The Rudolf Steiner Archive

1. The Mission of Spiritual Science: Then and Now

[ 1 ] As has been the case for several years now, I will once again be giving a series of lectures this year on the subject of spiritual science. For those members of the distinguished audience who have attended these lectures in previous years, there is, of course, no doubt as to the meaning of the term “spiritual science” as used here. It should be noted—for those members of the distinguished audience who were not present in previous years—that the aim here is not to expound on some abstract science, similar to what we find in conventional theories of the soul or psychology; nor will it be about something that adopts the standpoint which today uses the term “spiritual science” merely to describe various fields of cultural history, but rather about a science for which the spirit is something real, something concrete. It will be a science that must proceed from the standpoint that human beings have access not only to the realm of sensory reality and to everything that the human intellect and other cognitive faculties—insofar as they are bound to sensory perception—can experience, that is, sensory and intellectual knowledge; but rather it will concern something that adopts a perspective in which not only is such knowledge present, but in which there is also the possibility for human beings to go beyond the realm of sensory phenomena and make observations that are not accessible to the intellect or to the realm to which the intellect is bound.

[ 2 ] Today, in this introductory presentation, the aim is to show what role this spiritual science plays in the life of modern people. And this will be illustrated by comparing how this spiritual science—which is as ancient as human striving itself—manifested itself in times past, and how it must manifest itself in our time. When we speak of “our time,” we do not, of course, mean merely the most immediate present; rather, we mean that which, for a relatively long time, has proven to be connected to our spiritual life, and which is now in full development in our immediate present.

[ 3 ] For anyone who has even a slight grasp of humanity’s spiritual life, it is clear from the outset that one should use the term “transitional period” with caution. If one considers the concept even to a limited extent, one will essentially be able to characterize every era as a transitional period. Nevertheless, there are periods in human history when, so to speak, leaps occur in the progression of spiritual life. People of the 16th through 19th centuries and of our own time will have to relate to the world differently—in terms of their entire soul and spiritual life—than humanity did in earlier times. And the further back we go in human development, the more we will notice that humanity always has different longings, always different needs, and that it wants to answer for itself—in ever-changing ways—the questions it raises about the great mysteries of existence. Now we can gain a clear understanding of the nature of such transitions by familiarizing ourselves with people from these transitional periods—people who, in a certain sense, still possess within themselves emotional and cognitive powers and impulses of will inherited from earlier epochs of spiritual life, yet who already feel within themselves the urge to step into a new era. We can find such historical figures in the most diverse epochs of human development. Let us focus today, for the time being, on one interesting figure to see how he raises the questions concerning the nature of the human being and all that must first and foremost interest human beings. Let us turn to a figure who, at the dawn of modern spiritual life, possessed the inner state of mind described above. And I do not wish to choose one of the better-known figures from the ranks of thinkers; rather, as the starting point for these lectures, I would like to select a thinker from the 17th century who is unknown to the widest circles—a time when there were numerous such figures who still retained within themselves the emotional and intellectual habits of the Middle Ages, who still sought to understand things as they had been understood centuries ago, yet who were already reaching into the cognitive needs of the modern era. So I would like to mention a figure whose external life, as it were, is virtually unknown to external history. This is always something exceptionally pleasing from the perspective of the humanities; for anyone who likes to linger in the humanities with an unbiased gaze will have already sensed how much one can be disturbed by everything that is attached to a figure from ordinary, everyday life—everything that today’s biographers gather from that ordinary life. In this sense, one could be grateful to history for having preserved so little for us—for example, regarding Shakespeare; for this means that—as is the case today with Goethe, for instance—our image of Shakespeare is not marred by all sorts of minor traits that biographers are so fond of compiling. But I would like to mention a figure for our purposes who is even less well-known than Shakespeare—a thinker from the 17th century who, however, holds immense significance for anyone capable of delving into the history of human thought. Indeed, one of the most outstanding figures in the history of human thought stands before us in the person of Franziskus Josephus Philppus, Count of Hoditz and Wolframitz, who lived a solitary life as a thinker in Bohemia during the second half of the 17th century. The question that lay closest to his heart—and which, if we delve into his soul, can so beautifully and tellingly guide us into what could move a soul in those days— he has set down in a small booklet—I have not investigated whether it has since been printed in its entirety—which he titled *Libellus de hominis convenientia*. In it, this solitary thinker raises the great question of existence, which for human beings is at the very center of all life circumstances: the question of the “nature of man.” And he says, with a sense of urgency stemming from a deep sense of insight, that nothing distorts a person more than not knowing what his true nature actually is.

