The Rudolf Steiner Archive

9. Some Thoughts on the Moon from a Spiritual Scientific Perspective

[ 1 ] With my lecture today as part of this year’s winter series, however, I find myself in a somewhat more difficult position than with all the other lectures. Today I intend to offer insights that deviate considerably from the perspective and mode of thinking currently regarded as “scientific”; and since people’s modes of thinking and perception are shaped by what is customary and accepted in scientific and popular-scientific discourse, it is fair to say: since the subject of today’s lecture is so far removed from that, there is likely little inclination among a wider audience at present to regard such suggestions as anything other than a daydream—arising more from the whims of thought and imagination than from what they actually are: the consequences of spiritual scientific research. Therefore, I ask you to regard today’s lecture within our winter series as a kind of interlude, intended to provide inspiration in a certain direction that has been less explored in the humanities this winter, but which may be addressed in greater depth next year. Yet this stimulus must be provided to show that what we are exploring here this winter as the science of the soul points in all directions, leading out from the immediate sphere of human soul life into the great interconnections of world existence, of the entire cosmos. And I also ask you to bear in mind that today I am briefly touching upon just one aspect of a vast field; therefore, today’s lecture must be viewed strictly in the context of its specific topic: “Some Thoughts on the Moon from a Spiritual Scientific Perspective!” What I have to say, however, cannot be an exhaustive treatment of the subject.

[ 2 ] Today, you will read all sorts of things about the Moon in a wide variety of popular books, each presenting a different perspective based on current scientific knowledge. But this knowledge, which you can acquire on your own through lectures or through popular or other scientific literature, will leave you quite unsatisfied with regard to the actual questions about this remarkable companion of our Earth, which we call the Moon. For, decade by decade throughout the 19th century, the findings of mainstream science regarding the Moon have, in a certain respect, rightly become increasingly cautious—but also increasingly sparse; and what else one might find in these reports about the Moon is of the least concern to us today. The fact that the telescope and astronomical photography provide us with a certain image of the lunar disk; that what can be discerned on the lunar disk is described as crater-like formations, all manner of rilles, lunar plains, lunar valleys, and the like; and that we form a certain conception of the purely spatial appearance of the Moon—none of that is what should concern us. But in the true sense of spiritual science, the question to be raised today is: Does the Moon have any special influence or special significance for life on Earth?

[ 3 ] Over the centuries, people have discussed the moon’s significance for life on Earth from various perspectives. And since—as is undeniable—everything that happens on Earth year in and year out must be related to the Earth’s position relative to the Sun and the various conditions regarding its motion around the Sun, people have always wondered whether, in addition to the powerful influences of sunlight, solar heat, and other effects of the Sun on our Earth, the other celestial light—the Moon—might also have some significance for life on Earth, and perhaps especially for human life. In the not-too-distant past, people were inclined to speak of a fairly strong influence of the Moon on life on Earth. Quite apart from the fact that it has long been customary to associate the phenomena on Earth known as the ebb and flow of the sea with the Moon’s gravitational pull, people have also always spoken of the Moon’s influence on Earth’s weather conditions. And even in the first half of the 19th century, quite serious scientific researchers and physicians compiled studies on how the moon, in its various phases, had certain effects on this or that human illness, or on the course of human life in general. In the first half of the 19th century, this was by no means merely a matter of what one might call folk beliefs or superstitions when, for example, people spoke of “the influence of the lunar phases on feverish symptoms, on asthmatic symptoms, on the ominous goiter, and the like”; but there were always doctors and scientific naturalists who recorded such cases because they believed they had to assume that the changing phases of the moon influenced the course of human life, as well as illness and health.

[ 4 ] With the advent of that scientific way of thinking—which clearly had its dawn and rise in the mid-19th century—the tendency to attribute any significance to the Moon in relation to life on Earth gradually diminished. The only belief that remained was that the moon was the cause of the tides. In contrast, people became less and less inclined to attribute to the moon, for example, any influence on weather phenomena or even on the other phenomena mentioned—those of human life or other forms of life on Earth. And in particular, it was a researcher of extraordinary significance and epoch-making importance in a specific field of scientific inquiry in the 19th century who once poured out the full force of his wrath upon those who still dared to speak of the moon’s influence, even if only on weather conditions or other phenomena on our Earth. This outstanding researcher was Schleiden, the discoverer of the significance of the plant cell. He, who had achieved such epoch-making work in this field, once spoke out very forcefully against another German natural scientist who had just attained a certain degree of prominence in the realm of exploring the innermost or frontier areas of research—against Gustav Theodor Fechner. It has been about half a century since that famous “Moon Controversy” was fought out between the eminent discoverer of the plant cell and Gustav Theodor Fechner, who, in his *Zend-Avesta*, attempted, for example, to develop the view that plant life is animated; who, in his *Introduction to Aesthetics* and his *Psychophysics*, made many contributions to the intimate understanding of the natural sciences. Perhaps one cannot speak of this famous “Moon Controversy” without also characterizing Gustav Theodor Fechner more precisely in a few words.

[ 5 ] Gustav Theodor Fechner was a researcher who, on the one hand, sought with tremendous diligence and with truly great prudence and precision to compile all the external facts of research; but then he applied a method that could be called the method of analogies to show how all phenomena—not only in human life but also in plant life, for example—are animated. He applied the method of analogy by taking the phenomena of human life as his starting point, demonstrating how human life unfolds, and then drawing on similar facts and phenomena that present themselves to our perception—such as the life of the Earth, the life of an entire solar system, or the life of the plant world. And as he then compared such phenomena to human life, one analogy after another presented itself to him, and he sought to gain from this a perspective that he formulated something like this: When we observe human life with its animacy, this phenomenon reveals itself to us; when we observe the other phenomena, we can discern certain similarities with human life. Why, then, should we not also recognize the other phenomena as “animated”?

