understand it, and upon examination it will become clear whether those from whom this wisdom has come are greater than those who stand on the ground of so-called scientific facts. We have no reason to assume that H. P. Blavatsky received her worldview from thin air. Wisdom that has been found to be reasonable must come from somewhere. And whether it can be called great depends on what emerges when one compares this worldview with the one already recognized as great. —

[ 27 ] Such an examination would have been reasonable. But that is the only thing that truly does credit to the human mind—not accepting something on good faith, nor rejecting it on good faith, but examining it without prejudice. Certainly, not everyone is capable of research. Research is the domain of those who can develop their mental faculties in a special way. But anyone can examine things impartially—provided they do not seek the inexplicable instead of the explainable, and are not satisfied in their minds once they have found the inexplicable. As long as one tells them to make an effort to fathom the spirit, they refuse to go along with it. But if one tells them something that is completely incomprehensible, they’ll go along with it because it’s so much easier. This is particularly characteristic of the state of mind that exists among human beings.

[ 28 ] Here is another incident that took place. Again, I am not speaking as if there were any truth to it, but rather I am referring to the state of the human soul that was revealed in the process. It has been said that in certain regions of Asia there are people who can do the following: They spread out a cloth, take a rope, throw the rope into the air, and let a small child climb up it until the child disappears from view at the top; they then climb up after the child, and after some time, the child’s limbs fall down, dismembered. Then the fakir follows, takes a sack, puts the limbs inside, shakes the whole thing, then empties the sack—and the child is fully restored. I do not wish to determine what lies behind this, but only to speak about the nature of people’s superstitions. At first glance, the process appears to people as something that is hard to believe. A certain Mr. Ellmore wrote about it in the *Chicago Tribune*, and an artist drew some remarkable illustrations that quite accurately depicted the various stages: the rope being thrown up, the child climbing up, and so on. S. Ellmore himself also provided photographs of the event, which were particularly cleverly composed, for one could see only the fakir and the spectators, who were looking up at times and down at others. But the rest was not visible. $. Ellmore offered an explanation for the whole affair, making it easy to understand. He believed, in fact, that the person performing the feat must have been a highly skilled hypnotist, so attuned to suggestion that he could implant the relevant process into the minds of an entire audience. People then told themselves that the event was not superstition but suggestion, and it seemed plausible that everyone had been hypnotized. To one person, however, this suggestive event seemed even more improbable than the original event. She thought, in fact, that there might indeed be things in the world that cannot be explained by our laws, and she said to herself: “We already know quite a bit about suggestion, but when it comes to the powers of the soul, there is still much to be explored.” — So this person turned to S. Ellmore to find out where he had witnessed such a performance. Now the truth came to light. S. Ellmore explained that the entire story was fabricated, as his pseudonym already indicated: S. Ellmore = “sell more” (to deceive more). He had framed the story in this way because he could not believe the original event, but found the form of suggestion acceptable to the modern mind.

[ 29 ] So you see that it really comes down to one’s mental state—to what is going on within our own souls—if we want to gain some understanding of the concept and nature of superstition. Whether something is right or wrong must ultimately be determined by entirely different factors. But the only thing that can protect us all from any kind of misguided thinking that turns into superstition is the pursuit of true knowledge—of seeing through things to their core. Anyone who does not truly seek to penetrate to the depths of things will inevitably fall prey to superstition in some area. The fact is that this desire for a certain degree of superstition is quite prevalent. And with this, I am stating the fundamental law of superstition, as I hinted at earlier, namely: As long as a person remains confined to the observation of the physical environment, as long as they do not seek to advance toward spiritual science—toward a true understanding of the spiritual foundations of things—a certain need for superstition will live within them.

[ 30 ] Take, for my sake, a modern physician: No matter how strongly he rejects all forms of superstition in his thinking—anyone with an open mind can easily demonstrate how he amply satisfies his need for superstition in other forms. That is the law of compensation in the human soul. From this you can see how characteristic this law is.

[ 31 ] Here is a man who most certainly wants to transcend age-old superstition in every respect, but how much superstition does Haeckel document in his *Wonders of Life* and *Mysteries of the World*! Those who know me know that I acknowledge Haeckel in every respect, because he is the great researcher. Anyone who knows me also knows that I always point out the positive contributions Haeckel has made. But because he has cast aside the old superstitions and does not want to go back to the spiritual foundations of things, he applies them to another field. There he becomes the most superstitious person in that other field. In the realm of force and matter, as he conceives it, the atoms dance and whirl. He calls this his God. He attributes to the dancing and whirling of the atoms the ability to create states that constitute simple living beings, and that these, in turn, combine to form more complex structures, which ultimately come together to form the human brain. Everything that a human being can then feel and desire—all ideals and moral values, indeed all religions themselves—are, for anyone who can judge the matter impartially, merely the dance of atoms. For him, there is no difference between the dance of atoms and the great fetishes of the African savages. Whether the African savage worships his block of wood and regards it as a god, or whether Haeckel lets his tiny atoms dance and regards them as little gods—in terms of superstition, there is no difference between the two. Both forms of superstition stand on the same ground. There was a time—which, in a certain sense, is already behind us—when one could see how this superstition gradually emerged. Over time, new discoveries were made in the natural sciences, particularly in chemistry. New compounds became explainable by noting differences in the weights of the tiniest particles in space. Much was explained by the law of atomic weights. It thus seemed a fruitful approach to construct such an atomic theory. Later, people forgot that this atomic theory had been constructed in the mind. The atoms became real idols that were worshipped.