[ 4 ] Now this Franziskus Josephus Philippus, Count of Hoditz and Wolframitz, turns to prominent thinkers of antiquity—to a thinker from the fourth century B.C., Aristotle—and asks: What can this ancient thinker tell us when the question is raised: What is the true nature of human beings? — Our thinker then recalls Aristotle’s answer: “Man is a rational animal.” And then our thinker turns to a more recent thinker, Descartes, and asks: What did this thinker have to say about the question: What is the true nature of human beings? — And the answer that came to him was: “Man is a thinking being.” — Now our thinker stood there with his inquiring, searching soul and had to say to himself: On the important question of the nature of man, these two thinkers—who represent many thinkers to me—give me no answer! For if an answer is given to the question of the nature of man, I demand to know what man is and what man ought to do. What Aristotle answers—that man is a rational animal—does not answer the question of what man is; for one cannot discern from his answer what the nature of rationality actually is. Nor does the answer given by Descartes, the 17th-century philosopher, answer the question: “What should a human being do in accordance with his nature?” For even if one already knows that a human being is a being capable of thought, one still does not know what he is actually supposed to think in order to engage with life in the right way, to truly establish a connection between his thinking and life!

[ 5 ] Thus, our thinker searched in vain for an answer to the question of existence that was so pressing to him—a question that, if a person is unable to answer it, distorts his very being.

[ 6 ] There he came across something that will certainly strike modern readers as strange—especially if they try to think in terms of today’s scientific education—but which, for that solitary individual, given his state of mind at the time, was truly the only fitting answer. He said to himself: It does me no good to know that man is a rational animal, or that man is a thinking being! But what I have found in the writings of another thinker—who in turn derived it from an older tradition—answers my question. And with words he had arrived at in this way, this man answered his own question: “Man is, by his very nature, the image of the Divine!”

[ 7 ] Today we would say: “By nature, a human being is what he is, in terms of his entire origin, from the spiritual world.”

[ 8 ] What the Count of Hoditz and Wolframitz goes on to say in his reflection need not concern us today. We need only be interested in the fact that, out of the needs of his soul, he had to point to an answer that went beyond everything a human being can see in his surroundings and comprehend with his intellect. But if we now examine more closely what that little book contains, it turns out that this individual did not have access to any messages from the spiritual world. Let us put it this way: If this individual had asked themselves how the Earth relates to the Sun, they would have found the answer—even if they had not been a natural scientist themselves—somewhere within the observable world, an answer that, since the emergence of modern natural science, could be derived from experience. So, with regard to external questions of the sensory world, this individual could have turned to what people who had explored these questions themselves through their own observations and experiences might have told him. But with regard to questions of human spiritual life—with regard to what a human being is insofar as he is a spirit—no such experiences of his time provided him with an answer. It is quite clear that he could not, so to speak, find any way to people who had had their own experiences in the spiritual world, who could have told him—through direct experience—about certain characteristics of the spiritual world, just as the natural scientists could tell him what they knew at that time about this or that question concerning the external sensory world. Therefore, this thinker turned to what was handed down to him—what he found in the texts that had been passed down to him through religious tradition. He did, however—and this is characteristic of the depth of his soul—process what he had at his disposal as tradition; but one can see from the way he worked that he could only exert his intellect to give a new form to what had developed in the course of history or what had come down to him through tradition or scripture.

[ 9 ] Now, some might say: Yes, do such individuals even exist? Can there really be people who, based solely on observation, experience, and direct perception, are able to provide answers to questions concerning the mysteries of spiritual life?

[ 10 ] This is precisely what spiritual science will once again bring to people’s awareness in modern times: that it is possible to conduct research in a spiritual world—one that is inaccessible to the external sensory eye, to telescopes, and to microscopes—just as it is possible to conduct research in the sensory world; and that answers can be provided, based on direct experience, to questions regarding the nature of such a world that lies beyond sensory experience. Then people will recognize how—albeit necessarily brought about by the entire course of human development—there was an epoch in which what the spiritual researcher had explored in the spiritual world was brought to public attention by other means; and that there is now, once again, an epoch in which it is possible to speak of the results of spiritual research and to find understanding for them once more. In between, however, lies the period into whose twilight the time of our solitary thinker fell, when the whole of human development “rested” for a while from ascending into the spiritual world, relying primarily on traditions conveyed through ancient documents or oral tradition, and where, in certain circles, people began to harbor doubts as to whether human beings could at all ascend into a supersensible world through their own power, through the development of their latent, slumbering powers of cognition. Is there, then, any reasonable argument from which one can conclude that it is nonsensical to speak of such a spiritual world—a world that lies beyond the sensory realm? Such a consideration should already be suggested to people by their observation of the development of their sensory sciences themselves. And precisely the unbiased observation of the development of this progress that humanity has made—the marvelous progress in unraveling the outer, sensory mysteries of nature—should point people to the fact that there must be a higher, supersensible knowledge. — How so?