[ 6 ] To those who stand on the ground of spiritual science and are accustomed to viewing everything related to spiritual life in a strictly scientific sense—just as the natural scientist is accustomed to viewing the external world of phenomena scientifically—much of what Gustav Theodor Fechner has expounded in a quite witty manner appears to be nothing more than a clever intellectual game; and although such a witty play on words can certainly be stimulating and help to free the mind, it is nevertheless necessary to be extremely cautious when relying solely on analogies. One might say: When someone with a stimulating mind like Gustav Theodor Fechner does such a thing, it is very interesting; but when, on the other hand, people today—who truly give reason to believe that they wish to solve the world’s mysteries with as little knowledge as possible and a great deal of ease—invoke Fechner and adopt some of his ideas as their own, it must be emphasized that the imitator, the parrot, by no means always evokes the same feeling and satisfaction in us as the one who, as the first in this field, provides a certain stimulus that we recognize as ingenious, but which we certainly cannot accept as anything else.

[ 7 ] There is really no need to characterize Schleiden in any other way than to say: He is the significant discoverer of the plant cell. It is therefore understandable from the outset that such a mind—which must direct all its powers of perception and cognition toward the real, toward that which can be perceived with external instruments—also has a tendency to remain confined to this externally real, and can feel little sympathy for analogies or for anything that was said to animate—in a way derived from analogies—that which, as Schleiden put it, is composed of individual plants, and which, to him as its first discoverer, must have seemed like a miracle. Thus, for Schleiden, everything that—proceeding from such a fanciful form—spoke of connections in nature that played out, so to speak, on a smaller scale became a veritable abomination. And it was precisely with regard to Gustav Theodor Fechner’s mode of thinking based on analogies that Schleiden then poured out the full measure of his wrath, touching upon the question of the moon in the process. He says—with reference not only to Fechner but to all those who were accustomed, in the old way as had been the case throughout the centuries, to attributing all sorts of influences on the weather and other conditions to the moon: The moon is like the cat in the household. When something happens in the household that one cannot quite explain, one says: “The cat did it!” It is the same when one finds something in nature—weather conditions or the like—that cannot be traced back to the facts of the sun’s orbit and so on; then one says: “Well, it is the moon that is interfering here, and that which cannot be explained by other causes is now being brought about by the moon itself!” — Thus, for Schleiden, the moon became the “cat” of natural science, because whenever natural science cannot yet provide an explanation, it says: “The moon did it.” And he reproached those who were, so to speak, “moon believers” in this implied sense.

[ 8 ] Gustav Theodor Fechner naturally felt targeted; after all, the barb was directed primarily at him. And he now undertook a work that—regardless of whether one views it favorably or critically—is extraordinarily stimulating; for although many of the details are now largely outdated, this treatise written by Fechner in 1856, “Schleiden and the Moon,” is exceptionally interesting. Fechner did not need to go into the phenomena of ebb and flow in any great detail, since Schleiden himself accepted them. On the other hand, for Schleiden, the moon was, as it were, the “cat” of natural science when it came to all weather conditions. — Fechner then set out to examine in great detail the very same factual evidence that Schleiden had cited against the “cat”—that is, against lunar research—and he drew a very remarkable conclusion from that same evidence. Anyone who examines the arguments presented in this book will see that Gustav Theodor Fechner was an extraordinarily cautious man in this field, who proceeded entirely—albeit in a more specialized area—in a scientific manner. From a vast number of facts—which we need not list individually, as anyone can look them up—Gustav Theodor Fechner first established that, according to many observations, both the amount and frequency of rainfall were greater during the waxing moon than during the waning moon; greater when the moon was near the Earth, and smaller when the moon was far from the Earth; indeed, to such an extent that one can even describe the amount of precipitation—the amount of rain—during the waxing moon relative to the amount of rain during the waning moon as a ratio of 107:100. And Fechner proceeded with great caution. — I note that these were not observations spanning just two or three years; rather, certain series of observations extended over decades and covered not just one, but many European locations. — But Fechner said, in order to rule out chance in yet another way: Let us assume that this is mere coincidence, and that other factors affecting the weather are responsible for producing this ratio of 107:100. To be on the safe side, Fechner then also examined the weather conditions on all even-numbered days during the lunar cycle and on all odd-numbered days. For he reasoned: if the waxing and waning moon were not the cause, then—instead of observing the days of the waxing and waning moon—the same ratio would have to result from the even and odd days. But that is not the case. A completely different number emerged; by no means a constant ratio, but a variable one, which can be said to be subject to chance. It was also clear to Fechner, however, that he had not arrived at an earth-shattering result; for he had to admit to himself: the moon does not have a great, powerful influence on the weather; yet the facts suggest that the moon does, after all, have an influence on the weather. And as you have already seen, Fechner proceeded in a thoroughly scientific manner by taking into account only the results obtained at the individual observation sites by rigorous researchers. He then attempted a similar approach with regard to fever and other physiological phenomena, and there, too, he obtained—not a negative result, though perhaps not a significant one—but a result about which one can say: it cannot be denied at all that such phenomena, as, let us say, popular belief assumes, proceed differently during the waxing moon and differently during the waning moon.

[ 9 ] Thus we see how the old view of the Moon fought its final battle in the mind of a brilliant man, Fechner, around the middle of the 19th century.

[ 10 ] This is a prime example of how completely incorrect it is when the claim is increasingly being made today that: science has forced us—or is forcing us—to stop talking about any assumptions regarding the spiritual foundations of things, because today—to mention just a few recent scientific developments—science, as they say, stands at the threshold of that art through which it will succeed in combining simple substances in some way to form living matter. Admittedly—as people will always say—we still have a long way to go before, for example, we can produce “protein” in its simplest form from its constituent elements: carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, and so on; but given the overall trend in science today, we are, so to speak, on the verge of having to admit that this will one day be possible. And once that becomes possible—so say those who make such claims—then no one at all may hold any view other than the one that, in a monistic manner, fuses individual material elements into what is then recognized as a spiritual entity. — When one speaks in this way, one is presumably referring to the newer goals and achievements of science and means to say: one could no longer speak of having any justification for recognizing something spiritual beyond what the senses perceive and what external science is able to say, for—so they will say—we have fortunately moved far beyond the times when one could assert any vague wisdom about life beyond what can be perceived by the senses.