[ 32 ] Even as a schoolboy, a school principal opened my eyes to the superstition surrounding the atom. Back then—a long time ago—when the new atomic theories were emerging, a school principal calculated all phenomena in physics and chemistry as movements. He had not, however, yet calculated thought itself. But he did carry out calculations extending even into chemical phenomena. The little book that contained these ideas is titled: “The General Motion of Matter as the Fundamental Cause of All Natural Phenomena.” That was something that could fascinate anyone who delves into the subject. I would love to put this very little book into everyone’s hands. But it has not been available in bookstores for a long time. It might still be found in libraries. There we see the superstition in the omnipotence of the atomic vortex emerging.

[ 33 ] We have now seen, one by one, all the possible forms of superstition that arise in the natural sciences. Just consider that we actually have a certain trend in the natural sciences that speaks of the omnipotence of natural selection. Everywhere you look, you can see that everything supporting one theory or another is gathered together once the researcher in question becomes fascinated by a buzzword that acts like an idol upon him. We see similar cases right now in our own time, if only we were willing to keep an eye out for them. Already at the beginning of this lecture, I mentioned how things are creeping up on us that will, in the not-too-distant future, reveal themselves as a terrible superstition of our time.

[ 34 ] Where, then, does the root of superstition itself lie? There is always the possibility that superstition will take the place of what alone can prevail as a fruitful thought or a fruitful opinion. When the original thought, the original opinion, is forgotten and only the superficial appearance that presents itself is taken instead, then we forget what is essential—just as in the crisis that occurs seven days after the onset of pneumonia. If the number seven is singled out and clung to, there is a possibility that this will turn into superstition. Therein lies the reason why the sages of old were able to point to great natural phenomena.

[ 35 ] This is what spiritual science will bring to humanity: that people will not seek the inexplicable, but will instead seek to find an explanation. Otherwise, if they remain confined to the realm of their immediate surroundings and refuse to rise to a higher vantage point from which they can discern what is justified or unjustified in one realm or another, they will find themselves merely caught up in a cycle of superstition. Those who remain in the physical world abandon one form of superstition only to fall into another. Only when he rises above himself and above superstition does he see what is right in both. Jean-Jacques Rousseau had already observed that it makes no difference whether one is more or less intelligent. He said: The clever and the intelligent have their prejudices just as much as the foolish, even if the clever and the intelligent know more and have more prejudices than the foolish. The foolish, on the other hand, cling all the more tenaciously to what little they have. — This is certainly a law that anyone who observes human life can find confirmed in numerous cases. Thus, we see that, fundamentally, there can be no cure for superstition other than by rising to a higher vantage point, from which the world becomes comprehensible in its spiritual foundations.

[ 36 ] All sorts of superstitions will continue to arise, and many are already creeping into our worldview today. We are, after all, on a path of development where people actually have no real sense of how to eliminate superstition from public life—unless it has been passed down from ancient times. Oh, what an old story tells us certainly applies to our time in many areas. Call it an anecdote, but it holds true, and it illustrates the truth better than many other things. In a certain region of Spain, on the border between two provinces, an epidemic once broke out. It was near two universities. One university had a medical school where there was a particular enthusiasm for bloodletting. At the other university, there was a strong opposition to bloodletting. And now, in the unfortunate region where the epidemic broke out, there were two doctors. One had been trained at one university, the other at the other. One prescribed medication, and the other performed bloodletting. It turned out that one doctor kept all his patients alive, while the patients of the other doctor all died. Even though all the patients of one doctor survived and all those of the other died, both were acting correctly according to their respective theories; one was wrong in practice, but correct in theory.

[ 37 ] When you tell a story like this, it may seem silly. But when one sees these things day after day, one finds that the anecdote says nothing false, and one even finds it necessary. Therefore, when speaking of superstition, the point can only be that spiritual science truly has the least reason of all to propagate this or that superstition. It is based on the principle that the spiritual realm is open to investigation and that there are ways and means to penetrate the spiritual world, through which one can view the world from a higher perspective. In this way, human beings are led beyond what superstition is, and also beyond the harm that superstition can cause in human life. What applies here can be expressed in the words of Goethe, which reveal the truth in a comprehensive, if simple, way: “Wisdom is eternal, and it will triumph, and it will elevate humanity within all of us, even amid the most diverse turmoil.”