[ 11 ] Anyone who objectively considers human development will have to admit: It is precisely the science that deals with the external sensory world that has developed over time. With what pride many people point this out—and with entirely justified pride, in a certain sense —how, centuries ago, we knew nothing about this or that aspect of the external sensory realm, and how the great advances in the natural sciences—which have been accelerating more and more since the 15th and 16th centuries—have revealed to us what we previously did not know about this external sensory world. Shouldn’t we actually say to ourselves: The sun, which rises in the morning and moves across the horizon during the day, rose for people millennia ago just as it rises for them today. What people could observe in the vicinity of the Earth and in connection with the Sun’s orbit in ancient times presented itself to their external sensory perception millennia ago just as it did during the time when Galileo, Newton, Kepler, Copernicus, and others were active. But what could humanity say about the external sensory world? Can we say that science, as we know it—of which our age is so justifiably proud—was achieved merely through observation of the external sensory world? If the external sensory world, as it is, were capable of yielding this science, then there would be no need to go beyond what this external sensory world provides. Then, centuries ago, we would have had to know the same things about this sensory world as we do today. That we know more today, that we view the position of the sun and so on differently today—what is the basis for that? It is because the human intellect—the human powers of cognition that relate to the external sensory world—have developed; because they have become something different over the course of millennia and centuries. Oh, these human powers of cognition were not in ancient Greece what they have become since the 16th century up to the present day.

[ 12 ] Anyone who looks at the course of human development with an open mind must conclude: Human beings have developed something they did not have before; and they have learned to view the external world in a different way than before, because they have developed something else alongside the cognitive faculties that relate to the external sensory world. That is why it became clear to him that the sun does not move around the Earth; rather, the development of his cognitive powers led him to conceive of the Earth as moving around the sun. Human beings today, therefore, possess different cognitive powers than they did in earlier times.

[ 13 ] For anyone who takes pride in the achievements of external science and who studies progress with an open mind, there can be no doubt whatsoever that human beings are capable of inner development, that they possess within themselves not only the forces we observe in the external world; and that, from one stage of development to the next, his powers have been transformed until humanity has become what it is today. Humanity does not merely have to develop what lies in its external powers; rather, something also develops within him that enables him to allow the world to rise anew in the radiance of his inner faculties as knowledge. Among the most beautiful words spoken by the great poet and thinker Goethe—in his book on Winckelmann—were these: “When the healthy nature of the human being functions as a whole, when he feels himself in the world as part of a great, beautiful, dignified, and valuable whole, when harmonious contentment grants him pure, free delight—then the universe, if it could perceive itself, would exult at having reached its goal and admire the pinnacle of its own becoming and being.” And: “Since man is placed at the summit of nature, he sees himself once again as a whole of nature, which in turn must bring forth another summit within itself. To this end, he elevates himself by imbuing himself with all perfections and virtues, invoking choice, order, harmony, and meaning, and finally rising to the creation of a work of art.”

[ 14 ] Thus, a person may feel as though they have been born out of the forces they can see with their eyes and comprehend with their intellect. But if they consider this impartially, in the sense we have explained, they will have to admit—precisely from the standpoint of external science—that: Not only does external nature possess forces that develop until they are seen by the human eye, heard by the human ear, and grasped by the human mind; but when we trace the course of human development, we find that something also develops within the human being; that his cognitive powers were initially dormant with regard to the observation of external nature, that these dormant powers were then awakened right up to our own time, so that the cognitive powers that lay dormant in antiquity now appear to be developed. And through these developed cognitive powers, human beings today look out into the world and achieve what we call the great advances of external, sensory science.

[ 15 ] Now the question must be posed to a human being: Must it really be the case that what lies within a person remains static and develops only those powers that reflect what can be seen from the outside? Or must there not also be other powers and abilities slumbering in the human soul that can be developed? Is it not a perfectly reasonable thought to say to oneself: One must raise the question of whether it might not be possible that human beings have other hidden powers within their souls that can be awakened? Is it not possible that human beings can develop what they possess within themselves not merely to the point of making it a reflection of the external world? Could it not be that, as they continue to develop, what was previously hidden and dormant within them might spiritually awaken—as what Goethe calls the “spiritual eye” and the “spiritual ear”—thereby opening up to them a spiritual world that lies beyond the sensory world?

[ 16 ] To anyone who considers this idea with an open mind, it will not seem absurd to develop hidden powers that can lead one into the supersensible world and provide an answer to the question: What, in fact, is a human being? If human beings are a reflection of the spiritual world, what, then, is the spiritual world?

[ 17 ] When we characterize human beings as external beings—when we bring to mind their gestures, their instincts, and so on—then, when we look at the external world, we will see human gestures, instincts, and powers in an imperfect state in lower beings. And we will come to understand the outer appearance of human beings as the synthesis of what we find distributed among various beings—lower beings—out there: instincts and so on. We can understand this because we see what we observe in human beings as something out there from which we conceive of human beings as having evolved. Should it not then be possible, with such developed powers, to look in a similar way into a spiritual outer world as well? To see beings, forces, and things there, just as we see stones, plants, and animals in the physical external world? Should it not be possible to perceive such spiritual processes that shed just as much light on everything that lives invisibly within the human being as it is possible to explain the physical aspects of the human being?