[ 11 ] One might well ask: Is it really science that compels us, so to speak, to reject spiritual research? For example, if there is a scientific finding—and here I would like to stand firmly on the side of those who believe that, in the not-too-distant future, it may be possible to produce living protein from simple substances—is there anything compelling that would lead us to say that life is composed of matter, and that we must not seek the spirit?

[ 12 ] A simple historical analysis can actually show just how little there is to compel such a belief. There was a time when people not only believed that living protein could be produced from carbon, hydrogen, and so on, but when they even believed—regardless of the merit of this belief, and you can read the poetic depiction of it in the second part of *Faust*—that an entire human being could be created from these components in a retort. Yes, there were times—however foolish one may consider them—when people held the belief that one could assemble a human being—the “homunculus”—from individual components; that they did not merely believe they could produce clumps of protein. Nevertheless, no one at that time doubted that behind the sensory realm lies the spirit. From this, one can historically prove that no “science” compels us to reject the spirit; rather, where the spirit is rejected, this depends on something entirely different, namely, on a person’s ability to sense the spirit—or not to sense it! Science, as it is today or as it will always be, can never compel us to reject the spirit. One can stand firmly on a scientific standpoint: whether one acknowledges or rejects the spirit does not depend on science, but on whether one is capable of sensing the spirit or not, of recognizing it or not. Therefore, although from the standpoint of spiritual science we need not agree with either Schleiden or Fechner, we can understand that Schleiden, looking at the sensory world, rejected everything that is sought as spirit or soul behind phenomena. But he did not reject it for scientific reasons; rather, because his way of viewing things found no sympathy for what one should seek as spirit behind phenomena; he had become too accustomed to the merely visible. Fechner, however, was a completely different individual. He looked toward the spiritual; and even though he made mistake after mistake, he was nonetheless a person of a different nature—a person who oriented himself toward the spiritual. This also explains his inclination not to reject everything that the more intimate influences of the celestial bodies on one another signify. Fechner simply told himself: “When I look up at this moon, it is not merely the slag-like formation that it appears to be through the telescope; rather, it is animated, just as all other phenomena are animated. Therefore, we may also assume that there are effects from the soul of the moon to the soul of the earth, which manifest themselves in the depths of ordinary life or in weather phenomena.”

[ 13 ] Now it is curious—and this has often been pointed out here—that a certain school of spiritual research is focused on practical matters and consistently emphasizes that the best evidence for what spiritual research has to say can be gained through practical experience in daily life. Curiously enough, this is also the way Fechner defended his view, by seeking application and evidence for it in everyday life. He said something like this: Perhaps our wives would be better suited to decide what Schleiden and I are disputing regarding the moon. So I propose the following: Water is needed for washing, and one can collect water depending on the weather conditions. Now, since Schleiden and I live under the same roof and are permitted to collect water at certain times, I propose that my wife collect the water during the waxing moon, while Schleiden’s wife—who, to avoid completely discrediting her husband’s theory, will go along with this—since she doesn’t care about any of it—and set out her jugs during the waning moon. It will turn out, of course, that my wife will have one more jug than Professor Schleiden’s wife for every fourteen jugs or so, but to overcome a preconceived notion, she can surely make such a sacrifice.

[ 14 ] We have thus, so to speak, characterized—from the perspective of human thought—how people in the past century, that is, even quite recently, thought about the Moon and its influence on Earth. Today, one can safely say that people, who have now advanced a bit further in what they call the scientific worldview, have made progress with regard to Schleiden’s theory in such a way that today they would regard anyone who in any way clings to the belief that the Moon might have anything to do with weather conditions and the like as a completely dreamy, superstitious person. Today, even among very intelligent people, you will find no other view than that the moon has an influence only on the tides; but everything else is regarded as an outdated point of view.

[ 15 ] But if one stands on the ground of spiritual science, one need not subscribe to everything that was once popular belief; for otherwise one would find oneself in the same predicament as those who confuse superstition with spiritual science. In many cases today, we encounter a fair amount of superstition masquerading as spiritual science—superstition that is actually misunderstood folk belief. One can easily point to that superstition about the moon that can be seen on every street corner today; for it is well known that a moon is displayed at all our barbershops. Why? Because it was once a common belief that the sharpness of the razor had something to do with the waxing moon. Yes, there were times when no one would have dared to shear a sheep during the waning moon; for they would have believed that the wool would not grow back. Only when they wanted something to stop growing would they have carried out the shearing during the waning moon. It is, of course, easy to move beyond such superstitions. Gentlemen who have their beards shaved will know that the beard grows back even during the waning moon. It is therefore just as easy to mock this belief as it is, on the other hand, not so easy to see clearly in all directions. For now we are entering a peculiar realm where we are only just setting foot on the ground of spiritual science: the realm of ebb and flow.

[ 16 ] This is now considered an indisputable fact regarding the Moon’s effects. It is said: It is quite clear that the tide is related to the Moon’s gravitational pull. The Moon’s passage through the meridian is seen as the cause of the rising tide, and the Moon’s departure from the meridian is seen as the cause of the tide receding to low tide. Now, one need only point out that high and low tides occur twice in many places where they are observed, whereas the Moon passes through the meridian only once. But one can also point to other facts. Numerous travel accounts will show you that in various places around the world, high tide by no means always coincides with the Moon’s meridian position; in fact, in some places it arrives two to two and a half hours later. Of course, in such cases there are always scientific excuses; people then say: “Well, the high tide was simply delayed!” — There are certain wells that also exhibit ebb and flow, where this phenomenon cannot be denied at all; it even happens that when the sea is at high tide, the well is at low tide, and when the sea is at low tide, the well is at high tide. People then say: “That’s a delayed ebb or a delayed flood”; it has simply been delayed so much that it enters the opposite phase. Of course, if one wants to explain things this way, one can explain just about anything.