[ 18 ] But it was, so to speak, a transitional period between an old and a new way of communicating spiritual science. It was a time that served as a respite for the vast majority of humanity. Nothing new was discovered; rather, what was contained in ancient documents and traditions was taken up again and again. This was entirely appropriate for that epoch, for every epoch requires what is characteristic of its very own needs. We are now in such an interim period, and we must be clear that people during this interim were in a different situation than before and after; that during this interim they, in a certain sense, grew out of the habit of even looking at the hidden powers within the human soul that, through their development, can lead to the perception of the spiritual world. Consequently, a time approached when human beings had, so to speak, lost both the faith and the understanding that such an inner development of hidden powers toward supersensory knowledge exists. Admittedly, one thing could never be denied: that there is something within human beings themselves that cannot be perceived by the senses. For what unbiased thinking would dare to say, for example, that the human intellect itself is something that a person has already seen with the physical eye? What unbiased thinking would not at least have to admit that the human powers of cognition themselves are of a supersensible nature?

[ 19 ] This insight, so to speak, has never _disappeared; not even during the period when people had, in a sense, grown out of the belief that the supersensible powers of the soul could develop to the point of supersensible perception. The thinker who has, so to speak, reduced the act of looking up into the supersensible world to a bare minimum—the one who says: There is no possibility for human beings to penetrate, through any kind of supersensible perception, into a world that confronts us as a spiritual one, just as animals, plants, and minerals, and the outer physical human being in the sensory world—this thinker, who, however, out of his unbiased thinking had to acknowledge entirely that there is a supersensible realm that can never be denied—this thinker, who thereby stands, as it were, at the final point of a premature development, is Kant. Kant is the thinker who, in a certain sense, has thereby brought an ancient course of human development to its final conclusion. For what does Kant think about the relationship of human beings to a supersensible spiritual world? He does not deny that human beings perceive the supersensible when they look within themselves; that to do so they must employ powers of cognition that cannot be perceived with the sensory eyes, no matter how sophisticatedly the sensory instruments are enhanced. Thus, Kant points to a realm of the supersensible world: namely, the human faculties of cognition themselves—what the soul requires if it is to form a reflection of the external world. But he has now come to say that this is also the only thing humans can know about a supersensible world; humans can perceive only that part of the supersensible world which consists of the means by which they form a representation of the sensible world. Kant’s view is this: No matter where humans direct their perception, they see only one thing that they can designate as supersensible—namely, that which their own senses contain of the supersensible in order to perceive, grasp, and understand a sensible fact.

[ 20 ] Thus, according to Kant’s view of the world, there is no path that brings the spiritual world into intuition or experience; rather, there is only the possibility of realizing that the external sensory world cannot be known through sensory means, but only through supersensory means. That is the only experience a person can have of the supersensible world; otherwise, there is no access to the spiritual world, no intuition, no experience! This is the world-historical aspect that is at the heart of Kant’s philosophy. Yet, in Kant’s view, it cannot be denied that when human beings reflect on what is connected with their actions, their work, and their deeds, they also find ways to influence the sensory world. Kant, too, had to acknowledge: Human beings do not, like lower beings, merely follow instinctive impulses when they undertake this or that; rather, they also follow impulses that exist solely within their soul, impulses that can elevate them far above what is merely an external impulse. How, indeed, could an unbiased mind deny that such impulses lead to external action? One need only turn one’s gaze to a person who, though presented with this or that alluring impulse from the world to do this or that, does not follow these temptations and enticements; but rather takes as a guiding principle for his actions that which he cannot receive from external stimuli. Need we not simply point to the great martyrs of life, who shed their blood, who gave up everything that existed for them in the sensory world for something that was to lead them beyond the sensory world? One need only point to the experience within the human soul—also in Kant’s sense—to the human conscience, which, in the face of whatever may approach a person, no matter how alluring and tempting, can say to them: Do not follow what entices and lures you; follow what speaks from spiritual depths like an indomitable voice within your soul! And so Kant was certain that there is such a voice within human beings that speaks of something incomparable to what is expressed by the external sensory world. Kant summarizes this in the meaningful words he calls the “categorical imperative.” However, he goes on to say that human beings cannot go further than this means within their inner world—acting in the sensory world from a supersensory source—for human beings cannot step outside the sensory world. They feel that duty, the categorical imperative, and conscience speak from within them; but they cannot penetrate the world from which conscience, duty, and the categorical imperative flow. Kantian thought, so to speak, permits human beings to go only as far as the boundary of the supersensible world. Everything else that lies within these realms themselves—from which conscience, duty, and the categorical imperative speak, and which is supersensibly akin to the nature of our soul—all of that eludes observation in Kant’s sense. Human beings cannot enter there; they can only draw conclusions. They can say to themselves: Duty speaks; but I am a weak human being; in the ordinary world, I cannot carry out, to the full extent, what conscience and duty command me to do. Therefore, I must assume that my existence is not limited to this sensible world, but that it has a meaning beyond the sensible world. I can hold this as a belief, but I cannot possibly penetrate this world; I cannot enter at all into this world from which moral consciousness, the categorical imperative, conscience, duty, and so on speak!