[ 17 ] But the question has also been rightly asked: Where does the Moon get the force to exert such a gravitational pull on the ocean? For since the Moon is much smaller than the Earth, it has only about one-seventieth of the Earth’s gravitational pull; and to set such masses in motion as the ocean masses requires millions of horsepower. Julius Robert Mayer has presented some very interesting calculations on where the Moon derives this power. And this question is followed by numerous others. Therefore, one can say: What is considered scientifically indisputable today is precisely what—even though no one objects to it anywhere—is the most disputable of all. But one thing remains very significant. Even if one can conclusively demonstrate that the Moon’s position, its influence, and the course of the tides are such that it is difficult to speak of a direct effect of one on the other—when all phenomena are taken into account—one fact still remains: the course of the tides is such that a specific high tide is delayed by about fifty minutes each day—relative to the moon’s highest point. Thus, the phenomenon of the tides, in its regular succession, already corresponds to the moon’s orbit. That is the most significant aspect of it all. — Thus we are faced with the remarkable fact that we must say: When the Moon is at its meridian, we cannot speak of its influence on the tides; but we can say that the course of the Moon’s orbit and the course of the tides coincide, exhibiting a certain correspondence.

[ 18 ] Now, to give you a brief introduction to the spirit of the humanities, I would like to draw your attention to a similar phenomenon within the phenomena of our Earth that caused Goethe a great deal of concern. People know as little as possible about what moved this great mind of modern times. Anyone who, like me, has spent years upon years studying Goethe’s scientific works and has seen Goethe’s own manuscripts in the “Goethe and Schiller Archive” in Weimar will have noticed a number of things. For example, Goethe’s works include “preparatory studies” for what he later presented in just a few pages as his “Theory of Weather.” Goethe conducted these preparatory studies with immense diligence and tremendous zeal. Time and again, Goethe enlisted his friends to carry out studies, which he then compiled into tables. And the purpose of these extensive studies was to demonstrate that, in various locations around the world, changes in barometric pressure are not subject to chance but occur in a completely regular manner—so that the rise and fall of the mercury column in the barometer in the most diverse locations on Earth follow a completely regular pattern. And in his studies, Goethe also provided ample evidence that, in various locations, the rise and fall of the barometer do not depend on chance, but are subject to a regularity that extends across the entire globe. Goethe thus sought to demonstrate that it is incorrect to assume that atmospheric pressure depends on any external influences. He knew, of course, that people attribute the compression and rarefaction of the air—and thus a change in atmospheric pressure—to the Moon, the Sun, and other cosmic influences. But he wanted to demonstrate that, regardless of the constellation of the stars, and regardless of how the sun, moon, and so on affect the atmosphere, there is nevertheless a constant regularity in the rise and fall of air pressure across the entire globe. In this way, he sought to prove that the causes for the rise and fall of the barometer lie within the Earth itself. For he wanted to show that the Earth is not that lifeless body for which it is usually regarded, and that the Earth is likewise permeated by invisible members from which all life emanates, just as human beings, in addition to their physical bodies, have invisible members of their being that permeate them. And just as inhalation and exhalation occur in human beings—as they take in air and release it again—so too does the Earth, as a living being, undergo inhalation and exhalation. And the Earth’s inhalation and exhalation—that is, manifestations of an inner life—are expressed externally in the rising and falling of the mercury in the barometer. Just as one would explain the regular inhalation and exhalation in a human being in terms of inner life processes, so Goethe attempted to attribute the rise and fall of the barometer to the Earth’s inhalation and exhalation. Modern science, after all, knows nothing about the causes of the rising and falling barometer readings; therefore there is no need to say anything from the perspective of spiritual science about its relationship to external science; rather, it should simply be pointed out that in Goethe we have before us a person who was convinced that the Earth is an animated being and exhibits within itself phenomena that can be compared to the respiratory phenomena of the human being. But on one occasion, Goethe also confided to Eckermann that he viewed the phenomenon of ebb and flow in a similar way—as an expression of the inner vitality, of the life process of the Earth itself.

[ 19 ] With this view, however, Goethe is by no means alone among the great minds who have turned their spiritual gaze toward such things. People with a materialistic outlook will, of course, find all this ridiculous. But among those who have a sense of life—even where it does not impose itself within the narrowest circle, but rather in the broader context of life—there have always been people who held views similar to Goethe’s, such as Leonardo da Vinci. In his excellent book, in which he compiled his comprehensive scientific views—which were at the cutting edge for humanity at that time—we find the remark that he truly—not just figuratively! —regarded the solid rock structure of our Earth as a sort of skeletal framework, and that to him the streams, rivers, and watercourses of the Earth were truly something that could be compared to the human circulatory system. And there you will also find it pointed out that the tides are connected to an inner, law-governed life of our Earth. — Kepler, too, once expressed this by encapsulating his view in an image, saying: “In a certain sense, the Earth can be regarded as a giant whale, and the tides are like the inhalations and exhalations of this giant whale.” And many more examples could be cited.

[ 20 ] But what if we were to compare the aforementioned facts with a perspective such as the one Goethe once presented to us regarding the tides? Let us consider what constitutes a result of spiritual science, and let us try to relate what was said earlier about the course of the lunar phases and about the tides to what Goethe, for example, said: to the inner life of the Earth and its inhalation and exhalation. — We must base our understanding on the findings of spiritual science. Such findings can only be obtained by conducting research using the methods of spiritual science. And here we enter precisely that highly dangerous territory where, with regard to today’s questions, anyone who believes they stand on the ground of modern science will speak of the “fantasy” of spiritual science. Let them do so. But he would do better to regard what is presented here as inspiration; he will be able to find the evidence for this in a more intimate contemplation of life.

[ 21 ] To properly convey what the researcher in the spiritual sciences means, let us consider human beings themselves in relation to their environment. From a spiritual scientific perspective, human beings do not originate merely from the sensory world, but from the spiritual foundations of the world that lie behind the external sensory realm of facts; thus, human beings are born out of the sensory world merely as sensory beings. But insofar as the physical human body is permeated by spirit and soul, the human being, as spirit and soul, is born out of the spirit and soul of the cosmos. And only when we point to the spirit and soul of the cosmos from the perspective of the human spirit and soul can we gain a glimpse of what we are called upon to call the connection between human beings and the cosmos.

[ 22 ] In our previous lectures, we have spoken about various aspects of the inner life of the human soul. The human soul did not appear to us merely as that nebulous construct that it is for contemporary psychology. We first distinguished that aspect of the human soul that we called the “sensitive soul.” Within the feeling soul, the human “I” still stirs dimly, scarcely aware of itself, and experiences there the interplay of pleasure and pain and all that comes to it in the form of external experiences from the outside world through the mediation of the feeling body. The “I” is already present within the life of the feeling soul; but it is not yet aware of itself. Then the “I” develops further, and with this the soul advances to the second member, the “intellectual soul” or “emotional soul.” And as the “I” continues to work on and build up the soul, the intellectual soul becomes the “consciousness soul.” Thus, we distinguish three different parts of the human soul: the soul of sensation, the soul of understanding or the soul of feeling, and the soul of consciousness. The “I” works on these three parts of the soul and elevates the human being to ever greater and greater perfection. But these three parts of the soul—just as they live here in the world, within the human being, and carry out their work through the human being—must live within the human being’s outer physical body. It is through the human being’s outer physicality that these three soul components can act on our Earth—and they act in such a way that the soul of feeling initially has the body of feeling as its vehicle and instrument; the soul of understanding has as its vehicle that part of the human being which we referred to in previous lectures as the etheric body or life body; and only the consciousness soul has as its vehicle what we might call the human physical body. For, when considering human physicality, we first distinguished the physical body, which the human being shares with everything in the mineral world. At the same time, this physical body is the vehicle of the consciousness soul—that is to say, it is not the consciousness soul itself, but merely the instrument of the consciousness soul. Then we see in the human being a higher aspect of its physical nature, which it now shares only with all living beings, with the plant world. What brings about the functions of growth, reproduction, and nutrition in the plant also operates in the human being; but in the human being, this is combined with the intellectual or emotional soul. While the plant has an etheric body that is not permeated by a mental soul, the etheric body in human beings becomes both the vehicle and the instrument of the mental or emotional soul, just as the physical body is the vehicle of the consciousness soul. What brings about the crystal in the mineral realm is, in human beings, permeated by the consciousness soul. What exists in the animal as the astral body and mediates the animal instincts and passions is, in the human being, further deepened inwardly, and this is the vehicle for what we call the feeling soul. Thus, the human soul—the feeling soul, the intellectual or emotional soul, and the consciousness soul—lives within the threefold body: the feeling body, the etheric body, and the physical body.

[ 23 ] This is how it is for a human being when he is awake. It is different when a human being is asleep. There, leaving the physical body and the etheric body behind in bed, the person emerges from the physical body and the etheric body with the astral body, the “I,” and all the soul members—including those soul members that permeate the physical body and the etheric body as the intellectual soul and the conscious soul. During sleep, the human being lives in a spiritual world that he simply cannot perceive, because here on Earth he is dependent on the instruments of the physical body and the etheric body to perceive his surroundings. As soon as he has laid aside these instruments in sleep, he cannot perceive this spiritual world; for in today’s normal life he has no tools for doing so. — Now we find ourselves in a special situation when we consider the human being both in the waking state and in the sleeping state: When the human being is awake—though this is no longer entirely the case for people today, especially in cities—this waking state coincides with the direct influence of the sun on the Earth. We need only go out into simple rural life, where people have, to a certain extent, preserved this relationship between the external natural world and their own lives; there we will find that people are awake when the sun is shining, and that they essentially sleep when the sun has set. Human beings’ regular alternation between waking and sleeping thus corresponds to the regular effect of sunlight on the Earth and everything connected with it. And it is by no means to be taken as a mere metaphor, but as a profound truth, when it is said: In the morning, the sun calls the astral body and the “I” of the human being—with its sensory soul, intellectual soul, and conscious soul—back into the physical body; and while awake, the human being perceives everything that is in and belongs to their earthly environment through the sun, through the sun’s influence. It is thus the sun that, once a person has united all the members of their being upon waking, calls them back to their ordinary outlook on life. And if one does not view life superficially, one will easily see how the sun mediates this relationship to the human being.

[ 24 ] There are three things that can show us how human beings relate to the Earth and the Sun. With regard to his soul—specifically, the feeling soul, the intellectual soul, and the conscious soul—the human being is an inwardly independent being; but not with regard to the vehicles of these souls—that is, the physical body, the etheric body, and the feeling body. These sheaths, these vehicles and instruments of the three soul members, are, after all, built up from the outer universe. Just as they are meant to serve the waking human being, they are structured through the relationship between the Sun and the Earth. Specifically, in the following way:

[ 25 ] The human soul of sensation lives in the body of sensation. This body of sensation, which is the outer instrument of the soul of sensation, depends in its nature on the place on Earth that is—if we may call it that—the human being’s home. After all, a human being is at home in a certain part of the Earth; and it does make a difference whether a person is born in Europe, America, or Australia. It has no direct bearing on their physical body or life body; but it does have a direct bearing on their sensory body. Even though human beings are becoming increasingly free inwardly with regard to these external influences that affect their sensory body, we must nevertheless say: Precisely in those people who are down-to-earth, in whom the sense of home is particularly well-developed, who have not yet overcome the power of their physical nature through their soul—in them, the sense of home, the dependence on the place where one was born, is expressed in such a way that when these people are moved to other regions, they are not only bad-tempered and grumpy, but the unfamiliarity of their surroundings can actually make them ill; and often the mere prospect of returning to their homeland is enough for them to recover, because the cause of the illness lies not in the physical body or the etheric body, but in the emotional body, which—in its moods, passions, desires, and so on—derives directly from the sensory environment of the place where the person is rooted. Through his higher development, as the human being becomes freer and freer, he will overcome precisely these influences that bind him to the earth; but a comprehensive consideration will show us that the human being’s position on Earth varies depending on the location’s position relative to the Sun; at every point on Earth, the Sun’s rays strike at a different angle. Anyone who considers things more comprehensively will already see how much of what is characteristic of human beings in the direction described depends on the place on Earth where they live. Thus, one can observe that certain instincts and instinctive actions—which later became cultural elements—also depended on where the people in question lived on Earth.