[ 21 ] Now, in this regard, another figure stands in direct opposition to what Kant expressed from the perspectives just mentioned. And this figure is none other than, once again, the poet-thinker Goethe. Anyone who can truly compare the souls of these two men knows how diametrically opposed they are, particularly with regard to the most important questions of knowledge. When Goethe had taken in what Kant had just remarked on this very subject, he said, speaking from his inner spiritual experience: Kant asserts that while one can draw conclusions about a path into the spiritual world, one cannot have direct experiences there. Kant asserts that there is only an intellectual, conceptual faculty of judgment, but no intuitive faculty of judgment that has direct experiences in the spiritual world. Kant asserts this. But anyone who, like me, says Goethe—committing his entire personality to the task—has tirelessly struggled to work his way up through the sensory world into a supersensory world, knows that one can not only draw conclusions but can truly rise into this spiritual world through an intuitive faculty of judgment! — That was Goethe’s personal objection to Kant. And Goethe further emphasizes that it would be an adventure of reason for anyone to claim that such an intuitive power of judgment exists; but he says that, based on his own experience, he has courageously endured this adventure of reason!

[ 22 ] The inner principle, the inner nerve of what is called true spiritual science, is nothing other than the recognition of what Goethe calls “contemplative judgment”—which he knows leads into a spiritual world, can be developed, can be elevated higher and higher, and can then lead to direct perception, to an experience in the spiritual world. What such heightened insight can bring to those who seek it is the very essence of true spiritual science. This is what we will explore in the coming lectures: the findings of such a science, which draws its sources from the developed, hidden capacities of the human soul, through which a person looks into a spiritual world, just as the external sense organs allow them to look into the world of chemistry, physics, and so on.

[ 23 ] But this raises the question: Is it only possible today to develop these latent cognitive abilities that lie dormant within the soul, or has this possibility always existed?

[ 24 ] A view that, in the spiritual-scientific sense, surveys what has taken place in human history teaches us that there have been ancient treasures of wisdom, some of which were condensed into what remained in the writings and traditions of humanity during the middle period described above. Furthermore, this spiritual science teaches us that it is possible today not only to proclaim the ancient wisdom to humanity, but also to speak of what the human soul is capable of achieving today through the development of the abilities and powers slumbering within it, so that sound judgment—even if a person is not able to look into the supersensible world themselves—can understand the messages of spiritual researchers. What Goethe initially had in mind when he made that remark against Kant—namely, “contemplative judgment”—is, in a certain sense, the beginning of the path of knowledge leading upward, a path that is by no means unknown today. Spiritual science, as we shall see, is able to point out that there are hidden powers of knowledge which ascend in various stages and thereby penetrate ever more deeply into the spiritual world.

[ 25 ] When we speak of knowledge, we are referring first to knowledge of the ordinary world, “objective knowledge”; we then speak of “imaginative knowledge”—though the term “imaginative” is used here as a “technical term,” just like the others—; we speak of “inspired” knowledge and, finally, of true “intuitive” knowledge. These are stages of development that the soul undergoes on its ascent into the supersensible world. But these are also stages of development that the true spiritual researcher undergoes in accordance with the current state of the soul. The ancient spiritual researchers also underwent similar paths. But spiritual research as such has no meaning if it is to be the preserve of only a select few. Spiritual research is, after all, not something that can be directed solely at small circles. Certainly, regarding what the scientific researcher has to say about the nature of plants, or about certain processes in the animal world, one might say: “This science can serve humanity, even if it is the preserve of small circles—botanists, zoologists, and so on.” — This is not the case with spiritual research. Spiritual research deals with matters that are vital to every human soul; it deals with questions connected to humanity’s justified innermost joys and sorrows of the soul; with matters whose knowledge enables a person to bear their fate—to bear it in such a way that they experience it with inner satisfaction and inner bliss, even when it is painful and distressing. Questions without whose answers a person would become desolate and empty within—these are the questions of spiritual science. The questions of spiritual science are not those that can be answered only for the narrowest circles, but rather those that must be of interest to every human soul, whatever stage of development and education it may be at, because their answers are the spiritual bread of life for every soul. But this has always been the case, throughout all ages. If spiritual science wishes to speak to humanity in this way, then it must find the means and ways to be understood; it must be comprehensible to those who wish to understand it; that is to say, it must address those faculties that are developed within the human soul at a particular era, so as to give an echo to the messages of the spiritual researcher. Since the human race changes from epoch to epoch and ever new soul dispositions arise, it is natural that spiritual science once had to judge the most pressing concerns of the soul differently than it does today. In ancient times, one had to speak to a humanity that would not have understood if one had spoken as one does today; for the soul forces that are developed today were not present in ancient times. If spiritual researchers had spoken as they must today, they would have been speaking to people as if they were speaking to plants. Therefore, in ancient times, spiritual researchers had to employ different methods than is the case today. And when we look back to ancient times, spiritual science itself teaches us: in order to be able to provide answers in the manner required by humanity of those ancient times according to their soul powers at that time, even those who prepared themselves to look into the spiritual world had to prepare themselves differently in the past; he had to develop different powers within his own soul than those a spiritual researcher must develop today in order to speak in the forms necessary for humanity today.