[ 26 ] Let us consider two aspects of cultural development: the use of iron—and the practice of obtaining food by milking certain animals. We find that these two practices—working with iron and milking certain animals to obtain food—developed only in the regions belonging to Europe, Asia, and Africa. In the other regions of the world, neither of these practices existed in the past. It was European immigrants who introduced these two cultural elements there. One can trace this quite precisely: While the milking of animals is an ancient practice throughout Siberia, it comes to an abrupt end near the Bering Sea, and none of it is found among the indigenous peoples of the Americas. And the same is true of iron.

[ 27 ] Here we see how certain instincts—instincts that reside in the sensory body—are bound to the Earth, on which human beings depend, and thus depend primarily on the Earth’s position relative to the Sun.

[ 28 ] We can describe a second form of dependence in that the human etheric body, as the vehicle of the intellectual soul, is in fact dependent in its activity on the changing of the seasons; that it is determined by the relationship between the Earth and the Sun, as expressed in the changing of the seasons. Of course, this can only be proven directly through spiritual science; but there is a way to confirm once again, through the external facts of Earth’s evolution, that this spiritual-scientific assertion is correct. Consider, for a moment, that on Earth, an inner activity of the soul—whether as the intellectual soul or the emotional soul—can develop only where there is truly a balanced alternation of the seasons; that is to say, only in regions where there is truly a regular alternation between the individual seasons can a vehicle and an instrument for the intellectual and emotional soul develop within the human life body or etheric body. Go up to the far north. There you will find how difficult it becomes for the soul, when it absorbs cultural influences from other regions, to contend with the etheric body, which is subject to conditions we describe as an excessively long winter and a short summer. There, the intellectual soul is unable to create for itself, out of the etheric body, an instrument that is easy for it to handle. And if you go to the tropical zone, you will find that the irregular alternation of the seasons, in turn, gives rise to apathy. Just as the forces in the life of plants alternate throughout the year out in nature, so too do those forces in the human etheric body alternate with the changing of the seasons; these forces then express themselves in the moods of springtime joy, longing for summer, autumnal melancholy, and winter desolation. It is this regular alternation that is necessary if a proper instrument for the intellectual soul is to be created within the human etheric body. — Here we see how the sun, in its relationship to the Earth, works upon the human being.

[ 29 ] And now let us turn to the human physical body. In order for the soul of consciousness to function properly within the physical body, a person must subject themselves to a rhythm in their daily life that mirrors the natural cycle of day and night. Anyone who never slept would soon realize that they could not form coherent thoughts about their surroundings. The regular alternation of sleep and wakefulness, which corresponds within the human being to the alternation of day and night in the external world, is what builds up our physical body so that it can serve as an instrument for the consciousness soul. Thus, the sun builds up the human being’s outer sheaths in the corresponding way. We have seen this in three ways.

[ 30 ] But when a person is in a state of sleep—it is no wonder that conventional science knows little about this; for conventional science deals only with what can be seen; only spiritual research deals with what emerges in the evening and exists in the spiritual world—though, of course, it is invisible to the external sensory world—when we speak of what is to develop outside the human etheric body and physical body, what external influences are at work there? What factors come into play?

[ 31 ] Here, spiritual science shows us in various ways that, while the influences just described—which are primarily solar influences—are the dominant ones for the waking human being, strange things occur in the sleeping human being: Sleep, after all, also has an effect on our daytime experiences; it restores the forces we have expended through those experiences. During sleep, we draw replenishment from another world for what has been expended during the day. Is there, then, a way to demonstrate an external influence in a similar manner to what we have just described for waking conditions? That, too, exists. And what one finds there, strangely enough, corresponds to the length of the lunar phases. I am by no means claiming that it coincides with the lunar phases, or that the lunar phases have the corresponding effect; I am merely saying that this course of nocturnal effects follows a certain pattern that can be compared to the cycle of the lunar phases. And you can get an idea of this if you consider the following. I want to illustrate the matter with two examples. You will only be able to find external evidence for what I am now saying—and which is the result of spiritual research—if you search intimately for this evidence in what sometimes presents itself to you in the life stories of this or that person.

[ 32 ] You’ve probably heard many times that people who depend on having productive thoughts and letting their imagination run wild aren’t always able to do so in the same way. Or perhaps you haven’t yet heard that poets who are true to themselves sometimes say, “I’m not in the mood right now”—and then fall silent? That much is known. But because it belongs to the intimate aspects of life, one cannot track its course. People who have observed this in themselves would see that those periods of productive thought—for which a person needs the right mood, imagination, and a certain warm feeling—strangely alternate with others in which they are better able to put these moods and these figments of the imagination down on paper or live them out in their thoughts. This alternation certainly exists. People who know how to observe this are aware that there is a fourteen-day productive period of the soul. When that is over, a state of exhaustion sets in for anyone engaged in creative thought, and their thoughts become less productive. Artists or writers might pay attention to this for once; they will see how it holds true, and how they cannot squeeze anything out of themselves once this productive period is over. The soul is then like a squeezed lemon. But it can then set about processing what it has gained through the power of the will. Poets or artists will, of course, not always pay attention to this; but they will know: when they enter such a mood, they can sing and speak—or paint—but at other times it simply won’t work, because they are then in a period of unproductivity. Daily circumstances have no influence on this at all; rather, it depends on the time when the human soul, together with the “I,” is outside the physical and etheric bodies. During a fourteen-day period, the productive forces are, as it were, poured into the human being who is independent of the physical and etheric bodies; whereas, on the other hand, no productive forces are poured in during the other fourteen days. Such is the rhythm. This, however, is a phenomenon that exists for all human beings with regard to the various inner soul forces; it is simply expressed more clearly in the case of the people just mentioned.