[ 26 ] Those who develop these powers lying dormant within the soul in order to be able to look into the spiritual world and see spiritual beings there, just as one sees stones, plants, and animals in the physical world, are called—and have always been called—“initiates” in spiritual science; and the process the soul must undergo to gain insight into the spiritual world is referred to as “initiation.” The path to this initiation, however, was different in ancient times; and it is different in our modern times, because the mission of spiritual science is always evolving. The ancient initiation that those who spoke to the people of antiquity had to undergo also led these people up to the direct experience of the spiritual world; they were able to look into realms surrounding human beings that are higher than what the senses around us can perceive. But these people looked into these realms in such a way that they transformed their perceptions, so that what they saw could then be understood by others through a symbol, an allegory. The ancient initiates could express what they beheld only symbolically. Such symbols encompassed the entire scope of what interests human beings about the world. And such symbols, arising from a genuine experience of the world, have been preserved for us in the myths and legends that exist from the most diverse eras and among the most diverse peoples. Such myths and legends are, for the armchair scholars—not for true research—merely something that sprang from the “popular imagination.” For those who know the facts, myths and legends are drawn from the insights of spiritual researchers, and in every true myth and legend we must see an outward image of something that the spiritual researcher has experienced in his spiritual vision; or, in Goethe’s words: what he has seen with his spiritual eyes and heard with his spiritual ears. Only then do legends and myths become comprehensible to us, when we regard them as symbols of a genuine insight into the spiritual world.

[ 27 ] These are, first and foremost, the symbols through which people spoke to the broadest segment of the population. For what people today imagine—that the human soul has always been as it is in this particular century—is not the case. The human soul has changed; its entire receptivity used to be different. The human soul was satisfied when it received this image, which was provided by myth; for through it, the soul was inspired to perceive what it saw externally in a much more immediate way. Today, myth is a fantasy. But in the past, when myth sank into the human soul, what stood before the human soul were the mysteries of human nature. And when the soul looked at the clouds, the sun, and so on, it did so in such a way that, when it had the myth, an understanding of what it saw before its eyes necessarily arose. For a smaller number, what one might call higher knowledge was then conveyed through symbols. Whereas today we speak plainly and must do so, what the soul of the ancient sage or initiate experienced could not be expressed through our soul powers; for neither the initiate nor his listener possessed them. These powers had yet to be developed. One could express oneself only by making use of allegories. These allegories have been preserved in a body of literature that seems highly peculiar to people today. Today, people will have the opportunity—especially if, in addition to a thirst for knowledge, their curiosity about such matters has been aroused—to come across here and there some old book—I was almost going to say: some old tome—containing wondrous images that symbolically express, for example, the relationship between the planets; or featuring various geometric figures, such as triangles, quadrilaterals, and so on. Anyone who approaches these images with the powers of understanding developed today will—unless they have specifically cultivated their soul in this direction to the point of finding pleasure in them—say, from the perspective of our modern education: What are we supposed to do with all this stuff? What can one do with what has been handed down to us as the so-called “Solomonic Key”—a symbolic figure—with these triangles, quadrilaterals, and so on?

[ 28 ] Certainly, even a researcher of the spiritual realm will tell you: from the standpoint of today’s education, modern people cannot make sense of this at first. But back then, when these images were passed down to the students, they truly stirred something within their souls. Today, the human soul is different. In an age when the human soul must develop in order to answer the questions of nature and life in the way we do today, the soul cannot feel the inner impulse to view such things as, for example, the two intertwined triangles—one with its tip pointing upward, the other with its tip pointing downward. When this image appeared before a person’s eyes in the past, something stirred and moved within their soul as they looked at it; the soul saw into something. Just as today the eye sees something through a microscope—such as plant cells—that it cannot see without the microscope, so these symbolic figures served as tools for the soul. When one held the so-called Solomonic Key as a mental image within the soul, one could see into the spiritual world in a way that is not possible with the soul alone. But the soul is no longer like that today. Therefore, what has been handed down in such ancient writings from the mysteries of the spiritual world can no longer be “science” to the same extent; and those who present it as science today—or who presented it as science as recently as the 19th century—are doing something that is no longer appropriate. This is also the reason why, from the standpoint of modern education, you will no longer be able to make sense of such writings as those by Eliphas Levy, for example. It is simply something antiquated for our time when such symbols are presented today that are meant to explain the spiritual world. But in earlier times, this was the way spiritual science spoke to the human soul—either through the powerful imagery of myths and legends, or through such symbols.