[ 33 ] However, you can find much clearer evidence of this in what is called true, genuine spiritual scientific research. This is not the kind of research that can be undertaken at any time or hour; rather, it also depends on a rhythmic course. In saying this, I am expressing something that has hardly ever been spoken of anywhere; but it is true. In spiritual research, however, one is certainly not in a state of sleep. The World Spirit certainly does not reveal itself to its own in a state of sleep! One is merely in a state where the human physical body is inactive in relation to what otherwise comes from the sensory world. But the human being is not asleep there, even though he is, so to speak, outside his physical body and etheric body. For through meditation, concentration, and so on, the human being has acquired the ability to ensure that his consciousness does not die out when he steps out of the physical body and etheric body—not that sleep must necessarily set in, but rather that the human being can then perceive in the spiritual world. For the spiritual researcher standing at today’s modern level, there are now, in turn, two strictly distinct phases: one—again lasting fourteen days—is a phase in which he can make his observations, during which he feels particularly strong, and in which the results from the spiritual world pour in from all sides; then the other period begins, in which, through the forces he has absorbed during the period just described, he is now particularly capable of penetrating these insights from the spiritual world—these inspirations and imaginations—with his thoughts, of working them through with his thoughts, so that they can take on a rigorous scientific form. Thought processes and inspiration now, in turn, follow a rhythmic course. The spiritual researcher is no longer dependent on recording external facts; he simply observes how these periods alternate for him, much like the changing phases of the full moon and the new moon. But it should also be noted that only their rhythmic progression can be compared to the full moon and the new moon; it is not the case that the period of inspiration coincides with the full moon and the period of processing with the new moon, but rather only the rhythmic progression can be compared to the full moon, the new moon, and the quarters in between. Where does this come from?

[ 34 ] When we look at our Earth, we see that it has emerged through a process of evolution from an earlier state. Just as every human being, in the course of their life, emerges soul- and spirit-wise from a previous incarnation, so, according to spiritual science, our Earth has emerged from a previous planetary incarnation. But within our Earth itself, remnants have been preserved of those events that took place under earlier conditions on our Earth’s earlier planetary incarnation. And we must seek these remnants in what today takes place as the Moon’s orbit around the Earth. From a spiritual scientific perspective, the Moon is considered part of the Earth. From a spiritual scientific perspective, what is it that holds the Moon to the Earth and causes it to orbit? It is the Earth itself. And as spiritual scientists, we are thus in perfect harmony with conventional science. For conventional science also holds that the Moon was once separated from the Earth, and that it acquired its orbital force precisely because it was once physically part of the Earth. Therefore, the Moon’s orbit simply represents an earlier state of the Earth. Thus, when we look up at the Moon, we have before us the memory of an earlier state of the Earth. It is the Earth itself that has preserved these earlier states in its satellite, because it needs it, because it wants to allow an earlier state to shine into its present conditions. Can we find conditions on Earth whose necessity becomes clear to us through this?

[ 35 ] Let us take the human being himself as an example and consider him as a soul living within his body and subject to the course of the sun. He appears to us in such a way that we say: For today’s normal consciousness, what is turned toward the sun is all that remains between birth and death. — Try to consider whether what ordinary consciousness experiences today during the waking state—in its threefold dependence on one’s home, the changing seasons, and the changing times of day—whether that is not exhausted in the life between birth and death? Human beings would have nothing else in their consciousness; nothing else would shine into their consciousness if there were only this effect of the sun on the earth and only this relationship between the sun and the earth. What now carries over in the human being from incarnation to incarnation—what appears again and again in a new life—must be sought in that which permeates the outer body soul- and spirit-wise, in that which is also present around the “I” as the astral body during sleep, and in the “I” itself. What emerges from the physical body and the etheric body during sleep as the astral body and the “I” also emerges from the physical body at death, and reappears in a new form within the human being at a new incarnation. This has an inherent rhythm that points us to a course similar to that of the Moon. When we consider human development, we say to ourselves: What the human being experiences on Earth today—what the “I” is currently working out as the soul of feeling, the soul of understanding, and the soul of consciousness—has only recently been developed on Earth; it develops only under the conditions that exist in the Earth’s relationship to the Sun. The Earth, however, stands in a relationship to the Moon that it once had, one it has retained from earlier stages of its own development. And so the Earth, in its relationship to what it carries with it as the Moon, points us back to earlier states. Human beings, however, through their present condition—through the soul of feeling, the soul of understanding, and the soul of consciousness—point us back to those times in which the vehicles for these soul members—the physical body, the etheric body, and the astral body—were prepared. And just as the forces of the Sun must still work today so that these three vehicles of the soul can be developed in the appropriate way, so too did the forces of the Moon once have to work upon the human being so that these vehicles could be prepared. Just as the lunar forces today manifest themselves in a rhythmically ordered manner in their course, and just as the inner human being is rhythmically ordered, so too were the lunar forces once in harmony with the human being itself and prepared what the human being is today—just as the Earth, in its lunar state, prepared what it is today as the Earth. — Thus we can say that the lower nature of the human being, upon which the soul of feeling, the soul of understanding, and the soul of consciousness are built, points us back to ancient earthly states that the Earth has preserved in what still appears to us today as the lunar cycle. And we see how, therefore, the inner being of the human being, as it passes from one incarnation to the next, must have a rhythm that corresponds to the lunar rhythm. Thus, in earlier stages of the Earth’s development, it was not the transitory physical body but rather that which works upon this physicality from within that was linked to the Moon, just as the outer physical body is linked to the Sun today. The Earth has retained something of its earlier state in the Moon. And the human being has also retained something of earlier states within his inner being, in his eternal self. And it is precisely within this inner being that he develops the higher aspects—which were formerly external influences—once again in an inwardly independent manner.

[ 36 ] We must emphasize that human beings transcend external influences. We see how human beings are becoming increasingly independent, as they are already capable today of sleeping during the day and staying awake at night. But they must still organize their alternation between sleep and wakefulness according to the rhythm of the sun; they must still observe that rhythm. In earlier states, the inner day and the inner night corresponded exactly to the solar day and the solar night. Back then, human beings were even more bound to the earth. It is precisely by freeing themselves internally from the rhythm in which they are embedded—by retaining it as a rhythm but no longer being dependent on the external world—that human beings become independent and free. — It is as if you were to take a clock that completes a cycle in twenty-four hours, but set it so that it does not correspond to external time, so that it does not read “twelve” when it is “twelve” outside. Although the clock is organized according to the external rhythm, its indication of the hour does not coincide with external solar time.