[ 29 ] Then came the time when the human soul had to be addressed in a different way. This was the transitional period during which knowledge of the spiritual world was passed down from ancestors to descendants through written or oral tradition. Even if we study only outward life, we can clearly demonstrate how this was passed down. For example, there was a certain sect in North Africa at the time of the emergence of Christianity; it is called the “Therapists.” A man who was initiated into their teachings says of this sect that they possessed ancient documents originating from their founders, who themselves were still able to look into the spiritual world—something their successors could only read about in the writings left to them; or, at most, something that could be perceived by those who, through their spiritual disposition, had developed to the point of entering the spiritual world. That applies to a bygone era. But if we look back to the Middle Ages, we find—as certain eminent thinkers emphasize—that we possess certain powers of cognition: we have human reason, and then other powers of cognition that reach upward to comprehend certain mysteries of existence. But there are secrets, mysteries of existence, that must be revealed; we cannot see them by developing our powers of cognition—we can only seek them in the scriptures!

[ 30 ] This is how the great dichotomy arose among the thinkers of the Middle Ages between what can be known through reason and what must be believed because it has been handed down or revealed. And—entirely in keeping with the spirit of the times—a sharp distinction was drawn between the two. Certainly, this was justified for that era; for the powers of the soul were no longer such that one could apply certain mathematical symbols allegorically and thereby evoke insights in the soul. That time had passed. Well into more recent times, there was only one way for the soul to grasp the supersensible: to turn its gaze inward—as, for example, Augustine did to some extent.

[ 31 ] Thus, human beings had lost the ability to see in the external world anything that revealed deeper inner mysteries to them. They could no longer see anything in the symbols other than figments of the imagination. There was only one thing left: to present the supersensible world to him in a way that corresponded to what was supersensible within himself; to tell him: You have a mind; this mind is limited in space and time; but in the spiritual world there is a being who is All-Mind. You have a limited love, but in the spiritual world there is a being who is All-Love! When the spiritual world was illustrated to a person through what he himself experienced inwardly, his inner being expanded to the contemplation of nature lived through divinely; then he had a consciousness of God. But regarding the details, he could only obtain information from the ancient scriptures; for he no longer had anything that could lead him into the spiritual world himself.

[ 32 ] Then came the more recent times, which have brought with them the very pride of the natural sciences. These are the times when abilities were awakened—not merely in those who were able to attain scientific knowledge, but in all human beings—that could initially develop an understanding beyond the sensory realm. This is when that part of the human soul developed which can understand that the sensory image is not the truth, but which, as a power of cognition, can perceive that the truth contradicts the appearance of the senses. What has developed in the soul in such a way that it can view external nature as it does not present itself in the sensory world—this will be increasingly understood by those who today, as spiritual researchers, penetrate into the spiritual world and who then recount that one sees there a spiritual expanse and spiritual beings just as one sees here the sensory world with animals, plants, and minerals.

[ 33 ] Thus must the spiritual researcher speak regarding those areas that are close to our present understanding. And we shall see how symbols, which were once means to an understanding of the spiritual world, have now become means for spiritual development. Whereas, for example, the “Solomonic Key” once evoked genuine spiritual insight in the soul, it no longer does so today. But when the soul allows itself to be influenced by what the spiritual researcher can make clear to it, then something begins to stir within the soul that can gradually develop upward into the spiritual world; and if it has visions in the spiritual world, it can speak to people today in such a way that it can express what it has seen using the same logic that is also the logic of external science. Therefore, today’s spiritual science—or esoteric science—must speak in such a way that anyone who applies their intellect comprehensively enough can understand it. What the spiritual researcher has to communicate today must be clothed in the conceptual forms that are also customary in other sciences today; for otherwise, he would not be taking into account the needs of our time. Not everyone can immediately look into the spiritual world in this way; but because the corresponding powers of intellect and feeling are developed in every soul, spiritual science—when presented correctly—is something that everyone today can grasp with their ordinary reason. The spiritual researcher is once again in a position today to present what our solitary thinker once said: “Human beings are, in their very nature, the image of the Divine.” If we wish to understand human beings physically, we look to what human beings can investigate physically. If we wish to understand what a human being is inwardly, spiritually, then we point to a world that the spiritual researcher can explore spiritually. There it becomes evident that a human being is not merely something that comes into existence at birth or conception and departs again at death; rather, it becomes evident that, in addition to their physical part, human beings possess supersensible members. If one recognizes the nature of these supersensible members, one enters the realm where there is not merely faith, but knowledge. And when Kant said, in the twilight of an old era: “We can recognize the categorical imperative; but no human being can penetrate, through direct perception, into the realm of freedom, divine existence, and immortality”—he was merely expressing the experience of his own time. A spiritual science will show that it is possible to penetrate into a spiritual world. It will show: Just as the eye armed with a microscope can penetrate into a world that is inaccessible to the unaided eye, so too can the soul equipped with the tools of spiritual science penetrate into a spiritual world closed to the unaided soul—a world in which love, conscience, freedom, and immortality can be recognized, just as animals, plants, and minerals can be recognized in the outer physical world. — This can be shared as a preview of what will be elaborated upon in the upcoming lectures.