[ 37 ] In this way, human beings free themselves inwardly by making the external rhythm an internal one. Thus, human beings have long since freed themselves inwardly with regard to the lunar rhythm, which related to their inner being. That is why we have emphasized that, although human beings experience the phases of the moon internally, these are not stimulated by the moon in the sky; rather, the moon in the sky merely follows a corresponding rhythm because human beings have retained the inner rhythm while making themselves externally independent of it and free from it.

[ 38 ] In this way, which we have been able to establish for human beings, the Earth itself must now be understood as a fully living being. But since it reveals to us only its physical body outwardly—and does not reveal itself as living, feeling, and knowing—it stands, so to speak, even closer to the Moon. Now we can understand why, based on the external facts alone, we cannot even speak of a direct influence of the Moon on the tides, but can only say: The tides, in their timing, correspond to the Moon’s orbit; but we cannot speak of a direct external influence of the Moon, because the Moon does not actually cause the tides; rather, the tides and the Moon’s orbit are brought about by deeper spiritual forces within the living Earth. The Moon’s orbit and the tides correspond to one another; but they are no more in a direct relationship of dependence than the Moon as we see it today is in a direct relationship of dependence to what I have described to you as the rhythm in the productive and clairvoyant human being.

[ 39 ] Thus we see how, precisely on the basis of the premises of the spiritual sciences, external facts are wonderfully elucidated for us: the tides correspond to an internal process within our Earth that causes not only the tides but also the Moon’s orbit. They correspond to one another just as the ticking of a clock corresponds to the passage of external solar time, although no one could claim that the sun turns the clock’s hands. These are correspondences that stem from a common cause but do not cause one another. And if you take these premises of spiritual science and go through all the books where you will find recorded all the phenomena of the Moon and the Earth—and the tides—then you will discover the true relationships between the Moon and the Earth, and also between the Moon and humankind.

[ 40 ] It is easy to imagine: when a person loses their autonomy, is pushed down from a fully conscious state into less conscious states, when they sink into unconsciousness, they regress to earlier stages of development. Humanity has progressed from a state of unconsciousness to its present level of consciousness. From its earlier dependence on the Moon and the Moon’s direct influence, humanity has progressed to its present independence from the Moon—and to dependence on the Sun. Therefore, we must say: Because human beings were once directly dependent on the Moon, what occurs when their state of consciousness is subdued will be governed by the lunar cycle. This reveals, in an atavistic way—like an ancient inheritance—a connection to the phases of the Moon. In people with mediumistic predispositions, whose actual sense of self is so suppressed that they manifest—like an ancient inheritance—what was once present in their evolution, the earlier influence of the Moon is still evident. The same is true when certain medical conditions suppress a person’s consciousness.

[ 41 ] You will now be able to fully understand these phenomena from the perspective of spiritual science once you are familiar with these principles. Everywhere in life, you will find evidence of what spiritual science has to say. And finally, one more thing.

[ 42 ] When a human being is born out of the dark natural foundation—after having passed through the spiritual world between death and a new birth and reappearing in a new physical form—he must, before stepping into the light of day, be born out of conditions that recall earlier states of the Earth. And this corresponding field of science still calculates the human embryonic state as lasting ten lunar months. Here we have a rhythm that unfolds over ten consecutive lunar periods. Here we see how, in the time before the human being steps into the light of the sun, he develops under conditions that we can only explain by referring to the rhythm of the moon. Thus we see how the Earth, through the Moon and its rhythm, has preserved for us what it itself experienced before its existence on Earth. And today, as we observe human development during the embryonic period, we see how during this time—ten lunar months—each week—that is, each lunar phase—corresponds to a very specific stage in the embryo’s development. Once again, humanity has preserved within itself what we might call the lunar rhythm.

[ 43 ] And there is yet another whole range of phenomena connected with human existence before a person emerges from the dark depths into the light of day—phenomena that are by no means effects of the moon, nor do they coincide with the phases of the moon, but which do reflect the same rhythm, because they can be traced back to causes that once allowed the Earth to exist under conditions that prevailed in the past.

[ 44 ] With this, I have shed light on an area that cannot be further illuminated in public. Those who are willing to reflect will see that a new perspective opens up here into those realms of life where spiritual science can indeed point the way—a way that sheds far, far greater light on that aspect of the human being which eludes the light of the sun, which lies beyond the light of the sun — which must therefore be explored by a light other than that which has been cultivated from the outer sunlight as the light of knowledge: namely, by that faculty of knowledge that does not depend on the service that the sensory body, the life body, and the physical body are capable of performing under the influence of the sun. The clairvoyant faculty, in turn, becomes independent of these three bodies; it can delve into the inner realm, look into the spiritual world, and open up a capacity for knowledge of that which lies beyond the outer sunlight—which is no less luminous and illuminating for that. —In this way, you have seen how spiritual science can provide inspiration in a wide variety of ways. But I must point out that, when it comes to the question of the Moon, one must have a deeper understanding of spiritual science if one wishes to penetrate to the heart of these matters.

[ 45 ] Finally, a poem by the German poet and lyricist Wilhelm Müller comes to mind; a poem of which only the last stanza is of interest to us here. The moon is addressed, and all sorts of intimate exchanges take place between a person and the moon, and then—because the soul has spoken some very strange things to the moon—it is said:

This little song is an evening rhyme,
A wanderer sang it in the full moonlight;
And those who read it by candlelight,
People don’t understand this little song,
And yet it’s as easy as pie!

[ 46 ] We must approach what spiritual science has to say in much the same way as we have indicated regarding the moon and its significance in human life. We must say: The song of spiritual science about the moon can truly be sung only with some understanding of the more intimate concepts of spiritual science. Those people who wish to read it by candlelight—I mean, in this case, through the telescope—based on what the moon reveals through lunar photography and all that is today called lunar research, these people will find it difficult to understand this song of spiritual science about the moon. And yet, those who are willing to delve even a little into what emerges from all aspects of life will have to admit: When you get right down to it, it’s not that hard to understand! For those who wish to understand the spiritual science’s song of the moon not merely by the “candlelight” of the telescope, but by the living light of the spirit—which shines even when no external sensory impressions are present—this song of the moon, and thus of an important aspect of life, is quite easy—if they are willing—even if it is not child’s play!