[ 34 ] If we now consider the relationship between the spiritual researcher and his audience, and in doing so turn our attention once more to spiritual science in ancient times and in more recent times, we can say: The symbols that the spiritual researcher of ancient times had at his disposal had a direct effect on the human soul. What we today call the powers of intellect and reason did not yet exist. The images had a direct effect, and through them one could glimpse into a spiritual world, so that the spiritual researcher of ancient times did not stand before people in such a way that they could have examined, through their reason, what he conveyed to them through these symbols. One might say: these symbols acted suggestively, like an inspiration; people were captivated by them, compelled by them; they could do nothing against it. Therefore, anyone to whom such an image was given—if it was incorrect—was, in those ancient times, virtually at the mercy of those who presented it to them as false; for it had a direct effect! That is why it was extraordinarily significant in ancient times that those who ascended into the spiritual world were able to inspire firm faith and the most absolute trust that they were reliable; and if they abused the powers they possessed, then a force lay in their hands that they could exploit in the worst possible way. That is why, in spiritual science, alongside periods of splendor there have also been times of decline—times when the strength and power of initiates who were not trustworthy were abused. Thus, in ancient times, it depended to a great extent solely on the initiate and how he conducted himself toward his audience. This has now—one might say, thank God!—changed somewhat in the present. Not everything changes all at once. Therefore, it is still necessary today for the initiate to be a trustworthy person; and if he is, then it is justified to place genuine trust in him. But in a certain respect, people today do already have a different relationship with the spiritual researcher than they did in the past. For today, if the spiritual researcher is to speak in a way that resonates with the spirit of the times, he must express himself so that any open-minded person who wishes to understand can indeed do so. This is, of course, still a long way from meaning that everyone who is capable of understanding must now do so. But reason can today serve as the judge of what can be understood, and therefore the person who devotes himself to spiritual science should apply his seemingly unbiased reason in all things.

[ 35 ] This will be the mission of today’s spiritual science: to ascend into a spiritual world through the development of hidden powers, just as modern physiology descends through the microscope into a world of the tiniest living beings that the naked eye cannot see. And common sense will be able to examine the findings of spiritual research just as it can examine the findings of physiologists, botanists, and so on. For sound reason will be able to say to itself: It all adds up! People today will come to say: My reason tells me that this can be the case; what the spiritual researcher has to say can make sense if one makes use of one’s reason. And this is how the spiritual researcher should speak if he truly feels himself to be fulfilling the mission of spiritual science in the present. But there will also be a transitional period today. For since the means for spiritual development are available here and there, and people may also use them incorrectly, some individuals might elevate themselves into a spiritual world if their intentions are not pure, if their sense of duty is not sacred, and if their conscience is not infallible. But then, by forcing their way into a supersensible world, instead of becoming spiritual researchers, they may become individuals who cannot know through their own experience whether things correspond to reality; then such so-called spiritual researchers will also communicate corresponding things. And since people on the other side can only slowly and gradually ascend, through the use of their powers of reason, to an understanding of what the spiritual researchers say, it is precisely in this field that charlatanism, humbug, and superstition will be able to flourish. But humanity is already in a different situation today. In a certain sense, those who, out of a certain curiosity and without wishing to exercise their reason, rush to follow those who present themselves as spiritual researchers on the basis of blind faith have only themselves to blame. Precisely because people are still too complacent to exercise their own reason, and prefer to surrender to blind faith rather than think for themselves, it is possible in our time that—as a result of our development—the modern charlatan will easily take the place of the old initiate who abused his power; a charlatan who, consciously or unconsciously, peddles to people not the truth, but something he himself perhaps holds to be true. This may still be the case because we are currently at the beginning of a new phase of development.

[ 36 ] But there is nothing against which a person should apply their sound reason more than against what is presented to them by spiritual science. One can look for part of the blame within oneself if one falls for charlatanism and humbug; for they will continue to bear abundant fruit—and have already done so in our time. This is also something that must not be overlooked when discussing the mission of spiritual science in our time.

[ 37 ] But anyone in our time who listens to the spiritual researcher and examines everything not with an arbitrary reason that casts doubt on and rejects everything—but with sound reason—will already be able to sense how spiritual science can bring people comfort and hope in difficult times and enlightenment regarding the great mysteries of existence. People today will be able to gain a sense that the great mysteries of existence, the great questions of destiny, can be resolved through spiritual science; they will be able to know what is born and dies within them, and what constitutes the eternal core of the human being. In short: it will be possible for people today—and the upcoming lectures will provide some, albeit few, examples of this—if they have the good will and wish to develop the strength by absorbing and internalizing the teachings of spiritual science, to say from their innermost feeling:

[ 38 ] It is true what the young Goethe intuitively said, what the older Goethe sought to convey to us in every line he wrote in the prime of his life, what he has his Faust say—that the wise man speaks:

The spirit world is not closed off;
Your mind is closed, your heart is dead!
Arise! Bathe, disciple, undaunted
Your earthly breast in the morning glow!

[ 39 ] In the dawn of the spirit!